#they still need each other and care for each other but they don’t. do it traditionally

[wndaswife]

there’s no need to be brave | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Sometimes things get to be too much, but you know you can always go to Wanda to feel safe and loved. She reminds you how important it is for you to be taken care of.

Word count: 3573

Tags: it’s all fluff, some humour, age gap, lightly implied age regression during one scene, wanda takes care of you and kisses you and is patient and loving and gentle

The front door rattled softly as you unlocked it. From the kitchen, Wanda looked up from her dinner preparation, anticipating your presence after coming from your afternoon classes. 

She gave you the keys to her place a month ago when your classes didn’t align as much with her work hours as it did for your last semester. Now that you had the keys, it was easier to see each other without your schedules aligning. 

You set down your bag in the living room, shedding your coat on top of it, before practically sliding your feet over to the kitchen lazily. You didn’t even lift your head; it was only the vague figure of Wanda that you needed in order to navigate around the counter and wrap your arms around her body. 

Her arms were trapped under yours, forcing her to wiggle them out of your hold so she could hug you. 

“Baby, are you alright?” she asked, her voice light but her tone concerned. 

You buried your face in her chest. You had meant to reply to her question, but as soon as you opened your mouth you no longer wanted to answer, so you mumbled incoherently into her soft breasts. 

“Sweetheart,” Wanda tried again, leaning back to get a look at you.

Finally, you lifted your head, squinting as you looked up at her in the light of the kitchen. She immediately cupped your face with both hands, brushing back your hair. 

“I hardly got any sleep last night,” you said, straightening so your face wasn’t in Wanda’s chest anymore but now facing her. 

Her eyes followed yours as you looked around the kitchen while you spoke. One hand dropped to your shoulder, her thumb stroking you softly while her other hand remained cupping your cheek. 

“Yesterday, I woke up at eight to study, then last night I slept for two hours before my nine a.m. class, then took an hour nap between classes, and my head hurts and I think I’m getting tunnel vision and I’m scared I’m gonna start hallucinating soon, because isn’t that a sign of sleep deprivation?”

Wanda opened her mouth to say something, but you continued. 

“At least I’ve eaten, but I don’t know if it’s enough, because I was still hungry while coming over here, and I can’t go home because they’re fixing the hydro so I don’t have running water until midnight — I don’t know why they scheduled the construction in the middle of the day — and I want to shower, and it was so cold outside–”

Suddenly the hand that had been cupping your cheek was over your mouth, and you finally looked at Wanda who was staring at you with a gentle gaze. Upon meeting her eyes she smiled at you, so subtly that the corners of her eyes crinkled just slightly. 

Slowly, she put down her hand then wrapped that arm around your waist, holding you against her. She dropped her other hand from your shoulder and held your hand. 

“You can shower here. My water is working just fine,” she said slowly. “I’m preparing dinner now, so stay over tonight and we can eat a proper meal together. If you’re hungry now, anything in the kitchen is yours.”

She watched your expression relax and your shoulders untense, and she smiled a little when you tried to shuffle closer although you were already standing against her. 

“Take another nap, baby. Shower in my room then sleep in my bed.”

You nodded wordlessly. 

As your face relaxed and when your mind seemed much less troubled, Wanda took a good look at you. She stroked your hand with her thumb. 

“You do look tired…” she said sympathetically. “Please go up to shower — it’ll relax you. Are you still hungry? I can make something for you before you have your nap. I’ll go up after you’ve finished showering.”

Internally, you felt like teasing her for how she was very much talking to you like you were her child. But oh, how badly you just wanted to be taken care of like a child. 

You nodded again, looking up at her. 

Then, at the sight of her face, her pretty face and her beautiful eyes, and her soft hair and the slope of her nose and the line and curl of her lips, you leaned in for a kiss. 

Wanda pulled back slightly, and your eyes darted up from her lips to her eyes. She let go of your hand, lifting her own in front of your face, wiggling her fingers a little. 

“Don’t lick your lips; I was handling raw meat before you came in and I touched your face,” she warned, smiling guiltily. 

You looked over to the counter and saw Wanda’s bowl of ground meat, and around it, her spices and other vegetables she had yet to prepare. 

At the sight of your to-be dinner and the idea of Wanda preparing it and cooking it all up, you laid your head on her shoulder and buried your face in her neck. 

“Oh, doll…” she whispered, cradling the back of your head as you tucked your face under her jaw. 

“Now you’ll have to shower, right? Because I rubbed raw meat on your neck?” 

Maybe you were imagining it, but you could hear Wanda’s grin forming even though your face was buried in her neck. When she spoke next, you were at least sure that she was speaking while grinning. 

“Is that what you were doing?” she asked. “You could’ve just asked.

Wanda tucked your hair back, exposing the side of your face. She kissed your temple. “Give me a few minutes to finish with the meat, so I can refrigerate it. Wait for me upstairs.”

After some minutes, Wanda found you sitting on the edge of the tub waiting for her. She smiled at the sight of you wrapped in a towel, looking up at her as she entered. 

Eagerly, you all but lept from your spot and turned to run the shower, testing it with your hand until it became warm while Wanda undressed behind you. 

When she had taken all her clothes off, she approached you and undid your towel before laying it on the sink. 

You turned, wrapping your arms around her, feeling her smooth bare skin immediately warming your own upon contact with her. 

“I washed my face,” you informed her before squeezing your eyes shut and puckering out your lips. 

A soft kiss was then pressed to your lips, your lips relaxing from its puckering. Wanda’s hand came to your cheek, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone tenderly. 

“My sweet girl…” she whispered softly as she parted from the kiss. 

In the shower, Wanda washed your hair with her shampoo instead of yours. 

“I’m… feeling kinda…” you started quietly, looking down and playing with your fingers. 

“Mmm?” Wanda hummed, busy with massaging her soapy fingers against your scalp. 

“Kinda… little.”

”I know, baby,” she replied softly. “Just let me take care of you.“

You wondered if Wanda, too, imagined that she heard your smile when it formed bashfully at her response, like you had in the kitchen when you heard her grin.

Earlier, you had been planning to tell Wanda about the other things which had made you feel upset, like how you were behind in your readings and how you were almost certain you did terribly on your midterm paper.

But in the shower, all those things just disappeared. 

A part of you worried for just a moment that Wanda might even think you were being silly or overly dramatic for being upset over only the things you mentioned earlier, so you figured you ought to tell her the whole story. 

But when Wanda turned around and let you wash her hair, you knew there was no way she’d ever think that about you. 

It made you feel like crying. 

Really, you didn’t know why you felt the urge. Maybe it was because it was just a touching sentiment, or because you were overcome with how safe and cared for you felt, in the steam and warmth of Wanda’s shower, her hair in your hands, and her bare body just a few inches from you — Wanda just a few inches from you. 

When she turned around to start washing your body after her hair was rinsed, her eyes fell upon your face for just a moment, and within that moment, you could tell that she noticed you looked like you were about to cry. 

And when you really were about to cry, you didn’t notice yourself; it was Wanda’s immediate comforting that made you realize you were. 

Then, at your soft hiccups, you knew for sure you were crying. 

Her arms surrounded you, and you buried your face in her neck. Your damp cheeks blended with the wet warmth of her skin, making your face feel flushed. 

“Shh, it’s okay now,” she spoke gently. Her arm wrapped around your waist had her warm palm against the middle of your back, her other cradling the back of your head. “I know it gets hard…” 

You sniffled and opened your eyes, watching the water drip from the ends of Wanda’s hair through your bleary eyes. 

“You’re tired and frustrated,” she said. “You just need to be taken care of, right?” She felt you nodding against her shoulder slightly.

“There we go. It’ll be alright, honey. All you need is a little bit of time.”

Your arms squeezed around her waist. 

“I need you,” you insisted. 

“I’m here, Y/N.”

Though you felt you didn’t need anything to eat until dinner, Wanda prepared a snack for you anyway, insisting that you eat something. You asked her to wake you up for dinner because you didn’t want it to get cold before you woke up.

You wanted to wear her pajamas too, so she picked out a comfy pair for you. You were practically beaming as you snuggled down into her neatly-made bed. 

After a few minutes, Wanda came up with some apple slices and some peanut butter on the side. She told you to get to sleep right after eating, and you weren’t even worried you’d accidentally keep yourself up.

With dinner being prepared and Wanda promising to wake you up once it was finished, you snuggled into her bed, promptly falling asleep in her pajamas after eating the snack she put together for you. 

Over dinner, now that you felt far more rested but still extremely eager to sleep cuddled up to Wanda soon, you spoke about her day, and very little about yours, since you didn’t want to think about it.

She sat beside you, touching you occasionally, her hand rubbing your shoulder as she spoke or playing with your fingers that were laying on your thigh.

She asked how you liked dinner, and scooted closer to you when you told her how much you liked it. 

“When was the last time you had a full meal, baby?”

“A full meal?” you asked, thinking about what qualified as a full meal, let alone a meal at all. 

She squeezed your hand as she took a drink from her glass. “One cooked in a kitchen, and warm.”

“Instant noodles in a pot, two evenings ago.”

“That’s not a meal, Y/N.”

“Then… A week and a half ago. When I went for dinner with my friends.”

Wanda let go of your hand and tucked your hair behind your ear. “You need to eat better, baby. Can you come over more often?”

“Can I sleep over more?”

The corners of Wanda’s eyes crinkled when a smile immediately formed on her face, the tips of her ears rising just a twitch. “Please do,” she answered. 

While you were brushing your teeth, Wanda came up after getting the dishes into the dishwasher. She insisted she do it herself while you got ready. 

She smiled at the sight of you still in her pajamas, brushing your teeth in her washroom. She approached you and pressed a kiss to your cheek, your mouth full of minty suds. 

When you had both finished getting ready, you crawled over the bed and laid your head down in Wanda’s lap and brought your knees to your stomach, like a puppy. She set her phone down and laid her hand on your head, massaging your scalp and forehead softly.

Satisfied and relaxed, you closed your eyes. 

“I miss you when you’re busy at school, baby…” she said softly, her voice gentle and a little sleepy. 

You opened your eyes and turned onto your back so you could look up at her. The lamp on her nightstand embraced her in a warm glowing outline around the crown of her head through her hair, making the soft glow look like a halo. 

“Really…?” you asked. 

Her warm hand cupped your cheek, her thumb stroking your skin. She nodded. “So much. I think of you all the time, Y/N. Our phone calls aren’t enough.”

You turned your body and pressed your face against her stomach. 

After a few silent moments of Wanda brushing her fingers through your hair. “Why don’t you take care of yourself? You need to eat and sleep properly, honey.”

You muffled indiscernible words into her stomach, not really trying to give an answer. 

“Are you listening, Y/N?”

You spoke, intelligibly this time, albeit still against her stomach. “Yes, I’m listening.”

“Let’s get into bed,” she said, taking your chin in her hand and making you look up at her. She smiled down at you and you turned your head to kiss her palm. 

You weren’t ready to stop clinging onto Wanda even after she turned off the lights and you got under the blankets together; your arms were wrapped around her waist snugly, your head tucked under her chin. Her hand gently stroked the back of your head.

Your breathing was in time with Wanda’s in a way that when her chest expanded as she inhaled, your shoulders relaxed as you exhaled, creating a subtle push and pull of your bodies’ contact.

“I think I might’ve done really badly on my midterm paper,” you said quietly, turning your head and opening your eyes, looking at the subtle shifting of her shoulders.

“Really?” she asked, continuing to stroke the back of your head. “Why?”

The heavy ache in your chest that arose when you normally thought about your terrible paper had somehow dissipated, and in its place a dull and hollowed out feeling where you expected to feel its weight. 

You tightened your arm around Wanda’s waist, pressing your chest against hers. 

“I knew it was terrible as I was writing it. I was just in such a rush. I didn’t take the time to plan it — nothing,” you explained. The words felt like a confession, finally releasing what you’d done without denying it to yourself and storing it deep within that ache that was presently missing.

“What happens if you get a bad mark?”

For the first time, you genuinely thought about a future that took place after receiving the paper’s grade. “I guess I’d have to talk to a teaching assistant about it… Or my professor.”

Wanda hummed in acknowledgment. “It’ll be alright, Y/N. It’s a midterm for a reason; it's not your final, and you’ll certainly have ways to make up for it.”

“But it’s just stupid…” you mumbled, hiding your face in Wanda’s chest again. 

She pulled her head back a bit and looked down at you. “What’s stupid, baby? Come on, look at me when you’re talking.”

“No, I don’t want to,” you replied childishly. 

Wanda gave in with an exhale through her nose and rested her chin on top of your head again. “Can you tell me what’s frustrating you?”

“I’m just stupid. I’m supposed to be able to do these things properly, and I can’t.”

“It’s not that you can’t, Y/N, it’s just that you couldn’t for that assignment. Don’t call yourself stupid.”

“It’s easy for you to say,” you insisted. “You weren’t there with me when I knew I could’ve done better.”

Above you, Wanda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and sighed. She took your chin in her hand and forced you to lift your head from her chest. 

You looked up at her. 

“Why do you want me to scold you so badly, hm? You want me to agree with you and tell me you should’ve and could’ve done better, and that you’ve done a terrible thing?”

The suggestion wasn’t entirely far from what you had been trying to do, but the idea of Wanda actually doing it made you upset. You felt your bottom lip tremble a little. 

“Why won’t you just make me feel bad about things? Just make me feel bad about things I do.”

Pads of her fingers pressed against your cheeks and Wanda frowned as she looked down at you.

“I would never do that, Y/N,” she told you softly. 

You couldn’t tell if you felt more defiant and stubborn, or overwhelmed again by the realization of how much Wanda loved you. 

“Why not?” you asked. 

Her hand combed down your hair until she was holding the side of your face in her hand. “I love you. You’re loved when you’re with me. That’s why.”

You rubbed eyes with the back of your wrist, feeling an onset of tears. You didn’t want to cry — it wasn’t the time, and all you’d been doing since you arrived was cry and whine and want Wanda’s attention. 

“Oh, baby…” Wanda whispered, kissing your forehead and pulling your head against her chest again. “I know. You’re just feeling overwhelmed.”

You wrapped your arm tightly around her waist again, now feeling her shirt dampening against your cheeks. 

“I will always be proud of you, Y/N,” she spoke against the top of your head. Her hand rubbed your upper back. “I will never scold you for falling behind or making a mistake when you tried your best. And I know you did. You’re a hard worker and a good girl.” 

At her words, your silent tears grew into soft sobs and pathetic whimpers which you didn’t care enough to try and silence. 

Wanda asked with a sweet and patient tone, “You’re a good girl, right, sweetheart?” 

You nodded against her chest. 

She pulled away and lifted your face up with two hands. She wiped your tears away and craned her head down to kiss you softly. 

When she pulled away, you sniffled and immediately wrapped your arms around her neck to give her a hug. 

Several quick kisses were pressed to your cheek, and Wanda hugged you tighter. You knew that her arms were hugged around your torso, but it really felt like she was hugging you all over.

“You will always have somewhere to go to be loved and cared for, Y/N. I love you so much,” she said, her lips brushing against your temple. 

You were a mess of sniffles and whines. “But I can’t come over as much as I want. I wish I was with you all the time. I wish I didn’t have to go anywhere, ever.”

“I know, sweetheart. I wish you could stay here all the time and wake up with me every morning, and be here every time I get back from work. I wish neither of us had to do anything.”

Her fingers combed through your hair. “But I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. I’m not upset when you can’t visit. I know you get busy and I want you to do well in school. You’re a very smart girl.”

“I love you, Wanda,” you said. Your words were slightly muffled but your lips were close to her ear, so she could hear. “I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you in my life. I love you so much.”

Wanda’s arms tightened slightly around your body. “I love you too. I don’t know what I’d do without you either. Talking and being with you is my favourite part of every day. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

For the rest of the night, you and Wanda talked about how you’d figure out having you come over more. Now that you had keys to her place, you could come whenever you wanted, even if she was at work, and stay until she got home. 

She suggested you come over just to eat between classes even if she was out, but you said you weren’t ready to be at her place without her yet; it would feel too lonely and you wanted to see her every time you came over. 

In the morning, Wanda made you breakfast while you brewed the coffee. You didn’t want to miss her when she left for work, so you woke up early and decided to study on campus before your first class, so you could leave with her and spend more time with her in the car. 

Everything in the world and in your life made so much sense when you were doing your daily tasks with Wanda, as if your ordinary life was meant to be aligned with hers. 

This was the woman you were supposed to spend your life with, and it was no wonder everything felt better when you were with her.

[gloomwitchwrites]

How about some silliness.....reader/you is superrr drunk from a night out with friends or high from anesthesia and the guys are trying to take care of them and we are all like "get your hands off me or my husband will kick you ass!" Or "omg you're so hot are you single??"...and they are just dying laughing like "I am your husband!"

I just watched one too many tik toks of this 😂🤣

Oh, I love this. I don't think I've actually seen these videos before (at least on TT) but I do know what you're talking about. Maybe I've seen it more in other media? Like movies and television? Anyway, I understand what you're asking for, so I hope you enjoy what I've cooked up!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, established relationship, fluff, mild alcohol use, shenanigans due to drunkenness & anesthesia

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John stands beside you on the passenger side of the car. The car door is open, and all you need to do is slide inside. Instead, you’re arguing with him, insisting that you can get in yourself, and that you don’t need help.

“You just had surgery,” chides John.

“Minor surgery,” you correct.

“It’s still surgery.” John sighs, and then places his hand on your back. “Let me help you.”

“Hands off, sir. You’re not my husband.”

John does not move his hand. “I don’t remember us getting a divorce, love.”

You wave him off and John snorts. “He’ll kick your ass,” you insist. “Punch you right in the nose.”

John’s stern demeanor cracks, dissolving into a wide smile and a soft chuckle. He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m your bloody husband. You’re stuck with me. Forever.”

“I’m serious,” you say. Turning, you attempt to jab him in the chest with your finger. Everything tilts, and you only hit air.

John sighs, exasperated. “Get in the car, love.”

“No,” you groan, pushing at his chest. You surrender to him, allowing John to help you into the front passenger seat.

“I hope you remember this after the drugs wear off.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You’ve been out with your friends all evening, and you have no idea what times it is. It’s dark, and you didn’t leave until the bar closed, forcing you to make an exit. Someone called for a car, and you all piled in, dropping each of off one by one.

As you enter the dark bedroom, you kick off your shoes, slightly stumbling to turn on the bedside light. You turn it on, and immediately wince. Vision swimming, you rub at your eyes, and then notice the massive lump in your bed.

“Turn off the bloody light, will you?” mumbles Johnny.

A devious plan forms in your head.

You climb onto the bed, crawling toward him. Noticing, Johnny turns toward you, eyes dreary with sleep.

“What?” he asks just before you flop your entire body onto him.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he deadpans.

You wiggle over him, pressing the tip of your nose against his. “You seeing anyone, handsome?”

Johnny arches an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head or something? I am your husband.”

“Lucky me.”

Johnny blows raspberries. With one good shove, he flips you onto your back on your side of the bed.

“Go to bed. You’re drunk.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Your liquor-addled brain tells you to do it.

Across the bar is danger, the kind you want to play with—to sink your teeth into. Why resist temptation when it’s clear that the masked man across the bar can’t seem to take his eyes off you? Every time you glance in his direction, his gaze is focused and intense, daring you to approach him.

Which is exactly what you do.

He follows your every step, even if there is a slight sway in the way you walk. As you approach, he leans back in his chair, legs widening as if in welcome. It’s easy to reach out, to place your hand on his shoulder, to straddle his thighs, and stare into his eyes.

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” you slur. “Plan on going home with anyone?”

“I am,” the masked man replies.

“And who might that be?”

“My wife.”

You turn in his lap, looking around at all the other patrons in the bar. “Don’t see her.”

“Course you don’t,” he chuckles. “Because she’s sitting in my lap.”

You blink. “Is she?”

“You’re my wife,” he whispers.

“I am…aren’t I?”

He shakes his head. “I’m cutting you off.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

The alcohol is an enabler. You shouldn’t have had as many drinks as you did, but this is a party, and you’re not the one driving.

Why not have a bit of fun?

“Hi.”

Kyle arches an eyebrow. “Hi,” he replies, drawing out the greeting in slight confusion.

You cozy up next to him, shoulder brushing against shoulder.

“So,” you begin, head tilting toward him like you’re about to whisper all your secrets. “I’m going to be a bit bold…”

“Go on.”

“But I think you’re cute. Wanted to know if you’re seeing anyone.”

Kyle’s single raised eyebrow becomes two. There’s a long pause, so long that you notice the absence of conversation.

Kyle’s confusion cracks, becoming a wide smile, followed by his adorable, familiar laughter. “You’re taking the piss, love.”

“I’m not joking.”

He laughs harder, clutching his chest like he can’t breathe.

“I’m your husband,” he manages to say between wheezing breaths.

“I know,” you reply. “Just checking to make sure you’re still loyal.”

He waves his hand in the air before him. “You’ve had enough. Give me that.” He plucks your beverage right out of your hands.

“Excuse me,” you protest, but Kyle is already downing it.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@fern-reads @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @glassgulls @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @z-wantstowrite @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[multific]

Of Dog Tags and Love Letters

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: Simon Riley never says “I love you” out loud. Instead, he writes letters, letters you were never meant to find.

Simon wasn’t the kind of man who said “I love you” easily.

He showed it instead.

He showed it in the way he pulled you close at night, in the way his hand always rested on the small of your back in public, in the way he made sure you always walked on the safer inside of the sidewalk.

His love wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was steady, always there.

Still, you wanted to hear it.

Just once.

Just once you wanted to hear him say it.

Simon had been gone on a mission for a few weeks.

You missed him, missed the way the house felt different when he was home.

Tonight, the quiet felt heavier than usual.

That’s what led you to the room, sitting on the bed, fidgeting with his dog tags.

That’s when you found them.

A small metal box, tucked away beneath an old shirt. You were trying to find a shirt which still smelled like him.

Inside the box, there were letters.

Dozens of them, all folded neatly, your name written on each one.

Your stomach flipped as you picked one up, your fingers shaking slightly as you unfolded the paper.

The handwriting was rough and rushed.

But it was undeniably his.

If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t make it back.

Your breathing stopped, but you kept reading.

I don’t say things the way I should. Never have. But you should know… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the reason I want to come back in one piece. If I don’t... just know that I love you. Always have, always will.

Your chest ached as you grabbed another letter.

It was the same.

So was the next.

You looked at the dates. Every letter is written before a mission.

Every single one, carrying the words he never said to your face.

I love you.

All of them, filled with meaning and care. All of them are written from the heart.

You pressed them to your chest, blinking back tears.

Three days later, he was home.

The second he walked through the door, you didn’t wait. You crashed into him, arms wrapped tight around his middle.

He let out a small grunt of surprise. “What’s all this then?”

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

He huffed a quiet laugh, arms circling around you. “Good to see you too, Love.”

You pulled back, searching his tired eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Simon’s body tensed. “Tell you what?”

You lifted your chin. “About the letters.”

His whole body went still.

“…You found them.” His voice was quiet.

You nodded. “Yeah. And I had to find out from some scraps of paper that you truly love me?”

His jaw flexed like he was bracing for something. “I didn’t think I’d ever—” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not easy for me.”

“I don’t care if it’s easy,” you shot back, stepping closer to him. “Do you think this is easy for me? Waiting? Wondering if you’ll come home?” Your voice cracked. “Wondering if I’ll ever get to tell you—”

You stopped yourself, swallowing hard.

Simon’s eyes softened. “Tell me what?”

You exhaled. “That I love you too, you idiot.”

His breath hitched.

Then, before you could say anything else, he cupped your face in his hands, pressing his forehead to yours. His touch was warm, and grounding.

“Say it again,” he whispered, begged.

A smile tugged at your lips. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “I love you.”

His eyes closed, and he let out a slow breath like he was letting himself believe it. When he spoke again, his voice was deep, barely above a whisper.

“I love you too.”

And this time, he didn’t need a letter to say it.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[greengoblinswifey]

Safe Haven—Hwang In-ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— The violence of the games leave you pondering—you don’t want to die a virgin and you ask the one man who you trust and who’s always saved you for help. Based on this request.

warnings— age gap(reader is in her 20s, he’s in his early 50s) mentions of death, mentions of virginity, virgin!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, praise kink, fluff, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

The first time you met Young-il, he saved your life.

The second time, he did it again.

By the third time, you stopped questioning it.

The games were a nightmare, a twisted sequence of death where survival felt more like a borrowed moment than a right. But through it all, Young-il had been there, his sharp eyes catching danger before you even saw it, whether it be saving you from other players or having your back in each game. You didn’t know why he did it, but you trusted him. In a place where trust was a gamble, you took the risk.

Tonight, the two of you sat in the corner of the dormitory, backs against the cold metal bunks. Most of the other players had settled into uneasy sleep, but you couldn’t, not with the weight of potential death pressing down upon you.

“You should get some rest,” Young-il murmured beside you.

You shook your head, fingers twisting in the hem of your thin uniform. “I can’t.”

Silence fell between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. You glanced at him, taking in the way the dim lighting flattered his chiseled face. He was older than you, more composed, like he had seen enough of the world to understand it in ways you never could.

And yet, he was still here. Still surviving. Still saving you.

“Young-il,” you said as you took a breath.

He turned his head slightly, watching you. You swallowed hard, fingers tightening. “I don’t want to die a virgin.”

“I’m scared, what if I die? What if I die without experiencing anything. I want you to take my virginity,” you said, out of breath.

Something flickered in his gaze—surprise, maybe, or something softer. But his face remained unreadable, his body still. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t tease.

Instead, he simply asked, “Are you sure?”

You nodded, heart hammering. “I trust you.”

That was the truth. You didn’t know him outside of the game, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. You knew that if this was your last chance to experience something human, something real, you wanted it to be with him. He made you feel safe and cared for.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said after he studied you for a long moment.

No hesitation, just understanding, exactly what you needed in the moment.

He reached out, brushing his fingers along your jaw, his touch soft, as if waiting for you to change your mind. When you didn’t pull away, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t have to do this because you’re scared,” he murmured.

“I know,” you whispered. “I want to.”

From your lips, he kissed his way down, trailing soft touches along your jaw, your throat, the slope of your shoulder. Every kiss felt delicate, like he was memorizing you in pieces. His hands remained careful, never pushing, always waiting for your silent permission.

When he reached the hem of your uniform, he paused, meeting your gaze again. “I want you to tell me if anything feels wrong. If you want to stop.”

“I will,” you nodded, your breath shaky.

Slowly, he peeled away the thin fabric, revealing your naked body to the cool air. But there was no hunger in his gaze, no rush. Just admiration.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your waist, his touch sending warmth through your pussy. He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring it, making sure you felt how much this meant—not just to you, but to him too.

His hands skimmed over every inch of you, his lips following, never leaving a space untouched. And when he moved lower, when he pressed one last kiss to your stomach, his voice was a quiet promise against your skin.

“I’ll take care of you, angel.”

He grabbed under your thighs, making your legs sit on his shoulders before he delved into the exquisite cuisine before him that was your wet pussy. “You taste amazing,” he murmured, slipping a finger inside your tight hole.

Your fingers tangled in his dark hair as his efforts sped up and your cheeks heated as you heard the faint sound of your pussy wet and squelching. You prayed none of the other players could hear.

“T-that feels so good,” you moaned, softly.

Young-il moaned into your pussy as his tongue flicked your clit, the vibrations making you squirm under his touch. He ferociously sucked and flicked your clit with his tongue before slipping in another finger making you feel full and writhe in the feeling of your g spot being constantly toyed with. You clenched tightly around his fingers, slapping a hand over your mouth to contain your moans.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he groaned, staring up at you.

You complied with his request, your hands grasping his dark hair he had as he held you down and continued eating your pussy through your high. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mind became foggy and all you could think about was how good he made you feel.

After you caught your breath, he kissed you from your pussy, to your stomach, up your chest, sucking on your breasts then your cheeks, your lips then to your forehead, muttering praises in between. “So beautiful, angel. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

He pulled his bottoms down slowly, his hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen and you bit your lip seeing the large package he carried.

“Oh, wow,” you gasped, softly, staring at how hard, long and thick he was. If his fingers could barely fit, how would that? It looked like he would tear you apart.

“It’s okay baby, don’t be intimidated,” his deep voice said, “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

He pumped his cock a few times, spreading the pre cum on his glistening head before hovering above you, his eyes on yours as he used it to rub all over your entrance. You moaned his name softly as he teased you, your body shuddering as he began slapping the tip on your clit.

“I’m about to start, it might be a bit uncomfortable at first. If it hurts, say the word and I’ll stop,” he muttered, quietly.

You nodded slowly and took his time inside you, eyes locked with yours, watching every reaction, every flicker of feeling that crossed your face. “You’re perfect, made just for me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with sincerity. His kisses trailed along your neck and shoulders each one drawing soft, involuntary moans from you.

As he went inside you, inch by inch, your nails dug into his back, his big cock stretching you by the second. You couldn’t even speak, feeling the wind knocked out of you as he was half way in, pushing past the barrier inside your pussy.

“Are you okay, angel?” he asked, ceasing movement inside you.

You nodded frantically, jaw agape.

He reached between your bodies, rubbing slow circles on your clit as he began thrusting slowly. He hissed in pleasure as your tight pussy gripped his dick, each time he went in and the back out, he was soaked in your juices.

“So wet for me. Absolutely perfect,” he groaned.

He gave you time to adjust, to feel every moment as his hold on you tightened and when you whispered, barely louder than a breath, asking him to “go deeper”, his control wavered, and a new depth of intensity overtook him. His grip on you tightened as his strokes deepened, and his eyes darkened with a desire that matched your own.

You bit your lip, containing your moans as you felt him practically in your guts and he was only half way in. Soft praises slipped from him in between breaths, the words laced with emotion as he murmured, “You feel incredible, I don’t want this to end.” You didn’t want it to end either. Each whispered word made you feel seen, safe, protected, and deeply wanted, it was exactly why you chose him.

He stared into your eyes as he hovered above you, his voice a soothing murmur against your neck as he urged, “Cum for me angel, don’t worry, I’ve got you.” As your orgasm hit you like a truck, you felt the wave of warmth and release, the feeling having you in the clouds as though you were high on ecstasy, his name slipping from your lips in soft, whispers. Your entire body convulsed and his strokes slowed as he whispered gentle praises, his touch filled with tenderness.

As he watched you come down from cloud nine, his gaze softened. “You took me so well, angel. I’m so proud of you.” Even though he could see the tiredness in your eyes, the spark in his hadn’t dimmed. With a gentle shift, he turned you onto your stomach, drawing your ass up to him. His hand found yours, fingers lacing together, as he moved again, pulling you back on his cock, each slow thrust reassuring you that he wasn’t done cherishing you yet.

Holding you close, he thrusted slowly at first, ensuring you felt every throb of his cock and every gentle movement of his cock dragging along your walls.

“You’re perfect, my beautiful girl,” he murmured. When you let out a soft gasp, he grinned, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “You look so sexy with your ass in the air,” he said, his voice low. “Completely mine.”

You felt him lean closer, his lips beside your ear as he whispered, “I need you to cum on my cock again.” His hand drifted to your waist, holding you steady as you lost yourself in the pleasure.

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you said, overstimulation taking precedence.

He tilted chin to the side so you could look back at him, “You can do it, angel. Be a good girl for me.” His words were all the encouragement you needed, and as you gave in, squirting on his cock, his own quiet moans echoed with yours.

You clenched tightly around his cock lodged inside your pussy and it triggered his own intense orgasm. He bit down gently on your shoulder, thrusting slowly as ropes of his hot load filled you to the brim. “That’s it, take my cum. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, I’m yours, Young-il,” you moaned softly, your body shaking from the intensity of it all.

Your heartbeat, once wild and frantic, had settled into something calmer. You lay there, still catching your breath, and Young-il hadn’t moved, not away from you, at least as he emptied his cum inside you.

Slowly, he pulled out, his hands gentle as they smoothed over your body, reminding you that you were safe with him. You winced slightly at the sudden emptiness, and his eyes flickered with concern.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, concerned.

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “No,” you whispered. “It was perfect.”

His expression softened, relief washing over his face. He reached for his shirt, and used it to clean you up carefully.

“You did so well,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your knee, then your hip, then your abdomen. “Took me so perfectly. You’re beautiful.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and you bit your lip, watching him as he continued to worship you in the quietest, sweetest ways.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed another kiss to your collarbone.

He stilled at that, lifting his head so you could see the way his gaze softened. “No need to thank me,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re mine.” A pause, filled with nothing but warmth. “And you deserve to be cherished.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Before you could respond, he pulled you into him, wrapping you in his arms, tucking you against his. His lips pressed against your temple, then your forehead, then your nose. Sweet, lingering kisses.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised. “No matter what.”

You sighed, melting into him, feeling safer than you had in weeks. His fingers traced along your spine in slow, soothing patterns, his presence lulling you into something close to peace.

“You’re everything,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to your lips before resting his chin atop your head. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And with his arms around you, holding you like you were something precious, something worth protecting, you believed him.

[revelboo]

got a bit of a silly one for you; which bots would get a kick out of hearing or making their human laugh so hard that they gigglesnort?

I think most of them would be amused, especially if the human is a bit embarrassed. A few would just go out of their way to try and make you do it again

Messing With The Human Headcanons

Trailbreaker

• Loves to make you laugh so hard you’re giggling and your eyes are leaking. Because you’re laughing with him, not at him like everyone else. Knows they whisper about him behind his back. That he’s just the “force-field guy.” Useless unless they need his skills. Overlooked a lot of the time by everyone but Hound. Like that’s all he’s good for. But you don’t care about what he can do, just like him for him. Sure you’d had a rocky start, at odds with each more than you got along. All his fault, every mistake and short-sighted decision all him. But he likes it when you laugh. Loves that smile.

Waspinator

• Leaning over your shoulder to vent against your neck and stir your hair, he huffs and his antenna perk up. Sniffing your coffee. Like he does every morning. Sighing, you hold out the cup. “Want to try some?” And those antenna immediately flatten back to make you think that he doesn’t actually like the way your coffee smells. “Try a bit,” you insist, grinning and he twists his servos together, clearly uncomfortable as you lift it to his face, watching his mandibles pull together and fidget before he reluctantly leans forward. Still find his mouth unsettling as his mandibles spread to reveal his actual mouth and those sharp denta as he obediently takes a drink. And his wings flare out, antenna flattening back. “Good, huh?”

• Not good. Dirt water. Nasty, bitter, dirt water. Whining helplessly at you as you start laughing and point at the sink. Giving him permission to spit it out and you’re wheezing, as he spits and fumbles with the controls like he’s seen you do until he can tip his head under the faucet, get a mouthful and spit again. Why would you drink that? “Waspinator doesn’t like,” he manages, shaking his head and you’re doubled over, snorting and laughing. At him. Can’t even be annoyed with you as your amusement spills through him to warm him. Likes that happy sound even if it’s at his expense.

Brainstorm

• Irritated that you’re laughing at him, instead of impressed. “Wait-is this to impress that other guy? Do you have a bro-crush on Perceptor?” When he doesn’t answer, you crack up, snorting and giggling. And okay. It’s a tiny bit cute. Even if you’re quite possibly the most obnoxious creature he’s ever met. “You do, don’t you? You just want him to notice you. Senpai, notice me!” You’re wheezing now, eyes leaking and he’s changed his mind. There’s nothing cute about you, you’re a little pit-spawned demon sent to torment him and if you breathe a word of this to Perceptor, he’ll offline and take you with him.

Swerve

• “Stop-stop, I can’t breathe,” you gasp, smacking at his servos. Almost screaming you’re laughing so hard and now your eyes are leaking. “You’re awful.” And heads are turning along the bar to stare at you both. Probably wondering if they’re the subject of your amusement. Which is fair enough because he’s been dredging up every bit of dirt on every other crew member he can think of to keep you entertained. Turns out you enjoy gossip as much as he does, but not as much as he loves your snorting laughter and giggles.

TFP Megatron

• “You really think you can make demands?” He growls, carefully hooking a servo through your glittery harness and tugging so you stumble forward a step. Expecting you to become indignant or just angry. Not to reach and carefully remove his clawed servo, patting him.

• “You honestly think I’m the one on the leash?” You say, grinning broadly up at him as he scowls. “I’m the one that’s settling here, because let’s face it. Anger issues and no impulse control even when you’re not on drugs? You’re not exactly the Nemesis’s most eligible bachelor.” There it is, optics narrowing and sharp denta bared in a sharklike grin. “Some of those Vehicons are kind of adorable,” you add, laughing at his expression. Because no matter how much you piss him off, there’s not a thing he can do about it.

• Servos slowly clenching and unclenching, he growls, but knows you’re teasing. Even if he despises your sense of humor. And the more angry he acts, the funnier you think it is until you’re cracking up at his scowl. Little brat. Knows you’ll make it up to him later and that you at least know not to dare voice such things if anyone’s around. Really, he spoils you letting you get away with your attitude. Anyone else would be torn limb from limb, but he enjoys your laughter.

[sagittariusmarz]

The dynamics between you and your future spouse (pac) *follower request

Pile 1

I see that you and your future spouse will a hero and damsel in distress type of dynamic/ hero or heroine dynamic, I see that your future spouse will enjoy taking care of your needs and doing whatever they can to help you or or vice versa. I see that you or your spouse may always try to think ahead and plan ahead to make your spouse’s life easier, I see that you’ll both enjoy encouraging each other and motivating each other. I see that when one of you are down the other always knows what to say or do to pick them up, I see that one of you will always feel the need to be a protector or teacher so that you can guide your person and help them. I see that you will feel safe with each other and you guys will often confide in each other, I see for some of you they’ll really feel like your best friend. Advice- Try not to enable your partner or don’t let them enable you, even if they want to do everything for you make sure that you have and your partner have some independence, beware of being too codependent. Signs- Aries/cancer, Aries in 12th house, Leo in 6th house. Initials- Q, E, A, T

Pile 2

I see that you and your future spouse may have the dynamic of being chased and being the chaser, your spouse may feel like you’re too independent and that you don’t want to rely on them. It may bother them because it will feel like you can’t trust them or rely on them the way they want you too, I see that there will be a physical attraction but you guys may need to work on the emotional aspect. I see that whoever is the provider will make sure that you both are financially stable and they’ll make sure you have what you want/need but they will want more affection, I see that whoever is less affectionate or emotional in the marriage may be because of childhood trauma. Advice- work on building the trust in the relationship and try to be more comfortable expressing your emotions, do the inner work and find out what’s blockage you from opening up more to your partner. Having a better connection with your spirituality or listening more to your intuition will help you. Signs-Gemini/cancer, Leo in 12th house, Gemini in 10th house. Initials- P, O, Z, E

Pile 3

I see that you and your future spouse will have the dynamic of the passionate lovers, I see that the chemistry and attraction will be like something you’ve never experienced before. I see the emotions run high for both of you because of how much you love and care about each other, the relationship may progress really fast or faster than you expected. I see that you guys might have skipped the friend phase and just jumped into a relationship, I see that your spouse will know from the beginning that you’re the one for them and they won’t want to waste anymore time being in the friend-zone. I see that they’ll find you very tempting and erotic or you’ll both feel that way for each other, I see you guys have an active/healthy sexlife. I see that your partner is a doer like even if they’re mad and don’t want to do something for you they’ll still do it, to them actions definitely speak louder than words and they’ll prove it to you. Advice- work on the way you guys communicate/find healthier ways to communicate, work on building a friendship and doing bonding activities together. Work on having a stronger emotional bound with each other rather than just physical. Signs- Capricorn/pisces, Aries in 2nd house/aries in 7th house. Initials- B, D, K

Personal readings always available

Divider by @thecutestgrotto PNGs by @buriedteen @6arely0here

[starmocha]

POV: you're boomshakalaka'ing with all three men from the living room to the kitchen to the bedroom, feeling their hands all over your body, every one of them restless and needing you just as badly as you want them all, getting so breathless as they’re all stealing your lips in quick succession because each one of them wants to be your favorite, but you don’t have favorites, you love them all equally and are planning to treat them well just like they do with you, and of course Zaynie here is going to get the best head of his life as Sylus eats you out, but who can forget sweet Caleb so it’s a good thing you still have a hand available and isn’t it cute how small it looks wrapped around his large length, and what’s that, oh god, Sylus is pumping his fat cock as he devours you and suddenly it’s a game to see who is going to cum first, but fuck, they’re not playing fair since they all know you have such a voice kink and every one of their voices are so delicious as they groan and call you their pretty little slut, and yes, Sylus is right, your pretty mouth does more than just moan like a whore, it can also take Zaynie’s cock so well, and the handsome doctor is stroking your cheek and praising you, knowing full well you also have a praise kink, and it’s making you twitch and clench as you choke on him when Sylus suddenly gives your ass a playful slap that you like perhaps just a little too much, but who fucking cares about modesty when you can feel your orgasm nearing as they are all edging you like the mean boys they are, and oh fuck, it’s all too much, and you cum first, the sight is enough to make all three men lose it and cover and fill you with their release, their amused chuckles loud as they take in the sight of you being such a messy little slut but fucking hell do they love seeing you like this, and of course this is far from over since they still have two other holes they need to stretch and fill, so now the question is which cock are you going to let destroy your pussy first? It doesn’t really matter, perhaps, because by the end of this long and intense night, they’re all going to make sure your pussy is just full of a cocktail of their seeds as they all take turn breeding you over and over again until you’re just whining and sobbing from the intensity of this overstimulation and ravage fucking, but they won’t let you rest until every one of them have cummed inside you, because after all, sharing is caring, and you are their favorite fucktoy to share.

[themultifanshipper]

i am ovulating so bad but can I request a franco x reader x ollie smut where they were fighting over the reader like that one fight scene from bridget jones' diary, and the reader was like... why not both??

To say the start of the 2025 season had been eventful was an understatement. 

Or at least from Franco and Ollie’s points of view. 

Warnings: smut, threesome, blowjob (the return of Franco's dick sucking lips), mention of quickies, also a lot of alcohol, Yukierre being little shits, Ted kravitz once again making an appearance, very plot heavy ngl there's not much smut

At some point during the winter break, you had struck up a situationship with Franco. And you’d managed to keep it a secret for about a week. 

There was no such thing as privacy in Monaco, so of course it was inevitable that someone would eventually snap a pic of him leaving your house, and that was it. 

Ollie had been planning on asking you out at the start of the season, given that he now had a full-time seat and you'd be seeing a lot more of each other. 

And he didn’t really consider Franco much of a threat, so he decided to ask him during testing. 

The two of them were gazing at you from across the pitlane. 

“Are you and her like... an official thing?”  

Franco scoffed “What is that supposed to mean?”  

“You know... do you love her?” 

Franco frowned at him.  

“No, I don’t. But just because we aren’t in a relationship, do not think for a second that I will let you have her” 

Ollie raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say I wanted to. I’m just curious.” 

Franco didn’t believe him. And Ollie didn’t believe Franco.  

And they were both right. 

Because the truth was that Franco was in love with you, but he was too much of a pussy to do anything about it. So he was fine with just sex, until he could muster the courage to confess to you.  

And the truth was that Ollie was going to do everything he could to have you. He did have feelings for you, that had been brewing for a while, but the added element of competition made him hungry. 

Ollie was nothing if not proactive. He took every opportunity to talk to you, and flirt shamelessly with you. 

And at first, you were reticent. 

You’d been waiting for Franco to make a move. You liked him, a lot. And you knew he liked you. So any day now, right? 

Except weeks went by, and still no indication that Franco was going to make any kind of commitment to you. Not even a drunk phonecall, or a proper date... 

So eventually, Ollie's advances started getting to you. You were only human.  

You had no idea that the two drivers were in any kind of altercation in Melbourne. 

Someone had spotted them having a heated argument and a blurry video was circulating around the more remote spots of the internet, so you missed it completely. 

In China, you got your first indication that something was going on. 

Before FP3, Ollie had come to you saying he wanted to talk to you about something important. 

You told him to meet you in your drivers room after the session, and that you had something to talk to him about as well. 

His heart swelled with hope. Perhaps you also had feelings for him and he was finally going to beat Franco. 

But then, Franco was there, in your drivers room, waiting for you after the session.  

“I’m waiting for someone, you need to get out before someone sees-” 

“I don’t care about Ollie, I need you so bad right now” he groaned into your neck while his hands worked to get your suit off. 

He’d never done anything so bold before. And as soon as his hands and lips were on you, you caved. He had his way with you on the massage table, doing his best to get the sweetest, and loudest, noises out of you in an effort to ward any lurkers away. 

One of said lurkers, Ollie, froze when he heard the noises coming from your room.  

His heart sank, Franco had gotten to you first.  

This time. 

You and Ollie both did terribly on sunday. You weren’t expecting a podium, but some points would have been nice. And Ollie DNF’d thanks to one of the Alpines (in his mind he blamed Franco, even though the Argentine wasn’t even in a car) crashing into him in turn 2. 

So you and him did the only thing you knew would lift your spirits. You went out drinking. 

You ended up in some club, and you knew Yuki and Pierre were there as well. 

You drank, and danced with the three men. Forgetting your worries for a night. You hadn’t had that much fun in a while, Yuki and Pierre were absolutely unhinged when you got a bit of alcohol down them. 

Ollie stuck by your side the whole night, and eventually your mind went back to the FP3 session. 

You dragged him outside to talk (the club was stifling, and loud as fuck), and he wondered briefly if there was something wrong because of the haste with which you’d grabbed him. 

“Ollie, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about Friday. I got... distracted”  a blush crept over your cheeks. 

Ollie found it adorable. 

“That’s okay” he pulled you into a drunken hug “At least you were making so much noise there was no chance of me walking in on you” 

You giggled shyly, nuzzling into his chest.  

“Oh my god... that’s so embarrassing” 

“Well, I suppose that was Franco’s way of staking his claim” there was an undertone of something almost bitter in the way he said his name. 

That was a very odd thing to say. Why would Franco even need to stake a claim? Unless... 

“Let’s go inside, I’m cold” you muttered, and Ollie led you back to the booth where Pierre and Yuki were arguing over whether Mijiu or Baijiu tasted better. 

You had no idea what either of them were, so you ordered a round of both for everyone to do a taste test. 

They were both awful in your opinion, so you ordered a round of shots of tequila to wash them down. 

It didn't take long before all of you made your way to the dance floor, inhibitions completely obliterated. 

In the back of your mind, you had a plan. Granted you were on the edge of blackout drunk, but it still made sense to you. 

When the song changed to something a bit slower and more... sensual, you shuffled closer to Ollie.  

If Franco had been trying to stop Ollie from talking to you, there had to be a reason, right? 

So you moved to the beat, rolling your hips enticingly as you sang along to the words. 

Ollie lifted an eyebrow in question, his lips curving into a drunken smirk. 

You bit your lip and got closer, hooking your fingers into his belt loops to pull him in. 

He got into the rhythm very quickly, and slid a hand around your lower back to hold you close while you danced. 

The tension was palpable, but the chemistry was undeniable as you moved in sync, rolling your hips to the heavy bass pumping through the speakers. 

Your faces were inches apart, separated only by your mingling breaths, and the rapidly dwindling amount of restraint you two had. 

“Kiss mee” you slurred, smiling up at him. You needed to know whether he wanted you as much as you wanted him. As if the way you were grinding on each other wasn’t enough. 

“What?!” 

“Kiss me!” you said, louder. 

His mouth opened, hesitation written all over his face, but he glanced down at your lips. 

Between the alcohol and the noise of the club, it was impossible to hear anything, so you mistook his hesitation for misunderstanding. 

You decided to get your point across by curling a hand into his hair and pulling him down to crash your lips together. 

He quickly got over the shock of it and cupped your face with his hands to deepen the kiss. 

You didn’t know how long you stood there making out, but it was long enough for Yuki to come and tell you that he and Pierre were leaving and that you could all share an uber if you wanted. 

The miniscule part of your brain that was still rational decided that you and Ollie should go with them, so you did. 

You had what you wanted anyway. Confirmation that you had two boys that wanted you. 

Japan is where you realised just how badly. 

You didn’t know about their arguments over the weekend, you just knew that Franco was trying to have sex with you every minute of every day, and that Ollie had a smug smirk on his face constantly. 

It was unnerving, really. 

On sunday morning, your team made you aware that pictures were circulating, of two blurry figures kissing in a club in China, next to two people who looked suspiciously like Pierre and Yuki. 

It was impossible to confirm who the people kissing were so you had nothing to worry about, but your PR manager asked you to please, for the love of god, be more careful. 

The race came and went, and you and Ollie both finished in the points. 

Yuki was taking Pierre to a karaoke bar that night, and in true Yuki fashion, invited you, Ollie, and Franco. 

The little shit- stirrer. And of course you knew the idea was probably a Yuki-Pierre collaboration. 

It was a bit awkward at first, both Ollie and Franco were trying to get your attention under the table with wandering hands, but you quickly shut that down. 

You and Pierre were up. You were singing a duet version of ‘My Way’ but Pierre sang his parts in french. It was hilarious. 

Yuki jumped onto the table and joined in within seconds. 

You were so into it that you didn’t notice Ollie and Franco slip out.  

Until the song finished and you looked down to see that the leather seats were unoccupied.  

You decided to go and look for them, and it didn't take you long to find them. 

The shouting could be heard as soon as you shut the door to the private room. 

You followed the voices all the way to the men's toilets, in which the two were arguing. 

You pushed the door open and couldn't help but laugh at the sight in front of you. 

Ollie had Franco in what seemed to be an attempt at a headlock, but while one of his arms was around Franco's throat, the other was pinned under Franco's weight against the wall. 

“Oi!” you hollered at them and they immediately let each other go, attempting to straighten themselves out. 

Ollie had a swollen lip and Franco looked like he'd had an altercation with a plug socket. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” 

“Nothing” “He started it!” “He said-“ 

“I don't care!” you shouted “get your asses back in there and behave!” 

You pointed towards the room sternly, and they quickly shuffled down the corridor with their tails between their legs. 

You managed to finish the karaoke without another incident, but you could feel the tension between them. 

The walls were closing in. It was becoming all too real to you all of a sudden. They both wanted you, and you didn’t want to choose, but you couldn’t exactly let them keep tearing each other to shreds over you. 

Shit hit the fan in Bahrain. 

They were behaving like animals. 

You couldn't speak to either of them without the other one getting jealous and pissing you off. 

Ollie didn't do FP1 because Haas had gave his car to a rookie for the session, which meant that both he and Franco were in the paddock during the session. Unsupervised. 

It came as a shock to everyone but you when they started openly brawling. 

You'd just got out of the car, and were getting weighed when you heard the commotion. 

“DON'T YOU DARE!”  

Crash. 

“MOTHERF-“ 

“YOU TWO STOP I-  OW!” 

You ran towards the two dickheads. Who were fighting in your garage. 

These two could not fight to save their lives. It was the stupidest brawl you'd ever seen. 

Your mechanics sort were hesitant to intervene, sort of standing around ready to step in as soon as there was any risk of them doing actual damage to each other. 

You didn't know who threw the first punch. You didn't care. 

The adrenaline was coursing through you so you went straight in, pushing the two struggling men down to the ground to destabilize them, then grabbed the shirt of the first one you could get your hands on. 

Which happened to be Franco. 

Someone next to you shouted “Yeah! Get your boyfriend!” 

“He is not my boyfriend, fuck off!” you shouted back. 

Your words had different effects. Franco’s heart broke a little, despite it being true, and Ollie now knew he had an undeniable chance. 

And everyone around you went “ouch” 

You dragged Franco away and threw him to the side, allowing Ollie to get back up and lunge at him. 

You blocked him, and slapped him, hard. 

You turned around and slapped Franco even harder. 

“Out of my garage, now!” you spat at them. 

They looked like they wanted to argue but you didn't even give them the chance. 

“I said, OUT!” you bellowed, and they looked at the crowd sheepishly before making their way out, in opposite directions. 

You didn't even entertain the small mass of people that were staring at you. You strutted to the back of the garage and made your way through the corridors to find a quiet place to think. 

You thought things couldn't get any worse, but of course, you quickly found out that a camera had wormed its way into the crowd and had broadcasted live the moment where you intervened and shouted at the person (who turned out to be Ted Kravitz) to ‘fuck off’. 

You were in your hotel room, looking through tweets about the footage, when a message popped up on your screen. 

“I'm sorry about earlier, can we talk?” 

It was Franco. 

“No” 

You left every subsequent message on read. 

About 10 minutes later a knock at the door interrupted you once again. 

It was probably your PR manager, coming to give you the 7th speech of the day about how “for the record, this is not what I meant when I told you to be more careful!” 

You looked through the peep hole and cursed loudly. 

It was Oliver fucking Bearman. 

You wrenched the door open. 

“What the fuck are you doing here? If anyone on my team sees you here we are both dead!” 

You dragged him inside and slammed the door shut behind him. 

“I wanted to come and explain-“ 

“No!” you whisper-yelled “There is nothing to explain! You and Franco have humiliated me, and yourselves today!” 

“But-“  

“There is no ‘but'! This shit stops now, I can't have my name dragged through the mud because you two wankstains decided it was a good idea to start fighting in my garage! Do you realise how that looks?” 

He looked at you guiltily and hung his head in shame. He looked almost small while sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“This whole thing has been a mess from the beginning! Because the truth is I like you both and I don't want to-“ 

You were interrupted by another knock at the door. 

Oh hell no. 

You stormed over to the door and wrenched it open again, revealing Franco in gray sweats and a dark hoodie. 

His attire told you everything you needed to know about his intentions right now. 

“Go away!” you hissed. “I told you I didn't want to talk” 

Franco glanced at Ollie still sitting on the bed and frowned. 

“So I am not allowed to be here but you invited him? That is not fair” 

“Oh for god's sake!” 

You dragged him inside, like you did Ollie, and motioned for him to sit on the bed. 

“You two are idiots!” You hissed. “What was that, today?” 

“We both wanted to go to your driver’s room to talk to you” 

“Yeah? And then you started fucking fighting!” 

“Because we love you!” 

“I can fucking see that, dipshit” you flicked Ollie's forehead “And thanks to you every motherfucker who watches Formula One also saw it, because you fought on live fucking television!” 

Ollie scratched the back of his neck sheepishly and Franco stared at the floor. 

And as if the universe hadn't punished you enough. Another knock rattled against the door. 

You turned around and watched in horror as your PR manager let herself in, and upon seeing the two men on the bed, stared daggers at them. 

“You two just don't know when to quit do you?” 

“I'm sorry about this, I didn't know either of them were coming they just turned up” you muttered. 

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Well at least this all seems a bit more mature than whatever the fuck happened in the garage earlier” 

She turned to you. “I've smoothed it over for you, given that you'd just come out of the car, and according to the footage you actually stopped the fight, so you won't be getting any fines or penalties. Although I would refrain from telling any Skysports presenters to fuck off anytime soon. No matter how much they deserve it” 

She turned to the other two. “I however do not have the power to save either of you, so my guess is you will be informed by your teams of any fines you may be getting.” 

She eyed you all sadly. 

“Please sort your shit out. What you do, or do not do behind closed doors is none of my business, but please stop being idiots in public, it makes my job so much harder, and I am not paid extra.” 

The two drivers had the decency to look ashamed as they apologised to her. 

“On that note, I wish you all good night, and please don't break any furniture” 

And with that she smiled softly and left, leaving the three of you in silence. 

“You heard the woman” you sat on the chair next to the bed and crossed your arms defiantly “Let's sort it out.” 

They looked at each other helplessly and you rolled your eyes.  

“Come on, what do you want?” 

Franco piped up first. 

“I want you. All of you. I have been in love with you for months but I’ve been a coward…” 

You nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his confession. 

You looked at Ollie. 

“I was planning on asking you out. But I got jealous when I found out you were with Franco… and then I uhhh… kind of made it into a competition. Trying to get you to like me back before Franco had the guts to tell you.” 

You hummed, not quite knowing what to say. 

“What about you?” Franco asked. “What do you want?” 

“I uhh…” you were almost intimidated by the two men staring at you. “Well… I like you both, so… either you can learn to share, or neither of you can have me” 

They looked at each other, seemingly having a silent conversation as they glanced back and forth between you and each other. 

The fact that they seemed to be entertaining the idea of sharing you was doing funny things to your brain. 

You imagined having them both at your mercy. Then your mind wandered to all the possibilities. 

The image of them making out briefly flashed in your mind.  

The butterflies returned to your stomach and you let your mind wander even further, Franco on his knees for Ollie.  

A voice suddenly pulled you from your thoughts. 

“Are you okay?” Franco asked, and you stared at his lips. They would look so perfect wrapped around- 

“Yeah, you look a bit flustered” Ollie chuckled. “What are you thinking about?” 

You bit your lip. 

“The two of you. Together.” 

A small blush crept up their necks and they squirmed uncomfortably. 

“We can share” Franco muttered, eyes darkening slightly. 

“Good” you smiled, standing up and slowly making your way towards them. “I want you both naked in the next 15 seconds…” 

They glanced at each other with wide eyes before hurriedly taking their clothes off. 

Once they were fully bare, they looked up at you expectantly. 

You grinned and swiftly sat down in between them. 

You pulled Franco in for a kiss, hands inching their way up the two men's thighs. 

You could feel Ollie's gaze on you so you turned your head and smiled at him before leaning in to kiss him. 

One of your hands went to touch Ollie's cock, which was half hard, and your other was met with Franco's hand, that he had already wrapped around himself while watching you make out with Ollie. 

You swapped again, Ollie's cock hardening at your touch, and at the sight of Franco pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

Then Ollie's turn came again, and he was fully hard by now, so you swept your thumb over his tip to make his hips twitch. 

You then stopped touching them altogether and leaned back on your elbows on the bed. 

“Now you two” you smirked. 

They looked at each other breathlessly, blush high on their cheeks and eyes lidded. 

They were hesitant, Ollie's hand weaved its way into Franco's hair to pull him in.  

It started out chaste, but still, the sight of it was truly something. 

You wriggled out from in between them and they looked at you in question. 

“Gonna lock the door” you muttered, jogging over to it. 

You heard a muffled “good idea” and turned to see them back at it, and this time with gusto. 

Their eyes were closed, so you undressed silently and climbed back on the bed. 

Ollie gasped into the kiss when Franco's hand made its way around his cock, squeezing gently before setting a slow, almost teasing pace. 

Franco trailed kisses along his jaw, making his way down Ollie’s chest, and the latter looked at you. 

His eyebrows jumped when he saw your state of undress. And went even higher when he noticed you were touching yourself. 

But it was quickly wiped from his mind when Franco’s lips suddenly made contact with his tip. 

He gasped, head whipping down to look at where Franco was kissing up and down his length.  

One of his hands once again found itself weaved into Franco's dark locks when the absolute tease decided to lick his cock from base to tip, while staring straight up at him through his lashes. 

“Jesus” he muttered “You've done this before haven't you?” 

Franco just winked, and took his cock halfway down into his mouth and sucked. 

The two of them looked ethereal, Ollie gasping for air while Franco sucked him down as far as he could go. 

Apparently Franco was doing something with his tongue, because Ollie kept throwing his head back and hissing. 

“Fuck- I'm not going to last long if you keep doing that.” 

Franco pulled off with a pop and smirked at him, pulling him in for another sloppy makeout. 

You were sitting there, two fingers deep inside yourself, and they were completely ignoring you. 

The irony of the situation made you scoff. 

“Guys… is either of you going to fuck me or…?” 

Ollie laughed and Franco started crawling up the bed towards you. 

“It would be my pleasure” he smiled. 

Ollie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Actually, I think you have fucked her enough, it's my turn now” 

He crawled up to you, and kissed you sweetly, pulling your hand away from your cunt and replacing it with his own. 

“God, watching us got you this excited?” 

You nodded shyly. “You two look really fucking hot together” 

He laughed, gummy smile making a brief appearance as he lined himself up, sliding his tip up and down your folds to tease you. 

“You ready?”  

“Of course” 

He slid home in one gentle thrust, and you moaned into his mouth when he leaned down to kiss you. 

Franco came to kneel next to your head and waited for you to take a breather before asking you to open your mouth for him. 

He slapped his cock against your tongue teasingly, and the wet noise caught Ollie's attention, who had been mouthing at your tits absentmindedly. 

Franco fucked you mouth in earnest, and when he noticed the pther man looking at him heatedly, leaned over to capture his lips in a bruising kiss... 

It was all over far too quickly, but the exciting novelty of the situation had gotten to them and they came together with a muffled whine. 

You then made them clean you up with their tongues, and the sight of both of their faces between your legs, taking turns lapping up your juices, just felt right. 

If they could share, and not be too obvious about it, then the rest of the season should be a breeze. 

You sent your PR manager a hefty check, with a note. 

“Thank you for putting up with our shit. It's been sorted <3” 

[jigglethemballs]

Edging König for a week

You randomly mentioned it to konig one evening.

“So you think you could last being edged for a week?”

“Pff, of course! Do you know all the things i’ve seen and been through? Edging wouldn’t even be a challenge for me”

warning: edging, sub konig, soft dom reader, chubby/fat reader, denial, public masturbation, dramatic description of everything, unprotected penetration, unchecked for spelling mistakes don’t come for me

Day 1

You were seated on his lap on the couch. The tv being long forgotten, it’s only purpose now playing some faint background noise.

You’re now making out with konig and already feeling a bit fuzzy.

Your tongues are softly rubbing against each other, yours and his saliva becoming one as you both breathe heavy.

“My love aren’t i meant to be edged?” He asks when you break the kiss and target his sensitive neck.

“You are yes and this is part of it”

You suck on a specific area on his neck making his hips jolt up, applying pressure on both your covered private parts.

“König! Stay still” You scold him not expecting your needy pussy to be stimulated so suddenly.

“Can’t help it love” He smirks.

You quickly decide to get rid of his annoying smirk by humping down on him. Your pussy perfectly aligned on his stiffness.

“Fuck” He hisses, smirk now completely gone.

And that’s all you need to continue. You pick up the pace, making you both groan in pleasure. The pressure on your clit making your eyes roll.

König head is rolled back enjoying the feeling of you humping on him.

“Just like that, doing so well” He mumbles softly.

You’re both panting and konig starts to get louder. His groans turn into soft whimpers and his eyes are glued to your clothed parts rubbing on each other.

“Love i don’t think i’ll last” He whimpers ready to cum in his pants for you but before he realizes, the oh so delicious building pressure is gone.

He quickly looks up at you, confused and dazed.

“Good luck lasting the entire week” And you get off of him.

He looks at you wide eyed, desperate for more. The wet patch on his sweatpants of where his tip is indicating his precum leaked everywhere.

Day 2

He couldn’t sleep. Not with you laying besides him. He wonders how he’s supposed to last the entire week like that. Maybe he underestimated it all but it’s only the second day no way he can give up now or even admit it.

Youre getting ready for a night out with your girlfriends to celebrate one of their birthdays. König is laying on the bed while you try on some clothes to show him. You come out of the walk in closet with a dress showing all your pretty curves he loves so much.

“Does it look good?” You ask while looking at yourself in the mirror

He walks up to you and stands behind you grabbing your body from behind.

“You look delicious my love” He spins you around and tries to kiss you before you stop him.

“My makeup! You’ll ruin it” You protest and get out of his grasp.

You eventually go out and come back home around 1am. Your feet and head are throbbing and the only thing you want is to get in bed and sleep.

You enter your shared room and your precious man is stroking himself.

“Can you give me hand please” He says not even surprised you caught him.

“I’m sure you can take care of it yourself” You reply back and lean against the doorframe

His hands falters a bit but he just keeps going. He rubs his oozing tip and maintains eye contact with you.

“Don’t you want to help your desperate man?” He asks between groans

“You’re a big boy aren’t you?” You say back earning a whimper from him.

He starts stroking himself at a faster pace. His eyes never looking away from you. To tease him you slowly strip out of your dress. That has an effect on him as he whimpers louder.

“Love, touch me please” He pleads, honestly he looks great like this, a bit of sweat coating his forehead, his hand going up and down his precum coated dick.

You don’t reply but get on the bed. Laying your head on his thigh close to his stroking hand.

“Ah, ah i’m close” He says, eyes closing on their own

“Don’t you dare” you say firmly and he halts his movements

Panting he plops down on the bed and you caress his thigh.

Day 3

He’s already at his limit. How is it possible that his dick and balls have been throbbing nonstop since yesterday?

He wakes up hard, walks around hard. All he can think about is cumming. His mind flooded with the thought of being inside you and spilling his warm seeds.

You’re currently making dinner, you’ve seen a recipe you wanted to try and have been cooking away for an hour now.

König is desperate but he can’t admit defeat yet. His ego far too big. He walks up to you in the kitchen and immediately he’s twitching. The sight of you so domestic. Wearing a cute apron around your soft body clinging to your stomach.

He walks up behind you pressing himself to your behind.

You feel his hand on against you and decide to let him be. Noticing you don’t react to his presence he starts humping your ass.

It turns you on how desperate he seems to be. One arm around you he holds your shoulders and pants in your ear.

“Let me fuck you please, i need to feel her around me”

You just lift up your skirt exposing your soaked and naked pussy. He looks down at your naked body and removes his pants at the speed of light. Before he can do anything you stop him.

“You only get to fuck my thighs, understood?”

He groans dissatisfied but still listens. He guides his tip between your soft thighs pressed against each other, softly wetted by your slick running down

“Fucking hell” He moans and fucks your thighs at a quick pace.

“Baby let me fuck you properly, you’re being edged too here aren’t you? Let me pleasure her she’s so wet” He moans out in your ear.

As tempting as it all sounds you don’t give in.

His movements start to get more aggressive but also sloppy. His voice a pitch higher and you know that means he’s close.

“König don’t cum!” You warm him reminding him he has to stay on edge. Not long after he slips himself out of your pudgy thighs letting out a disappointed groan.

Day 4

He wakes up in the middle of the night sweaty and hard. All he can think about is your warmth enveloping his dick.

You’re sound asleep next to him and it takes everything inside of him not to wake you up. He grabs his dick and starts pumping it while looking at you.

A few pumps won’t matter right?

He’s staring at your pretty lips he’s used to have around him, your body he hasn’t properly grabbed in god knows how long, your beautiful tits he can stay between for days.

He gets closer to you and starts sniffing you. He doesn’t know why or what he’s trying to smell but he just wants more of you.

His lust filled mind can’t think straight now. He’s trying his best to stay quiet but his mouth isn’t obeying his orders.

Quickly he’s close to the edge. He doesn’t want to disappoint you but he’s also so desperate for that sweet release.

But as the good desperate boyfriend he is he slowly comes to a halt and stays up all night, dick reaching for the ceiling.

Day 5

Today you were both away busy taking care of your personal schedules.

His body is on autopilot, no external information is processed by his brain. Once again all he can think about is your hands and body all over him. He wants to taste you, touch you, fuck you. He’s losing his mind for real.

His phone buzzes while he’s having a conversation with someone about whatever, he doesn’t even know himself. And he nearly cums in his pants looking at the content of your message.

It’s a picture of your pussy, well not really. You’re wearing panties but the evident wet spot on them nearly makes him pass out.

You add a text.

“Go to a bathroom, fuck yourself for five minutes to this”

And he obeys right away. Rudely excuses himself from the conversation and almost trips into the empty bathroom.

His pants are down in a heartbeat and he’s stroking himself. The pretty outline of your pussy in the image making it hard for him to not spill right away. He looks at the time, only one minute went by and he’s already so close.

He slows down his movements. He can practically taste and smell you through the screen. He remembers all the times he’s been between those juicy legs lapping at your folds. He’s hungy, he’s thirsty, he needs you NOW.

And once again before he cums he stops and exactly 5 minutes have passed.

Day 6

Only one more day, only one more day, only one more day, only one more day.

His body is reacting to everything you do. If you’re just talking, hes foaming at the mouth looking at all the shapes your mouth makes. If youre walking around the place, hes admiring the movement of your hips and all the jiggle of your body.

He’s losing his fucking mind.

Today you want to get him to admit it’s difficult. So for that you bring out the big guns. Them being your mouth and hand.

You pushed him against the wall after what started as a few innocent kisses. His dick already forming a prominent dent in his pants.

“Please i need you so bad” He whimpers. You are so happy he’s so desperate and needy it’s such a good look on him you’re thinking about going for longer next time.

But right now you pull down his pants and grab him. He hisses between his teeth and his knees already want to give in.

You look up at him before giving a small lick at his tip.

“Fuck! I’m close” He moans grabbing your face.

You only smirk at him before fully taking in his dick. The warmth of your mouth nearly makes him die. He’s never had his senses enhanced so much. He’s floating on a cloud.

You slowly suck him off. His moans are stuck in his throat all he does is thrust forward into your throat.

His eyes are closed but you are sure they are rolled back as far as possible.

His dick and balls start to throb indicators of how close he is. And you let go with a pop.

He doesn’t even react. His body weak, his mind blank. All he does is stay put trying to control his breathing. And remembers he gets to cum tomorrow.

Day 7

Today is the day. He made it.

Currently you’re making out in your bed. He’s touching you, hungrily.

His body is so weak though, the entire week took a toll on him but still he wants this to be great because you basically edged yourself for as long as he did too.

“Let me taste you yeah?” He whimpers between kisses. And he leaves a trail of kisses down you body until your bare cunt.

She’s so pretty and delicious, he missed her so much.

He dives in not giving you any time to adjust to the pleasures. He sucks on your clit getting all sorts of moans and groans out of you.

He humps his dick into the bed, precum leaking so much it looks like he came already.

One finger of his rubs your entrance making you spread your legs even wider. He starts finger fucking you. His lips still sucking at your clit, you’re seeing stars.

“König fuck!” You moan his name and hump his face.

Suddenly you pull him up.

“Put it in, now” You order him and he gladly obeys.

“I won’t last” He enters your warm and wet folds.

His ears buzz, the world around him disappears. It’s just him and you. The pleasure he feels is otherworldly. And just like that, he cums.

He shoots ropes of cum inside of you, coating your delicate walls white. His body is shaking and his moans are loud.

He collapses on top of you.

You rub his back and give him many kisses all over his face.

He is spent.

“Never again” He says still inside of you.

“I was thinking about doing it for two weeks next time?” You say and he looks at you with horror.

[mylovesstuffs]

Ot13 and what scares them about love

Request: Hey can u do a headcanon ot13: what scares them about being in love.. or love in general? (Like not being enough, losing control, potential heartbreak… smth like that) thanks a lot:)))

A/N: I added the little bullet notes under each member’s part just in case any of you have similar fears—so that you can be reassured that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Personally, I struggle with the fear of being hard to love. It’s something deeply ingrained in me, though I won’t elaborate further. I just wanted you all to feel a little better. At the end of the day, these notes aren’t really for the members (as if they'll see this lol)—they’re for you. This headcanon (sorta) felt surprisingly personal, and writing it made me reflect on so many things about life and love in general. To the anon who requested this, thank you. Your idea was truly unique, and it gave me a space to pause, think, and see things from a different perspective of svt and others.

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Seungcheol – The Fear of Failing as a Partner

How I see him is that, he carries a deep sense of responsibility, and that extends to love too. His biggest fear is not being able to protect or take care of his partner the way he wants to. He worries about not being emotionally available or strong enough when they need him most. The idea of letting someone down, especially someone he loves, weighs heavily on him.

Seungcheol, you’re doing your absolute best, and that’s more than enough. Your love is a safe space, and no one could ever doubt the strength you bring to those around you.

Jeonghan – The Fear of Losing Himself

Love is beautiful, but it’s also consuming. Jeonghan fears that being in love might make him lose parts of himself—his independence, his ability to make rational choices, or even his sense of control. He’s afraid of how much power someone else could have over his emotions, especially since he’s always the one in control of his own heart.

Love doesn’t mean losing yourself. The right person will embrace all of you, allowing you to be both independent and deeply connected. You don’t have to choose between the two.

Joshua – The Fear of Unreciprocated Effort

I feel like he’s the type to love deeply, wholeheartedly, and unconditionally. But what scares him is the possibility of loving someone more than they love him. He fears investing everything into a relationship, only to find out that his feelings are not returned in the same way. He doesn’t want to be left wondering if he was ever truly enough.

Shua, you are more than enough. Any love you give will be returned in full measure. You’re so kind and caring, and someone who sees you for who you are will love you deeply in return.

Jun – The Fear of Being Misunderstood

Jun is a deep thinker, and his emotions often run slowly beneath the surface. He worries that no matter how much he loves someone, they might never truly understand him. He’s scared of feeling alone in a relationship, of opening up completely and still not being seen for who he truly is.

The right person will understand you in ways you never imagined. Your depth is so precious, and there are people who will cherish every part of who you are.

Hoshi – The Fear of Love Fading

Love, to him, should always be full of passion and excitement. But he fears that over time, feelings might dull, routines might set in, and the relationship could become something ordinary. He wants love to always feel exhilarating, and the thought of it losing its spark terrifies him.

The most beautiful love grows even stronger with time, and the quiet moments are just as powerful as the loud ones.

Wonwoo – The Fear of Not Being Enough

Wonwoo is reserved, and deeply introspective. He worries that he won’t be able to express love in the way his partner needs. He’s afraid that his way of loving through actions rather than words, might not be enough. The idea of someone wanting more than he can give haunts him.

Wonwoo, your love is already enough. The way you care, through your actions and your presence, speaks volumes. Anyone who truly understands you will appreciate the depth of your heart.

Woozi – The Fear of Losing His Dreams for Love

As we all know, he’s very dedicated to his craft and his passion for music runs deep. While he’s capable of deep love, he fears that being in love might take away the time and energy he’s poured into his dreams. He doesn’t want to choose between love and ambition, but he’s afraid that, in the end, one might have to come before the other.

The right person will support and inspire you to keep chasing your passions while loving you in the most meaningful way.

Dokyeom – The Fear of Hurting or Disappointing Someone

Seokmin has such a big heart, and his worst fear is accidentally hurting someone he loves. He always wants to be a source of happiness, but relationships aren’t always perfect, and the thought of being the reason for someone’s pain is unbearable to him.

Kyeom, your heart is pure, and your love only brings joy to those around you. Anyone who is with you will feel lucky to have such a loving and kind soul in their life.

Mingyu – The Fear of Being Too Much

He loves intensely, and sometimes, that can feel overwhelming. Mingyu worries that his enthusiasm, his affection, and his deep emotions might be too much for someone to handle. He’s scared of loving someone with all his heart, only to be told that it’s suffocating.

Gyu :(( your love is perfect just the way it is. No one will ever think you’re too much. You are a warm, bright presence, and the right person will embrace all of that with open arms.

Minghao – The Fear of Losing Freedom

Love is beautiful (2), but Minghao values his independence. He worries about feeling trapped or restricted in a relationship, about losing the ability to chase his own passions freely. He wants to love without feeling like he has to compromise parts of himself.

The right person will love and respect your freedom while still sharing in your journey together.

Seungkwan – The Fear of Heartbreak

He loves hard, and he knows that means he has the most to lose. The thought of giving his whole heart to someone only to have it broken is terrifying. He’s scared of the kind of pain that lingers, the kind that changes a person forever.

Kwannie, your heart is strong enough to handle anything. Love will come with its ups and downs, but your ability to heal and grow will make you even stronger, and you will find a love that never breaks you.

Vernon – The Fear of Not Being Able to Express Himself

Vernon thinks deeply but doesn’t always voice everything he feels. He fears that his inability to always put his emotions into words might make his partner feel unappreciated or uncertain about his love. He doesn’t want to lose someone just because he couldn’t say the right things at the right time.

Anyone who truly cares for you will understand the depth of your feelings, even in silence. You don’t need to explain everything—you show it.

Dino – The Fear of Not Being Taken Seriously

As the youngest in svt, he’s used to being seen as playful and energetic and his partner will also know this persona just like we do. But in love, he wants to be seen as a dependable partner. He fears that no matter how much he matures, there will always be a part of him that people don’t take seriously. He doesn’t want to be seen as a ‘kid’ in love—he wants to be seen as someone who can love deeply and be a strong, steady presence in his partner’s life.

Dino, your maturity is not measured by age but by the love you give. Anyone who loves you will see the depth of your heart and appreciate the amazing, steady partner you are.

[lov3darlings]

darlings thoughts, figureskater!reader (18+)

cw: slight angst, bashing other skater lol, multiple orgasms, crying, mean!lando

lando sighed as he puts away the guy equipment. "mate you good?" his trainer, jon asked. "yeah, just a lil tired. let's continue this tomorrow," lando says getting up and wrapping up the gym session. lately, you and him were getting into arguments about you not spending enough time with him. "lando, the olympics are so near i cannot slack off, like at all," you yelled at him earlier the week. and since then the entire house was silent. both of you giving each other silent treatment. unable to understand another.

he drove to your rink. you mentioned something about having practice with another male skater because you both were selected to do some gala show together. the said male skater was recently blowing up for his numerous attempts to keep up with you in terms of jumping quads. but obviously lacked the skating skills as you do.

"it's pure bullshit! i am sick of this. you can't even hold the edge for lutz." lando hears you yell. your coaches declare a small break. your fellow skater leaves the rink, "to get freash air," he said, taking the coaches with him. you lean against the boards, body hot from sweat and anger. lando does the same, from the other side of the board. "what happened to my good girl? yelling at everyone now are we huh?" he humms.

your head shots up at his voice. "baby," your immediately filling up with tears. lando moves to hug you over the boards. "i'm so sorry," you sniffled as he rubs your back. you squealed when he lifted you over the boards. "you don’t understand how angry i am right now," he says as you mumble a string of apologise in his ear. standing on your tip toe to reach his height, despite still being in your skates.

"how about sucking me off as an apology," he hums. lando lets out a chuckle as your hands reach the waistband of his pants. "darling we're at your ice rink," he says. "do you want them to hear you being such a slut?" he added, pulling you into a hug. them, in question being your male partner and your coaches. "i dont care who’s outside," you reply as the older man held you in his embrace

lando pulls you into a kiss, his hands caressing your neck as he kisses you. it wasn't a gentle kiss. it was rough, as if he was desperate for it. he kissed you like a parched man, as if your lips was the water he needed. he pulled away as the burning sensation in his lungs grew, saliva still connected to your lips. "i want to make a mess of you," he says, breathing heavily. his fingers running through your hair strands, pulling onto a few of them.

"he's terrible. can't even hold a deep fucking edge on a lutz," you complain making the man chuckle. "yeah i heard you. don't you worry you'll be twice loud when moaning my name."

lando was man true to his words. he did made a mess of you when he had you at his mercy on his bed. moaning his name, like it was some holy mantra, twice as loud you were yelling.

he placed his lips on yours. heated kisses, his hands on your bare skin, yours in his curly hair, lips nibbling, biting, moaning into his mouth. it was one of those kisses that left you heavily breathing after.

"where do you need the most huh baby?" he teased, despite know the answer very well.  you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and guiding him to where you desperately need him, your cunt. "fuck, you're soaking wet for me, baby," he says.

lando smirked as he maintained eye contact while he gathered the wetness from between your legs with his fingers and sucked it off a little with a satisfied hum. he bought his fingers to your lips "clean my fingers, this is your mess," he commanded.

lando moves down between your thighs. he lazily licked at your sweet slit as he nosed at your clit. your hands gripping on his curls. he groaned a little at the soft touch. his tongue moving in circles as you pushed yourself closer to his face, practically begging him for more.

which was exactly what he was giving you. pushing two finger inside you. his lips and tongue slurping, sucking, and licking at your clit. you eyes rolled back as he pulled, what? thrid orgasm from you. lando makes sure to lick you clean. "fuck, sweetheart," he groans, smearing your cum all over his lips, breathing heavy, and lean up to kiss you with it.

"suck on it." he commands, leaving you suck whatever was left on his fingers. "good girl," he praised. lando doesn't give you another moment to ride down your high as he inserts his cock in your cunt. "lando wait—" you whined. "take it like a good girl and stop whining," he barks.

lando didn't move. instead he started kissing down every inch of your body he possibly can, murmuring against your skin how beautiful you are, showing how much he loves you. but it wasn't the time. you were far to needy for the man. "if you want something, you have to use your words," he mummrs.

"baby please, please, please, please fuck me, please," you whined. and that's all it take to get lando started, after all how can he ignore such a pretty angel who was warming his cock and begging for it. he rocked his hips in you with such pace that you saw stars, groaning and cursing in your ear.

your nails started scracthed his back again. lando hissed as you accidentally drew blood. he held your both wrists with his one hand. arms over your head, mouth gaping while he groaned, pressing and thrusting himself up into you. "just, like that, oh.. god," you mumble.

something that lando knew about you was that you often teared up as you reached your fourth orgasm. "gonna cry? go ahead cry f'me baby. let me see it," he said as the tear works starts flowing. he knew that you were sobbing not because it hurt. but because his cock was kissing the softest parts of you.

lando laughed at you as more tear drop fell. he actually fucking laughed. the sound had you squeezing his cock harder, and lando only laughed harder, his laugh mocking you. "tu, tu, tu, such a cry baby," he says wiping your tears. feeling cocky that he made such mess of you.

"oh—fuckfuck—lando," you gasped as you came around his cock. "oh my god—lan! it's too much!" you babbled, but lando only jutted his bottom lip out in a mocking pout. he loved you, truly he did, but there was a thrill he got from seeing you cry. cheeks puffy and wet with your trembling, parted lips. it was his favourite sight. "so pretty when you cry," he groaned as he finished in you. using his fingers to stuff his cum back in you.

"come 're," he says pulling you in his embrace, falling next to you. his fingers traveled down to your swollen cunt. "lan—too sensitive," you curled up to him as he fingers you at a tortures slow pace. "you've been too good for me tonight darling, just a lil more," he whispers.

"oh gosh," you sobbed on his chest as you feel your orgasm take over you. lando inserted another finger in you making you latch onto him tighter. "so pretty, so obedient," he praised. "that's it, there we go," he says as you cum all over his fingers again. lando pulled out his fingers from you with a faint pop. sucking on your cum that coated his fingers.

he then kissed you making you taste yourself on his lips. "so pretty for me," he muttered placing a soft kiss on your forehead. lando looked down at you, "i love you," he whispered. you smiled, feeling butterflies for the man next to you. "i love you too," you pecked his lips making him smile.

[shurisneakers]

hey I wanna say I absolutely love your writing ,English is not my first language but your writing cracks me up every time I absolutely adore your work! I wanted to throw in an idea for misery loves company because I really like the grumpy×grumpy ,what about them being loners/grumpy in a wedding,maybe it's Steve's or someone else on the team and they share a quiet dance on the balcony or something so yeah that's my idea ,again love your works ♥️♥️♥️♥️

a/n: hello! thank you for your kindness and for sending this in, I hope you like it <3

this is part of misery loves company but is just a stand alone fic. you don’t need to read anything before this

warnings: swearing, light angst

You slip out before the first toast.

The balcony is quiet, the air sharp against your skin. Below, the city hums, distant and indifferent. The music is still loud behind you, but out here, it’s muffled, softened by the wind.

You don’t belong inside.

The thought comes unbidden, bitter in your mouth.

So the balcony is cold, the air sharp against your skin. The city sprawls below, distant and untouchable. The music inside is muffled now, voices blending together, champagne bubbling in glasses. It’s still too loud.

You lean against the railing, fingers gripping the cold marble. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you don’t care.

You exhale, press your palms against the railing, giving yourself five seconds before you call an Uber to get home.

Behind you, the door creaks open.

"You gonna jump?"

You hear the shuffle of his shoes against the floor as he leans beside you.

You close your eyes. "Go back inside. Make someone else's night worse."

"Yours already looks terrible, I've got a headstart," Bucky says, stepping up beside you.

You don’t turn, but you can feel him watching you, his presence taking up too much space in a very spacious balcony.

"You left early," he grunts out.

"So did you," you mutter.

"Yeah," he says. "People started looking at me like they wanted to ask me to dance."

You scoff. "You just think everyone’s in love with you."

"You're not proving me wrong," he points out.

"You're the most insufferable man I know."

"Honoured."

You finally glance at him. His tie is loose and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

"Why are you out here?"

Your grip tightens on the railing. "Why are you?"

You know he sees it.

"You gonna actually answer," he says coolly, "or are we going to keep doing this?"

You exhale sharply, looking ahead. "DJ’s shit."

"It’s a live band."

"Then they should’ve hired a DJ."

His mouth twitches, but his eyes don't move off you.

"Try again."

"No," you say flatly.

He tilts his head at you, expression unreadable.

It makes you feel like your skin is on fire. Weddings are hard. Weddings with him around are even harder, for reasons you can't put words to.

A beat passed and he finally pushes himself away from the railing.

You're about to make some biting comment, when instead--

"Dance with me."

You blink. "Are you concussed?"

"Not recently."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "If this is some kind of sympathy thing-"

"Jesus," he mutters. "Yeah, I wanna pity dance with you, that's exactly what's happening here."

"Then what?"

He shrugs, "You think you're the only one who's angry?"

Your jaw tightens, teeth harsh against each other.

"We don’t have to talk," he mutters, like he's tired. Like things are hard for him too. "Just dance with me."

You stare at him, skeptical. He stares back, unbothered.

Instead, you grab his hand, passive-aggressive, like the universe owes you something for putting him in your life.

"Step on my feet, I break your kneecaps."

"For the record, I was a good fuckin' dancer."

"There is not one person left alive that can corroborate that," you scoff.

It's a joke, but you're acutely aware that maybe it's exactly why this is hard for him.

He pulls you in, a little stiff, like neither of you actually know how to do this anymore.

The music filters in from inside, something soft, but the two of you aren’t moving right to it.

He sways, slow and easy, like it makes all the sense in the world.

It pisses you off that somewhere, it starts feeling that was for you too.

"You're terrible at this," you mutter.

"So are you," he grumbles.

You scoff. "You said you were good at dancing."

"Yeah, well," he exhales, "people say a lot of shit."

You roll your eyes, but you don’t let go.

Neither does he.

The wind picks up. His palm presses a little firmer against your back. You don’t know what to do with that.

"You think you’re mad now," he mutters, "just wait ‘til I do this."

You frown, "What are you plann-"

You barely have time to react before his lips brush against your forehead.

It’s quick, warm, and a little unpracticed, like he thought about it too hard but did it anyway.

Your fingers tighten against his shirt. Not because you want to hold on. But because you don’t know what else to do with your hands when something shifts in your chest.

"Jes—"

"Shut up," he says, and it's the closest you've heard him come to pleading. "Five more minutes."

The words sit between you, heavy and unspoken.

You don’t know if he’s talking about the dance or something bigger.

Five more minutes.

Like you’re not running out of time. Like something in the world could belong to you, even if just for a little while.

You close your eyes. Breathe him in.

And five minutes stretch on longer than they usually do.

[vigilxntesht]

𝙠𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙤-𝙚𝙪𝙡 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 — “let me take care of you.”

ִ𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — kang no-eul (guard) x female reader (player)

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 — this is my first fanfic ever and english isn’t my first language so please forgive me if isn’t perfect

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 — 2k

𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚

she’s been watching you—observing you. she’s intrigued by you, drawn to you. and now, she’s ready to make you hers.

you sit on your bunk bed silently. the soft, warm glow of the lights only makes the harsh reality of what you just witnessed feel more surreal. the deadly game of ‘red light, green light’ still echoes through your mind—the brutal violence of each person caught moving, shot right on the spot. you are alive only because a man called gi-hun had guided you, giving you instructions that helped you stay still. apparently, he has played these games before. despite the help, you’re deeply shocked. you have no idea what to do. how on earth had you ended up here?

you stare at the dry, hard sandwich in front of you, the nausea twisting your stomach so tightly that taking a bite feels impossible. your tracksuit was covered in a few spatters of blood here and there, each drop a cruel reminder of everything that just happened.

you close your eyes, hoping for a moment of peace, but instead, the faces of countless innocent lives lost only hours ago invade your mind. after a while, you give up, settling on the edge of the bed, the silence heavy and suffocating. you wait for the night to crawl by and for the next brutal game to begin.

the other players around you begin to quiet down, drifting into an uneasy sleep. some, like you, remain awake. your gaze catches the man from earlier. what was his name again? oh, right—gi-hun. he meets your eyes and offers a smile, but the smile is hollow, full of terror. you give a slight smile in return, then quickly redirect your attention, focusing on the cold, hard floor instead. you can’t afford to get attached in here. not with the dangers lurking around you.

two hours of heavy silence strike by. most of the others, including gi-hun, have drifted off into a restless sleep, but not you. you’re exhausted, sure, but sleep refuses to come. that’s when you suddenly feel it—someone’s watching you. you turn around instinctively, but there’s no one there. a cold shiver runs down your spine, an eerie feeling begins to settle in your chest. what if someone’s sizing you up, thinking you’re an easy target? you frown and shake off the thought. it’s nothing. probably.

still, that feeling lingers, creeping under your skin. it’s as if someone’s eyes are boring into you, watching your every move. you turn around, but—again—there’s no one in sight. just as you’re about to brush it off, a deep, cold voice cuts through the silence.

“eat. you need the strength.”

your heart stops. the words hang in the air, making your breath catch in your throat.

immediately, you turn around, scrambling to the far side of the bed when you spot the pink guard standing at the foot of it. what the hell?

“who the fuck are you?” you snap, voice thick with defiance. “what do you want from me?”

the guard seems unbothered. she doesn’t even flinch. doesn’t react at all, actually. she just stands there, cold and silent. her silence feels heavier than any threat you’ve felt in here.

you frown, frustration bubbling up, before you remember the question she asked before.

“….im not hungry.” you mutter, your voice tight.

“too bad,” she replies, her tone sharp and demanding. “i wasn’t asking.”

you don’t know why she came up to you, but given the fact she’s the one holding a gun, you reluctantly take a bite of the sandwich and swallow it. you look at the guard, your lips twitching slightly as you feel your stomach already starting to reject the food.

“happy now?”

she doesn’t answer, walking away without a word, returning to her position by the door. but your impulsive thoughts take over, and you call out, stopping her.

“hey, wait!”

her fast pace slows to a stop, but she doesn’t turn to face you.

“the guards are not allowed to talk to the players.” she says flatly.

you frown, the words sparking up more curiousity in you.

“then why did you come up to me?”

there’s a flicker— a barely noticeable flinch— and for a moment, she’s silent, the weight of her hesitation hanging in the air. finally, she speaks, her voice cool and neutral.

“…because you seemed lost.”

the words catch you off guard. she doesn’t say anything else as she turns away and walks back to her position, leaving you with a knot in your chest and a dozen questions you’re not sure you want the answers to. you’re left in the silence, trying to make sense of it, but she doesn’t seem like she’s about to come back and explain.

with a sigh, you follow her advice and finish the sandwich. you finally manage to close your eyes, drifting into an anxious, uneasy sleep.

the next morning, as soon as you wake up, you’re eyes dart around the room, searching for the mysterious guard from last night—but she’s nowhere to be found. before you can dwell on it, a sudden need to pee takes over. you head to the women’s bathroom, knowing the guards don’t let anyone in outside of bathroom hours. so when your knocks go unanswered, you’re not surprised.

just as turn your head back to your bunk, a soft click breaks the silence. the door behind you unlocks.

“player 241. come in.”

as you turn around, the strange sensation from last night washes over you again. you can’t see her face, but somehow, you just know—it’s her. the guard.

without a word, you step inside the bathroom, offering a subtle nod as a thanks. she says nothing. the silence affects you more than it should.

after finishing your business, you walk over to the sink to wash your hands, but the moment the door clicks shut and locks, your body freezes. slowly, you glance to the side. she’s standing by the door, watching you.

your pulse quickens. a lump forms in your throat.

“what do you want from me?” your voice wavers. “please… don’t kill me.”

she scoffs, a quiet, almost amused sound, before taking a step closer.

“kill you?” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. “now, why would i want to do that?”

confusion swirls you. who is she? why won’t she leave you alone?

the woman steps closer, backing you into a corner. you search for an escape, but there’s nowhere to go—and nothing to say. she extends her hand, offering yet another dry, unappetizing sandwich. you sigh out in frustration.

“i don’t want this! i’m not hungry and they’re disgusting—”

“there’s a clue for the next game inside.” she interrupts dryly.

you fall silent and your breath catches.

“eat it,” she continues, unwavering. “you’ll find a slip of paper hidden inside. you can thank me later.”

you stare at the sandwich, your mind racing. a clue? the guard turns to leave again, but this time, you’re faster. you step in front of her, blocking her way.

“no, wait! you don’t just get to walk away. i want answers.”

your voice is firm, but there’s a tremble beneath it—partly from irritation, partly from the submachine gun slung across her chest.

she stops, tilting her head slightly. “answers, about what?” her tone is flat, unreadable.

“about… this. about why you’re helping me. about who you are.”

silence stretches between you. for a moment, you think she won’t answer. then, without warning, her hand moves to her mask.

she pulls it off.

deep brown eyes meet yours—sharp, intense. pale skin, dusted with freckles, is flawed by a fresh cut along her cheek. her lips are cracked and swollen, as if she’s been biting them too much. despite everything, she’s… beautiful. breathtaking, even. she exhales, running a hand through her damp, sweat-matted hair. then, locking eyes with you, she speaks.

“kang no-eul.” she says boldly.

“what?” you’re still struggling to process everything happening right now.

she sighs in slight irritation. “my name. you asked for my name. it’s kang no-eul.”

to your embarrassment, the sound of her low, steady voice sends a warm blush creeping up your cheeks.

“oh. um, my name is—”

“i know.” she cuts you off smoothly, a small smirk playing on her lips. “i know who you are. i’ve been observing you.”

you take a hesitant step back. “…observing me?”

her expression doesn’t change. “the way you shut yourself off from others. the way you always seem to be lost in thoughts. the way you‘re constantly one step ahead of the other players. you’re intelligent, aren’t you?”

there’s something unnerving about her tone—half admiration, half something else. something colder.

“but.. you’re a guard.”

you meet her gaze, and instantly regret it when you feel your cheeks flaming up again. god, get it together!

a barely-there chuckle escapes her lips. “good observation.” she doesn’t look away. her eyes, dark and mysterious, shimmer with something you can’t quite place.

you lean against the cold bathroom wall, burying your face in your hands.

“what the hell is going on..” you whisper to yourself.

the guard—kang no-eul—takes a step closer, resting a hand on your shoulder. her expression remains neutral, but there’s something in her eyes. a glimmer of something almost… affectionate?

“hey. don’t be like that. you’re underestimating yourself.”

you lift your head, shooting her a glare. “you don’t even know me.”

she laughs. it’s not the reaction you expect, and the sound sends a chill down your spine. it’s confident. unbothered. she’s not intimidated by you in the slightest.

“maybe,” she says, smirking. “but i do know this—you should stop whining and get it together. because no matter how smart you are, crying won’t get you anywhere.” her words sting more than they should. you slap her hand off your shoulder, your anger taking over.

“leave me alone.”

within seconds, she grabs your wrists again, tighter this time. not just firmly, but demanding.

“listen to me,” she hisses, her voice sharp and low. “i’m risking my life to help you. so you better do as i say before i end up scraping your corpse off the game room floor.”

you freeze. her grip is solid, her words slicing through the air like a blade. for the first time, real fear creeps in.

she notices. the tension in her hands shifts, and just as suddenly as she grabbed you, she releases your wrists. slowly, her fingers trail up to your face, brushing against your cheek. it’s a stark contrast—gentle, almost.. tender.

you don’t understand what’s happening. you don’t understand her. but the second her touch meets your skin, something stirs deep inside your stomach. butterflies.

your gaze flickers to hers. your eyes linger on the fresh cut along her cheek. how did she get that?

“do you think you can do that?” she asks, voice softer now. “listen to me?”

you hesitate, unsure. her hand moves again, this time gripping your chin, tilting your head until your eyes lock onto hers. her hold is firm.

“i’m talking to you.”

you swallow hard and nod.

“use your words.”

you don’t know why you’re listening to her, why you’re obeying so easily— but you do. something about her presence, her voice, leaves no room for resistance.

after a brief pause, you whisper: “yes. i’ll listen to you, kang no-eul.”

she smiles, slow and satisfied. “good girl.”

you shiver as she speaks those words. you barely know her, yet something about her pulls you in, an invisible force you can’t resist. it’s dangerous. it’s intoxicating.

but she doesn’t give you time to process it.

before you can react, she leans in, pressing her lips to yours— soft at first, almost teasing. but then the kiss deepens, growing more urgent, more possessive with each passing second. at first, you’re too stunned to move, frozen under her touch. but then, instinct takes over. you melt into her, kissing her back passionately, your hands finding their way to her arms, her shoulders.

she hums softly against your lips, her slim fingers threading through your hair as if she’s known you forever. as if you already belong to her.

“just like that, darling.” she murmurs, her voice a breathy promise.

“let me take care of you.”

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 10 - From Makarov With Love

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: Cannon typical violence, death, suicide bomber, it's a war drama what can I say.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

People silently move into positions, they look between each other, their eyes darting between each other. There’s hand signals you’ve seen people use before but you don’t know what any of them mean. Soap grabs your arm pulling you over to the sofa, you turn frowning at him as there’s another knock at the door.

“Hello? I was told to come here. I could really use some help.” A voice calls in Arabic. Price turns to look at you.

“They’re asking for help.” You say, your heart is thumping in your chest. They sound young, you feel sick. Price and Ghost stack up on the door. When it opens there's a boy standing there, he’s older than a boy, a teen maybe 17, 18. He has an Al Qatala headband on. He’s holding his hands up.

Price reaches forward, gripping his arm and pulling him in. Ghost closes the door then lets go of his weapon letting it swing down next to him. His hands run up and down his legs. His eyes are locked on to you, you feel guilt. Maybe you smuggled this guy for Al Qatala, maybe he knows you, you don’t remember everyone.

You doubt it. It doesn’t take long before Ghost’s hands stop. He pulls the coat on the person open. Your breath catches in your throat, you gasp. He’s got a bomb vest on. Ghost backs up.

“Christ.” Soap’s voice is almost angry as he walks past you over to man. You don’t know what to do or what to say. Al Qatala do this, you’ve never seen someone with one on before. You’ve seen them on tables, you’ve smuggled C4 and over explosives for Al Qatala before.

This is real though, now you’re seeing it in person.

“What’s going to happen?” he asks, he sounds scared. You swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“You’re the one with the bomb.” You reply. It’s all you can think to say. Price comes to stand next to you.

“What’s he saying?”

“He wants to know what’s going to happen.” You say looking up at him.

“Soap?” Price calls.

“It’s on a timer, it’s not pretty but it shouldn’t be too hard.” He says he sounds confident. Gaz moves over to help him. You feel sick, you’ve helped cause this. He looks young, he probably had no idea what he was signing up for, like most of the people Al Qatala or the ULF recruit.

“Who sent you?” You ask him. It’s a stupid question but you don’t care, talking keeps you calm, it’ll probably keep him calm too.

“The Butcher. He said it was my time.”

“I thought he was in Russia?” You say, he doesn’t say anything. You take another step towards him trying not to spook him.

“Did you blow up the car?”

“The ULF are traitors!” he snaps putting his arms down.

“Woah woah, eazy.” Soap says as he and Gaz stand back, your eyes flick over to Ghost who still has his weapon trained on him.

“Tell him to keep still.” Price says.

“Keep still or they’ll shoot you.” You say to him. He stops moving, turning to look at Ghost.

“Good then I will take you all with me.”

“We’re not ULF.” You snap at him. He looks back over at you frowning.

“You blew up the base, you’re in a ULF safehouse.”

“This is a ULF safehouse?” You ask, trying to play dumb. He doesn’t say anything, his hands come black up as Soap and Gaz approach him again.

“The ULF killed my father and my brother.” He says, you sigh sympathetically.

“Mine too.” You say. There, that's how they do it. When you’re young and vulnerable looking for someone to blame. You tried to run and leave the country you called home all your life. Some people, the unlucky ones end up like him, scared, following orders they probably don’t even agree with. All they need is the promise of a better afterlife, one where they don’t have to worry about war, the loss of their family, everything is better in Jannah.

In another world you might have ended up like him. Married of to an Al Qatala general helping the cause to take down the people you blame for both your parents death. Maybe it was a good thing you were too scared to stay, war scared you as much as the next person. You weren’t exactly willing to die for a country being torn apart by terrorists.

“What’s going on?” Price asks, leaning in closer to you.

“He was sent by Al Qatala, he thinks we’re ULF. They killed his father. He planted the bomb on the car.” You explain, you feel sorry for him, he thinks killing you is going to bring him and his father piece. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Alone?” Price asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you alone?” You ask him.

“No.” He says, that makes your stomach drop. He’s being watched, someone making sure he completes the job. Making sure there are no lose ends.

“He’s not alone.” You say. You hear Price sigh. You take another step towards him watching Soap and Gaz mutter cutting wires.

“How old are you?”

“17.”

“You look older for your age.” You say, you see a little smile from on his lips.

“I was the tallest boy in my village.” He says.

“I bet you were-”

“Shit.” Soap’s voice cutting through the air makes you stop. He stands up straight looking at the boy before walking over to you and Price.

“I can’t stop it. If I cut anymore it could go off.” Soap says, he looks serious, his face dark eyes sullen. It’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. Price lets out a long sigh.

“Can’t we just take it off him?” You ask.

“It’s hardwired into the clips, pull them and it’ll go off.” Soap says.

“What do we do then?” You ask, you know you’re not going to like the answer.

“I managed to disconnect the shrapnel, when it goes it’ll be contained.” Soap says. When, When it goes. It makes you feel sick. You look back over at him.

“There has to be something you can do?” You ask urgently. You can feel your heart pick up speed.

“We can make sure we survive.” Price says. “How long do we have?”

“Five minutes,” Soap says. You look up at him shaking your head, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe you kissed him.

“What do I tell him?” You ask Price as Soap goes over to Ghost.

“Tell him he’s going to be okay.” Price says darkly. You look at the boy, he’s frowning watching Soap and Ghost talk.

“He’s just a kid.” You whisper, you don’t mean for Price to hear you just hate it. You hate what’s happening right now.

“They always are.” He breathes, crossing his arms.

“Are you sure they know what they’re doing?” He asks.

“Of course, they’re experts.” You say, you force a smile. He nods the frown leaving his face. You can’t see the timer from here. Soap said 5 minutes, you’re trying to count in your head.

“Where are you from?” You ask him.

“Sakhra. What about you?”

“A little town in the south, it was destroyed when the fighting started.” You say swallowing the tears back. You need to keep your cool. You watch as Ghost moves ever so slightly, his weapon dipped in his arms. Soap opens the front door.

“What’s going on?” He asks, suddenly straightening up.

“Nothing, it’s going to be okay.” You lie, why does lying come so easily even now. You’re not sure how long is left, you stopped trying to count. Soap and Ghost move, getting into position to pull him out the door and leave him out their until the inevitable happens.

It’s cold and calculated, self preservation. He would be dead anyway, at least this way only he will get hurt. You hope there's an afterlife, Jannah or heaven, even just some kind of limbo, you hope he can see his father again.

You see Soap nod. It happens fast. Gaz steps out the way and Soap grabs him from behind. You don’t mean for a yelp to leave your throat as his screams breaks the silence in the air. You feel Price grab your arm pulling you across the room and into the kitchen. You stumble letting him pull you, pushing you behind a wall, Gaz joins you next.

You can hear him shouting, shouting for help, banging on the door that has been locked in his face.

Soap and Ghost come round the corner next. There’s a few seconds of silence then an explosion. It shakes the house, the smell of gunpowder and sulfur fills the air. Everyone walks out the kitchen. You take a second to collect yourself. Price letting go of his tight grip on your arm.

When you make it out the front door has been blown open and the window smashed in. There’s surprisingly still a body, you can’t look at it for too long.

You feel ill, he was just a kid, 17 years old. You never even asked his name.

…

You’re laid in bed staring up at the ceiling of the house. After what happened no one had the stomach to eat. Ghost and Gaz cleaned up the body, putting it in the shed. You wanted to bury it but Price said it was a waste of time, he promised the ULF would come by and deal with it. You didn’t believe him.

You were worried someone was watching the house but after Price and Soap did a sweep of the area he’s convinced whoever was watching had gone. Regardless he still said someone should be on guard just in case. He didn’t try talking about his plan to go to Russia again, he just ordered everyone to get some rest.

You can’t sleep though, your mind is plagued, you can’t get his shouting out of your head. You just threw him out in the cold to die. He must have been terrified. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe you’re not built for this type of job. Soldiers kill people, so do the ULF and Al Qatala, maybe you wouldn't mind being stuck in a war room right now. It’s easier to hear about these things then witness them first hand.

You get out of bed, you can’t sleep. You might as well see if Price is still awake, maybe he’ll let you keep watch and then he can get some rest. Besides he probably sleeps better after these kind of things then you.

When you make it out into the hall every door but the bathroom is closed, you can hear snoring coming through one of them. At least someone is sleeping. You make it down the stairs and see Price leaning back on the sofa with a bottle of something on the table and a half filled glass. He doesn’t have a hat on, he’s almost always wearing one. He watches you walk and sit next to him on the sofa.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks. You lean back, shaking your head. “Want one?” He asks leaning forward to pick up his glass.

“I don’t drink.” You say, he hums finishing his glass and putting it back down on the table.

“You should get some sleep. I can keep watch.” You say pulling your legs up onto the sofa.

“It’s okay, we’ll be leaving in a few hours anyway. You look over at the window you helped Soap board up with some wood you found out back. There’s a chill in the building now.

“Do you still plan on going to Russia?” You ask. He nods.

“We have intel Jamal and Khaled are still in Volgograd.”

“How?” You ask frowning.

“CIA contact, they were able to do some snooping for us.”

“What about Al Qatala?”

“They’re still moving south, it looks like they’re going to be targeting ULF bases, Farah and Alex will have their hands full.” Price says as he reaches over to refill his glass.

“How did they know we were going to attack the base, they blew the car and sent a suicide bomber after us.” You say. He sighs again bringing the glass to his lips.

“Konni has more info than we think. Makarov is normally smarter, this isn’t like him.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Sending Al Qatala after us, something’s changed. Why Al Qatala and not Konni, people he trusts. He’s desperate.” He talks sounds like he’s talking to himself a stream of unbroken thoughts, you almost don’t want to interrupt him.

“Or maybe he just really wants you dead.” You sigh.

“Then he would have done a better job.” He looks over at you.

“You did good today.” He says, you shake your head looking away.

“I wish we could have saved him.”

“We can’t save everyone.” He finishes his drink off, putting the glass back on the table. “A Lot of the time it's us or them, we don’t always have the luxury of a choice.”

“So I guess you still want me and Soap to go back to Farah tomorrow.” You ask changing the subject. He nods. “We’ll be in contact let you know when you should come up.”

You don't say anything turning away and looking back over at the stairs, you’re not in the mood to fight with him.

“If you’re still willing to work with us?” He asks, you turn back to look at him. He's got blue eyes like Soap, his look darker, the circles under them deeper. You nod, he smiles, his hand comes to lay on your thigh. You freeze at the contact, his hand is warm, he squeezes it then gets up.

“You should try and get some rest, you have a long trip tomorrow.”

“So do you.” You say swallowing the saliva that’s built up in your mouth. You can feel heat rushing to your cheeks, he smiles at you then heads into the kitchen. You close your eyes, squeezing the bridge of your nose. You’re emotional, you’ve had a long day. There’s no way you’re crushing on Price too.

Next

Banners by plum98

[skribbledarker]

Back on my bs with another Zosan brainworm…. post Skypiea feels

—

Sanji, after having his “I needed a light” moment and getting shocked head-on by Enel, gains big lichtenberg scars that never fade. They’re darker than his usual skin tone, spiraling down the back of his neck, the entire expanse of his back, then curling around his shoulders and hips.

he hates them. Sanji thinks they make him look diseased, or like Frankenstein, sort of.. He doesn’t think scars are bad or ugly, no. It’s just the way they look on him.

He goes to so many lengths to hide them from the rest of the crew; he takes showers after everyone else is asleep, and his short-sleeved shirts get pushed to the back of the closet.

Chopper’s the only one who’s seen them. well, until Zoro. Somewhere in between when they didn’t like each other and when they suddenly did, the swordsman catches Sanji late at night in the bathroom, shirtless and twisting around himself to look at his back in the mirror.

Somehow, they end up on the floor, Sanji sitting cross-legged on the tile, hunched over with red tipped ears as Zoro sits behind him, taking his time tracing the patterns over Sanj’s skin.

“Do they hurt?” Zoro asks, grazing a calloused thumb over the back of Sanji’s neck.

“Sometimes. they sting when it gets cold.”

Zoro doesn’t say anything for a long time. Sanji feels like a bug under a microscope, just sitting there, being inspected like this. He finds himself zoning out— he doesn’t want to be here right now. This is embarassing.

“I like them.”

“Huh?”

And then Zoro’s hands are smoothing over Sanji’s shoulders, warm and careful like he’s handling a blade. “What, you don’t? It looks badass.”

no, they really don’t. “No. It looks…stupid.” Ugly, is what Sanji wants to say, but he doesn’t. The word suddenly seems a little too crass for whatever’s going on right now.

“Do mine, then?” Zoro counters, and that’s different. Zoro wears his like a collection, each mark a record of battles he’s won and lost and a testament to the shit he’s survived. Sanji hasn’t ever been blemished like that, barring the faint lines on the bridge of his nose still barely visible after eleven years. The scars just look out of place on him. Like they aren’t supposed to be there.

“No, no.” Sanji shakes his head. “Yours are— are badass.”

Zoro pauses again. “They look like vines.”

“Oh, so i’m sprouting greenery like you, now?”

That gets an exasperated huff out of Zoro, and Sanji can feel breath fanning over the back of his neck. “Stop, ‘m serious.”

It’s frightening, kind of, being laid bare under the watchful eye of someone else like this. Sanji can’t even see Zoro (well, besides his hands), but it’s almost like he can— the weight of his gaze falls heavy on Sanji’s back.

“Of course you are.”

A chill slides up Sanji’s spine when Zoro’s hands slide down to his waist, thumbing at the spots where the scars encroach onto his stomach. “ ‘s Pretty.”

Sanji’s throat suddenly feels dry, because the admission of pretty feels less like a descriptor of the lightning bolts spiraling down his back and more about him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Never thought I’d hear you call something ‘pretty,’ you brute.”

“Maybe you needed to.”

Maybe you needed to. Fuck, Maybe Sanji did.

—

gughhhh this was supposed to be a little drabble but got out of hand so fucking quickly??1!1?1?

anyways i want to shoot both of them dead lololololol

i also love projecting my self-image issues onto Sanji…. my blorbo AHHH

[rottenbologna]

Letter to Lia

pairings~ lia walti x reader

genre~ angst

warnings~ short and sweet

Lia sat in her kitchen sipping her coffee, the quiet hum of the morning on one of her rare day off settled around her as she looked at the envelope addressed to her resting heavily on her kitchen table. It was thin but it weighed heavily given she hadn’t expected to hear from y/n again especially not like this. It had been almost a year since their relationship ended and the last time they’d spoke to each other but taking different turns towards healing.

With trembling hands, Lia opened the envelope. She immediately recognized the cursive writing as yours before taking a deep breath and scanning over the carefully written words.

Dear Lia,

I know I'm the last person you were expecting but there’s a few things I felt you needed to know. A few things I felt like I owe you. 

It’s strange that this is the path life has taken us down given all that we shared. I never imagined I'd be going through life without you. When we first met I'd never imagined that it would have turned into something so meaningful and real as it did. You brought a breath of fresh air to my life which I thought was rather mundane, a light to a darkness that I didn't even know was dwelling. I remember the color of your eyes and how you weren't aware that they glistened like stars in the night. Your laugh that still rings in my ear to this day and the way you’d taken on everything life threw at you with a smile on your face. How we’d stay on the phone until late talking about anything and everything until you fell asleep I’d watch you as you slept hoping that I could do enough to hold you and take away your pain. Those were the best parts of my day.

But as we know life doesn’t always lead us down a path we hope for. Whatever we had as strong as it was just dimmed until it eventually faded. I don’t think we both knew how to adapt to everything around us and sadly the change was too much for us to hold on. I’m sorry I wasn't perfect and I couldn't be what you needed. But we tried and I think that was the best we could do.

Even though what we had was over I just needed you to know that I’m thankful for everything. Thank you for showing me that I'm deserving of love that I deserved to be heard and listened to. Thank you for being the one that took that time to listen. Even though we’re parted now the time we had together no matter how brief is so important to and has shaped me into someone i never believed i could be. So many memories I'm happy to take with me even when it hurts and for that I want to thank you.

All I wanted was for you to know I don't expect us to pick up where we left off or to ever speak again. I just needed you to know that I haven't forgotten the good parts of us. You’ll always have a special part in my heart.

Thank you for everything lia. 

Take care 

Y/N.