#I really can’t express …💗

[xsammei-her-belovedberyl]

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

🌸 !!CHAPTER THREE POSTED!! 🌸

Title: Four Walls

Tags: slow burn, domesticity, friends to lovers, smut, pining post sias/pre am era

Summary: Disillusioned with LA and on the heels of a breakup, Alex goes to stay with Miles in London.

[verstappen-cult]

Mad Max (angry kind of frustrated max verstappen) like barging through the paddock mad - when he sees her (reader) his anger falls and he gets teary and turns into clingy breakdown maxie

… just a cutesy idea i had

thx byeee💗💗

Max is having an awful weekend. The car is shit, and everyone is asking him why he didn’t participate in the run for Senna that Seb organized, and he is just so tired of repeating the same thing over and over again because, apparently, everyone wants to hate on him this weekend.

He just finished with an interview, very abruptly after the reporter acted unprofessional. He really doesn’t care that everyone is going to be talking about that for the rest of the weekend too.

“Max,” His PR officer says, touching his shoulder to make him stop walking. “the reporter wants to talk.”

Max scoffs, rolling his eyes. “About what? If he isn’t going to apologize, then I don’t have anything to say.” He walks away when from the corner of his eye sees a few reporters and cameras pointing his way. Max knows that he should apologize to her later, for leaving like that, but now he just wants to get the fuck out of the paddock and hope for the best for qualifying tomorrow.

He’s walking fast, very fast, avoiding eye contact and every fan that tries to make their way towards him. He doesn’t care about being disrespectful now, they need to respect him and his time too.

But then someone is grabbing him by his arm and he just can’t take it anymore. Max turns around, only to find his favorite person looking at him with a worried expression on her face.

“Maxie?” You ask, leaning a little closer and cupping his cheek. “Gemma told me what happened, you want to talk about it?”

And suddenly he is at a loss of words, the urge to cry making it hard to think straight.

Max can only shake his head, eyes filling with tears in just a couple of seconds. And, knowing him like the palm of your hand, you see right through him.

“You want to leave? Back to the hotel?”

Max nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I just need,” He bites his lower lip, noticing a few people around that can’t stop looking at you two. “to grab a few things from my drivers room.”

You hold his hand, squeezing slightly. “We can ask Gemma to do that.”

Max feels relieved because he really doesn’t have the strength to stay a second longer in this place.

The car is already waiting for you when you walk out of the paddock. You let Max get in first before climbing inside and sitting by his side.

No one says anything for the first half of the way, but then Max is turning around and looking at you with a pout on his lips. And you can only open your arms.

Max rests his head on your lap for the rest of the way, your fingers massaging his scalp as you patiently wait for him to start talking.

“I’m having a bad weekend.” He says after what feels like hours. “I don’t want to think. I just want to sleep.”

“You can sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” You lean down to place a kiss on the top of his head. “You need to rest.”

Max sniffs, “Would you hold me? Please?”

“I’m never letting you go.”

[thediaryofaurora]

ticci toby nsfw headcanons 😭🤲 can’t express how much i love your hc’s bro its so good 🥹💗 pls keep cooking

☆Ticci Toby Relationship HCs☆

CW: NSFW, f!reader

THANK YOU SO MUCH! This ask single-handedly brought me out of my writing slump. I went ahead and added SFW dating HCs as well, a little bonus 🙌 Also I’m in a leg brace from soccer so I’m stuck in bed.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

★SFW★

- This guy has got a LOT on his mental plate, be prepared for that.

- He is 100% a friends to lovers type of guy. He’s not easily trusting, so that relationship really has to be built up.

- When he does have a crush on someone he beats himself up about it because he feels so stupid for thinking you’d ever like him back.

- Moving onto actually dating him, he is so so so insecure. Lots of reassurance is needed, but if you’re able to get through to him he eventually realizes you actually like him.

- Crazy touch starved. In the first few months of dating he’s super unsure of if he can kiss you or even put his arm around you, he’s HORRIFIED of crossing any boundaries and you leaving. You’ll probably have to make the first move.

- He most likely won’t be the one to ask you out. If you’ve known eachother for a while and he’s feeling a little confident there’s a possibility, but in his mind he’d rather stay friends and get to see you rather than get rejected and you not talk to him anymore.

- LOVES going on dates with you, but he’s a ball of anxiety. It should be easy to cool him down and let him know you’re enjoying it, he’s just so worried about if you’re happy or not.

- Usually thinks going on walks or sitting on a curb together is like the perfect date, ESPECIALLY in the fall. He keeps an old camera on him that he got from Brian so he can make little home videos and capture the moments you spend together.

- Picks up cool leaves, glass shards, or other things left in the forest and makes sure to show you.

- He’s actually not an awful cook. He’s a fast learner in pretty much every aspect and he already knows the basics. His mom taught him when he was young how to make some baseline German dishes, and this man can WHIP that shit up.

- Once you two are to the point in your relationship where you can cuddle, he is ALL OVER YOU. Especially when it’s raining/ thundering out and you two can lay in bed together. Since he overheats easily due to his CIPA, in the colder seasons you’ll have to leave the window open so he can stay cool.

- After seeing how his dad treated his mom, he has a pretty good grasp on how to treat a partner. At times he can fly off the handle, especially with his bipolar disorder, but afterwards he breaks down and apologizes. If at any point you even SEEM like you don’t like him anymore he gets defensive, it makes him very standoffish or snappy.

- Won’t shut up about you after you start dating. Not in a rambling way, but he finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. He doesn’t meant to, but how could he go without telling someone you’d like the flower he just walked by?

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

✩NSFW✩

- VIRRRRGINNNNNNNN.

- I mean VIRGIN virgin, like this guy has had NO activity. No first kiss either. All the knowledge he has is from porn, so he’s completely clueless. If you’re both inexperienced you’ll just have to persevere.

- He’s the kind of person to get turned on looking at a picture of you fully clothed, he’s just so in love with you.

- Before you two start dating he’s 100% taking candid pictures of you or finding your instagram posts and jacking off to them.

- Massive bottom. He puts out a front for a WHILE before you’ll be able to realize he’s not a top, he doesn’t want to look like a sissy. If you suggest being on top he’s BLOWN AWAY. Acts like he’s just doing whatever you want, but afterwards you definitely realize he’s been waiting for it.

- Sensitive as hell. He’s a loud one, but again he doesn’t want to look weak or not masculine enough. He tries to hold his moans and whimpers back and grunt instead, but if you do it just right he’s a whimpering, whining, PANTING, mess. Kiss his neck? He’s rock hard. Even if you’re just giving him a hickey he’s whimpering and bucking his hips into you.

- Tits man 100%. Doesn’t matter what size, the fact that they’re there is enough. When you’re on top of him he prefers for you to face him so he can watch them bounce. When he’s on top he’s usually in missionary so he can still see them.

- Hair pulling kink, specifically his. He can’t feel the pain, but the yank drives him CRAZY.

- Big on oral. Giving or receiving, he doesn’t care. If he’s giving he prefers for you to sit on his face, but he’d never admit that.

- His favorite place to do it is tight spaces. Closets, cars, narrow alleyways. Especially if it adds to the thrill of getting caught.

- STAMINA. He cums crazy fast, but he’s definitely able to make up for it with how many rounds he can go. Even if he came a few minutes ago, it’s already up and ready to go again.

- Likes to have music playing in the back while you do it. He probably already made a playlist the second you started dating, but if you ever want to choose the music he doesn’t mind.

- At first he’s self conscious about his abilities, but after some time and seeing how good you feel he’s a cocky motherfucker. Slyly grinning and looking at you all worn out after a few rounds boosts his ego to the moon.

- Dim lighting all the way. He wants to be able to see you, but he feels too exposed when it’s too bright.

- Not completely opposed to a threesome, it depends on who it is. He’s more protective than possessive, so if he trusts the person enough he’d be okay with it. If it had to be anyone in the mansion it would probably be Cody or Liu, but he’d make sure you’re okay with it.

- Rabid horny teenager.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

[luveline]

i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗

Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 

You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 

You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 

Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 

He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 

When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 

He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 

You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 

“Do you know his name?” he asks. 

“No.” 

He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 

“What happened?” 

“I told him no.” 

His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 

You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 

“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 

Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 

“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 

“I think I want to quit.” 

He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 

“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 

“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 

“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 

“You don’t really think that.”

Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 

“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 

“You can say strip.”

He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 

You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 

“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 

If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 

You can’t begrudge him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 

You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 

Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 

“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 

[celesteleoves]

Can I req Kirishima being insecure and afraid to show his s/o his dorm room after Hagakure said “If I found out my boyfriend had a room like this, I’d dump him.”

“OH, LET THE LIGHT IN.”

ೃ࿐ kirishima eijirou x reader

summary: after a comment hagakure makes about your boyfriends room, he avoids letting you in to see it.

warnings: tinyyyy bit of angst but fluff otherwise! set during a sunset/ he afternoon. it’s kinda short.. AND NOT PROOFREAD!!

-

“if i found out my boyfriend had a room like this, i’d dump him.”

kirishima ran a hand over his face, feeling insecure about the design of his dorm room.

he currently sat on his bed, hands resting on his knees and covering his face. kirishima was never one to be embarrassed about his so called “manliness.”

yet, as soon as his classmate made a comment about it and how he decorated his room to display it: he hasn’t wanted to let anyone into his room. not even his own girlfriend.

you unfortunately weren’t there the day hagakure and many others made a comment about his room. so, you haven’t seen it just yet but you have been constantly asking him about it.

he’s seen yours. you want to be able to see his to get a feel of his life. everyone’s dorm matched them perfectly and represented them in a way. you felt your boyfriends dorm would be the same way.

he wouldn’t budge, completely ignoring you when you asked.

kirishima sighed and picked up his phone, reading your text.

‘i’m coming over! can’t wait to see you (and your dorm). 💗’

you were too good for him, he thought.

“shit.” kirishima spoke, beginning to sweat about your opinion on his room. hagakure really got to him.

knock, knock, knock.

he jumped, wiping his hands on his pants and anxiously standing up to open the door for you.

the door swung open and you beamed at the sight of your boyfriend but not before he hurriedly pushed you away and slammed his door shut, now standing outside of his dorm.

“uh, what’s up?” you tilted your head as he leaned back against his door, blocking you from going in.

“i think we should hang in your dorm. it’s much more comfy than mine!” kirishima awkwardly laughed while you frowned.

“babe, let me in. i haven’t even got to see your dorm and the rest of the girls have?!” you said, regretting your words after your boyfriend reacted to them.

kirishima frowned deeply, he felt so weak and embarrassed right now. “i just- i don’t think you’ll like it.”

“what? i like everything of yours, eijirou. don’t think like that.” you smiled at him and motioned for him to open the door.

his composure dropped as he succumbed to your words.

“just-” he sighed, “don’t be mean, please.”

you gave him a soft smile and nodded excitedly.

he opened the door with his head down, not wanting to see your weirded out expression that a lot of the other girls wore when he showcased his room.

you instead squealed, rushing in and immediately went towards his punching bag.

“how long did it take for you to install this?” you grinned as you pushed it around, turning to look at your boyfriend who stared at you in shock.

he would’ve thought you’d make fun of his room and his choice of decor but instead you were admiring it…

“i- what?!” he exclaimed, not expecting you to ask him that. he had expected you to insult him.

“i said, how long did it take for you to install this?”

“an hour or so.”

“you’re so strong. i love how your room fits you perfectly.” you complimented, moving to sit on his bed comfortably.

kirishima blushed, your compliments making him smile a toothy grin.

he moved to lay sit next to you. suddenly, he wasn’t so anxious anymore.

you fiddled with his sheets and began getting comfortable in his bed, not noticing your boyfriend gazing at you. you turned to him, making eye contact.

“what?” you quietly laughed, admiring the boy infront of you.

“some of our classmates made comments about my room, that’s why i didn’t want you seein’ it.”

“i love your room and everything about you. ignore them. shoto and you are the only ones with nice rooms but in my opinion, yours is better!” you grinned, moving to place your head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around you.

“i knew it!” you felt him laugh, his words making you grin against his chest.

there really was no reason for him to dislike his room, it was the best dorm room out of all your classmates. it had one thing all of them didn’t.

it had the ability to make you feel at home.

-

a/n: whoever requested this, ily. please send in more. this is so pure and i hope i wrote this to your liking!

SEND REQUESTS! 🤍

[beneathashadytree]

A TASTE OF HONEY - SYLUS QIN X READER

Warnings : insecurities & body image issues, chubby & curvy!reader, mentions of stretch marks, body worship, praise kink, marking, very mild breast & nipple play, implied cunnilingus, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : smut n loooots of comfort☹️🫶🏽

Word count : 1.4K words

Additional notes : This was a paid commission I made of a lovely OC with Sylus, and this version is just the slightly more non-specific version I took permission from my commissioner to post, so that all fem!readers can see what my commissions are like! If you’re interested let me know💗

Commissions are open here!

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Masterlist

“Another event, another dress with your name on it, sweetie.” Sylus’ grin as he walked into their bedroom would’ve almost been infectious, had her mood been entirely different than it currently was. Right now, though? His words seemed to have cast a curse onto her.

She had to fight against her growing irritation. It’s not his fault, he didn’t do anything to deserve it—unlike the majority of the times he’d earned her ire. This time, the dismayed feeling in her chest at the sight of the exquisite dress draped onto the back of the dresser’s chair was entirely because of her own racing thoughts.

“Skipping out tonight,” she simply mumbled under her breath, collapsing onto the bed with weary bones and an exhausted expression like she’d run a hundred miles. And she really had, just inside her head.

Sylus—ever perceptive Sylus—frowned at that, taking a seat at the edge of the bed beside her. “Tired?” Concern filled his eyes, and it only grew worse as she seemed to curl in on herself and burrow deeper into the mattress. “I could cancel.”

With a sigh, she shook her head “You’re Onychinus’ leader. You have to be there. My moods shouldn’t dictate whether or not you go.”

“You have the privilege of commanding me to do whatever you want. I say you abuse that right.” It was clear from his teasing tone that he was trying to get a lighthearted reaction from her, and upon receiving none, his voice turned softer. “Seriously, what’s wrong, darling?”

Her grip tightened on the bedsheet, blinking back the tears as she trained her gaze on her fingers. “I just… don’t want to wear that dress.”

Sylus was silent for a few moments, before he nodded. “Okay. Is it not to your liking?”

“Not really.” With a shuddering breath, she sniffled a little, trying to calm herself down as Sylus’ hand gently stroked her calves in a soothing motion. There was no point in getting so worked up after all, it’s always been the same. “Those types of dresses always show my stretch marks. They’re… kind of short. And tight. And weird-looking on me.”

Screw not getting worked up; her tears were dripping down her face at this point, her vision blurry and her heart heavy with each word that spilled forth. “It feels like every single one of these outfits makes my thighs look big, and my body’s not made for wearing them. It’s just… wrong, like I’m unworthy,” she choked on the last word in despair.

She could hear Sylus sighing, a twinge of sadness she’d never heard before lacing his words. “You couldn’t be more wrong.” Firm in tone, yet not unkind, her boyfriend leaned in and rubbed her forearms gently, making sure to meet her watery eyes as he did. “These dresses only show just how breathtaking you are, and how you belong by my side.” A crooked grin made its way on his face. “If anything, it feels like I have to earn my place next to you.”

“No! You—”

“See how absurd it sounds?” His deep voice was soft as he gently nudged her on her back, climbing in on top of her as his fingers delicately brushed back her hair. “I can never get enough of you. Of every inch of you. I almost refuse to believe you.” His gaze grew impossibly softer, voice even quieter, and his hand even gentler as it traced down her ear, rhythmically stroking at her neck. “But I know that really is what you’ve driven yourself to believe. And I can’t blame you for that.”

Wiping at her own cheeks, she tried her best to make herself feel less sorry. “It’s no one’s fault but mine. It’s not like anyone else has been telling these things to me.” What on earth was she doing, crying to him over dresses? Or her appearance at some stupid events? Or was it simply her body? She didn’t know at this point. All she knew was that she wanted to stop feeling so distraught over something so…

Before she could continue that train of thought, Sylus had silenced her rushing brain with a slow, open-mouthed kiss and a steady grip on her waist. Even now, he was ever the tease, nipping at her lower lip and huffing out a fond laugh as he heard her breath hitch, before pulling back. In half-defeat, he said, “Maybe I’m the one to blame for neglecting to remind you of what I think of you.”

He peppered kisses down her jaw and to her neck, his teeth grazing and sucking at the warm skin there. With a hiss, her hand reached out to pull him closer by the back of his head, and all he could breathe out against her was a stilted, “How often I think of you.” Practiced hands almost blindly pulled down the strap of her silk slip for more access, as he left his bold marks across her neck. His hair tickled her, but she reveled in the feeling even more as he traced a path down the top of her breasts.

They were heaving with the effort of having to pretend she wasn’t falling apart at the seams with his mere touch, and he let out a half-groan as his hand reached out to cup one, while he sucked more hickeys onto the flushed skin of the other. It was too much, but somehow not enough to ease the growing ache between her legs. “Sy,” she whispered, a plea in his name, quickly turning into a whimper of pleasure as his tongue boldly flicked at her nipple through the silk. “Don’t be cruel.”

“Mm. I could never. My pretty girl likes it when I indulge her, I know,” he muttered, ruby eyes flicking up to meet hers and pinning her down with just a gaze as he kneaded at her soft breasts through the thin fabric, his touch burning through her like wildfire. “Tell me where you want me. What you want me to do, to show you how I could never stop wanting you and your body.”

Swallowing thickly, her fingers dug into his silvery hair, like it was second nature, guiding him where she needed him the most. “Want your lips on me, please,” she whispered, as if it were explanation enough for the sudden dizzying heat of the room, and her eyes swimming with unwrought desire. “Tell me you want me like this. I… I need it. Need you.”

The chuckle that spilled from Sylus’ lips was lovesick, and then his large palms pushed her smooth slip up to her waist and expertly tugged down the ruined lacy underwear. “As if I could stop wanting someone so divine.” He sweetly kissed her navel, then completely diverted from his path for a second to squeeze at her thighs, hooking them up on his broad shoulders.

Even between her legs, he looked invincible—more so when he maintained their intense, passion-riddled eye contact as he suckled at the skin of her inner thighs. “So sweet, so perfect right in front of me,” he sighed, almost in just as much pleasure as she was while he brushed his thumb back and forth near the apex of her thighs, mapping out every stretch mark under his adoring touch, and giving her hips a firm squeeze as his hands wandered everywhere they could reach.

Her head was filled with cotton, all her senses consumed by him and all he was. “I can spell out just what you want me to say with my tongue instead.” The very prospect of it sent even more molten heat pooling to her core. Sylus’ tongue would be her undoing. She knew it, her body knew it, and his grin that turned wicked meant that he could see perfectly well just how dripping wet the idea made her.

That smirk was almost predatory; like she was his prey, all prepped and prettily pinned for him. It shouldn’t have aroused her so badly, knowing that he’d torture her with sheer blinding pleasure and a sinful tongue, and yet she could feel herself clench around nothing. He was her undoing, and always would be, especially when his voice was such a low purr. “And you can ride my face until you can translate every filthy word. What do you say, sweetie?”

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[natsaffection]

heyyy so i have this idea and i think no one can write it like you so yeah.

forced marriage between Natasha and reader in the present time. they both don't like each other because of this situation yk but with time they come around each other.

i know this is a really classic one but I've been thinking about this for a long time and sending a request to you seemed like a good idea considering your beautiful writing. but of course it's okay if you don't want to write it! hope you're having a good day!!! (or night idk😭😭) 💗

I see you. | N.R

Warnings: Forced Marriage for a Mission, a lot of arguments, Drinking, mentioned of sex while beeing drunk (both)

Word count: 6,7k

A/n: I hope it makes sense. I thought for a long time about how best to implement this scenario and found this solution to be the most plausible..(The beginning takes place before the invasion of Loki)

Natasha sat stiffly, her gaze sharp and unforgiving, fixed on the man sitting across from her. Nick leaned back in his chair, his one good eye studying her with an intensity that matched her own. “So, what’s this about, Fury?” Natasha’s voice was as cold as the steel walls surrounding them in the underground briefing room of the Avengers headquarters. She had been urgently summoned, pulled out of a mission briefing that had been weeks in the making, and the weight of this interruption hung heavy in the air.

Fury exhaled slowly, his fingers drumming on the edge of the sleek metal table. The silence stretched just long enough that Natasha’s patience nearly snapped. “It’s about alliances.” he finally said, his tone measured, as if he was still deciding how much to reveal. Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “I thought we had our alliances sorted out. Stark has the tech, Banner is working on the gamma projects, and I’m ready to handle the intel with Rogers. What’s missing?”

Fury’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he leaned forward, his hands tightly clasped together as if preparing for what he was about to say. “What’s missing is political stability. The kind that can’t be bought with technology or power. We need trust, and that’s in short supply these days.”

“Trust?” Natasha scoffed. “From whom? What aren’t you telling me?” He met her gaze, unwavering. “There’s a situation with Y/n.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed slightly. The name struck a nerve. You were no stranger in her world. Known for your diplomatic skills and sharp intellect, you were a key figure in international negotiations, often brokering deals that kept the world from chaos. You weren’t just a diplomat, you were a force, wielding influence in ways even Natasha respected. But that didn’t explain why you were the subject of this mysterious meeting.

“And what does that have to do with us?” Natasha asked, her voice low and laced with suspicion. Fury’s next words fell like a hammer. “You’re going to marry her.” For a moment, the words didn’t register. Natasha stared at Fury, waiting for the punchline to a joke that never came. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me right, Romanoff." Fury replied, his tone unyielding. “This marriage is the only way to secure the alliance we need. Your influence can grant us access to certain..resources and information that we desperately need. This goes beyond SHIELD, it’s about global security.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you think a forced marriage is magically going to solve all these problems?”

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy.” Fury admitted. “But this isn’t about love or personal happiness. It’s about necessity. We need a visible, undeniable alliance, something that other nations and organizations can see and recognize as a commitment. A marriage between you and Y/L/N would achieve that.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened. She was a soldier, a spy, a warrior..she had never allowed anyone to dictate the terms of her life, let alone something as personal as marriage. The very idea was repugnant to her, and yet..Fury’s expression told her this wasn’t just an idea, it was an order. The stakes were high, as they always were in her line of work, but this felt different. This felt personal in a way she hadn’t expected.

“And what makes you think she’ll agree to this?” Natasha asked, struggling to keep her voice steady. She wasn’t ready to show more emotion than necessary. “She’s already agreed.” Fury said, and Natasha felt the ground shift beneath her feet. “She understands how important this alliance is. She’s as reluctant as you are, but she knows what’s at stake.”

Natasha let that sink in for a moment. She didn’t know you well, but she knew of you, respected you even. You were someone who didn’t back down easily, who saw through lies and acted on your convictions. If you had agreed, then the situation was worse than Natasha had thought.

“And if I refuse?” she asked, though she knew the answer, but she needed to hear it. Fury’s expression hardened. “You won’t refuse. You’re too smart for that, Natasha. You know what’s at stake. You’ve always done what was necessary.”

Natasha exhaled slowly, her mind racing. She didn’t want this, she didn’t want to be tied down by something as archaic as marriage, especially not to someone she barely knew. But Fury was right. She had always done what was necessary, no matter the cost. And this, it seemed, was just another mission, one that would require all her skills to navigate.

“Fine..” she said finally, her voice clipped. “I’ll do it. But don’t expect me to play the happy housewife.” Fury almost smiled, but it was a cold, thin smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Natasha’s mind raced as she left the cold, sterile briefing room. Fury’s words echoed in her ears, a reminder that her life was no longer entirely her own. As she walked through the corridors of the SHIELD headquarters, her footsteps echoed ominously, each step bringing her closer to a fate she hadn’t chosen.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, pulling her out of her thoughts. It was a message from Fury again:

Meeting with Y/N in conference room in five minutes. Be there.

No time to think, no time to prepare. Typical. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before heading to the designated room. Natasha arrived at the conference room a few minutes early. The room was empty, the lights dimmed, casting long shadows across the table. It felt oddly impersonal, a stark contrast to the gravity of what was about to be discussed. She stood by the window, staring out at the headquarters’ grounds, trying to gather her thoughts.

The door opened behind her, and Natasha turned as you entered the room. You were dressed in a tailored suit, exuding the same sovereign confidence that had made you a respected figure in the diplomatic world. But there was something else in your eyes. A hint of irritation, maybe even anger. Clearly, you weren’t any happier about this situation than she was.

“Natasha.” you greeted her with a curt nod, your voice cool and distant. “Y/n.” Natasha replied just as coolly. She crossed her arms and leaned against the windowsill, her eyes narrowing as she studied the person in front of her. “So, I guess we’re getting married.”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Looks that way. Not that either of us had a choice.” Natasha raised an eyebrow. “And whose fault is that? If you and your people hadn’t been so secretive, we might not be in this mess.” Your face hardened, a flicker of anger crossing your features. “Oh, please. Don’t act like SHIELD is any better. You’re all about secrets and manipulation. This marriage is just another one of your little games.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed further. “You think I want this? To be tied to someone I barely know, just to fulfill a political agenda? Don’t kid yourself.”

“Kid myself?” You scoffed and took a step closer, your voice rising. “Do you think it’s any easier for me? Being forced to marry the Black Widow, of all people? I know your reputation, Natasha. You’re a manipulator, a killer. This is the last thing I wanted.” Natasha’s jaw clenched, her anger boiling up. “And what about you? You’re no saint either, Y/n. You’ve played your games, made your deals behind closed doors, pulled strings to get what you want. Don’t pretend you’re any better.”

Anger flashed in your eyes. “At least I don’t hide behind a mask of false righteousness. I do what needs to be done for the greater good, just like you. But don’t mistake necessity for desire. I have no interest in playing house with someone who doesn’t even know what trust means.”

Natasha felt a sharp sting of anger mixed with something else, something she didn’t want to name. “Trust? That’s rich, coming from you. You’ve built your career on deception. And now you expect me to believe you’re the victim here?” You stepped closer, your voice low and sharp. “I don’t care what you believe. We’re both victims of this situation, but if you think I’m just going to roll over for you, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Natasha’s anger flared again, her voice turning icy. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Let’s get one thing straight, I’m not here to make you happy. This is a business arrangement, nothing more. We’ll play the part when necessary, but other than that, stay out of my way.”

For a moment, they stood facing each other, only inches apart, the tension crackling between them like a live wire. Finally, Natasha turned away, breaking the tense silence. She moved to the table and sat down, forcing herself to focus. “Let’s talk logistics. The sooner we get this sorted, the sooner we can get it over with.”

You took a deep breath, regaining your composure, and sat down across from her. “Agreed. But don’t expect me to make it easy for you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Natasha shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I have an apartment in Brooklyn. It’s secure, and there’s enough space for both of us without stepping on each other’s toes. We can start moving your things tomorrow.” Your eyes narrowed. “Brooklyn? How convenient for you. Always need to have the home-field advantage, don’t you?”

Natasha offered a crooked smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m practical. It’s close to headquarters, and it’s safe. Unless you have a better suggestion?” Your lips pressed into a thin line, clearly dissatisfied but unwilling to argue further. “Fine. But don’t expect me to play the obedient spouse. I need my space, my own office, my own schedule.”

“Fine.” Natasha responded sharply. “I don’t want you around me all the time anyway. We’ll do what’s necessary to make this look real, public appearances, a few shared events, then back to our own lives.” You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed. “And what about the media? They’re going to follow us everywhere, looking for any crack in the facade.”

Natasha waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll handle it. Stick to the script, and we won’t have any problems. There’s no need to make this more complicated than it needs to be.” You remained unconvinced. “You’re acting like this is so simple. But we both know there’s nothing simple about this.”

Natasha’s eyes hardened. “We don’t have a choice, Y/n. We do this because we have to, not because we want to.” Your jaw clenched, your voice turning icy. “Believe me, Natasha, the last thing I want is for this to work. But I’ll do what needs to be done. Just don’t expect anything more from me.” The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the weight of your mutual dislike hanging heavy in the air. This was going to be a nightmare..

In this silent moment, an agent came in with a pile of paper stuff. He sensed the tension immediately and just put it on the table and quickly left the room.

Thebtable was now filled with details on how your upcoming marriage would be presented to the world. It was an intricately crafted plan, covering everything from the official story of how you met to the timeline of your relationship and your behavior in public. Every detail had been meticulously planned by SHIELD’s PR team to ensure that the marriage appeared genuine.

You flipped through the pages with a grim expression, your fingers gripping the edges of the paper as if you wanted to tear them apart. “This is ridiculous..” you muttered, not bothering to hide your frustration. “They expect us to memorize a script? Like we’re actors playing a part?”

Natasha, sitting across from you, “That’s exactly what we are.” she said coolly. “This isn’t a real marriage, remember? We’re playing a role for the public.”

You shot her a sharp look. “I’m well aware. But this..” you gestured contemptuously at the file “is insulting. ‘Shared interest in global politics and mutual respect for each other’s abilities’? Really?” You read the lines aloud, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “They’re acting like we’re two diplomats who fell in love over a discussion on trade agreements.” Natasha’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Would you prefer they invent a fairy tale romance? At least this version is believable. It’s not like we have a real story to fall back on.”

You slammed the file shut with a loud bang that echoed in the small room. “We wouldn’t need to make anything up if we weren’t being forced into this situation.” Natasha’s jaw tightened. “No one’s forcing you to stay. If you have a better solution, by all means, let me know.”

You sighed in frustration, rubbing your temples. “You know as well as I do that there isn’t one! Fury made sure of that.” Natasha watched you silently for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Then we make the best of it. We memorize the script, play the show, and get it over with.”

You looked up at her, your eyes flashing with anger. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re used to lying, aren’t you? Playing different roles, lying to people’s faces. But this..this isn’t just another mission, Natasha. This is our lives.”

Natasha's eyes hardened at the accusation. "You think I don't know that? You think I enjoy being paraded around like a puppet? I've spent my entire life fighting for control over my own decisions, and now I'm being told who I have to marry. So don't act like you're the only one angry about this." Your lips pressed into a thin line, your anger momentarily softened by a flicker of understanding. "Then why are you so calm? Why aren't you angrier?"

Natasha exhaled slowly, working to keep her emotions in check. "Because anger won't change anything. We're stuck in this, whether we like it or not. The sooner we accept that, the sooner we can figure out how to deal with it." You stared at her for a long moment, your expression softening just a little. "So we learn the script, smile for the cameras, and pretend we don’t hate each other?"

Natasha leaned forward slightly, her voice low and controlled. "Yes, we pretend we don't hate each other. But we have to make it believable. People will be watching us closely, if they sense something is off, the whole show falls apart. That means we need to know each other, at least enough to sell the act."

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident on your face. "And how do you suggest we do that? Some getting-to-know-you games? Maybe ‘Two Truths and a Lie’?" Natasha gave a humorless smile. "We start with the basics. We go through the script and fill in the gaps with real information. What's your favorite food? What do you do in your spare time? What’s your biggest pet peeve? Things that couples know about each other."

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed, clearly not thrilled with the idea. "Fine. But don't expect me to share my deepest secrets."

"I wouldn't dream of it." She opened the file again and flipped to a page titled *Personal Details*. "It says here that you enjoy hiking and reading. Is that accurate, or did they make it up?" You rolled your eyes. "It's true. I like hiking when I have the time, and I read a lot, mostly history and politics, but they don't need to know that in detail."

Natasha nodded, making a mental note. "Good. We can work with that. Mine says I'm into physical fitness and strategy games." She paused and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "Is there anything else we should add?" You looked at her thoughtfully before replying. "You like ballet, right? I read that somewhere." Natasha blinked, surprised by this observation. "Yes, that's true. Not many people know that."

"Well, it’s part of who you are.." you said, your tone less confrontational now. "We could use that." Natasha nodded, slightly impressed by this small concession. "Good. We'll add it to the list." You continued to go through the script, exchanging brief, factual information about yourselves, preferences, dislikes and childhood memories that could be used to support your fake story. But every answer was tinged with tension, each of you holding something back, building walls around yourselves.

After nearly an hour of discussion, you closed the file with a sigh and rubbed the back of your neck. "This is going to be a disaster." Natasha leaned back and crossed her arms. "Not if we're careful. We stick to the plan, stay on script, and give them no reason to doubt us."

You met her gaze, your expression weary but determined. "I just don't know how long we can keep this up. People will expect us to act like we actually care."

"We don't have to care." Natasha said, her voice cold and distant. "We just have to pretend we do." You shook your head, frustration evident in your voice. "And what happens if we slip up? If one of us says something off-script? We can't be perfect all the time."

"We won't slip up." Natasha said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We're both professionals. We've been in situations far more stressful than this. We'll manage." You stared at her for a moment, searching her face for a crack in her ironclad facade. "You really believe that, don't you? That we can just fake our way through this lie without any consequences?"

Natasha's gaze remained unchanged, unyielding. "I believe we don't have a choice." The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your situation pressing down on both of you. This wasn't just about memorizing lines or putting on a good show, it was about maintaining a facade that could crumble at any moment, exposing you both to public scrutiny and potential danger. Finally, you stood up, your movements stiff with unresolved tension. "I guess we'll see, won't we?" Natasha stood as well, her posture mirroring yours. "Yes. We will."

The days passed in a blurred whirl of public appearances, each one a carefully staged performance that only deepened the rift between you and Natasha. Every event, every gesture, every word was meticulously planned, yet the underlying tension between you was impossible to ignore. The first major event you attended as a married couple was a high-profile gala, the kind of glittering affair where the rich and powerful gathered under chandeliers to sip champagne and discuss global affairs. Natasha had attended similar events countless times before, but never under these circumstances.

You wore an elegant black evening gown that accentuated your every movement, while Natasha was dressed in a sharp suit. As you walked into the ballroom, her hand rested lightly on your back, a gesture meant to appear familiar, but to you, it felt like a shackle. "Ready to charm the masses?" she murmured with a sarcastic edge as you entered the room.

The night was a marathon of forced smiles and carefully calculated interactions. You moved through the crowd like seasoned professionals, your hand never leaving Natasha's back as you met with diplomats and high society, maintaining the facade of a loving couple. But beneath the surface, Natasha could feel your simmering anger, mirroring her own. At one point in the evening, as you were cornered by a particularly nosy journalist, Natasha's patience was put to the test. The journalist smiled broadly and inquisitively as she fired off questions about your supposed whirlwind romance.

"How did you two meet?" the journalist asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. Natasha suppressed an eye roll, but her voice remained smooth and warm as she responded. "We met at a diplomatic conference. We were both there on separate missions, but we kept running into each other. Things developed from there."

You seamlessly picked up the conversation, though your smile was a bit too stiff. "It didn’t take long for us to realize how much we had in common. After that, everything just fell into place naturally." The journalist seemed satisfied with the answer but continued to probe. "And when did you know it was love?"

You hesitated, your smile faltering for a split second before you recovered. "It wasn't just one moment. It was a lot of little things that made us realize we couldn’t imagine our lives without each other." Natasha forced herself to smile at you, her fingers lightly brushing your arm in a gesture meant to appear affectionate. "Yes, it was all those little moments that made it clear."

As the journalist moved on, Natasha could feel the tension in your posture, your hand pressing a little more firmly against her back, as if you were reminding her of your shared discomfort. "That was close.." you muttered as you both retreated to a quieter corner of the room. "We handled it." Natasha replied curtly, her voice barely above a whisper. "That’s what we do."

The rest of the night proceeded in much the same way, the two of you moving through the room, presenting the perfect image of a loving couple. But every touch, every smile, every word was carefully calculated, and by the time you finally left the gala, Natasha felt as if she were about to snap from the strain.

The ride back to your shared apartment was suffocatingly silent. The driver, a SHIELD agent, wisely kept his eyes on the road, leaving you both to your thoughts. When you arrived 'home', you immediately went to the kitchen to pour yourself a stiff drink. Natasha followed you, already on edge, her patience worn thin by the constant charade.

You turned to her, your expression hard. "You're really good at this, you know that? At pretending. It’s almost like it’s second nature to you." Natasha tensed as she heard the accusation in your words. "I had to be good at it. It's my job."

You let out a humorless laugh. "Your job. Right. I guess that's what happens when you're trained to be a spy from childhood. You learn to play whatever role is required." The words hit a sore spot, and Natasha's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Careful, Y/n. You don't know what you're talking about."

You took a step closer, your voice dropping to a near growl. "Don't I? You’ve spent your whole life being prepared for this, haven’t you? To lie, to manipulate, to make people believe whatever you want them to. This whole marriage..this whole act..probably means nothing to you."

Natasha felt her anger flare, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "You think this is easy for me? You think I enjoy lying about every aspect of my life, pretending to be someone I’m not?" You didn’t back down, your eyes burning with frustration. "But you're damn good at it, aren’t you? Must be all those years in that room. They made you the perfect little actress."

That was the breaking point for Natasha. Her eyes flashed with anger as she stepped forward and closed the distance between you. "You have no idea what the Red Room did to me. What it took from me. So don’t you dare try to twist that into some kind of compliment!" You stood your ground, your own anger flaring in response. "I’m not giving you a compliment, Natasha. I’m saying it’s terrifying how easily you slip into these roles. How convincing you are at pretending to care."

Natasha's breathing quickened, her pulse pounding in her ears. "You think I want to be convincing, huh? You think I want to be good at this? I’ve spent my entire life fighting to break free of what the Red Room made me, and now I’m stuck in another damn role..and it’s with you."

Your jaw tightened, your anger now tinged with something that looked like guilt. "Maybe it’s not just a role for you. Maybe you don’t even know who you are when you’re not on a mission." The words cut deep, and for a moment, Natasha didn’t know how to respond. But the anger was too strong, too raw to let go. "You don’t know anything about me. Nothing about what I’ve been through, what I’ve had to do to survive."

You both stood there, staring each other down, the air between you crackling with fury and unspoken pain. Natasha's chest heaved with the force of her emotions, her mind a whirlwind of anger and hurt that she could barely keep in check. You set your glass down with a sharp clink, your face tight with suppressed frustration. "You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t know you. But it sure as hell feels like you’re more comfortable in this lie than I am."

Natasha turned away, her hands trembling with the effort to contain her rage. "Go to bed, Y/n." You didn’t respond, simply turning on your heel and leaving the room, your footsteps echoing through the apartment. Natasha waited until she heard the door to your shared bedroom close before she finally let out a shaky breath. She was too good at pretending, far too good. And that was the problem. Because despite all her skills, all the years of training and missions, this felt different. It felt personal in a way she hadn’t anticipated, and your words had struck a nerve deep within her.

As Natasha stood alone in the kitchen, she couldn’t shake the feeling that you had seen through her facade in a way no one else ever had. The truth was, this marriage, this charade, was wearing her down in ways she hadn’t expected. And the more time she spent around you, the harder it became to maintain the mask she had worn for so long. She wanted to dismiss your words as just another argument, another clash of wills between two people who were forced into a situation neither wanted. But the truth was, you had hit on something she didn’t want to admit, even to herself. With a heavy sigh, she finally turned off the lights and headed to bed, her mind still racing. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up, but she knew one thing for certain. Whatever this was between the two of you, it was far from over.

The days that followed were intense, with both Natasha and you deeply immersed in your respective missions. Despite the tension between you, you had found a certain rhythm, maintaining your cover as a married couple while focusing on the tasks at hand. Your partnership was more functional than personal, efficient, strategic, and devoid of unnecessary emotional entanglements.

But that all changed when Loki appeared.

When chaos erupted in New York, the two of you were thrown right into the conflict, working side by side with the newly formed Avengers. The stakes were higher than ever, and there was no room for mistakes. You fought shoulder to shoulder, defeating Chitauri soldiers and securing key positions as you tried to save the city from destruction.

It was during one of those intense moments, after Natasha's confrontation with Loki, that everything changed. Loki had made it a point to bring up Natasha's past, the "red" in her ledger, the sins she had committed, the people she had hurt. He taunted her with names and events that Natasha had long tried to forget, using her guilt as a weapon to break her. The words were meant to destroy her, to make her doubt her worth, and they hit harder than any physical blow. But Natasha, the eternal professional, pressed on, using her pain as fuel to outmaneuver Loki and secure the information they needed. But the damage was done. The conversation with Loki had revealed more about Natasha’s past than she ever wanted anyone, especially you, to know.

After the battle, when the Avengers had won and the immediate threat had passed, Natasha returned to the SHIELD Helicarrier. The city was still in chaos, but the focus had shifted to recovery and rebuilding. Natasha was exhausted, both physically and mentally, the weight of Loki's words hanging over her like a dark cloud.

You had always had a keen sense for people, always quick to pick up on the smallest changes in mood or behavior. It was one of the reasons you were so good at your job. But now that sharp intuition was focused on Natasha, and it made her feel exposed in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

After debriefing with Fury, Natasha retreated to the quiet of your shared apartment, hoping to find a moment of peace. She had barely sat down on the edge of the bed when she heard the door open behind her.

“Natasha?” Your voice was soft, cautious, as you entered the room. Natasha didn’t turn around, but she could feel your probing gaze on her.

“What is it, Y/n?” Natasha’s tone was curt. She was too tired for this conversation, too drained to face another confrontation. You hesitated, the silence between you stretched out. “I..wanted to talk to you.” Natasha closed her eyes, bracing herself for another argument. “About what?”

“About Loki.” you said, your voice carefully measured. "We need to talk about what he said." Natasha’s muscles tensed, her back straightening as she tried to suppress the rising wave of fear in her chest. “I’m fine, Y/n. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“That’s the point, Natasha.” you continued, taking a few steps closer. “I am worried. I know I’ve pushed you before, teased you about your past, but I didn’t..I didn’t realize it was something so serious.” Natasha’s jaw tightened, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She didn’t want to have this conversation, not now, not ever. “I’ve already told you, my past is none of your concern.”

“But it is, Natasha!” Your voice was firmer now, the frustration evident. “We’re supposed to be partners, and I feel like I don’t know you at all.” Natasha finally turned to face you, her eyes narrowing as she stood. “You don’t know me, Y/n. And that’s how it’s supposed to be. I didn’t ask for your sympathy, and I don’t need your pity.”

Your expression hardened, but there was a flicker of pain in your eyes. “This isn’t about pity, and you know it. I’m just trying to understand.”

“Understand what?” Natasha snapped, her voice rising. “That I’ve done things I’m not proud of? That my past is full of blood and darkness you can’t even imagine?” You flinched at the sharpness in her voice, but you didn’t back down. “You’re right. I don’t know everything, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I’m trying to apologize, Natasha. For pushing you, for not realizing.”

Natasha stared at you, her anger battling with something deeper, something she didn’t want to name. “Why? So you can feel better? So you can feel like you’ve done the right thing?” Your eyes flashed with frustration. “No, damn it! I’m doing this because I care about you. Because, despite everything, I don’t want to keep fighting against you! Its draining..”

For a moment, you stood facing each other, the air between you charged with tension. Natasha felt her defenses beginning to crumble, the walls she had built around herself starting to give way under the weight of your words. Finally, she let out a shaky breath, her shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of her. “You want to know the truth?"

Natasha sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on her knees as if she needed to hold herself together. “The Red Room..it destroyed me. It took everything I was and made something else out of it. Something that had no choice, no control.” You sat down beside her, but you kept your distance, respecting the space she needed. “You didn’t have a choice, Natasha. You were a child.”

“That doesn’t change what I did ” Natasha said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. “I killed people. Innocent people. And I..I enjoyed it, Y/n. Back then, I enjoyed it because that’s what they made me.” You reached out, placing your hand gently over hers, but you said nothing. You knew this was a moment where words couldn’t do much.

Her voice was soft and laced with pain. “The things I’ve done..the people I’ve hurt..you can’t just brush that aside. The Red Room wasn’t just training, it was torture, it was conditioning, it was turning little girls into weapons. I did terrible things because I was programmed to. Because I didn’t know any better.” She paused, as the memories came flooding back with painful clarity. “And even after I got out, even after I tried to make up for it, the past still haunts me. Loki knew exactly where to strike, exactly how to remind me of the monster I once was.”

You listened in silence, your heart aching at the pain in Natasha’s voice. “You’re not a monster, Natasha.” She shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “That’s easy for you to say. But you didn’t see what I did. You didn’t live it.”

“No, I didn’t. But I’ve seen who you are now. I’ve seen how hard you fight to do the right thing, how much you sacrifice. That’s not the work of a monster. That’s someone trying to make things right.” Natasha turned to you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But what if it’s not enough? What if it doesn’t matter what I do, and I can never atone for what I’ve done?”

You took her hands in yours. “You don’t have to do it alone, Natasha. You don’t have to carry this burden by yourself. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Natasha looked down at your hands, the warmth of your touch grounding her in a way she hadn’t expected. For so long, she had believed that her past was something she had to face alone, that no one could understand the shadow that had shaped her. But in this moment, with you by her side, she realized that maybe, just maybe she didn’t have to be alone anymore.

“I’m sorry.” Natasha whispered, her voice breaking. “For pushing you away.” You squeezed her hands gently. “I’m sorry too. For not seeing how much you were hurting.” You sat there for a long moment in silence, the weight of the past finally beginning to lift, replaced by something new..something fragile, but real. It wasn’t love, not yet, but it was trust, and for now, that was enough.

The days after your late-night conversation were different, marked by an unspoken understanding that hadn’t been there before. Natasha and you continued with your missions, and the world was still recovering from the chaos of Loki’s attack, but something between you had shifted. Where there had once been tension and unspoken resentment, there was now a cautious, growing trust.

You moved around each other more easily, your conversations were less strained, your silences less heavy. The sharp edges of your interactions had softened, replaced by a tentative camaraderie that surprised you both. You weren’t friends yet, and certainly not lovers, but you were no longer just colleagues forced into a marriage of convenience. You were partners..genuine partners.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting mission, you returned to the Helicarrier and noticed the weariness weighing on Natasha. Her shoulders were slumped, and her usually sharp eyes were dulled with fatigue. But there was also something else, a lightness that hadn’t been there before, as if the burden she carried was now a little less heavy. “You look like you could use a break.” you said, your voice light but laced with concern. Natasha glanced at you, a small, tired smile playing on her lips. “You’re not wrong. This week has been hell.”

“More than usual.” you agreed. “How about we grab a drink? No talk about missions, just..a chance to unwind.” Natasha hesitated for a moment, her instinct to decline warring with the realization that maybe, just this once, she didn’t have to handle everything on her own. “Yeah, okay. That sounds good.”

You headed to one of the quieter lounges on the Helicarrier, a small, dimly lit room where off-duty agents could relax. It wasn’t exactly cozy, but it was private enough to talk without the weight of your roles hanging over you. You ordered a couple of drinks, and the two of you sat down at a small table near the window, through which the vast, dark night could be seen. For a while, you drank in silence, the easy silence between you a far cry from the tense moments of the past.

“You know..” you began after a while, swirling your drink in your glass, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About carrying this burden alone.” Natasha looked at you, her gaze steady but curious. “Yeah?”

“I’ve just..been thinking about how we’re supposed to be partners in this, but we’ve been so focused on keeping our walls up that we forgot what that really means." you said thoughtfully. “It’s not just about watching each other’s backs in a fight. It’s about being there for each other when things get tough, when the past tries to drag you down.”

Natasha nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “I’m not used to that, you know. Letting someone in.”

“I figured..” you said with a small smile. “But you let me in, at least a little. And I want you to know that it meant something. It made me realize that maybe I haven’t been as fair to you as I could have been.” Natasha’s expression softened, a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability in her eyes. “You don’t need to apologize, Y/n. We were both just doing our jobs.”

“I know.” you replied. “But still, I’m sorry. For pushing you, for not seeing how much you’ve been through. I was so caught up in the mission and the cover that I didn’t take the time to really see you.” Natasha took a sip of her drink, letting the warmth of the alcohol ease the tension in her shoulders. “You see me now.” she said quietly. “And that’s more than I’ve let anyone do in a long time.”

You sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes, the atmosphere between you relaxed and open. Natasha realized that it was a relief not to have to be constantly on guard, not to have to keep everyone at a distance. “You know.." you said after a while, your tone lighter, “I’ve been thinking that when all this mess is over, we should take a break. Do something normal. I hear married couples go on vacations.” Natasha chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “I’m not sure we pass as a normal married couple.”

“Who said anything about normal?” you grinned. “We could do something out of the ordinary. Like..I don’t know, skydiving or rock climbing. Something that gets the adrenaline pumping without the life-and-death stakes.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “So you want us to jump out of a plane..for fun?”

You shrugged, a mischievous smile on your lips. “Why not? After everything we’ve been through, it might be nice to do something that gets the heart racing without our lives depending on it.” Natasha considered it for a moment, then smiled, a real smile, not the practiced one she used in public. “You know what? That actually doesn’t sound so bad.”

You clinked your glasses together, and as the evening wore on, you talked about everything and nothing. Trivial things like favorite foods and music, and deeper topics like your dreams and fears. The walls between you continued to crumble, and by the time you finally returned to your apartment, there was a new understanding between you. “Thank you, Y/n. For tonight.” You smiled back, your voice warm. “Anytime, Natasha. We’re in this together.”

“Yeah.” Natasha replied, the words feeling truer than ever before. “We are.” As you parted ways for the night, Natasha felt a lightness in her chest that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t just the drink or the fact that she had survived another day, it was the knowledge that she wasn’t alone anymore. That for the first time in years, she had someone she could trust.

The following weeks were different. Natasha and you continued to work together, your partnership now stronger as the initial tension had eased. You were still far from being a typical married couple, but the foundation of trust you had begun to build made all the difference. One day, after a particularly successful mission, Fury called you both into his office. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was a hint of something, perhaps approval in his gaze.

“You two have done good work.” Fury said, his voice even. “The mission was a success, and your cover held under pressure. I have to admit, I wasn’t sure how this partnership would work, but you’ve exceeded expectations.”

Natasha glanced at you briefly, and you shared a small, knowing smile. “Thank you, sir.” Natasha replied. Fury nodded, then leaned back in his chair, his gaze sharpening. “That said, I’m not sure how much longer we can maintain the appearance of this marriage.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” Fury sighed, a rare sign of weariness passing over his face. “The situation has stabilized for now, but I have a feeling more trouble is on the horizon. You two have done your job well, but I’m giving you the option to dissolve the marriage if you think it’s the right move.”

Natasha felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite identify, regret? Uncertainty? She looked at you, searching your face for a clue as to what you were thinking. You met her gaze, your expression thoughtful. “I think..we should talk about it. See where we both stand.”

Natasha nodded slowly, a strange mix of emotions swirling in her chest. “Yeah. We’ll figure it out.” Fury watched you both for a moment, then gave a curt nod. “Take your time." With that, he dismissed you, and you left the office in silence, the weight of the decision heavy on your minds.

As you walked through the corridors, Natasha felt a sense of unease rising in her stomach. She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected to feel anything at the thought of ending the marriage. But now, the idea left a strange emptiness inside her. “So..” you said quietly as you reached your quarters, “what do you want to do?”

Natasha took a deep breath, turning to face you. “I don’t know." she admitted. “This started as a mission, as a cover. But now..I don’t know.” You nodded, your expression understanding. “I get it. It’s complicated.”

Natasha hesitated, then reached out and took your hand in hers. “But I know one thing. Whatever happens, I don’t want to lose what we’ve built. I don’t want to lose this..partnership.”

You stood there for a long moment, holding each other’s gaze, the air between you charged with unspoken possibilities. Finally, you smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made Natasha’s heart skip a beat. "I have a good Idea where we can talk further.."

The lounge was quiet, with only the occasional murmur of conversations on the other side of the room. Natasha and you had had a few drinks again, the alcohol warming your bodies and loosening your tongues. You had been talking for hours, the conversation flowing easily between you in a way it hadn’t before. The heaviness of your earlier tensions had lifted, replaced by a comfortable, almost intimate atmosphere.

Natasha took another sip of her drink, enjoying the burn as it slid down her throat. She looked at you, watching as you swirled the last bit of your whiskey in your glass, your eyes slightly glazed from the alcohol. Your words slightly slurred, “I never thought we’d end up here. Not like this.”

Natasha laughed, her own voice tinged with the effects of the alcohol. “Yeah, me neither. This whole thing… was unexpected.” You leaned back in your chair, your gaze fixed on Natasha. “But..I’m glad we’re here. I’m glad we’re talking like this.” Natasha felt a warmth spread through her, one that had nothing to do with the alcohol. “Me too.” she admitted, her voice softening. “It’s nice…not feeling alone.”

You smiled, a crooked, slightly drunken smile that made Natasha’s heart skip a beat as she felt a surge of emotions she wasn’t entirely ready to name. “You’re not alone, Natasha. Not anymore.” There was a charged moment between you, the air thick with unspoken words and the weight of your shared experiences. The alcohol had lowered your defenses, leaving you both more vulnerable and open than you had been in a long time.

Natasha set her glass down, her fingers lightly brushing against yours on the table. The touch was electric, sending a shiver of awareness through her. She looked up and met your gaze, and in your eyes, she saw the same spark of attraction that she felt. For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension between you growing more intense with each passing second. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, you leaned across the table, and your lips met Natasha’s in a gentle, hesitant kiss.

Natasha’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding as she responded to the kiss, her lips moving against yours in a way that felt both familiar and completely new. The kiss was tentative at first, an exploration of boundaries, but it quickly deepened as the need for each other became overwhelming.

Without breaking the kiss, you stood and pulled Natasha up with you. Your hands found each other’s bodies, exploring, touching, as you made your way out of the lounge and down the corridor to a quarter. Your kisses grew hotter, more desperate, as you neared the room. You fumbled with the keycard, finally managing to open the door, and the two of you tumbled inside, your bodies pressed tightly together. As you finally made it to the bed, the rest of the world seemed to disappear. There was only the two of you, entwined with one another, your kisses hungry, your touches urgent. The alcohol had stripped away your inhibitions, leaving only the raw desire for each other.

The night passed in a blur of passionate moments and whispered names, your bodies intertwined as you lost yourselves completely in each other. The connection between you deepened with every touch, every kiss, until there was no distance left between you, no more walls to keep you apart. When you finally fell asleep, your bodies were still entwined, your breaths mingling as you drifted into a deep, contented sleep. The alcohol had done its job, lowering your defenses and bringing you together in a way neither of you had expected.

The first thing Natasha felt as she slowly woke up was the dull pounding in her head. She groaned softly, turning over and pulling the blanket tighter around herself, trying to block out the morning light seeping through the curtains. But as she moved, she realized something was off, something warm and solid was lying beside her. She froze, her senses suddenly sharp despite the hangover. Slowly, she opened one eye and was immediately met with the sight of you lying next to her, your face turned toward her, still fast asleep.

Natasha’s breath hitched as the events of the previous night came rushing back to her. The drinks, the laughter, the conversation that had unexpectedly turned personal..and then how you had ended up here, wrapped in each other’s arms. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to piece everything together. You had both been drunk, very drunk but that didn’t explain everything. How had you gone from reluctant partners in a forced marriage to this point? What had driven you to cross a line she hadn’t even realized you were approaching?

“shit." Natasha muttered quietly, careful not to disturb you as she tried to extricate herself from the sheets. But as she moved, you stirred beside her, your eyes slowly fluttering open. For a moment, you both simply stared at each other, your expressions mirroring the shock and confusion that Natasha was feeling. “Morning.” you finally said, your voice rough and uncertain.

“Morning.” Natasha echoed, her voice just as hesitant. There was a long, awkward silence as you both tried to process the situation. Natasha could see the same questions in your eyes that were running through her own mind: How had this happened? What did it mean? And where do you go from here?

“I..uh..did we…?” you began, clearly struggling to find the right words. Natasha’s cheeks flushed slightly as she nodded. “Yeah. I think we did.”

You rubbed your hand over your face, slowly sitting up as you tried to shake off the remnants of sleep and alcohol. “Okay, so…how did we end up here?” Natasha bit her lip, trying to recall the details. “We were talking..had a lot to drink. And then..I don’t know. One thing led to another, I guess.” She managed a small, ironic smile. “But at least we don’t have to invent any lies if someone asks us about our sex life now.”

You chuckled at her comment, and the tension in the room eased slightly. “True. It’s almost like we’ve fully embraced our roles now. Now that she's finished.” Natasha rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “I guess we’re just overachievers.”

The laughter died down, and once again, the reality of your situation set in. Things had gotten personal in a way neither of you had anticipated. “So…what do we do now?” you asked, your tone more serious this time.

Natasha sighed, sitting up and wrapping the sheet around herself. “I don’t know. We could just pretend nothing happened, but… that feels like we’d be lying to ourselves.”

“Yeah, and we’ve done enough pretending to last a lifetime.” you agreed, your expression thoughtful. “But we also can’t ignore the fact that this all started as a mission. A mission where we were supposed to pretend to be in love, even though we didn’t really like each other.” Natasha nodded, the weight of that truth pressing down on her. “Right. And now we’ve crossed a line, and I don’t think we can just go back.”

You frowned, deep in thought. “But do we need to go back? I mean, we’ve been through a lot together, and… I don’t know. Maybe this was just..inevitable?” Natasha looked at you, searching your face for any hint of what you were really feeling. “Maybe. But now it’s complicated. We can’t just act like everything is the same as before.”

Your smile, “Hey, at least we’re dedicated to the mission, right?” Natasha laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “Right. We’ve more than fulfilled our duties.”

You both laughed, the tension between you beginning to dissipate. The humor was a relief, a way to ease the confusion and discomfort that came with waking up in each other’s bed after what was supposed to be just another night of playing your roles. But as the laughter faded, the reality of your situation remained. You couldn’t just laugh your way out of this, you had to figure out what it meant for you.

“So…what do we do now?” you asked again, your tone more serious this time. Natasha sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to organize her thoughts. “We figure it out. No more lies, no more excuses. We take it one step at a time.” You nodded, your expression softening. “I can do that. One step at a time.”

Natasha felt a strange sense of relief at your words. This was new territory for both of you, but at least you didn’t have to navigate it alone. You had each other, and while it was still a complicated mess, it was something you could rely on. As you both got out of bed and began to dress, the weight of your new reality settled over you. This wasn’t going to be easy, but you were in it together, and for now, that was enough.

“Hey, Natasha?” you said as you pulled your shirt over your head. “Yeah?”

You paused for a moment, your expression thoughtful. “I know this isn’t what either of us expected, but..I’m glad we’re here." Natasha smiled, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. “Me too, Y/n. Me too.”

As you left the room and stepped back into the world, you did so with a new understanding of each other. You had started as reluctant partners, forced together by a mission, but now…now there was something more. Something worth exploring, even if it was still messy and confusing. The mission had brought you together, but it was your shared experiences and growing bond that would keep you together. And as you walked side by side, ready to face whatever came next, you both knew that this was only the beginning of something new.

[moonstruckmoony]

A Ravenclaw Lunch 🦅

Drew some of my favorite Ravenclaws on this platform. Although one isn't necessarily a Ravenclaw. (@traceyc-uk I genuinely thought he was a Ravenclaw when I first saw him lol but I saw your comment reply somewhere that your first playthrough was Ravenclaw so I think this counts… a bit? 😂)

This post is basically a peace offering (and a love letter) bcs I want to make more Ravenclaw friends 👀👉🏻👈🏻 definitely not because I'm obsessed with you guys' MCs

I swear it was supposed to be a silly doodle at first but idk how or when down the line but somehow it turned into this mega drawing. Took me weeks to finish it. I’m not happy with a few technical things especially lights and shadows… and some other things as well but I leave it be bcs I’m aware that I’m still learning 🥲 The rest I’m pretty satisfied with, I’m just happy that I got to finally finish this.

Front row (left to right):

Violet and Pearl Castellar by @vienguinn Omg HAPPY BELATED BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THESE BABIES! These 2 are some of my favorites and everytime you post I always open my phone real quick, your short comics are my comfort 🩵

Clora Clemons by @choccy-milky I cannot not draw Clora?!!?! I consider you a legend in this fandom tbh 👑 also I want to thank you bcs your fic and illustrations literally helped me go through my stressful period when I was at my lowest bcs of my new demanding job that I started half a year ago. I look forward to your post everytime and your Clora and Seb always heals my soul 😭🩵💚

Sally Salamander by @siboom777 Sally is just so wacky and unapologetically herself and I love her for it 🩵 Does she take commissions for toys tho?

Marvin Jerry by @runicxraven MY LOVELY SILLY ADORABLE LITTLE NERD 💗💗💗💗 I need more Marvin in my life honestly.

@najiang ‘s MC - I’m so so sorry I didn’t draw her full face😭, I tried my best to show her face as much as I can while still looking like she’s taking those sausages haha. But anyway please know that I love your art so so much and I kept going back to the curry one and the one where MC came across Amit with beard as adults (that one is hilarious). Idk if your MC has a name or you left it nameless? I assume it was the latter but if she has one I’d love to know!

Faustine Daemon by @faustinio27 Hey, a fellow INFJ! Winter is the same 🩵 I really love her story and especially her personality character sheet, you drew her expressions really well and I’m a fan!

Back row (left to right):

Oliver Lennox by @pixie-dustss Handsome boi 🥰 We’re friends already (I hope I’m not the only one who thinks that way 🫢) from TikTok and you made me a video for Secret Santa last year and I just found out recently that you’re on Tumblr too so I want to say thanks by drawing Oliver! 🩵🩵🩵

Aurélie Collins by @morelikeravenbore I loove this look for Aura, she just looks so chic with the hat and scarf 😭🩵 Sassy Ravenclaw bebe 🥰 My Winter has some French heritage (the lore is still rotting in my notebook bcs I haven’t had the chance to draw her family members 🥲) so I do hope they can be friends and Aura would teach her French bcs she can’t speak much of it 👉🏻👈🏻

Alistair Dusk by @speedysart Surprise! You commented on my last speedpaint on Tiktok yesterday and I want to spill this art so bad but I was almost done so I kept my mouth shut haha. I love the pretty boi’s hair and piercings, and the fact that you chose this blazer for him, I just love it he looks so dapper in that 😣🩵

Eleonora Russel by @zordanna I love sweet Eleonora and her fascination with the moon and stars 🩵🌌 Oh and I kept coming back to your “I feel like an orange” Tiktok bcs it’s so fluffy and it heals my stress… also I adore your art it’s super soft and painty and delicate 🥹💗

@traceyc-uk ‘s MC - YOUR MC. I SWEAR TO MERLIN HE’S ON MY MIND 24/7 LATELY. Not sure why, it’s probably bcs I kept re-reading your comics. Also bcs he’s an adorable little golden retriever (but also a fierce cat!😼) You’re super talented in drawing comics and facial expressions, I have a lot to learn especially in terms of layouting… last time I made a comic I hated the layout and the fact that it looks stiff to me, so your comics has been such an inspiration!

[lowcallyfruity]

EVERYBODY STOP MOVING

ITS THEM

ITS SEBEK AND EPEL

IK GONNA CRYIM GONNA START SOBBING IM TEARING UP

THOAE ARE MY BABIES OMG

AHHHHHHHH THWYRE SO CUTE THEYRE ABSOLUTELY AMAZING

OP I LOVE THIS SO MUCH YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW INSANE I AM ABOUT YHIS IS IDSJKASJJDKSJAANAHAHSHSJSJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAKSKSJJSJSJSJSJSJSJSJSJSJSJSJSJSJJSKSOAJSJSKAJQHDKSJAJAJSJDJSJIAUZHj$%>\€.j€\€\€\.€£u^7-777uf5uy((frfy75(f(f;;fyyy(f;f7i8)ghggf6g(6g((gy)h)gu6((((f6u7jhhJ&hussjajah))((t;fdd5&/&//):7/8/$:&/&$—&,$,$@/9-9/$,!,!,??..!/&-818172$,$/&-&/$.$,$::7&

Old sketch of my kids 🥹🥹one of my favorite vignettes 🍏

[xsammei-her-belovedberyl]

Tomorrow will be 900 days together ! 😍🥹💗💗💗　

[pucksandpower]

if requests are open, can I pls request baby vettel telling her brothers (the grid kids) she has a "boyfriend" when she comes home from kindergarten one day ??? if requests are closed, please ignore 💗 love your works so much !!

Grid Kids: Cooties

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids take being big brothers very seriously

Series Masterlist

“No.”

Max’s voice is firm, his face aghast.

Charles, sitting next to him, nods in agreement. “I thought we agreed that you’re not allowed to date until you’re 40?”

Your daughter looks up from her crayon artwork, her little brows furrowing. “But Tommy said we’re boy ... boyfr …”

Lance interrupts, “Boyfriend and girlfriend? No, no, no. Absolutely not.”

George chimes in, holding up a toy car, “Tell whoever this Tommy is that you’re too busy racing to have a boyfriend.”

Lando adds, “Besides, boyfriends mean cooties. Do you want cooties?”

She tilts her head, pondering the dire consequences of these so-called cooties.

Charles, trying to be the voice of reason, kneels down to her level. “Sweetie, you’re a smart, wonderful little girl. And Tommy is, well ... you can do better.”

Mick, watching the entire exchange, laughs. “Guys, she’s just a kid. They’re probably just sharing crayons.”

Lando looks scandalized, “Crayons today, hearts tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope!”

Sebastian, watching the overprotective madness unfold, turns to you with a smirk, “I think our daughter has a solid set of bodyguards.”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around him. “Good luck to any actual future boyfriends.”

Your daughter simply shrugs, scribbles something on a piece of paper, and hands it to Charles. “For Tommy.”

Charles reads aloud, “We can be friends. But no cooties. Okay?”

***

The next day after school, Max bends down to your daughter’s eye level, “Now, which one is Tommy?”

She points a tiny finger to a little boy playing with a toy car on the playground. He has sandy hair and an innocent expression as he makes car noises.

Lando claps his hands together, “Alright, mates, game faces.”

George rolls his eyes but can’t help his grin, “Really? We’re really doing this?”

Lance nudges him, “We have to ensure he’s good enough for our sister!”

As the grid kids approach Tommy, he looks up, wide-eyed at the small army of grown-ups marching towards him.

Charles squats down, “Hey there, buddy. You Tommy?”

Tommy nods slowly, clutching his toy car.

George, leaning down too, tries to sound stern, “We heard you’re, uh, dating our sister.”

Lando, animatedly acting out air quotes around the word dating, adds, “We just wanted to have a quick chat.”

Mick, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious, jumps in, “You know, about intentions and all.”

Tommy blinks, “Inten-what?”

Max clears his throat, “Look, Tommy, we just want to make sure you’re treating our sister right. No stealing her toys or snacks.”

Lando jumps in again, “And absolutely no cooties. We had a long talk about that.”

Tommy nods fervently, “I don’t have cooties!”

Charles chuckles, “Good to know. So, you’ll play nice with her?”

Tommy nods again, “I promise. I just wanted to show her my new car.” He holds up the toy proudly.

George pats him on the head awkwardly, “Alright, Tommy. Just remember, we’re watching you.”

***

“Operation Sneaky Sneak is a go. Over,” Lando whispers dramatically into his walkie-talkie from his hiding spot behind a bush.

“Copy that,” George responds, trying to peer into Tommy’s living room window from a tree branch, “They’re ... playing with dolls? Oh, and there are some cookies. Over.”

Lance, hidden behind a garden gnome, chimes in, “I hope they're chocolate chip. Over.”

Charles, from his spot on top of a garden shed, adds, “No visual on any suspicious activities. Just some Barbies about to get the worst haircut of their life. Over.”

Mick, wedged between two trash cans, mutters, “Feels like we’re in a bad spy movie.”

Max, crouching behind a car, counters, “Feels? We ARE in a bad spy movie.”

Suddenly, the back door to Tommy’s house swings open and out step his parents, chatting and laughing. The grid kids freeze.

George, panicking, whispers into the walkie-talkie, “Abort mission! I repeat, abort!”

Lance tries to slink away, “Going dark! Going dark! We have been compromised.”

But it’s too late. Tommy’s mother spots them. “Um, gentlemen? What are you doing?”

Charles attempts to play it cool, “Oh, you know, just ... birdwatching. Beautiful sparrows around here.”

Tommy’s father suppresses a grin, “In our backyard? With walkie-talkies?”

Lando, thinking on his feet, responds, “Modern birdwatching. Very high tech. Over.”

Mick gives him a look, “Did you seriously just say over out loud?”

Max tries to salvage the situation, “We just wanted to ensure the playdate went ... smoothly.”

Tommy’s parents burst into laughter. “You guys really care about her, huh?”

Before anyone can respond, there’s a rustling from above. Thunk! “Ow!” Thwack! “Not the face!” Crash! “My hair!”

Everyone’s attention is immediately drawn to George who has dramatically fallen out of the tree, hitting almost every branch on the way down.

Rubbing his back, George groans from where he’s splayed on the ground, “Guess I should leave the climbing to the kids.”

Tommy’s mother takes pity on the fully grown children masquerading as adults in front of her, “Would any of you like to come in for juice boxes?”

The grid kids exchange sheepish glances. “Yes, please,” they reply in unison.

[verstappen-cult]

Maybe a lestappen fic were Reader friends are the worst and they comfort her, thank you 💗

You were out with your boyfriends when you saw them across the street, walking out of a shop, talking and laughing without a care. You had texted them yesterday to ask if they were free today to hang out, since you haven’t seen them in a few weeks. The answer? I have to work. I’ll be out of town. I’m sick, just numerous excuses.

Max noticed the change in your demeanor in an instant. “What’s wrong, love?” 

“Oh, I just remember that I need to call mom, or she’ll get mad.” You smile, not wanting to worry him. 

“You can call her once we get home.” He kisses your forehead and holds your hand to keep walking. 

Being around them was enough to make you forget about what you saw and you actually ended up enjoying the day off. 

Until Charles decided that it was time to eat and walked into one of your favorite restaurants in town. A very exclusive but cozy one.

The host just gave your boyfriends a look and it was enough for her to rush to get you three a table. 

“Aren’t those your friends?” Charles asks you, looking behind your shoulders. 

You didn’t want to look but you also didn’t want them to know what happened. So, you simply turned around with a forced smile. 

“Oh, yes! What a coincidence.” 

“You can say hello to them,” Max gives you a little pat on your lower back, encouraging you to go to them. “We will wait for you.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek before walking towards them. 

You notice the exact moment they see you, because they go from laughing to a complete silence. 

“Hey!” You try not to show how affected you are, how much you want to cry. “I thought you were busy today.” 

One of your friends gives you a once over before leaning closer to one of your other friends and whispering something before laughing.

They don’t even try to pretend. 

“Yeah. This was something last minute.” One girl says, taking a sip of her drink. “We forgot to tell you.” 

“Are you following us?” One of your male friends says, not hiding his smirk at all.

“Oh, no, I’m—” 

“Because that’s sad.” 

One of your friends, one you thought was someone you could trust, bursts out laughing before saying, “Even for you.”

You’re one second away from crying now, so you decide to excuse yourself and walk away, not hungry anymore and just wanting to go home. But Max and Charles are by your side in one second and you’re unable to do so. 

“Max, Charles!” 

Everyone’s expression changes just like it changed when you approached their table. The difference is that this time they’re all smiling, sparkling eyes looking up at them as if you are not even there, standing between them. As if you are invisible.

“Are you waiting for a table?”

“You can sit with us. We can make space for you!” 

It’s laughable, really. 

Charles looks at you, his hand on your waist. “You want to sit here, chéri?”

You avoid looking at your “friends” and Max notices immediately. 

“We just came for take out,” Max explains, a friendly smile on his lips. “she just wanted her favorite dessert and we can’t say no to her.”

Everyone on the table laughs. But it’s forced, anyone would notice. 

“Well, we should plan something, then.” A blonde girl you have never seen before says. She’s twirling her hair and everything, and you would feel disgusted if it weren’t for the situation you’re currently in. 

Max holds your hand, rubbing circles on your palm. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Silence. 

A beat. 

And then.

“Some friends you are.”

You are out of the restaurant in ten minutes. Charles carries some take out while Max doesn’t let your hand go, at least not until you’re in front of the car. 

“Are you okay?” Max cups your cheeks, and you finally let the tears fall. 

“We noticed things were weird when you stood in front of their table.” Your Monégasque boyfriend says, his free hand rubbing your back. “We just didn’t realize how bad it was until we heard them.”

“How long has this been happening?”

You sniff, feeling the pad of Max’s fingers wiping the tears off your face. 

“Now that I’m thinking about it,” You laugh, closing your eyes, thinking about how stupid and blind you were. “it has been this way since… forever.”

“Oh, baby.” Charles wraps you in his arms, Max joining the hug without a second thought. 

“You should have told us.” Max whispers in your ear, and you nod because he is right. “We could’ve done something.”

Charles rolls his eyes, giving his boyfriend a little push. “You don't need them, okay?”

“You are an incredible,” Max kisses your cheek, “and amazing person.”

“Most beautiful girl in the world.” Charles kisses your other cheek. 

Your Dutch boyfriend gives you a little peck on the lips before pulling away to look directly into your eyes. “Anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives.”

“Their loss.” You groan against Charles’ shoulder. 

“That’s my girl!” They laugh and you feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

“Now,” The blonde-haired boy says, opening the car door for you. “Should we go home to eat in bed while we watch some movie?”

“Can we watch Cars?” 

“Charles, she will choose the movie!”

“But she loves Cars too!”

[revelboo]

Happy birthday 💗😘😘😘👍👍👍🎂🎁🎁🎁🎁🎉🎉🎉🎈🎈🕯️🕯️🕯️🍰🍰🎉🎉🍰🎉

Thank y’all so much! You guys kind of bombarded me a bit yesterday 😂 @feral-sins Happy early birthday!

Everything is Alright Pt 37

Starscream x Reader

• You’re awake when Starscream returns to Soundwave’s quarters, sitting between Frenzy and Rumble as the three of you doodle on a spare data pad while the other cassettes watch. And when you look up at the sound of his entrance and smile, there’s a strange new tension in him. An awareness of you that wasn’t there before and he’s not sure what to do with it. That certainty that you’re his welling up through him.

• Is he angry again? Staring down at you with his wings aggressively lifted, he doesn’t exactly look happy to find you with Soundwave. But he doesn’t look furious either. He’s staring at you like he’s never seen you before, like you’re something unknown and your skin prickles under the weight of that scrutiny. And then he’s laying the back of his hand on the desk for you to come to him instead of reaching for you. As you get up to obey, you’re aware of Soundwave’s head turning to stare at Starscream. Of Starscream ignoring that look completely, optics fixed on you and that prickling sense that something’s shifted grows stronger, sending your heart speeding.

• Gritting his denta, he pretends he can’t feel Soundwave’s disapproval. That the other mech isn’t picking up on his turbulent thoughts, trespassing in his mind. A little hand grips a servo as you climb into his palm and he carefully lifts you to cradle against his chassis. You’re looking up at him in question, maybe picking up on his tension and Soundwave’s unease. Running a servo down your spine, his wings flick even higher, straining to keep them from quivering. Wants to snarl at the other mech for coming into his quarters, taking you, but he only vents in aggravation and leaves with you.

• Relaxing against Starscream, you listen to the thrum of his internal systems as he walks. “Everything okay?” You ask, laying your hand against him. “Bad patrol?” He’s silent, aside from a low rumbling that hums through you. One big servo slides against your shoulder and up to stroke over your cheek.

• There it is, that worry for him that twists him in knots. Guts him. “Of course,” he murmurs. “I brought your things,” he adds as he lets himself in his quarters. Your little head tips up in question and he nods his chin at the desk. Your expression blanks then you’re leaning out over the side of his hand, sending his spark thrumming as he curls his servos around you in case you fall.

• It is your stuff. There’s your bed and dresser. Most of your clothes from your closet. Half the food from your pantry, a toaster, your fridge. Your dryer, recliner, and a blender. Has he just grabbed things since he wasn’t sure what they were? Your stomach sinks as you wonder exactly how he’d gotten everything out of the house. You don’t want to know. You really don’t. The smile you flash him is slightly manic as you thank him. Because he’s probably damaged your house, but he’d done it to make you happy. Comfortable. Trying so hard to keep you happy.

Previous

Next

New Megatron model!

[latenightdaydreams]

Xin chào, xin chào

Dancer! Reader and Mafia! Konig

Reader has a passion for dancing, loves random dance, can dance anytime, anywhere, loves dancing and music, big fan of Kpop music

I want to dance, the song "I am the Best" by 2NE1 or the song "Money" by Lisa when I meet him

( I really like your fanfit)😘💋💗🌹

Thank you!!!

Mafia!König x Dancer!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, groping, dom!König, power dynamics, tobacco use

1.3k

König sits in a private booth at one of the several nightclubs he owns. Never being one to enjoy this type of atmosphere, he just sits back and watches the beautiful woman dance through the night as he nurses the cup of whiskey in his hand. Around him is his security, keeping eyes on all sides.

The few girls that look over at König and make eye contact are simply desperate for his status. He’s grown bored with fucking his fans. There is nothing new about that. The same group of women, the same boring sloppy blow jobs. He simply waves them off one by one as they periodically make their way over to his private booth.

His eyes are drawn to the door as a fresh wave of people begins to pool in. You and your group of friends. He watches as you all order drinks at the bar, his eye lingering a little too long on you. Who are you? He’s never seen you at one of his clubs before.

König continues to sip his drink, his eyes now focused on you and every move you make. When the song changes, you perk up almost instantly. Abandoning your drink at the bar, you make your way to the dance floor. König leans forward in his seat to get a better view of you. The song isn’t one he knows, but one his associate, Horangi, recommended.

As you dance, it’s clear you know this song, the way you dance so instinctively. It’s almost as if you’re putting on a show just for him. He notices you mouth the words before turning around. His eyes drop to your ass, letting out a deep sigh.

It’s the fluid way your body moves that piques his excitement. You’re on beat with every note, using your body as an expression of art. He can’t seem to look away, knowing that he has to make a move eventually, before another man does.

König raises his hand, waving over a member of his security. He directs the man’s view in your direction. “Bring her to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

König grabs his arm before he walks away. “Be gentle with her, ja?”

“Understood sir.”

The man walks into the crowd, walking his way to you. You’re completely unaware until you feel a hard hand wrap around your wrist. As you turn, your eyes are met with a 6’3 brunette man with green eyes. He gives you a quick smile as if to show he means no harm before leaning in near your ear.

“König would love for you to accompany him to his private booth.”

Without waiting for your reply, he guides you towards König. Confused and slightly frightened, you don’t pull back. People in the crowd move aside for the tall man, curious eyes falling on you. You’re led up a short staircase to a dimly lit room. There you see König wearing an expensive black suit. His pale blue eyes lock in on you.

“Come in, Liebling. Come sit.” König smiles at you as he pats the seat next to him on the leather couch.

You feel a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach, almost nervous to get too close to him. As you sit, he towers over your smaller frame. His eyes look over your body in your form fitting dress before meeting your gaze once more.

“I saw you dancing out there…” His thick Austrian drips like honey. “You looked absolutely stunning. Flawless.”

“Th-thank you, sir—”

“Call me König, please.” He smiles, exposing his sharp canines. “May I ask your name?”

“I’m y/n.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

König’s eyes drop back down to look over your body. He’s undressing you with his eyes, wishing to see every inch of you. In his mind he’s imagining you wearing a little less, dancing for him in the privacy of his home or office; feeling your hips grind up against his cock.

“Why don’t you dance for me, Liebling?”

“Like, right now?”

“Ja, why not? Show me up close how you move that body of yours.” As he speaks his eyes linger on your lips.

You look over at the men surrounding his booth, you feel both flattered and nervous. König sees the look on your face as you look at his men. He waves them away to give you both some privacy.

“Don’t mind them, it’s just us here.”

You nod, standing up from the couch. In your mind you’re trying to forget about your nerves. He’s just a man…who is also the head of a mafia… and wants you to dance for him. With a slow and steady breath, you let yourself focus in on the music. The rhythm booming loudly throughout the club.

König watches as you begin to sway your hips, studying the beat and relaxing yourself. Your hands caress your own body, teasing him with the way your fingers slip the hem of your dress up slightly and exposing more of your thigh to him. You turn your body around, his eyes following your ass as your hips roll.

With one of his hands he reaches out, letting his finger explore the delicate flesh of your inner thigh. He can feel your muscles tense slightly at his touch, causing a cocky grin to cross his thin lips. You’re so warm and soft. His hand continues upwards until his fingers graze across the thin fabric of your lace thong. As he removes his hand he leans back, moving that same hand to his cock and caresses it as he continues to watch you.

You turn back around and see König. It’s hard to ignore the enormous bulge in his pants. A heat rushes up from your center and spreads over your body. His hand reaches out for your hand, pulling you to him. He spins you back around and sits your plump ass on his lap.

“Keep dancing, Liebling.” He whispers in your ear.

Your hips grind on him as you lean forward. König looks down at your rear as you move. The friction on his sensitive cock drew a deep groan from him. His cock leaking, wishing he could bury it deep in your throat. Soon.

With one hand he brings you back, pressing your back against his chest. His other hand travels down the material of your dress, caressing the curve of your body, squeezing parts of you. Slowly, his hand reaches the hem of your dress again. He slowly pulls it up without any protest from you. Submissive, just how he likes his women.

“I love the way you move your body. I’d love to see you ride my cock.” His warm breath hits your neck's sensitive skin causing a tingle to rush through you.

His words leave you speechless, unaware of how you should even respond to that. You can’t really say no to König, not that you’d really want to; just you aren’t into hooking up. König continues to move the fabric of your dress up until your legs and thong are exposed. He looks down over your body at the stunning view.

Before König could go further, one of his men walks in, averting his gaze.

“Sir, her friends are requesting to have her back. They have to leave.”

König is clearly angry, but trying to hold it back to not scare you off. “Do you really have to go?”

“Uh—I should probably go with them.”

“Hm. Okay. When will you be back?”

“I don’t know.” You stand and adjust yourself.

“Okay, well. It was a pleasure.” König smiles and stands, wrapping you in a big hug.

His eyes follow you as you leave his private room. He motions for the man to come closer to him as he watches you walking through the crowd.

“Follow her. Find out where she lives. If she doesn’t come back this week, bring her to me.”

“Understood, sir.”

König turns and lights a cigar, taking a few puffs and letting out a deep sigh. His hand runs through his pale blonde hair with a deep rage building. He’s never been rejected or not gotten what he desired in the moment, yet you just walked away. When he picks up his glass to take a drink, he realizes it’s empty.

“Fuck!” He throws the empty glass against the wall.

[lewdmommie]

Just friends

Summary: can y/n manage being just friends?

Word count: 7.k

🎀Warning🎀:18+NSFW, oral sex, language, fluff, angst, violence, gore, sexual content,panic attack etc

(Like, comment, reblog for part four💗)

This is part 3 of one night stand

Part 1

Part 2

“We need to talk about yesterday.” You state firmly. Your tone was completely different from your usual lighthearted and funny personality. König and Ghost have quite literally seen you crack a joke in the middle of open gunfire. This was uncharted territory for them, whatever you were about to say had to be important. You take a deep breath, thinking of your next words carefully. The last thing you wanted was to hurt anyone again…especially König.

“Spit it out rookie.” Ghost says annoyed.

“Oh god how do I even say this…I feel something…something I can’t explain when I’m with you.” You look at König, he shifts nervously under your gaze.

“And with you.” Your head turns to face Ghost, staring into those glimmering obsidian eyes. He breaks eye contact looking far off into the distance without a word.

“I don’t know what it means but I know it’s something I can’t ignore.” Your brow scrunches as you choke the words out.

“I want to get to know you both and I’m here to ask for that opportunity. I’m here to ask you to be my friends. No titles. No rankings. No romance. Just…friends.” Your teeth nibble at your lower lip waiting for someone else to talk. It was nerve racking not being able to read their facial expressions. Their body language didn’t give much away either, you shift on your heels.

“That’s what you barged in here to ask for… friendship?” He slowly rises from his desk glaring in your direction.

“Well…yeah” Your voice is low.

“Do you really think friendship can fix everything?” Königs voice is dark, he speaks the word friendship as if it was something rancid on his tongue.

“I’m not saying it can I just…” you explain.

“I don’t need to be a part of whatever you two have going on. Leave. both of you.” Ghost barks.

“You seemed to be a part of it yesterday when you had your hands all over her.” König rasps, turning his killer gaze onto him. Ghost strides from behind the desk, his heavy footsteps fill the air as he takes slow deliberate steps forward. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. A chill runs down your spine as you’re standing flush in between these skyscrapers. He stands tall looking König straight in the eyes, not even acknowledging your presence between them.

“I don’t like your tone colonel. I think you’d better change that.” His head tilts mockingly, sizing him up.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you sergeant.” He beams into him like white hot lasers.

“Hah, you’ve always been balsy König, could always count on you to get the job done. But I want you to remember something…you can beat them out there on that battlefield but here this is my territory and you won’t win.” He steps closer making sure he heard every word.

“Why don't we find out serg.” He says through clenched teeth. At this point you’re sure they have completely forgotten your existence . You plant your palms on ghosts chest pushing him back, he seemed to snap back to reality realizing you were still there.

“This isn’t the time or the place…no war within our army. Those are your words sergeant! As a leader you have to practice and enforce that as law. König I know you’re angry and have every right to be but last night was training and that’s all. I won’t keep repeating myself anymore, I get that it’s hard to trust but you’re going to have to try.” You scold.

“ Why do you care so much? How can you stand here and act like you know what I want. You don’t know anything. I’ve never given you the impression that-“ Simon rambles.

“I know it sounds stupid, crazy even, but I know you want to get closer to me Ghost.” You say gently, König tenses at the soft tone of your voice…had you ever spoken to him that way? He couldn’t recall a time you had, and that made him envious.

“You need someone. You’ve spent so much of your time in isolation, it’s time to let people in.” Never had he heard you sound so sure of yourself.

How could you break down his walls so easily, there is something about you that made him feel at ease. When he’s with you it feels like he’s allowed to smile,Things feel easier…happier. But he knew from experience things like this didn’t come so easy. People always get hurt when love is involved.

“And König…I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of being angry and resentful towards each other. These past few weeks have brought us closer together and I don’t want to ruin that with one misunderstanding.” His face burns tomato red under his mask, but he wouldn’t show it. His shoulder stiffen as if he’d been sliced across the chest. How could such beautiful words hurt this bad , you’d summed up his feelings for you perfectly but he couldn’t shake the thought of you being so involved with Ghost. Being your friend sounds like absolute torture but it was a ray of hope. Hope that one day maybe you would undoubtedly love him back. He felt like a lost puppy waiting to be owned by you…it was foolish but he couldn’t stop himself. Your naivety muddled the fact that this would be war and you were the prize.

“It has always been you. I’ve got so much blood on my hands it could run a river red and yet you were granted the title of sergeant. You’ve somehow made sure I was one step below you but that’s gonna change. You said I couldn’t win…watch me.” He says sharply.

“So this is your playing field…her?” Ghost looks you up and down with judgmental eyes. You grimace wondering why he looked so unimpressed.

“Hah, fine I’ll bite. What are the rules of the game?” Ghost chuckles, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“We get individual days to spend with y/n and the other person cannot interfere.”

“And what about the days that aren’t accounted for?” His head tilts curiously.

“First come first serve. It’s up to y/n who she would want to spend that free time with even though I know it’ll be me. No one likes being around you.” König taunts, it isn’t clear if it’s the jealousy talking or the militant hunger for victory. Either way you didn’t appreciate them auctioning off your time and affection like some silly little game.

“You’re on. It’s about time I remind you of your place, colonel.” He reaches out an open palm, König grasps it firmly, shaking on the terms.

It’s like everything you said completely went over their heads but you knew it would take patience and time to build a stronger relationship with them. If thinking of it as a competition got them on board, then you’d just have to play along.

~

Your arms tremble as you push the weighted bar up with all your strength. Your shoulders burn with each rep begging for a break, to your body’s dismay, you were just warming up. You look up into caramel colored eyes, Maya smiles down at you as she helps support the weight of the bar. With a final push you line it up with the metal stand, it lands with a loud crack. You sit up, sweat pouring down your face. Maya removes the white towel from around her neck, she dabs away the stray droplets as they fall. She was always right there at your side helping you with even the tiniest of things.

“Remember to hydrate. The body can lose up to 10 liters of water a day when active.” She hands you her purple water bottle.

“Your knowledge never ceases to amaze me, you're gonna make a great doctor one day.” You tip the bottle up, taking several gulps before coming back up for air. Maya’s eyes softened, she needed to hear that; with all the death and injuries on base that passion could be lost. She is a practicing apprentice Doctor on base as she studies remotely to get her doctorate in medical science. Balancing education with active military duty was no easy feat, personal attachment can get in the way. People she laughed with, pulled pranks on, sat and had meals with…had died in her arms. Brutal excruciating deaths that she could do nothing about. No matter how hard she tried to save everyone…their blood still stained her hands. She thought often about what she would do if you got hurt…could she save you? Maya shakes the negative thoughts away reminding herself that you were one of the special forces best. You may be a handful but you were damn good at your job.

“Thank you y/n, you don’t know how much that means to me.” She stamps a kiss on your forehead.

“I walked in on Sergeant Ghost and Colonel König talking about some new intel on the target. There might be a raid soon, I know how anxious you are with new missions.” A look of discomfort flashes on her face leaving just as quickly. She puts on a fake smile not wanting to put any more stress on you. You were the one who would be out there on the front lines risking your life and she didn’t want to worry you.

“I’m okay,really, you get used to it.” You weren’t sure if she was trying to convince you or herself.

“If you ever need to talk…I am here Maya. I’m always here.” You bore into her with sincere eyes.

“and that’s why you’re my best friend. Now come on, we gotta keep that heart rate up.” She takes your hand, helping you to your feet. The two of you walked over to the pull up bar, arm day was not fun…at all. Your muscles were already achy and tired but you had to push in order to build endurance.

“Can’t I just work on legs today, that’s so much easier.” You whine, Maya laughs patting your lower back.

“As much as I agree with that statement, no. You handle high caliber weaponry. if you’re not strong, All that push back could damage your muscles.” She raises her arms holding the stretches in ten second intervals. Because of her insane height there is no need to use a stepping ladder, she simply reaches up and gets to work. Her fingers graze the bar before pulling back suddenly.

“I forgot my chalk, it helps prevent blisters, I’ll be back. Go ahead and start your sets without me. I gotta run back to our room.” She jogs off leaving you standing alone in the gym. You always felt slightly self conscious being in the weight room without a partner. Like everyone was watching you. Judging you. In reality no one even glanced your way but that didn’t stop the anxiety from striking. A small tremor shakes your hands as you reach up for the bar. It’s way too tall to grab on your own, Maya was usually there to give you a lift. You scan the area for a spare stepping stool or chair but everything is occupied. Eyes. Eyes everywhere. There looked to be two of everything as your vision doubled.The room begins to spin and your knees feel weak, where was Maya? When would she be back? Maya? Maya? Maya?!

“Y/n look at me. Are you okay? Should I take you to the infirmary?” Your vision begins to focus turning the two ghosts in front of you, into one. Your breathing is shaky, you nod unable to speak. His head tilts forward with concern, his bare hand cups

your elbow as he pulls you closer.

“Your eye movements are unsteady,breathing accelerated, pupils dilated…you’re having a panic attack. Talk to me y/n what is distressing you?” His voice is gentle, calming even.

“People. Just so many people. M-Maya left… I’m alone. I-I don’t like being alone.”you choke. His heart breaks at your words, loneliness was no stranger to him. Thinking back, Ghost couldn’t recall a time when you weren’t surrounded by people. He figured it’s because of how likable and fun you were but now the dots began to connect. You made sure to never be alone because it scared you…just like it scared him.

“I’ll stay with you.” His voice was earnest, he surprised himself with his sudden reaction. Normally Ghost worked out alone as he did with most things. But he wanted to help you, seeing you so shaken up tugged at something deep inside him.

“That’s it…slow deep breaths. One…two… exhale three. Very good.” He coaches. He looked to be very familiar with this sort of thing, you wondered if he’d dealt with this before. Ghost didn’t seem like the type to deal with anxiousness, he was always so cool headed.

“I’m good now.” You huff.

“Are you sure? We can go somewhere more private.” Your face heats up at his word choice, you remember the wet dream from just nights ago.

“N-no I’m fine, I still have a few sets to do.” You slide your elbow from his grasp.

“Then let’s do it… I assume your next set is pull ups and judging by your size, you usually have Maya help you up?” He hypothesized walking behind you to examine the bar.

“Yeah Maya always lifts me up-“ your words are cut off by his strong hands sinking into your waist. His fingers press into the soft plush of your hips, the crotch of his cargos rubs against your ass. His eyes fall low as he stares down at you, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles. You don’t speak up, getting lost in the comfort of his touch. The rush of his heart vibrates through your back, the rise and fall of his chest quickens. You can hear the heaviness in his breath, the heat in his mask makes sweat bead at his brow. This isn’t the first time your bodies have met this closely but somehow this felt…Different. You snap to the reality that there is a room full of people here witnessing this moment. That idea made you focus on the initial goal…pull ups.

“I’m ready.” You assure, jumping as he hoists your body up with ease. Your fingers begin to slip, ghost bounces you up, allowing you to readjust the grip.

Even with the extra help, your arms burn as you pull the entirety of your weight up and over the bar. Your chin taps the cool metal marking one successful rep, ghost pats your thigh.

“Good job, make sure you’re breathing with each pull.” He instructs, his arms squish the fluff of your upper thighs. You nod, extending the length of your arms preparing for the next pull. Ghost is painfully aware of how your ass is pressed against his upper chest. His face is inches from the smooth damp skin of your back, his eyes track the small trickle of sweat that runs down your spine. He says a silent prayer, begging not to get hard in front of his subordinates. Even the slightest touch of your body drove him fucking mad, he’d been attracted to women before but never like this. Those thoughts were always intrusive and fleeting, he didn't let his mind wander too deeply but you…he imagined ripping those mauve pink leggings open and ramming every solid inch of his cock inside you. He hated how much control you had over him without even trying.

“I-I can’t take anymore” you groan, feeling the intense burning sensation growing in your arms.

Oh come on, he thinks. You couldn’t have chosen a better word choice, a shock shoots up his leg activating his dormant member. He nearly drops you as the mirror shows him a glimpse of his hard dick poking through his gray sweatpants. He couldn’t let you see him like this, before you could blink your feet were on the ground and ghost was B lining it to the men’s locker room.

“Hey wait where are you going?!” You call as he scurries away. He doesn’t turn around or even answer as he disappears into the white locker room door. Well that was rude, you think. You were used to him treating you like some kind of germ but this seemed off and you couldn’t put your finger on it.

~

There still hadn’t been any sign of Maya since earlier in the weight room, a sinking feeling pulls at your stomach. It wasn’t like her to just up and disappear without saying a word . The military base wasn’t the biggest in the world so there weren't many places she could have gone. Your eyes scan the mess hall landing on the table you two usually shared. Empty. No sign of her at all, you begin to worry what would keep her from eating lunch. Lunch is Maya’s favorite time of day apart from breakfast and dinner, this was strange. You look at the lunch line and physically cringe when you see that ominous brown paper bag with your name on it. It wouldn’t bother you one bit if you never saw another peanut butter and jelly ever again. You snake through the crowd and head toward the exit deciding to go search for her, it’s what she would have done for you. Just as you burst out of the sea of soldiers there is a deep voice bellowing down the long tan hallway.

“Y/n” a voice rumbles in the distance. Loud heavy footsteps shake the ground as König jogs in your direction.

“I didn’t see you in the mess hall, have you eaten already?” His words are rushed and nervous.

“No I haven’t, I was actually going to-“ he chimes in disregarding the rest of your sentence.

“That’s perfect! I wanted to invite you to have lunch with me.” His voice sounds energetic.

“Well I was just about to go look for Maya…” you trail looking around trying to spot her.

“Oh I saw her a few minutes ago when I was walking past the infirmary.” He says. The infirmary should have been the first place you looked, Maya did tons of overtime with Dr.Bradshaw. Extra hours counted as field work for her university grade, but overworking wasn’t always a good sign for her. You take a mental note to ask her later not wanting to disturb her study time with the Doctor. There was a nagging urge to ask König exactly what she was up to when he saw her but you decided not to snoop. If there was an issue she would come to you about it, you were always there for her and she knew that…or at least you hoped she did.

“Oh okay then I’ll just talk to her later thanks.” You spin on your heels ready to jog back to the cafeteria. A leather gloved hand entraps your wrist, holding you still. Your head whips around staring up into his forest green eyes, they dart back and forth searching your face.

“I’m sorry, I-I uh did you have plans for lunch today? If so I completely understand…I know you might still be worried about Maya.” His voice is shaky.

“No I don’t have plans for lunch, ugh I’m the one who should be sorry I almost blew you off just now. What kind of friend am I?” You joke. His chest tightens at the word friend, he drops your hand back to your side. It catches your attention but you breeze by it not wanting to cause any damage.

“I’d love to have lunch with you König.” You say enthusiastically trying to salvage the situation.

“Perfect. Let’s go, try to act normal.” He nods in the directions of the exit motioning you to follow his lead. You had a feeling this was going to be another mission impossible, König mixed with the words “act normal” never turned out good. Since the recent feud with ghost he was more rebellious than ever. You cautiously walk behind him trailing him out of the double doors, the sun beats down on your skin. Your eyes squint from the sudden lighting change, your hand lifts to shade your forehead blocking out the brightness. Las Almas Mexico was a beautiful mountainous place with endless desert views. There were small cities with an economy based on agriculture and farming. Like every major metropolitan region there are city areas for entertainment and tourism. The base was quite a distance from those areas, the deserts granted seclusion. Most of the drug activity and gang violence originated in the city areas. Although there were plenty of small gangs they all worked under the one major crime organization in the city…The Las Almas Cartel. The whole reason for your special forces deployment was to monitor and take down this organization. They participated in egregious crimes against the residents of Las Almas and helped push the drug epidemic throughout multiple countries. You walk forward,your shoulder brushes his arm ever so slightly. His eyes shift away with embarrassment, he hadn’t touched you since that night. People chirp hello’s as you slip through the ocean of workers, there were so many familiar happy faces in the crowd. You are grateful König is by your side or all the attention could have become overwhelming very quickly. It warmed your heart to be loved by so many but it became exhausting, always chasing approval from others.

König senses a shift in your mood, boldly, he rests his big hand on your lower back; ushering you along. He leads you to the vehicle repair and storage shed. There are lanes wall to wall filled with earth toned military vehicles ranging from Humvee’s to M113’s.

“Oh hey y/n! What are you doing all the way out here darlin’?” His southern twang is thick. The dimples in his cheeks deepen as he smiles toothy and big. His giant veiny hands stain the white cloth as he wipes away black sludge.

“Hey Jack, I hope we didn’t interrupt your work.”

“You could never bother me y/n seeing you is always a treat. Speaking of treats, where’s ol doll face Maya I haven’t gotten my daily fix of her.” He laughs. Jack was a flirt that was no secret but everyone knew about his unrequited love for Maya. Most people found her attractive but Jack’s feelings were public, making sure to scare off anyone who thought about making a move. They were just like an old married couple, arguing about any and everything.

“She’s working in the infirmary.” You explain.

“I’m gonna have to go and pay her a visit, she can’t run forever.” Wrinkles form at the corner of his eyes as he smiles ear to ear.

You can’t help but cheese at his friendly face. König didn’t appreciate Jack's lingering gaze. His eyes slit with annoyance, why were you smiling at him like that? He thinks burning with jealousy.

“I’m taking a Jeep on patrol.” He stated plainly.

“Sure thing, I’ll just need to see that authorization letter from the sergeant.” He says wiping the oil from his cheek.

“I am your Colonel. I grant myself authorization.” His arms fold over his chest as he stands tall and confident.

“But the sergeant said-“ Jack starts.

“Unless you want to be scrubbing toilets for a week I suggest you give me the keys. If not, I’ll just have to report you for interference with a mandatory patrol. Are we clear?” His voice is stern. You find yourself gawking at him. his power had you melting in his gloved palm. König didn’t like abusing his power but there was no way he’d go beg ghost to allow him to take you out. If he wanted you to himself he would make that happen at any cost. It didn’t matter who he had to step over as long as he got to be with you. Jack stares him down for a moment weighing out his options, he could either disobey Ghost and get punished or disobey König and get punished. Great choices he think’s sarcastically.

“Look, if you’re gonna take her out you gotta be back before sunset or else ghost is gonna be on my ass…deal?” He extends a hand to König.

“Deal.” He takes his hand firmly.

“Here I just did an oil change on her so she’s the best I’ve got right now. I’m still repair’n the others.” He tosses him a set of Keys with a dog tag attached. König nods, throwing his black duffel bag in the back seat. You never understood the idea of jeeps being doorless but as you hop in it makes a little more sense. If you’re being shot at you could literally jump right in. You chuckle at the ridiculous thought of you diving into a moving jeep.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, clicking his seat belt and cranking the ignition.

“Nothing, it's dumb.” You laugh tugging the seat belt over your chest. He chuckles backing out of the garage. His arm lays across the back of your headrest as he looks behind him making sure no one was there. Your thighs clench at his focused body language, how did he manage to turn you on with such mundane tasks. The car whips around, he straightens the wheel and puts the gear in drive.

An armed soldier from the gate walks up to the driver's side scoping out the inside of the car.

“Colonel. Where are you headed?” He salutes.

“Me and y/n will be holding a patrol unit on the mountain. There’s been reports of suspicious activity by the locals.” He lies smoothly. The mask came in handy since without it every emotion he felt would be on display. König is, unbenounced to everyone else,a terrible liar. His face gives him away every time. Despite what people think he could be read like a book if it wasn’t for the mask.

“Yes sir. Open the gate!” He calls.

König’s shoulders relax as the metal gates swing open. Mission accomplished. He finally had you to himself for a day. After spotting your workout with the sergeant; he had to find a way to steal your attention back. Your head leans out the door watching in awe as the ground gets further away. The mountain road is bumpy and narrow, your hand grips the seatbelt tightly.

“Scared of heights?” He asks, looking over at you with concern.

“Of course not, keep your eyes on the road.” You scold.

“You know it doesn’t help to look down.” He reaches over, tugging your chin away from the ground. His fingers linger for a second before returning to the wheel. You’d seen this view from the chopper when you first arrived on base but this is a new perspective and it is gorgeous. The cacti bloomed with tiny magenta flowers, the dry soil cracked into interesting shapes. Small animals poke their heads from the grooves in the ground,and Even the sky is clear and vast. If maps didn’t exist you’d have sworn the land stretched on forever. The heat is also comforting, the sun wraps you in a tight embrace kissing your skin. You wished you could see his face, you wondered if he was enamored with the scenery just as you are.

“It’s amazing isn’t it…like a whole new world.” He breathes looking around curiously. One hand gripped the wheel and the other pointed to a viper green snake in the distance.

“Did you see that?!” He exclaims excitedly.

“I did.” You say softly.

He coughs awkwardly, he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you but animals are his weakness. He felt an obligation to protect creatures smaller than him, what better way to use his gigantic size. After what felt like an eternity he pulls into an open area at the top of the mountain overlooking the base. He puts the car in park and takes the key from the ignition. You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning your body to hop down; König jogs around the vehicle blocking your path.

“Allow me.” He pretends to open an invisible door.

You jump down and punch his arm playfully. You both laugh filling the open air with joy. He admires you bent over laughing from your gut, a real laugh, that’s when you were most beautiful. He loved seeing happiness radiate from you, you wore it well. He wanted to make everyday a good day filled with bliss, he dreamed of one day being the one to make that a reality for you. He swings his duffel bag out with a huff walking over to a clear patch of land. With razor focus he unzips the bag unloading its contents onto the sandy ground. He lays a green blanket down before laying zip lock bags of mystery foods on to the cloth. To finish off the set up he sets up two colas on either side of the picnic blanket. It was one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen, he plops down in the blanket waving you over. You can’t help but smile at the exquisite dining arrangement designed by the renowned König.

“Beautiful set up chef.” You joke.

“On today’s menu we have the chefs’ choice…Ham and cheese sandwich. My secret ingredient is melted cheese courtesy of today’s weather. Strawberries, hand picked by me from the local farmers market. And two delicious warm cokes.” Your nose scrunches in disgust, earning a hearty laugh from the colonel. His laugh was like liquid gold, it rumbled deep, shaking your core. It’s a shame others didn’t get to witness this playful side of him.

“Sounds… yummy.” You say snagging a ham sandwich. You unzip the bag and have an experimental bite. To your surprise it’s not too bad, somehow the sun melted cheese worked. Not something you’d have regularly for a snack but the fact that König cooked it, made it taste better. You can’t imagine him moving around the kitchen, did he keep the mask on or take it off? You giggle at the image of him with an apron and mask on.

“You’re always giggling and I’m never a part of the joke.” He pouts.

“I was just imagining you cooking in a cute little apron. Would you keep the mask on or take it off.” You tease.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He slips his sandwich under the hem of his mask, taking a bite. At this angle the sunlight glows behind you like a halo. König admires how angelic you are, he didn’t understand how someone could look so perfect. There wasn’t a word in any language that could describe your beauty, inside and out you were radiant. A rose blush sweeps his face, he looks away realizing how long he’s been staring. Butterflies flutter in your stomach.You turn away relocating your attention to the incredible view. At this height the wind whips strongly , blowing a cool breeze through the air. You close your eyes tilting your face to the sky, his eyes trail down your neck peering at the steady thump of your vein. He remembers the way you look with your pulse beating out of control;lustful eye low eyes staring back at him. That night you took a piece of him with you, he has never been so needy for a woman in his life. In a metaphorical sense you were a succubus and he would gladly give up his soul.

“God you’re gorgeous.” He breathes. Your eyes widen as you stammer for words nervously.

“W-what, you can’t just say that out of nowhere.” You stutter.

“Should I give you a warning next time?” He flirts.

“You’re always messing with me.” You slap his hand. He smirks loving how you crumble for him. He reaches over to grab the bag of fresh strawberries, his palm brushes the base of your thigh. He slides a berry under his mask, making a sound of approval.

“Mmm. These are really good. Try it.” He plucks a strawberry from the bag, holding it up to your lips.

You’re hesitant for a while looking at the berry in disbelief, he couldn’t be serious. This is definitely not something friends do but you do have a habit of overthinking things. Maybe this is one of those things, it’s just a strawberry, nothing less, and nothing more. You nod coyly, leaning in and wrapping your plump lips around the fruit as your teeth sink in; taking a small bite. His jaw tenses as he fights back the urge to lick the sticky juices from your mouth. With his free hand he lifts his mask, exposing the lower portion of his face. There is an intensity behind his eyes as he slides the rest of your half eaten berry past his blushed lips.

“You’re right, these are…really…good.” You trail as he closes the distance between you.

“Here, have some more then.” He bites another one. His giant hand rests at the back of your neck pulling you closer inch by inch. All thoughts evacuate your mind as his soft breath brushes your lips. He’s so close you can almost taste him. So achingly close that it makes your heart leap right out of your chest. Why was he doing this to you, making you yearn to feel him again. Reminding you of the mind bending orgasms he gave you that night. It wasn’t fair, how could you be friends when he is so irresistible? You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t. He brushes his soft warm lips over yours begging for permission, pleading for just one kiss. You did. You’re caught in his net as your lips meld desperately in a symphony of passion. His tongue spreads the strawberry nectar across your taste buds making the kiss intoxicatingly sweet. He shifts onto his knees towering over you, never breaking the kiss. He leans down deepening it, gripping the curve of your hips; a camo clad knee forces through the barrier of your thighs. It’s feverish and greedy, he kisses you like he’ll never get the chance to again. Your back arches into his touch, a loud moan echoes through the mountain as he teases your pulsing clit. The friction was unbearable, it felt good but it wasn’t enough. You wanted, no, needed more. Your pussy quivers as he breaks the kiss to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck.

“W-we can’t. Friends don’t uhn-friends can’t do this.”You pant.

“I want to please you. I didn’t get to show you all of my tricks last time.” He whispers seductively. He pushes you back onto your elbows, clearing the picnic blanket in one swoop of his hand. You stare down at him, your breathing is erratic wondering what his next move will be. Strong calloused fingers work the complicated buckle of your work pants. Soon your pants are not only unbuckled but being slid down the length of your legs. Your chunky black combat boots prevented them from going any further so naturally he removed those too; leaving you completely exposed from the waist down. You couldn’t believe you were letting this happen and in a desert nonetheless. König wastes no time grasping your hips and lifting your pelvis, leveling your pussy with his eager mouth. Your shoulders and head rest on the blanket while your lower half is suspended upward; legs dangling on his hunched shoulders. Even with him leaning over, your ass is still elevated at a staggering height. You’re completely at his mercy, no matter how much you squirm his grip is iron tight. The black fabric of his mask sits on the plush of your mound hiding his face as he kisses your warm lower lips. You couldn’t see anything from this angle and the mask added even more security to his next action. You watch the clouds move up above as he traces the glazed slit of your entrance, your hips buck in response. A quiet whimper vibrates your skin as he tastes you for the first time, the scent of your arousal fills the limited space in his mask. Every breath he took was filled with you, that one lick already had his dick frustratingly hard and throbbing.

“Du schmeckst so verdammt fantastisch (you taste so fucking amazing)” he mumbles into your heat. It’s impossible to hold back any more, his tongue slithers up and down the slippery split of your cunt. The tip of his tongue draws circles around your stiff clit, he nips and sucks at the bundle of nerves making your legs shake. His hands sink into your thighs as he pushes deeper into your delectable pussy. The thick flat of his tongue laps at your labia teasing the wet folds of your outer sex. Your muscles contract as he explores every crevice of your dewy flower, your juices dribble down his chin as he teases the perimeter of your tight hole. You grind up into his face wanting him to go further tasting the deepest parts of your sweetness. His hands release your thighs leaving the heavy lifting to your core strength. Your body shakes as you fight to stay in this position not wanting the pleasure to end.

“That’s it, you're doing so good Schatz(love) you’re going to have to put in some work to cum.” He breathes. His hands tug at your shirt fighting to push it up past your breast. You decide to help him out, lifting your shirt and black bra in one motion; your nipples are stiff with arousal. He rolls your hard peaks between his fingers, teasing and caressing the sensitive buds. Your mouth falls slack as his tongue eases into you, your walls clench as he strokes your inner velvet. A sloshing wet sound fills the air as he fucks your cunt with his long skillful tongue. Your hands fist the blanket as you become overwhelmed by all the sensations. How could something wrong feel so good.

“No no no you can’t cum yet, I am still enjoying my meal.” He reprimands. You bite your lip and stare up at him with pleading teary eyes.

“P-please let me cum, s’to much c-can’t hold it please.” You cry.

“Look at me Prinzessin. Focus on me. Just like that, I’m so proud of you. Don’t give up beautiful. You're taking it so well.” He praises, locking eyes with you. He feels your pussy flutter on his tongue as you fight the urge to drench his face. He sucks your clit into his mouth gently, with a final pull sending you tumbling over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna cum, need to cum fuck-“

Your spent cunt spurts delicious cream all over Königs face, drenching his mask.

“Look at the mess you made. Naughty girl.” He eases your body back to the ground, licking his lips. You lie there twitching, unable to form a coherent sentence.

~

“Suns going down. We’d better start heading back to base.” He says in a disappointed tone. He wished this day could last forever but that wasn’t realistic. The last thing he wanted to deal with was ghost pulling rank on him again. You nod helping him pack his duffel bag, he smiles as your hands brush when reaching for the same items.

“I had so much fun with you today.” You chat loading the leftover snacks into the bag.

“Me too. We should come back here soon, I’ll pack better lunches next time.” He promises, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

“Everything was perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.” You assure, swallowing back the feelings of regret. What did this mean moving forward, did you make the mistake of leading him on again? König catches a glimpse of doubt on your face and speaks up.

“Today…never happened. We hung out, as friends.” He pats your head. You smile up at him appreciating his kindness and understanding, he knew you never meant to hurt him. Today was all on him, he took that step knowing what it meant and he’d do it again. He knows you need time to figure things out and he was done being impatient. He is sure about his feelings for you and is willing to wait as long as it takes.

“Let’s go.” He taps your butt as he walks by. You gasp smacking his back in return,trailing behind him to the jeep. He tosses the duffle bag in the back seat, walking around to help you into the car.

You stop in your tracks peering up into his beautiful lush green eyes, his heart thumps rapidly.

“Did you forget something?” He asks.

“No. You’re just…incredible you know that.”

“Y/n I-Get down!” He leaps forward shielding your body as you two tumble to the ground in a panic.

“Ah! Scheisse! I’ve been hit.” He groans, squeezing the oozing gunshot wound. A ringing sounds in your ears from the blast, everything moves in slow motion as you help him limp to the Jeep.

“A fucking sniper. We have to move! Now! Drive” he instructs baring down his teeth, holding back a scream. His leg is on fire, blood spurts between his fingers as he applies pressure. The gas pedal is touching the floor as you push the vehicle as fast as it’ll go. Your fist beats down on the horn trying to alert the front gate you’re coming in hot. one hand swerves the wheel frantically twisting and turning and the other is on Königs head holding him close as you quick fire words of affirmation.

“It’s gonna be okay, please stay with me. Hang on alittle longer. König? König?! Fuck!” You sob whipping the wheel back and forth making it harder for the snipe to aim. His consciousness begins to fade from the excessive blood loss; the once cream flooring of the Jeep is now a cherry red. His hand goes limp as he faints no longer applying pressure to the wound. He’s fading fast.

“No no no wake up. I know you’re sleepy but stay with me please please König we’re almost there.” Tears stream down your face as you beat down on the horn. The gate is a few feet away, the soldier on guard sees you approaching at 150 miles an hour. He sounds the alarm, triggering the gate to open up slowly. You can’t let up on the speed it’s too late, you have to push it. Any further delay could cost him his life, you slam your foot to the floor giving it all you’ve got. A loud crack slices through the air as you burst through the half opened gate, taking the side view mirrors off in the process. Both feet hit the brakes forcing you to a violent stop. You jump out, yelling for back up.

“Please help me, he's hit! The colonel has been shot! Please he isn’t responding help me!” You scream, wrapping your hands around his calf trying to stop the bleeding.

“Y/n! What happened?!” Maya runs up taking off her shirt to use as a makeshift tourniquet.

“They shot him.” You hyperventilate.

“Who shot him?! Get him to the operating room now!” She barks at the nearby soldiers.

“I-I don’t know…” you sob watching the men carry him away.

To be continued?…