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Pairing: Neteyam x reader
PART ONE PART TWO PART FOUR
Summary: Neteyam comes back for you bearing gifts. He then asks you to come outside with him so he can show you around as a guide. You two end up in a clearing and can’t keep your hands off each other. Then you get interrupted…
Warnings: Thigh riding, mention of dick, dirty talk, use of good girl, soft!dom Neteyam which is not OOC
Word Count: 4.0k
A/N: Girl I have no idea what happened, one minute I was going ‘ah Neteyam 🥰” then next thing I knew I was going “ah Neteyam 😏!” I honestly wasn’t planning on writing smut this early but I guess it’s the way it’s gone. IM SO SORRY IF YOU CANT READ NSFW BUT NEXT BIT WON’T BE <3
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this scene got me feeling like a victorian man seeing an ankle 😔😔😔
(i need him to whimper in my ear like a needy bitch)
Ive been thinking about a reader who came into 141 with an american accent but overtime picked up little quirks and accent bits from the other members and they start to notice and tease them about it (like imagine reader picking up and using soaps scottish slang lmaooo)
Summary: The reader picks up different languages and accents throught the years, and the boys are fast to notice and tease you about it.
Platonic!141 X American!reader.
No use of Y/N. Use of gender-neutral pronouns.
Warnings: Swearing.
A/N: I imagine Price's face when he hears you say mate towards him for the first time lmaoooo i loved this idea (So sorry it's so short i know very little about their nacionality or informal words in another languages.)
Imagine the reader noticing Ghost's a little grumpy and they're like
"yer a little crabbit today huh"
soap is already on their side, begging them to repeat.
"Soap fuck off, no"
he secretly likes hearing you say things in a light scottish accent
You then starts using slangs and like 25% of the time only Soap gets it and starts laughing
there was one time you are in a mission, Ghost heard you swear in scottish and since then is calling you "Little Soap" and all variations of it much to your desgrace
"Mini Soap, come take a sip of water will you"
You do not go, and he just laughs more and more
Other times, just for mockery, you start talking with a british accent and using british words
But then you don't and it starts lightly. A "mate" in a phrase, a "she's bonkers" while discreetly pointing to Kate fumbling into papers
until you are full in accent and everything
"they left it in shambles." while organizing a table for you to eat
Gaz asks you if you are trying to catch your captain's attention and you get all embarassed.
"Captain, I think our little soap here is trying to catch your attention, yeah?"
you shake your head quickly to Gaz before Price turns to you and you look back down to your papers.
He just laughs while watching you.
"Shut the fuck up mate"
"AGAIN" Soap laughs and you are certain everyone in the base heard him.
as the time passes, you picks up a little accent there, a little word there and you are teased heavly for it, but you learn to accept it.
Do a part 2 of I’ve got a race to win! PLS it’s so good like give us the smut 😩😩
Ummmmmmmm so no smut(sorry to disappoint) but I don’t write that but heres a part two nonetheless
Also I honestly didn’t expect part one to get so much attention
-Victory-
Xavier Thorpe X Reader
Ummmmmm yeah. Typical relationship problems sequel. Slight angst(maybe, not really) ahead. Happy ending because I can’t write one that isn’t annnnnnd Xaiver’s a little bit of a whiney bitch in this (that boy has some abandonment issues and maybe some other things, depressed ass) This is also kinda shitty because i honestly didn’t know how to expand on part one
——— ———
Oh god you fucked up. How you fucked up, you aren’t quite sure.
After the Poe cup you tried to get back to Xavier, but you just got caught up in everyone. Your team decided to have a mini celebration in your dorm and whenever you tried to leave, someone pulled you back.
You didn’t think too much of it, Xavier was your best friend(? Boyfriend? You don't really know) you could talk to him tomorrow.
But, as it seems, he did not want to talk to you.
You tried, you tried a ton. Every class you had with him you made a point to sit next to him and try to get his attention. You passed notes, made quiet quips to him about the lessons, tried to follow him to classes you didn’t even have.
He was ignoring you. It was very plain to see. Maybe if you had found him immediately after the cup. Maybe if you talked to him more insistently. Maybe if you hadn’t kissed him at all. You could have been misreading the signals, there might not have been any to begin with. And now you have fucked up and you don’t even really know what your fuck up is.
“I don’t see why you can’t just speak with him.” Wednesday says, watching you pathetically lay face down on Enid’s bed. “He’s ignoring them though.” Enid replies, sitting down next to you.
“I don't see why you can’t use force. Or let me drain him of his blood, that would put an end to this exhausting situation and let me have quiet writing time.” She snips out, pushing the keys on her typewriter a bit too forcefully.
“I’m not as intimidating as you. He’d see through any intimidating facade I put on.” You put a mocking tone on intimidating, knowing Xaiver would probably laugh in your face if you tried to be forceful with him.
He didn’t laugh when you were nipping at his neck in the forest
You groan at your thoughts, who even knows if he actually enjoyed that. Could have been faking to stall you. Which, in hindsight, doesn’t really make sense considering all it did was stall him.
A knock on the door breaks you out of your thoughts.
“Why is our room the one everyone decides to congregate in?” Wednesday asks annoyed, getting up to angrily open the door.
You bout upright at Xavier’s voice.
“Wednesday, I really need to talk to you.” He said, not yet noticing you. She groans in response before stalking over to you.
Xaiver looks… honestly as bad as you felt, despite that you can’t help find his undone look incredibly attractive. Even though he looks ready to bolt as soon as he sees you.
Wednesday grabs your hand, forcefully pulling you up and dragging you towards the door.
“I believe you need to speak with them.” She replies by pushing you out the door.
You both stand there silently for a very long time.
You don’t really know what he’s waiting for. You’ve tried talking to him and all he does is push you away. The sigh that comes out of you when you realize he’s waiting for you is quite pitiful if you’re being honest.
You start to walk away, not letting him have the satisfaction of you asking what’s wrong again.
“Wait! Please… we really should talk.” He says after grabbing your arm. He puts on a joking tone, as if you’d laugh after all your dropped jokes from today.
“I don’t see why you want to talk now. After I’ve been trying all day.” You quip back, thoroughly exhausted with him.
“I know… I shouldn't have ignored you. I just… can we not do this in front of Enid’s room where you know she’s listening? Please?” He trails off, placing a pointed stare at the door behind you.
“Fine.” You sigh out, removing your hand from his grip and walking swiftly down the hallway. He catches up with you easily. Damn those long legs.
The walk to your dorm is awkward. So very awkward. The both of you used to be able to fill any silence with banter, gossip, or nothing at all, not caring what filled the silence, just that you were spending time with one another.
Then you went and screwed it all up.
Or he did.
Or you both did.
You honestly don’t know.
When you open the door you both walk quickly in, letting him shut it before leaning back.
“Look, I… I’m sorry for ignoring you. It was uncalled for.” He gets out, he’s never really been good at apologies.
“I don’t care that you were ignoring me, okay I care but I just want to know the reason. What did I do that made you so pissed?” You ask, placing your hands on your hips.
He looks utterly astonished that you don’t know, not taking into consideration that he didn’t tell you.
“Excuse me? You used me! You kissed me when you knew I liked you to win the stupid trophy and didn’t even care enough to spare me a glance after you did.” He answers, which only makes you more confused.
“First of all you kissed me, not the other way around! And secondly, how could I have used your feelings if I didn’t even know you had them! And third of all! I tried to talk to you and you blew me off!” You reply, stalking closer to him.
“How could you not have! I made it so incredibly obvious! Everyone knew! They constantly joked about how whipped I am in front of you!” He says, exasperatedly, running his hands through his hair.
“Well I didn’t! And now you decide to ignore me because I couldn’t get back to you immediately after I won! I wanted to! If that makes you feel better. Except you’re so good at ignoring me and not just fucking communicating like a rational person, that that wouldn’t have mattered! Ya’ know sometimes I think- “ it doesn’t really matter what you think when Xavier pulls you head forward to meet your lips with his.
While this is most certainly not a solution to the problem at hand you can’t deny it’s a very good distraction. Xavier’s hands land on your cheeks, making sure you don’t stray too far from him in your attempts for breath, while yours are clutched at his shirt, just as desperate to keep him close to you.
God, it’s lovely, hot breaths mingled in between long drawn out kisses and Xaivers short groans whenever you decide to nip at his lips.
Reluctantly(very reluctantly) you pull away from him.
“This isn’t exactly communicating.” You whisper out, looking at Xaivers flushed face.
“You’re not getting the message?” He says, trailing one of his hands down to rest on your hip. “I love you, have for longer than I’d like to admit.”
“Thankfully, don’t know what I’d do if I had to go back to pretending that you don’t drive me crazy.” You confess, quivering as his thumb swipes over your lips.
“I might need to make it a little clearer though.” He suggests with a devious glint in his eyes.
“Maybe… “ you breathe out, your eyelids already sliding shut.
Once his lips are on yours for a third time in the past 24 hours, you don’t think you could ever remember when victory tasted as sweet.
Ghost x reader but you never actually met him before. You joined a letters to soldiers program on a whim, figured there would be no harm in it since it got filtered through the charity service- your address would never be shared with the stranger.
You didn't know how to start the first letter really, so you didn't do much at all. You shared your name and a general description of your looks and your life. You asked plenty of questions, so your soldier wouldn't feel the same awkwardness you did. You were definitely projecting some image of a strong but smelly jock who joined the military to goof around instead of take things seriously, so you ended it with a pun.
"If you are near a boat, remember you'll always have a hat. Just flip the boat over-- it'll become capsized!"
Your heart sank as you read his rather curt response letter a few days later. Some asshole with the emo ass sounding callsign of Ghost decided he was too good for you. He made it very clear he wasn't likely to divulge much information about himself, mainly for his own safety. His entire letter was matter of fact and broadly negative, punctuated with a comment that he was only doing these letters because he had been mandated to by an "overbearing mother hen of a captain". He encouraged you to not put too much effort into your letters, in fact he suggested that if you were sincerely seeking conversation to pick up another solider to send letters to.
However, his post script admission that your joke was simultaneously terrible and hilarious, and that he told it to one of his soldiers and it made them groan- which he thanked you for- that made you giggle and start a new letter for him.
He tried to act like writing to you was the bane of his existence, the darkness of his week that loomed over his head like the sword of Damocles. After enough time, you learned to just roll your eyes at his dramatics and keep on writing. He continued to keep his private information away from you but seemed to prove time and time again that he did read (and remembered) what you wrote to him about yourself. Eventually, he began to ask you questions about yourself, showing genuine interest in your life.
It was him who broke the photo boundary- sent you a printed photo after months of letter exchanges. Of a man in a mask holding a rather large looking German Shepherd over his shoulder like a sack of flour. On the back, in the usual neat and pointed writing, "Myself and Riley, ××/××/××××." He didn't reference or acknowledge the photo in the actual letter, so you respectfully didn't comment on it. Despite having a million new questions about the Halloween-looking mask. How was that even tactical?
Speaking of Halloween- that was when you sent a photo in return. Well, two days after Halloween, when your photos were printed. Your friends had taken this one- it was you, asleep on the couch in your fairy costume after the party, wings bent and crooked under your weight. Your cat was cuddled up against your chest, and all in all you figured it'd possibly be an entertaining photo to share. After you sent it out to be mailed though, you started to mentally cringe.
'The first time the guy is seeing you, and you look like you probably passed out drinking! Or worse, did you look like a slut? Did you have a booger? You fucking hate not having digital copies of photos!!'
Your self-prescribed embarrassment was only swayed by the fact that Ghost passed the next boundary- he commented on the photo. Kinda.
"P.S.: That photo... cute."
You kept reading and rereading his words, tracing your fingers over the letters. He didn't seem like the guy to kiss ass, or compliment on reflex. From there, you both sent a photo with every letter.
It was nearing Christmas when you sent him a photo of you next to your Christmas tree, all dressed up with popcorn garlands and twinkling lights. You had an ugly holiday sweater on over sweats and fuzzy socks, a big smile on your face. It felt cute enough. Not that you were trying to impress him or anything.
And good thing you totally weren't, because he sent it back to you with his response letter.
"Can't stand the holidays. Bad times for me, bad memories. I don't want this, sorry." The photo looked like it had been wadded up, then upon second thought was spread back flat with a regretful hand.
You couldn't- didn't want to- imagine what he could be referencing. A man who sees the horrors of war and mankind who can't stand Christmas? Something must have really fucked him, then.
You don't send a photo with the next letter for the first time since you had began. What you wanted to say was too important.
"I'm sorry it's a hard time for you, I'll remember that and be more aware in the future. I don't do much for the holidays myself- if you need anyone to talk to... anyone who isn't some big bad killing machine, that is... call me. Seriously. This is my number. Block your number or something, I don't care. No one should have to deal with things alone. ×××-×××-××××."
Christmas Eve, middle of the night, you get a phone call from an unknown caller. You were dozing off on your couch, holiday specials on the TV before you. You take your time picking it up, your brain not making the possible connection. No greeting comes, and you say hello several times to still no response. Just breathing.
"This you?" Silence. "Ah. Okay, I can work with this." You tell him about your day, your week, the last book you read. You were talking for what felt like ages, the soft sound of breathing being your only feedback. Looking at your phone screen, the call showed at just under 45 minutes. You finally yawned, pausing in your ramblings. "I'm getting sleepy... This might sound dumb but... You mind staying on a while 'til I sleep?"
Still no response. You sigh and cuddle down deeper into the blankets covering you, eyes drooping at another movie rerun. You don't hear the call end, but when you wake up the next day, your phone records showed the call lasted about two hours.
On Irish trains we have train magazines for some reason and I would like to inform u that hozier is on the cover
Summary : You meet someone who caught your attention the first time, and he was all you desired.
But what happens when that desire is taken for granted?
Pairings: Shuntaro Chishiya x Fem!reader
Chapter 1:
Running across the apartment complex sure was a workout. The loud screams of the people getting massacred was enough to give you that adrenaline rush that you needed. Even if you feel your limbs go numb you would not dare give up so quickly. Not sure where to run off to, you let your body naturally guide you to the top of the complex. As you reached the top, you see a figure at the very corner. It was that mysterious guy you saw at the entrance of the complex. His white hoodie stood out to you along with this his light hair peaking out of his hood. Instead of heading to his direction, you felt frozen in place. Your body would not move and all you could do was look at him. He locked eyes with you, startling you in your place. Like a deer in the headlights, good job Y/N. Feeling your heart aggressively palpitating against your chest you couldn’t help but turn around and run. Why did you run away? He’s obviously not the tagger are you stupid? You don’t know why, but those few seconds of eye contact with him gave you an unexplained feeling. Your heart was beating more than it should and you feel your cheeks flushed. What the hell was that?
The round finished quicker than you expected as a few people found the safe room. Leaving the apartment complex you were glad that it was finally over. Your body was in need of a deep rest after all that fiasco. Deep in your thoughts you failed to realize the figure standing in front of you, and you feel your body hit against an object.
“Oh, Sorry I-” you look up and see the same guy with the white hoodie. Your mouth stopped and it was as if your brain just lost all function. He looks at you curiously, wondering how you were going to finish your sentence, but nothing was coming out.
“Be careful next time.” Was all he said as he walked away.
And this was the first time you have met him.
****
The Beach was definitely not something you expected. Literally, you thought it was an actual beach, not a resort with people partying all the time. You had to admit, it was nice seeing everyone enjoying their time. It lets them know that even though it might be their last time here, they should enjoy their days to the fullest.
Walking around the bar you saw people dancing like there’s no tomorrow, people drunk off their asses and makeout sessions happening left and right. Seeing the people around you having fun made you want to get that same satisfaction. You grabbed a bottle of liquor from the counter and started to drink. The burning sensation immediately hit your throat. Taking few extra sips you walked to the dance floor and started to dance. You weren’t the best dancer but who cares? It’s not like anybody here is going to judge you based on how well you could dance. Several minutes go by and you feel the effects of the alcohol hitting you. Instead of continuing to dance you make your way to the pool lounge and jump right into the pool and screamed right before you hit the water. Laughter escaped your lips, particularly for no reason at all. You were definitely tipsy at this point. Swimming around the pool felt therapeutic, it was as if the water was giving you one giant hug that you didn’t want to get out of. Looking up, you see people laying down on their lounge chairs talking amongst each other. Observing everyone in the room, your eyes lock in to a particular person. One that seemed oddly familiar to you. He was leaning against the fence just looking at you, amused. Where have I seen him? Several seconds of eye contact go by and you remember. The guy from the five of spades game. You feel your heart do a somersault, your cheeks flaring up and limbs go numb. The alcohol really is hitting me harder this time then ever before. Breaking the eye contact, you swim to the other side of the pool to get off. When you look back, he was no longer there. Was I hallucinating? I had to be.
When you made it to your room one big jump to your bed was all it took for you to completely knock out.
And maybe, that was the second time that you have seen him.
****
The game was inside an abandoned cafe. A bell chimes when you open the door, grabbing the attention of the man and a woman already inside. In front of you was a table with two phones. Being the third one there, you picked it up to register for the game. Taking a closer look around the inside of the cafe, you noticed the old artworks plastered around the room. Despire the state of condition they are in, you couldn’t help but enjoy some of the work. One in particular that you enjoyed was the skeletal drawing of the face of a deer in black and white. You make your way closer to the painting, studying it.
The bell chimes indicating that the last person has joined the game. You didn’t immediately turn around to see who it was, for whatever reason the artwork was very captivating to you. As the game was about to begin you turn around and see the same man once again. At this point you weren’t sure if its just a coincidence or if you’re going absolutely crazy. He didn’t notice you at first either. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Something in him told him he was being watched and as he looked up his eyes met yours. You quickly averted your eyes to one of the paintings against the wall.
The game screen chimes, indicating that the game is about to begin. There are 4 participants and the difficulty is a three of hearts. Great. The game is called Spyfall. The rule for the game is to figure out who is the spy. The game ends when the spy is captured.
Each person is seated at one of the large tables in the back of the cafe. There is one card faced down in each seat. There is a large distance among the person sitting in front of you and adjacent, to prevent any cheating.
You pick up the card, hoping that you are not the spy. Looking at your card you see that the location is an Amusement park. You try not make it obvious that you aren’t spy, holding in the huge relief that has been carrying on you. If anything, this game specifically is more difficult for the spy because there is less people in the game. Now, since you are obviously not the spy and the there is 4 participants total, meaning that there is at least a 33% chance that one of the other players is the spy. Attentiveness is important in this game, so the responses of the questions being asked are clues to what the role of the player could be.
As everyone was asking each other questions and answering them, it was starting to get a bit difficult to figure out who the spy is. If anything, it seems as if they all are answering the questions unsuspiciously. The time was ticking and it was getting harder to think of other questions.
“You seem a little nervous there aren’t you?” said the woman to you.
“What?”
“Well you keep fidgeting with your fingers and looking down, seems pretty suspicious of you. I mean, why would you be so nervous?”
You weren’t sure how to even respond to that. I mean you obviously know you aren’t the spy you have the card to prove it, but you can’t reveal that as it will give away the answer to the real spy, which is game over for you.
“Cat got your tongue?” she mocked.
“I’m just taken aback with what you said, I mean what’s your proof?”
“You didn’t even answer my question. Why are you nervous?”
“I just naturally am. Is that a problem? I mean im not the spy.” At this point she was annoying the hell out of you and you wanted nothing more then to shut her up.
“Yeah that’s something the spy would say.” she rolled her eyes. “My vote is for her. She’s the spy i know it.”
You were in disbelief. It honestly didn’t even matter if you’re the actual spy or not in this game because if you are voted against then it’s game over for you. The game does not end until the real spy is captured or if the spy is the last one standing.
You looked around to see what the other two men thought. The older man was silent, while the guy in the white hoodie had a smirk on his face, looking pretty amused at the cat fight that seems to have occurred.
“Well, I mean she is right. Your responses were one-worded and you were mostly quiet throughout the entire game. Everyone else here seemed to have talked more than you.” said the older man.
“See, it’s obvious.” barked the woman.
“Im not the spy! How many times do I have to fucking tell you, and even if i do try to explain myself you’re just gonna dismiss my response as a lie.” you yelled. “Ask me more questions then and i will gladly answer whatever you guys throw at me.
The woman gave you a dirty look and the older man looked as if he was thinking of another question to ask you very specifically.
“Ok then, is this place somewhere you would enjoy being at?” asked the older man.
“Absolutely not,” you responded.
He looked at you confused.. “Oh, and why is that?”
“Because I will get sick.” and with that the older man seems to understand.
It gets quiet for a while until another voice begins to speak, “This game could’ve easily ended a while ago.”
“See, everyone believes me!” said the woman.
“Just because someone isn’t responding the way you want them to does not mean that they are the spy. Their responses were very straight forward.” explained the younger man.
The woman is startled, not knowing how to respond to that.
“And based on how you were responding specifically, you were too talkative. You kept trying to explain things when there was no need. It was starting to get annoying. At one point you slipped up on your answer and you didn’t even realize.” he chuckles. “Then you suddenly accuse her of being the spy. Seems like desperation isn’t it?”
You could see the woman’s face getting red, both of anger and embarrassment.
“You were getting desperate that you could not figure out what the exact location is, and in order to save yourself you thought diverting the attention to her would make you appear less suspicious, when in fact it only made you do the opposite.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Was this guy really defending you? You are absolutely grateful for that but it was something you did not expect to come out of his mouth.
The older man seems to agree with what the younger man said as he nods in agreement. “Well I guess that concludes the game.”
You all voted for the woman, and when she reveal her card she was in fact the spy. “I hate you all” was all she said before the laser immediately kills her. You look at the younger man who was now facing you. Feeling your tongue tied you had difficulty thanking the man that defended you, “T-t-thanks.” you said to him.
He gives you a smirk, “I wasn’t really trying to help you if that’s what you were thinking.”
“N-no not at all.” you look down, unsure on what else to say. He gets up to leave the building but you call him out before he could open the door.
“Wait!” you yelled. He looks back at you, locking eyes with you with that same old smirk.
“What’s your name”
“Chishiya.” He turns around and walks out.
And this was the third time you have seen Chishiya, where it all began.
credit to: @namedlunagoddess or bruised_peach on tiktok.
Fernando being your dad’s best friend or something and someday he can’t help but give in to your teasing even though there’s a bit of an age gap and it feels wrong… but he finally decides to fuck you, calling you his good girl🫣 Very unhinged I’m so sorry x
Never apologise, this is the unhinged content I crave!!! -🐝
Also TY for all of the recent Fernando asks!! Glad to see people are just as unhinged about that insane little man as us. Will be writing more Nando content in due course!
Good Luck Charm
Warnings and tags: 18+ obvs, age gap, daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex, Fernando was made to eat pussy fight me, disclaimer I don't speak Spanish and had to use google 😬
Word count: 3,142
The security guard checks your pass, looking you up and down slightly but pasting on a smile and waving you through. To be fair to him you do have an unprecedented level of access for someone who is rocking up to the paddock alone.
Going along to GP's isn't exactly new to you, after all you've been coming to them ever since you were little, and more recently with your dad to support his friend Fernando.
Weaving through the paddock to find Fernando feels like second nature, only having to ask two of the Alpine crew you vaguely recognise where he is before finding him.
Honestly? You've been shamelessly flirting with him whenever your dad wasn't in earshot for a couple of years now. Partly because well, it's Fernando, he's ridiculously hot, but also because it's become almost a game of how far can you push him before he snaps. This time though, this time you're determined to cross that line. It's all or nothing.
"Hi." You announce yourself, peaking from behind the door where Fernando is sat with one headphone in his ear, the other dangling at his chest.
When he looks up at you, the frown on his face quickly turns into a smile and he pulls the other earphone out, standing to greet you.
You meet him halfway, pushing yourself into his open arms to hug him, pressing your body against his as you go up onto your tip toes just so you can fall back down again, sliding yourself against his toned chest.
When you pull apart he raises his eyebrow at you questioningly, but you brush it off, smiling with faux innocence.
He looks over your shoulder, as if checking that it's just you before asking, "Your father?"
"Oh he couldn't make it, I thought he told you it was just me this weekend?"
You're pretty sure you told your dad to tell him that you and a few of your friends were planning to go. All part of the plan to tease Fernando a bit more without anyone to interrupt you.
"Ahhh yes, I remember, you are meant to be bringing friends no?"
"Oops, I forgot to ask them." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him cheekily.
He gives you a knowing look and you raise your eyebrows as a challenge. Instead of chastising you, or falling for the bait he shakes his head.
"No matter. I'm sure you will make friends." He smiles at you like he's in on the game and he's here to play. "I could introduce you to Esteban again."
You can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the thought and Fernando laughs at you, deep and open and you want to grab his stupid face and run your hands through his hair but you pull yourself back to the present.
"Are you ready for quali?" You walk around his room, feeling his eyes on you without looking at him, touching his desk, running your fingers over it before picking up his Kimoa cap.
"Always."
He's waiting for you to make the first move, he's almost daring you to, stood there with his arms crossed.
"Hmm. Maybe you need a good luck charm?"
You put the cap on your head.
"And what do you have in mind hmm?"
"I can think of a few things." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him, trying to get across an innocent suggestiveness that you think might just be working, as he steps closer to you.
"Why did you come here alone?"
"I think you know why." You lean in closer to him.
He doesn't move.
"Cariño, you are making this difficult." He's almost gritting his teeth.
"It doesn't have to be."
"Dios me ayude," Fernando sighs under his breath, and you don't know what he's saying but you can guess you're about to finally FINALLY get what you want. "You know we can't."
He doesn't sound sure though. He doesn't sound sure at all, so you close the space between you.
"Fernando." You breathe out. He slips his hand up to your face and you think he's going to touch you but he just grabs his cap back, flinging it across to the desk again.
You huff out a frustrated noise and he smirks down at you.
"Yes?"
"Please." You're so close you can smell his aftershave and you decide that it doesn't matter anymore, this game, all you need is for him to fuck you. Desperately.
"Please what, little one?"
He slips his hand under your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to look into his eyes. With his thumb, he traces your bottom lip.
"Tell me what you want." He prompts again.
"Please fuck me." You whisper, and he smirks down at you, slipping his thumb inside your warm wet mouth.
Obliging, you wrap your lips around it, rolling your tongue over the pad. He lets you do this a few times, before drawing his thumb back, pulling at your lower lip. He looks at you for a second, before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours.
You practically sigh into the kiss, feeling him move one of his hands up to the back of your head and the other down to grip at your waist, pulling you into him.
Gently, he bites at your lip, slipping his tongue over the cusp of your lip before drawing back. You try to follow him but he moves his other hand down to grip the other side of your waist.
"We should stop this."
"No!" You practically shout, pressing yourself against him, watching as his face lights up with a grin and his grip tighten. You should have known that as soon as you got him to give in, then the game would be flipped. He has you right where he wants you. Although, it very much still feels like you're winning.
"This worked up already? Cariño, look at you, just a kiss and my hands on you and you're already desperate. Maybe you cannot take it." He sighs dramatically, thumbing his hand under your shirt and running his fingers along the bare skin of your hips.
"No I can, I can take it." You assure him. Then, to prove your point, you quickly throw off your top and bra, leaving you standing topless in front of him, his hands still toying with the skin above the waistband of your trousers.
He huffs out a small laugh at your antics, which you only find mildly insulting, and runs his hands over your stomach and up your chest, thumbing your nipples briefly making you squirm.
"What did I say hmm? Desperate." He brushes them again and you let out a small gasp. "Look at you."
"Please. Just... fuck me." You say again.
"Patience." He pinches one of your nipples and you have to squeeze your thighs together. "Go lock the door. Take your trousers off, and come sit." He gestures to the sofa and you feel the heat rising on your face as you comply, quickly locking the door and shuffling out of your trousers.
As you go to take off your underwear he stops you.
"Leave them on."
He guides you until you're sitting down on the sofa, legs spread as he kneels in front of you. Slowly, he runs his hands up you thighs, the touch light and teasing until he reaches the seam of your underwear.
"Did you tease me on purpose?"
"What?" You're struggling to think about anything except his hands on you, so so close to where you want.
"Every time you visited, or I came over and you bent over in front of me or touched my arm or said suggestive things. Was it all on purpose?"
"Yeah." You breathe out, and he grips your inner thigh a little harder. "It was."
"Okay." It's said so flippantly but you can’t help but think that something’s coming, some sort of reprimand or punishment for your behaviour but right now all you want is his fingers on you.
"Okay, I want you to come at least twice before I'll think about fucking you. You can be a good girl, no? I think thats fair."
He moves in before you have a chance to reply and nips at the skin of your thigh with his teeth making you gasp. He makes his way up the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching against your sensitive skin and you can't help but squirm, pushing your hips up to try and get more contact. In response, he just presses his hands down on your hips, steadying you.
When he gets between your legs he stops.
"Fernando." You whine at him. "Come onnnn."
He huffs out a laugh at your antics, moving his hand down to brush lightly over the fabric of your underwear, causing your whine to become a gasp.
Pressing a little harder, he watches as the fabric dampens underneath his touch, smiling as you moan for him. Still holding you down with one hand, he starts to play with you, running his fingers over the dampening fabric, dragging it against your clit as he presses down.
"Look at how wet you are for me. Such a good girl." He pushes the fabric into you slightly, the rough feeling making you moan this time, a choked needy little noise.
"Can I..." You start but you get cut off by a circle of your clit.
"Hmm?" He says innocently, as if he isn't playing with your covered pussy like you're a little toy to amuse him.
"Can I take them off?"
"No."
He continues as you huff out a frustrated whine, needing his fingers inside you desperately.
"They're staying on until you come in them. I want to see you ruin them."
With that he doubles down, leaning in to mouth at your pussy over the fabric, the warmth and drag of the fabric nearly making you scream out. You can feel it building up, your legs tensing slightly as he holds you there so he can have his fun.
"Please..." You ask, desperately needing just a bit more pressure.
"Please what?"
"Please daddy." You respond. It slips out of you with ease, seeming almost natural and it takes you a second to notice he's raised his eyebrows at you, clearly not expecting that from you.
You feel your face flush and start to turn red as you mumble out a 'sorry'.
"No, I like it." Is all that Fernando says, gaze darkening. "Be a good girl and come for me then."
With that he sucks at your clit over the fabric and presses them into you a little as you finally feel yourself come, wrapping your legs around his head as he rides it out with you.
"Thats my good girl." He grins at you. "Ruining your pretty underwear for me."
He peels them off and you lift your hips for him so he can pull them down.
He looks at them thoughtfully, then up at your mouth, before shaking his head and throwing them aside, almost as if he was contemplating gagging you with them.
The thought makes you almost ready to go again.
"Look at you spread out and dripping for me."
He spreads your legs with his hands and runs his thumb over your dripping pussy, but avoiding your oversensitive clit.
"I need you to fuck me." You huff out.
"Ahh but you have to come again before that, no? Or did you forget."
You groan at his smirking face, throwing your head back. It doesn't last long though, as Fernando slips two fingers straight inside of you, hooking them upwards as you clench around him and let out a high pitched little noise at the feeling.
Without warning he puts his mouth directly on your clit, rolling his tongue over it as he keeps his fingers still, feeling you tighten around him as you moan and whine.
You can't help but thread your hands through his hair, pulling on him tightly as you press his head into you.
It's almost too much, you're too sensitive.
"The noises you make." He says in wonder, pulling away to look up at you. "I bet boys your age don't know what to do with you, no? You need me to fuck you properly?"
You can feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He's right, no one has ever been like this. Sure, you've had sex before but no one has ever played with you like this, with such focus and skill to make you come so fast. No one has ever made you come multiple times.
His fingers are still in you, slowly fucking in and out of you now, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like when he finally fucks you properly.
"Ye... yes." You manage to choke out, losing your grip on the ability to talk, your mind solely focused on the drag of his fingers in you and the pressure of his thumb against your clit.
"You're dripping onto the sofa Cariño, look at the mess you make." He punctuates it with a particularly fast thrust of his fingers, making you tighten and whine at him.
He speeds up, watching his fingers disappear into your wet little pussy for a moment before nipping at your thigh slightly and then running his tongue over you, up around his fingers and pressing against your clit.
You thrust your hips up and he lets you move against him, his fingers fucking into you fast and hard as you grind yourself against his face. You don't give him any warning this time, the feeling building suddenly. You tighten your thighs around him as well as the grip in his hair as you come again around his fingers.
"Fuck." You sigh as you come down, his fingers still toying with you gently before pulling out and wiping your own wetness on your thigh, the sight making you scrunch up your nose.
"So good for me." Fernando mumbles and you feel yourself blush at his words. "Do you think you can take me now?"
"Yeah, I can daddy."
"Good girl."
Before you can even begin to recover, Fernando has stripped out of his clothes and moves you until you're straddling him, his hard cock resting between you.
You get the idea, raising yourself up so you’re positioned over him and he pulls you in for a kiss as he guides his cock along the wetness of your pussy.
Slowly, you lower yourself down, feeling him stretch you out as you gasp into his mouth. He lets you take your time, biting at your lower lip as he also groans at the feeling of your hot wet cunt.
Grabbing your hips, he experimentally pushes you down a little and you whine, looking him in the eyes as he raises his eyebrow at you in a silent question.
You think you know exactly what he's asking so you nod your permission. He smiles, but more gently this time, grabbing your hips tighter and pushing you down faster than you'd been moving.
It feels so full when you finally take all of him inside of you, letting yourself adjust to the sensation as you sigh into his neck, running your teeth gently over the skin and mouthing gentle bites.
He palms at your ass, moving you in small rocking motions against him until you feel like you can move again, slowly picking up speed until you're practically bouncing on his cock, watching him close his eyes and groan at the feeling.
It gives you a little more confidence as you speed up, placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself.
One of his hands moves to thumb at your clit and you momentarily stutter in your pace, clenching around him as he tightens his grip on your hip in response.
It's almost too much, you're too sensitive from before and the feeling of him filling you up is like nothing you've ever experienced. You can feel your legs starting to shake and will yourself not to stop.
Fernando must notice though, as without any warning he picks you up, cock still buried deep inside of you, and lays you flat on the sofa, moving your legs so that they're resting on his shoulders, practically bending you in half for him.
"You're so tight mi amor."
You can’t even form the words to reply, too focused on the feeling of him fucking into you, controlling the pace as he slips a hand down to brush over your nipples, pinching them slightly before moving down to play with your clit.
It's so overwhelming that you can’t help the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Fernando is saying something, maybe in Spanish, maybe he's calling you his good girl again, you're not quite sure, all you know is that every time he circles your clit and thrusts into you you're dangerously close to losing it again.
You don't want it to end yet, it's Fernando, you've wanted this for ages and now you finally have it and you don't want to give him up.
It's no use though, he thrusts into you a little deeper and thumbs at you a little harder and you're gone, crying out his name as you come around his cock. The way you clench down around him sets him off as well, and before you know it you can feel him coming inside of you, filling up your pussy so much that when he pulls out you can feel it start to drip out of you.
He gently sits back down laying your legs out gently over him as he rests a hand on your inner thigh and runs his fingers over you gently.
"You were so good for me y/n. Look at you laid there, perfect for me." He slips his hand between your legs and gently gathers some of the come dripping out of you and fucks it into you a little bit making you squirm.
"Fernando." You breath out. "I cannot come again. I just can't."
He huffs out a laugh.
"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, fucking his fingers in again, just the tip but enough to make you gasp. "I just cant help it. You look so pretty filled up for me."
"I can't believe we just did that." You say it mostly to yourself, but Fernando laughs again, this time a little more incredulously.
"If I get pole after this, if you're my good luck charm, we might have to do it every weekend."
You know it’s a joke but still, you can't help but fantasise about being his little good luck charm all the way up to a third world championship.
Summary: You'd been looking for some time alone when you'd gone to the shooting range at nearly midnight. König clearly had the same idea.
Requested by Anon: #47 I forget how to speak whenever you're around and it's embarrassing.
A/N: Honestly, this felt sooo trash. My apologies anon, König was difficult to write here.
Categories: Hurt/Comfort || Fluff || Mutual Pining
Warnings: Mild Swearing
The night air was crisp, your breath leaving small clouds of white to trail behind you. You adjusted the strap of the weapon slung across your shoulder and shivered. Next time you’d have to dress warmer if you wanted to take a late night stroll, but you knew full well you’d make the same mistake.
As KorTac’s resident marksman, the firing range was almost like your second home. Your sniper rifle was an extension of your limbs and this place gave you the opportunity to exercise it. It would be worth the walk and worth the cold.
You glanced at your watch as you entered the facility. It was 2300 hours, no one in their right mind would be at the range this late on a Friday night. You’d have the floor to yourself, blowing off steam with unlimited ammunition into the early hours of the morning: the perfect way to start off the weekend.
As you entered the doors and rounded the corner, your breath left you in a gasp and you stumbled backward.
“König!”
The giant came to a screeching halt in an attempt to not bowl you over, his eyes wide as he appraised you. He held a sniper rifle in his right hand, the weapon looking like a Nerf gun in comparison to the sheer size of him. Your heart thrashed wildly in your chest at the scare of unexpected company.
“Jesus,” you rasped, a small laugh slipping from you lips. “What’re you doing here so late?”
There was a short pause as the man gathered his bearings, the both of you thrown off by each other’s presence. “Probably the same as you.”
You nodded your head with a small shrug. You should have guessed that König wouldn’t be at the club with the rest of the team. He was the resident introvert, maniacal on the battlefield but withdrawn in the barracks.
König was an enigma.
It’s what drew you to him like a moth to a flame. Although, the man avoided you where he could. You guessed he wasn’t as curious about you as you were about him.
“Is this why you’re better than most with a sniper?” You nodded towards his rifle but his eyes remained glued on you. “You shoot at midnight?”
It was mean to be a joke but there was some truth to your question. König was one of the better snipers in KorTac, as though he were born with a natural talent for the role. You wondered if he’d ever consider pushing for a change in positions.
“Better than most,” he agreed quietly with a shrug, but then his eyes sparkled with amusement. “However, I shoot at midnight to be better than you.”
Your heart stuttered at the words. You knew he was joking, or at least attempting to break the ice, but it always felt good to hear words of affirmation. Snipers were very much out of sight and out of mind until you needed them and you’d rarely received compliments on your work outside of training.
“Well,” you breathed, shifting the weight of the rifle on your back. It was cold but suddenly there was warmth blooming along your neck as König watched you intently. “Now I wanna see if you’re going to put me out of a job.”
König’s eyes widened and you saw him hesitate.
“You,” he cleared his throat, “you want to watch me shoot?”
You offered him a small smile in response, it was cheeky but not enough to alarm him. The last thing you wanted was to make a 6’10 mountain of a man think that you were here to laugh at him
You knew that König was a good shot, though you also knew he was not on the same playing field as you. Something told you he needed a win, though. If watching him shoot and complimenting his ability would give him something warm on such a frigid day, then it would be the least you could do.
After all, you don’t go to the range at midnight on a Friday night unless you’re lonely.
“Actually,” König began, suddenly shifting on his feet uneasily. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”
You nodded your head, indicating for the man to continue. Silence swept into the conversation as König’s gaze flickered from your rifle to the floor, his hands moving to rest behind his back. You could tell his fingers were fidgeting even though he’d hid them from your view.
Finally, he spoke. “I wanted to ask for your help, I’m having trouble adjusting this rifle.”
Your mouth fell open and you blinked at him dumbly.
The giant blinked back.
“Yes!” You said with a start, realizing he was waiting for your response. “Of course- yeah. Lay down and set her up as best you can while I go offload my shit.”
König let loose a breath, his shoulders relaxing from where they’d been bunched. The sniper’s hood that he wore should have made him difficult to read, but his body language was beyond expressive.
When you returned from laying your shit down in the next aisle, König was on his stomach and those long legs were stretched out to full length. Again, you marvelled at the size of him.
He was peering down the sight of his rifle, a frustrated sigh deflating his chest as you looked down on him. You could see what was wrong with his positioning, then the actual rifle would be an entirely different beast to tackle.
“König,” you brought his attention back to you as your eyes skimmed over his body, watching for any flaws you may have missed. When you looked back at him, the man was watching you from above his shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of that emerald gaze, the determination to find out how to better himself.
You let loose a breath.
“Can I fix your position for you?” The question was soft but König’s hand flexed against his weapon anyway.
“Of course.”
You started with his legs, grabbing the inside of his right knee to push it upward. He helped you tucking it up so that it sat parallel to his body.
“It absorbs the recoil without shifting your line of fire,” you explained, and you saw his head nod from above the contour of his back. You stood over him, your feet planted on either side of his waist in an attempt to see the angle his body lay on.
Finally, you made your way to his arms, lowering yourself beside him. That green gaze flickered towards you, taking in your bent over form and settling on where you rested on both your knees.
He looked away as his breath hitched.
“Pick your elbows up,” you murmured, leaning over him as he lifted his arms. You tucked them a bit closer to where he had them initially, your chest brushing against the back of his head as you moved. His biceps were hard beneath your fingers and you swallowed thickly. “Now lean into them outward so the skin of your elbows is stretched.”
Again, the man obeyed.
“See how everything feels so much tighter?” You asked, leaning back onto your knees with your hands on the floor behind you.
König groaned at the sight.
You frowned.
“Is…” you cleared your throat, sitting straight. “Is it not good? I can adjust it if –“
“It’s fine,” König said quickly, his voice strained.
Your heart sunk at the urgency in his words, as though he were impatient. You thought that this was what he wanted, he had asked for your help.
“Well,” you rubbed the back of your neck with a sigh. “Give it a shot then, big guy.”
Big guy.
König missed the target.
You gawked at the small screen bolted to the floor between your bodies. When your eyes flicked over to the man lying next to you, he closed his eyes with a sigh.
“Try again,” you tried to keep your voice neutral but to miss the target entirely was a pretty big feat. Especially for someone like König who, usually, was an excellent shot.
This time, the bullet had barely caught the edge of the cardboard. The screen emitted a small beep, informing you both that he’d missed the centre aiming mark by 2,876 millimetres.
If that was a person, he’d have taken some fabric off of his shirt sleeve.
König sat up suddenly, a low growl reverberating in his chest. “Sheiße!”
“Is it the rifle?” You questioned as he rested his back against the isle wall, dropping his hands against his knees. His head fell rearward, gaze moving to the ceiling and for a second there he looked truly hopeless.
You didn’t receive a response.
“If it’s the positioning then-“
König’s head snapped upright, his eyes settling on you with an expression you’d never seen on him. You felt like you were burning.
“It’s you,” he said simply.
Your mouth dried.
“Oh.”
You stood to your feet without another word. Your chest felt heavy, and your skin stung as though the words had been a whip bearing down on your body. Embarrassment flooded your cheeks as a cold chill trickled down your spine.
You hadn’t realized how cold it was in that room.
Before you could walk from the aisle, König was on his feet. He stood before you, hands raised as though attempting to placate your or surrender. He was careful not to touch you, but the way he leaned in made you think that he wanted to.
“Not,” he stumbled over the words, they were desperate and choked. “Not like that. Never like that.”
You stared at him incredulously.
“Don’t leave,” König murmured, stepping into your space. Your head was craned so that you could see him, though eventually you gave up and tossed your gaze to the side. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What did you mean, then?” Your voice was hard, and you heard him suck in a breath. “You ask me to help you then don’t talk to me when I do.”
After a pregnant pause, a hand came to rest against your upper arm and you forced yourself to stay still. When a finger tucked itself beneath your chin, forcing your eyes upward, your knees trembled dangerously beneath you.
“I’m not ignoring you, I swear it.” König’s words fell from his lips in a tumble, that emerald gaze intent, “I just forget how to speak whenever you’re around and it’s embarrassing.”
Your jaw would have fallen open had it not been for his fingers holding it.
The silence was heavy as his words settled and you couldn’t think of a single thing to respond to him with. How were you meant to tell him that you felt the same way? How were you meant to express the effect that he had on you without sounding like a child?
Eventually, his fingers slipped from your skin and a chill fell over your body at his absence.
König took a step back, his body rigid.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, his shoulders squared, and his eyes cast downward. “That was inappropriate, I shouldn’t have- “
“Don’t apologize,” your voice was barely a whisper, but the words echoed like a gunshot in the space between you. “Don’t you dare take that back.”
König watched you carefully from beneath the hood.
You decided, as his fingers slowly returned to your skin, that tonight you’d be under that hood with him.