#hes tired of being a third wheel

[mikurinkuwu]

and then people wonder why len's homophobic/j

[marimeeko]

I don't think anyone has talked about post epilogue, when Rody someday comes to visit Izuku in Japan!

And what about Bakugou and Todoroki tagging along since they were all together in Otheon.

And Bakugou just CONSTANTLY struggling with his feelings coming from watching Rody and Izuku being besties and even looking like they are just a shade away from being a couple.

Pino hasn't made a single peep OTHER than affection for Izuku, and Bakugou knows what that means.

So Katsuki, who is obviously deep in his feelings for izuku, who is funding and orchestrating the secret support suit for Izuku, is just PINING for Izuku and "the rest of their lives", is just walking around Japan with Izuku, Rody and Rodys two little siblings, just SICK with his own frustration, jealously and anxiety.

But also he's desperately keeping himself in check because he has no right to ruin anything for Izuku. He wants Izuku to be happy. Right now, Izuku is so so happy to be with Rody.

But Rody is also extremely happy to be with Izuku...

Katsuki trying so hard not to hate Rody for it.

Katsuki trying so hard to not be mad that it's not HIM and Izuku out on a date, or a patrol, or even just a walk to the store, instead of Izuku guiding Rody around points of interest as a guest.

Katsuki is even getting to the horrible point in his life where he sees Izuku interacting with the young siblings(and he's always amazing with kids) and imagines them instead as little freckled kids with mops of blonde and green.

To further the illusion, as he stares with icy crimson eyes, he visualizes Rody standing there with a hand on Izukus shoulder instead to be himself, Katsuki "DynaMight" Bakugou, standing proud and beaming over their tiny family.

The thought makes him feel fluttery inside but at the same time, so lonely.

He sneered over how much he craved that domesticity.

Katsuki GROWLING like a territorial cat if Rody takes Izuku by the hand to go look at something new.

Katsuki almost losing it and maybe even having to walk away from the others if Rody starts floating the idea of Izuku visiting or even leaving Japan for Otheon. Telling him there's always room for him in their place(by now he has gotten a better apartment) and the kids screaming YES DEKU COME STAY WITH US!

Katsuki having to collect himself as he can't help but overhear Izuku kindly saying it would be nice to visit someday(but he doesn't hear Izuku go on to say that he would overall prefer to stay in Japan bc it's home and his mom/kacchan is here and his studies, plus a job is already lined up for him at UA....)

Then Todoroki sensing all of this simmering emotion in Katsuki of course and assuring Katsuki with his presence. He let's Katsuki rib him if it makes him feel better(it doesn't)

But Todoroki would also eventually assure Katsuki that "You're underestimating how much Midoriya cares for you. Just because he hasn't said it....we all know he's just not very forward about his true feelings."

Katsuki hopes that's true but just kind of grunts in response.

"You know...you could always ask him out yourself" Todoroki tells him in the flattest tone possible, and Katsuki sputters and turns beet red

[dreamerlynx]

.

[tokumusume]

my tteotm ships from most normal to most insane:

tantai jin x ye xiwu or mingye x sang jiu: canon but het, kinda meh, a strap-on should be involved (i can't picture luo yunxi topping)

xiao lin x ttj: supported by subtext ("we could have been brothers"), the sad childhood backstory is a plus

ji ze x sang you: they never met each other* but they must look cute together, potentially spicy (and sad) bc jz is a god and sy is a demon (except jz is the spicy one hehehe)

tantai minglang x ttj: very problematic since they're half-brothers but extra spicyyy for the same reason, i'm totally getting cancelled for this

*technically they did, as jz saw sy's dead body in the barren abyss lol

[mars-ipan]

uuuguguggghhhh i am tired of being single can someone come up to me and decide we're dating now. or can any of my friends in relationships scoot over i want in

[nereidprinc3ss]

diva

in which flirty!reader shows up to work in a bad mood and it’s spencer’s job to deal with her attitude. not that he minds. (bandages universe)

fluff warnings/tags: fem!reader, mentions of reader coming to work from a casual hookup, flirting, lots of teasing, the BAU being silly geese bc this is before all the trauma, insecurities about reader's job performance, spencer wants to be a cyborg, borderline cuddling hehehe a/n: nanana diva is a female version of a hustler (bandages!reader theme song) no but really i just missed them so much lowkey always accepting requests for these two!! I hope you guys likeeee bc i loveee them and also this was based on a request so i hope u see this LOL

As soon as Hotch calls wheels up in thirty you’re slumping forward, resting your head on folded arms. The to-go cup on the round table in front of you has long been emptied but you look at it longingly anyway. 

Morgan chuckles, slapping his folder down on the table next to you. “Aw, look at that. Bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

“It’s Sunday,” you groan. “It’s seven in the morning. Excuse me for not being ready to carpe the diem.”

“It’s just carpe diem,” Spencer interjects, standing and slipping his file into his bag. You sit up and give him the most indignant look you can manage, though it’s hard when you’re this tired and he’s that cute. Slacks. Sweater vest. Button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. An enviable waist. 

“Whose side are you on?”

He frowns, brushing a tuft of shining-clean brown hair out of his eyes. 

“If I was on anyone’s side other than my own it would cease to be their side. We’re all always on our own sides.”

“No, you’re on my side. Defend me.”

His brows only dart up and he looks back down to his bag. It’s a look you know well. Don’t get me involved. 

Morgan spins in his chair to face you, one elbow resting on the table. 

“I’m just saying, if this is your Sunday morning, I’d love to see your Saturday night, little miss forty five minutes late.”

“You heard Hotch say he called me half an hour earlier than everyone else. It was technically fifteen,” you frown. “And I… was at church.”

Rossi gestures at you with his coffee cup. “You step foot in a church, your shoes are going to start smoking.”

Your jaw drops. 

“Wow. I thought old people were supposed to be sweet. Come on, Spencer.”

Spencer knows better than to put up a fight as you get up and grab him by the hand not holding onto your cup and folder, dragging him to the bullpen to sit at your desk until the team is ready to go. 

He stands in front of you, hands in pockets, as you plop into your own chair. “I… can’t tell if you’re actually mad.”

“I am. At you. For not being on my side.”

Spencer sets his bag down and leans against the adjacent desk, arms folded. You stopped caring a long time ago if he’d notice you ogling the long, lithe lines of him. Maybe you never really cared, if you’re being honest with yourself. He’s a little harder to scandalize these days, anyway. But you’ll never stop trying. 

He bites his lip thoughtfully. 

“If you’re mad at me, why am I the one you dragged down here?”

“I’m not taking questions, Reid.”

He hisses. “Ouch. Reid.”

“Mhm. That’s how mad I am.”

“Okay, grouchy. Do you want a refill?”

You borderline pout, continuously perplexed by his kindness in the face of your insolence, but holding out your hollow cup for him anyway as you slouch lower in your seat. 

“Don’t call me grouchy.”

“Then don’t call me Reid,” he says, taking your cup as he passes, and you think you sense the faintest wash of amusement coloring his tone. 

The jet doesn’t do much to put pep in your step. 

“Aberdeen,” Morgan muses, letting his file closed on his lap. “Isn’t that where, uh, Kurt Cobain grew up?”

Spencer sits down in the chair next to you, setting the day’s third cup of coffee in front of you on the small table. “It is. It’s also where Washington’s first suspected serial killer William Gohl resided.”

“First of many,” Rossi amends. Reid nods. 

“In the US, Washington State comes in fifth place in terms of serial killers per capita. Some blame a widespread vitamin D deficiency. Just under eight hours of sunlight in the winter, the least in the contiguous United States.”

Emily gives an abhorrent rendition of a famous Nirvana riff, imitating a twangy electric guitar, before gesturing to your boss. “Hotch, you’re from Seattle. Did you ever get into Nirvana? The whole grunge scene?”

Hotch lowers his folder, giving her an unimpressed look. “Did you?”

While the exchange is amusing, the coffee is not perking you up and you’d like to be slightly less upright, if possible. You bump Spencer’s knee with your own, and he looks over at you obediently. 

“What’s up?”

“I wanna move to the couch.”

He nods and gets right back up. When you pass, and he doesn’t immediately follow, you turn around. Maybe the lack of sleep has rendered you unable to hide your look of contempt as he tries to sit back down. 

“What are you doing?”

Morgan snorts. “Uh oh. Lapdog almost forgot his training.”

“I am not a lapdog,” Spencer defends, giving Morgan a harsh look of his own, before following you, much to the amusement of the rest of the BAU. 

“Don’t listen to them,” you mutter as you step aside to let him pass. 

He settles into the corner of the couch. “I almost never do.” When you cozy up next to him, he seems surprised. “Um, hi?”

“I’m cold. You’re warm.”

“This is… unprofessional.”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Oh my god. They don’t care.”

That’s enough to shut him up. Eventually he relaxes, and though he doesn’t put his arm around you (they remain crossed in front of him) he doesn’t seem too distraught over the way you’re leaning against him, head on his shoulder. The sky is a soft grey where you can see it through the little rectangles lining the far wall, like a pale tea with plenty of milk. 

“What’s up with you, anyway?” He asks eventually, gingerly, and though he’s bold to ask it you know the last thing he means to do is offend. Luckily for him, he’s your soft spot. You let your eyes flutter shut against the boxes of diffuse light. 

“Tired.”

“I know that. You’ve had three cups of coffee and you’re still about to fall asleep.”

“Well… that’s all it was.”

“Mhm.”

“God, you’re—” you lift your head, about to give him a good old fashioned verbal lashing, but he’s so sweet looking, and he’s so kind to you even when he’s not, that you deflate—all your air coming out on a sigh as you settle back against him. “I… was… not home, when Hotch called me.”

“Yeah, you said you were at church?” He sounds utterly bewildered. Your heart melts, and you can’t hide the fondness seeping from every pore as you look up at him through your lashes. He really is so beautiful. 

“That was a joke, Spence. I was with a friend.”

His brows knit and a faint blush tinges his cheeks. 

“Oh. I knew that.”

And he really is getting better at detecting your brand of sarcasm. One day you doubt you’ll be able to pull any over on him, and he’ll stop being so adorable and bashful and embarrassed and sweet all the time. You don't relish the thought.

“What were you doing this morning?” You ask, in a bid to quell the very embarrassment you covet, because you’re not actually a demon, despite what Rossi had implied earlier. 

“Sleeping.”

You hum. Imagine taking his hand. Don’t really take it. 

“Me ’nd you should hang out outside of work more often.”

“Like… in the mornings?”

“Uh, probably not,” you laugh, your own face heating at the implication he’s only sort of and undoubtedly accidentally making. “I mean—we could. We could have breakfast sometimes.”

“I like breakfast,” he muses. “I know a couple of good spots. I can show you when we get back. There are these ube pancakes that are like bright purple on the inside. Have you had ube? I think you’d like them. The pancakes and the tuber. They’re the same color as your laptop case.”

You giggle, too tired for anything more dignified and too charmed for anything less authentic. Spencer has a moment of apparent self-awareness and after a second chuckles along with you, and like 99% of your moments with him, it’s a nice one. 

It slowly fades, and you sigh. 

“We’d probably get called in right in the middle of breakfast.”

“It’s always a possibility,” Spencer agrees, and you feel him nod. He smells really nice—clean and sort of cedar-y. Warm. 

“You ever think about how we’re just… robot arms to do the bidding of the federal government? We’re not even people. We’re cyborgs.”

“I’d love to be a cyborg.”

“But then you wouldn’t be so warm and comfy.”

“If I were a cyborg I could install a heating element. I’d still be warm. I don’t know about comfy. Maybe if I kept the biomechatronics to one side of my torso.”

“You’d install a heating element just for me? So we could keep cuddling?”

He clears his throat. You smile to yourself. 

“Why are we cyborgs, exactly?”

“Because we don’t get personal lives. The job comes first. I could be doing anything. I could be in the middle of eating bright purple pancakes with my good friend and colleague Spencer Reid and it doesn’t matter. If we get called in we have to leave.”

“If we were in the middle of breakfast, we could just… take our food to go and finish it at our desks.”

“Well—I guess it would be different if it was us, but with my other friends… it’s kind of a bummer, sometimes.”

You’re thinking about the friend you left this morning. Nobody you’re particularly invested in, but you wonder if that friend is still asleep in bed—and you realize you don’t much care. You’re glad to be here, and not there. 

“I think if the job didn’t feel worth it to you, you would’ve left by now. But you haven’t. You can complain all you want, but you show up every day.”

You scoff. 

“Fifteen to 45 minutes late, depending on how you look at it.”

“That is… atypical. You’re usually on time.”

“Usually…” you repeat darkly. A moment passes. An uncomfortable insecurity begins to bloom and ache like a rotting tooth. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Do you think…” you falter, unused to this kind of vulnerability. A cloud swallows the jet and the cabin darkens into a place for secrets. “Do you think I’m worth the trouble?”

You know Spencer senses the unease like a sheepdog can sense a storm from the way he perks up next to you. He’s always been like that—incredibly attuned to the moods of others. You hope he doesn’t think profiling is just another of many learned skills. It’s a genuine talent, a sort of savantism in its own right. You can’t imagine him doing anything else as passionately as he does his job. Sometimes it almost makes you insecure. 

“What trouble?”

“Like… Hotch having to call me half an hour earlier than he calls the rest of the team. Or you, accepting my constant teasing. I know I’m—I can be kind of a diva. I don’t always really feel as professional as you guys. Or… qualified, maybe.”

You can imagine the way he’d narrow his eyes as he thinks this over, though you’d still like to see it for yourself—but you keep your head on his shoulder. In a way, he’s already getting a closer look at you than you usually grant to anyone. 

“I think… you’re good at your job. And you care more than you’d like to admit. That thing you do—where you sometimes show up a few minutes late, or you piss Rossi off on purpose, or you flirt with Hotch—I think… we all have things like that. We all self-sabotage, because it’s a really hard job, and I think we all wonder if we’re really qualified for it, or deserve to be in these positions, or if we even want the responsibility of trying to save people’s lives. But you’re a genuinely good person and a gifted profiler. And everyone else knows it, too.”

The deep thrum of the jet’s engine blurs the rest of the team’s incomprehensible chatting and the pounding of your heart into one big muddied streak of paint. Hopefully Spencer can’t feel the heat of your cheek through his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh,” you murmur. 

A moment passes. 

It’s a relief when Spencer’s anxiety comes bubbling up before your own can. “Sorry, was that too much?”

“No,” you hurry, “no, it was—no. That was really really nice of you to say. Thank you, Spencer.”

He relaxes. “Well… it’s all true.”

How could anyone ever deserve him? How does anyone get lucky enough to know a man like Spencer Reid?

When you burst through the other side of the cloud, the sun has come out. It burns away the milky early morning fog and makes your eyes ache just enough to finally wake you up. You blink and stretch against him like a cat. 

“Spence?”

“Hm?”

“I just want to clarify… I don’t flirt with Hotch. I flirt with you.”

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

Just some thoughts of you and Toji sharing a hotel room with Shiu when you go on a trip. There are two beds, you and Toji share one, and Shiu gets the other one to his mopey self, because his wife won't be there until the next day. He gets to warm the bed up on his own and he hates every minute of it, because one: he's third wheeling you and Toji, and two: you and Toji act as if he's not there when it's time to go to sleep.

"Why aren't you sleeping, pretty girl? Do I need to go down there and put you to sleep or what?" Toji murmurs.

You giggle, quietly. "Maybe. I do get pretty tired after you make me cum."

"Yeah, you do," he says, proudly. "You wet, right now, mama?" Toji asks, already unknotting the drawstrings of your shorts.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" You say, your voice too soft for what you're inviting him to do. Still, Toji bites and leans in to kiss you as his hand slides down the front of your shorts and beneath your panties. His hand meets your pelvis and continues its downward path, until his fingertips reach the messiness of your slick-ridden cunt. He teases you with barely there flicks of his fingers to your clit.

Shiu's eyes widen the slightest bit, before his eyebrows furrow. He swears he just heard a moan coming from the bundle of blankets on the right side of the room.

"Stop touching each other," he says, irritation heavy in his tone. "Jesus," he grumbles. The one time he didn't bring his headphones, the one time his wife isn't there to let him do the same things to her, that Toji is doing to you. And you both just continue to ignore him.

Your hand comes down to palm at the prominent bulge in Toji's boxers. You can feel his clothed cock twitching in your hand after every gentle squeeze you offer to the thick length.

"Fuck, don't tease me like that, doll. Touch it." His body jerks slightly when you slide your hand down his boxers and wrap it around his sticky length. "Shit, your hands are freezing," he whispers, hissing at the coldness that meets his warm skin.

"You want me to keep going or not?" You ask, teasingly, not stopping the movement of your hand as you wait for him to respond.

"Nah, nah, you're getting warmer. Keep going."

You both think you're doing so well at muffling each other's sounds of pleasure with deep kisses, but the sounds of heavier breathing and constantly rustling sheets in the otherwise steady room, are a dead giveaway to your indecent acts. Shiu has to choose between suffering by being uncomfortably hot with the blanket bundled around his head to shut out the sounds, or being comfortable and suffering with the clear sounds of your sexual antics.

"Shh," Toji hushes, when you let out a little whimper. "Just keep kissing me."

Despite how intense the sensations are, you both keep going. Toji's fingers don't stop rubbing your clit, and your hand doesn't stop gliding up and down his cock. You're both treating the act of sharing a bed as you usually do when you're alone, despite the poor man trying to sleep one bed over.

It takes hearing an uncontained high pitched gasp for Shiu to kick off his blanket and jump out of bed with a grumble. He grabs his car keys off the table and puts on his slippers, directing himself towards the door. "Going to the store. You two better be done by the time I come back."

The second the heavy door shuts, clothes are being pulled at through impatient, all consuming kisses. It gets to the point where you actually have to slow down to get them off, because you aren't making any progress, but once it's all discarded of, absolutely no time is wasted. Your legs find refuge hooked over Toji's shoulders, and his hands home to your hips and your waist. You both freely make as much noise as you want as you indulge in each other like you really are home alone. Minutes unknowingly turned into an hour and after four intense orgasms, you've tired each other out. Toji gets out of bed to grab a towel to clean you and himself up, and once the cleanup process is done, both of you fall asleep, soundly.

Shiu comes back half an hour after you both fell asleep. He's empty handed, looking a little more disheveled than when he left the room, because "going to the store" was code for sitting in his car and having phone sex with his wife. He tip toes further into the room to see if you and Toji are sleeping, and when he sees the way Toji is spooning you with his face pressed to the nape of your neck, and the way your hand rests on the arm he has slinged around your waist, he shakes his head and lets out a small chuckle.

"Rabbits."

[em-ontv]

Get a room.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: After a particularly bad hunt, you were patching Dean up in the motel room, but he said he needed to be healed up the right way.

Content: fluff(?), kisses, Sam kind of being the third-wheel, no use of y/n, mentions of injury

English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: 698

You and Dean had just stumbled back to the bunker after a long, exhausting hunt. It was one of those hunts where everything that could go wrong, did. Dean had taken a hit from some nasty vamp, even after you told him to be careful, but Dean? Nah, that word wasn't in his vocabulary. And while he made no big deal of the gash, you knew it was serious enough to need a little patching up.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt off, grimacing slightly as you cleaned up the deep cut on his shoulder.

"Ow—! Careful," Dean grimaced, shooting you a mocking glare. "You trying to finish me off, sweetheart?"

"Quit being a baby," you shook your head. "You're lucky this didn't go deeper."

“I’m always lucky,” Dean responded, a smirk spreading across his face despite his slight wince when you dabbed the cloth on his wound again.

"Uh-huh. I should just leave you to bleed out next time, it would save me a whole lot of trouble." you muttered, beginning to bandage him up, nodding in approval of your work once you secured it.

Dean shifted, sighed, then flashed you a lopsided grin. "I think you missed a step, sweetheart."

"What step?" you raised an eyebrow, confused.

“For me to fully heal… there’s only one thing that’ll work.”

“What?" you almost rolled your eyes. "Lemme guess, whiskey and pie?”

He grinned wider. “Nope. Kisses. Specifically, from you. On my face. All over. Only way this wound’s gonna close up right.”

You snorted. “Right. Because that's definitely how medical science works.”

Dean winced dramatically. “You don’t believe me? It’s a foolproof healing method. I swear it.”

"C'mon, don't leave me hanging here—this is life or death." He added for good measure, tapping a finger to his cheek.

Despite yourself, you laughed. “You are so full of it, Winchester.”

“One kiss. Or like… fifty. But who's counting?” He shrugged.

You sighed, fully aware you were playing into his game but too tired to fight it. You leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, where his finger tapped relentlessly until you gave in.

“There you go,” Dean said, clearly pleased. “But you missed a spot—” He pointed to another area, so you kissed it too. “And there—” Another kiss. “And the forehead—” You kissed his forehead. “And—”

“Okay, Dean, that’s enough."

"Not enough. I can still feel the pain." He let out an over-the-top groan.

You sighed in exasperation, considering to either just punch him across the face or keep giving into him—you chose the latter.

Just as you were placing more kisses onto his face—the grin on his lips made him look like a love-drunk idiot—the door swung open.

Sam walked in with some takeout bags, he froze in the doorway, eyes widening as he took in the scene: you, practically sitting on Dean’s lap, showering his face with kisses, while Dean looked way too proud of himself.

“What did I just walk into?” Sam groaned, immediately making a beeline to the table to avoid getting another glance at the two of you.

"Hey, it's a part of the healing process, Sammy." Dean smirked, looking over to his brother.

Sam blinked, then made a face like he just swallowed something sour. “Gross. Seriously, guys, get a room.”

“We’re technically in a room, you know.” you said, getting off of Dean who seemed too reluctant to let you go.

"A room that you walked into." Dean added, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Sam set the food down, still shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, well, next time, maybe give me a warning first so I know not to come in while you guys are having a whole smooch-fest."

"You're just jealous."

"You two are impossible."

"Buzzkill."

Sam just groaned in annoyance again, starting to unpack the food.

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, feeling a bit guilty—though not that guilty. You glanced at Dean, who tugged on your hand with a happy expression.

"Next time, we're giving you painkillers." you said, lifting your hand up and running your finger through his hair.

"Not a chance." Dean smiled.

[verstappen-cult]

Max enjoys cockwarming

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. cockwarming. fluff. mentions of anxiety & mentions of sex.

It all started one night after one of his races. You hadn't seen each other for a few weeks due to a triple header and your own work. But you were able to find a weekend to drop by and surprise him.

He was surprised. And excited. You had a particularly hot make out session, with a little dry humping that left you both flustered when one of Red Bull's team members knocked on Max's door to let him know that he was needed for the National Anthem. After that, you didn't see much of him. He won, he looked like an angel on the top step of the podium with the sun shinning his face, and then was carried away by another team member for the interviews and debrief with his team. You didn't see each other again until later that night. Max was tired, barely standing, but a few kisses here and there were enough to have him moaning and whining because "I've missed being inside of you." and so you came up with an idea.

Max loves the feeling of you sitting on his lap, his cock buried deep inside of you, as he sits at his desk to read and answer some e-mails or attend meetings (with the camera turned off). He likes the feeling of connection and intimacy, the closeness that you two share. Max always makes sure you're comfortable by wrapping a blanket over your body and asking from time to time. He also makes sure you know you can stop it at any time you want — that's why you have a non-verbal safeword too. Max learned, after the third time you did it, that sometimes you can get a little lost inside your head, and verbal communication can be hard during those times; so, three taps on his shoulder is the signal for him to pull out or answer every time he asks you if you’re feeling good.

He finds it comforting. It helps him relax or focus when needed.

Most of your cuddling session consist of cuddling on the couch or in bed while one of your favorite movies or a new show plays as he slips inside of you.

And is not just Max that likes it. Sometimes he would be sitting on the couch reading or watching some of the past races while taking notes, and you would sit next to him, unzip his pants and put his cock in your mouth. Feeling the weight of his cock and the unique taste in your tongue helps you calm those anxious feelings you sometime don't know how to handle. Most of the time you fall asleep with his cock in your mouth while he keeps doing what he was doing in the first place. You don't know who enjoys the sensation more, if you or him.

It helps Max with his anxiety too. Some times when you're on your way to an event and Max can't stop fidgeting or tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, all you need to do is exchange a look to know whether he wants it or not. And, more often than not, you end up leaning over to pull the zipper down and slip his cock inside your mouth while he drives, one hand caressing your hair, fingers running through it or resting on your nape, from time to time.

Most times is about intimacy and feeling close than having sex. But there are times when you just can’t contain yourselves any longer. Max would thrust his hips up, taking your breath away, or you would start bobbing up and down, taking as much as you can in your mouth. It isn’t so rare for that to happen.

Max enjoys cockwarming.

He truly, really likes it.

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[the-flaneur]

scarlet fury (cl16)

pairing: dark!charles leclerc x sainz!reader

summary: following his explosive outburst on the radio, what better way to relieve his anger than by getting back at his teammate?

warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut ft. rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), hate sex, a little bit dubcon (but reader is still consenting), possessive!charles, charles using you (literally and figuratively) to fuck over carlos

wc: 2178

[masterlist] [requests]

as you nervously awaited the end of the race in the garage, you knew this weekend had not been good for your brother, or his teammate. practice had been all over the place, with the mercedes surprisingly looking as the fastest car so far this weekend (although lewis had told you in confidence that he was very concerned about the race pace and the tires) and the greatest attention was on max’s potential championship winning race.

however, as the race actually progressed through the garage screens, your heart sank.

your ferrari boys had somehow dropped behind max, and both mercedes, and when carlos’ mechanics refused to let him pit, you rolled your eyes at the camera which you knew had been panned towards you that very second. it was frankly frustrating at the very least, you thought, glaring daggers at the back of ricky’s head.

but when your brother’s pit lane shenanigans were being called out by sky sports, you sighed internally, watching him cut across the line before darting back out. and it only got worse when charles had gotten on the radio to berate your brother about fighting him on track. the battle for constructors was vital right now, and your brother was not making it any easier for them to stay in contention. eventually, as the ferraris rounded the last corner together, you let out a small grimace at the camera. 

charles’ furious outburst had left a trail of expletives echoing through the cockpit, he gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white. his face was twisted in anger, eyes narrowed to slits as he focused intently on the rear of carlos' ferrari ahead. the tension radiated off him like heat, every muscle coiled and ready to spring into action. meanwhile, carlos apparently to him, seemed oblivious to the commotion, his concentration solely on maintaining his position and crossing the finish line in third, securing a mercedes 1-2 and a ferrari for the podium.

as brian tried to calm charles down over the radio, his anger simmered dangerously beneath the surface, barely contained. when charles finally spoke, his voice was low and aggressive, each word dripping with venom. "tell carlos if he wants to play dirty, i'll show him what his face on the track looks like," charles growled, his gaze never leaving the road ahead. "i'll fuck him over." the threat hung heavy in the air, unspoken but unmistakable. charles' hands tightened further on the wheel, his knuckles cracking with the force. 

as soon charles slammed his car into parc ferme, he stormed out of the cockpit, his racing boots pounding the asphalt as he marched straight towards the garage area, pushing angrily passed ferrari personnel who were cheering and celebrating carlos. oh just how pissed off was he, you thought, his face was still flushed with anger. but when he glanced over towards you, there was an undeniable hunger burning in his eyes as they locked onto yours.

you were no stranger to charles’ passion, healthy or not. as carlos’ younger sister, you had attracted the attention of many young men and women, most of all being his very own teammate. although you had rebuffed charles’ advances at first, you were not immune to the monegasque's charm and had soon found yourself  sneaking behind carlos’ back to meet with him in hotels across the world.

without a word, he charged over to you silently, grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you into his driver’s room, locking the door shut behind you. in the dim light, charles pinned you against the table, his body pressed hard against yours as he claimed your mouth in a rough, demanding kiss. his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting you deeply as his hands roamed over your curves, grabbing and squeezing roughly.

now, consumed by fury and humiliation, charles was about to unleash his pent-up aggression upon you. his muscular frame loomed over yours as he stripped off his racing suit, revealing a chiseled torso glistening with sweat. he grabbed you from your thighs before seating you on the table, like a sacrifice ready for her god.

“charlie…” you whispered, nervously, watching him roughly push down his boxers, freeing his massive, throbbing erection. pre-cum drooled from the tip, glistening in the dim light. charles grabbed your ankles and pulled your legs apart, spreading you wide open for him.

"you think you're so smart, don't you?" charles hissed, his breath hot against your ear as he yanked your panties down your legs. "playing both sides, i’m fucking my teammate’s little sister... you're just a dirty little slut, aren't you?"

"you think you can handle this, princess?" he taunted, rubbing the swollen head against your slick entrance. "or are you just another pathetic little tease who can't take what she dishes out?"

with no warning, he thrust deep inside you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. a guttural moan escaped his lips as he savored the tight, scorching heat of your pussy gripping him like a vice. he began to pound into you mercilessly, each savage thrust jolting your body against the cold metal table.

"you think your precious brother deserved that podium?" charles growled, his voice low and menacing. without waiting for a response, he grabbed your thighs and yanked them apart, exposing your soaked pussy to the cool air. "i'm going to teach him a lesson he'll never forget."

charles roughly thrust his rigid cock deep inside your quivering cunt, not bothering with foreplay or gentleness. he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he began pounding into you with savage intensity, each brutal stroke punctuated by a grunt of exertion and rage. the table creaked ominously beneath you, its metal legs scraping against the floor with every powerful impact. your back arched, pressing your breasts against the unforgiving surface as charles relentlessly fucked you, his thick shaft stretching your tight walls to their limits.

"d-do you like this, you little slut?" charles snarled, his breath hot against your ear. "did you think i would let your brother get away with this? ruining my chances in the wdc?" he reached down to roughly pinch and twist your nipples, sending jolts of pain through your body that only heightened your arousal.

"nnngh... no, please..." you managed to gasp out, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and desperate need. you knew you were at his mercy, completely powerless under his dominant grasp. charles continued to ruthlessly pound into your dripping wet pussy, his aggressive thrusts causing the table to shake violently. 

"no? then why are you so fucking wet, huh?" he sneered, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you in place for his relentless fucking. despite your protests, your body betrayed you, responding eagerly to the brutal pounding from charles. 

"shut up and take it," charles barked, his grip on your hips tightening as he increased his pace. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the small room, mingling with your muffled moans and whimpers. "this is what happens when people cross me."

“but i didn’t,” you whined as charles fingers sank deeper into your ass, gripping hard enough to leave bruises as he continued to rut into you mercilessly. his thick cock stretched your tight pussy to its limits, the forceful thrusts causing you to cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"you're damn right you didn't!" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "but you're going to pay for your brother's sins nonetheless." with each brutal stroke, he punctuated his words, driving home the lesson he intended to teach.

despite your feeble protests, your body responded shamefully to the treatment, your inner walls clenching around him as if begging for more. the lewd sounds of your sex filled the air, a symphony of grunts, slaps, and muffled moans that seemed to spur charles on.he stepped back, his massive erection bobbing angrily before him. with a cruel smirk, charles grasped your ankles and flipped you onto your stomach, your face pressed against the cold metal of the table. "so i get to use you however i want, since your precious brother screwed me over."

without further warning, charles drove his thick cock back into your dripping folds from behind, slamming into you with unbridled ferocity. his heavy balls slapped against your clit with each merciless thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your sensitive body. charles' relentless pounding sent waves of intense pleasure coursing through your battered body, each brutal thrust pushing you closer to the brink of ecstasy. despite the harsh treatment, your cunt clung greedily to his pistoning cock, desperate for more of the rough, punishing friction.

as charles continued to rail you from behind, his meaty hands slid up your sides to roughly palm your small tits, pinching and twisting your sensitive nipples until they throbbed in time with your racing heartbeat. "you love this, don't you, you filthy little cumslut?" he taunted, his hot breath washing over the back of your neck.

"ahhhn... oh god, yes! i-i love it!" you panted out, voice strained with a mix of pleasure and humiliation. each brutal thrust of charles' thick cock sent shockwaves of ecstasy through you quivering body. your hips bucked involuntarily, meeting his punishing strokes as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. moan after moan spilled from your lips, a litany of wanton pleasure that only fueled charles' dominance.

"mmmph... harder, please! fuck me harder, charles!" you begged, pussy clenching greedily around him, milking his cock for every drop of seed as you teetered on the brink of a mind-shattering orgasm.

"that's it, scream for me," he growled, his voice a dark rumble in your ear, "let everyone hear you scream my name, you dirty little slut!" charles commanded, his voice low and menacing as he gripped your hips tighter. "i want carlos and the whole motorhome to know who's dominating your needy and pathetic cunt right now."

your cries of pleasure rang out, echoing off the garage walls as charles pounded into you relentlessly. "yes, yes, fuck! ahh, i'm yours, charles! only yours!" you wailed, the shameless declarations spilling from your lips as you lost yourself to the intense sensation of being thoroughly claimed.

as your body tensed and trembled, charles buried himself to the hilt one final time, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he unleashed a torrent of hot seed deep within your spasming depths. "take it all, you dirty whore,"

he spat the words out in a guttural snarl, his hips jerking erratically as he emptied his balls into your willing pussy. the sensation of charles' thick cum flooding your insides triggered a powerful climax, your pussy clenching rhythmically around his spurting cock as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you.

as the aftershocks subsided, charles slowly pulled out, his softening member leaving a trail of sticky fluid dripping down your thighs. he stepped back, admiring his handiwork – your ravaged body, marked by the signs of his brutal possession.

"well, that should teach your brother a lesson," charles said with a satisfied smirk, tucking his spent cock back into his racing suit. "now get dressed and get out of here before i decide to punish you some more."

as the overwhelming sensations of charles’ battering against your swollen pussy finally caught up with you, your vision blurred and you felt yourself slipping into unconsciousness. the last thing you registered was charles' strong arms scooping you up and carrying you out of his cramped driver's room.

some time later, you found yourself lying on a plush bed in an darkened room, your head throbbing and your body aching in all the right places. groggily, you opened your eyes to see charles standing beside the bed, a smug expression on his face. 

"i brought you here because i thought your brother might appreciate the... gift," he said, holding out a piece of paper. it was a handwritten note, scrawled in bold letters: "for carlos sainz jr., signed charles leclerc. consider this a taste of what your sister can dish out. next time, keep your hands to yourself on track."

charles dropped the note on the bedside table with a smirk, clearly pleased with himself. "i figured he'd get the message loud and clear," he said, leaning against the dresser with a casual air. "maybe next time he'll think twice before trying to steal my glory again."

he glanced down at your disheveled form, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "you look like you could use a rest after our little encounter. just remember, what happens on track, stays on track... unless i decide to bring it back to the pits, of course."

with that parting jab, charles turned and sauntered out of the room, leaving you to ponder the arousing turn of events and the lingering ache between your thighs. the note seemed to burn a hole in the tabletop, a tangible reminder of the stormy passion that had erupted between two teammates in las vegas.

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Only The Lonely - Bucky | Oneshot

Summary: Late at night, the last train is Bucky’s escape from the chaos of his life—quiet and predictable. It’s his only peaceful moment. But when a stranger’s simple kindness interrupts his routine, what starts as an annoyance slowly turns into something unexpected.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Action, Comedy, Slice Of Life

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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By the way I publish my book Arrogant Ex Husband in Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

1:00 a.m.

The last train of the night. The final hour before the city sleeps, when the world quiets and only a few remain in motion. Most passengers at this hour are creatures of necessity—night-shift workers dragging their tired bodies home, partygoers sobering up after a wild night, travelers in transit, students cramming for exams, or employees finishing late.

And then, there are the unpredictable ones. The lost souls.

It’s the perfect way to describe him. Bucky.

His job makes his life unpredictable—demanding, stressful, suffocating. Every day feels like it’s crushing him, the weight of expectations pressing down on his chest until it’s hard to breathe. But this train ride, the one just before the clock strikes 1:00 a.m., is his sanctuary.

It’s the only time his mind is blissfully empty. The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels on the tracks is a comfort—steady, reliable, unlike the chaos of his day. He listens to the low hum of the engine, the occasional screech as the train rounds a curve. He likes the way the train sways, how it rocks him gently, as if coaxing him to let go of his thoughts.

Most importantly, he likes being alone.

But tonight is different.

When he steps into the nearly empty car and heads to his usual seat, someone is already sitting there.

Have you ever felt that irritation when someone rearranges your kitchen and you can’t find the salt? That’s how Bucky feels. A simmering annoyance, irrational but undeniable.

He grits his teeth but says nothing. It’s public transportation—he has no right to be mad. Instead, he silently takes the seat across from the stranger, determined to ignore them.

At first, you don’t notice him bristling across from you. You’re relieved to see another person, especially this late at night. You’ve never liked taking the last train—it’s eerie when you’re alone—but it’s cheaper than a taxi, and money is tight. Working as a hotel chef is exhausting, and every penny counts.

“Oh, thank goodness. I was starting to think I’d be the only one on this train,” you say, offering a polite smile, hoping to make conversation.

Bucky doesn’t respond. He barely glances at you, his eyes dark and tired, fixed on the window as if willing the world outside to distract him. His shoulders are tense, his jaw set in a silent refusal to engage.

You sense his exhaustion and decide not to push. He’s tired, you think. Maybe next time.

The Next Night. When Bucky steps onto the train, he immediately spots you. Sitting in the same seat as before.

He exhales sharply through his nose, rolling his eyes. Not again.

As if sensing his presence, you look up and wave. It’s a small, friendly gesture. Bucky doesn’t wave back—he just nods, a curt, obligatory acknowledgment. He doesn’t want to be rude, but he also doesn’t want to encourage conversation.

The train ride is quiet, but Bucky’s peace is shattered.

The Third Night. This time, you both arrive at the station at the same time.

You smile when you see him. “Hey! We’re train buddies now,” you say cheerfully as you walk side by side toward the platform.

Bucky scoffs, a quiet, dry sound, but there’s no real malice in it. He glances at you briefly and catches the faint scent of caramel. It clings to you, sweet and warm, a stark contrast to the cold, metallic smell of the train station.

You’re talking about something—your day at work, maybe—but he’s not really listening. He’s too focused on keeping his distance.

Then, it happens.

A loud, unmistakable growl from his stomach.

The sound cuts through the quiet, echoing in the empty station.

You stop mid-sentence, blinking in surprise. Bucky clears his throat, his ears burning with embarrassment. He tries to appear nonchalant, but the redness creeping up his neck betrays him.

You stifle a giggle. “Looks like someone needs a snack.”

Bucky shoots you a glare, but there’s no heat in it. Just the begrudging realization that, for better or worse, you’ve become part of his routine.

You didn’t make a big deal of it—you simply reached into your bag and pulled something out. Holding it out to him, you offered, “Here, you can have this. We made too much in the kitchen today.”

Bucky glanced at the box in your hand. Before he could refuse, you added, “It’s monkey bread.” His gaze softened. It had been a long time since he’d had monkey bread. Hesitating for a moment, he finally took it. “Thank you.”

The sound of his voice surprised you—low and slightly raspy from exhaustion. It made you light up, a warm smile spreading across your face. “You’re welcome.”

The next evening, you boarded the train with a small container of cookies and handed it to him without a word. He didn’t say much, but the quiet kindness in your gesture spoke louder than words.

A few nights later, you offered him a neatly packaged serving of beef Wellington. “I can’t eat all this myself,” you said with a casual shrug. Bucky took it, feeling the warmth of the box seep into his cold hands. He wanted to say something but found himself at a loss for words, so he simply nodded, offering you a faint smile.

Then came fish and chips. “You’ll like this one,” you said, placing the box in his hands before settling into your seat. “It’s fresh.” Bucky chuckled softly, the sound almost foreign to him. He wasn’t used to this—someone thinking of him, sharing without expecting anything in return.

Day after day, you brought something new. Each time, he accepted it, and each time, he found himself looking forward to the brief exchange. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him.

“Why do you give me food every time we meet?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion as he studied you from across the train.

You shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. “I just like sharing. Aren’t we train buddies?”

Your simple response caught him off guard. For a moment, Bucky was stunned. No ulterior motive, no hidden agenda. In your eyes, he was just a friend.

“I owe you,” he muttered, glancing away.

“It’s just extra food,” you said with a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

That was the longest conversation Bucky had with another person, aside from those at his job. He thought only silence could bring him peace, but he realized that having friends could bring him peace too.

Then one day, you weren’t there.

He convinced himself it didn’t matter. Maybe you found a better job. Good for you.

But the train rides felt emptier. No chatter about your coworkers. No light-hearted complaints about your boss. No extra food in hand, given with that easy smile.

Something didn’t feel right.

Bucky found himself standing in front of the five-star hotel where you worked. He recognized the logo from the packaging you used. After asking a kitchen staff member about you, he was met with a puzzled look.

“She’s on the night shift. I’ve never met her,” the staff member said, scratching his head. “But I can ask my manager.”

Bucky nodded. “Thank you.”

Minutes later, the staff member returned, his expression more serious.

“She quit two weeks ago,” he explained. “Apparently, some guy came in and caused a scene—flipped a table, yelled about debt or something. The next day, she quit.”

Bucky’s heart sank. His chest tightened, and breathing felt harder.

Debt?

All this time, he thought you were the bright, carefree soul who brought light into his monotonous life. But now, he realized—you were the one hurting. Hiding behind your kindness.

He swallowed hard. “Thank you… and I’m sorry for bothering you.”

The staff member gave him a sympathetic nod.

Bucky walked out of the hotel, the weight of the truth pressing down on him. I never even asked…

He clenched his fists. He didn’t know anything about you—not your struggles, not your pain. But one thing was clear: He needed to find you.

👩‍🍳👩‍🍳👩‍🍳👩‍🍳

Bucky walked into his office during the morning shift—a time when he was rarely seen. Heads turned, confusion spreading among his coworkers as they whispered to each other. Bucky Barnes, the man who thrived in the shadows, was suddenly here in broad daylight.

“Is he… actually here in the morning?” one agent murmured.

“Maybe he couldn’t sleep,” another offered, but their eyes widened when they saw Bucky heading straight for the weapons locker.

The boss, a tall man with graying hair and a perpetual frown, stepped into the room just in time to see Bucky zipping up a weapon bag. His expression shifted from confusion to concern.

“Uhhh… Barnes, where are you going?” the boss asked, his hand resting on the doorframe as if blocking Bucky’s path.

Bucky didn’t pause. He slung the bag over his shoulder, his face unreadable. “Helping a buddy.”

The boss blinked. “Oh…” He nodded slowly, then frowned. “Wait. Who’s your buddy?”

“A train buddy,” Bucky said without missing a beat, securing the bag and striding past him.

The boss opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, watching Bucky disappear down the hall with a perplexed expression. “A train buddy?”

👩‍🍳👩‍🍳👩‍🍳👩‍🍳👩‍🍳

The basement was cold and damp, the air thick with the stench of mold and oil. The dim light from a single flickering bulb cast long shadows across the concrete floor.

In the center of the room, you sat tied to a chair, your wrists chafed from the rough rope binding you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the group of gangsters lounging around, their faces hardened with cruelty.

One of them—a tall man with a scar running down his cheek—stood before you, arms crossed. “Your brother owes us a lot of money,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And guess what? We don’t care where it comes from. You’re gonna pay it.”

Your voice trembled as you shook your head. “I don’t have the money. I told you, I don’t—”

The scarred man sighed, rubbing his temples as if dealing with a stubborn child. “Put her in liquid cement,” he said, his tone casual, like he was ordering a drink. “Then throw her into the sea.”

Your blood ran cold. Panic surged through you, and you pulled against the ropes, your breaths coming in short gasps. “No. No! God, please, no! Help!”

The men laughed, their footsteps echoing as they approached.

Then—darkness.

The flickering light went out, plunging the basement into complete blackness.

“What the hell?” one of the gangsters muttered.

Suddenly, the sound of a struggle erupted—thuds, grunts, the sharp crack of bones breaking. One by one, the gangsters fell. Some screamed in pain; others were silenced before they could make a sound.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your body trembling as the chaos unfolded around you. What’s happening?

Then—silence.

A familiar voice cut through the darkness, calm and steady. “You’re safe. Open your eyes.”

Your eyes flew open, heart racing. You blinked, adjusting to the faint light as the basement door creaked open, spilling in a sliver of light from the stairwell.

Standing in front of you, weapon in hand, was Bucky. His dark hair fell into his eyes, his jaw clenched in determination.

Your breath hitched. “Bucky?”

He moved quickly, crouching in front of you and cutting the ropes that bound your wrists and ankles. His hands were steady, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—concern.

As the ropes fell away, you flexed your stiff wrists, the lingering ache a reminder of how close you had come to disaster. “Why are you here? How did you find me?”

“Aren’t we train buddies?” he asked, his voice low and steady as if the answer mattered more than he let on.

You blinked, your chest tightening with a mix of relief and gratitude. Despite the chaos, despite the fear, here he was—your train buddy. Slowly, you nodded, a small, trembling smile forming on your lips.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “We are.”

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MDNI

Warnings: Accusation of Infedelity, heavily unedited writing (wrote this in a power outage in my notes app xx), fingering, eating pussy, dirty talk, dumbification if you squint REALLY hard.

One message is all it took for you to spiral.

Outrage was an understatement. A month, a single month, into Price’s deployment you had recieved a message from an unknown number. They insisted of Price having an affair with his so-called ‘receptionist.’ Being his wife, you didnt believe it. You and John had been married for years now. He wasnt that kind of man! (You hoped.)

Weeks passed and wheels start turning. Seeds of doubt had started digging into you. The late nights he had stayed at base before his deployment, only sending as much as a quick text of ‘Be home late. Dont wait up.’ Or the necessary secrecy between what happens at his job or deployment were starting to plant ideas in your head you wouldnt have ever had if not for that message. Youre being worn down, and its killing you. Its not like you could ask him; being thousands of kilometres away without any time to do as much as glance at his phone.

So the emotional resentment grew. You find yourself wondering how he could do this to you, crying in your empty home that housed the both of you not long ago. Before you even come to terms with it, Youve packed your bags and lawyered up, letting your resentment fester for far to long without any outside input.

On the third month of Prices deployment, you drive yourself up to base with one intention; leave the divorce papers on his desk to find when he comes back and to leave without confrontation.

Security on base knows you as ‘Price’s missus’ by now, offering a small wave and a smile as you walk by and into your husbands office. You put the papers on his desk, that frustration and hurt bubbling up all over again. He has your wedding photo framed on his desk and it only hurts more. What did you do to deserve this?

You turn to go, heading back towards his door when you hear muffled laughter and the sounds of gear being unzipped and dumped from down the hallway. Theyre back. You pick up the pace, praying you can slip out before he gets close enough to notice. You reach for the door handle, but the door opens before you can even grasp it.

Shit.

And there he is, your eyes drinking in the sight of the awfully more rugged version of your husband; beard outgrown and messy with tired eyes that light up at the sight of you.

That light dies as soon as sees just how mad you look.

“So youre telling me, one message is all it took to lose all fucking faith?” Price practically growls, fingers rubbing at his temples. Hes sat in his chair with you on the other side of his desk, just as furious. “Everything makes sense! The staying late at base, the short messages and lack of updates when your deployed!” You hiss, frustration bubbling over making anything small seem huge.

Price takes a deep breath, a futile attempt to calm his temper. “The shit I deal with doesnt sleep. Theres reasons i stay back that you will never know, love. The law itself, wont let me tell you. Same goes for messages. Im sorry i dont have the time to let you know im okay when im deployed, god knows i wish I did.” He scowls, his gaze so heated and intense that you almost look away despite your own fury.

“And what about this receptionist huh?”

Your tone has changed, soft and shaky. vunerable.

Price’s expression softens, but he doesnt say a word, simply rounding his desk to pluck you out of your own chair and putting you down in his office chair. He sinks to his knees in front of you, hands rested on your thighs. Blue eyes peer up at you, sickeningly sincere. “Love, I dont interact with her unless necessary. This isnt some romance movie bullshit.” Your heart is working overtime, lips parted as guilt bubbles. “You- you understand where my doubt is coming from, though…right? Everything lined up perfectly, and-“

Price simply tuts. “We’ve talked about that pretty little head of yours overthinking too much, havent we?” You freeze, throat drying. You nod. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Yes-“ you croak. “We have.”

Price grunts in approval, his hands now running up and down your thighs.

“Have you been feeling neglected, hm? Is that it? My sweet wife needs some attention?” Price rumbles, his large, calloused hands that have been marked by countless battles now playing with the hem of your skirt.

“You’ve got my attention now, luvie. No need to play these stupid games with me.”

Your mind is already growing hazy; your husbands words making you almost want to forget about this whole incident. A finger hooks onto the waistband of your panties, bringing you back to the moment.

“Stupid games? John i was prepared to divorce you-“ he shushes you, dragging your underwear down your thighs, then your calves and over your shoes before slipping them into his pocket. A cheeky smile graces his face. stupid muttonchops.

“Must’ve left you alone for far too long then, if you were willing to take it this far.”

He slings your legs over his impossibly large shoulders, making you squeak as your pulled forward on the chair.

“Wouldve come home and fucked those stupid thoughts straight out of your head if i had known you were having doubts about my loyalty, sweetheart.”

He presses a messy kiss to your clit, making you gasp. He grumbles something incoherent (“Me? Cheat? Silly girl.”), before licking a long stripe up your neglected cunt, causing your hips to buck. The taste of you after going months without has price groaning into your heat. He eats like a man starved, a mix of desire to prove his loyalty and that he finally gets to taste his wife after being away for so long.

Hes fuming, really. Toward you? No.

Towards whatever stupid bastard sent you that message. He’s glad you didnt notice him slip your phone in his pocket, because he knew you’d be against him hunting the fucker down. You just need a distraction to keep that pretty little head thinking too hard. And he’ll give you just that.

“Oh, my poor sweet wife…” He grunts, before sucking on your clit with a renewed fevor. He pulls off with a lewd pop, two thick fingers replacing his previous ministrations. You’re squirming in his office chair, mind hazy and hips bucking.

“Thinkin’ I was out here cheating on ya’… you know better, love.” He tuts.

His fingers curl so nicely into that spongey spot that makes you see stars. “M sorry-“ you’d slur, “I didnt believe it when I first saw the message I promise-“ you gasp as price presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing in small tight circles.

“Lovie, you stormed in here with divorce papers. Dont tell me you didn’t believe it.”

Your head tilts back as you pant, small gasps slipping past your lips.

“There we go.” Price coaxes, his fingers picking up their pace.

“Wouldnt even cross my mind to look at another woman when my gorgeous girl looks like that as I stuff her cunt full of my fingers.” He coos, watching your face intently as your release crashes down; intense enough to make you writhe and moan.

Price pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean before getting up off his knees. Your throat runs dry, bracing for whats to come even as you grapple your bearings. You’re mentally preparing for Price to be dissapointed, upset with you, maybe even mad.

He analyzes your expression, leaning back against his desk. His eyes scrape over your small form sat in his chair.

“Im not upset, love. That pretty little head of yours had months to overthink that message without a voice of reason.”

Price tilts your chin up.

“Lets just not have to do this again, hm? Then i’ll be mad.”

Its sounds like a threat, but it isnt. Price knows he’ll always be there to talk his beloved wife down from the edge.

[hannieehaee]

HI!! how are you??

do you mind doing a poly seventeen relationship with vernon and chan and they spoil her alot?? (smut tho)

thank you!! i love you and your blog <3

18+ / mdi

content: bf!vernon and bf!chan, smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), handjob, mentions of m receiving oral, mentions of shower sex, etc.

wc: 886

a/n: i couldn't help but write them bickering bc i i just know they totally would in real life.

masterlist

"dude, what the fuck? i thought you guys were going to work today. hyung, you literally have a solo song coming up!"

chan's whines were not enough to get you to stop kissing vernon's neck as you cuddled into him on the couch, nor where they enough for vernon, apparently. his hands were very intent on feeling every inch of your tits, something which you did not want chan to take away from you.

"just did some recording from the home studio," was all vernon said in reply, hands now reaching your ass to pull you on top of him, lips finding yours in a kiss.

"i will not be a third wheel in my own home," he grumbled, "move over, you've had her all day."

he made his way to the couch, sitting on the other side of you as he fought vernon for your attention. after a bit of back and forth, vernon gave you one last kiss before leaving you in chan's arms, pleased enough to have had you to himself all day.

it's not like chan and vernon never shared you at the same time, but they just so happened to both be a little possessive. they preferred to take turns to ensure they could each be fully satisfied. and you? you had no complaints.

"i'm gonna go make some hoco. want some, baby?" he asked as he headed to the kitchen.

"mm, yes, nonnie," you interrupted a heady kiss from chan to respond.

"for me too!," said the aforementioned boy before kissing you again.

vernon chuckled and shook his head as he left, taking note that he should probably ask you to shower with him later. he wanted the last word after chan had his way with you.

~

"oh, but this is fine? weren't you complaining we took a day off without you literally yesterday?"

now it was vernon's turn to walk in on you and chan. however, this time you were located in the bedroom, with chan deep between your legs as you sat at the edge of the bed.

"sorry, baby. i might've convinced him to stay home since you'd be gone today," you mumbled in between gasps.

"c'mere, baby. my hand is all yours," you gestured him to sit next to you as your other hand held onto chan's head, leading his movements against your cunt.

vernon needed no further encouragement, undoing his pants as he walked over to bed and took a seat next to you, kissing you and letting his hands feel up your tits as you began working him with your own hand — god, he really was a boob guy.

"mmm, missed you today," he hummed between kisses.

"me more, nonn- ah! sorry, channie, fuck, you're being so good for me, baby."

wordlessly, he had demanded for attention while his tongue was deep in you. it was the classic competition for your affection.

"fuck, baby, keep doing that. gonna fuck you later, okay? fuck you to sleep, shit, yeah?", mumbled vernon against your lips. his orgasm was close, you could hear it in his voice. he must've been tired from practicing all day.

"mhm, shit. please," you pleaded before turning your attention to the other boy, "channie, shit, 'm gonna cum soon."

he murmured incoherent words into your folds, nose nudging a particularly sensitive spot as he sped up. you were so into your own pleasure you hadn't realized the poor boy had been using your shoe to hump in order to release his own tension.

you hoped he wouldn't cum from it. you had way better plans for him as soon as you got vernon off with your hand.

a high pitched cry was the last thing you voiced against vernon's lips, soon followed by his own grunts of pleasure as he dirtied your hand with his spunk. he was insistent in kissing you throughout both your orgasms, sometimes not even landing on your lips, but still within the ballpark. it was a disorganized mess, as it usually was with vernon.

chan waited patiently until the two of you got a fill of each other. he'd been enjoying the show you and vernon gave him, lip caught in his teeth up until he reached up to you and stole you away from vernon, instead giving you a taste of yourself through the remnants of his lips.

"stop, i'm the one you should be kissing right now," he complained as vernon chuckled beside you, getting up to get a rag to clean himself with.

"i know, channie," you coo'd, "i'll make it up to you, okay, baby?"

getting up, you held out your hand for him with a smile, leading him to the restroom connected to your room. before entering, you turned back to vernon, nodding at him to follow along and giggling when he lit up at the invitation.

"i'll suck off whoever washes my hair," you proposed once in the bathroom.

you were met with a whiny back and forth between both men, insisting they were the best at washing your hair and that the other had already gotten more than enough attention from you.

in the end, it didn't really matter. you had more than enough in you to satisfy both of them. you just liked to see them bicker over you.

[theyluvkarolina]

hi

could you pls write a smau about a gymnast and lando

౨ৎHATE YOU LESS, LOVE YOU MORE౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ y/n and lando hate each other. at least that’s what they want people to think. actually, they are in a relationship with each other

PAIRING ౨ৎ lando norris x gymnast!fem!reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ none!

FACE CLAIM ౨ৎ Sunisa Lee

A/N ౨ৎ a lot of lando love on my account lately! might make that change 😊😊 also, ik sunisa is team usa but for the sake of the story pretend she is for britain 🥹

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n ✔︎

liked by simonebiles, olympics, nike, and others

y/n_l/n So excited to represent Britain for Paris 2024! 🇬🇧 the new leo smacks 😵‍💫😵‍💫

2,346 comments

username1 SHE’S BACK!!

username2 i keep forgetting she is british and not from the usa 😭

→ username3 SHE’S NOT?? → username4 nope! she goes to college in the usa for the gymnastics program but she is a british citizen :) → username5 my life has been a lie

landonorris ✔︎ it’s not your colour tbh 🫤 🫤

→ y/n_l/n ✔︎ neither is orange but here we are 🤷‍♀️ → oscarpiastri ✔︎ oh god here we go → landonorris ✔︎ @ y/n_l/n it’s papaya actually → y/n_l/n ✔︎ “it’s papaya actually “ 🤓 ☝️ → landonorris ✔︎ your not funny → y/n_l/n ✔︎ *you’re → oscarpiastri @ mclaren media train this man. i'm at my limit. → username6 can anyone explain why they hate each other so much?? 😭 → username7 nvm that, someone send oscar help that hes screaming for

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n ✔︎

liked by lilyzniemer, oscarpiastri, livvydunne, and others

y/n_l/n olympics are underway 👀

1,985 comments

landonorris ✔︎ i hope you fall

→ y/n_l/n ✔︎ what a supportive companion 😍 love you lan 😘 → landonorris ✔︎ i hate you too 😘 😘 → username8 these guys have no chill bro 😭

lilyzniemer the heart 🫶

→ y/n_l/n ✔︎ for my best girl ❤️ → oscarpiastri ✔︎ excuse you? → y/n_l/n ✔︎ you are excused.

username10 seriously, does anyone know why lando and y/n don’t like each other?? they are from such polar opposite sports 😭

username11 i heard from somewhere that they were friends in school but had a falling out for some reason… might be due to their respective sports.

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n ✔︎

liked by lando.jpeg, jadecarey, lindsayhoran, and others

y/n_l/n rest and relaxation 😴

3,001 comments

username12 UHMMM…

username13 Miss Y/N L/N. Who the fuck is that man?

landonorris did you save croissant for me?

→ y/n_l/n ✔︎ i did actually → landonorris then where is it 🤨 → y/n_l/n ✔︎ ready to be shoved up your fucking ass → mclaren ✔︎ i’m tired. → username14 HELP NOT THE MCLAREN ADMIN BEING OVER THEM. → landonorris ✔︎ :( → username15 THE SAD FACE 😭😭 → username16 anyone else find it strange lando isn’t commenting about the guy in the photos? i mean he teases her all the time and to just have nothing now is so strange → username17 stay delusional!!

username16 lando.jpeg like??? 🤨📸

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris ✔︎

liked by mclaren, carlosainz55, maxfewtrell, and others

landonorris J'adore Paris 🥐

3,670 comments

username17 i think lando is loving something else other than paris…

→ landonorris ✔︎ no

username18 THE MUSEUM DATE?? 🙁🙁

username19 idk who that girl is but i wish i was her 😕

y/n_l/n ✔︎ the bucket hats need to be retired.

→ landonorris ✔︎ uhhhmm??? no?? some guy said i look handsome. → y/n_l/n ✔︎ was the man a figment of your imagination? → landonorris ✔︎ rude 😒

maxfewtrell ✔︎ upset i don’t get any picture credits. i was the third wheel for nothing.

username20 WHO IS THAT GIRL??

username21 i’m telling you guys it’s y/n and when they reveal it they will be laughing in our faces.

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n ✔︎

liked by landonorris, lauriehernandez, alyraisman, and others

y/n_l/n better than gold 🩷🥇

tagged ; landonorris

2,560 comments

username22 WHAT ON EARTH

→ username23 IS GOING ON → username24 IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS

oscarpiastri ✔︎ what in the world.

→ username25 HELPP → username26 i think oscar finally lost it 😭😭

carlosainz55 ✔︎ put a jumpscare warning next time 😢

→ landonorris ✔︎ sorry mate, if you’re on her account you’ll be seeing her quite a lot → carlosainz55 ✔︎ yeah! i totally meant Y/N! → landonorris ✔︎ 🤨 → y/n_l/n ✔︎ HAHA POINT AND LAUGH EVERYONE!

landonorris ✔︎

liked by y/n_l/n, charles_leclerc, f1, and others

landonorris she’s a little weird and kind of mean to me but i love her 🙃

tagged ; y/n_l/n

3,734 comments

username27 IT’S CONFIRMED GUYS!!

username28 more y/nlando content ??? it really is the best day ever.

y/n_l/n ✔︎ i’m not mean 🙁🙁

→ landonorris you literally made me choke on my spaghetti. → y/n_l/n ✔︎ because you were outstanded by my beauty 😍 → landonorris ✔︎ maybe i was 🫶 → y/n_l/n ✔︎ stop i’m blushing 🫣🩷 → osarpiastri ✔︎ i missed it when you two together was a secret. → landonorris ✔︎ someone is grumpy. @ y/n_l/n get lily to call him so he stops being a baby → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ didn’t you cry when she got the first place medal? → landonorris ✔︎ didn’t you retire from the australian gp? → username29 SHOTS FIRED 😭 → username30 sassy lando is back → y/n_l/n ✔︎ oh sweetheart, he sadly never left. → landonorris ✔︎ sadly??

[darkbluekies]

Yandere Silas x male reader bodyguard. Relationship:romantic

You and him grew up together in the mafia, Silas fell in love with you but you only saw him as a friend and he ends up falling in love with a girl and this makes you leave the mafia to go abroad with her to live a normal life.

Silas has contacts all over the world and discovers that you are in a country abroad, he kills the girl and kidnaps you

Be mine (you have no fucking choice)

Yandere!mafia oc x male!bodyguard!reader

Summary: after being friends with Silas for years, you decide that it is time to pack it up and leave, much to Silas’s dismay.

Warnings: criminal stuff, throwing up, getting drunk by force, ropes, cage, mentions of sleeping around, violence, alcohol

Word count: 4.3k

You put your gun into your belt and get out of the warehouse. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Silas asks and grabs your arm. 

“I’m going home”, you say. “This mission doesn’t interest me.”

You try to walk, but Silas hurries in front of you, blocking your way. He almost reminds you of the little, stubborn boy he once was when he does that. 

“Wait”, he says. “You never drive well after a mission. You have too much adrenaline. You and I can leave together. I can drive you to my house.”

“No, Silas, I’m going home.”

Silas doesn’t react to you calling him by his first name. But he never has. You are special. Only one other person in his entire organization can call him by his first name without getting a bullet through their eyes — that person being his second in command. You and his second in command have known Silas longer than anyone else. You’d dare call his second in command your friend too, although on a more professional level. 

You’ve known Silas longer than his second in command has, and you’ve known his little brother, Ares … and you’ve known about his jealousy for a very long time. It started when you one day went home with his brother to play video games after shool. Next day when you entered school, his brother had a black eye and Silas had not left your side for the entire day. 

It only got worse from there, but you never did anything. You tried to talk to him, but it seemed like the years made him even more jealous. He dated girls time and time again, but created a big fuss when you showed the slightest interest in anyone — be that boy or girl. You became the third wheel in SIlas’ multiple relationships.

He did admit to his love for you, just a few years ago, but you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. It would make everything harder. You were basically working for him as his bodyguard and didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him. Losing him as a friend could mean both mental distress … and physical harm. 

“Does this have anything to do with the girl I’m dating?” Silas asks. 

You look baffled. “No? Why would you think that?”

“Because she’s at the house?”

“No, I just want to go home”, you sigh heavily. “Why do I have to explain my every step to you? You’re not my father, come on.”

“Because I’m worried about you.”

“What a great look for you, mister mafia leader. Don't let anyone else see that.” You nod at him to move. “Move out of the way now, I’m tired and I’m hungry. I want to go home and order a fucking pizza.”

“So this has nothing to do with my girlfriend?”

“What's the matter with you? Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I'm not interested in you, you know that.”

You push past him.

A month passes. You have been seriously thinking about leaving the mafia for a long time now, but ever since Silas got himself yet another girlfriend it became clear that you have to leave, if you ever want to get yourself one of your own. As long as you stay with him, he will never let you date anyone — apart from him, of course. 

You’ve decided to move abroad. While packing your bags, you feel tears run down your cheeks. You have known Silas for as long as you can remember. You love to be with him, he is your best friend. Betraying him would mean betraying yourself, and his entire organization. People who betray him gets killed personally by Silas. Neither you or Silas would want that.

However, leaving without anyone noticing would be hard. Silas would know that something was wrong right away and he would use his contacts to find you again. You’d need help with creating false documents … and you knew just the man to help with that. 

You hold the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” a familiar voice asks. 

“Hi, Ares”, you say. 

“How the fuck did you get my number?”

“I did some digging.”

“Holy fuck, Y/N, you need help.”

You chuckle and hear how Ares chuckles in return. 

“What did you want?” he asks. 

“I need some help.” You look around, feeling like you’re being watched, which wouldn't be very far off. “Can we meet up?”

“Sure. Now?”

“If you can.”

“Yeah, I’m not busy.”

You decide to meet up at a café an hour away from your house, hoping that Silas’s associates wouldn’t recognize you here. You couldn’t believe that you would meet Ares again, you haven't seen him since you were teenagers. He looks the same, just a bit more grown up. 

“My brother finally removed the leash around your neck?” Ares chuckles and hugs you. 

“No, not really”, you sigh. “This is why I need your help. I know that you scam tight about everyone. And I need you to help me create false documents, passport … yeah, you name it.”

Ares smirks.

“Little Y/N is going on vacation, I see”, he says. “Where are you going?”

“I don't know.”

“Are you trying to get away from my brother?”

You nod. Ares seems to think for a moment. 

“Go to Spain”, he says. “Silas is banned from there, he won't be able to get you.”

“Ah, I feel so bad about it, though”, you sigh and run your hands through your hair. “He's my best friend. And boss, technically. If I leave, I betray both my best friend and his organization … and then he has the right to kill me.”

“Wait, you're planning to leave the mafia? For real?”

“I don't want to, but I can't live like this. I want to have my own life. I'm a grown man now, the window for opportunities is closing every year.”

“I'll go with you. I'll protect you.”

“You don't have to, Ares. Look at me, I'm capable of taking care of myself.”

You were Silas’s bodyguard, after all. No weak person gets that position. 

“Yes, I know”, Ares says. “But I can help. And you don't have to be lonely.”

“You are an ass too”, you remind him.

“Better than Silas, though.”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

Ares comes with you to Spain. He has given you false documents with new names and nationalities. You sit together at the airport with your phone in your hand. Your stomach is turning.

“I really should tell him”, you sigh nervously. “I don't want to just leave. I have known him for years. I might betray him work wise, but I can't betray him friend wise. I'm going to call him.”

“I don't think you should”, Ares says. “He has been awful to you, why does he deserve your goodbye?”

You groan and hide your head between your knees. Ares brushes his hand through your hair.

“Come on, sweetie, let it go”, Ares encourages you. “Your new life starts soon. Beach, sun and alcohol, all day long.”

You want to tell him that you don't drink, but decide to leave it be. 

“I have to go to the bathroom”, you excuse yourself and stand up to walk away.

But you don't go to the bathroom stalls. You stand by the large windows at the gate and call Silas.

“Hi, Y/N”, he says.”I haven't heard from you in a little while. I was about to go over to your house and drag you over to mine, because I miss you.”

“I have to talk to you about that”, you say,  hesitantly. “I am not at home, and I probably won't be back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm really sorry that I have gone behind your back, but I am actually leaving … going abroad. And it might be permanent.”

“Have you hit your head?”

“I'm really sorry for betraying you, Silas, you’re my best friend … but frankly, you're always stopping me from getting my own family, while you brag about the women you fuck. I need to get away, at least for a while and get to try to find love. It might not be permanent, but I don't know.”

“Where are you going? You know that you can't leave the country without me knowing. The second any of your credit cards, passport or anything along that way is being used, I'm notified.”

“Well I'm not fucking stupid. I have fixed that.”

Silas scoffs out a mocking laugh.“You don't know how to do that.”

“I had help.”

“From who?” He doesn't sound that cocky anymore.

“Ares.”

Silence. 

“Oh, you can't be fucking serious”, Silas says. 

You can't detect what emotion he's feeling. Perhaps everything all at the same time. Maybe it was a wrong decision to call him before your flight, but the guilt would have eaten you up the entire way there.

“I am”, you answer, trying your best not to let your voice shake. 

“You know what kind of asshole he is, Y/N”, Silas tells you. 

“I have done stuff too, I’m no angel either.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I just called to let you know that I am leaving. I didn’t want you to hear that from anyone else, I wanted you to hear it from me personally. This is a goodbye, Silas — at least for now. Thank you.”

“Y/N-”

You hang up and turn off your phone before returning to Ares who’s sipping on a beer by the gate, where you left him.

When you’re allowed to board the plane, you’re already nauseous. What if it wouldn’t work? What if you changed your mind? You already felt bad. Ares puts his hand on your shoulder while you walk through the middle of the plane, trying to find your seat. Ares takes the aisle seat. 

“Thank you for giving me the window seat”, you chuckle. “I feel like a kid all over again.”

“Well, I can’t let random folks touch you, can I?” Ares responds. “I’m a gentleman after all.”

Ares sits with his phone up the entire flight, working. You know all about his dirty business, how he scams people left to right with his false businesses. 

You fall asleep for a while. Your body has been in a tense position the entire day and finally, you were out of reach. He couldn’t create a storm or shoot down a passenger plane, he wasn’t a God or a military flighter. He is nothing more than a man with a bit too much power for his own liking. And hybris. A whole lot of hybris. Ares turns off his phone to look at you. He smiles slightly. For years, he has tried to take you from Silas. You didn’t want him, but Silas was too selfish to let you be put on the market. He wanted you available at all times, for when the timing was right. Ares stopped trying to reach out to you after a while, knowing that it was pointless, thought that if you wanted to get back in touch with him, you would reach out — and you did. Ares lets his eyes wander over you. He has tried to match your physique, but had no chance against the hours you’ve had to spend at the gym to be able to be Silas’s bodyguard. But under all those muscles, you are nothing but a softie, and that’s why Ares wants you … and Silas too, unfortunately. He always has to compete with his brother over toys they both want.

Silas scoffs angrily and runs his hand through his black hair, and yet he can’t stop himself from laughing. It’s absurd! All of it!

“Why are you laughing, boss?” his second in command asks shortly. “This is nothing to be happy about.”

“I fucking know that?” Silas snaps back. “Do you think I enjoy knowing that my Y/N is on a plane with my psycopathic brother going to fuck knows where?”

“There are not a lot of places he could go to, though. Think about it.”

“I can’t fucking think! Y/N is leaving me!”

“Silas, sit down before you faint, ‘kay?”

Silas, oddly enough, listens and sits down on the couch in his study with his hands gripping the fabric beside him. His second in command stands in front of him with his hands on his hips. 

“Listen”, he says. “Ares would fuck with you, right?”

“Right”, Silas responds. 

“Which countries are you banned from?”

“Spain, England, Germany, the Netherlands and Ireland.”

“So, one of those countries.”

“But which?!”

“His favorite. Which one is the warmest?”

“Spain?”

“Bingo.”

Silas’s eyes widens and he breaks out into a shocked smile. Why didn’t he think about this? Ares isn’t smart.

“...how the fuck do I do this?” he realizes. “I can’t just take a plane into Spain without being arrested the second I step off the plane. We will need another way. We could get a boat and sneak in.”

“I’ll see what I can do, boss.”

“Do it quickly, I know my brother and he will take what I want. If he does, I will never forgive myself.”

The reason why Silas has never let you date anyone is because he wants what can only be had one way, your innocence. 

He sighs and walks out of the room where he finds the woman he’s dating standing with her hands together, looking worried. A certain rage takes over him. The sight of her had made you want to leave. He knows very well that it isn’t her fault, but he can’t help but think that it is. Her existence has put you in a position of discomfort, and for that, she has to pay. Silas doesn’t want to look at her, it only makes him nauseous. 

He pulls up his gun from his belt, and without a second thought, he fires off and watches the innocent girl’s limp body hit the floor. But for now, he can’t bring himself to feel bad. 

He has to find you. Ares is only nice as long as you're on his side, if you want to disagree with him, he's going to strip you off everything. You just don't know how horrific Ares could be.

Your first few days in Spain couldn’t be more than idyllic — if it weren’t for the fact that you look over your shoulder wherever you go. You scan the areas for familiar faces of Silas’s gang. 

“Relax, will you?” Ares says and hooks his arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoy the scenery instead.”

“I think I’m going insane”, you mutter. 

“A shot will help with that.”

“I don’t drink, you know that.”

Ares just smiles. You’re on your way back to the house from a restaurant Ares had treated you to. It was obviously a date, but you didn’t know how to tell him that you wanted to take things slow. Ares has never been a patient man … and you aren’t even sure if Ares is the person you want to date currently. Frankly, thanks to Silas, you don’t know what you want to do yet. You’ve only gotten your freedom to do whatever you want a few days ago, and it’s more overwhelming than you expected. 

“Do you want to come to my room?” Ares asks when you get to the front door. “We don’t even have to do anything, we can just watch TV.”

“I start to believe that the only reason you wanted to come with me on this trip was to get me in bed”, you scoff and put the keys in the lock. 

“Not only-”

“Ares, go to the bar and pick up someone there instead.”

“I can’t leave you alone, I told you that I was going on the trip to protect you.”

“And i told you that I didn’t need protection. If you’re horny, go.”

Ares sighs and gives up. “Fine, call me if you need me.”

“I’ll be fine, I’m tired.”

Ares nods and gives your back a tap before walking back the way you came from. You unlock the door, going into the house. In the corner of your eye, you can tell that something is moving. Instantly, you go into attack mode, but freezing when you notice who it is that is standing up from the armchair.

“I feel like a dad catching their underage kid sneaking in after a night out”, the second in command says. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you question. 

The second in command jerks his head. “Fucking guess.”

“Did Silas really send you because he can’t enter the country?” you laugh. “That’s so tragic.”

“Laugh all you want, you’re not the one that have been on a small fucking fishing boat for twelve hours straight!” He collects himself and sighs. “I will give you one chance to come with me voluntarily before I beat your head in.”

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Try me.”

Silas must have equipped his second in command with things he knew that you wouldn’t be able to combat, because in one way or another, you lose consciousness. 

You wake up in a dark, cold room. At once, you try to move your hands to your eyes to rub them clean from drowsiness, but quickly notice how your hands are tied to something behind you. That’s when you realize that you’re stuck in a cage the size of a garden shed, in — what looks like — a cargo hold. Your hands are tied to one of the cage’s bars behind you. Your head is pounding from the hit his second in command had given you. 

“Look at that, he’s finally waking up”, a familiar voice says. 

“So we don’t need the water?” his second in command asks. 

“Let’s keep it.”

Silas walks into the cage, crouching down in front of you. He takes a hold of your chin, directing your head whichever way he wants. 

“You gave him a bump the size of mount everest”, Silas mutters over his shoulder. 

“He’s a trained fighter”, his second in command replies. “I had to do what I had to do, you know?”

“I guess.”

Silas lets go of your pounding head. You groan softly, feeling out of your own body, while still being trapped inside the cage. You start to cough and Silas grabs the bucket of icy water, holding it to your mouth. At first, you gulp it down … and then realize that it was sea water. You throw it up, right back into the bucket. Silas gives the bucket to his second in command, telling him to throw it out.

“That was fucking disgusting”, you grimace and gag. 

“You kind of deserve it.” He fixes your hair that has started to stick onto your forehead. “Why did you do that to me, Y/N?”

“You didn’t let me have my own life. I was living yours, as a side character.”

“You betrayed me.”

You meet his brown — almost black — eyes and feel your heart sink. You have never seen such sadness in his eyes before. 

“I know”, you say and turn down your gaze. “I felt really bad about it. I know the rules, and I won’t make a fuzz about it, but can I beg of you that it won’t be you who kills me? I don’t want that to be our last memory together.”

Silas seems to be taken aback. 

“I’m not going to kill you”, he says. “In fact, no one is.”

“But I betrayed you-”

“I know, but I can’t kill you.”

“You can’t bend the rules, or else you’ll get a mutiny.”

“Who said that I was letting you off the hook?”

You watch how Silas walks out of the cage, picks something up from the floor, and returns with a bottle in his hands. 

“I know that you are strong”, he says, popping the bottle open, “and violent. So, I’m going to keep you calm for the rest of the journey to Portugal. Open your mouth.”

“What is that?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing the bottle wearily. 

“Vodka.”

You shake your head quickly. “That’s so foul-”

“I did not ask for your opinion.”

He puts the opening of the bottle to your lips and you try to turn your head, but Silas forces you to drink. With one hand, he holds the bottle, and with the other he holds your chin to make sure that you can’t turn away. You have no other choice but to swallow the burning liquid. He doesn’t let you stop until half the bottle are gone. You cough and gag, but can’t throw up. 

“You absolute fu—fucking—”, you cough. 

“Calm down, baby boy, it’s just some vodka”, Silas says nonchalantly and takes a sip. “Good for your heart.”

He puts his hand on your heavily raising chest, trying to calm your breathing and feel your racing heart. The alcohol turns your body heat up and you want nothing more than for that bucket of water to come back. 

“My right hand man will be here to make sure that you’re not sober for a single second”, Silas says and stands up. 

“You can’t fucking leave me like this!” you burst out. 

“Then stop me.”

You fight against the ropes and Silas smirks triumphantly before leaving the cargo hold.

The second in command came in every half an hour to give you new sips. You tried to refuse, but with your hands locked behind your back and head spinning with alcohol, there wasn't much you could to to stop him.

You haven't drank anything since you were a young teenager and the rocking motions of the sea wasn't helping you. You refused to throw up again, refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you in such a state next time they entered.

You hated alcohol even worse now. Fuck Silas. 

After what felt like hours — in your drunken state it could very well have been days, or minutes — you couldn't take it anymore.

“Silas!” you shout and your tone goes to a whining, slurred melody. “Silas!”

You've never felt so helpless.

Silas enters with his second in command tightly behind him. He enters the cage and crouches down in front of your pathetic form.

“What?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

“Please stop”, you beg and sob, but you're not sure if the tears come from the heart or the alcohol. “Please …I will do what you want …”

Silas grabs the back of your sweaty neck and directs your wet face into his shoulder, letting you cry. You can feel that your hands are freed from the ropes.

Silas picks you up, carrying you up to the decks above water. His second in command holds your head so that you won't smash it against one of the sharp corners. 

Silas tucks you into a bed and leaves you to rest. You can see the shining sun outside the round porthole window as you fall asleep. 

He walks out onto the deck of the fishing boat and smirks.

“What?” his second in command asks.

“I'm not single anymore”, Silas chuckles.

“You won again, congratulations. Will you put Y/N into the basement?”

“He can handle that. But most important thing is that he's coming home where he belongs, and there won't be any more childish outbursts.”

“What happened with your brother, by the way?”

“Who cares? I don't want to meet him anyway, so the less I need to deal with him, the better.”

When the fishing boat reaches Portugal, you are dragged to a car and to the airport. You don't say much. Silas disregard for your hate of alcohol and childish behavior has put you off. If it weren't for the fact that you are hus prisoner now, you wouldn't be his friend anymore.

Silas’s private jet stands ready on an empty field. He holds your arm as he pushes you up the stairs. You rip your arm from his hold.

“I can walk by myself, let me go”, you mutter.

Silas sighs. You sit down in a seat opposite Silas and cross your arms.

“You are glaring at me”, Silas says without glancing up from his phone.

“I'm just trying to determine if you have brain cells”, you spit.

“Aren't you a fun lad?”  

“Where is my phone, by the way?”

“Like sharp objects and weapons should be: far away from you.”

“Oh, I see. You're going to treat me like a child.”

“Y/N, I'm not an idiot. I trained you, I know how dangerous you are with weapons. You are even more violent than I am at times.”

“Obviously with good reasons.”

Silas glances up from his phone. You twitch your eyebrows testingly. You might not have your weapons, but your tongue is still sharp. 

Being in a relationship with Silas might be more interesting than you thought, and Silas sure as hell will realize that you're not going down without a fight.

“Your girlfriend, then?” you question. “What does she think?”

“Frankly, she can't think a lot at the moment”, Silas responds, turns off his phone and luts it on the table between you. 

You get the hint immediately. 

“Killing her was unnecessary”, you say.

“Running away from me was unnecessary too”, Silas adds.

“This is going to be a stable relationship.”

“It will be the second you stop with the childish attitude.”

While keeping eye contact, you push his phone off the table. Silas eye twitches as he bends down to get it.

“You're going into the basement when we get home”, he says.

“Can I hit back? Or are you going to have full control and tie me up again? Is that the only way you can win over me? With me being completely helpless?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up before I let you ride on the airplane wing.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You stare at each other, and you refuse to look away first. You're going to make him regret imprisoning you.

[dazed--xx]

SKZ! FAKE TEXTS: Felix Make Up

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Seungmin | Jeongin | Part 1

You feel your blood boil as you force the door open, a scowl on your face as you glare at Felix. He stood there tears streaming down his cheeks as his eyes widened in surprise. "Love...." He sighs as he wraps his arms around your waist. His head rests on your shoulder as he inhales your scent. The smell of his best friend, Sooji's perfume still all over him. The entire night was an epic fail.

What was supposed to be a fun night at the fair, became a nightmare. Let alone your boyfriend forgetting the purpose of the date in the first place. You couldn't understand how he could be so amazing but the second Sooji came around, he dropped everything for her. How could you get over this? You felt you could deal with a third wheel on your anniversary date. Felix works a lot he doesn't have much time to hang out with you often let alone his best friend. But you couldn't stand that you became the third wheel for a night you were paying for in the first place. You felt stupid, you paid for her tickets, meals, and prizes. You spoiled your now ex-boyfriend's side chick. Like an idiot. and he had the nerve to show up only minutes after you arrived home? He had the nerve to act like what they did wasn't wrong and touch you?

"Get off of me" You grit as you shove him slightly. You hear Felix whimper as his grip tightens. You can feel his head shake a resounding no. "Now. Lee Yongbok" You growl. Felix begins sobbing harshly into your shoulder. "No! Please! please...I'll do anything! Please don't make me let you go. Please don't make me leave....." He pleads. His body trembles as he continues to sob and beg.

"Do you even know what you did?"

He stares at you dumbfounded. "I-I.....uhm...I-I...." He stammers as he pulls away slightly. You use the opportunity to free yourself from his grasp and close the door behind you. "Felix, you love Sooji. You should be with her...." You state with a sad sigh. He shakes his head in denial "N-No! No that's not true. I'm sorry if I made you believe that but I swear, it's not true. I love you. Y/F/N. That's who I love. that's who I want to be with. I'm so fucking sorry but please...please believe me. i just made a mistake. I should have realized today was important and that she shouldn't have come—You think that's the problem?" You cut him off. "You think I care more that Sooji came and not the fact that you made me bankroll your little date with Sooji on our anniversary? You think her presence was the problem and not the fact that you treat her more like your girlfriend when she's around and if you don't she throws a fucking fit?"

"I-I don't know what to say....I-I didn't realize—of course you didn't. you only care about how Sooji feels. You only care about Sooji" You cut him off again "Please leave. go be with her I'm tired of being your second choice."

"You're not! stop saying that I like Sooji; I don't. I love you, I pity Sooji. Thats all! i don't want to be with her. Im sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. I shouldn't have behaved like that with her. I'm sorry I made you misunderstand me but please know that the only person I want to be with is you. I'll do anything to fix this please let me fix this....." He argues, his voice cracking as he finishes his plea. He stares at you with a fear-stricken expression when you don't say anything. His hand holds yours as he sniffles. "It's my fault. I should have been better, you can be mad at me as long as you want. I-if you want to hit me that's okay.....just please, please give me a chance to fix this. I won't talk to her ever again. I won't make you uncomfortable with any more friendships. Please give me a chance...."

"I don't know, Felix....."

"I can make this up to you. you know I can. please just let me come in and we can talk. That's all I want is to talk, please..."

“What do you want me to do, Felix? Pretend I didn’t come out of the bathroom and see you guys all over each other? Pretend you didn’t show more interest in her than me? Pretend that you don't really want to be with me?”

“Stop fucking saying that!” He growls angrily as his palm slams into your door frame forcefully. His face was red as rage boiled over in his stomach "Sooji is someone I fucking pity. I feel bad for her because she was abandoned by her family. I felt like I'd be an asshole if I just ditched her too but I don't feel shit for her. I love you just fucking listen to me for once! Yes, I fucked up. but she doesn't mean what you do. She's not close to your level in my eyes so fucking stop" He growls. You flinch as he raises his voice. For a moment, he was almost unrecognizable. You had heard that he could be temperamental on occasion but you had never witnessed his anger firsthand. You look toward your neighbor's house. His hand caresses your cheek. "Look at me...." He urges, and you shake your head "You really hurt me...."

"I'll spend every day making it up to you."

"I can't trust you..."

"You can....but I-I understand why you feel like you can't. But Y/N please know, I would never do anything like this again. If my friendship with Sooji makes you uncomfortable then I won't be friends with her anymore. I won't talk to her or see her anymore....." He stammers nervously, his voice trembling slightly with fear. "I'm not the type of person to dictate your friendships, Felix. and I don't want to be with someone who doesn't know how to draw a line or notice when someone is being too much. Like if I had a guy friend that treated me the way you treat Sooji. Would that make you feel comfortable? Would you have faith in our relationship after catching me in the situation I caught you in tonight?" You question softly, nervous about his answer. You finally turn to look at him and notice the way his jaw is clenched. His free hand balled into a fist at his side, eyes closed as his anger and jealousy were painted on his expression.

"T-That's different...."

"Why? because its me? " You snide.

"No! Because I didn't even realize how it looked until now. I thought I was just being a supportive friend! I didn't mean for it to look like anything inappropriate was going on. I don't like her like that, I love you. I want to be with you. If you're so sure I don't love you then why am I here?" He argues. He steps closer to you. your chests now pressed together, as he leans in closer his lips brushing over yours. "Why am I here fighting you on this?" He whispers. You stare into his eyes feeling his sincerity. "I-I—Because—" He cut you off with a passionate kiss before you could argue. You stand frozen for a moment before your arms wrap around his neck and your lips move against his. "I love you" he whispers infatuatedly as his lips continue to move against yours. His hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer to him. Your cheeks are a bright scarlet as he repeats the phrase over and over as he presses your back against your front door. "I'm so sorry for hurting you, My love." He kisses you softly again. "I'll make it up to you I promise. please forgive me?"

You pull away, your breath heavy and your lips swollen. Felix stared at you like a kicked puppy as you made space between you. "I'm not gonna let you off this easy....." you mumble "You better work your ass off to make this up to me..." You cross your arms, and a bright smile forms on Felix's lips as he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you! You won't regret this I swear! I promise you, I'll make this up to you." He smiles as he rests his forehead on yours. "Starting tonight!" He states excitedly as he pulls away slightly, lifts you over his shoulder, and playfully rushes into the house as you laugh at his antics.

Taglist: @lovesunshinefelix @mlrroh @kibs-and-bits @yangbbokari @skzswife @stay-tiny-things @skz-codeeee @mademoisellebruce