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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months

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Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Your due date approaches but that’s not the only thing that’s been a long time coming Warnings: 18+ only, fluff WC: 2.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine

Round 4 - Japanese GP

“I think I’m in love,” you moaned happily.

“I should hope so,” Lando commented dryly, making Charles laugh.

“She’s not talking about us, mon cher.”

You patted the vending machine full of the greatest snacks you had ever tasted. “Ignore them, it’s just you and me, now take my money.”

“Are we going to karaoke?” Pierre asked, checking his phone to see the time. “Yuki and Daniel are already there.”

“Shh, let the pregnant woman eat,” his girlfriend reprimanded. “She’s growing a whole human in there.”

“Thank you, Kika.” You sent her a grateful smile before throwing your middle finger in Pierre’s direction. The machine whirred and you turned back to see mechanical arms moving your choice down to the little door. “I just need a few more.”

“She’s stalling because she knows she sucks at singing when she’s sober,” Max joked before pulling out his wallet and going to the next machine. “What else do you want?”

Everyone caught onto Max’s idea and lined up along the alley of vending machines and within minutes there were enough snacks to last you the night, plus one huge Pokémon stuffed animal that Pierre chose for the baby. You could barely wrap your arms around the teddy and you narrowed your eyes at your old teammate. “Out of all of the Pokémon you chose…Squirtle?”

His grin widened until his laughter broke through. “What’s wrong with Squirtle? Everyone loves a big squirtle.”

“You’re so immature,” you tried to say with a straight face but it failed as you giggled. “This is going in my bed when I get home. It’s going to be my snuggler when I’m abandoned.”

“We aren’t abandoning you, mon amour. Everyone agreed it’s too close to your due date to come to China.”

You didn’t like it, but it was the truth. You were lucky to even get away with coming to Japan since you were already 37 weeks pregnant. At least there was a two week gap between the races so you would have some time with Lando and Charles before they left for the next race.

“And your mother will be there, so you definitely aren’t abandoned,” Lando pointed out. He took the teddy from you so you could better see where you were walking and tucked it under one arm so he could still hold your hand. “Max has already given us his plane so we can get back if we need to.”

“I have?” Max cocked a brow.

“You may have been drunk when you said it, but there were witnesses.”

Max scratched his head in confusion but he couldn’t recall the memory. Shrugging, he wasn’t really bothered, he would have offered for them use it anyway. “Who’s your reserve if you have to go?”

“Ollie and Pato,” Charles answered. “My baby is in good hands if we miss the race. Lando is a little more worried.”

“Not of Pato, I’ve seen him in testing,” Lando countered. “I just don’t like sharing.” Everyone looked pointedly between you and your boyfriends. “Har-har, I meant my seat, assholes.”

You eventually made it to the karaoke bar and Yuki growled at everyone for being late, except you. You got a tight hug and a strong whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“I didn’t know what you felt like, so I got a bit of everything,” he said as he pointed to the side table full of snacks and non alcoholic drinks. Pierre reached out for a pack of biscuits but Yuki slapped his hand away. “Not for you motherfuckers. Get your own.”

The annual karaoke had grown over the years and you weren’t sure if it was better when you were sober or not. On one hand you nearly wet yourself laughing at how terrible everyone sounded but on the other your ears were almost bleeding by the time they were too drunk to continue. Crashing out onto the hotel bed never felt so good when you finally got back after midnight. Thankfully it was only going to be media day for the guys so they could sleep off their hangovers.

You combed your fingers through Lando’s hair as he spawned out next to you, soft snores falling from his open mouth. A smile played at your lips and Charles chuckled beside you. “Go on,” he said as he nudged you gently. “Say it.”

You couldn’t resist and he knew it. “It’s all too much for Little Lando Norris.”

“Not little,” Lando grumbled.

“You were asleep a second ago.”

“Wasn’t asleep, just resting my eyes.”

“Such a dad thing to say,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek as his breathing evened out and he was asleep once more. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

“You should try to rest too,” Charles murmured as he settled into his pillow and opened his arms for you, his bleary eyes struggling to stay open.

“I will.” You would try to at least, but finding a comfortable position grew harder each day. “I love you.”

“Je t’aime aussi. De beaux rêves.”

He was asleep before you could even reply and you soon followed.

The need to go to the toilet once again woke you and you found Charles' space in the bed empty. After relieving yourself, you followed the light in the living room to see the curtains swaying softly in the breeze.

Charles stood on the balcony overlooking the city, his fingers idly running his matching trinity necklace along its chain. It was only as you got closer you saw his eyes weren’t on the city below but the dark skies above and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He turned and leaned back against the rail, his hands coming to rest on the impossibly large swell of your stomach. You placed your hands over Charles’ and guided them to where the action was happening against your ribs, a nice reprieve from being kicked in the bladder. You couldn’t get much bigger before you popped and the stretch marks already showed the strain the pregnancy was having on your body.

“I wish Jules was here to see this.”

You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the driver but from what Charles had said it would have been hard not to love the charismatic person he described. “I’m sure he would be proud of you. I am. Have you thought any more about her name?”

Charles chewed his lip before sighing. “No, I want something new. I don’t want her to be pressured by the weight of the name she carries.”

You could completely understand how a name changed everything and nodded. “Okay, I’ll cross Julia off the list.”

“And Landa.”

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “That was never on my list. I don’t know why you didn’t shut that idea down right away.”

Charles chuckled and kissed your nose. “Because it’s funny, mon amour. He actually thought it had a real chance.”

“Our hopeless dreamer,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest as you yawned.

There wasn’t much time left to narrow down the list of first names but a compromise had been found with the last name. To make it fair, they decided if it was clear Lando was the biological father then Charles' last name would go first and vice-versa. If it wasn’t clear then you were going to have to referee their debate, something you were hoping to avoid.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Charles murmured as he kissed your hand and laced it with his. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It was no secret you always woke up when one or both of them went missing from your bed. Even asleep you seemed to know when their body warmth disappeared.

“It’s okay. I’ll have to get used to it.”

“When we abandon you?” he teased, but there was an edge of sadness in his tone.

“Maybe that was a little harsh but I was hungry. I’m sorry.” You climbed onto the bed and snuggled in between their warm bodies. “I know you aren’t abandoning me, Cha.”

“Good, now I need to have an important conversation.” He shuffled down so he could kiss your stomach and whispered, “Ma petite, you need to stay inside there until daddy and papa get home. I know it’s a little tight in there and we are very excited to meet you too but you have to hang on just a few more weeks, ma fille. Deal?”

“I'm not sure you are going to get an ans-” A kick interrupted you and Charles smirked.

“My girl already listens to her papa.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned as he rejoined you on the pillows. “I hear teenage girls are terrible at listening to their parents. Not me of course, I was an angel.”

It was Charles’ turn to laugh as he curled his arm around your waist and closed his eyes. “An angel…I don’t think that was the word your mother used.”

Your yawn cracked your jaw before you said, “It’s a good thing I have matured since then.”

“Like fine wine, mon ange.” His nose brushed your cheek before he planted a sleepy kiss on your temple. “Bonne nuit.”

Exhaustion turned your tongue heavy as your body relaxed against his. “Goodnight, baby.”

Round 5 - Chinese GP

You wanted to smash your phone when the alarm went off in the middle of the night. The time on the screen said 7.30am but it was a lie. You had only been asleep for a few minutes from what the aches in your body indicated, not hours.

“The drivers parade is starting,” your mother called out from the lounge.

With a groan you pushed away the giant Squirtle you used as a body pillow and rolled to the edge of the bed before swinging your legs off. Just the small movement left you breathless as your lung capacity dropped and you hated the think what your VO2 levels would be like at this point.

“Can you hit record please?” you yelled back before going to the bathroom. There was no way you were going to miss a moment of the days activities, even if it meant watching the pre-race grid walk after the race finished.

You made it to the couch in time to see Charles and Lando climb onto the trailer together and couldn’t help noticing the dark bags under their eyes. They matched yours. It was the first time being away from each other for so long that you were all finding it difficult to adjust and sleep. Video calls couldn’t replace touching them.

They would keep their phones with them until the very last moment when they climbed in the car so you grabbed yours and sent a quick message after reading the sweet good morning messages that came through while you were sleeping.

To Group Chat: Drive fast and keep it clean. I love you.

It took almost half a minute with the delay of live tv for them to pull their phones out before turning and waving to the camera with big smiles, Charles even blew a kiss.

The boys had promised an interesting race during their media interviews on Thursday. Everyone knew it was the first race without you there and they were going to make up for it by pushing their hardest for a win. As it turned out, Checo tried to go three wide into turn one with Max and George, causing a red flag and the retirement of all three cars.

You could practically see the fumes coming off your brother and you didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what he was saying when the camera panned to him in the garage. Maybe Checo would be the next to learn just how fast Red Bull can take away the seat they gave. He wouldn’t be the first and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Eat your breakfast, it’s gone cold.”

The dish your mother made would still sit on the coffee table for another 37 laps but you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. Charles was leading with Lewis in second place but you knew the Mercedes’ tyre degradation meant Lando would soon be able to overtake, and you weren’t even there to scream for them.

“I will soon,” you lied as you edged closer to the tv and saw the two cars enter the straight. “Get him baby…”

Lando’s rear wing opened, adding to the slipstream he was already getting from Lewis, and he pulled out to shoot past, diving onto his breaks in the corner and taking second place.

“Yes!!!” you screamed as you jumped to your feet.

“Don’t jump around too much, you might break your waters,” your mother warned as she pulled you back down into the couch cushions.

“But did you see that? That was perfect!”

Your mother smiled at your enthusiasm. “He did very well, but you need to calm down.”

Your nail beds were ruined by the time it came to pitting and they both went in on the same lap but Ferrari made a mistake and took a few key seconds to recover. It was just long enough for Lando to be released and get in front of Charles.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, nervously bouncing your knee as Lando defended against Charles. “I can’t watch. Mum, my heart can’t handle this…” She held your hand and you gripped it tight for the remaining laps.

“Go! Go! Go!” you screamed at the tv, leaping to your feet again as Lando finally crossed the finish line less than two seconds ahead of Charles. “YESSSS!!!”

You couldn’t keep still as you rubbed your belly and laughed exuberantly. “Daddy just won his first race! Holy shit, he did it!” You were giddier than the first time you won but he had waited so long for it after being robbed of the win in Sochi. “I can’t believe I’m not fucking there!”

“Language,” your mother reminded with a laugh. You turned to see she was recording your reaction and sent the video to the group chat with Lando and Charles.

“Oh please, she’s not even born, and that’s the least of her worries.”

Lando’s shouts over the team radio made you smile harder and he was still laughing and possibly crying by the time he pulled into the pit lane. “Yeah, baby, about fucking time! Woohoo!! Who’s your daddy?”

“Well done, mate, you deserve this.”

“Thanks, Jarv, are you crying?”

“I just got something in my eye.”

“Yeah me too.”

His car parked in the centre position but he couldn’t get out as sat in disbelief, his helmet dipped with his head. Charles was the first out and half hung into Lando’s cockpit as he embraced the winner. You couldn’t hear their exchange but you could imagine Charles telling him how proud he was before helping him climb out of his seat.

Lando jumped from the halo and into Charles’ arms before Carlos rushed in too after taking third place. You couldn’t help thinking it should have been you with them.

“What a way to take your first win,” Jenson said with a grin as he started the post race interview. “I guess there will be plenty to celebrate tonight. Any plans?”

“Mhmm,” Lando hummed as Charles joined him after his weigh-in. “Big plans. Important plans. We are heading straight to the airport and going home to celebrate with our wife.”

“Wife?” you asked aloud.

“Wife?” Jenson echoed.

“Uh, figure of speech, you know?” Lando chuckled, his neck turning pink at his mistake but he was so high on elation it had slipped out. “We have a baby on the way and our lives are built together. It doesn’t get more committed than that kind of thing.”

“So there haven’t been any secret nuptials we don’t know about?”

“No, not that we wouldn’t if we could but there’s kind of laws or something against it, or so my lawyers say.”

“Trust me, they’ve checked,” Charles added, but it was the first you had heard of it.

You were still thinking about that when they disappeared to the cool down room and when you watched them stand proudly on the podium, the British national anthem playing loudly. You were still thinking about it when they left the stage and the Sky presentation came to an end.

Click here for the next part.

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

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cosmicmunsonwrites · 9 months

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Can you do rafe x reader and she find out she’s pregnant and gets kicked out so she has to tell rafe

you hurt me pretty good too

pairing(s): fwb!rafe cameron x fwb!fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy, toxic parents, reader is kicked out, talks of abortion, pet names

summary: after finding out you’re pregnant, you parents kick you to the curb, forcing you to tell the father.

authors note: thank you so much for the request! i’ve been so slow with updating because of my writers block but i’m going to finish up all of these requests as soon as i can.

part zero | part one | part two

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

“dad, please,” you cried. “i tried. i was careful! i don’t know what more you want from me. we used protection and i was on birth control.”

he didn’t seem to accept that answer. “then maybe you shouldn’t be having sex at all. if you’re not responsible enough to prevent getting pregnant, how can i trust that you’ll take care of a kid?”

“i promise i will. i have a steady job, i pay for all of my own stuff, i do everything on my own. i promise this won’t be a problem for you,” you tried to reason.

“if you won’t get an abortion, you can’t stay here,” he said firmly. “and thats that.”

your lip trembled as you turned to your mother. “mom?”

“i’m sorry, honey. your fathers right.”

you choked out a sob before rushing into your room and packing up all of your valuable belongings into a duffle bag you found in your closet. you grabbed all of your stashed money and anything else you needed. you didn’t even bother packing too many clothes, you’d later buy new ones.

without any exchanged words, you walked out to your car and threw the bag into the back, pressing the start button and driving off.

you furiously wiped the tears from your eyes as you sped down the bridge over to figure 8. you hated this. you hated what you were about to do. but it was your only option now.

and when you arrived, you were still in tears and even more nervous than confessing to your parents.

your walked up to the front door and knocked. “coming,” you heard his voice yell. then it swung open.

the first thing he noticed was your teary eyes. “hey, what’s wrong?” he was never this soft with you. but you were more than grateful right now. “come in. we can go up to my room.”

you stepped around him, trying your best not to cry even harder when his hand splayed across your lower back as he led you up to the room as if you hadn’t navigated your way there on your own a million times.

he gestured to the bed, silently telling you to take a seat as he kneeled in front of you, a hand on each of your thighs. “what’s wrong, sweetheart? something happen.”

you broke down now. “you’re gonna hate me.”

“i don’t think i could ever hate you,” he mumbled softly, eyes searching yours for some sort of answer.

you took a deep breath to gather yourself. “my—my parents kicked me out.”

his brows furrowed in towards each other. “what? why?”

you couldn’t look at him anymore. your eyes averted to the ground. “i’m pregnant.”

you heard the breath he sucked in, letting it out seconds later as his thumb moved across your skin comfortingly.

when he didn’t say anything, you cried even harder and stood up. “i’m sorry, rafe.”

he stood up with you and grabbed your hands. “no, no it’s okay, sweetheart. it’s okay,” he said before wrapping his arms around you. “it’s gonna be fine. we’re gonna figure it out together, yeah? i can talk to my dad about you staying with me for a little until we sort it out.”

his hand gently ran through your hair as he kissed your temple. “no matter what, angel, i promise to take care of the both of you.”

#gracie writes rafe cameron 🌺#gracies asks and requests 💌#rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks

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ticktokrobotsnot · 10 months

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Hurricane Relief

This is part 2.

You can read part 1 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: The aftermath of a disaster and how we learn to cope, move on, and grow.

Word Count: 4k

Notes: 1) This is based off of s1e8, but we are going to pretend that Syd did the tablet thing correctly and Carmen doesn't lose his shit in ep7.

2) I am a completionist at heart so I felt an obligation to finish this because I know that if I was reading something and I didn't get a confession at the end I would riot and I aim to please.

“Where did you get the money for bail?”

“Used our two week parachute.”

Y/n, barely conscious felt something pushed up against her chest. She peeked her eyes open and saw that she was sitting in the backseat of Carmen’s car already buckled in. She shifted over to her left so she could rest her elbow on the armrest against the door and balance her head. Carmen glanced through the rear view mirror to confirm that she was still asleep, he locked the car door so she wouldn’t fall out.

Richie looked back before uttering a small, “Thank you, cousin.” It was strangely vulnerable to thank someone and even more vulnerable to do it with an audience, even if they were asleep.

“All good.”

After a few more beats of silence, y/n assumed that their bro moment had reached its conclusion and that she could finally pretend that she had just woken up. Then she heard a sniffle, at first she thought that her mind was playing tricks on her but she heard it again, and then a few more times. Maybe now was not the best time to announce her presence.

“You okay?” Although she couldn’t see Carmen’s face she was hearing concern and a bit of apprehension. She could tell he wasn’t comfortable with consoling Richie.

A small but broken, “Yeah…I’m okay” escaped Richie’s mouth.

Unable to resist, she stole a quick glance at the rearview mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of Carmen's eyes. They appeared slightly glassy, yet the softness in the corners revealed a simmering sense of relief. Though he was clearly upset, she reassured herself that he would ultimately be alright. Once they returned to the restaurant, she planned to check in on him, but without pressuring him. Recognizing his need for rest, space, and comfort, she understood that he often neglected these needs for the sake of others but she was determined to ensure he received the care he truly deserved.

Carmen took one last look back before pulling out of the parking spot and driving them back to the restaurant. Y/n was wide awake now but she knew that both Carmen and Richie needed some time and space to process what had happened. None of that would work if she was visibly awake, she had a feeling that they would pretend to be all tough by pushing their problems aside because they didn’t want a girl to see them being “sensitive”. So she planned to keep her head down and wait till they were near the restaurant to “wake up.”

The ride back was slow and smooth, Carmen didn’t drive over a single pothole, he stopped softly, and didn’t honk once, which was rare in Chicago. He wanted to drive her home and put her to bed but he had a feeling that she would be pissed if he dropped her off home while they went back to the restaurant.

They were 45 minutes away from the restaurant but he was wondering if he should wake her up when they got there, or if he should let her sleep in his car. If he left her in the car she would be able to sleep in but it wasn’t safe, what if someone broke a window? At the same time, if he brought her to the restaurant, there was nowhere for her to rest. He was driving on auto-pilot while he was trying to figure out the best way to approach the dilemma, because if there was one thing that Carmen was good at it was overthinking.

On top of worrying about y/n, Carmen had to steal a few quick glances at Richie to make sure that he was ok, it was hard to tell because he was looking out the window but the reflection showed Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, he was thinking about something, or someone. Thinking was better than being depressed.

A small selfish part of Carmen wondered if anyone would ever dissect every small aspect of him to make sure that he was also ok, like he did for others.

The car ride was peaceful and quiet until a neighboring vehicle suddenly honked near y/n’s window, causing her to jolt and accidentally slam her forehead against the glass.

“Jesus, fuck.” Y/n hissed while putting her cold hand on her forehead to calm the bruise that would inevitably form. Her cover was blown.

Carmen’s head whipped back, “Are you ok?”

“I'm good, it's just a small bump.” She tried to rub the forehead to quell the pain but it was too tender. “Pay attention to the road, I don’t want to see another police officer for the rest of my life.” Carmen involuntarily flicked his eyes to y/n’s forehead through the rear view mirror.

Y/n couldn’t tell what Richie’s status was and he hadn’t made a single peep the entire car ride, even when she was “asleep”, so she couldn’t gauge whether or not she should talk to him.

“We’re glad to have you back, Richie '' She left it open and didn’t expect any response in return. He didn’t respond but he moved his eyes from the passenger window to the windshield and sat up straight. Y/n felt a bit of uneasiness, this was the longest Richie was quiet and she kind of wanted him to make fun of Carmen or at least laugh, something to show that he wasn’t hurting.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, they eventually pulled up to the restaurant and they walked in. Y/n and Carmen had left the restaurant as it was and even though they knew it was a mess, it was a different beast in daylight. Both y/n and Carmen walked to their lockers to grab their emergency toothbrush and other hygiene products in an effort to look less dead.

Once they freshen up they went their separate ways. Y/n walked behind the counter and pushed some styrofoam cups aside to start the coffee machine. She waited for the coffee to finish brewing before pouring a cup for the three of them. Richie took one of the cups off the counter and disappeared.

She walked over to Carmen who was throwing away half eaten food from the tables.

“Here.” she handed a cup over to him and once again their fingers brushed each other but this time she forced herself to ignore the electricity. Whatever she was feeling would be an additional burden to Carmen, one more thing for him to worry about. Carmen didn’t need this right now, he needed some calm and space.

She heard a soft thanks, and even though she was supposed to give him space she couldn’t suppress the urge to check on him one more time. His eyes were no longer glassy but the dark circles told her everything she needed to know. He glanced up at her face, finally getting his first good look at her since they left the station. He walked over to the kitchen door and signaled y/n to join him right before he disappeared. She heard some shuffling and she walked over to the kitchen after taking one more look at Richie who looked like he was doing better.

Y/n went to the kitchen and was pleasantly surprised that it was not as bad as the front, it wasn’t great but still miles better. The kitchen was empty but Carmen’s office door was wide open, she peered inside to see him holding a ziplock filled with a bit of ice and water.

He shut the door and pulled out a chair indicating that she was supposed to sit. She sat and looked up at Carmen before feeling the ice on her forehead. She groaned in discomfort, “You didn’t have to.” Carmen moved the bag around so the cold didn’t hurt. Y/n felt like she wasn’t doing enough, she was supposed to take care of him and here he was taking care of her. That wouldn’t do.

“How are you feeling?” Y/n asked while avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t look at them without getting distracted and she needed to focus on Carmen.

“I'm good.” Soft but left no room for elaboration. Y/n knew she couldn’t crack a few jokes to make him feel better, that was wholly inappropriate. She also couldn’t probe for answers either because that would just stress him out, any form of pressure would probably make him feel like a caged animal being cornered. Saying nothing felt like they were ignoring the very obvious elephant in the room. It was like all roads lead to nothing unless Carmen opened up a bit more, which didn’t seem like was going to happen so y/n settled for a distraction.

“Is it bad?” Y/n said while touching the bag of ice barley missing his fingers. She ignored Carmen’s body heat that was radiating onto her side and she also pretended not to notice the way that his lips parted in concentration.

“I'm going to need you to be honest with me, don’t worry I can take it. If I look like shit you’ve gotta tell me so I can get some impromptu bangs or something.”

“You don’t look like shit.” Carmen mumbled.

“I bet I don’t look good,” Y/n swiveled around towards Carmen’s desk for some scissors, “bangs it is.”she exclaimed. Y/n was only joking but she needed a bit of a breather before she broke her own rule about giving Carmen some space.

Carmen grabbed the chair’s armrest and swung it swiftly so she was facing him again. Her heart leaped out. “You look like how you always do.” He was too much of a wimp to call her breathtaking, the word felt foreign in his head; he could only imagine how disturbing it would be to hear it from his lips. He gently grabbed her chin before putting the ice on her forehead again. Y/n couldn’t escape this time.

The silence was killing her and she thought she should at least talk about her own experience to let him know that they could talk to each other about stuff like this.

“I was really scared...” Carmen looked into her eyes and they softened a bit.

“I was scared that Richie was going to be in jail for basically forever…and …and,” Y/n hesitated, was what she was about to say to Carmen considered cornering him?

“I was scared for you.” Carmen’s hand stalled midair, still holding the bag of ice. He didn’t move for a few moments, “I was worried that this would..” She couldn’t think of what to say next. She could feel the gears in her head working overtime to churn out something that would summarize what she was feeling. “..break you and you wouldn’t let me help you.” She felt her eyes start to burn and a lump form in her throat that was choking her. She wouldn’t cry, he couldn’t deal with his own problems while consoling her.

“I would have been okay.”

Y/n waited till the lump in her throat stopped burning. “You always are Carmen, but sometimes it’s nice to be better than okay…” She couldn’t do anything about her voice cracking but she might as well finish before she became a mess, “You deserve it.”

Y/n said her piece and they both simmered in the quiet. A sigh reverberated through the walls and Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes. His lips parted and closed a few times as he tried to formulate a response but nothing he could think off would sound as well-put together as y/n’s thoughts. He felt like he was seven again, a stuttering pathetic idiot who couldn’t say something as simple as a thanks.

Y/n knew that they were done for now, she had exhausted him so she was finally ready to give him that space that he desperately needed. She slowly got up and slipped the bag of ice out of his hand and walked towards the door. Carmen didn’t look at her as she left but as soon as the door closed, he sank to the floor and sat there for a very long time.

He finally leaves the office to help with the clean up and is greeted by the crew. Y/n was at the very end scrubbing her countertop which was covered in glitter. As he walks past the crew to survey the damage to the front, he gets a pair of gemstone covered stringy underwear swung towards his face.

“This is not respect.” Ebra continues to wave the underwear at Carmen’s face.

“No, chef. That is not respect.”

Carmen walked to the front and felt another weight lifted off his shoulder to see that the majority of the mess had been cleaned up. It felt like he was finally able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. His chest felt a bit lighter and he knew it was thanks to the people around him.

He walked to the kitchen and started slicing some onions, he would be in charge of family dinner. As he was making the sauce, he couldn’t help but notice that he had yet to hear or see y/n, not that she wasn’t in the restaurant but it was like she was doing her very best not to be noticed. She was quietly peeling garlic and even though Carmen hadn’t responded to her, he could tell that they would be alright. He just knew in his bones that they would come back together, he was going to make sure of it.

As he opened the tomato can and dumped it in, he noticed a bit of green. Mold? Killing the heat, he swiped the sauce away and picked it up to remove the plastic to reveal a wad of money.

Y/n heard Carmen yell for Richie but she didn’t think much of it before she started hearing, “Shit…Fuck..”

A few minutes later the whole crew were opening cans of tomato sauce to dig out the money that was hidden within. Once all the money was out, Richie cleaned it up and sorted it, the crew cleaned up the sauce and Carmen finished up the pasta.

They sat down for dinner, but y/n had no appetite. However, she couldn't afford to leave her plate unfinished without drawing attention. She discreetly observed Carmen, piece by piece, just to make sure that he was okay, actually more than okay. His hands were relaxed, she took a bite. His shoulders were at ease, another bite. His jaw was unclenched, yet another bite. And finally, the most crucial part, she stole a fleeting glance into his eyes. As she raised her head slightly to check, to her surprise, their eyes met. Against her instincts, y/n held his gaze. It left her breathless. For the first time, y/n saw a serenity in Carmen's eyes that she had never witnessed before.

With this newfound contentment, it became evident that Carmen had discovered a new version of stability. If maintaining their current relationship, or lack thereof, could grant him such ease and relaxation, y/n was willing to patiently wait for him to embrace a future together, even if it meant waiting for years or even decades. She didn’t want him to relish in the calm but expect it, expect that life was also fun and full of love. Her wish was for him to experience a life of unwavering stability, so that even if unexpected challenges arose as he always anticipated, he would know he was not alone and that he would always prevail.

Y/n was proud of him, which is a strange thing to say considering the fact that he was a tax paying adult, but she couldn’t help but give him a small smile that said I see you and I’m so fucking in love with you.

Carmen wasn’t a poet by any means but he finally understood why people write poems about other people. A picture of y/n would have captured her beauty but a poem would have explained it. It was just a smile and he didn’t know why but it was burned into his memory. Y/n looked away to ask Sydney something but if Carmen closed his eyes she was still smiling at him. Y/n had given him many smiles but he knew at this very moment that he couldn’t last another day without her being his. It wasn’t just a smile, it was the weight behind it, the pressure that it put on his chest when she looked away from him, the gleaming aura that wouldn’t let him look away…

It was everything, it was his everything, you were his everything.

Dinner concluded, everything was cleaned up, and Carmen was no longer in his fantasy land where y/n was being lit by the sunlight or party lights and making him yearn, he had never yearned before. Carmen assumed that seeing her in the shitty kitchen lighting and in her messy apron would bring him back to reality but he was sorely mistaken. The pinnacle of his admiration wasn't confined to the previous night or that particular meal; it persisted, unyielding. It didn’t die down when she spilled a bit of oil on the counter, or when she flipped of Richie for god knows what, or when she sampled Sydney's experimental dish and tactfully suggested it needed something more, or when she stepped over to the side to redo her hair, or when she shook her foot because her legs were aching. He could never get tired of her. He could watch her stirring for days on end, each rotation captivating him anew. He could witness her redoing her hair for centuries, and boredom would remain a foreign concept. He could watch her smiling till the sun exploded billions of years in the future, and still, an insatiable craving for more would persist within him.

Time flew by and before she knew it the clock struck 10:30pm and y/n looked up from her stovetop and realized that she was the only person left in the kitchen. It was a bit strange to be alone in the kitchen without Carmen, it felt like a regular room. It lacked the mystic that Carmen brought into any room. She wandered into Carmen’s office but it was empty. The front was empty as well and y/n was getting a bit worried. She grabbed her cardigan from her locker, turned on her phone flashlight and just went to the back of the restaurant and sure enough she found Carmen lighting a cigarette. The phone light was the only source of light other than a very dim street light at the very end of the block, and the small fire lit on the end of the cigarette. She saw that he was surrounded by quite a few cigarettes, five plus the one he was smoking now.

Carmen looked like a deer caught in headlights. Y/n leaned on the wall so she could see what was compelling him to stay here for what must have been an hour but it was just a brick wall. Carmen shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her.

She waved her hand, “I’ve got a sweater and it's not that cold today.” She was getting deja vu.

“The bricks are rough.”

Y/n leaned forward to avoid scraping her favorite cardigan but he took this as an opportunity to stand in front of her and slip the jacket through her arms. He straightened the jacket near the neck line. His hand glided down the open panels. Although he didn't physically touch her, she could sense his warmth emanating through the narrow gap.

Y/n said she could wait but what she wouldn’t give for him to grab the collar and kiss her. His lips were wet from licking them and she didn’t notice that he was staring at her lips too.

Carmen snubbed his cigarette on the wall near y/n’s waist, and then dropped the cigarette but leaving his hand still there. “Y/n.”

A soft hum escaped her barely parted lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. It was as if she had entered a trance while staring at his lips, and even when he attempted to snap her out of it, she effortlessly slipped back into another spellbound state, captivated by the depths of his eyes.

“I have to kiss you.”

He searched her eyes for a sign of hesitation but y/n wrapped her arms behind his neck and leaned forward. Carmen closed the gap and at that moment he knew that he was never going to be able to get enough of her. He slipped a hand behind her head and another on her hip. He pushed her deeper against the wall and he was having a hard time thinking, his head was spinning and it was making it difficult to imprint this sensation into his memory. It felt like trying to remember an ocean’s wave or a ripple in the sand.

His lungs were burning and even though he knew that he couldn’t stay conscious for longer, he couldn’t pull himself away.

After a few moments, y/n withdrew slightly, locking eyes with him, her beautiful gaze penetrating his soul. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, he instinctively leaned in, their foreheads touching. The kiss left him breathless, yet he yearned to prolong the contact, craving more of her touch.

Their breath mixed with each other before y/n tightened her grip around him and leaned forward to kiss him one more time, this time with a deliberate slowness that amplified the intimacy between them. He made a conscious effort to imprint the sensations in his memory, but they tantalizingly lingered before elusively slipping away, beckoning him to kiss her once more for a more vivid recollection. It felt new even after the first, second, third, and fourth kiss, as if each one unveiled a new layer of their connection. Carmen could die here and people would be able to honestly say that he died a happy man. He smirked against her lips, unable to help himself.

They pulled away for one last time before Carmen slid his hands down her body and eventually they had lost contact.

Y/n grabbed his hand and led him back to the restaurant and in the bright lights, y/n looked down at their interlocked hands trying to finally remember the sensation that she had missed a few days prior but was pulled out of it when she noticed that his hands were covered in cuts and scrapes.

“What the hell happened to your hand?” Carmen's head felt like it was swimming.

He mumbled out a soft, “I think it was the bricks,” and then added, “I told you they were rough.”

“You should have moved them as soon as they started to hurt.” Y/n grabbed for the first aid kit so she could tend to his wounds.

Carmen didn’t care that his hand was scraped up because he didn’t want any part of y/n digging into the rough brick, and a scuffed hand was a small price to pay.

“Better me than you.”

“You’re literally so annoying, I can't even look at you right now. Take me home, Berzatto.” Y/n humorously rolled her eyes and finished wrapping him up.

And with that, Carmen finally found himself standing on solid ground, a place of stability and certainty. In the embrace of y/n's love, he discovered a resolute foundation upon which he could build a future with her. He no longer felt adrift, but rather firmly anchored in a love that provided solace.

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ataraxiaspainting · 5 months

Text

There is an Uproar.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: Satoru thinks you simply haven’t come around yet.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, threats of kidnapping, delusional Gojo, and manipulation.

Word Count: 3.2k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Six Forty Seven by Instupendo

Money, Money, Money by ABBA

Choke - Acoustic by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin

Breezeblocks by alt-J

Feeling Good by Micheal Bublé

Claus by Los Tres

Bleed Magic by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

This Could Be Us by Rae Sremmurd

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

“You're like a half-tamed creature, still shy of the bridle. 'Except you enthrall me, never shall be free.' But freedom is an illusion, anyway.” – Nenia Campbell, Fearscape

*~*~*~*

Satoru came to your door with gifts again; mochi, bubble tea, bouquets of roses, keychains, jewelry, books… everything you could ever ask for he either had in his hands or would quickly get for you by whatever means necessary.

It’s a shame really that you refuse to show your true feelings for him, especially after all he has done to make you happy. But he can be patient when he wants to be, and so with a not-yet-broken heart, at least fifteen gift bags wrapped around both his clenched hands, and a chuckle he rings your doorbell twice. He could hear some shuffling from inside and a shout of coming.

The voice was high-pitched and cheery from the sound of it. His eyes lit up then as he smiled widely. But as soon as the door opened, his smile slightly faltered as his gaze met eyes he had never seen before.

The woman in front of him was not you. What was she doing in your apartment?

His first thought was to assume she was an intruder, someone who broke into your home, stole your belongings and money, hid you in a closet or under cement, and is pretending to be you for the time being. Well, he can’t be fooled so easily if that was the case. But he then chose to let the woman speak before coming to conclusions. Though she was wearing your cute Hello Kitty hoodie and utterly adorable My Melody headband and had one of your pore strips on her nose. She obviously knew you in some way, and so he in turn needed to know her.

The woman waved at him and slowly looked down from his face to the many presents in his hands. Her head turned then, a huh accidentally coming from her lips.

“Hello miss,” Satoru tries his best to be polite and not have any bias towards her, but it is indeed hard to do so. It is hard to not have any bias and not entertain the idea of snapping her neck, because he does not know her and she is not you. He does not recognize her from any of your friend groups, and it took everything in him to not sneer and glare at her and demand to know where you were.

“Hey,” She seems to try her best to be polite too, trying to hide her confusion behind a small smile. “Can I help you?”

Satoru nods, trying to put on an eager and friendly front. He then gestures towards the gifts in his hands and chuckles. He fakes almost dropping one for dramatic effect. It seemed like it worked because the woman gasped and then sighed in relief as Satoru caught it in time before it could fall on the floor.

“I am looking for [First], I thought she would be here.” The stranger nods, her smile becoming more prominent. As a result, his own became more prominent too, though his was fake. “I’m her boyfriend. Wanted to surprise her, you know?”

He is technically not lying. He’s right if anything. Once you stop playing hard to get and fall into his arms, he’ll officially be known as such. He’s right, if only you stopped pretending to be so disinterested.

“Ah, I see!” The woman answers, her eyes inviting and curious. He sighs, faking a small sob and groan. She looked concerned then.

“If only she was here, I always love seeing her smile!” He closes his eyes, trying his best to look sadder than a kicked puppy. “I suppose she’s not here right now…”

With how the girl steps to the side, her hand gesturing towards the apartment hallway, Satoru knows that his plan worked.

*~*~*~*

“I’m Eve, her roommate, nice to meet you!”

“The same to you.”

“So how long have you two been together?”

“A long time, we’ve been together since our high school days!”

“She sure is lucky to have such a devoted boyfriend, huh?”

He laughs at the compliment, his back crouched a bit downward at an angle so he could be more comfortable walking about. Eve chuckles at his casualness.

“You sure got her a lot,” Her tone is sweet, another piece of proof to reassure Satoru that she trusts him fully. Until you eventually show up from wherever you have gone and start spewing lies, she will continue to be that way. You seem to not have good taste in roommates, it seems because Eve is far too naive for your safety. “Like a lot. Do you come here often? I just moved in so…”

Satoru doesn’t pay attention to her questions as he fantasizes about the day when you move into his place and you sleep next to him and wake him up with good morning kisses. A beautiful ring will adorn your finger one day, and you will enthusiastically anticipate his arrival from work while adorning the makeup he favors and styling your hair to his liking.

It was a small, cramped apartment, one definitely not worth how much money you rent it for. “I never get tired of how cute [First] makes this place. With both her presence and how she decorates everything. She has good taste.” He goes into the kitchen area, still having his arms hooked by the strings of the many gift bags, and looks around at the scented candles, dried flowers, and baked cookies on the table. “[First] made these, right?”

“Yeah,” Eve really is stupid, isn’t she? If he were a burglar she would be dead on the spot. How could she possibly protect you from any danger? He would obviously be a better housemate than her.

Satoru leans towards the kitchen table and snatches a cookie from the cooled baking sheet, biting into it and chewing loudly.

“Delicious, right?” Eve asks, giggling. She does not seem scared at all and seems to have no boundaries whatsoever.

He agrees, quickly devouring the entire confection and licking his fingers clean. “She’s always been a good baker. There’s a good recipe she knows for pie too. Maybe I’ll ask her to make it for me sometime…” He hums as he sets all the gifts down on the back coffee table. “She sure is a catch, wouldn’t you say? Her baking is one of the reasons I was so attracted to her in the first place.”

Your roommate nods. Satoru considers taking his leave now, but he has never been in your apartment during the day before.

He may as well stay a while. It will be fun, he tells himself.

So, he walks into the living room and starts reading the titles of books on the shelving next to your writing desk. A lot of horror and romance books from the looks of it. Classic little you.

He then looks over to your computer.

“So sweet, like a cupcake,” He touches the top of the laptop, his fingertips tracing the many rainbow stickers that cover it. You really are just the best, aren’t you?

Before he could open it though, he could hear keys jingling. You’re here.

“I’m back–” As if you were a sort of lightbulb running out of power, your cheerfulness declines smoothly and steadily, being quickly replaced by a cute sneer.

Satoru lets out a loud laugh. He adjusts his stance, placing a hand on his waist.

“Ah, [First], honey! Welcome back, I brought you some gifts!”

Instead of responding, you turn to Eve, your scowl turning into a simple frown. Advancing swiftly, you approach her, closing the distance with eyebrows ascending in sudden understanding. Eve, on the other hand, responds by tilting her head to the side, resembling a perplexed canine, in clear bewilderment of your abrupt outburst.

Gently, you grasp her hands within your own.

“Eve, I forgot to tell you something important.” You point at Satoru with a shaky finger. He simply chuckles in response, amused with how quick you are to hide your excitement. “Whatever you do, don’t let him in.”

Eve lets out a sound of surprise. “Huh, what, why?”

Your gaze meets Satoru’s and you look like you could hardly breathe.

“He is a stalker; he is always lying to people and saying that we are dating and are head over heels in love, but don’t believe him one bit.”

His eyes dart across the room as he loses eye contact with you and Eve. All the while, as his head darts from side to side, he pouts, puffs up his cheeks childishly, and leans back slightly against the wall, not too oblivious but subtle to his amusement. His face is a mask of innocence and confusion, trying to appear like he is not aware of what is going on–when he is very much aware of it and is silently enjoying it.

He loudly sighs and rolls his eyes, his hands sliding to his face as he brings them up to cover his sunglasses and mouth. He is trying to hide a smile, the act of which is just too much for his face to handle. He keeps shaking his head in dramatic disbelief and he turns to the side to lean against the wall harder as he puts his head down, shaking his head in exaggerated betrayal.

Satoru tries his best to not laugh again, it would ruin his marvelous performance.

He is the most captivating person in this room, you and Eve must be hung up on his every action and word, you two cannot look past his incredible acting.

Nobody is capable of acting to the degree that he is, his performances are legendary and his acting skills are unparalleled.

He is simply the best there is and ever will be. If there were a competition in this room to win an Oscar for best acting, he is certain that he would be taking that home. There is nothing on God’s green earth that can get in the way of him delivering these lines and excellent movements. He is so talented and so experienced, who could ever deny his skills?

“Gojo,” You say coldly. “Get out.”

He expects you to see the gifts, how heartbroken he is, and finally admit that you are just as much in love with him as he is with you. Instead, he could swear for a moment that he could hear crickets, before realizing that it is the wick of the candle on your kitchen table burning. As he surveys you and Eve he notices that he is getting no reaction.

“Babe.” When you don’t respond to the nickname, he snuffs a huff. “Stop pretending, okay?”

He thought that he was killing that acting.

He can’t believe that no one is buying his performance. He’s got the attitude, he’s got the swagger, he’s got it all, but neither of you are falling for it. This is just insulting. He knows he’s great, he knows he is delivering the performance of his life but for some reason, neither you nor Eve can see it! He is in absolute shock.

So, Satoru walks up to you and grabs your face.

He looks at Eve and she doesn’t look at him, she looks at you. That is fine, as long as he can still talk to her and you everything will be alright in the long run. Everything is going to be okay, he tells himself.

“Eve, can [First] and I have a few minutes alone?” Her eyes race to every corner of the room and slowly but surely make their way to the gold coins in his free hand. Multiple emotions spread across her face; confusion, greed… consideration. “It will only be for a sec, okay?”

With a measured pace, Eve approaches his outstretched palm, her eyes fixated on the glistening gold. Her gaze mirrors that of a ravenous crow or a parched man deprived of water for days, or sustenance for weeks. Quivering hands accept the money, and in silence, she retreats to her room, closing the door behind her.

“Come on, drop the funny games,” Instead of directing your gaze towards him, your eyes fixate on the entrance of Eve's bedroom. The door is adorned with a vibrant pink poster of a popular musician, adorned with splashes of colorful paint. Inwardly, he reassures himself that this situation is acceptable. After all, the two of you are now in a private and secluded space.

There is no longer anyone to hinder you from expressing your genuine emotions towards him. Surely you will finally admit them. Then you will eventually move to his place and stay there, happy and loving towards him at long last. All in due time, because Satoru can be patient when he wants to be.

“Get the fuck out. You sick–”

But now he does not want to be patient. He just wants to hear those words leave your pretty lips.

“Ah, ah, ah, watch your language, sweetie.” He interrupts you, placing a finger on your mouth.

The mere expression on his countenance carries ample weight to silence your profanity-laden tirade.

He only perceives the captivating, extraordinary, flawless woman whom he is obligated to assist. You possess an excessive amount of independence - too unbound, unwilling to embrace his assistance, his presents, his finances - there exists a rationale why partners watch out for one another. Are you not aware of that?

“That’s better.” He smiles and you start faking a shiver. “You really can listen when I finally put my foot down, huh? You can be stubborn with other people, you know, just not with me.”

He possesses strength - you lack it. You are so small compared to him.

He possesses a keen understanding of the streets, while you lack that astuteness. The dress you have chosen to wear is excessively revealing.

“Now, now, don’t cry. Shh, shh, shh. It was the only way I could see you, with how much you love to play hard to get.”

One can only imagine the number of individuals whom you captivated during the brief period you ventured outside today.

He possesses intelligence, while you lack it. You may believe otherwise, and you indeed excel in certain areas, such as your meticulousness in personal hygiene, which he acknowledges with humility, and your skill in baking, as well as your expertise in creating a cozy and plush bed. However, numerous matters elude your knowledge, such as selecting the right candidate in the upcoming election, performing a tire replacement, or operating a debit card. He is strong, while you are not. He is drawn to you for not being - captivated by your feminine allure; the way your body gently curves, your delicate touch, the fragrance that surrounds you, the melodic tone of your voice, and above all, your complete vulnerability when confronted with danger.

“Now, open your gifts. I did carry them all the way here after all.”

When you finally surrender, he will assume control over every decision you make.

From selecting your attire to choosing items at the grocery store, he will dictate how you interact with other men and even how you smile. He believes you are incapable of handling even the simplest tasks. Additionally, he takes pleasure in instructing you on matters you are expected to be ignorant about. It's quite endearing, isn't it?

He views you as his possession and will never, under any circumstances, let you slip away.

At his place, he has so many pretty outfits for you to choose from. A lot of aprons and cute dresses. All the while he downs a beer or seven with his friends and jokes about how nice you look cleaning. You'll listen to him rant about anything that comes into his mind, taking it all with a smile. It is not unusual for him to lay awake at night imagining what life would be like with you as his wife. First, he needs to show you your position as his wife and get rid of this misguided sense of independence you seem to be clinging to. What a dumb girl you are. It was meant to be, wasn't it? You are meant to be his girlfriend and eventually his wife, and you will by any means Satoru has to take.

He does not care what he has to do as long as the result is you finally giving in and loving your place in his arms. It is what you were made for. It is what he was made for.

So pretty. So stupid.

“Now, now. Stop crying, you’ll only ruin your makeup.”

*~*~*~*

On that particular evening, Satoru once again paid a visit to your apartment. However, instead of observing from a distance, he ventured further into the room and settled beside you as you lay in bed, rousing you from your slumber. The bed groaned as it shifted under his weight, and he swiftly covered your mouth to prevent any outcry.

Without hesitation, he gently hushed you, his other hand tracing the contours of your cheek and collarbone with his lengthy fingers. As he did so, he rhythmically caressed your neck, humming a tune that only he knew. In response, tears welled up in your eyes, but he promptly brushed them away. His initial hand soon abandoned its position on your mouth, ascending to tenderly stroke your hair.

"Don’t touch me," You rasped, observing how the moonlight cast an ethereal glow on his body and hair while obscuring his face in darkness.

He simply shushed you again and you could hear him breathing deeply through his nose and mouth.

He sat on his knees beside you. You could hear murmurs from him about how pretty you were, and you didn't know whether he was telling you or telling himself. Your hands clench the sheets in fistfuls. You let out a whimper. You close your eyes and grit your teeth, hoping this is just another bad dream.

He keeps murmuring fantasies. You don't open your eyes. You breathe through your mouth because you can smell his cologne with your nose. It is so strong, suffocating.

You eventually open them when the anxiety is too much, and you stare at him, wide-eyed, at the ceiling above his shoulders and head, at your cute vanity and glittering gold and silver jewelry and pastel clothes. Was that why he liked you so much because you were feminine and utterly defenseless in the face of a real threat? You think of an escape plan, of running to the bathroom grabbing your razor, and screaming at the top of your lungs.

“Such a beauty you are,” He whispered in your ear, his voice still so sticky. “So cute. A doll that only belongs to me. All that’s left is for you to finally accept because I know you want to, don’t you?”

You can’t stop him.

As the silence lingers, you find yourself yielding to the role of his girlfriend. Tear stains dot your pillow and mattress, remnants of your emotional turmoil. Satoru's praises now echo within you, as you surrender to his caresses. Your gaze shifts towards the window, where a few distant stars twinkle in the sky, veiled by a cloud that drapes the crescent moon like a bridal veil.

“So good. I just knew I wouldn’t have to take more… drastic measures.”

He snaps a picture on his phone for later.

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jakescakeislateforourdate · 2 months

Note

Hey girly!! Im too shy to ask this without the anonymous filter but first of all I’ve been reading through your blog and I love it honestly. I was wondering if you are open to requests if you’d be able to write up something about joe rantz (I am absolutely LIVING for blonde callum) and maybe a coaches daughter trope? he saw her when he went to sign himself up, at the practices all that jazz and just them like becoming friends then more than friends, the boat scene where he gets his seat taken away from him maybe? thank you so much and again I love your work! xx

Hello, my lovely anon. Glad to see you in my inbox. I apologize for the wait but I've been coming out of an awful slump and I was trying to make this piece not total garbage. I hope you enjoy it and I hope I see you in my inbox again.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Joe Rantz (Callum Turner’s) x reader

wc: 4,600

Joe finds himself utterly gobsmacked when he discovers that the pretty face he’s seen at the shell house is the coach’s daughter and not his wife.

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Joe Rantz had come to the shell house in search of work. He’d hoped that making the team would cover his tuition and get him a room and he needed it so desperately. Roger Morris stood next to him, chewing nervously at his nails. “Sorry, Joe, didn’t realize competition would be so tight.” He mutters, spitting out a shred of his fingernail. Coach Ulbrickson was going over the basics of practice. It sounded like absolute hell to Joe but he was out of options. He fidgeted with the number painted on his jersey. Sure, he was strong from a lifetime of rough labor but so were the other boys. Most of them were broke too and just as desperate. Joe didn’t know if he had what it took to stand out but he’d be damned if he couldn’t make a life for himself because he couldn’t muscle up some money for college.

As Ulbrickson speaks, a shadow appears in his office window. It’s too far for Joe’s nervous gaze to actually study the figure. He tries to focus on coach but the shadow continues to draw his attention. Roger notices too. “Who the hell is that?” Joe just shrugs. The shadow never leaves the window even as Ulbrickson finishes up and the boys get split up. Joe can’t dwell on the figure any longer because he’s being herded into the middle of shellhouse. He begins a horrible set of workouts. His body is made for hard work but he’s never actually worked out before. His muscles aren’t used to straining this way.

It’s not long before his breathing becomes labored and sweat is pouring down his back. His curls hang down his forehead, sticking to his skin uncomfortably. And just when the pain is becoming unbearable the coaches are swapping them out and Joe is put on a junky old boat and an oar is pushed into his hands. They start rowing and instantly, the only thing on Joe’s mind is how bad his back hurts. Pained grunts and groans echo across the water as the boys struggle to keep pulling the oars.

Eventually, it’s all over. Joe stumbles onto the dock in front of the shellhouse and feels his knees shaking with excursion. Men begin to drain away from the shellhouse and as the numbers dwindle, the shadow in the window of Ulbrickson’s office reappears. It moves through the glass panes like a swan through water. Then the office door opens and Joe sees your face for the first time.

“That was some tough practice, huh?” Roger bumps Joe’s shoulder, a crooked smile on his face. Joe cannot respond and Roger follows his gaze. “Washington, Washington, what finery you enjoy.”

You descend the steps and take a place between Ulbrickson and Bolles. Ulbrickson puts and arm around and Joe feels his heart wither a little. You’re probably Mrs. Ulbrickson. Though he can’t shake the impression that you look a little too young to be with Ulbrickson.

“Alas,” Roger throws up his hands, “Finery we cannot also enjoy.”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I’m not! How was that crass?” Roger purses his lips and nudges Joe.

Joe just buttons up his jacket and picks up his books, “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

The very next day, Joe is suffering through practice. He aches all over and his muscles scream at him. He’s already shaking when he gets done with the basic strength building exercises. Most of the boys are. There are fewer numbers today but this does not better Joe’s odds by much. They clamber into Old Nero and start rowing away. His wrists twinge and his knees spasm. He rows and rows until he thinks his body will give out and then Ulbrickson is directing them back to the shellhouse. Jow crawls out of the boat, soaked to the bone and stiff as a board.

Then he sees you again, this time your sorting registry papers with Pocock. Your back is turned to him, so you don’t notice his longing stare. He keeps telling himself that you’re a married lady and that he should be focused on making the team, but nothing seems to chase you from his mind.

Coach Ulbrickson sweeps across the dock and places a hand on top of your head, an odd gesture between husband and wife but Joe wouldn’t know about those things. Since his group was the last to use Old Nero, they get the privilege of stowing the oars. Joe begins unlatching the mechanism when he shifts on his knees.

It happens so fast he can’t clock what’s happening. First there’s the sensation of slipping, the horrible thrust of his legs flying out from beneath him. He twists mid slip, and his side smacks the dock painfully before he’s swept off the dock by his own weight. He plumets into the cold water with a catastrophic splash and agonized shriek.

When Joe resurfaces a dozen hands are reaching for him. He grasps onto George Hunt’s forearm and allows Shorty to hoist him onto the sodden wood planks. A fluffy white towel is draped around his shoulders; firm hands rub his chilled biceps. “Are you alright?” You face appears before him.

Joe is almost too stunned to speak, “I—yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

You tuck the ends of the towel into his hands, “Better get showered up and dressed.” Joe just nods and stumbles past you and into the locker room. Roger follows closely behind, teasing Joe relentlessly.

“You’re fallin’ harder than I thought.”

“Roger!” Joe grinds his teeth, huffing and puffing. “You need better jokes.”

Joe spends that night struggling to focus on his schoolwork. He has math homework that needs doing. He has books to read. The one in his hands now periodically goes in and out of focus as Joe’s mind wanders. On the page is the story of a western novel, a man had found a girl walking alone the road at dusk, all on her own. He didn’t want to leave her to the coyotes, so he offered her a ride into the nearest town. They were riding horseback across the prairie. Her arms wound tightly around him; her hands splayed over his chest.

Her hands—

What is wrong with you, Joe?

Joe reads this line over and over again. Each time he nears the end his brain short circuits and all he can think about are your hands on your shoulders. You hadn’t even really touched him, at least not his skin. Yet the only thing shooting through his neurons are the sensations of your fingers along his skin. That imaginary touch he can conjure up so perfectly. He eventually gives in and skips down a few paragraphs. He reads late into the night and the phantom touches are still nagging his senses when he closes the book and rolls over to sleep.

…

Day after day, Joe sees you at practice. You congratulate him when he makes the team and help him with his technique every once and a while. “Roll your wrists just a bit more.” Your fingers would poke at his forearms and direct him in graceful strokes. It fries his brain. You give pointers to the rest of the team too, working closely with Bolles and Pocock to get them in racing shape. It’s not long into the season when Ulbrickson decides to switch coxswains.

“This is Bobby Moch. Your new jockey.” Bolles announces one day. Bobby is short and slender and sharp tongued. The second he climbs in the boat and starts barking out commands, Joe is flabbergasted. Who is Bobby to talk to the team this way? But they all find themselves obeying his every word. What really irks Joe about Bobby is how friendly he is with you. You exchange jokes and poke fun at each other. Joe tells himself that he just thinks it’s inappropriate to flirt with the coach’s wife but beneath it all he’s incredibly jealous that Bobby can make you laugh so easily. It makes Joe pine for attention in a way that he never has before.

The day of their race against California, Joe is all jitters and nerves. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes his hands, trying to loosen the anxiety. Streamers and garlands of flags decorate the locker room and the campus. People have gathered in clusters along the course and wave flags of purple and gold. The smell of popcorn and peanuts permeates the air and Joe promises to indulge himself if they win.

As the crew carried their shell down to the water, they begin chanting to themselves. “Bow down to Washington!” They neglect the varsity’s jeers and clip their oars into position. They spot Coach Ulbrickson in the stands, you at his side. And then there’s another woman. And Ulbrickson hugs her. And then he kisses her.

Right in front of you! What is going on?

“Rantz! Eyes on me!” Bobby hollers. But Joe can’t help stealing another confused glance. “I said quite drooling over coach’s daughter and LOOK AT ME!”

Joe feels like an idiot. He puts his head down in shame and tightens his grip on the oar. Ulbrickson joins them on the dock and gives one of his famously encouraging speeches. Joe is only half paying attention. They push off and are left with lovely Bobby hyping them up while they wait for the race to start. They lean forward, like a bow drawn for a shot. And then the white flag flies and the boats shoot away from the docks.

There’s nothing but blur as Joe rows. He can only focus on the muscled shoulders of Don Hume in the stroke seat as Bobby screams at them. “28!”

About halfway through the course, Bobby demands the stroke rate be upped and Don performs. The shell lurches forward, eating up the distance between Washington and Cal until the JV boat surpasses the Berkeley blokes. Then the boat is cutting across the finish line, a clean win. Adrenaline rushes Joe’s veins. He throws his fists in the air as the team splashes and roars. They’re inevitably drowned out by the crowd who bursts up in a shower of peanuts and Washington flags.

Coach Ulbrickson, the new woman Joe assumes his Ulbrickson’s wife, and you rush the dock as the boys climb out of the boat. “Excellent job.” Mrs. Ulbrickson shakes their hands as they unclip their oars. Bolles is compassionate enough to give them each a pat on the back as they hoist the boat over their heads and haul it off.

Joe can’t help but notice the copious amounts of onlookers pooling around the shell as they carry it back to the shellhouse. They set it down on the stands and before they can even take their hands off the shell, they are bombarded by Washington fans. Girls reaching out to stroke their biceps or kiss their cheeks. Joe has never received attention like this once in his life. He’s as polite as possible, brushing off a few girls here and there and shaking the hand of the occasional fellow. Shorty has accumulated a few lipstick stains on his cheek. Don Hume is blushing from the tips of his ears down to the point of his freckled nose. Chuck and Roger accept a few hugs. They bask in the winners’ glory for only a few moments until the varsity team strolls by. They make a comment to Moch that Joe doesn’t catch but judging by the way Bobby’s shoulders square he can make obvious conclusions.

“You rowed so well today, Joe.” He hears your voice, and his palms start to sweat.

“Thanks, I uh—” It occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know a thing about you. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.” You smile at him, and syllables fall out but the crowd is too loud. “What?” Your grasp his shoulder and lean in, the sound of your name echoes off the shell of his ear.

When you pull away, you’re still smiling but before Joe can ask you another question, Bobby is buzzing by with a play-by-play of exactly what happened in Bobby’s world.

You shade your eyes and peer down at the docks, “Looks like dad is almost done with the varsity. I should get down there.” You say, and Bobby turns around to talk to Shorty. “Hey. Will I see you at the party tonight?” Your hand rests on Joe’s shoulder. He prays you can’t feel his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good. You had better save a dance for me, Joe Rantz.”

You leave him breathless, the butterflies in his stomach so vicious that he shudders. He watches you disappear down the pathway to the dock and his heart starts hammering with anticipation. You want to dance with him. You want to touch his hands, touch him. And then he remembers that you already did that, he was too focused on the motion of your lips that he’d hardly registered the sensation of your hands on his arm. Damn! What had it felt like? He’d remembered it’d made him flabbergasted and choked his speech but he couldn’t remember how the grooves in your palm felt as they brushed over his skin. The warmth of your fingertips. He curses himself out and vanishes into the locker room to get changed.

…

The dance rolls around rather too quickly and Joe is swimming in nerves. He has to tie his tie twice because he messes up so badly, he can’t even draw it tight to his neck. Roger found out all too quickly and hasn’t let Joe catch a break.

“A date with coach’s daughter. Careful Joe, Ulbrickson might throw you off the team if he catches the wrong look in your eye.”

“Shut up, Roger, I’m not greasy like you”

“Ouch, that hurts me.”

“Clearly not enough.” Joe hisses as he finally gets his tie right.

“Feels like I’m a father about to send his kid off to prom.”

Joe sighs and throws on his suit coat. “Oh, please—”

“Look at you fly, shooting out of your league.”

Roger works a smile onto Joe’s face, and they set off for the party. Spring is finally warming the campus up from a brutal winter and a few couples mull around outside. Joe and Roger find their way into the crowded gymnasium, both shocked by just how loud it is. Joe can’t even hear his own thoughts. They spot the team almost immediately, clustered around tables, drinks in their hands. A few of the boys are dancing with some lovely dames, a few are leaned against the wall having close conversations. Don is sitting by himself on a bench a few feet away from the refreshment table, watching the dance floor. Joe is turning to follow Roger towards the other boys but an arm loops through his, “Thought you weren’t going to show.” You practically shout.

Joe can’t help but grin as you capture his attention. “You weren’t joking.”

“Not a bit, Rantz, didn’t have any other dancing plans except for this one.”

“Guess I should make it worth your wait then.” Joe leads you into the thicket of bodies.

He prides himself on the laugh you let out, “please do,” you say as he takes your hands and spins to face you. He places his hand high on your waist and cradles the other gently in his palm. He can feel the smooth plains of you hand against his. Each crease and each callous. His are no doubt unbelievably rough from the rowing and he would feel bad but right now all he can feel are your fingers lacing through his. “You’re not half bad.” You tease. Joe knows his cheeks are heating up to a flaming red. Probably his ears too.

His hand migrates to the small of your back as the music changes into a soft slow song. “I’ll be completely honest,” he starts, “I had no idea you were the coach’s daughter.”

“Then who else would I be?”

“I thought you were his wife.” He looks away sheepishly, but your laughter is so unrestrained and whole that Joe’s heart melts. You can’t stop laughing either and it’s contagious.

“You’re an engineering student, right?” Your shoes brush as you sway with him.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Joyce.” Joe’s heart drops. In his infatuation he’d forgotten all about her. “She was trying to hit on you, but she figured out that your attention was elsewhere.”

“You too are good friends then?”

“Just since the start of the year. We have an English class together.” You and Joe talk for a while, it forces you to be close and neither of you care to separate. Eventually, you move outside and sit with sit with Joe on the steps of the gym. It’s still chilly out and you sit close to Joe which he doesn’t mind one bit. At some point your head rests on his shoulder and you close your eyes. Joe can do nothing but stare down at you, his mouth agape.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You trace his knuckles with your pointer finger.

Joe’s head pounds, his mouth dry, “This has never happened to me before.”

“None of the girls from high school? Never?”

“Not one.”

You look up at Joe and reach to smooth back a blond curl. “Shame, they were missing out.” This makes Joe smile again and he’s immensely pleased with how easily you do that to him. Make him happy. He hasn’t felt like this since… he can’t remember when. Sure, he was happy when the team won but that was different. That was pride. So was making the team. This feels more affectionate, closer to the heart. He wonders if this is what love feels like but that would be silly; he’s only known your name for a day. He’s also never been flattered quite like this. Besides Joyce, he can’t think of anyone else who’s actually been interested in him. Certainly not one who compliments him the way you do.

People start to drain out of the gym very slowly and Joe checks his watch. “So late already?”

“Guess I should get home; my dad will be wrought with worry.” You joke and straighten out your skirt.

“Can I walk you home?”

“I would love that.”

Joe offers you his hand, “Where does coach live?”

“Not too far.” You accept his calloused hand and direct him off campus. Surprisingly, Joe has read the book you’re reading for English and time flies as you discuss the book. Then Joe makes a sobering comment that makes you stop and study him.

“His parents remind me of my own.”

Joe realizes what he’s let slip, “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m okay.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Joe presses his lips into a line and stares down at his worn shoes. A wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he realizes how ragged of a life he has lived and just how much it shows. “Well—”

“Is this why you have a hard time trusting your team?”

“Hey now,”

“Sorry.” You take his hands.

He grimaces and squeezes your soft palms. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.”

Joe sighs and swipes a thumb across your knuckles. “My Pops just… left me one day. Told me I’d be fine on my own.” Joe gives you parts of the story. Mostly what he feels like stomaching at the moment.

When he’s finished you let go of his hands and cup his cheeks. He sinks into the touch, soaking it up like a flower budding in sunlight. You don’t say anything, you just look at him. You look at him like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered and his heart trembles because he has never once known what it’s like to be that for someone else. And then you stand on tip toes and plant a hearty kiss on his forehead. “This is it actually,” you gesture behind you at the hosue that must be the Ulbricksons’. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice?”

“Yeah.” The spot on his forehead that you kissed tingles. “Nowhere else I’d want to be.”

…

The Poughkeepsie Regatta rolls around all too quickly and Ulbrickson has to make a decision. The varsity boat who deserves it. Or the JV boat who could win it. His hands sweat as he stands on at that pulpit and reads off his preplanned speech. As he talks, he thinks about the future of the rowing program. The jobs it has provided him and Bolles. About how Pocock would have to find work elsewhere and it’d kill Al Ulbrickson to send him away.

He leans into the mic and spits, “and that boat is our JV boat.” It has to be them. They have to win. Moans and groans blow his way as the crowd rejects his announcement. Regret washes over him but he cannot take this back. He has to be right about his crew. He tips his hat and hustles off the podium as the JV bursts into celebration. He has to be right.

…

Joe is more than pleased to see you on the train to Poughkeepsie. He slides into the car with you, and you chat away. You were fast friends the night of the dance and have since become closer. The kiss on the forehead still lingers sometimes, especially when Joe sees your lips form your smile. You entice him into some card games and eventually a game of chess. At some point, he decides that he needs to sleep and bids you goodnight so that he can find a train car to sleep in. But before he does, he sneaks a chaste kiss onto your knuckles.

His good mood is stamped out the very next day when the team takes to the water. They don’t row good, and frustration starts to build. Bobby and the coaches try and get them working together, telling them that it’s just nerves and new water. But tensions rise regardless. The days start to dwindle, and the crew is getting worse and worse.

Blame starts to turn to him, and Joe is at a loss. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s holding the team back, but he thinks back to what you said that night he walked you home. But the most awful feeling creeps over him, not an ounce of care. What’s wrong with him. This crew has been the only family he’s had in years. He needs them. But he can’t bring himself to admit it.

Before he knows it, it slips and Ulbrickson is exiling him from the boat. As the crew watches Joe storm away, their spare crawls in and they set off for another row. Bolles taps you on the shoulder, “you had better see if you can do anything. Enlist Pocock if you have to.” Your father nods along.

You set out to find him, not that it was hard there’s not many places he can go alone. He’s stuffing his suitcase when you find him. “Don’t start.” He snaps. Then he sees your expression and his anger sours. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t—”

“Don’t give up on your team, Joe.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, you’re quitting and throwing everything you’ve worked for away.”

“Don’t, don’t even start to pretend you know me.” He realizes too late that he’s made everything so much worse and before he can fix a thing Pocock is at the door.

“I could use some help putting another coat of oil on the shell.”

You duck past Pocock and leave Joe with a painful pit of remorse in his stomach. He follows Pocock and takes the talking to straight to the heart. As he lathers on a thick coat of oil, he figures he can bargain with Ulbrickson in the morning, but he should make a proper apology to you now. He racks his brain for anything that would make it right, but he’s horrifically inexperienced and it’s crippling him now. He feels like a child having a tantrum. He feels miniscule and insignificant.

After Joe dunks his brush into the whale oil can for the last time, he figures he’d better just confront the issue head on since he has no way of handling it delicately. He has no grace and he’s sure you’re aware of this. Pocock gives him an encouraging pat and takes the can from him. Joe winds his way back to the hotel and through the halls. Your room is on the second floor, third door down. He knocks gently, eyes lingering on the hideous carpet and tacky sconces. The door swings open after a moment and Joe is met with your disapproving glower. His tongue seems to swell in his mouth so badly that he worries it’ll flop out when he tries to speak.

“Coffee?” You ask when you realize he will stand there silently forever if you don’t let him in.

“No… I just wanted to—to apologize.”

“Oh really.” Your eyebrow quirks.

Joe is fumbling for words. You stand aside and motion for him to step inside so you can have this discussion in privacy. “I know that was wrong to take out my frustration on you. That wasn’t fair and none of it is your fault.” He twiddles his thumbs. How does he go about this without absolutely butchering it? “I just—” As he trails off, he notices a hurt dullness in your eyes. He recognizes it as pity. “You and the crew are really all I’ve got, and I’m so scared I’m going to lose it.”

“These boys aren’t going to leave you behind unless you separate yourself from them like today.”

“I know.

“Really?”

“Pocock made sure I know.”

The edges of your lips tilt up. You pull him down onto the foot of the bed and take his hand. “Are you actually going to try and trust them?”

“Don’t have enough faith to put it in anyone else.”

You squeeze his hand and trace a finger along his jawline, sweeping a knuckle under his chin. You force his stubborn gaze to you and find nothing but desperation. Wanting things like this doesn’t come natural to Joe and it shows, but he’s not so different from the other boys in that boat.

You reach up and fiddle with a curl, “apology accepted.” Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and he tries to choke them down. You place a hand on his chest and rest your forehead on his. His breath fans over your cheeks. The tip of his nose brushes yours. His shoulders sag inwards and he reaches for your waist.

“Can I—may I kiss you?”

Joe’s sweetness never fails to amaze you. You cradle his face and bring him closer. “Yes, Joe.” His breath hitches and his lips finally meet yours for the very first time. He’s gentle but generous and lets you kiss him for as long as you like. His arms wrap around you fully and hold you to his chest. He gets the feeling that he’ll be craving these moments all the time now, finally understanding what Roger and Chuck rave about. He’s hooked on your lips and your weight against him and when you pull away it breaks his heart.

“You should get cleaned up before you talk to my father, you smell like whale oil.”

...

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this. If you'd like to request, feel free to do so. I always love you in my inbox. I hope you enjoyed this fic and if you like it please check out my masterlist for more. Have nice day.

-the author

#boys in the boat #Joe rantz #callum turner #joe rantz x reader #callum turner x reader

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erideights · 7 months

Text

Little pieces here and there (5)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, three, four

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: light flirting, light metion of sex, a lot of feelings, super fluff (in their particular way)

A/N: I'M BACK WITH THE NEW AND LAST (????) CHAPTER OF THE SERIES AFTER AN HIATUS WEEK. I wanted to post something good, something beautiful, true to the characters and the story you all enjoyed reading as much as i writing! (sorry for the possible grammatical mistakes!)

Side note: this chapter is to be read with different time frames, so changing the lights of the room and their resting positions in bed!

"Say it."

"Nope."

"Why not!?" he whines, his beautiful dove eyes pleading. "C'mon baby. Say it. I deserve it. All the awards. All the honors." The fact he’s beneath her, trapped between her body and the mattress, doesn't help make him look less submissive. She has to admit, it’s extremely pleasant to see how his dignified ass drags himself for her.

"But it would be a lie," she says, sticking out her tongue in a gesture intended to make him suffer a little more. Unbelievable that this is the same man who forced her to beg for sex a couple of hours ago. "and I’m no liar."

''Didn't seem like a lie to me when you were moaning my name and cumming on my cock for the third time some minutes ago.'' Ah, there it is, his ego is back again. Or at least, a glimpse of it. Took a while to appear.

In front of him, (Y/N) just smiles devilishly, which makes Buggy growl and look at her with pleading eyes again. "Look, we already established I know and even like how you need to play difficult, it's part of your charisma, but I need to hear it, okay? I will give you anything your wayward, fussy heart could desire. Consider it a prize."

''Anything?''

''Anything.''

Hmm. She plays along, and pretends to think about it for long, torturous seconds, shaking her head from side to side in slowmo, taking a deep breath.

As expected, soon enough she decides to give in-- she’s satisfied after making him beg in her own particular way.

''Fine.'' She takes a breath and starts her dramatic performance, with one hand on her own chest, eyes closed. ''Oh, Buggy, you were right, you are the best lover I’ve ever had, thanks to you my soul has ascended and I have seen the One Piece.''

That is not the praise he was expecting about his sexual skills. Not even close. But was so /him/, so dramatic, exaggerated, and incredibly hilarious, that despite faking offense on his face, eyes half-closed, lips pressed together, fingers pinching her hips as punishment, he has to admit -he will not-, was funny.

''You're a moron'' That’s about everything he has to say on the matter.

‘’Like Ol’Axe-Hand?’’ She asks, raising an eyebrow, hoping he gets it. And of course he does. He's so surprised that he widens his eyes, smirking. Is she actually admitting how incredibly funny he is? ''You still remember that joke?''

''Was so bad it stuck with me since then like a fucking nightmare.'' Hit and sunk.

''Ouch''

"Don't worry, there's still time to improve the quality of your jokes. But for now I'll take the prize you promised.''

''Ugh, fine. What do you want?’' Buggy thinks he knows (Y/N), so he’s convinced she will ask for something impossible. A challenge that will ridicule him or an astronomical sum of money. ''If what you want are berries I’m sorry to inform you, sunshine, I'm broke, I still have to find...'' but the clown shuts himself when he feels the girl's fingers slowly caressing his sharp jaw, finally pulling him by his chin towards her. He leans in too, eyes fixed on her lips, yearning for the kiss he can see so clearly written in the dreamy way she looks at him.

There’s no need to announce it, nor to start it with their usual flirting or provocations. It's slow and doesn't demand anything at all, nor is intended to be the trigger of their next round.

It's just a kiss. Something so simple and intrinsically complex at the same time. And in the same way as if it had been the most fiery and passionate of his life, as not long ago, this kiss leaves him breathless, unable to form a single coherent thought that has nothing to do with her.

Oh, he’s down bad. Just like she is.

…

And there they are on the mattress, she’s sitting on his lap, legs around him, his hands on her hips, hers on his abdomen in a relaxed pose. The scene is typical of two lovers who have known each other for a lifetime -or at least for years- and not of two people who just had the wildest sex of their lives less than a couple hours ago. For the first time.

They tell each other anecdotes, surreal stories, and laugh together inside that little bubble they don't even know how it was created, where it came from, or how the hell it could have absorbed them so much, making them completely ignore the outside world.

"What do you mean a giant bird!?" she screams in laughter, her stomach hurting, her lungs burning. "Aha, yeah, laugh all you want but imagine thinking that you’re about to die turned into damn bird feed. It would fucking piss me off."

As it can’t be otherwise, (Y/N) ends up laughing until she cries with the story of how Buggy arrived at Loguetown, and the clown finds himself exaggerating his story more and more with each laugh he manages to get from the girl, eager to hear it again, knowing he’s the only cause of this beautiful melody.

It’s absurd how he would love -kill- to know more about her, ‘cause if he stops to think about it, he doesn't know this woman at all. He knows nothing beyond her name, her crew, and the fact that she has a bold sense of humor. She’s brave and sarcastic, keen, sharp, and much more intelligent and savvy than -in his opinion- all the idiots around her.

And this is how and when he realizes the post-nut clarity theory hasn't worked for him. Getting her out of his twisted mind will not be as easy as fucking her a couple times, get his needed ton of personal satisfaction from making her beg for him, and moving on to the next thing to do/achieve on his list.

Goddamnhim.

"Alright, as much as I love and enjoy being the main character, it's time for you to drop your femme fatale facade and show me who you truly are."

"Awh,’’ she smiles tenderly, reaching for one of his cheeks. ‘’you see me like a femme fatale? That's so cute."

"Cut the crap.’’ The clown slaps her hand away, not in a violent way, but offended. ‘’You're not easily intimidated and I noticed you're good with knives too. That's sexy, and it makes me curious as hell about what you did before you joined those shitty heads."

Fair enough, she would be curious too, so she thinks about it, a bit wary of talking about her private life because there is a part of her that prefers to keep it intact -in case she wants to come back to it-. However, she reasons, mentioning what she did without being very specific doesn’t reveal anything at all. It would piss her off if Buggy casually knows her mercenary name -by which she’s fairly known among marines and pirates alike- and connects some dots all of a sudden.

Is he actually that smart?

"I was a mercenary." She says calmly, shrugging her shoulders. "With that angelic face?" He retorts in disbelief, raising both eyebrows, even though he knows it fits her personality just right. "You'd be surprised what you're capable of with it."

"No, no, I actually believe you." He cracks an amused smile, looking directly into her eyes after carefully scanning her face. ''I mean, If someone like you tried to sneak onto my ship I would know it’s a trap, either to kill me or to steal from me but I would end up saying ''whatever you say beautiful'' and would actually let you do your thing.''

He's an idiot but still, once again, he manages to make her laugh. “Looking like that, anyone would give you anything,” he adds because he is, in fact and undoubtedly, willing to give her a little more of himself. More time and more attention, because he should definitely be out there gathering his crew -only God knows what they'll be doing- and figuring out how to get to the Grand Line without a damn map.

The idea of asking her, or even suggesting she steals it for him, doesn't even cross his mind. Not even after having shared this /intimate/ afternoon together. He knows she won't do it, she doesn’t own him shit, she’s not one of these women who fall in love and suddenly do everything, and leave everything behind, for the man of their dreams.

And of course Buggy can see the way she looks at him, without an ounce of contempt or distaste for his extravagant appearance or the atrocities he's sure she knows he's committed and of which he's not one bit ashamed. She sees him as he is and still, she’s here, offering him back something as valuable as her time and company.

But she won't give him more, he is aware of that. That's why he didn't offer (Y/N) to run away with him when he escaped from Arlong Park, because as much as she enjoys his company and maybe, just maybe, the clown imagines, feels something for him, he has the impression she’s a disgustingly loyal person, to her principles and her people, and as much as she likes to flirt with him, she would have said no.

He must admit, that's also how he likes her. Strong, capable, independent. He would kill no matter who to have her by his side as part of his crew, although he knows it won't happen. He would settle, however, with the -hypothetical- opportunity to meet from time to time on the high seas or on any random island. To sneak away from their crews in secret, to disappear for a few hours in which all his attention, his entire being, could focus on her, lower the curtain just a little, leave the spotlight behind and relax.

There is a small part of him, the one that makes him unable to stop looking intensely at her with those blue eyes that mirrors his own soul, that truly hopes she feels the same.

…

''You know'' she starts, absently stroking his hair, the clown's head in her lap. ''I imagine-- no, I know the whole nose topic is a sensitive thing for you but honestly, it shouldn't-- big noses are incredibly attractive, and yours? Believe me, anyone would want to sit on it.’’

What.

He's so taken aback by the suddenness of the comment he completely forgets what they were talking about before and on top of that, he's unable to reply for some seconds, looking at her like she just started speaking in another, incomprehensible language.

He ends up raising an eyebrow, running his tongue over his red lips. ''Including you?''

''Including me''

''Well, sunshine, today's your lucky day then'' Sitting up, in a blink of her eyes he turns, catches the girl's hips and drags her with him, lying down, leaving her sitting on his chest while he rest his head on the pillow. Buggy winks at her, licking his lips again, this time cheekily rather than thoughtfully. “I’m about to make another one of your dreams come true.”

''Horny bastard.'' she whispers, swallowing saliva. What a view, having him between her legs again. ''Never denied, sweetheart'' with a low, erotic, and breathtaking laugh, he surrounds both her thighs with his arms and pulls her body up in a quick movement, causing a sudden brush of his nose against the inside of her thigh.

(Y/N) shudders and takes a deep breath, spreading her legs a little further as she settles them on the pillow. ''Show me what else you can do, captain.'' To that he just groans, already getting hard with just having her on top of his face and her way of talking to him, pushing his buttons just the right way.

In no time she’s a complete, total, and absolute mess, writhing with pleasure. Hands grabbing his hair, hips rocking over his mouth, forcing his nose to rub against her clitoris, she softly moans his name, an occasional insult or any other possible blasphemy.

''Oh, fuck-- Buggy.''

…

Worn off makeup all around her body, sun setting, long hours spent together in which they have told funny, long stories about each other's life and of course, in which they have ended up letting free -once again- that suffocating sexual tension that attracts them to the other like a month to a lamp. Buggy, surprisingly, ends up letting his guard down to the point where he falls asleep, and not long after, he starts snoring.

(Y/N) knows, it's time to leave and look for her friends. She also knows she warned them about her obsession with the city and that the chances of her getting lost were high, and in that case they should not worry about her, blablabla, because she would come back sooner or later. She didn’t even remotely expect the reason for her disappearance would be a self-declared enemy -Luffy’s enemy- of her crew, tho. Neither was she going to spend so much time away from them to be with him.

The excuses she will need to cover her tracks are endless, and a pain in the ass without even started to think about them yet.

Will Zoro still be lost somewhere on the island? Because she obviously assumed, he got lost as soon as they split.

Still in bed, she takes a moment to calmly look at him. (Y/N) is aware of how this may be the last time they ever see each other, and -not- surprisingly, this thought sparks a pang of sadness in her. She really likes him. She wouldn't say she is in love with him, because those are big words and they barely know each other yet, but... he was right, the chemistry between the two was something impossible to deny. And it hasn't weakened, nor disappeared a single bit after sex. Quite the opposite-- It has become something more, a kind of deep and sincere fondness that in this precise moment, dark outside, distant voices over the window from drunkards and bastards around the streets, his breathing calm for a fraction of second, his eyes closed and the fresh breeze that enters the room, invites her to caress his blue hair while he sleeps, sighing.

It’s been a long, long time since (Y/N)’d enjoyed this kind of genuine, absolute peace, sharing with someone she cares about, a room where time does not exist and life is just a thought instead of reality.

Part of her wishes or better said, acknowledges, she would stay here the entire night if she could. The other says that’s ridiculous, and that those are her hormones talking and nothing else. It would pass.

But does she want it to pass? To fade away?

Finally getting out of bed -all her willpower at once- after long minutes in which she simply memorizes every possible detail around her, she begins to retrieve her clothes scattered throughout the room and get dressed in silence, trying not to wake him up.

Through all this process, in the depths of her head resonates a single thought, ringing as loud and strong as an alarm. She’s unable to shut it up. She can’t ignore it either. It's another kind of thought she shouldn't have, and at the same time… feels so natural, so logical, she doesn't feel guilty for having it.

But should she listen to it? Should she follow it?

Taking a seat in the chair that fulfilled its great purpose a few hours ago, she sighs, again, head resting on her hand, elbow on the table. With a small smile, her eyes fall back on that ridiculous, snoring clown. And then, she just knows.

Reaching to a little secret pocket in her pants, she takes out a small piece of folded paper and starts to open it slowly, being careful to not tear it apart, leaving it on the table of the room once the copy of the map of the Grand Line can be perfectly seen. When (Y/N) suggested her crew make a couple of copies in case something happened to the original, she never thought she would use hers like this, but she doesn't regret it in the slightest.

Biting the tip of her tongue, her eyes scan the partially darkened room, jumping from side to side. When she finally finds what she was looking for, she leans over the table, and taking the pen from the inkwell, she writes in the upper right corner of the map "I will be waiting for you right here, come find me" .

If someone asked her why she does this, why she feels this, why does she decide to ignore her common sense and give something so important to someone as -objectively- miserable as him, she would simply answer that there are things… or better said-- not things, but the little pieces here and there, pieces of himself left in her during conversations, shared glances, laughter, flirts, light touches and the deep strong ones that came after those. It's the way he tried to make her laugh at all costs or how he didn't give up trying to win her over. Those blue eyes so intense she would swear, they reached her soul, or the small, genuine smile she knows she has seen this same afternoon, really far from the forced, crooked, exaggerated ones he usually has.

It is all of this and much more, and opening the door of the room, closing it again so that no one disturbs Buggy while she escapes the building and heads to her ship to find her crew, she knows she can't wait to see him again.

She knows she will. Her sixth sense tells her so.

#the gif is an spoiler of the morning after #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #op buggy #one piece live action #one piece x reader #captain buggy #buggy x reader

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kishibe-kisser · 6 months

Text

Guard Dog (König x afab reader)

Tags: bodyguard! König x afab!reader, daughter of sus business man, age gap, cursing, size difference, mentions of violence, cursing, mentions of arranged marriage, primal play kink, size difference kink, the mask stays on, fingering, oral, cheating (kind of) praise, but also degradation, König calls reader maus (cliche i know but i love it so shh)

Word Count: 10648 (she's very long)

Calling yourself was a paranoid mess was an extreme understatement, knees tucked under your chin as you sat by the windowsill in your room. At first you were even hesitant to open the blinds, not wanting any light to come through. It was a way to hide, you didn’t want to see anyone or speak to anyone, all you felt was shame. It was humiliating, being attacked the way you were and not being able to do anything about it until someone showed up to help. You hated it.

Every little noise made you flinch, every knock on your bedroom door by the maid bringing you your meals or every time you heard the front door open. It made you hug yourself tighter, pull your blankets around you tighter and want to hide yourself further. It didn’t even happen because of something you did, it was all because of the name you were born with and the blood pumping through your veins.

Toying with a few loose threads on your blanket, you found yourself flinching at the sounds of a car door slamming outside and even harder at the doorbell. It had been like this all morning, interview after interview and you were going insane. It scared you that your father thought something would happen again and that you needed a bodyguard for that very reason. It scared you to hear the heavy boots inside the house, together with murmuring heading to the direction of your father’s study.

König never in a million years thought that he would have to start taking jobs like this. Retired from the military and simply tired. The retirement was enough to live off, at least at first, but the man was not only damn near broke, he was bored. A job like this, protecting some 20 something year old rich girl, it was easy money.

That was what he thought when he heard about the job, sitting here in her father’s office, his mask sitting over his face as he listened. “Since the attack, she hasn’t left her room. She’s scared and while I know it’s my fault, she still has her duty as my daughter. There are events she’s needed for and soon I’ll be finding her a husband.” Her father seemed level-headed enough. König never took a job without research and he knew that her father did morally grey work. That didn’t bother him, it’s not like he didn’t have to make morally grey choices of his own while in the service. This was definitely going to be a simple job.

“Looking at your qualifications, I have no doubt you’ll be the safest option for my daughter. You have the job… only I do have a question. Do you always wear the mask?” König knew this question was coming, while he retired his old sniper hood for a simple ski mask style mask, he had anticipated this. “It’s for her safety. My past created enemies but because I’ve always worn a mask, my identity was concealed then and it should be concealed now.” He explained, pausing before looking his new boss in the eyes. “She’s in safe hands.”

“Like I said before, she hasn’t left her room since it happened.” Your father led him up the stairs, explaining once more. “I’m hoping you can help get her out and about again. Provide a safe feeling.” The irony wasn’t lost on him with the last part. He was a six foot ten, Austrian, ex-military man wearing a ski mask, he was intimidating and he knew it. But you were a young lady and that required a gentler hand, one he suddenly wasn’t so sure he had. He watched your father knock on the door, gently before opening it.

“I have someone for you to meet. This is König, he will be your new body guard.” Your father stepped out of the way, allowing him to peer into your dark room. It was decorated simply with a few feminine touches of in the décor, it made him realize he’d never stood in a room like this before. Looking around further, he found you curled up on the windowsill, a small ball in a blanket like a cat. You looked absolutely terrified, staring at him with big eyes and balled fists in your blankets. Small scratches littered your face and a large band aid sat on the side of your forehead, this was undoubtedly why you were so terrified. It seemed the attack had left physical marks as well as mental ones. König felt an overwhelming sense of anger, seeing you this scared. Wondering how people could take someone so seemingly vulnerable and hurt them, no matter their family ties.

“I’ll leave you to get acquainted.” Your father left the room, feeling the tension of fear. He never did quite understand how to handle your emotions or take care of you in any situation. If giving you a bodyguard was his way of trying, you had to accept it. You just didn’t think it would be this massive of a man, wearing a mask.

You watched him walk over to you, the heavy footsteps you heard on the stairs now replaced with light ones. He was so massive, the gentleness in his steps was impressive but his sudden movement to kneel made you flinch nonetheless. You tucked your knees further under your chin, you hated feeling this way but you couldn’t help it. You were an adult woman, you knew that. But the sheer size of this man left you feeling like a small mouse and it had you acting like one.

“I know I can be intimidating.” He had an accent when he spoke, looking at you with baby blue eyes. They were his only feature peaking through the mask and looking into them made a feeling of ease overcome your body. “But you don’t need to jump.” He laughed lightly, wanting to make you feel comfortable. “Your father says you haven’t left your room in days, why’s that?” He asked, his voice gentle as he took in your features. “I- I’m embarrassed.” You admitted, telling someone your true feelings after days. If he was going to protect you, he needed to know. “You feel like they took something from you, right?” He asked further, eyes growing even more sympathetic. You felt broken and it was obvious to him, he was taught to read people after all. He didn’t like seeing someone who hadn’t done anything wrong feel so humiliated.

“I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop it, I needed to wait for help.” You thought back to it all, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill. “Shhh, maus. I’ll help you. I won’t just protect you. I’ll make sure you can help yourself, protect yourself. I’ll teach you.” He said, the words leaving his lips before he even knew he meant them. He wanted it to be an easy job and teaching you how to protect yourself should be easy enough. He had trained plenty of soldiers back in the day.

“You’ll teach me?” You asked, looking at him with a cocked brow. You suddenly didn’t look so sad anymore and it made him chuckle. His large hand extending to your face and softly wiping your tears away. “Yes, Maus. I’ll teach you.” He confirmed and you watched smile lines form by his eyes. “Now it’s time to get back on your feet, Maus. From what I’ve heard you’ve wallowed enough.” He stood back up to his full height, watching your big eyes trail up his body as he did so.

He had done research about your father, what he did for a living, the way he conducted his business and the basic knowledge about his family. Yes it included some pictures of you, but they were mainly old. He hadn’t seen just what you looked like until today and it wasn’t what he anticipated. You were stunning, a beautiful young woman that he was certain would be fought over when the time came to get married. König couldn’t lie, the way you looked up at him made his him blush and he found himself even more grateful for his mask.

The mysterious man had been on your mind the entirety of your shower the following day. How someone new in your life could put your mind at ease so much, simply by speaking to you without even showing his face, confused you. It made you wonder just how old he was, what his life experience was … what he looked like underneath the mask. His eyes were stunning, that much you knew but what about the rest?

The thoughts continued to linger as you walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. The house was quiet, as it often was. Your father never quite liked to stay in one place too long, so it was no surprise to find the silence. Truthfully, you were grateful for it. A part of you resented your father for the uncomfortable position he had put you in, you didn’t want to see him or speak to him.

“Goodmorning, Maus.” König’s gruff voice shocked you as you tried to pour a cup of coffee, nearly spilling the liquid over the counter and yourself. “Goodmorning, König.” You said in return, turning to look at him. He was leaning against the cooking island, arms crossed over his chest and that mask covering his face. He wore a fitted, black long sleeve shirt tucked into dark green cargo pants and you found your cheeks heating up. You hadn’t even seen his face, yet the sheer size of the man and his physique flustered you to no end.

“Is Maus going to be my nickname from now on?” You asked, grabbing your mug and taking a sip of coffee. You hoped your question would cut the awkward tension in the air, wanting to know more about this man. He was unconventional, not anything you expected from a bodyguard. You expected someone quiet in the corner of a room, wearing a suit and not making himself known until necessary. König seemed to be the exact opposite, making himself known, taking up space in the room.

“It’s fitting, no? Compared to me you’re a little maus.” You could tell he was smiling, his eyes crinkling up again like the night before. He wasn’t wrong, compared to him that was exactly what you were. “I suppose.” You agreed, sighing slightly and looking to the floor. You looked up again, finding his eyes scanning your body language and suddenly you felt exposed. Wearing a comfy sweater and shorts wasn’t exactly the most flattering thing and feeling him stare at you the way he was, it made you self conscious.

“You seem to have something bothering you.” He stated, watching the way you wrapped your arms around your torso to hide yourself. “Not bothering me necessarily.” You admitted, pausing to pull yourself to sit on the counter. “I have questions.” You said, hoping he would understand your curiosity. “That was to be expected, our talk yesterday was brief. Fire away.” He nodded and you let out a sigh of relief. “Where are you from, I can’t quite place the accent?” You asked, watching his chest rumble with laughter. “I’m from Austria. Was that what was plaguing your mind? You truly are fascinating, maus.” He remarked and you smiled, something you hadn’t quite done for days. “It was one of the things. How old are you?” You continued, just wanting some answers. “I’m almost 40.” He said, tone a little more somber at the question. His age seemed to be something he slightly griped with, but that was too personal to ask about.

“What did you do before this?” You didn’t realise but you were leaning forward, getting drawn in by his responses. He took a few steps closer, now leaning directly across from you against the island. “I was in the military. I was colonel. Is that all?” He was teasing you now, you could tell. However the military made sense to you, he didn’t have the typical body guard approach based off what you saw from your father’s. “One more question.” You said, watching him push off the island and come closer to you. You swallowed thickly, seeing him so up close and so much bigger than you. He looked down at you on the counter, blinking at you in anticipation.

“Will you ever take off the mask?” You asked, itching to see his face. Secretly you hoped he would take it off right there, your hand absentmindedly travelling upwards to touch the fabric of the mask. König’s hand quickly, but softly wrapped around your wrist to stop the action. “The mask, Kleine maus, stays on. Always.”

From your knowledge about bodyguards, they were supposed to be silent protectors. He was the exact opposite, he liked to talk but kept his past under wraps. König liked to ask you questions, get to know you more. He knew a lot about you based on your file, but that was official information. The more personal things made it easier for him to protect you, that and he was genuinely curious about you.

“Have you done this job before?” You asked, tugging on the waist band of your cocktail dress. It was a modest little black dress, classy and pretty, perfect for showing you off to your father’s colleagues. While you hated the thought, it was your daughterly duty so you squeezed yourself into the dress picked out for you. Only it was incredibly tight around your waist, making breathing a little uncomfortable.

“Yes, is it your first time in a dress this tight?” His accent especially gruff. It seemed König was just as uncomfortable as you, tugging on the collar of his suit. His regular shirt and cargo’s would have made him stand out more than he already would due to his size alone, he had to match the occasion with made you happy because at least you weren’t uncomfortable alone. He looked handsome in it, dress pants tight around his muscular thighs and shirt over his muscular chest. The ski mask was of course on, but it added to the effect. You found yourself blushing looking at him, not being able to help your mind wandering.

“No, it’s just been a while.” Your voice shook slightly, waiting for the elevator to make it to the top floor. You were anxious for the evening, even though it wasn’t anything new to you. König could sense it as he stood in front of you, essentially body blocking you from the door when it would open. “It’ll be alright, Maus. I’ll be there, watching.” He reassured, glancing towards you. He liked seeing you all done up but it was incredibly obvious that you were uncomfortable. “If you feel off, or someone is making you feel uncomfortable just come to me.” He added on, hand reaching to give your own a reassuring touch. “Okay.” You responded, squeezing his hand in return as the elevator opened.

König walked out of the elevator first, scanning the room for anything that resembled a threat before allowing you to leave. “Like I said, I’ll be watching from that corner over there.” He said, pointing to the corner before turning to you again. “Go on in and try to relax.” He said and you nodded, walking into the venue. “Oh, Maus.” He called after you and watched you turn around with a raised brow. “You look beautiful.” You smiled and looked away, trying to hide how warm your cheeks were and how flustered he made you.

You went through the evening, glancing to the corner and making sure he was still there. Not because you were uncomfortable or scared, but because the way he was watching everything going on was driving you insane. His intense blue eyes, not calm or gentle the way he looked at you, but intense and dark. He looked like he would murder anything that crossed him or you wrong and it made your attention span weak.

“It seems you aren’t listening to me.” The son of one your father’s friends said, taking note of how you were staring off into the distance. König was substantially more interesting than this man’s babbling about investments and what he’s doing with the money he earned. “I’m sorry, I’m very tired.” You smiled weakly, watching the man’s expression remain unphased. He didn’t care, he wanted you to listen, it was what he thought he was owed. Especially since your father mentioned you were on the market, if you even wanted him to consider you as wife (you didn’t) you should at least give him the time of day.

“If you want any of the men in this room to be interested, I would try a little harder.” He remarked snidely and you felt your stomach flip with fear. Something about the tone in his voice made you very uneasy. “Excuse me, I think I should g-“ You started, beginning to walk away only for his hand to find your arm. He squeezed it harshly, not quite hurting you but sending instant memories of your attack flooding back.

König saw it all, rage fueling him as he made his way over while trying his best not to cause a scene. Though when he got close enough, he felt a sense of pride through his body as he heard you speak up for yourself. “I wouldn’t do that, now or ever again. I have my guard dog with me.” Your voice might have shook as you gestured towards König, but that was alright. It was a start.

The smaller man’s eyes followed your hand, still gripping your arm as he looked at König. König was practically steaming out the nose like a bull, eyes angry and fists clenched, ready to take the situation further at a moments notice. It took the man 0.2 seconds to decide that it was a fight he wasn’t going to win and he let your arm go. “Not worth it.” He grumbled and walked off, König staring him down as he did.

Your guard was about to walk after him, but you placed a hand on his arm. He turned to you, looking at you with that soft expression that seemed to be reserved for you. “Master says heel?” He asked jokingly, softening his tone as he spoke to make you feel more at ease. However he could see your legs shaking and the way your breathing was slowly turning rapid. Not wanting to cause more of a scene, he quickly walked to your father and gestured to you. “I think it’s wise I bring the young miss home.” In reality, he should have waited for your father to respond if that was okay especially considering he was the one paying his checks. He didn’t wait though, turning through the crowd of people to grab your hand and tug you towards the elevator.

You were absolutely frozen, aside from your legs moving towards the elevator, you were numb. Staring in front of you and not registering anything that was happening, you wanted to go home, you wanted to breathe, you wanted to get out of that god forsaken dress. Before you knew it you were in the elevator, watching the doors shut. You hadn’t entirely realized it but your hand was gripping the fabric of König’s dress shirt at the forearm, bawling it up in your fist as you tried to make sense of what happened.

“Maus, look at me.” His gruff voice rumbled but you couldn’t turn your head. “Maus.” He said again, placing a hand on your shoulder. König had seen all form of panic, the loud screamers and the quiet sufferers, this wasn’t anything new to him. What was new was the worry in his mind seeing you like this. “Maus.” He raised his voice a little, not knowing how to deal with his emotions and yours. He did feel bad seeing you whip your head around, looking at him with a trembling lip.

“You’re a good guard dog.” You choked out, forcing yourself to smile now that you were out of the situation. “That’s good to hear.” He said, looking you over to make sure the fucker hadn’t left bruises with his grip on you. “You also did good.” He said, rubbing over the slightly red skin verifying that it wouldn’t leave a mark the next day. “No I didn’t. I froze.” You shook your head and he started shushing you before you even finished. “No, you stood up for yourself and then called me. You did everything you were supposed to do.” He reassured but you still felt a weight on your chest, you wanted to be able to do more.

The moment you stepped through the threshold of your house, your hands started fiddling for the zipper of your dress. You needed it off, you needed to breathe and while your panic attack had subsided, the pressure of your dress tight around your ribs was going to send you into another one. “What’s wrong?” König asked, watching you in the foyer trying to contort yourself. “Unzip my dress before I pass out.” You said bluntly, turning to look at him with the most serious expression he had ever seen. “What?!” He asked, incredibly happy that his face was covered with a mask. “My dress is so tight, I’m going to pass out if you don’t help me.” You repeated, enunciating every word to make sure he understood.

You turned around, showing him your back and moving your hair out of the way so he could reach the zipper. “Maus, should I be the one to-“ “No one else is here and I can’t reach. At this point I don’t care if you rip it.” You remarked and König found himself even more flustered than before. The image in his head of him ripping the dress off of you making him shake his head. His hand reached out, finding the small and fragile zipper. It would have been so easy to rip, your words really staying in his mind. You were attractive, there was no doubt and the effect you had on his emotions didn’t go unnoticed. Now you were telling him to undress you, albeit not in the most romantic way, he had to hold himself back.

The zipper slid down, showing more and more of your skin, his fingers gently grazing your spine as the zipper went down. Goosebumps coated your body at the touches but what was more important was the deep breath you let out at the relief. You held the dress up to your body once he was done, turning around and looking up at him. Your expression was not longer stressed, or panicked, doe eyes looking up at him with relief. “Thank you.” You said and he nodded his head. “No problem.” He grumbled and you stayed there, looking at him for a moment before realizing that you were holding your dress up. “I’m going to go change.” You said and scrambled off quickly, suddenly feeling exposed and embarrassed. “You do that.” He agreed and started loosening his tie, undoing the top buttons of his blouse. König was also suddenly having a hard time breathing.

“Hands up, protect your face.” König’s voice was raised and you instinctively listened. You were sweating like crazy, panting like a dog on a hot summer’s day while he was fine. Hardly broken a sweat and eyes looking at you with an amused expression. “That’s better.” He commented trying to hold back a laugh.

“This isn’t funny.” You whined, hands falling to your sides after moving your hair from your face. “I can’t help it, Maus. I’ve never seen anyone less intimidating.” His words were so degrading and if anyone else had said them, you would have been angry. “I’m trying my best.” You whined again and he mussed your hair, to tease you. “I know.” He added on and you could see his mask shift, something you had learned to be a smile.

Since that night, you had expressed you wanted to be able defend yourself. Not just call for your guard dog to do so. Mentioning that König wouldn’t be there forever to do so, the words stinging a little when he heard them. He cold understand though and he admired you for it. So he started training you with the most basic self defence and to put it nicely, you sucked at it. But you were trying and that was what’s important, having the knowledge was half the battle.

Today was no different from the last 2 training days, König dawning a black compression shirt and his khaki cargo pants. You couldn’t even lie, you were checking him out. The years of military service being so evident on him and his body. It was partially the reason you sucked at fighting so much, you were distracted. So distracted, one of your attacks led to you being pinned to the ground. König’s body, warm and big pressing you against the ground with his hands pinning yours down. His face was only inches from yours and you had to do everything in your power not to moan out.

“Now, hands up again.” He commanded and you listened, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. You tried getting into the stance he had taught you prior only for your shoelaces to come undone and tripping you. The heartiest laugh you had ever heard left his mouth and you found yourself laughing too at just how pathetic this situation was. You were grateful for him, you hadn’t laughed like this in a long time. “Oh Maus.” He shook his head between laughter and leaning down to help you up from the ground. Instead of pulling you to your feet however, he pulled you off the ground and over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You lifted off the ground with a squeal, laughing as he carried you and you hit his lower back lightly. “Put me down!” You yelled between laughs, feeling the way his hand held the back of your knees to keep you in place. “You need to be less distracted during training, otherwise someone like me can just pick you up and take you.” He joked, spinning slightly to mess with you further.

He hadn’t anticipated you’d be so easy to throw over his shoulder, thoughts headed straight for the gutter once more. It was something that seemed to be happening more and more, each day he found something you did so incredibly attractive. These training sessions, seeing you sweating and panting, pressing your body into his, he felt like a mad man.

“Y/N.” Your father’s voice was stern, standing in the doorway looking at you both. “I need to talk to you.” He added on and you looked at him from König’s back. The man gently put you back down onto your feet and you straightened your clothes out. “Go on, I’ll clean up here.” König nodded between you and your father.

Following your father, you wandered to his office and wiped the sweat from your forehead with your arm. He was looking at you with an expression you weren’t entirely familiar with, it was between pity and something else, something you couldn’t put your finger on. “You seem to be doing better.” He remarked, sitting behind his desk. “I am…” You trailed off, thinking about König. “König has been a big help and a big comfort.” You added on and you watched your father smile, but you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t pull you aside to talk about your well-being.

“I’m glad. He seems to make you feel safe.” He paused, clearing his throat and looking at you. “I received an interesting offer a few days ago. I’ve been mulling it over. The offer was in regards to marrying you.” He explained and you felt your heart sink, words getting caught in your throat. “Seems you left quite the impression at the last party. Mr. Anderson was quite taken with you.” You took a moment to think, pull up a mental image of the man. However the moment a face could be placed to the name, you shot up from your seat. “Surely you’re joking. After the way he treated me at the party?” You asked, arms crossing over your chest for comfort. It felt like a sick joke, that that man had even made the suggestion after the way you were treating. It felt even worse to know your father considered it, especially after how the evening went.

“He apologized for his behaviour and made an incredible proposal.” He explained and you just huffed, normally you weren’t this emotional around your father but you were so angry it was just coming out. “He apologized? I didn’t receive an apology. Which to me means he apologized to you.” You were ranting now, tears of anger stinging at your eyes. “Y/N stop this. It’s no use.” Your father hushed you, making all your motions halt at once. His tone was scary reminding you just of the reason why you weren’t close to begin with. It was silly to think he would listen, or take any of your feelings into consideration. “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.” He sighed, looking at your face and your unreadable expression. Not that he ever was good at reading your expressions. “I already accepted the offer.”

You were stewing in anger, that was clear to anyone who would look at you. Your position in the world had been made clear to you in the last days. A trophy daughter to become a trophy wife, an object not even worth apologizing too. You had shut yourself off a little, no training, no leaving the house, not unless you had too. It wasn’t nearly as bad as after your attack, but you weren’t exactly enjoying anyone’s presence.

It was nearly midnight and you were sat in the living room, the radio on softly as you flipped through a book you had started that morning. It was a calm, no energy activity that allowed you to immerse yourself in some other world, perfect for your mood that day.

“I did a security check around the house and made sure the alarms on the estate are all working.” You jumped slightly at König’s voice. For someone so big, he was so good at being quiet. “Thank you König. I’m going to read a little longer.” You told him, barely looking at him.

Your father had informed him of the news and what was wrong, feeling nothing but rage at the situation himself. It was disrespectful to you, the whole ordeal. He couldn’t blame you for being upset, he couldn’t blame himself for want to smash this Mr. Anderson’s face in. However that wasn’t professional, if the man laid a finger on you in front of him again though… being professional would be thrown out the window. He’d kill him if he had too.

“Maus…” König’s voice was low, sitting down beside you on the couch. His weight made the couch dip, your sides brushing his and making you adjust your position. “What can I do to make you smile again?” He asked and you fully turned your body to look at him, sitting on your knees on the couch. His voice was riddled with concern and you could’ve cried at the way he was looking at you. It was inappropriate to think, but you wanted him. He could make you smile again by being yours.

“Well.” You said, feigning a smile. You could fake happy for him, only for him. “You could let me see your face.” You suggested and he let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. The action exposed his neck and you had to bite back every urge in you to lean over and kiss it. “You’re funny, Maus. No.” He responded bluntly, trying not to show how nice it felt to have you so close to him. You pouted, feeling your sadness slowly dissipate just by speaking to him. Maybe closing yourself off was the wrong choice.

“Okay, hear me out.” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He was watching your every move, calculating your breaths and taking note of how your eyes started to sparkle a little again. “You can cover my eyes and let me touch your face. I won’t see you, I just want to have an idea.” He was calculating your request too, the thought of your soft hands tracing over his features. Even the thought of you seeing him excited him. He wanted it, but taking your safety into account was more important. He supposed you touching him was alright.

“Alright, Maus. We’re doing this on my terms.” His voice got stern, turning his body to yours. You were beaming now, so excited and hoping your imagination would be able to fill in the blanks of not having sight. Your hand shot up to his mask, getting a little ahead of yourself and he grabbed your wrist. “Sorry, got too excited.” You admitted and he let your wrist slide down slightly, now holding your hand. “Too eager…” His voice turned gruff and you adjusted in your seat. He let your hand go and placed his hand over your eyes, the warm and rough skin such a contrast on yours.

König looked at your face, his hand covering over half of it and he bit back a groan. “Can you see anything?” He asked and you swallowed thickly, rubbing your thighs together a little. “No, nothing. I promise.” Your voice came out in a whine, making the whole situation even more difficult for the both of you. You wanted his hands everywhere, all over your body and you definitely didn’t want him covering your eyes.

“Good, maus.” He paused and you could hear some rustling, undoubtedly him taking the mask off. It was a good thing you weren’t standing, his praise left your knees weak. You drew a deep breath, your hands itching to touch his face. You flinched slightly feeling his free hand find yours, very gently taking it and guiding you towards his face. “Be gentle.” He said softly before your fingers grazed his chin. “I will.” Your voice trembled and you leaned forward, not feeling any resistance from him. Your chest was pressing into his shoulder and your free hand was on his chest. König was watching your every move with a smile, glad that he could let his face breathe for a moment. Your fingertips tickled his chin, dancing over his jaw and down the lines of his neck.

“I can feel your pulse.” You giggled and you could hear him let out a chuckle. He knew his pulse was elevated but that was okay, you were allowed to know. Your fingers moved up again, back over his chin and to his lips. Your pointer finger tracing over the lines, you tried imagining what he looked like. König felt warm, trying to do anything in his power to not pull you into his lap. Your face was so amusing to him, the parts he could see. Your lips curled into a thoughtful pout and while he couldn’t see it, he just knew your eyebrows were furrowed. All these little mannerisms of yours he had learned so fast.

“I think you’re handsome.” You remarked, hands moving to his hair. “Do you now?” He asked, smiling. “I bet you’re even more handsome when you’re smiling.” You added on, not realising the hand you had on his chest had moved down to his stomach. König was glad your eyes were covered because the closer your hand got to the waistband of his pants, the harder he was starting to get.

“Alright, Maus. That was enough fun.” He told you and you instinctively pulled your hands away and awaited further instruction. The hand over your eyes moved, now holding the side of your face as you blinked and adjusted to the light. His blue eyes were staring intensely at you. You looked significantly more happy than no twenty minutes prior and König felt amused knowing it was because of him.

“Part of me was hoping you’d not be wearing the mask.” You remarked and grabbed his hand again. You wrapped his arm around your shoulders and let your head rest on his chest, grabbing your book again.

“You’re getting too comfortable with me around.” His words and tone were contradictory to his body, relaxing into the couch and into your touch. “I know.” The words came out like a squeak, trying to ignore everything you felt to simply listen to his heartbeat. “I won’t be around forever to protect you, I highly doubt your fiancé will want to keep me around.” He added on, feeling you play with his fingers. Biting back tears, you turned the page in your book. “I know.”

It hurt him just as bad to think about and if you were marrying possibly anyone else, he’d think it was for the best. This man though, from his reputation and what he could find about him in his own research just seemed awful. The only thing he had going for him was that he’s rich and that’s probably what your father saw. It made König so angry, he could have taken care of the situation himself. He was a bodyguard though, he wasn’t in military anymore, those days were behind him.

He had to remind himself that as he watched the room, ignoring the flashes of the camera as you took your wedding photos. He could stare at you for hours and any bad thing in his life would have been alright. If it wasn’t for the lump of a man next to you, he would have been entirely relaxed. However you were entirely uncomfortable, feeling him hold your waist and feeling his hand dip down to touch a little more of you. It was written all over your face and you were sure the pictures would show that.

“The way your bodyguard looks at me should be reason enough to fire him.” Tom spat at you and furrowed your brows. “It’s because of your gleaming first impression.” You said in return and he rolled his eyes. You knew he was acting like this because he was scared. König was scary and you were simply lucky that you had him on your side, you didn’t want to know what it was like to have him as an enemy. In his mind, it took one interaction with Tom to know that was exactly what he was, an enemy.

“It all doesn’t matter. He’s not coming into my home. Brute of a man, no better than an animal. The moment our marriage contract is final, he’s gone.” König could hear the conversation and it amused him. He thought he was getting rid of him that easily? It was a fucking joke. Tom thought König was an animal, he could show him an animal. He was your guard dog after all. “You’re half the man he is.” You said, leaning over and fixing your hair in the mirror. Biting back a smile, he shook his head to himself. “That’s my maus.” He thought to himself, anger slowly subsiding as he realised your growth. You were standing more and more up for yourself.

Trudging behind König, you watched him carrying a big tactical bag. The sun was slowly starting to go down, painting the sky in a light pink colour and causing a chilly breeze to flow through the trees. In moments like this, you realised that the wooded area around your house was actually quite pretty.

“What’s are we going to do?” You asked as he stopped walking. Something about him was different that day, his clothes seemed more tactical, his demeaner was darker and well you felt even a little scared of him. “Well, you don’t seem to be enjoying the fighting training so I thought we’d take a break from that.” He started, patting a log for you to sit as he started opening his bag. You sat down where he said, watching him pull a bunch of things from the bag. “Figure I’d see how good your survival tactics are or at least, how good you can hide in a scary situation.” A wave of fear and something else travelled through your body. “According to your husband to be, I’m fired the day you get married. I have to know you can at least hide if you’re in trouble.” He added on, eyes lingering on you. You hadn’t realised he heard that.

“You heard that?” You asked, fingers mindlessly toying with some of the gear. “Yeah I heard that. I also heard him call me an animal.” He grumbled and you suddenly realised why he was angry. You felt bad, until you saw him pull another mask over the ski mask. The loose fabric hung over his shoulders and had light bleached strips around the eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh as he looked at you. “What is that?” You asked and you could tell he was knitting his brows together in confusion. “It’s my sniper hood from the military.” König explained and you were still giggling. “Is it that amusing to you?” He asked, tone entirely different from before.

He knew he was being harsh that day, but he just was angry about the whole situation. When he came up with this training, he had you in mind, he needed to know you could run in a bad situation. For his own peace of mind.

“I though you said I needed to be able to hide in a scary situations? If you’re chasing me like that, it’s not scary at all.” You smiled and he adjusted the hood a little to sit right. You didn’t think this was scary, the same masked face that had other men begging for mercy? Maybe he wanted to scare you a little, maybe he was to easy on you the whole time. “You don’t think I’m scary, Maus? I’ll show you scary and I’ll show that weak fucker you call a fiancé what an animal is.” His tone was dark and shut you up immediately. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed. “Get ready to run, Maus. I’m not going easy on you.”

He had given you a 10 minute head start and you had taken off running, throwing caution to the wind. You weren’t entirely sure what had gotten into him but his tone and the look in his eye made you fear for what would happen if he found you. Part of you was excited too, wondering if you should not try too hard to hide. You rejected that idea quickly the second you heard rustling from a few metres back. Were the 10 minutes up already?

You picked up your pace, running a little faster than before. However you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer, your side already starting to cramp up as you ran. You’d have to try and hide and that was scarier than running. Coming to a stop, you looked around, seeing trees and only trees all around you. Nothing obvious to hide behind, which might have been a good thing. You tucked your body behind a nearby tree and tried regulating your breathing, hoping that wouldn’t be the thing to give you away.

König’s emotions had come to a middle, he was angry, frustrated and so fucking turned on he thought his cock would rip through his pants. He wanted you, in every way and while he had done a good job of controlling himself the last months, he couldn’t anymore. Stalking through the woods and feeling like a predator, his veins were on fire.

“Are you hiding, maus?” He asked, not quite raising his voice as he walked through the woods. He knew his tone was patronizing but he couldn’t help it, he knew exactly where you were. Not wanting to crush your spirit fully though, he drew it all out. Anticipation was half the fun, at least from his experiences.

You could hear his voice and your heartrate instantly sped up. Cupping a hand over your mouth to steady your breathing, you debated your options of staying in place or running again. “What’s going to happen if he catches me?” You thought to yourself, thighs pressing together to try and dull the ache that was forming between your legs. “Mausss.” His voice was still distant but his tone taunting you, now this was a game and now… you wanted to win. Pushing off the ground, you took off running in the opposite direction of his voice. You ignored the aching in your side and the excited feeling in your stomach.

“I’ve got you now, Maus!” You heard him call with a laugh, making your blood run cold. Despite all your aches you pushed yourself to run even faster and tried your best to tune out the rustling and the sound of heavy boots getting closer. “Fuck.” You muttered to yourself, not being able to regulate your breathing very well as you tried to push yourself even harder. You knew he could see you, so you didn’t bother staying quiet as a grunt of frustration left your mouth.

The footsteps were right behind you now, König’s voice feeling like it was right in your ear. “If you don’t run faster, Maus, I’m going to catch you.” Goosebumps coated your skin and as badly as you wanted to do as you were told, you couldn’t. König could sense this, your helplessness not to doing anything to stifle his arousal one bit. He couldn’t take it anymore, lurching forward and grabbing you. His arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you up before forcing you to the ground. You screamed at the sudden attack, squirming and kicking as he easily manhandled you onto your back. It hurt a little but it was a good kind of hurt, the kind of hurt that made you want to squeeze your thighs together. Only you couldn’t because of the way he had you pinned, large body in between your legs and one hand holding both of yours over your head as the other supported his weight.

You were so hyperaware of everything, the animalistic look in his eyes, the way your cunt was aching with arousal, both of your heavy breathing and König’s big, incredibly hard bulge pressing into your lower stomach. “Fuck.” You breathed, hips moving unintentionally to rut against him. “Does me chasing you like an animal really make you feel that way?” He asked, the taunting tone still evident in his voice. This wasn’t the sweet and kind König you knew. “König please.” You whined tugging your arms down to try and touch him. He was being so condescending, laughing at your struggle.

Your body under his like this was everything he had wanted, your eyes filled with lust and also a little bit of fear. Oh when he was done with you…

He let your hands go, lifting his mask to rest just on his nose before leaning down. You let out a soft gasp at the sight of his lips, shock at his resolve melting this badly. König held your face, adjusting his hips and angling them to press into your core. He watched your eyes shut, moaning his name softly. His lips pressed into your roughly, allowing you to moan against lips and you could feel his mask tickling your nose. His tongue snaking into your mouth as your hands gripped at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin through the compression shirt.

Your head was swimming, his kisses reducing you to a puddle of mush in his arms. It was all so much, the sounds of the trees rustling together with the earthy smell and the feeling of his body on you. This wasn’t something you thought you’d be into, not until now. He bucked his hips and you yelped against his lips, feeling just how big he was. He smiled, moving his lips down to the side of your neck as his hands moved to your hips and then to your ass. He gave the flesh a squeeze before raising your hips to meet his again. “You’re so loud, Maus. I’ve hardly even touched you yet.” He said against your skin at the sound of another moan leaving your mouth. “Wonder how loud you’ll be when I’m stretching you open, that sweet, sweet pussy.” He licked a spot on your neck before biting down, causing you to cry out.

He pushed your shirt up to rest just over your boobs, hand grabbing the band of your bra and giving it a rough yank that you knew would leave marks on your shoulders. Your thin bra straps ripped as he tugged it down, showing your bare chest to him and exposing your nipples to the chilly dusk air. He undid the remaining part of your bra and tossed it somewhere into the woods. He leaned back on his heels, looking at you exposed to him. Your chest was rising and falling heavily and the marks he had left on your neck from sucking and biting were slowly turning red. “Your body was made for me, Maus.” He grumbled, his hands moving from your waist up to toy with your nipples. His hand cupped your breast, thumb flicking the bud as you squirmed slightly. “I just want to wreck you, destroy you for that fuck who’s going to marry you.” His lips wrapped around your other nipple, biting down on your breast for a moment to hear you scream. He knew the balance between pain and pleasure and it was something you had never experienced. You knew for a fact you’d be ruined after this.

König pulled the waist band of your pants, pulling them off together with your underwear before undoing his pants. He didn’t bother taking them off, pushing them down low enough for his cock to spring free and against his lower stomach. You couldn’t help but watch, wondering just how you were going to fit him inside of you. Before doing anything else, he pulled his mask back down properly and grabbed your legs. You could feel your slick dripping from your pussy as he put your legs on his shoulders. His fingers moved to your clit, spreading your lips apart to swirl his thumb over the nub. You tried scrambling from the intense feeling only for his free hand to slap the side of your thigh, undoubtedly leaving a large hand print behind. “Don’t fucking move.” He warned, continuing to draw circles over the nub. You had never been this wet before and König was taking mental notes.

“You wanted me to do this, when I told you to run, you wanted me to catch you and make you go dumb on my cock.” He remarked and you nodded, head lulling as you did so. König chuckled, lining his cock up to your entrance. Nuzzling his head into your calf, he pushed himself into you and the stretch made you call out. Gripping the dirt around you as he bottomed out. With the minimal prep he gave you, tears brimmed your eyes. Not only due to his size but also due to the position, making his tip kiss your cervix in a way that hurt so good.

“Oh Maus.” He groaned, voice sounding like a growled as he fucked into you. You were a crying, moaning mess all tight around him and König could have cum alone from looking at you. He folded you in half, one arm by your head as the other held your waist for leverage with your legs still on his shoulders. His face was close to yours, wanting to see every little expression as he fucked you like an animal, grunts leaving his lips with every thrust. “Tell me-“ He started, hand coming up to wipe a tear from your eye. “Tell me how fucking good it feels to get fucked by a savage brute.” He was using Tom’s words against you and it made you clench around him.

“It feels so good.” You cried as you felt the knot in your stomach get close to bursting. “König, I only want you.” You added on, any thoughts of Tom (not that you had many thoughts of him to begin with) getting fucked right out of your head. Your orgasm hit you hard, your leg shaking as your pussy clamped down on him. Nothing but incoherent babble came out of your mouth and König found him pulling back to look at where your bodies connected, watching the way your cunt was fluttering around him. However he was nowhere near done himself and even if he was, when it came to you he was insatiable.

The small pause only lasted one moment before he started fucking you again, your eyes shooting open as you tried to squirm away, the pleasure being too much. “Your pussy is so tight, Maus. No matter how hard I fuck you, you’re not opening up for me.” He laughed, taking note of the way your legs were still shaking and your breasts bouncing with each thrust. Your skin was hot to the touch and you were trying to get a grip of anything for some kind of a hold on. You looked so fucked out, eyes glossy and lips swollen as you murmured incoherently. He was using you like his own personal sex toy, trying to reach his own orgasm now.

Pulling you off of the ground, he allowed your legs to now wrap around his waist as he held you up. Lifting and dropping you on his cock as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Every thrust had you crying out, overstimulated and closer to another orgasm. König’s eyes were locked with yours and you could tell he was furrowing his brows. “Please, please cum inside me.” You begged, voice barely a whisper. His eyes widened, pace faltering at your words. “Maus…” His words trailed off, mask covered face burying into your neck. “Please, König.” You begged again, sobbing as your orgasm washed over you. The man pulled you down on him fully and halted his movements, cock twitching as he filled your pussy to the brim.

“You made a mess.” He grumbled, feeling both of your release drip from your pussy as he stayed still inside of you. “Mmm.” You hummed, head resting on his shoulder as your body gave into exhaustion and wrapped around him for warmth. “Is my Maus tired?” He cooed, one hand stroking your hair. Your whole body ached in the best way and you were absolutely exhausted. “You aren’t?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him. The animalistic look in his eyes had died down, his normal expression taking over again. “I can’t be, I need to take care of you.” He said softly, hands brushing your messy hair out of your face. “I think that’s fair. You did tackle me to the ground.” You yawned and he shook his head with a laugh. “Oh my dear Maus. I love you so much.”

König had helped you clean yourself up, even helped you into bed but he didn’t stay the night with you. He retired to his own room, thinking about the way he lost control of himself and the way it all shouldn’t have happened, especially not given your circumstances. It wasn’t like he could go to your father and say you shouldn’t marry Tom, or tell him that he was in love with you… let alone that you had sex. It could make things even more difficult for you. Not to mention the age difference, he was almost twice your age. Despite all these thoughts, he couldn’t help himself but think about how good you felt around him and how sweet you sounded screaming his name.

You woke up to the sound of a knocking on your door, sitting up in bed you told them to come in. König peaked into the room and you couldn’t help the bright smile that formed on your face. It was in that moment he decided that all the circumstances didn’t matter. Even if he had to be your guard dog for the rest of his life, even if you were married and he was just there to satisfy your needs from that asshole, protect you from him, he would be okay with that.

“Maus.” He said softly, walking over to you bed and gently sitting next to you. “I was getting worried because you weren’t up yet.” He added on and you found your cheeks getting warm. How could you admit you weren’t entirely capable of walking after last night’s events? Between the running and the sex, your whole body was sore.

He pulled back the blankets and grabbed your calves, assuming you were sore before you even said anything. Wearing nothing but a sleep shirt and underwear, you felt exposed despite the previous day. “Are you that sore?” He asked with an amused tone to his voice. “Can you blame me?” You asked, listening to his hearty laugh. You couldn’t help yourself as your hand came up to his face, tracing his jaw through the ski mask. Your fingers moved the edge of the mask, gently tugging it upwards so that his lips were free and you leaned forward to press a light kiss to them. His hand had stopped moving at your actions, suddenly unsure what to do with them until he moved them upwards to your waist. He lifted you into his lap, leaving the mask half on as he kissed you again.

“You like it when I pick you up like that don’t you?” He asked, the slight mocking tone from the day before back in his voice. “I do.” You admitted, gathering your strength to straddle his lap instead. König leaned himself back into your pillows, amused at where this was going despite you being sore. Hands holding your thighs and slowly moving upwards, taking your sleep shirt with them. “I thought you were sore.” He remarked as you slowly grinded down on him. You were most definitely sore, but God you needed him again. “I am, but I’m also stubborn.” You said and he nodded his head. “That you most definitely are, Maus. So beautifully stubborn.” He said and pulled the shirt from your body, leaving you fully bare aside from your underwear.

Leaning forward, he kissed over your neck and collar bones as his hands grazed over the sides of your breasts. You leaned away from him, tutting slightly and he shot you a confused look. “I want to see you too and I don’t necessarily mean your face, but if you’re feeling generous.” You smiled, sitting down on his thighs. The man shook his head, hands still gently rubbing over your skin. “Nice try. I can give you half of what you want though.” He said, tugging his shirt over his head. “Stubborn girl.” He threw his shirt to the side and looked at you smiling at him. “If you want the rest off, you’re going to have to work for it.” He said, watching you take him in. He was so muscular, freckles spotting his chest lightly and a small trail of hair disappearing into his pants.

“That’s no problem.” You said and leaned down, running your tongue over his abs to the edge of his pants. Undoing the button and zipper of his pants, you tugged the fabric down together with his boxers. Seeing his cock like this made you sceptical once more about how he was going to fit. “Maus, you don’t have to do this.” He said, brushing your hair from your face. “But I want too.” You told him, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. “A thank you for all the things you’ve done for me.” You added on and wrapped your lips around his tip. Your tongue swirling over his slit as you arched your back and stuck your ass in the ear. “Fuck, at least move over here. Let me touch you.” He hissed and you moved, your head resting on his thigh as you sucked his cock from the side. His fingers moved to your panty covered slit, pulling them to the side and gently rubbing over your clit. You hummed around his cock, taking more of him into your mouth and jerking off what didn’t fit.

“Fuck that feels good.” He groaned, hips bucking into your mouth as he slipped two fingers into you. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched you out as he tried to keep his hips still, not wanting to hurt you. “Maus you better stop if you want me to last. You wore me out yesterday too.” He sounded serious and it made you feel good, at least you were on the same level. You pulled him out of your mouth, your head falling back onto his thigh as you moaned out. His fingers curling into you and grazing that sweet spot inside of you.

Pulling his fingers out of you, you sighed and moved to straddle his waist again. His fingers moved to your lips, waiting for you to lick them clean. “Good god, what did I do in my life time to deserve this.” He said, watching your lips wrap around his fingers. “You’ve been a really good guard dog.” You said once he took his fingers out of your mouth. He shook his head and grabbed your ass, guiding his cock into you slowly. He knew you were sore from the day before, he was going to take it slow today. Your nails dug into his chest at the stretch, back arching at the feeling. Your chest was in his face and he couldn’t help himself but wrap his lips around your nipple as he thrust into you. It was slow but forceful and the extra sensation made you whimper. “God, I love you.” You admitted in a moan, his cockhead hitting that sweet spot in you. His pace picked up and his hand pulled your head down, lips tangling for a messy kiss.

“Say it again.” He mumbled against your lips, holding your hair as he fucked you softly. “I love you.” You repeated, feeling yourself getting close. “I love you so much- oh my God.” You cried out, cumming so hard tears brimmed your eyes. König wasn’t far behind, a few more thrusts before pulling your lips to his for another kiss as he unloaded inside of you again.

Petting your hair as you came down from your highs, he put his mask on correctly again after peppering your neck with kisses. His nose nuzzling the side of your face as his hands rubbed over your bare back with you still on top of him. You were utterly in love, the post orgasm glow all over your body as he continued to rub over your skin.

“I don’t want to marry him. You know that.” You said and König nodded, not entirely sure where you were going with this. Surely you had thought of your circumstances too. “Maus, his words only mean so much. Even if he doesn’t want me there, I’ll be there. Protecting you, taking care of you. If he so much as touches you in a way that makes you frown, I’ll take his hand. I promise you that.” König's tone was so serious, making butterflies fill your stomach. "You promise?" You asked, tracing over the ridges of his face through the mask, trying to use muscle memory to see if you could see his face in your mind.

"I promise."

A/N: idk what came over me but I got possessed. Now I'll be mia as i really need to study. Wasn't planning on finishing this until the second half of the week.

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #könig smut #könig #könig x reader

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jjkamochoso · 15 days

Text

Pretty as a Picture

Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Fluff

When you’re exploring Marley with Levi and co., you find yourself enthralled with some new technology…

Warnings: cussing

When you and the others left for Marley, you had no idea what you were getting yourselves into. You were terrified that the outside world was going to be a vision of disaster and leave your high expectations completely unmet. However, when the boat began to dock at the port and you got a glimpse of the bustling city, you practically had stars in your eyes.

“Hange! This is so exciting! Look at all the new developments!” you gushed, taking in the foreign sights. They agreed wholeheartedly, rambling about certain things they had read about over the years that were going to be investigated today. Levi wanted to roll his eyes at your over the top excitement, but he had to admit he was very curious about life in Marley as well. As the boat started letting people off, you nervously ran your fingers over your outfit, desperately trying to straighten out the high quality fabric of your disguise.

“Are you trying to impress these people or something? Stop fussing. You look fine,” Levi said, leading the way off the boat without giving you a second glance. You looked at Hange, who just shrugged their shoulders and ran after Levi. You and the Survey Corps captain were in the newer stages of a relationship. You had known him for years, rising up the ranks together, and had shared a close bond for most of that time. Not too long ago, you both realized your relationship held the element of attraction for one another and after an awkward confession from the both of you, your deep companionship turned into a budding romance. It was all new territory for both parties, neither of you having much experience in the dating department, and the two of you were trying to figure out the right balance between your old selves and new title as lovers. You tried not to worry too much; Levi didn’t seem the type to break up with someone. If he chose to be with you in a romantic way after being your friend for so long, you’d most likely be together long after your bodies were consumed by the soil of your shared grave.

You hurried off the boat, your party waiting for you with anxiousness to get the trip started. On solid ground once more, Levi took his usual spot next to you. You smiled internally at the gesture. This relationship would have no hand holding (for the foreseeable future), but his closeness, akin to a guard dog, was better than that. Out of the corner of your eye came a flash and both of your heads whipped around to see what it was.

“Hange!” You pointed to the area from which it came, “What is that?”

“That’s a camera! It makes photographs like the one we saw in Eren’s basement,” they explained.

“So cool,” you breathed out. “What I wouldn’t give to have one.”

You suddenly found yourself being dragged over to the camera, Levi having an iron grip on the extra fabric of your sleeve.

“My partner wants one photograph, please,” he told the man working the contraption.

The man laughed a little, clearly figuring out you weren’t from the area. “One photograph, huh? That’s quite alright.” He turned to address you. “You can sit right here and pose.”

You nodded, slightly nervous but trembling with excitement as Levi handed the man the money.

“I’m going to count to three and when the flash is over, you’ll be good to go.”

You weren’t quite sure exactly what to do with your body as the man started his count but when you saw Levi watching you intently, you relaxed and broke out into the biggest smile. The flash went off and you were told to wait a few minutes for the photograph to be ready.

“Oh! Sir? May I please have one more? I would like one of my boyfriend,” you said, looking at Levi expectantly.

His eyes went wide, shaking his head. “No way. Your memory isn’t that shitty to where you’ll need one of these to remember what I look like, is it?”

You gave him the biggest puppy eyes and poutiest face you could muster. “Please, Levi? For me?”

He sighed, giving the cameraman more money. “Fine. But you have to be in it with me, brat.”

You cheered when he stood next to you, you on the seat once more, and you could tell he was nervous.

“Just relax and look at the circle in front of you. You don’t have to smile or anything if you don’t want, just think of a positive memory or place. That way it’ll look natural.”

As the man did his countdown, Levi frantically tried his best to look comfortable and right before the flash went off, he knew exactly what to do.

During your wait for the photos you heard commotion from the group about “ice cream” so of course you bounded over, Levi trailing behind you. When you got your hands on the treat, you took a big bite of it which was a huge mistake.

“It’s so cold! My teeth! Ouch!” you exclaimed, your mouth open as you tried to fan it out. Levi watched you complain to the teens that they didn’t give you a fair warning that it was freezing, a small smile on his face.

“Tch, give me that. You’re going to drop it,” he said, taking the cone from you. Learning from you the wrong way to eat it, he snuck a taste using just the tip of his tongue. It was cold, sweet, and a total waste of money—but if you liked it, he would gladly bring home the entire cart and the recipe. With plans to meet back up with everybody after you got your photographs, you and Levi headed over to the cameraman.

“That was very kind of you to let me get those taken,” you told him. “And I love that you did one with me. That means a lot, you know.”

“It’s no problem,” he muttered, eyeing every passerby so that they didn’t get any ideas of messing with you. His time in the Underground made it so that he hated being in large groups of people, crooks and crime always lurking about in those environments. He certainly didn’t want you to be swept up in any of it either, so his senses had been on high alert the entire trip. Thankfully that was the case or else right now you’d be splayed on the ground, grievously injured. Not from a criminal, but from some machine called a “car.” You two had to cross the street to get back to the cameraman but in your haste, you had forgotten there were technological advances you weren’t used to roaming around the city. You stepped off the sidewalk, chatting about something called a “balloon,” when a car came careening down the road, going much too fast for a busy pedestrian area. Levi had noticed it in the nick of time, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you out of harm’s way. He couldn’t even find it within himself to yell at the driver, too concerned for your well being.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hurriedly looking you over for injuries.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but,” you pointed sadly to the ground where your ice cream lost its life, “my ice cream isn’t.”

That earned a Levi eye roll. “Forget the food. If you keep up this carelessness, the photograph is the only thing I’ll have left of you after this trip.”

You sighed since he was right, as always. “I’m sorry.”

“Just pay attention. I’d hate for you to survive everything we’ve been through just to get taken out by some horse wannabe.”

You burst out laughing, Levi unintentionally lifting the mood. He never thought of himself as an overly funny guy but the way he had you gasping for breath after a hard hitting sarcastic remark would’ve made anyone certain he was a comedian.

The man with the camera handed you the finished products and you excitedly examined your solo one.

“Levi! Look! It’s my face!” You shoved the photograph toward him and he looked it over.

“It is, isn’t it?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement and wonder. He tucked it into his hat for safekeeping (and he kept it on his person every day after that so you were always together; it had miraculously survived the blast from Zeke). When you saw the photograph of the both of you, you were at a loss for words.

“We look so… pretty. Happy. Normal.”

Levi caught a glance and hummed in agreement. He was ecstatic that his actions translated well through the camera. When the flash was about to go off, he had placed his hand on your shoulder.

“What?” you had asked him, turning away from the camera to look at him, thinking he had a question. Instead, you were greeted with steel blue eyes that were gazing lovingly at you, while Levi’s lips were curled into a soft smile. He was the epitome of handsome and you had practically melted, lovesickness etched all over your features and the camera flashed, capturing it forever.

“I’m keeping this one since you have the other one,” you said, tucking it in your chest pocket. “Me and my shitty memory want to make sure we remember this forever.”

You nudged Levi in a teasing manner and he just shook his head. Finding your way back to Hange, you felt a sense of peace wash over you that you didn’t think would be possible in foreign lands, and that was all thanks to Levi. Even if you didn’t always express your love in the most conventional ways, he proved his loyalty and trust in you time and time again. You hoped your photographs would be preserved and serve as proof that the so called island devils weren’t evil after all—they were people, too. People who could laugh and smile.

People who could love.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi fluff #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman

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cieloclercs · 9 months

Text

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 2/? (read part 1 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. swearing, reader and charles cuteness but also obliviousness again, mentions of f*rerrai, arthur and joris being sarcastic bc they’re also sick of charles and y/n being oblivious

pairings. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. took a few creative liberties with this one in terms of the auction (especially the price, i have no idea what modern art sells for) but we’re going to overlook that ☺️

charles_leclerc

replies:

pierregasly 😉 joris_trouche simp behaviour ↳ charles_leclerc tais toi / shut up arthur_leclerc so that’s where you were this morning! 😃 yourusername thank you for taking me 😊 c’était parfait / it was perfect ↳ charles_leclerc any time :)

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y/nsart study: reflection & refraction. inspired by a morning swim on monaco beach (which charles woke me up at 4am for 🙄)

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charles_leclerc you loved it really 😉

y/nsart 🙃

charles_leclerc your talent never ceases to amaze me, chérie

y/nsart thank you char 🥰

leclerc_pascale Vraiment magnifique! / truly magnificent

y/nsart ❤️

username i’m speechless. imagine being this talented

username telling my kids this is da vinci

arthur_leclerc i swear you only went last week?? how long did it take you to paint these?

y/nsart they’re only small so not that long!

charles_leclerc she’s barely left her apartment all week because she’s been painting 😑

y/nsart don’t expose me 😔

charles_leclerc now that you’ve finally finished… movie night? 🙂

y/nsart omw

username have you ever thought about selling some of your paintings? because i’d pay definitely pay for these 😍

y/nsart i’ve never really considered it, but maybe in the future!

username UHM HELLO?! WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE SECOND SLIDE???

username HJSHJS THEY’RE SO CUTE

arthur_leclerc

replies:

joris_trouche looks very friendly 😁👍 ↳ arthur_leclerc 😂😂 charles_leclerc arthur… delete this 🙄 yourusername neither are you mate x ↳ arthur_leclerc it’s disney of course i’m not ↳ yourusername not the disney slander 🥲 leclerc_pascale Très mignon! / very cute ↳ arthur_leclerc n’est-ce pas ☺️ / aren’t they just

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y/nsart i’m so excited to announce that four of my paintings from the ‘flow’ exhibition will be going on sale at monaco fine art auction next week! thank you so much to everyone who’s supported me and my art in the past few months. it means the world to me 🩵

if you’re interested in bidding for any of these paintings, don’t hesitate to stop by monte carlo sales hall between 12 and 2:30pm! hopefully i’ll see you guys there 🌊

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username i wish i had the money to buy these 🥲 but i’m broke lols x

username the one on the third slide looks so real omg

charles_leclerc i’ll be there 🫡

y/nsart you say that like you have a choice 😭 i need you there for moral support

charles_leclerc whatever you want, chérie x

username charles stop simping on main challenge

leclerc_pascale Je suis si fière de toi, ma fille ❤️ / so proud of you, my girl

y/nsart je n'ai encore rien vendu, ne parlez pas trop vite 😭 / i haven’t sold anything yet, don’t speak too soon

leclerc_pascale Vous le ferez 😊 / you will

username so excited!!

username oh my god these are beautiful 😍

username you’re so talented 💗 did you study art at university?

y/nsart yes! i studied at the sorbonne in paris :)

username your art style is incredible! i’ve been painting for 3 years but i still can’t quite capture this kind of realism like you 🥲

y/nsart oh trust me it’s taken a long time to perfect 😅 keep going and discovering your own unique art style! i promise it will all come together sooner than you think 💕

username oh my gosh thank you so much 🥹

username i bet charles is sobbing rn because he knows he can never bag a talented queen like y/n 🙄

username so true bestie

username he’s just a simp for her like the rest of us 😔

username the way she’s drop dead gorgeous, an artistic genius, and like the nicest person in the entire world 🤩🤩 bitches wish they were y/n

username ‘bitches’ aka me

arthur_leclerc alright maybe you’re not so bad at this painting stuff 🙄

y/nsart THANK YOU arthur

username is he only just realising this now? 😭

y/nsart he’s still convinced he’s better than me (the only thing he can draw is a 2 dimensional car)

arthur_leclerc did you really have to expose me like that 😃

username PLEASE 😭

username i remember when charles first got into f1 and people used to say y/n only got so much attention for her art because she was friends with him. this is the biggest fuck you to those so called ‘fans’ who hated on her and i am LIVING FOR IT

*charles_leclerc and y/nsart liked this comment

➜ part 3

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thebibliosphere · 8 months

Note

I saw your post about ingram, and out of curiosity, is there some advantage to going through the whole self-publishing thing with retailers when you're just starting out? like I mean the way that fandom zines work is that they don't even bother going through ingram or amazon or whatever. they just set up a social media site (usually twitter) to gain followers, open preorders (usually 1-2 months in length) to generate the costs of printing upfront, and then sell anywhere from a few dozen to several hundred copies of their books (usually artbooks, but anthologies exist too). I've seen some zines generate over a thousand orders. they're kind of like pop-up shops, except for books. maybe the sales numbers aren't so impressive to a real author, but the profit generated is typically waaaay more than the $75+ apparently needed for Ingram Spark, so I still feel like new authors could benefit from this method too, especially if they just need some start-up cash to eventually move to ingram if they want to for subsequent runs of their book. I think authors would also have to set aside some of the pre-order money to buy an ISBN number to have printed on their book, and I'm not really sure what other differences there are, but I just wanted to ask about it in case there's some huge disadvantage I'm missing!

So, popup zines work well for some people, and I know some authors who kickstart their work successfully. But for a lot, it's just not feasible as a long-term stratedy. Or even as a means to get off the ground.

Fanzines succeed primarily because an existing fanbase is willing and ready to throw money at something they love. They’ve got a favorite writer or artist they want to support. Supporting all the others is just a happy by-product. They also take a HUGE amount of short-term but intense planning that just doesn’t always jive with how some of us work.

I, for one, would never offer to organize a fanzine. I’ll take part in them as a creator, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than subject myself to wrangling that many people and dealing with the legal logistics.

When it comes to authors doing anthologies, it'svery much the same. The success of the funding often hinges on having other big-name authors involved whose existing fans will prop up the project. Or having a huge marketing budget.

Most self-pub authors have zero marketing budget. I’m one of them, and I’m under no illusions that my work would not be as popular and self-sustaining as it is if I didn’t have a large Tumblr blog.

When I thank Tumblr in my forewards, I am utterly sincere. Tumblr brought fandom levels of enthusiasm to an unknown work and broke the Amazon algorithm so hard, that Amazon thought I was bot sniping my way to multiple #1 spots and froze my sales rankings.

That’s not the norm. And while I could probably kickstart my own work as an indie creator, that’s because I’ve put literal decades into building up a readership. I’ve been doing this since I was 16 and realized people thought I was funny. I didn’t know what to do with it or if I’d ever actually write anything, but it meant the groundwork was already there (thank you, past-me). I basically fell upward into my success by virtue of never being able to shut the fuck up and wanting to make people laugh. Clown instincts too strong.

New or first-time authors trying to sell their work without that will find it infinitely harder.

All of that aside, even if an unknown author somehow gets lucky and manages to fund their work, there’s still the question of shipping and distribution logistics. Are you shipping everything yourself? Better hope you’re able-bodied and have the time for it. (for reference, it took me months to ship out 300 patreon hardbacks because of my disabilites. It damaged my back and hands. I couldn’t type for several weeks after I was done.)

Are you going to sell primarily at conventions? Better hope you’re able-bodied, have the time and don’t have cripling anxiety about being in large groups...

Also, will selling a dozen to a few thousand copies in one burst be sustainable in the long run as a career? Not for me. Doing things via Ingram and Amazon means I earn a steady trickle of sales for the rest of my life provided the platforms remain and so long as I keep working and can generate interest in the series, not just when I have funds to pay for physical copies to sell. The one-time (in theory) cost of $75 to distribute through Ingram gets paid off pretty quick that way. And it doesn't require the same logistics as doing the popup/crowdfund.

Ultimately, it comes down to what you are capable of but also the type of work you’re doing. If you’ve got an extended network of fellow creatives who will back you or you’ve got a large following elsewhere, doing it like a popup might work for you.

If you’re an exhausted burnout who can’t fathom the short but intense amount of organization that sort of thing requires, not to mention doing it over and over and over... Ehhhhh. No thank you.

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holylulusworld · 1 month

Text

TOL - I’m your daddy now (2) - Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You reached the end of the rope.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader

Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, trouble, mentions of cheating (her ex), groping, breeding kink, smut, unprotected sex, implied oral (fem rec), sex on a table, doggy style, daddy Lloyd (not the kinky kind of daddy), Lloyd mentions anal sex (implied)

A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It’s the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine. It will lead toward Ari’s story. We will see their relationship throughout all other stories.

TOL - I’m your daddy now (1)

“Hands off, Mr. Hansen!” You slap Lloyd’s hand away. He tried to grab a handful of your ass, but you won’t have it. “Your filing system is a joke, and I don’t have time to deal with your libido while sorting all the files your former assistant hid under her desk.”

“Take the rest of the day off,” he stands behind you to press his firm body against yours. “I know your boss won’t mind. He pays you to look pretty and keep him happy.”

“I took the job for the money, not a limp dick. I already had a limp dick. He’s the reason I’m here. He wanted to push his useless dick into some new snatch. So, keep it in your pants. I don’t need dick. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Oh sunshine,” Lloyd brushes his hand over your ass,” don’t you want to feel the healing power of my cock fucking you six ways from Sunday? Only Lloyd Hansen can fuck you so good you forget all of your problems.”

“If that was true, I’d gladly ride your dick every time of the day,” you turn around to push against Lloyd’s shoulder. Since the day you walked into his office two months ago, he tried to get into your pants. – Or rather between your legs.

“Sunshine, be careful what you are wishing for,” Lloyd leans closer. “Tell me the problem that needs solving, and it’s gone. After I solved all of your problems, I want you to fulfill your promise and let me get my hands on that juicy ass and inside your sweet cunt.”

“My car broke down. My husband ran off with some skank and stole my money. I’m struggling to keep the roof over my baby boy’s head. And my son will grow up without a dad,” you huff and glare at Lloyd. “I don’t think you’ll be able to solve any of my problems.”

“Hmmm…” He nods and turns around to grab a piece of paper and a pen. “Car, deadbeat ex, money, house, daddy,” Lloyd notes. “Give me a month, cupcake and you’ll see all of your problems will vanish.”

“Sure-“ you grunt and shove against his chest when he tries to kiss you. “I got work to do, Sir. We have an appointment with your next victim in not two hours.”

“Victim? The ladies get money and grand-prime dicks they can choose. I force no one to fuck one of our clients. They come here to make money and get their pussies pounded like never before.”

“Just tell this to yourself,” you stick your tongue out. “Now, chop-chop. Get to work. We don’t have all day. I need to pick my baby boy up after work.”

“I’d like to work that body of yours,” he grins but turns around to walk into his office. “I hope you know that you got me rock-hard again, sunshine. The moment I solved all of your problems; I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

“Empty promises won’t make me wet,” you call after Lloyd. “If not for the money, I’d quit. And just you know, I hate that mustache!”

“You love it here, and working for me,” he grunts. “Just you know, if you ever get to ride my mustache, you’ll scream my name!”

“What the…?” You look at the keys of your cars in your hands and then at the parking lot. “That’s not my car!”

“Ah, there you are cupcake,” Lloyd purrs while you look around the parking lot to find your car. “Do you like your brand-new car?” He wraps one arm around your shoulders and pecks your cheek. “It’s a BMW X7, safe for kids and the ladies love it.”

“I don’t understand,” you lick your lips. “That’s not my car.”

“One problem solved, four more to go,” he kisses your cheek again, lips lingering a little longer. “Go ahead and pick your baby boy up. I bet he’ll love it too.”

Lloyd drops the keys to the car in your hands. “I—I can’t… where is my car?” You look at the keys in your hands.

“I got all your shit from your car and got rid of it. The papers are in the car. It’s yours, sunshine,” he grins. “I got work to do.”

You don’t get to protest. Lloyd walks away, whistling as you stand in front of the new car.

“You can’t just…what?”

“I don’t understand,” you rub your tired eyes. “I had fifteen bucks in my bank account. Now it says I got two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in my bank account. This can’t be right!”

“Miss, I checked your account thrice. It was there for almost five years,” she snaps at you. “It’s not my problem you have bad eyes.”

You blanch at her words. “If you say so,” you’re too tired and shocked to argue. You grab your things and walk out of the bank. This can’t be true. Your balance has been negative since your husband left you.

“Morning sunshine,” Lloyd greets you with a smack on your ass. “So, did you buy something nice?”

“What?” You glance at the paper bag filled with his breakfast and the coffee you got him on your way to work. “It’s your breakfast and the monstrosity you call your coffee.”

“Baby cakes, I didn’t get all of your money back and gave you a bonus for your hard work only for you to not buy you shiny things.”

“What? I—” You try to swallow the lump in your throat. “That was you?”

“I told you,” He grabs the bag with food and coffee to place it on your desk. “That I’ll solve all of your problems.” You end up in his arms, his face buried in your neck to nuzzle you. “I can’t wait to pound that pretty pussy. I bet you are hiding a hungry beast between those thighs.”

“Lloyd! Mr. Hansen!” You try to push Lloyd off of you when someone enters the building. “We have company.”

“Let them watch,” he purrs and nuzzles you again. “Did you ever take it up your ass, sunshine? I bet you didn’t.”

“Lloyd, a word,” a tall man with a thick beard, and dirty-blonde, shaggy hair steps toward you and Lloyd. He rolls his eyes as your boss shamelessly gropes your ass. “Lloyd! We need to talk. I need your help with something.”

“Not the ballerina girl again,” Lloyd sighs against you. “Ari, I told you to forget about her. She’s not one of my girls.”

You push against Lloyd’s shoulders to make him budge. “How can we help you, Sir?” You ask. The man doesn’t look like he has the patience to wait or to put up with Lloyd’s antics.

“Levinson, follow me to my office,” Lloyd finally turns his attention toward the impatient man. “I’ll see what I can do to get you laid.”

“I don’t want to get laid,” Levinson grunts. “I want her to be mine. She’s perfect for me. I just know it.”

“Perfect,” Lloyd hums. “Did you already get a taste of her cunt? I bet you didn’t and that’s why your aching dick tells you to marry her.”

You shake your head and try to focus on work, not the fact that Lloyd’s profession revolves around getting guys laid.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” You growl into your phone. “You have the nerve to call me to ask for forgiveness? How about you ask your son for forgiveness? No, forget it!” You snarl. “If you dare to get close to my baby boy, I’ll cut your limp dick off!”

You throw your phone against the wall, watching it shatter to the ground. Your chest heaves up and down and you’re close to attacking anyone coming to your path.

“Cupcake! What happened?” Lloyd pokes his head out of his office, aware that you are not in the mood to get messed with.

“He dared to call me to apologize!”

“Who?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“My ex-husband,” you grunt. “He told me that he transferred the rest of the money he stole from our accounts back and that he’ll sign the divorce papers.”

“That’s good, right?” He slowly steps out of his office, keeping an eye on you. “That’s what you wanted. To get your money back and his dead weight off of your back.”

“WAIT!” You round your desk to stalk toward Lloyd. “That was you!!!”

“Guilty,” Lloyd grins. “Problem number three is solved. And I roughed him up a little for you.” He shrugs. “I’m getting closer to the honey pot.”

Your mouth falls open. You don’t have a comeback this time.

“Don’t tempt me to shove something more than my tongue into your mouth. You better close it or you’ll be choking on my dick, sunshine.”

“You can’t just…” You throw your hands up when Lloyd turns around to walk back inside his office.

“I can and did, cupcake. Now get back to work. I’d hate to let you work overtime,” he grins and closes the door. “Only if it includes you impaled on my dick.”

“He…and then…” You can’t believe Lloyd roughed your douchebag of an ex up for you.

Why would he put so much effort into seducing you?

He’s a good-looking man if you ignore his personality and his annoying stache. Lloyd could have any woman, but he wants you – his chubby assistant with a kid and more problems than you can count.

Something must be wrong with him…

“Lloyd? What are you doing here?” You stare at your boss standing in front of your door. “My son is here! I can’t have you grope me or shit!”

“Relax, cupcake,” he grins. “I come in peace. I wanted to talk about a few things with you. My latest client needs our help, a special service.”

“Special service?”

“We must attend a dance class to help him,” Lloyd says. “Can we discuss this now or do you want to slap my ass for coming here first?” He furrows his brows. “What will it be?”

“Dance class?”

“Yup,” he nods. “How about I invite you for dinner and we can talk about joining a dance class to help him.”

“I got my son here, Lloyd.”

“Perfect,” he claps his hands. “I’m burning to get to know you mini-me. We will order food then and your kiddo can watch me do my job.”

“If you curse in front of my son, I’ll castrate you!” You point your index finger at Lloyd. “I’m warning you.”

“I’m a saint in the streets and a devil in the sheets,” he smirks. “I’ll behave. Promised.”

While you wait for the delivery service, Lloyd looks around your living room. He hums and sits next to your son on the sofa. “So, bud. How are you holding up?”

Your son looks up at Lloyd, squealing as he stares at Lloyd’s mustache. “Dadda?” Your son clumsily gets on his feet to stand up and grasp Lloyd’s face. “Dadda!”

“Hey, watch out, bud!” Lloyd grasps for your son before he can drop off the sofa. “Phew, you’re a handful, just like your mommy, huh? Let me get a good look at you.” Your boss smirks. “Look at you, you little shit. You’ve got your mommy’s eyes and damn me; you’d look good with a mustache.”

“What are you doing?” You gape at the scene. Lloyd is lifting your son to play airplane while your son squeals and babbles.

“Daddy!” Your son blubbers, making your heart ache. “DADDY!”

“Yeah, bud,” Lloyd looks you straight in the eyes, grinning. “I’m your daddy now. That deadbeat piece of … “ He clears his throat and reconsiders his choice of words, “crap can get fucked!”

“Lloyd!”

“Sorry, I meant he can ride into the sunset, and I hope a truck runs him over,” he grins and lifts your son up and down. “You are a cute little shit. No one will know you’re not mine. I’ll just make you mine.”

“What are you up to?” You try to fathom what’s going on, but the doorbell rings and you must get the food you ordered.

“One spoon for daddy,” Lloyd smirks watching your son shovel the food he ordered for him into his mouth. The peas and some of the meat end up on the table, but Lloyd doesn’t care. “And another one for mommy.”

“This isn’t funny, Lloyd,” you snarl. “If you fuck with me, fine. But keep my kid out of this.”

“Cupcake, no swear words in front of the kid,” Lloyd tuts. “I’m not playing games here. I want you, and you come with a cute little package. So, I’ll claim him as mine too.”

He turns his attention back toward your son. Lloyd grabs a napkin and wipes your son’s mouth. “We will teach you how to eat without dropping everything on the ground. Soon you will steal all the ladies’ hearts, bud.”

You shake your head and huff. This must all be a game to Lloyd.

There is no way he is interested in playing daddy for your son…

“Another problem solved,” Lloyd lazily leans back on your sofa and groans. “Damn, that food was great. I’m full.” He pats his perfectly defined abs. “I’ll raise your cute little shit and he’s got a daddy staying for longer than it takes to fill your cunt up.”

“Is all a joke to you?” You throw your hands up. “I get that you like to toy with me, but bringing my son into this shit is a new low.” You kneel on the sofa and bend over. “If you want to fuck me, do it now and leave my son alone. Come on, get it inside.”

“Y/N,” he gets off the couch to grope your ass. “I’d love to stick my dick into this perfect cunt, but I’m into this for the long haul.” He slaps your ass. “Stop being all mopey. I told you I like the little shit. He’s my son, and you are my dirty little slut. But you can call yourself my fiancé from now on.”

“Your—what?” you look over your shoulder. “Lloyd, my son cannot watch another father leave his life. You’ll break his little heart. Don’t do this.”

“I told you,” He huffs, “I’m here to stay. The boy is mine, just like his needy mommy.” His eyes drop to your ass, and he licks his lips. “All the dirty things I’m going to do to you. Like spoiling you like the perfect slut you are for me.”

“You’re so…”

“I know…” He grins and moves his hands to your ass. “Now, where can Daddy sleep? He wants to make breakfast for his little shit in the morning.”

“You can stay in my bedroom,” you lick your lips. “But only if you stop calling my son little shit.”

“We can rename him and call him Lloyd Jr. from now on,” Lloyd chuckles at your pissed expression. “You know, that’s actually a great idea.”

“His name is Y/S/N!”

“Debatable…”

Shit, you are in trouble. No – in deep shit. Lloyd easily made you melt in his arms when he told you he wanted to raise your son with you.

Now your boss has you bend over your dining table, ready to claim your cunt with his cock too.

“Hmm…dessert was nice,” he purrs in your ear, wet mustache tickling your ear shell. “I never ate a sweeter cupcake, Y/N. Now you’ll get the best dick of your life. This is the last dick you’ll ever get, sunshine.”

“Nghh…” You try to give him a snarky comment, but he stuffed your soaked panties into your mouth when he pushed you onto the table to eat your pussy like a man starving.

“Do you feel this,” he holds you down with one hand while he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. “What would your husband say if he found us here, fucking like rabbits?”

You don’t have an answer for him.

“He’d love watching me destroy this snatch,” Lloyd slams home with one hard thrust. He moans loudly and shudders feeling your walls open up to him. “Fuck, that cunt was worth the wait—” He groans into your neck.

You whine at your own weakness.

He’s an infuriating man, doing nice things for you and your son and you let him not only crawl between your legs to eat your cunt, no – you let him mount you like an animal at your home too. “That snatch is gripping me so tight that it almost hurts.”

Lloyd nuzzles his face in your neck, and purrs. “But it hurts so damn good, doesn’t it?” You whine again, smothered by his body pressed against yours, and your own neediness.

He slowly rocks his hips, forcing you to feel every drag of his thick cock against your walls. Your legs quiver. Lloyd is not your passionless husband, nor the vanilla guys you fucked before him.

The man rocking into you came to conquer and he won’t do it halfhearted. “I can feel your pretty pussy cling to my cock. She’s as desperate for me as you are. But don’t worry. I’m going to take good care of her.”

Lloyd is having a blast destroying all of your defenses. He dismantled your defense and now, you lie on your table in your dining room and get railed by the man with the mustache.

“Nggh,” you groan against the makeshift gag. Lloyd picked up the pace and you end up bumping your hip against the table.

“Fuck, yes,” he curses loudly. “Never took you for someone wanting me to fuck you on your dining table.” He stills his hips to nip at your neck. “Do you want me to cum inside of you, and give you another little bundle of joy?”

You shake your head, but your cunt flutters around his thick length. If he wants to fulfill his dirty fantasies about breeding you, so be it.

You push back on him, taking Lloyd by surprise.

He eagerly grips your hips to move his hips in sync with you. Flesh claps against flesh, and he groans loudly as you don’t just take it.

“Fuck,” he curses and grunts while you start to go faster. “Shit, yes…”

A little too fast for his liking you clench around his twitching cock. He groans and stills his hips. Lloyd can’t move or think. This is the most intense orgasm he felt in a long time, or like ever.

“Fuck, take every droplet, sunshine.” You close your eyes and shudder feeling his seed coat your walls. “I hope I put a little Lloyd in you.”

“Goodnight, bud,” Lloyd covers your son with the blanket. “You need to sleep now, okay. Your mommy is very tired.” He grins when you enter the room to take care of your son. “Shhh…I wore her out. She’s so out of it, that I need to take care of you.”

“Daddy?” Your son grabs Lloyd’s hand, holding it tightly.

“Don’t worry, little shit,” Lloyd looks down at your son, a smug grin on his lips. “I’ll be there in the morning to make you breakfast. And in nine months, you are going to have a brother or sister.”

“Lloyd, not again,” you swat his hands away when he tries to spoon you. “I’m tired and sore.”

“Relax, I’m satisfied for tonight. Three rounds are enough for our first time,” he plays the big spoon and wraps his arms tightly around your body. “Little Lloyd is asleep, and my cock too.”

You roll your eyes. “You didn’t keep your promise. I’ll still lose the house because my bank is a bitch.”

“Oh, about that,” he nuzzles his face in your neck. “You and little Lloyd will move in with me. I have already arranged everything. Tomorrow the moving team will come around and grab all of your shit.”

“What? No. Lloyd,” you sigh deeply. “Y/S/N needs a nursery and a garden. We can’t just move out of our home only because you are crazy.”

“I’m not crazy cupcake,” he nips at your earlobe. “I claimed you and little shit as mine. This pretty mommy is all mine now, and your son will wear my name too. He’s going to have a better father than I ever had. Soon he will forget about his sperm donator and call only me his dad.”

“If you hurt my son, and don’t keep your promises, I’ll castrate you…”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #smut #lloyd hansen x you #plussized reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #TOL - I’m your daddy now (2) (Lloyd Hansen)

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luvneymar · 1 year

Text

(1) LOVE TO HATE ME — NEYMAR JR

— SUMMARY: You & Neymar both were booked for a suggestive underwear photoshoot, the only problem? You both hate each others guts.

PARINGS: young!neymar x female!reader & young!lucas paqueta x female!reader

NOTE: any examples doesn’t not represent the race, body type or skin-tone of the female lead.

— “Yes! Just like that! A bit more slutty and you’ll be perfect!” The casting director yelled at you from the background of your Calvin Klein campaign, You laughed hearing the last part as you posed on the set strutting your body in different ways.

In the recent years of you becoming a rising star in both the athletic world & the modelling world you’ve been booked & busy with these kinds of activities & activities. The one thing that sold the most was your partner shoots with another male athletes or actors.

The first time it happens it was by total accident when the director doubled booked 2 models at the same time but seeing how much money it brought in for you & the companies, you had to basically expect for some handsome famous guy to come & sweep you off your feet.

As you were posing the casting director stopped the photographer as he walked onto the set to whisper something into your ear,“Darling you know how much I love your smile but, we don’t need it here. Look fierce! Look alive! Look sexy!”

He begun to adjust your facial expression by pulling your bottom lip out just a bit to create a naughty but nice type of pout along with curling your eyelashes a bit more to make them look “doe-y” at one angle then “siren-y” the next.

Once he backed away and resumed the shoot you took his advice & begun to pose is much more suggestive ways; ways that your mother would’ve smacked you for if she saw the magazine you’d be front & center in.

“Lovely! That’s what I’m looking for!” He yelled out waving his hands around in an attempt to hype you up.

Soon the flashes stopped as he turned to the photographer looking at the photos he took to approve them, he sent an approval nod his way signalling the standby staff to clear the set & hand you a robe.

As you walked off the casting director engulfed you into a hug patting the back of your head, “You did great today, your next set is in your change-room. As you know that’ll be your collaborative project. Get excited”

You both exchanged cheek kisses before your waddled to change-room feeling exposed & quite cold actually. As you opened the door you immediately searched for the clothes you were going to wear.

Except you only found a pair of pants & the iconic Calvin Klein underwear, not a shirt in sight. You begun to look around trying to see if your shirt was misplaced. Or at-least a bra; you never signed up for a topless shoot.

“My set missing a—!” As you walked out of the change-room holding the “outfit” you were supposed to wear you locked eyes with non other than— Neymar Junior. Neymar fucking Junior.

The Neymar Junior who broke your nose in Secondary School, The Neymar who cut your hair in middle school, The Neymar Junior Santos who tripped you in the halls. That Neymar Junior.

“He’s the super hot athlete? Oh, just kill me now.” You yelled out throwing your arms in the air as you spun your heels speed walking towards your change room grabbing your manager by the arm digging your nails into his arm.

As you slammed the door you shoved him into the couch throwing the clothes on the table as you flopped down beside him, “Seriously? Seriously! You hyped this up so much I thought I was gonna do a shoot with the Stephen Curry.”

“Just listen—” He tried to explain, you slammed your finger onto his mouth signalling him not talk as you shook your head side to side very slowly with an evil scowl on your face.

“I’m having a moment here! I specially said anyone but him! Did you know he broke my—!” You explained flailing your arms in the air as you fell over on the couch resting your head on the armrest.

“Yes I know you’ve told the story a million times and more, to be fair you weren’t all the kind to him either.” He cut you off as he stood up from the couch, “I tried to reason with them but you both are very popular on the internet. You even have fanclub—”

“Ew! Don’t even mention that to me. I’ll just suck it up & hold my breath till I die on set & blame him for 1st degree murder.” You grumbled swinging your legs off the couch as you sat back up staring right at the wall blankly.

“Your loss. I personally think he’s kinda cute—!”

“Get out!” You shrieked throwing your pillow at him as he rushed out of the room laughing at your reaction. You got up & begun pacing around the room chewing on your thumb nail as you pondered about how you could even do this.

You weren’t even worried about Neymar as much as you were worried about your long-term boyfriend Lucas Paqueta seeing this. You half naked pressed against another man; his best friend according to the concept photos you were given.

“I’ll just explain it to him later. He knows how much I hate him anyways!” You took a deep breath shaking off any negative thoughts you had lingering in your mind as you begun to get dressed.

It didn’t take long since all you had to put on was a pair of underwear, jeans, & a pair of nipple covers. Thankfully they ate last provided you with that seeing as how you felt as if you were about to film a porno.

You walked towards the mirror hands held on your breasts as you looked up and down at your attire embarrassed look melted onto your face. “Neymar Junior is going to see my boobs.” You muttered out, in disbelief.

“Neymar Junior is going to see, my boobs! As you took in the fact you begun to laugh uncontrollably at the irony of the situation, your arch enemy since your birth is going to be touching your boobs; a place only a select few were even allowed to see.

You wiped the small tears forming at the corner of your eyes due to excess laughter as you pulled out of your phone from your pocket feeling it vibrate from a text that read.“We’re ready for you.”

You sighed saying a small prayer before walking out of the change-room hands covering your chest, as the shoes you were wearing made noise the casting director along with Neymar turned their heads to look at you. “Woman of the hour!”

“Yeah.” You nervously chuckled as you slowly made your way to the edge of the set, despite taking literal baby steps you made it there in a shorter time than you’d like, as you stood there staring straight ahead right past Neymar’s eyes that didn’t leave your body.

“Did you look at the concept photos?” The casting director asked you as you completely zoned out all the background noises, your heart begun to pound as you took in that this was really happening.

“Yeah I did.” You muttered out as you turned your head slowly towards the director awkward smile on your face as you felt Neymar’s gaze being branded onto your skin.

“Well we’re scrapping that one, this is what the first pose will be.” The casting director handed you a photo face down already making you suspicious, when you flipped the photo your eyes nearly flew out of your sockets.

“What the fuck is this!” You whispered shouted in disbelief as to what you were seeing, not only were you going to be literally topless, Neymar’s head was going to be resting: on your breasts.

You hadn’t even noticed that his hands were going to be resting on your ass. “We are not filming a porno! You’ve gotta change this now.”

“This is what is going to sell. It sold back then it’ll sell now. Come one darling, just this once. For me.” He pleaded with you grabbing you by your shoulders.

“No! Not unless you pay me millions! Even if you can You’re gonna owe me. Big time. largely.” Hearing that the director smiled at you before ushering you onto the set where you stood awkwardly beside Neymar who had a stupid smirk on his face. “Alright places everyone.”

Once you heard that you grit your teeth and furrowed your eyebrows as you eased onto the floor of the set, you hesitated before crawling into Neymar’s lap hands hovering just centimetres away from his waist with him doing the same cringing away from your body.

Just before the photographer begun to take photos the director begun to yell once again,“Ugh no no no! Hands on her waist, hands on his waist, look seductive, look like you want to fuck each other!”

You grew goosebumps just hearing that as you muttered under your breath “ew”, you rolled yo ur eyes looking away from Neymar’s annoyed gaze, “This is an underwear company! you’re advertising underwear! hands off your sides and pose!”

“Don’t think I’m enjoying touching your repulsive body, I’m doing this because I have too.” He muttered under his breath emphasizing the “repulsive” making your skin crawl.

“Your breath stinks.” You replied pinching him in his side as hard as you could, seeing him wince in pain gave you a weird boost of satisfaction, as you both bickered with the occasional pinch coming his way you both tuned our the director till he yelled.

“I’m not paying you both millions to look like constipated scorpions! Positions! Now!” He yelled out using the paper in his hand to fan his forehead which was sweating quite heavily, hearing him be so angry out of nowhere frightened you enough to relax just enough to look natural.

Once you both had relaxed easing into each other the rest of the set had gone smoothly with minimal arguing from both of your sides; especially your side since you were quite literally topless. “Wonderful Job guys! Your cheque’s will be emailed to you shortly.”

Once the set was clearing out you stood there waiting for your robe to be handed to you as you shivered, the studio was a lot colder than you had realized. As you were standing around you noticed Neymar hadn’t left quite yet & he was looking a bit red.

“Ew, Are you blushing? I know I have great boobs, but no need to get embarrassed y’know? I’m sure your girlfriend—”

“My God, Will you just shut up?” Neymar shouted at you as he begun to scratch his skin, little blotches of red begun to show on his skin— not that you’d notice them of course.

“Shut up? Did you just tell me to shut up? Do you want me to rip your jaw off? Or did you forget who you were talking too? You turned your body to face him as you looked him up & down with disgust & annoyance in your eyes.

As you were cussing him out you didn’t even notice he hadn’t given you a snarky response back or just pushed pasted you like he always did confusing you, as you took a closer look at him you noticed he was developing a skin rash; hives.

“What the fuck? What type of rash are you developing?” You asked as you backed away wrapping your robe around your body tightly, watching him scratch his body frantically grossed you out enough to just leave the set & go back to your change-room.

Just before you were able to set foot into your room you heard a loud boom, along with a shriek alarming you greatly. As you rushed towards the noise you were met with Neymar breathing heavily on the floor with his assistant all over him trying to find out what was wrong.

A crowd gathered around him as some people were calling the ambulance while others were helping in anyway they could, as you stood there looking at him try to take in a breath you spun your heels turning back to your room.

“What the absolute fuck is going on?” You muttered out backing away from the crowd as you slipped back into your change-room slamming the door before locking it, you slid down the door trying to figure out why that was happening.

As you wondered it had finally hit you, recently you were gifted a body-care set that was based upon real strawberries giving you a long lasting strawberry scent all day— the only problem? Neymar was severely allergic to them.

TAGLIST: @watersquirtpewpewboomm @neymaruposts @aniya7 @foolsarehome @abluvions 💕 (send a reply to be added to the taglist!)

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