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romanoffsbish · 2 years ago

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Through the Eras

Natasha Romanoff x Fem(Stylist)!Reader

Natasha was a master of disguise, she didn’t need any help in that department, but Fury had a different plan, and she didn’t feel a need to push back when she saw it unfolding. Aka, Natasha is a simp for R, and this is them falling in love over a decades time.

2011-IM2, 2012-OG Avengers, 2014-Winter Soldier, 2016-Civil War, 2018-IW, 2023-EG

All Canon besides EG.

Warnings: Violence, Death, Grief, but like mostly happy/fluffy.

Smut: Bottom!Nat, Oral/Strap(N), Praising.

2002

Natasha was hesitant about being in America, the land where a donut could be bigger than the size of someone's head, and where majority of experiences were rooted in fake niceties. Nothing about the foreign country felt like home to her, not that she knew much about such a feeling, but she knew it was best to get acclimated seeing as how she hadn't been given much of a choice. Either she give her life away to this organization, or she die at their hands.

Upon entering the SHIELD base her green eyes were tracking any and all movements as she trailed behind Agent Barton, the man she swears fealty to for sparing a wretch such as herself from a perceivably deserved death.

The agency is like nothing Natasha had ever seen before, majority of the agents here wore basic black suits with ties like you'd see on an individual working a 9-5, not so much at a government agency full of professional spies and assassins as she knew it to be.

Back in the Red Room the men employed by General Dreykov were almost always sporting full tactical suits like the cowards that they were to keep the little girls in line, and to surround the man for safety purposes. Here though, as Clint escorts her to the man in charge she doesn't see him with a team, no, it's simply a man in a trench coat, wearing an eye patch with a raven haired woman to his right.

"Romanoff.," the odd man with the eye patch nods at her stoically., "Barton here has decided to take a chance on you, don't make us here at Shield regret honoring that choice.," his hand reached for hers, she observed the gesture with hesitation, but eventually she met his attempt.

"Welcome to Shield Agent Romanoff, Hill here will escort you to your quarters, good luck."

—

2011

After nine years Natasha had yet to find the people of New York bearable, but she's learned to make due, and has acclimated very well as a good spy is trained to do, but moreover she had found she began to crave the perceived American dream. Over time she proved her expressed loyalty to the Director, as well as her mission partner turned family, and successfully crawled up ranks until she reached a Level 6.

With climbing ranks came more respect and then with that came new responsibilities. For years now she'd listened to Nick drone on about his determination to build a group of remarkable people to fight the battles that the bulk of your everyday people never could.

"Seriously Fury?," she scoffed while looking over the many files., "This guy is remarkable?"

"Stark is many things: a billionaire, arrogant, even a pompous asshole, but if you can look beyond the overly jelled back hair, and childish antics you'll see he's untouchably intelligent."

"Is that why he's letting himself die then?"

"Listen, Romanoff, I did not assign you this case for you to question my judgment.," he groaned, and ran his hand over his face., "You're here because I need eyes on the inside, and someone who can break him down until he accepts our help, and joins the good fight."

"So I'm your eye candy?," she scoffs, arms now folded across her chest as she glares at him., "Look, it's not ideal, but in part, yes you are."

"I don't appreciate such a deduction, I'm a skilled agent.," he nods., "Yeah, which is why you'll be gathering me intel, and helping the pitiful man who's too weak to help himself."

Natasha continued to glare, but Nick just moved passed it as he's grown used to her pushback over the years., "You're on your own in the field, but Coulson's on standby, and I've assigned Y/L/N to assist you when need be."

"The agency's hairdresser?"

"Now who's deducing?," you snarked from the door as you strolled into the room., "I also do your makeup, pick out your clothing, and keep your mind stimulated when you're bored."

Natasha glared at you for your interruption, but it was in vain, she always found your presence rather pleasant, even if she's only ever been able to experience you in passing thus far.

"I take it the two of you got it from here then?"

After you both nodded at the director he left the room smiling, and Maria smiled back., "Playing matchmaker now, are we Nick?"

—

Natasha's face never wavered when you made decisions for her, she was not one to push back outwardly if she didn't know you well, but you could detect the faux indifference in her eyes.

"Well, you seem to not be down for the bob, or the fringe look.," you called her bluff., "What about if I were to make you bald, super sexy.," she unexpectedly smirked at your teasing.

"Not sure Stark's into the bald type, have you even thought about that?," you grimaced., "Now Natasha, why would I ever care about a mans opinion? I don't usually think of men, let alone their opinions on a clients appearance."

Natasha's stoic expression returned as you spoke of her so professionally, she wanted to frown, but she knew it wasn't right since you were also here for a job. Now she's starting to understand the whole eye candy trope, as she's essentially procured you here as her very own.

"How about we darken your natural shade a little bit, and add extensions?" you held up the desired shade, and the glint in her eyes had you sold, even if all she did was shrug indifferently.

—

Natasha's body stiffened when your hands fell on her hips to turn her., "Something is off.," she frowned., "Gee, thanks Y/L/N.," you smirked, then made a 'aha' noise, spinning her back around before dropping your hold on her.

"Well?"

"Oh, sorry.," you smiled sheepishly., "Tuck the shirt into the pants, it'll be more form fitting."

"That was your big save?," she chuckled while doing exactly what you said, a smile on her face as she silently agreed with your judgment call.

"Don't mock me Romanoff, or I'll make sure to give your nose extra attention with my blush."

Natasha smirked cockily, a snide joke on the tip of her tongue, but instead of speaking, her breath was hitching when you straddled her lap, and nonchalantly began her makeup.

"Uh, Y/L/N.," you hummed, makeup sponge in hand as you prepared to apply her concealer., "Is there a reason you're sat in my lap?"

"There are no other places to sit in this tiny bathroom work space Romanoff, and there's no way I'm standing on my feet for over an hour.," your answer was playfully spoken, but serious.

"An hour?," you stifled a laugh at the sight of her scrunched features., "It's just make up."

"Do I question your fighting process?"

"I guess not.," she softly replied, her mind was a bit too focused on how you were so close she could feel your breaths to really push back, plus, she didn't really mind the proximity.

She became so distracted by you that she failed to hear the way your breath hitched after her arms unconsciously moved from dangling by her uncomfortably to wrapped around you.

"Done.," you swiped the stick over her lips, and stood up, much to Natasha's disappointment.

"How do I look?," she asked, and you turned to her with a playful smile., "Like a million bucks, you can say thank you now like a civilized person, or later after you wow the billionaire."

Natasha smirked, it excited her a bit to hear a tinge of jealousy in your tone, it told her this whole connection wasn't exactly one sided.

"Thank you krasivaya.," she left a soft kiss to your cheek, your knees nearly buckled, and you were praying for your sake she didn't see that., "Natasha, your lips weren't dry yet.," you chose to scold her to take the heat off of your bodies previous betrayal just before catching her off guard as you gripped her chin, and reapplied.

"Good luck."

"Why would I need luck when I apparently look like a million bucks?" she mused., "The money hungry fool will be under my spell in seconds." a playful wink was thrown your way as she left, but you were smart enough to know she was telling the truth, she had the kind of effortless beauty that could be used to topple regimes, and to your misfortune, your sensitive heart.

—

"What's your name lady?," Tony Stark, her op, immediately shouted at her as she entered, and she turned to him with a neutral expression., "Rushman. Natalie Rushman."

You giggled., "James Bond, really? You're such a cliche Romanoff," you could just feel the eye roll she was likely being forced to internalize all the while wondering why she agreed to your unhelpful proposal of wearing ear pieces.

Natasha wanted to smirk at your comment, because she was very much a cliche in this moment, but she had to remain in character as the "hot woman" from legal, and to get in Tony's good graces she agreed to a sparring match with his security guard, Happy Gilmore.

"You ever boxed before?"

"I have, yes."

"Oh boy, is he in for a treat.," you giggle, and Natasha smiled at the sound, and fortunately for her it seemed to fit in the moment anyways.

"What, like the Tae Bo? Booty Boot Camp? Crunch? Something like that?"

"Oh, no the fuck he didn't.," you verbalized aloud what her very expression did, you heard her clear her throat, and frowned, the woman you knew would've given him what for, but you knew she was forced to remain cordial here.

Tony called out to her, causing her to deviate her attention momentarily, and for Happy to believe that this was a teaching moment.

"Rule number one, never take your eye off your opponent."

"Rule number one, don't be a misogynistic douche.," you grumbled, and to your extreme delight you could hear Natasha grunt, and all other parties either shrieking or groaning.

"Atta girl."

Natasha rushed out shortly after the incident, and after dropping off the paperwork in her hand she made her way back to your hotel.

"I took the liberty of ordering room service.," you said as soon as she plopped beside you on the bed in her casual clothes., "I also used the company card to rent Moonraker for you."

Natasha slapped your arm lightly., "You're going to hold this against me for life, huh?"

"Ooh, I'm a for lifer?," she smiled softly at your tease, it was too soon to know really, but her heart fluttered at the idea of a forever with you.

"Who else will do my hair and makeup? Me?" she scoffs playfully. "I'm too high ranked to be expected to do such mundane, easy things."

"For that cruel dig I am eating the bonus chocolate covered strawberry!" you grumbled, she cackled as she swiped it from the tray and was met with your glare. "No, I don't think so."

Instead of chasing her down you laid out like a starfish on the mattress. "I heard the couch is comfortable, I hope you find that true," she gasped at your insinuation, then if only to show off she lifted you effortlessly, laid down beside you, and pressed play. "I'm sorry Y/L/N."

"I won't hold it against you Rushman," you rolled to your side, then faced the screen just the same. "Good, I kinda need you on my side."

——

The following day you were expected to make her look fancy, so you set her up in a red dress, and did a simple makeup look. "Have fun."

"Oh my, did I forget to tell you that you're coming with me," she looked at you innocently, but the glint in her eye screamed of mischief.

Your voice expectedly cracked, "What?"

"Pepper said I could bring a plus one, and Fury said I could bring you, so go get ready toots."

Natasha waited patiently on the edge of your shared bed on her phone, hardly listening as you grumbled from behind the closed bathroom door. "This is so uncool, I didn't bring anything fancy to wear," you peaked your sopping wet head out to pout at her in the hopes that you'd be spared going, but she held up a garment bag while smirking tauntingly, "Hurry up now malysh, we can't be late."

—

Natasha's hand settled over your hip as the two of you entered the venue together, you were in a black suit with a red dress shirt to match her dress, you looked like a couple, and the thought of the possibility made your skin burn, and it had your heart skipping with a doomed hope.

"Oh, who's this beauty?" Tony grasped your hand without asking, pulling it to his lips, and you grimaced as he pressed them to your hand. Natasha saw the disgusted look on your face, and instantly spoke. "This is Zoe Rushman."

"So beauty runs in the family then?" she shook her head, and pulled you even closer to her side. "No, it's a bit premature on the name, but she's my fiancé, and if the laws pass in our favor we'll be tying the knot next Spring."

Tony nodded, then took his leave to God knows where, and to be clear you surely didn't care.

"We're engaged?" Natasha spun you in front of her and leaned into your ear. "Yes, I will not subject you to Tony's flirting if I can avoid it."

"I thought you were meant to entice him."

"Not anymore, I already secured my spot, so really this is mutually beneficial." she mused, and you chuckled. "So I'm your arm candy?"

"Precisely," she kissed the corner of your lips, it felt real, but you reasoned it was for the sake of your story, so you shoved the feelings down.

"Natalie?!" you both turned to see a distraught blonde, you peered up at the small screen she was gawking at, you saw Tony racing in a car, then you saw a man with electricity tentacles also on the track. "Well that can't be good."

Natasha tended to a frantic Pepper, then she escorted you out of the venue. "Take her to the hotel," she instructed a shield agent, and you realized he must've already been on standby.

"Be careful Nat." She smirked. "I always am."

—

After working tirelessly to save Tony's image, she returned to the hotel at ten at night in desperate need of a shower, and some sleep. When she entered your shared space it was dark, and she made quiet work of tending to her needs before slipping in bed besides you.

"You're back.," you slurred, one eye flying open to confirm it was indeed the redhead., "I am."

"Did you get your dinner?"

Natasha smiled appreciatively, "I ate already, Pepper ordered us takeout, but thank you honey, I put it in the fridge for tomorrow."

You hummed, too tired to really respond, and Natasha watched you slowly fall back to sleep with a smile of pure adoration. A gasp left her lips only moments later though, her smile never dissipated, it morphed into a shocked one as you'd unconsciously scooted across the mattress and threw an arm around her waist.

"Good grief, you're going to kill me," she slid her arm underneath your neck, and allowed her other to lay over your body protectively., "And I'd die happy if you did," she whispered before allowing the unfamiliar comfort you brought her to help her fall asleep with ease.

A full nights rest was something incredibly foreign to her, but it consumed her tonight.

——

Natasha just left you downstairs, even with the last event ending in chaos she wanted you at this party with her, but first she had to assist Stark as was her job, "Do you know which watch you'd like to wear tonight Mr. Stark?"

"I'll give them a look," he sighed while fixing his shirt. "I should cancel the party, huh?"

"Probably," she turned to look at him, and brought him over a martini she'd prepared.

"Yeah, because it's uh—," he paused, and she promptly finished his thought, "Ill timed."

"Sends the wrong message."

"Inappropriate," Nat confirms with a sly smirk., "Is that dirty enough for you?"

He sipped it, then immediately deflected back to the watches, and you grimaced at the way she flirted so easily, a little reminder that this was all a ruse, and she wasn't yours to have.

Natasha sat besides him, not because she was interested in the man, but because she wanted to have a closer look at his declining state as collecting intel was part of her overall mission.

"It's hard to get a read on you, where are you from?" Tony asked while she applied some concealer to his marred up face. "Legal."

You snorted, and the redhead heard it, and could picture your eyes rolling right now.

"Can I ask you a question, hypothetically?" Natasha only stared at him, but he went for it anyways. "It's a bit odd, but if this was your last birthday party you were ever gonna have, how would you celebrate it?"

"I'd do whatever I wanted to do, with whoever I wanted to do it with," she followed her answer up with the clicking of her heels, but stopped as he asked a follow up question. "Like Zoe?"

"Precisely," she hoped you could hear the truth in her tone, but if you didn't she'd find a way to make it clear to you after this whole mission.

Before you could wipe away the hopeful smile Natasha was at your side, slipping your near empty glass from your hand to down it all. "Drinking on the job Natalie?" she smirked over your glass, "Have you met my boss?"

Natasha beamed as you giggled, because not only does the sound illicit a warmth within her, but she knew you understood that she meant Director Fury just as much as she did Tony.

With an elegance in her movements the redhead settled your glass down, and brought you onto the dance floor as a slow song played. There was a comfortability that you were shocked to find yourself feeling with her in such a short time frame. Natasha was always an enigma back at Shield headquarters, but now, out in the field she was easier to read.

Just like you she craved exhilaration, you found it out in the wilderness on off days, and in the salon mixing up products to transform people into whatever they wanted to become. Natasha found it on stealthy missions, where she was able to kick peoples asses, and make the world a safer place for all that inhabit it.

There was still an air of mystery to her, which you expect being so new to this undefined dynamic with her. You didn't expect all her walls to drop at once, but the fact that any have dropped tells you that she trusts you enough.

Before you could make an honest move, like kissing her as you dreamed, an actual wall fell.

Natasha quickly pulled your face to her chest, shielding you from the glass, and as soon as Rhodey said to get out, she was pulling you both to another room, and softly cupping your cheeks, "We need to get you out of here."

"I don't break that easily Nata-."

"Natalie!" you grimaced at the shrill voice of the angry blonde, and Nat softly groaned before turning to her cordially, "Miss Potts."

Before she could say much to Nat about her speculations, she was dragged away by Happy, and you were much the same by Natasha.

"I think I'm your bad luck charm," you mused from the passenger seat, and Natasha softly sighed as she parked the car, "No, I actually think you're much to the opposite Y/N."

The both of you entered the hotel, taking turns slipping out of your dresses, and when you sat down on the bed Natasha's eyes widened., "You're hurt?" you shrugged. "Occupational hazard," you turned to face her, heart melting at the show of genuine concern on her face, but the happy faded fast when her eyes hardened.

"No, you're the all around stylist, not an agent."

"I'm more than that," your voice was small, and she immediately regretted her choice of words. "I-I know, but you still had no business being out in the field, and it's my fault you were."

"I'm okay Nat, it's only a scratch, and if it were to have been more I have combat training."

The redhead left the room, and your shoulders deflated, but then she came back with a couple wine coolers, a soft smile and a first aid kit.

"Let's get you all patched up soldier."

—

Natasha frowned as you entered the Stark expo hand in hand, "I don't have a good feeling about this," she groaned, and you squeezed her hand. "Nat, we already committed to this whole fiancés facade, so until we're through with the mission here I'm coming along."

"I could've told Pepper you're sick."

"Who's sick?"

"I thought I had a cold, but turns out it's just allergies," you answered, and held your hand out for her to shake as you'd yet to introduce yourself yet even after seeing each other.

"Zoe right?," you nodded convincingly, "It's lovely to finally meet you, Natalie here speaks of you so fondly, I'm almost kinda jealous."

"Aww, baby, you talk to your boss about me?" Natasha's face tinted a light shade of pink at the painful, exposing moment, and you did all that you could to stifle your teasing laughter. "You're just a total sweetheart," you mused and followed your teasing words with a gentle kiss to the already blushing woman's cheek.

"Well, shall we get seated?" Natasha managed to pull it together enough to brush right passed the moment, and escort Pepper to her seat.

It doesn't take long after the exchange for shit to hit the fan, and after Natasha roughed up Tony's business rival the two of you were in a car with Happy on the way to save the day.

"When we arrive I need you to watch the perimeter, I'm gonna enter the facility and take down the target," Natasha instructs, and you go to glare at her but are shockingly met with her undressing, and then you felt the car swerving.

"Watch the road," you growled at the man in the drivers seat, then you lifted your suit jacket up to shield Natasha as she changed out of the black dress and into her body defining catsuit.

Natasha softly smiled, an intense wave of emotion filled her as you remained respectful, and didn't intentionally ogle her like she's used to, but a secret part of her wished for you to. However, she has no time to dwell on it as the car comes to a stop outside Hammer's base.

"Stay in the car," Nat barked at both of you.

"I'm not staying in the car."

"Dude. You should really listen to her," you mused, but in direct contrast you followed her into the building, and Happy trailed behind.

"Y/N what are you doing?" she asks in a huff while knocking two guys out at once. "You can't be in here, I don't want you getting hurt."

You rush passed her with an eye roll, taking out a man who was fast approaching with a punch to his throat, then another with your lipstick that she now knows is a high voltage taser.

"I was going to retouch my lips with that," she gasps with a lopsided smile directed at you.

"Good thing you didn't you little thief.," you tease back as you both pass the last remaining guy, and she just uses her pepper spray on him.

Natasha is quick to help Tony with the drones, then while they fight she shifts her attention over to you, "You trained with who exactly?"

"Hill."

Natasha nodded, "Makes sense then."

Her arms that were folded over her chest move to around your waist., "Thanks for the help," you hug her back, and she basically melts into you., "Anytime Nat, I'll do your hair, makeup, I'll dress you up, whatever you want, really."

"How about you undress me?” she teased, using a deep sultry tone on you, you shoved her away playfully, and she cackled while following you out of the room. "Y/L/N, come back!"

"Thank God you girls are okay," Happy shouts as the both of you approach unscathed, he himself in a state of disarray, and you scoff. “It's not us you should be worried about."

He glares at you, then shifts his attention to the redhead approaching from behind you. "Hey, Natalie, what you did here was impressive,” he gestures to the pile of bodies with a shy smile.

"Would you be interested in getting dinner?"

Natasha watched as your jaw and fists clenched in unison, and it inspired her to make a move. Her callous hand was gentle as it found yours, she unfurled your fingers, then slipped hers between yours. "No thanks, I'm spoken for."

A wide smile befell your face as she spoke, and in a swift switch of events it was you making a move, your hand dropped hers to grab her by the waist, and as you spun her to face you the other slid behind her neck. "Yeah, she is."

Happy cleared his throat before scurrying off, the tension in the room thick at the glare you sent his way right before you pulled Natasha into you for a heady kiss. A soft hmph left you when she spun you around and into a wall.

Natasha pulled away from you at the sound of another's pained groan, she smirked at the sight of you so flustered; blissfully unaware, and as beautiful as the first time she saw you.

"We should get out of here krasivaya," Nat grabbed your hand again, squeezing it softly to better get your attention. "Lead the way Nat.," you smiled dreamily, she pulled you along, and guided you into the back of an awaiting car.

—

Fury shook your hand, then sent you off with a wink that you failed to understand as you were finally moving to leave Shields headquarters.

"Wait!” Natasha took off after you, and her hand settled on your shoulder. "Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” you smiled at the redhead as you turned to face her properly, she was uncharacteristically nervous, and that made you feel extra confident. "I just made out with you over many unconscious men, and now you're nervous to talk to me—how adorable."

Natasha's mouth opened, but then it closed as she tried to remember how to formulate actual words. "I-I'm not adorable Y/N/N, you are."

"You're even more adorable now that you've said that," you snickered, then reached out to softly move a stray hair behind her ear. "I'd love to get coffee with you Natasha, feel free to pick me up tomorrow morning before work."

"I don't have your address.," she called out as you already started walking off again, and you didn't even turn around as you shouted., "We both know that's not true Agent Romanoff."

2012

You weren't a super spy yourself, but you didn't need to be to know the loud ding of your locked doors opening was because of a certain beauty.

"Natasha, I can get my own breakfast you know," you set the broom stick against the counter, and met her at the desk in your office. "Yeah, you can, but you shouldn't have to."

You shook your head with a fond smile, then accepted the warm beverage and croissant. "Thank you baby," you murmured over a bite of the buttery goodness, then you approached the pouting redhead as she reached for you.

"Are you excited to open the shop tomorrow detka?" she quickly pulled you into her warm embrace, and you nuzzled into her, knowing that she craved these reassuring affections. "Mostly," you admitted. "I'm kinda nervous."

"Why would you be nervous?"

"What if I open my doors and the sky falls?"

"Y/N, what's really going on, hm?" she softly swayed you, and placed a kiss to your forehead.

"What if I am not good enough to succeed?"

"Detka, now that's just ridiculous," your lover sighs softly as she works to pull you closer.

"You're plenty good enough, there's nobody else I'd ever let touch my hair," she confessed, "Nick knew that by the way, when he played matchmaker, and I went along of course because you were the woman of my dreams, and how else would I have gotten that close."

"Nat," she cut you off with a dizzying kiss, it was so intense that she was able to walk you back into your chair. "I'm dead serious detka."

"You're being honest?" she nodded, and you smiled widely. "I can't believe I was your first."

Natasha smirked, her dimple prominent as she absorbed your words, there were areas of truth to them, yes, you were her first hair stylist, but moreover, you were her first, and only love.

"Up until that mission I'd handled all of my own disguises, and yes, even as a level 6 agent I was able to work my own makeup brushes."

Your belly laughter filled the room, and your lover smiled as soon as it left you, if she were to only be made to hear your joy for the rest of her life she knows she'd die a happy woman.

"Hey, I have an idea," Natasha nudged your shoulder, then her hand gripped yours to pull you up to your feet without any explanation. Natasha settled herself down in one of your leather chairs with a lopsided grin as she met your gaze through the mirror and ran a hand through her unruly maine, "Have a ball."

It honestly surprised you how willing she was to be your guinea pig, her appearance really did mean a lot to her, but she seemingly trusted you enough to give you free reign with it.

Her current hair was a little passed shoulder length, and quite frankly overdue for a trim, but what you had in mind went beyond that.

Natasha followed your every instruction, and she did so happily, her sighs of gratitude proof that the way you scratched at her scalp as you washed and conditioned her hair was pleasing.

After you settled her down in the salon chair you practiced your customer service on her, "Ma'am, would you," she cut you off with a hand to the face. "Ma'am? Detka please..."

"Oh, my apologies, Miss picture perfect image of youth, would you care for a refreshment?"

Natasha smirked, "Much better, yes please."

Natasha graciously accepted the can of soda by pulling you in for an appreciative kiss, "Now don't you be letting the customers do that too."

You gasped, "Shit baby, do you think I should take off my 'Please kiss your stylist' apron?" She looked up at you unamused, her eyes were briefly casted down at your apron to ensure you were joking, and when she discovered you were she settled into the chair. "Chop, chop."

A roll of your eyes followed her play on words, you complied of course, but to make it more fun you spun her to face away from the mirror.

After you did the sizable chop you began to add layers to give it more volume, then you used your specialty scissors to give the ends texture. It took you about an hour to get her hair where you wanted, and from the back it looked great.

A long breath still left you when your hands no longer had something to manipulate, you were honestly nervous because it was far shorter than when she had walked in. Natasha had the fortune of being so beautiful that nothing could change that, but an outward opinion on her appearance didn't matter here, only hers did.

"Detka, you're making me nervous," she joked, and after a tense moment of silence she sighed, "I'm going to love it, I already feel tons lighter."

When you still refrained from spinning her around she stood from her seat, leaving you unable to face her reaction as she turned around. You still managed to do it though as you shut your eyes tightly to avoid the potential of a disappointed, and likely frowning Nat.

"It's perfect," she gasped, her hands were gentle as they moved you over a smidge so that she could see better. "Honey, open your eyes, and look at the smoke show that is on display," she shook your body like it was a limp noodle by her grip on your shoulders to emphasize the joy you should feel, and it actually paid off.

"Wow," you were genuinely elated as you opened your eyes, what you envisioned was so beautifully brought to life right before you. You didn't hesitate to run your hand through the much shorter red locks, appreciating the way that her natural wave showed through more prominently at this length. "You're beautiful."

Natasha surged forward, capturing your lips with hers, something she always did when she felt overwhelmed by you complimenting her. There was just something different about the way you said beautiful, your tone was always soft, and your eyes were even softer, as if you were seeing her for more than her physicality.

Which you were...

Just as you moved to deepen the affection, your tongue slowly sliding over hers, you were rudely interrupted by Natasha's obnoxious pager, and corresponding ringing of her cell. When combined that always meant she had to go, because Fury needed her for a mission.

"Absolutely not," she groaned, "What is it?"

"Agent Romanoff, always such a pleasure."

"Nick, I am unavailable, Y/N's opening day is tomorrow, can't you send someone else?"

"Unfortunately not Romanoff, it's connected to your mission in limbo, and if you don't seize the moment now you'll likely miss it entirely."

Natasha hung up on the director, it was her angered way of relenting on her stance, even if it was actually breaking her heart to say it.

"It's okay Natasha, it's just a salon opening."

"No, don't do that," she turned to face you, cupping your cheeks in her calloused hands. "You're so special Y/N/N, and the way you transform looks is amazing, it's life changing."

"Yeah, and the way you save the world is too," you leaned in to kiss her again, and the both of you made sure to savor the fleeting moment.

"I'll be back in time for a celebratory dinner."

"I'll be looking forward to it," you pressed your lips to hers for a chaste kiss. "Give them hell."

Natasha smirked against you, "I always do."

——

The world was a crazy place really, the general populous moves around in a state of blissful ignorance while atrocities happen under their noses. Rumors fly, but without any evidence they act as if the evil only exists in the stories. It's only in moments like now that they are able to get a glimpse through the cracks, and see that fables of other worlds are based in reality.

Natasha stared up at the gigantic black hole in the sky in a disgusted sort of awe, it was a sight to marvel at—sure, but she wonders more how she got here in a matter of twenty four hours.

Yesterday morning she was being pampered by you, and by that evening she was tied to a chair with men who actually thought they had the upper hand on her, the notorious Black Widow.

Then after a panicked call from Coulson over Clint's well being she was exchanging her idiot Russian henchmen out for a ship full of equally as idiotic American men, with an aloof God in tow who couldn't set their egos aside long enough to see the bigger picture until it had to be blown up in front of their once smug faces.

After fighting her best friend, being chased by the monstrosity that is The Hulk, and losing Coulson, a dear friend of the redheads, she was already beyond exhausted, but rest was nary an option with aliens flying through a portal.

If they didn't pull it together soon the entire state of New York would likely meet the same fate as many other peculiar cities in the past.

Natasha wouldn't be letting that happen though, no matter what she would never let anything happen to you. Which is why she was first to offer finding out how to close the portal, effectively neutralizing the core threat here.

"Natasha, you seem distracted," the captain observed, and Natasha sighed in frustration. "My girlfriend," she paused as the man out of time dropped his shield out of shock. "Go on."

"Today was the day her shop was supposed to open, and I'm fucking terrified that she was in it as the fight broke out," she struggled to hold back her tears, "She didn't answer her phone, and I had no time to check on her." At the odd show of emotions from the reclusive spy Steve realized he needed to offer his support here.

"Listen, you make it to the top as planned, and I promise to go collect," he paused, and she smiled at just the thought of you. "Y/N."

"Please, don't let anything happen to her." he nodded, and with that she was off in the sky, chasing down the alien scum while the super soldier sprinted towards your quaint shop.

The bell rung out, and you jumped onto the intruder's back in an instant, ready to fight, but then you saw the patriotic get up, and knew he was not the enemy in this current predicament.

"Y/N?"

You slowly fell from his back, then rounded the man to face him. "Depends, what's it to you?"

"Natasha sent me after you," he relayed, and you rolled your eyes. "That woman, I swear, it's like she forgets I'm trained for this shit."

"You're an agent?" you shrugged. "Something more in between trained agent and stylist."

"I saw her tough resolve crumbling only a few minutes ago," he admits. "I honestly haven't known her more than a few hours, but she doesn't strike me as the type to break easily."

"She isn't," you whisper, then meet the man with a frown. "Take me to safety I guess."

He escorts you out, and it's when an alien runs by with its razor sharp talons ready to strike that he realizes you were safer indoors. "Uh," he turns you back around, then puts you in your office, using your bookshelf he blocks the window, then from outside your door he moves another shelf full of products in front of it.

"We'll come collect you shortly, Natasha is currently working on closing the blackhole."

"Okay!" you shout back amusedly, then you pull up Scandal on your laptop, and hope Nat forgives you for watching the next episode without her on account of emotional distress.

——

Natasha took the elevator down Stark's ginormous tower, then she ran to your shop without taking a moment to catch her breath after she had successfully closed the portal. Once she arrived she barged through the doors only to groan at her newfound obstacle.

"Are you watching Scandal without me?" she grunted through the blocked door as she heard the familiar start up tune while she was trying to use her remaining strength to move the hefty, fully stocked set of shelves. Once she's successful she barges in with a deep scowl.

"The sky was falling..." you shut your laptop guiltily, then slowly made your away around your desk to pull the dirtied woman into you.

"Yeah, it certainly was," she melted into you, honestly she was too tired to further scold you over something so mundane, especially after she already spent the entire day bickering with egotistical men, then as if it was a cherry atop of a shit sundae, she had to fight ugly aliens.

"Sit down love, I'm gonna clean you up."

"Detka," you hummed while maneuvering around the shop to collect your hair products and first aid kit. "Would you like to meet the team today? We're going to get Shawarma."

"Who's really left to meet?" you teased, and she lowered her voice to imitate the men, "Bruce, the Hulk, and Thor, the God of Thunder."

"I'd love to go with you Nat, thank you," you lightly kissed her split lips. "Just maybe after I rinse your hair and disinfect these cuts."

"Fair enough."

—

Natasha was fatigued beyond recognition, so you had her hop onto your back, she protested softly, but the second her feet left the ground you felt her sigh against your back. "Comfy?"

The redhead nodded, then to further prove your suspicions she yawned, "It's just up the street detka, they're probably already eating."

Natasha rested as best she could on your trek to the family owned restaurant that managed to remain unscathed unlike the neighboring stores surrounding it that laid in ruins. Once you got to the door though she dropped from your back, then like the gentlewoman she was she opened the door for you, and escorted you to the table where she took her rightful seat.

There wasn't another open for you since they weren't expecting a plus one, but that didn't matter much, because to make the message clear to the unknowing men gawking at the both of you, Nat pulled you into her lap and kissed you oh so tenderly. Steve blushed at the unfamiliar sight, Tony smirked, and Clint was expectedly unbothered as he stuffed his face.

Thor too seemed unbothered as he asked for someone to pass him the 'sauce that burns his tongue in ways he enjoys.' Bruce, the reserved one looked a bit taken aback, and almost hurt if you cared to look at him, but he shook off his unfair jealousy, then politely shook your hand.

"Lovely to see you again Zoe."

"Zoe?" Steve looked between the three of you, and you and your lover knowingly chuckled. "Tony, and everyone else I guess, this is Y/N, my girlfriend of a years time, and that's all I will be disclosing, so avert your eyes and eat."

Tony didn't care about her disinterest, he was too busy having an epiphany, and so he gasped obnoxiously loudly, "You two got together because of me? Wow! You're both welcome."

—

"Your little team of superheroes seemed," you paused to mull it over while ripping the sheet back, slipping under the cool fabric, and opening your arms wide for the cuddle fiend that was your girlfriend to crawl right on into.

"Insufferable? Pig headed? Inept besides Clint, and even then I might be being too nice?"

Natasha smiled against your neck as you tried to temper your exhausted cackle. "I was going to say potentially incorrigible, but for the sake of mankind's survival I hope they're not."

"Yeah, me too, because as of right now it's an overload on testosterone, and I think if history has taught us anything, it's that that's usually the greatest indicator for eventual disaster"

You snorted at your lovers tired grumbling, "Yeah, but with you there to lead, it'll be fine."

"I sure hope so," she yawned, "Goodnight Y/N, I love you." Your body tensed, but when you looked into her murky eyes you could see that the exhaustion brought it on, but it was the truth nonetheless. "I love you too Natasha."

A smile wider than the state of Texas spread against your skin, followed by a smattering of tired, soft kisses as she nuzzled further into you., "YA sobirayus' khranit' tebya vechno."

(I'm going to keep you forever.)

"What was that?"

"You're a dead woman walking for watching Scandal without me, you better sleep with one eye open," she nipped your skin teasingly and you slapped her butt warningly. "Mhm, sure..."

As you both slipped away into a state of bliss Natasha couldn't fathom how she got so lucky to have found you, and you pondered learning Russian, because you loved her enough to.

2014

"Natasha, sit still," you commanded, the ability to straighten her hair as she asked of you was almost nonexistent with the way she moved.

"I'm sorry detka, I-I," she paused, her thoughts were jumbled with all the anxiety she's been feeling since her mission with Steve yesterday.

"What is it?" you settled the straightener down, then spun her around to face you, and in the cutest way possible she reached for you then pulled you into her lap so she could bury her face in your chest. "My favorite stress balls."

"Natasha," you warned, but the bite in your tone was nonexistent, and you found yourself laughing lightly along with her. "What? The world is an absolute garbage fire, but when I'm here, with my face in your breasts it's alright."

"I can't stand you," you groaned, and she shifted to look at you with a quirked brow., "Good thing you're sitting down then, huh?"

"Natasha, I swear to God!" her face smushed back into your breasts, but this time she was blowing raspberries, and you were aghast, “You’re a fucking pervert,” she laughed wildly as the words left you in a near shriek.

“I’m a pervert for only you,“ she pecked your lips, a sigh of relief brushing across your face as she feels her anxieties melting away so easily when she’s touching you—you’re her peace.

The sound of her pager going off like crazy ruined the whole vibe, “What now? Was me commandeering an entire ship not enough?”

Natasha’s face fell though as she read the tiny script: ‘Fury’s been compromised—hurry.’

—

The drive to the hospital was fast, you held on to the handle tightly as she swerved between lanes. Even in her frenzied state she settled a hand over your thigh to offer comfort, and in the moment when she had nothing but time to think she curses herself for letting you come.

If someone is after Fury, and they see her in the hospital she’s going to be a follow up target, and by bringing you she’s made you one too.

With your hand in hers you both entered the hospital, Maria and Steve were there to greet you both, and as they brought you to a window you saw the elder man in a state of disarray. Then before any words could be muttered his heart monitor went haywire, then he flatlined.

Natasha cried into your shoulder for all of two seconds before she was pulling it together. Her jaw clenched at the thought of leaving you, but she had no choice, so she kissed the corner of your lips, “I have to go,” Natasha held her hand up when you tried to follow her, “I’m okay,” she tossed Maria the keys, then soon disappeared.

You went to chase your girlfriend down but Maria stopped you, “Come with me, Nat’s not going to stop until she has answers, and you’re not safe if you go home since you came here.”

“Oh,” you nodded, then followed her instead.

—

Natasha entered the facility you were being held at with a deep scowl on her face, it didn’t exactly melt away at the sight of you, but it definitely lessened when you embraced her. Maria’s hold on her was nonexistent now as you took over escorting her to a chair for the doctor. Her subtle wince caused you to let go, and you made quick work of her jacket so you could see what happened, and you gasped.

The doctors rushed you aside, then fixed her up remarkably fast, and once they moved you tried to lean in for a kiss, but Natasha evaded your affection with ease, it was so subtle the way she leaned her forehead to yours, but you still felt the sting of her rejecting affection. It terrified you to think that after everything you have overcome together that she’d retreat now.

“I’m okay detka, I’ve experienced worse,” she tried to play down the wound, her voice wasn’t much above a whisper as she tried to keep the moment specifically between the two of you, but she didn’t succeed because you were on your feet, and slamming a fist into Steve.

“How could you let this happen to her?” You glared at the man, but you could see the guilt on his face ran deeper than her being wounded, “Why do you look so guilty Steve? What is it?”

Natasha glared at the super soldier, she told him that what happened on the escalator was self preservation, and that she’d tell you, but he was about to blurt it out, and humiliate you.

“Natasha kissed me,” he squeaked, blue eyes widening as he saw the murderous redhead jump to her feet, “I-It was only—,” you shook your head, a sign that the man took as your disinterest in his blubbering explanations.

Instead you turned to look at Natasha, who was quick to soften her gaze as your eyes locked, a tense silence befell the room because no one knew what was about to happen. Natasha did though, she knew you were silently assessing, and when you smiled softly at her she relaxed.

“I’m sorry you had to do that my beloved,” you coo, then entered into her good arms embrace, “It must’ve been a hardship for you to kiss a man seeing as how you’re not into them.”

Maria smirked, but then upon seeing Fury’s expression she cleared her throat, and began to debrief the room about Hydra’s infiltration. You sat in Nat’s lap while they discussed the miracle of Fury’s survival, and you hardly paid attention, your eyes transfixed on Nat instead.

Which is why when Fury muttered, “Can't kill you if you're already dead. Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust.” You watched as Natasha’s eyes glazed over, and that had you seeing red.

“She took a bullet trying to avenge you, and you don’t know who you can trust?” You made your way over to the man, and slapped him across the face, and Nat tried to pull you away, “Detka, calm down.” But it was of no use.

“No? Absolutely not,” you brushed her off, then turned to point a finger at everyone present, “You all disgust me with how you treat her. Like Natasha is just an expendable asset, but she isn’t, she has a family to come home to and I’d appreciate it if she came back to us alive.”

The room was silent besides everyone’s varying breaths, yours being the loudest as you were feeling rather irate by the audacity in the room. Natasha took tentative steps, her hand turning you by your shoulder so she could look at you.

“I promise I’ll return to you tonight, and I’ll have Maria here take you back home so you’re comfy. She’ll stay with you until I get there,” you pouted, and she desperately wanted to kiss it away, but she simply refused to until her mouth was cleaned of Steve’s existence.

“What do you want for dinner?” Natasha laughed at your sweet question, “You pick.”

You nodded, then placed a kiss to her cheek before shifting to face the others, “Keep her safe, or I swear to God you will all regret it.”

—

Natasha entered your house in a stagger, her heart was nervous for a whole great deal of things, most importantly being you leaving.

“Welcome home Romanoff, I’ll be going.”

“Thanks Maria,” she squeezed the redhead’s shoulder, then yelled her goodbye to you.

This prompted you to race into the living room to see Natasha stood there in one piece, but her eyes spoke of a separate form of shattering. When she fell to her knees a second later you were right by her with no regard to your knees.

“Natasha, what is it?”

“Please don’t leave me,” she sobbed, “I can’t do this without you, I won’t survive—I won’t!”

“Hey, hey,” you settled on your butt then yanked her trembling form into you, “I’m not going anywhere, where is this coming from?”

“I had to air out all of Shield’s dirty laundry,” she started, her hand shaking as you clasped yours over it and you sent her a reassuring smile, “That included all the darkest parts about my past, once you see it you’ll leave.”

“Natasha, your past doesn’t define you, no one is free of skeletons in their closet, and yours were never yours to bare the reprimand for,” you cupped her cheek, and brought her gaze back to yours, “I know your heart Natasha, and whatever those files say doesn’t change that.”

“Matter of fact, they don’t matter, and I won’t even be reading them,” you announced, and her tears finally spilled over, “Thank you…”

“Don’t thank me Nat, you deserve to tell me whatever you want, when you’re ready, not when the world forces you to.”

“I love you Y/N,” she jolted up and caught your lips in a kiss, her mouth tasted of mint, and you smiled at the thought of her probably having brushed her teeth in some drug store just so she could kiss you when she got home.

“I love you too Natasha, you’re stuck with me.”

She smiled against your lips, “Really?” and when you nodded she smiled even wider.

“Marry me then,” she blurted the hopeful words against your lips, then she pulled back with pinched brows as she awaited an answer.

“Seriously?” she nodded, and watched how your eyes now filed with tears, “Of course.”

Natasha kissed you even harder this time, a symbolic sealing of the deal she reasoned.

“Is that borscht I smell?” you nodded with a breathless sigh to follow, and she smiled in pure adoration, “Might as well marry you now, my pretty little housewife in the making.”

“Do it,” you challenged, and she met that with a bruising kiss to which she instantly deepened, her silent promise that she’d be keeping you here until the ready borscht likely went cold.

2016

Natasha woke up next to you this morning, and for a few moments everything just felt right. Then she was called into work only to be met with a scraggly old man in a suit, who laid out a packet thicker than her arms all in the name of containing the Avengers. Tony's argument felt right, it seemed the only option that kept the team safe, but more importantly all together.

Steve didn't agree though, and in a few short hours he became a wanted man, alongside his old pal Bucky, his new pal Sam, her best friend Clint, a shrinking man she'd never met named Scott, and the rightfully terrified witch, Wanda.

Nothing felt right anymore, and as the lot of them fought against one another she knew it wasn't going to end well. Her plans to marry you this Fall would have to wait as she attacked TChalla, and allowed Steve and Bucky to flee.

In less than an hour she was back at the compound collecting her arsenal of weapons, and ignoring Tony's venomous words only spat to hurt her as she rushed off to be on the run.

This life wasn't new to her, being on the run was second nature for the reformed assassin, but now, at this stage of her life it was cruel. There was no easy way to tell you, the love of her life, that she had to leave, but as she raced up the stairs to your shared bedroom she found you sat on the edge of the bed in a fit of tears.

You knew...

"Malysh." you lunged into her open arms, sending the both of you tumbling into the carpeted floor where she held you very tightly. "It'll be okay, I promise, I'll find my way back."

"Back?," you croaked, head shaking rapidly as you refused to accept this., "I'm coming with."

"Not this time Agent.," you sobbed even harder as she cupped the back of your head while sitting you both back up so she could look into your eyes, even if the sight broke her in two., "Liho, and Tabby need you moya lyubov'."

"I need you," your voice cracked, and the tears she managed to keep at bay began to stain her cheeks at the dire situation at hand., "I know detka, I need you just as much as I do oxygen."

"Please, let me come with," you pleaded, hands clinging to her jacket in desperation, and you pulled her in for an equally as desperate kiss.

"This is going to test us," she panted after she managed to pull away from the liplock, her usual sparkling green eyes were dull as she looked into yours now. "But please, don't tell me that if I leave that you won't be here when I get back, because I promise you I'll be back."

"Be careful," you relent, and lean in to kiss her far more gently now, her hands that were sat on your hips gripped you tighter, she needed to feel you, because there was no telling when she would have an opportunity to do so again.

"I always am," she whispered, a soft smile pulling her at lips as she looked into your eyes. "My love for you is all the inspiration I need to make it back to you in one piece," she pecked your lips, then lifted both of you to stand.

"I love you Natasha Romanoff," she brought your entwined hands up to her lips where she pecked each knuckle until she reached your pitifully bare ring finger, where her soft lips lingered., "And I you, Y/N Romanoff."

The sound of sirens in the distance put a rush on your goodbye. "Until we meet again," you smiled sadly as she hopped onto her bike with two ill prepared duffles. "Until then my love."

2018

"Natasha, where are you going?" she peered over to Steve with a sad smile. "I'll be back, I just need to see someone first," and before anyone could protest she was leaving the room.

She was still on the run, so she had to be cautious about how she went about her route. Ross wouldn't have trouble getting her if she walked right into your establishment, and she would never put you in such a position. So she texted you from a burner phone instead, and that's how you found yourself in a quaint diner.

"Natasha, please tell me you didn't," your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as the now blonde approached you with a mischievous grin. "What, you don't like the new hair?"

"I-I," you were thrown, because of course you did, she could pull anything off, but you also knew her resources were limited, so this was likely a very cheap dye job and it made you sad for all the progress you made keeping her hair healthy over the years. "You're beautiful Nat."

"It'll grow back out my love, and then I'll leave it for only you to handle, I promise."

"So I can go with you on the run this time?"

Natasha shook her head, and pulled you in for a hug that nearly crippled her after so long without your body flush to hers. "I'd never let you do that, you're undeserving of such a life."

"All I want is you Natasha, I don't care." she smiled sadly, "I know, but it doesn't matter, because there's no more being on the run."

"Really?" she nodded with a bright smile. "After we win, I'll be back for good malysh."

"Good, I can't stand another two years Nat."

"You won't have to," she smiled as you leaned into her, and she unexpectedly sobbed as you pressed your lips to hers, "I missed you Y/N."

"I missed you too Natty.," you reached up to wipe away her tears, then pecked her lips once more knowing she had to go, "I'll be waiting."

—

They lost, half of everyone turned to dust, and you weren't answering your fucking phone.

You always answered your phone.

No matter what.

Natasha felt waves of pure panic, the contents of her stomach were emptied on the jet, and even though her limbs ached she ran to you.

She had to get to you, there was nothing else she needed more right now than your love.

The doors of your shop flew open, causing her to cough as clouds of dust swirled at the action.

"No...," She fell to her knees besides the chair, your phone laid shattered on the floor in a pile of dust and various hair clippings with an unsent message: "I don't feel good Natasha."

Natasha didn't feel good either, and she would never again if she had to live without you..

2023

“Hey Nat,” Steve greeted as he stepped into the meeting room to find her quietly sulking over a halved peanut butter sandwich. “You okay?”

“Your friend is fine,” she answered almost too quickly for the words to be true, and the older man sighed with the truth weighing on his mind. “Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

“If I move on, who does this?”

“Maybe nobody, threats have been almost nonexistent Natasha, the oceans are more clear, the grass is real, and the sky is bluer.”

“If you think there’s a bright side to half of the population being dusted you’re honestly not the righteous man I thought you to be Steve.”

“I’ve become a realist in my old age Nat, you deserve to be happy, Y/N wouldn’t want this.”

“Don’t you ever bring her up to push your agenda Rogers,” she growls through gritted teeth, and the man yields upon seeing her eyes of fury paired with a clenched jaw and fists.

“There’s no moving on without her Steve. I’ll search until I’m old and grey for a way to get her back because she’s worth fighting for.”

Steve sighs, “I understand, I was just trying to help is all, I hate seeing you so down.”

“You can’t help me Steve, it seems no one can.”

Natasha slumped back in her chair, and just as her eyes went to close she got a notification from Friday that someone was at the gate.

“Hello?”

Natasha immediately turned to see that the man she knows as ‘Antman’ was stood outside, which made her jolt up because he was presumed dusted, and upon letting him in she realizes that she was l wrong, someone can help her, she just has to l pay the arrogant billionaire a visit and hope he’s down to help.

—

Tony was reluctant to help, but at the thought of Peter, his prodigy, he was in, and Natasha was elated at the promise of undoing the mess. Having you back in her arms was all she needs, and after a few days it’s looking promising.

Clint returned with a baseball glove, showing the mission would succeed as long as all parties did their part. For the most part that was true, but someone had to pay the ultimate price, and then some cosmic fluke, one that Tony himself predicted, occurred as a past Thanos emerged.

It was a gruesome battle, it seemed like the loss of Steve on Vormir was all for not, but then the fruits of their labors came to light as loads of portals opened and all those dusted emerged.

“Avengers Assemble!” Natasha aired out the war cry, a new wave of adrenaline fueling her aching body as she charged at the enemies with the knowledge that you were back to fight for.

—

Natasha sprinted from the battle field as soon as Thanos's army became nothing but dust, her legs were nearly out of commission, weighing as heavy as her heart did with the losses of the unforeseen battle, but she refused to stop until she had you, this time she knew she would.

All her friends were back, so you would be too.

Five years she'd been deprived of you, and she refused to go another minute, she promised you it wouldn't be two like before, but she never realized in doing so she sealed herself to a far more daunting, and lengthier fate.

Much like before the doors to your shop fly open, but this time you're there to look up at the sound of the familiar ding, and you don't have time to ask questions before the love of your life is sobbing loudly against your chest.

"You're here," you hear the pain in her words, to you it had only been an hour since you last felt her touch, but the sight of her changed look told you that it had to have been longer for her.

"I'm here," she gripped your shirt as you went to move, her inability to let you go actually broke your heart in two. "I'm not going anywhere love, just going to sit us down."

Natasha let you go rather briefly, allowing you to settle into the reclining lounge chair in your office, and she straddled you just as soon as your butt made contact with the plush fabric.

"You weren't waiting," she sobbed, fists now clutching your shirts collar while her hazy eyes met your soft pair. "We lost, so you were gone."

The words were enough for you to understand something magically mysterious took place, and that was good because the redhead wasn't able to elaborate, her body racking with more sobs as she reflects on her forced solitude.

With a gentle hand on the back of her head you guided her face into the crook of you neck, you felt as she took in a sharp, deep breath, and how her lip subsequently quivered right after. Her arms then forced their way between your back and the soft material of the recliner so that she could hold you impossibly closer, in direct response you copied her embracement.

After a half hour her sobs faded into hiccups, but your hand rubbing random shapes over her suit continued, even if she could barely feel it. The motion still brought her comfort, and that's all you could try to do here, there was no relating to her pain, you understood the forced solitude, but you can tell hers was far crueler.

"How long?" You started simple, but she still struggled to answer you, it hurt too much to verbalize her former reality. "F-five years."

"Oh my love," you brought her face out to look in her eyes, hands cupping her cheeks so softly as if she were made of glass. The red rimming of her eyes, and tinting of her nose broke your heart, knowing that she was likely in a state of perpetual disarray while you were gone hurt. "I'm so sorry I wasn't waiting," you kissed away the new tears as they fell. "I'm here now baby."

"I need to feel you, please, show me it's real," she pleaded, her hands already tugging at the hem of your shirt, so you sat forward to help her remove it, then you moved a hand to the front zipper of her suit, "Take it off, please!"

It'd been seven years since Natasha felt you like this, with your skin on hers it felt like a dream, like one she frequently had while on the run, but couldn’t bring herself to with you gone.

Natasha whimpered when she felt you shifting so you could set her on the chair, but she was quick to settle when she realized you were going to undress completely for her, her eyes were trained on you without ever wavering. When you slid your pants off, along with your underwear she was gasping in pure shock.

“Fuck, detka,” you smirked in amusement when catching her eyes curiously staring at the strap, “I told you baby, I’d be waiting for you.”

It clicked, and as it did she was pleading with you to give her all of you with lust burning behind her eyes, pupils darkened to the point that they seemed like a black hole ready to consume you whole, and that had you on her in no time at all, soft lips exploring her bareness.

"My sweet Natasha, you've been through so much," you acknowledge, lips pressing to scars you'd never seen before, and your heart ached. "I'm sorry you were alone for so long, but I'm here, and I'm going to take good care of you."

Natasha's entire body shivered as you ran the hard silicone through her folds, collecting her arousal so that you could enter her with ease.

“I know you want my cock baby, but please, can I taste you first?” she nodded vigorously, her hands quick to push you lower, and you snorted, “Thank you angel,” you took a deep breath in, feeling yourself salivating as you smelled her arousal, “Oh fuck, you smell heavenly, you’re still my sweet girl, right?”

“Mhm,” Natasha hummed softly, need too heavily clouding her mind to answer properly. Then she was too busy moaning as your tongue expertly swirled around her clit before it was prodding at her entrance in a teasing manner.

Mewls of pornographic proportions tumbled passed her lips as you worked her up to the edge, she hadn’t been turned on in actual years, so this was not going to be a long fuck.

You were just too good with that tongue of yours for her to hold back much of anything; her hips were frantic as they fucked her cunt into your mouth to help her get off faster; her walls fluttering around your thick pink muscle, leaving it without much wiggle room but you sure made it move; and those screams of hers were uncontainable as you sent her crashing head first into the most intense orgasm ever.

“Fuck, oh my god, please don’t ever stop!”

“I never plan to,” you murmured against her bundle of nerves causing her body to writhe as the pleasure only further coursed through her.

Natasha was panting like she’d just run a marathon, and quite honestly she’d done just about that to get to you from the intense battle. Regardless of her inability to breathe though she yanked you up and into her for a kiss that was nothing short of messy, and thrilling.

While your tongue explored her pliant mouth you reached down to line yourself up with her needy entrance, “Going to fuck you so good,” you pulled away from her lips to catch sight of her face as you thrusted completely into her.

Natasha didn’t disappoint you either, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she was so overwhelmed by your intrusion that she was choking on the air she’s gasped in, her mouth was agape but she was too dumbed to breathe.

“Breath for me baby,” you pulled out, just to shallowly thrust back in, teasing her back down to earth, “Please, I-I need you inside so bad.”

“I know you do baby,” you smiled down at her, then watched as she involuntarily bit back a moan when you refilled her to the brim, “None of that now, I want to hear how good you feel.”

With your arms now hooked underneath her thighs as your hands reached up to fondle her breasts your thrusts were hitting even deeper. Natasha was cursing lowly in Russian, a sure way to let you know she was going to cum any second now, and you knew just what to do.

Natasha loved the idea of being yours, and she loved it even more when it came with marks.

It was an earth shattering occurrence really, you kept your pace pleasurably slow, as you began to nibble over the skin of her jaw, one of your hands continued tweaking her nipples in dizzying oscillations, as the other ventured down to rub tentative circles against her enlarged clit, “You’re close, aren’t you baby?”

Natasha whimpered with her head thrown back into the pillow, her ability to answer was lost on her as your mouth suctioned against the sensitive expanse of her throat, leaving behind marks she would never dream of covering up.

“Let go baby, drench my cock,” you bit into her pulse point, and Natasha couldn’t refrain from screaming your name in a sequence of praises.

Everything about you made her lose every ounce of composure she’s ever been trained to keep. Your smiles melt her stoney heart, and yours giggles basically annihilated her chance at ever wanting to be an Avenger ever again.

All she wants now is to retire with you, and start a family, because you’re her endgame. Nothing else will ever matter more than you.

While buried deep inside her, here you hover over her with a warm smile, you just recked her but still you manage to lean down to whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she comes down.

“How are you feeling my love?”

Natasha smiled up at you with glistening eyes, “Like I can finally breathe again, I missed you tremendously detka,” her lip wobbled slightly as you whispered against her, “Let’s go home.”

—

Natasha happily took you home on her bike as soon as she calmed down from her high, the trek was short, but meaningful as she felt you clinging to her the entire way home, the tight embrace was healing her tattered soul with every second she was able to experience it.

The two of you shared a sweet kiss as soon as you got off the bike, your lover was reluctant to let up, but she had no choice as you swept her off her feet. Natasha squealed with laughter as she settled into your arms, she admired you fondly, heart fluttering with hope as you carry her over the threshold as if you’d finally wed.

“Welcome home my beloved,” you kissed her lovingly, then let her legs drop softly, while swiftly wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I should be saying that to you,” she whispers, and you can hear the sadness in her tone, so you just pull her even closer, and kiss her deeper. “We both deserved to say it Natty.”

“I love the hair Natty,” you twirled the end of her braid in your hand, admiring the growth and dual tone, while your other ran up and down her back in soothing strokes. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you continued to play with her hair, slowly but surely you unraveled the braid, and admired the way her hair fell around her face, framing it beautifully and making you smile.

“You’re very beautiful,” you smiled wider as she blushed deeply, even in the darkness of your house you could see the red tinge of her cheeks, and how it steadily rose from her neck.

More than a decade of loving one another, and she still felt nervous whenever you spoke so tenderly to her. Treating her like a dainty flower instead of the venomous spider that hides in the petals, the one she herself feels a kinship with. You saw her for more than the world ever would. To you, she was just Natty.

“I was thinking of cutting it, but I made a promise to my favorite person, so I didn’t.”

“Oh Natty, my precious angel,” you pulled her face to yours, nuzzling your noses before you closed the minuscule gap, “You waited for me?”

The truth was right there for you to see, her eyes having returned to their natural green shone through with so much love, it was the purist kind, and you knew she meant it wholly. Nobody else would ever interest the redhead again, not when she has you as the blueprint.

“Of course I did, I’d have waited a lifetime.”

You smirked, “Yeah? I can just picture it now, grey roots, with a rich red that ombre’s to the blonde tips,” she slapped your arm, then played with you, “I’ll never go grey detka.”

“Maybe not with me here to dye your hair,” you teased while escorting your fiancée up to your bedroom so the both of you could shower.

Loud meows reverberated off the walls, and your heart cracked when you saw your not so little babies stretching on the mattress, “Oh my have you two grown,” you dropped to your knees and nuzzled your face with theirs.

Natasha stood in the bathroom doorway with a sad smile, she’d started the water already, and now she’s taken to watching you reacquainting with your felines. “They missed you just as much as I did detka, they meowed at the front door for a whole year before they gave up.”

“You never gave up,” you whispered, overcome with so many emotions as you stroke over a new to you patch of grey fur on Liho’s back.

“I never would’ve detka, you’re my world.”

“Time is so precious,” you choked out before rising to your feet, and meeting Natasha with a wobbling lip and tight embrace, “I don’t want to wait anymore Nat, I want to be your wife, move to Norway and start the rest of our lives.”

“Can Norway become Ohio?”

You quirked a brow, but nodded without any hesitation, “Wherever with you works for me.”

Natasha beamed at your words, “Perfect, we’ll leave tomorrow then, I have a house in our name, and someone special I want you to meet, and after you meet Yelena we’ll get married at the local courthouse with her as our witness.”

“Yelena?!”

“Yeah, I found her when I was on the run,” she smiled while pulling you under the hot stream, “But enough about all that, how about you give me a sneak preview of our wedding night?”

Natasha moaned when you pushed her against the marbled wall, “You’re going to regret that.”

——

13,049 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥰

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg #soft natasha romanoff

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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

Audio

Playlist Feels: SHORT SERIES PART 3

PART 1 / PART 2

Member: Juyeon

Genre: angst, drama, SOME smut ????

“you lie but i don’t let it define you.”

it is snowing when you reach your office, a team of stylists and make up artists running past you to the studio where you were scheduled to meet a guest for the next issue of your magazine.

being the editor and, occasionally, the chief photographer of such a renowned name placed more pressure on you that you liked. sometimes it put you off, the way it showed you the true colors of celebrities and people who were supposed to be respected in their fields of profession was never a job secret you could get used to.

“filming in three hours, y/n! guest’s coming in about an hour’s time,” the interviewer strides past you with a file in her arms, following closely behind another makeup artist.

“got it, will be in the studio in ten,” you pull off your scarf and get the door of your office open, ready to get your computer on so you could check who was in the studio for the interview and photo-shoot today.

but an interruption in the form of a knock on your door warrants your attention, and your boss pokes his head in without waiting for you to respond.

“can i get you into the studio right now? photographer’s having some trouble setting up the lighting.”

“but i--”

“our guest today’s easy-going and candid so he should be alright with waiting.”

a nod shakes your head before you could process his words, and he pulls back out into the hallways. you put your computer to sleep mode and pat down the creases of your clothes after pulling off your coat.

the snow outside catches your attention for a few seconds, the large christmas tree sitting right at the entrance of the shopping mall opposite your office building makes you warm with nostalgia.

white looked so pretty on green and red and gold decorations; people were leaving footprints in the snow on the pavement and couples were holding hands on the way to wherever they were.

you remember the first year you saw snow with juyeon. he fell sick because he thought jumping into the snow and making a snow angel with no coat was a good idea.

the memory plants a small smile on your lips, and it that takes you awhile to notice. you look away from the world outside, hurriedly pressing your hands into your cheeks to rub the smile off your face.

you get the day’s schedule into a file and make your way to the studio in the basement of the building. the lift opens to a familiarly dark space surrounding the brightly lit studio area where all the lights were, the bustling in the area telling you that something was wrong and the photographer was panicking.

“okay, kevin,” you teasingly call out with a little impatience. “fill me in.” the file in your hand gets tossed onto the table where the screens connected to the camera.

kevin has his hands in his hair with his eyes wide open.

“the left one isn’t responding with the same amount of sensitivity as the right one and the camera sends pictures back to the screen that look underexposed,” your instincts bring you to wherever he was pointing to, and you start fiddling with the equipment to check for any damages.

“have you tried shutting them off and turning them on again?”

“three times.”

“hmm,” you hum to yourself, returning to the monitors and comparing the picture on the screen on the DSLR and the monitor. “we might need to use the other set then, send this one for repairing. can’t you use another camera?”

“i think we can replace the equipment but if our guest comes earlier or even on time, we’re going to start the photoshoot late.”

“huh,” you rub your chin, the makeup artists and stylists making a fuss in the dressing room while they set up the clothes and make up products. “i’ll give him a call--”

“good morning!”

kevin turns around first to the lift, and you follow suit only by instinct. the light coming from behind you must’ve turned you into a silhouette because you could see his face clearly.

lee juyeon was carrying a box of donuts, and he was walking in with someone else, presumably his agent or a manager.

“mr lee, you’re extremely early!” kevin reaches out to shake his hand, and your fingers curl up against the mouse connected to the monitor.

“i don’t like missing out,” he grins and hands kevin the box of donuts. “just call me juyeon. last i checked, we are the same age.”

then your back is turned on them, head hanging low and your eyes glued to the table. you reach for the file that belonged to kevin leaning on the CPU, and you flip it open with such aggression, the whole studio would’ve heard it had it not been bustling with activity.

GUEST: LEE JUYEON

OCCUPATION: CHOREOGRAPHER

DATE: DECEMBER ISSUE

INTERVIEW QUESTIONS: TO BE PREPARED AND VERIFIED -- VERIFIED

the flap of the file hides the name from your view, and you finally realise kevin’s been calling out to you for awhile now.

“y/n!”

your temples tighten and your jaws should’ve cracked under the pressure when you turn around. juyeon’s smile shrinks but never really disappears when he sees you again after about two weeks.

his hair looks less stiff from when you saw him at the club, and he was in a striped top and jeans.

“hi, it’s nice to meet you,” his voice is warm but fake. he extends a hand out to you, and your need to remain professional cues you to take it with grace. his grip on your hand was rough and tight, sending shocks of anxiety up your hand and into your lungs.

“likewise.”

the sight of juyeon looking like he just got out of bed and thrown on some barely presentable clothes tugs you back in time, and you remember watching him change into less shabby clothes for school.

this strange feeling is filling your lungs like pneumonia, and you didn’t like it.

you notice kevin’s flitting eyes between the two of you and something inside tells you he was going to sit you down and interrogate you about this awkward encounter with the guest.

but he smiles and reaches over to pat juyeon on his shoulder.

“anyway, the makeup artists and the stylists are in that room,” kevin gently pushes juyeon into the respective direction after juyeon releases your hand. “we have a little trouble with the equipment now so we might start late.”

“oh, that’s fine,” juyeon is disappearing into the room, the view of his polite smile igniting a small flame of confusion in your stomach.

the night at the strip club becomes a silent movie in your head, but the words you remember spitting in his face about him not doing anything related to his education rings in your ears like an mocking alarm.

juyeon never denied it nor confirmed it, so you just assumed he wasn’t.

choreographers design and create sequences and performances that most of the time, they don’t perform themselves.

this was why he said he couldn’t perform in his day job.

“take as much time as you need, we’ll need more time to set up the studio!” kevin calls behind him to the stylists and makeup artists as he exits the dressing room, strolling towards you.

your attention resumes to the equipment and you start dismantling the defective studio lights, carefully placing them into the large bags as someone else brings over a new set.

“are we having this conversation now or later?” kevin queries with wide, curious eyes.

“we’re not having this conversation ever,” you lift the tripod bag and hand it to one of the production crew members.

“we’ll do it after he leaves. you’re not going anywhere without telling me what that was.”

kevin shoots you the kind of look that you’d gladly slap off his face, and you would, but you wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of your guest.

the interviewer runs you through the questions, but your attention refused to sit itself down and absorb the words running off her tongue.

all you could think of how being in the same room as juyeon was so antagonising.

his scent was wafting about in the air like waffles to a child; his smile stuck itself in the retinal memory like someone pasted a sticker into your eyes -- god, those eyes.

the same eyes he used to look at you when he caught you half-naked in bed with sangyeon.

something must’ve crushed your spirit and it is a reminder that you’re not the best at hiding your emotions when the interview abruptly stops.

“y/n,” she is looking at you like you were sick, and that wasn’t very far from the truth. “are you okay? you’re zoning out and you look a little pale.”

the low volume of commotion trailing from the dressing room forces you to realise your forehead was between your fingers, like you were having a migraine. it takes you awhile to process her question, but you sit back upright and suck in a deep breath, forcing a smile out at the interviewer.

“i’m alright. sorry, i just... thinking about something else unimportant. go on.”

whoever thought creating mankind with the capacity to feel so much love and pain for one person should’ve been banished from all eternity, for all eternity.

the kinaesthetic memory of his touch on your chin when he first kissed you in the rain drives waves of nauseating nostalgia through you.

the flutters in your stomach because he loved to pull you closer by your waist when you stood too far away from him in a queue or on an escalator; they were always too difficult to ignore.

when he hummed melodies in your ear when you couldn’t sleep or when you cried from the stress you had to swallow in school.

but you threw all that away when you lost to your need for affection and love; when juyeon chose work over you.

the guest exits the dressing room in the horrid, familiar costume he had on at the stripper club. under the studio lighting, it is more striking on his skin. the lights made him look whiter than snow and the shadows cast under his jaw and ears and face by his hair sharpens his every feature.

some of the production crew were already feasting their eyes on juyeon, and you couldn’t blame them, not when he was a physically fine man on his own.

juyeon notices your eyes widening when you process his costume for the interview and the first part of the filming portion, so he deliberately rubs his left collar bone, exposing the skin on his upper chest and lower neck with the intention of driving you into a corner in your own head.

kevin watches on with slight entertainment, but also a pinch of concern when he is able to see how much discomfort you were in. there was a look of pain and loss in your eyes which he doesn’t recognise, which he has not seen before.

usually his editor was professionally emotional, but right now, you were zoning out. you were letting the guest, someone whom you’ve obviously had some kind of history with, puppeteer your heart around in your chest like it didn’t belong to you.

kevin grabs your attention by resting his warm palm on your shoulder, nodding his head backwards to where the camera monitor was. he was holding a DSLR in his free hand, and you could tell from his eyes that he was trying to understand you just by reading your face.

how you wished you paid attention to the interviewer when she was running through the questions with you.

she was about seven questions in when she popped that fateful query. you couldn’t decide if it was the way she asked the question with such genuine curiosity or if it was the way juyeon froze slightly that made you panic.

“tell us more about your time in the most prestigious performing arts academy in the country? we heard you sacrificed a great deal of things to... reach your maximum potential. of course, same rule applies: if you’re uncomfortable, you’re very welcome to sound out to us.”

the monitor loses your attention because your eyes were now focused on juyeon straight. in the camera’s view, he was sitting on the left with his right profile angled towards the interviewer, and the monitor was just about a few feet from the interviewer.

so it is absolutely shattering when he looks dead straight at you, though he was under the beams of the studio lights and you were sitting in the dark behind the monitor.

please say you’re uncomfortable, please say you’re uncomfortable, please say you’re uncomfortable, please say you’re uncomfortable, please say you’re uncomfortable, please say you’re uncomfor--

“it was a very fulfilling four years, even for me. and yeah, you’re right, i did lose and sacrifice many things when i was a student there.”

kevin steals a quick glance at you after he lowers his camera, noticing that juyeon was also taking fleeting looks at you past the interviewer when he is answering.

“i lost time that should’ve been spent with my famlly, and right now i’m trying to make up for the time i lost with them then. i also lost friends i made in the institution i was in prior to enrolling in the academy, and...”

oh, god.

please... don’t.

“i lost someone i loved very much.”

there was an awkward, almost murderous silence in the air. the interviewer was taking a side-glance at kevin who had the camera angled at juyeon, and juyeon had this contorted, sad smile plastered on his face as he said that last line.

“is this a family member or a partner?”

juyeon looks up through his gelled hair and glances at you, the purple box he was sitting on making you feel like ripping your hair off your scalp and shoving it down your own throat.

“a partner.”

a hesitant pause.

juyeon seems to be contemplating with himself if he should continue, and he loses the battle to himself.

“she was my everything, then i made a mistake by taking her for granted and choosing my work over her. the day i lost her was the day i realised that i was terrible at time management, that i needed to learn how to prioritise the things i needed in life.”

another pause.

kevin looks at you, but your eyes were beginning to glisten with a layer of tears. tears of hurt, sadness, loss, grief, maybe even anger, you weren’t sure anymore.

was he just saying this now because you were in the room?

“i didn’t know i needed her until i lost her, and i lost her to another man. it was the biggest mistake then, and it’ll probably be the biggest mistake i’ll ever make.”

slightly stunned at the sudden emotional confession caught on film, she turns to kevin, who gestures for a time out.

“right, thank you for your honesty, mr lee. we’ll be taking a short break here and we’ll have you back here in five, is that alright?”

your feet shove the chair backwards, and you turn away from the monitor, hands flying up to your eyes and gently dabbing away the tears threatening to fall.

“yes, five,” you hear juyeon respond, but your feet bring you to the equipment room and the automatic light flickers on when you step in, the heavy door shutting loudly behind you.

the ghost staring back at you in one of the dry cabinets used to store the cameras begins to fish out all your emotions one by one, and you struggle to contain it.

he’s a liar and he does not prioritise you.

he is only saying this because you are in the room.

he does not love you anymore.

the door clicks open, and you immediately look up upon the realisation that kevin’s voice was ringing somewhere far away from the equipment room.

you wouldn’t consider juyeon as threatening or intimidating, but you were scared of him. not because of his anger or hurt, but because he was capable of leaving scars on you in places that nobody else has ever been able to before.

your soul, your heart, your belief in love.

juyeon watches you back away with every step he takes towards you, the fluorescent light stuck on the ceiling making his eyes look darker in the shadows of his hair on his face.

your hand flies up into the air unconsciously, and your palm is opened to him. it was trembling like you were out in the snow without a coat, and the tears return to your eyes as the sour in your nose gets harder to ignore.

“stop.”

it sounds more like a plead than a command, because of how shaky and terribly heartbreaking it was.

“please, don’t come any closer.”

something cracks in juyeon, and the sight alone breaks you further.

“y/n--”

“no, don’t--”

“i just--”

“please, just stop talki--”

one large step was enough for him to reach you, and he completely disregards the palm you have in the air between you when he presses his lips into yours.

the impact jerks your tears over your lids and more dribble out when you shut your eyes instinctively, tasting the familiar sweetness on your tongue when he willingly parts his lips.

your cheeks were cupped in his warm hands, and your hands were balled into fists against his chest.

the automatic light flickers off when there was a lack of movement, and the darkness only fuels this intoxicating moment.

it was a still, long kiss, but your heart felt like it was being thrashed about in a cage.

it feels like someone was driving the tip of a shoe into your muscles, stepping and shoving clenched fists into your bones and cracking them into pieces like twigs.

his fingers were digging into the hair behind your ear as you feel yourself involuntarily melting into his hands, then this feeling of missing him overwhelms you like you were drowning in sorrow.

juyeon pulls away, eyes frantically searching yours for any sign of hatred or anger or any loaded emotions.

but seeing him look at you with immeasurable amounts of detriment only reminds you of the second he realised you spent the night with another man.

guilt fills you like someone stuffed a pipe down your throat and your tears collect in the corners of your eyes when you manage to find the strength to writhe out of his hold.

“y/n--”

“no,” you shake your head and snap yourself away from him, backing yourself to the door so you could run.

run like you have for the last five years, because of mistakes you both made and neither of you refused to admit -- no, admitted but cannot forgive each other for.

“i still love you, and i don’t want to break you again... so please don’t break me anymore, juyeon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

to be continued

#juyeon angst #juyeon #lee juyeon #the boyz #the boyz fanfic #juyeon fanfic #the boyz juyeon #the boyz angst #timetohajima #well fuck

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williamlwolf89 · 5 years ago

Text

66+ Alliteration Examples to Make Your Message More Memorable

Looking for some alliteration examples to expand your writing repertoire?

This post is going to be your go-to resource.

It’s packed with examples from pop culture, sports, literature, and content marketing that’ll inspire you to infuse alliteration into your own writing.

You’ll also discover:

How alliteration helped you learn letter sounds and develop memory skills when you were young;

The differences between alliteration, assonance, and consonance;

How freelance writers, bloggers, students, marketers, and literary greats use alliteration to touch the hearts and minds of readers.

Ready? We’ll start with a quick alliteration refresher.

What is Alliteration?

Alliteration is a stylistic literary device that refers to the repetition of closely connected series of words that have the same beginning consonant sounds.

For example, here’s an all-too-true story that repeats the beginning “b” sound:

“Barbara baked banana bread, but it burned.”

(Bummer. )

Alliteration has been used for centuries to breathe life into the written (and spoken) word through the effect of the sounds of words.

For example, in the movie “V for Vendetta”, V’s self-introduction takes alliteration to extreme. The effect of the string of “v” words certainly draws attention to his character through emphasis and tone:

The words of his speech tell his background story, but the repeated “v” sounds help viewers get a sense of his persona. The ominous impression of “V” is unforgettable.

This extreme example of alliteration demonstrates the power of verbal alliteration in film, but this technique has similar effects in written form.

Before we dig into the benefits of alliteration, let’s take a look at alliteration’s close cousins: assonance and consonance.

What’s the Difference Between Alliteration, Assonance, and Consonance?

There are two sound-based literary devices that are very similar to, and sometimes confused with, alliteration: assonance and consonance.

Assonance is the repetition of vowel sounds in a sentence, like “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.”

Consonance is the repetition of consonant sounds in a sentence, like “All’s well that ends well.”

Repetitive sounds are the common factor between alliteration, assonance and consonance. Alliteration differs from the other two because it refers specifically to the first consonant sounds in words.

What are the Benefits of Alliteration, Assonance, & Consonance?

Due to the repetitive component of alliteration, assonance, and consonance, they are considered phonological mnemonic devices, which help to emphasize concepts and make passages more memorable.

Sound-based literary devices can also help to project a tone or mood with repeated sounds in words.

Alliteration is a multi-purpose literary device and its use can impact us in a variety of ways.

Truth be told, alliteration has benefited us from an early age, even before we could read.

The Evolution of Alliteration (in Our Lives)

Alliteration helps preschoolers learn letter sounds and develop memory skills.

We’re first introduced to alliteration through nursery rhymes and other children’s poetry:

“Three gray geese in a green field grazing…”

“Betty Botter bought some butter, but she said, this butter’s bitter; if I put it in my batter, it will make my batter bitter, but a bit of better butter will make my batter better…”

Children’s poet Shel Silverstein’s alliteratively titled “The Gnome, The Gnat and The Gnu” hints of repeated “n” sounds that are found sprinkled throughout his poem. His stylistic spelling also serves as a fun way to teach children that the letters “gn,” “kn” and “n” all make the same sound:

I saw an ol’ gnome Take a gknock at a gnat Who was gnibbling the gnose of his gnu. I said, “Gnasty gnome, Gnow, stop doing that. That gnat ain’t done gnothing to you.” He gnodded his gnarled ol’ head and said, “‘Til gnow I gnever gnew That gknocking a gnat In the gnoodle like that Was gnot a gnice thing to do.”

Fun alliterative tongue twisters challenge children’s fast-talking skills:

“Sally sells seashells at the seashore…”

“Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers…”

But alliterative children’s poetry and stories do more than simply teach phonics or entertain.

While pondering pickled peppers, children’s brains also work on associating meanings and emotional responses to sounds that they hear.

Intrigued? Read on.

Sound Symbolism: Labeling a Sound

Sounds of words actually reinforce their meaning and influence the interpretation of our language. Sound Symbolism is the recognition of the concept that sounds have a certain inherent meanings and enhance effective communication.

So, how are these sound symbolisms developed?

Symbolism of sounds is derived in part from how we create sounds with our mouths and vocal chords. We categorize sounds with an “internal catalog” of facial movements related to certain words combined with our awareness of how we physically form sounds and words with our mouths.

Try this:

Form your mouth like you’re going to say a word that starts with “sn.”

(Go ahead, nobody’s looking.)

You did that nasally pluggy-uppy maneuver with your tongue, didn’t you?

We’ve associated our nose with the vocalization of the “sn” sound. Not coincidentally, many words that are related to the nose and mouth start with “sn,” like snore, snout, sniff, snoop and sneeze.

Skillful use of alliteration emphasizes a tone or mood through rhythmic repetition of sounds, eliciting a response to the “internal sound symbolism catalog” that we all share.

Joni Mitchell wrote the alliterative opening song lyrics to her 1970 hit, “Big Yellow Taxi” to set the tone of her message. Listen to the repeated “p” words that project her “spitting mad” mood about what’s happening in her world:

“They paved paradise and put up a parking lot…”

Let’s take a look at some examples of alliteration in our everyday lives that help us remember things.

Pop Culture: What’s in an Alliterative Name?

Plenty of science and thought is put into naming consumer products or brands. Here are some business and brand names that have obvious mnemonic qualities:

Dunkin’ Donuts

Krispy Kreme

Bath & Body Works

Bed, Bath & Beyond

LuluLemon

Coca-Cola

Best Buy

American Airlines

PayPal

American Apparel

Sports team franchise names that make the all-alliteration team are:

Los Angeles Lakers

Buffalo Bills

Pittsburgh Pirates (and Penguins)

Seattle Seahawks

We often hear alliteration in music and film artists’ names. These famous television, film, sports and political figures were given a natural edge on popularity with their alliterative names:

Ronald Reagan

Mickey Mantle

Katie Courec

Jesse Jackson

Lucy Liu

We can only wonder if Norma Jean Mortenson’s popularity and success was aided by the act of changing her name to Marilyn Monroe. Other celebrity artists that adopted alliterative stage names are:

Backstreet Boys

Beastie Boys

Dr. Dre

Counting Crows

Foo Fighters

Many fictitious characters in children’s cartoons, books or movies have alliterative names. To highlight his importance, main character Spongebob Squarepants’ name is alliterative, but his friends’ names are not. Some others:

Mickey Mouse & Minnie Mouse

Big Bird

Donald Duck

Peppa Pig

Bugs Bunny

Marvel Universe superheroes’ real identities and supporting characters were deliberately named alliteratively by creator, Stan Lee. Curiously, he admitted in an interview that he decided to use first and last names with the same beginning sounds to make it easier to keep them straight in his own mind! To name a few:

Bruce Banner

Reed Richards

Sue Storm

Peter Parker

J. Jonah Jameson Jr.

Fin Fang Foom

Harry Potter author J. K. Rowling artfully named supporting characters using various literary devices. Here are a few examples of alliterative names in the series:

Luna Lovegood

Severus Snape

Salazar Slytherin

Godric Gryffindor

Helga Hufflepuff

Demonstrated by Ms. Rowling, the use of alliteration in literature helps readers remember characters in a story.

But writers can also use alliteration to emphasize a passage or develop a certain tone by repeating similar sounds. Let’s dive into some creative alliteration examples in literary classics.

Examples of Alliteration in Literature

In poetry and prose, alliteration and other sound devices like rhythm help create a tone or mood, suggest a tempo, and emphasize certain words or phrases.

Alliteration In Poetry

This following stanza of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge demonstrates his poetic use of sound-based literary devices in his work. Alliteration ties the words of the poem together as well as creating rhythmic and pleasant sounds:

“The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free; We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea.”

Alliteration helps to suggest an eerie rhythm of Edgar Allan Poe’s poem, “The Raven.” Notice the alliteration pairs in the first three stanzas:

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,…”

William Shakespeare used “f” sounds and “l” sounds to create images of death and life, respectively, in his prologue of “Romeo and Juliet”:

“From forth the fatal loins of these two foes; A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life.”

Alliteration In Prose

In “To Kill a Mockingbird”, Harper Lee used alliterative descriptions of families and places to emphasize the importance of these entities in her novel. With a heavy emphasis on “s” sounds, the town of Maycomb is described:

“…grass grew on the sidewalks, the courthouse sagged in the square… a black dog suffered on a summer’s day; bony mules… flicked flies in the sweltering shade of the live oaks on the square…”

Alliteration In Speeches

Due to its rhetorical nature, alliteration appears in many famous speeches in which sound-based literary devices like alliteration help to set a tone.

For example, Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address opens demanding attention with repetitive “f”sounds:

“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation…”

Another example is Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, which emphasized his dream for his children by repeating the hard “c” sound:

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”

These classic examples demonstrate that alliteration, used with other literary devices, helps readers develop sensory and emotional connections with words. That connection in turn helps to build a stronger understanding of the passages.

Ready to see how contemporary content writers artfully use alliteration to emotionally connect with their readers?

Examples of Alliteration in Content Marketing

We all know that the purpose of content marketing is to make a connection with our readers and inspire them to take action.

To that end, we’ve learned that we can use alliteration, power words, sensory words, and other writing devices and tools to create sensory and emotional connections with our readers. This emotional connection can help persuade our readers to take action.

Alliteration helps call attention to headlines, subheads, and email subject lines, but alliteration can also help to emphasize a point:

“Smart speakers, as well as their speechwriters, sprinkle their speeches with carefully-chosen power words…” – Jon Morrow

Let’s feel the power of some alliterative subject lines:

Pack a Punch With Alliterative Headlines

Alliterative phrases in these headlines call attention to the message and emphasize their purpose through alliteration:

57 Metaphor Examples That’ll Pack Your Prose With Persuasion

Working From Home? 14 Sanity-Saving Tools (+35 Pro Tips)

How to Become a Freelance Writer, Starting from Scratch

And, this power words headline gets alliteration bonus points:

801+ Power Words That Pack a Punch and Convert like Crazy

The rapid-succession Pack-a-Punch and Convert-like-Crazy plosive alliteration combo exerts an authoritative influence of Power like the old one-two. (Hard beginning consonant sounds create a sense of authority, but more on that later.)

Stop Scanners with Alliterative Subheads

Subheads serve several purposes, primarily to help organize your content for the reader. Alliteration can stop “subhead scanners” in their tracks by eliciting an emotional connection through sound symbolism, like these:

This one demands attention:

Polish Your Post So It’s Smoother Than a Slip ‘n Slide – from How to Write a Blog Post in 2020: The Ultimate Guide

And this subhead…

Make Money by Creating Collateral for Content-Hungry Business – from How to Make Money Writing: 5 Ways to Get Paid to Write in 2020

…leads readers into this alliterative text:

“In the last five years, content marketing — this concept of creating valuable content to attract customers and build credibility and trust — has undoubtedly gone mainstream.”

Get Clever With Alliterative Calls to Action

Email subject lines that use alliteration spark a call to action by projecting a certain tone or mood, connecting with the reader on an emotional or sensory level.

Here are some clever alliterative subject lines of email received while sheltering in place during the COVID-19 pandemic:

These alliteration examples show us how we can make a memorable impact by emphasizing a point or projecting a feeling or a mood.

Ready to put alliteration to the test? Let’s start with a little experiment.

Alliteration: Testing the Tone

But how can we use alliteration in content writing to be more persuasive and memorable?

Circling back to the concept of sound symbolism, we learned that sounds have inherent meanings. Let’s see how effective those inherent meanings are when they’re emphasized in alliterative phrases.

If you recall, we recognized the strength of the alliterative beginning word sounds in:

801+ Power Words That Pack a Punch and Convert like Crazy

But not all sounds are created equally.

To demonstrate, we’ve replaced the original alliteration with other alliterative words that express a similar concept:

XX Power Words That’ll Steal the Show and Woo like Wonder

Our revised alliterative headline falls flat because sibilant “s” and airy “w” sounds aren’t as authoritative as the original plosive “p” and hard “c” sounds.

Clearly, we need to pay attention to projected tones of sounds when using alliteration.

Alliteration Effects: How to Use Them

Reverse-engineering successful alliteration begins with understanding the effect of beginning word sounds.

Match the Sound to the Mood

Beginning consonant sounds are associated with a combination of two physical actions when we vocalize the sound:

Voiced or Voiceless (whether the vocal cords are used to make the sound), and

Fricatives vs. Stops (whether or not air is pushed from or stopped at the mouth).

Hard consonant sounds that are typically voiceless or stops, and will have a plosive sound that can elicit a sense of authority or abruptness.

Conversely, some soft consonant sounds are typically voiced or fricatives. They can be soft and breathy, eliciting a more soothing tone. Other soft consonant sounds like “s” or “z” are sibilant, suggesting malice or slyness.

Alliteration Tip #1:

A key to successful use of alliteration is to match the effect of beginning sounds of words to project the desired effect of your writing.

Test Out A Tool

Stuck for an alliteration?

Poem Generator has several writing aids to suggest phrases or passages to writers. Among these tools is an Alliteration Generator. Simply key in a word or sentence that you’d like to alliterate, and the generator returns a list of options.

We tested the tool by entering:

“Let the tool do the work.”

Our results included several options including:

“Let the tired, trustworthy tool do the wooden, witty work.”

Obviously, a tool doesn’t possess your creativity and judgement, so use it as an aid instead of an end. Results vary!

Alliteration Tip #2:

Solicit the help of alliteration generators to suggest alliterative words, but remember that your creativity far outweighs any software program.

Give It a Go, But Don’t Go Gaga

Once you get the hang of alliteration, you may be tempted to use it more often than you should. Don’t!

Simply said, sentences with a surplus of similar sounds will sound silly and somewhat stupid!

Alliteration Tip #3:

Don’t go overboard with alliteration in your writing. Like all powerful tools, you need to use alliteration sparingly.

This post is part of Smart Blogger's

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From elevating your writing skills to getting paid to write, learn everything you need to know about freelancing.

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Add Alliteration to Your Toolkit

Ready to make better connections with your readers?

Draw your inspiration from these alliteration examples to help your readers feel the effect of your message.

Remember, alliteration is all about sound. Sound can help you emphasize a key point or convey a tone by deliberately selecting suitable words. Make a sensory impact by selecting beginning word sounds for their symbolism and repeating them to intensify the effect.

Then, take pride in your work’s alliterative transition from:

dull to dramatic,

trite to tantalizing or

boring to badass!

You get the idea!

The post 66+ Alliteration Examples to Make Your Message More Memorable appeared first on Smart Blogger.

from SEO and SM Tips https://smartblogger.com/alliteration-examples/

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smochiis · 7 years ago

Text

dress me up, buttercup I three (m)

✩ pairing : hoseok x reader

✩ genre: idol+stylist!au, drama, humor, angst

✩ warning: face sitting, fem dom, dirty talk

✩ word count: 8.1k

✩ summary: There are nearly 1,000 reasons why mixing work and romance is a terrible idea. Unfortunately, Jung Hoseok makes it very hard for you to resist.

✩ chapters: one | two | three | four

✩ a/n: this was really just an excuse to write whiny, needy hobi….. (゜▽゜;)

The first few weeks of your relationship are spent learning each other. If you thought you knew everything about Hoseok before, you were mistaken – there are so many things about him that you didn’t know or didn’t notice. For example, his constant need to shower because he hates being sweaty, the fact that he tends to get just a little grumpy when other men look at you, and the almost invisible freckle on his upper lip that begs for you to kiss it.

You also learn that besides his “oppa kink” – which he swears he doesn’t have – he really, really likes to eat you out. And that surprises you because none of your previous boyfriends enjoyed it that much. Sure they did it, but it was more to reciprocate than it was because they genuinely liked it.

Then again, you know you shouldn’t be surprised considering how often Hoseok’s out there wagging his tongue on stage.

You feel like you’re constantly learning new things about him. Each day brings a new surprise, a gift.

It’s your willingness to embrace this that allows the two of you to settle into your relationship with comfort. But it’s also because you have strict rules about leaving work at work and home at home. At work, he’s an idol and you’re his wardrobe stylist. At home, you’re an ordinary couple who watch bad movies and quarrel over how much butter to put in the popcorn.

And as an inevitable result, your relationship is turned into something discreet. You don’t really intend for it to happen, but you and Hoseok both agree that it’s probably better this way.

Because, your other worries aside, you have no doubt that it would be frowned upon, maybe even cost you your job. And the last thing you want to do is create more waves with management. Or the media. God, if Hoseok’s fans were to find out he’s dating a staff member…

Not only would it damage the group’s image, you’d likely need a bodyguard of your own.

You know Hoseok, and all the boys really, love their fans. But he’s told you plenty a horror story about the especially entitled ones and how frightening they can be. Mean comments online, you can handle. Death threats and physical violence, though? Probably not. And if there’s one thing Hoseok isn’t willing to risk, it’s your safety.

Still, sometimes he just can’t help himself. He steals kisses when no one’s looking, plays with your fingers, rubs your shoulders when you’re stressed.

You’re not perfect either – sometimes you just have to kiss his cheek right before a performance. Looking at him all dressed up in outfits that you pull does something to you, makes you willing to take risks. And the possibility of being caught is tantalizing, an added thrill you never thought you’d enjoy.

And for a while, everything is perfect.

But unfortunately an idol’s career is 95 percent work and five percent rest. Which means that your career is 95 percent work and five percent rest. Your book grows at an exponential rate, over half of the photos being Hoseok.

You worry that you might be a little biased. Just a little.

The days and the schedules get longer and harder. Variety shows, interviews, award shows, flights out of the country, guest appearances, fan meetings, flights back into the country, online mini-episodes… Back to back to back to back. There’s seemingly no end. And on the rare chance that the two of you both have spare time, you’re spending it with each other instead of resting.

Though Hoseok has fallen asleep on you more than once. And while you try not to let it bother you, because you understand he’s even busier than you, the irritation begins to simmer when it happens time after time…after time…

You’d like to say that your relationship is relatively unaffected by it all. But, if you’re being honest, the combination of little sleep, over-working, and next to no personal time leaves the two of you high-strung and snippy. You bicker over silly things, like which direction the toilet paper should face, but thankfully you manage to hold fast to the golden rule: leave work at work and home at home.

Until the day the both of you reach your breaking point.

Hoseok is running on maybe two hours of sleep and a chocolate-glazed donut. You’re not doing much better but at least you’ve had a couple coffees, though you’re beginning to think that drinking them on an empty stomach isn’t good for your temper.

The day started with Jimin sleeping well past his alarm, thus making the boys very late, and as a consequence they got stuck in early-commuter traffic. Once they finally arrived on set, Namjoon accidentally knocked over one of the very expensive cameras, Taehyung almost broke his finger, and Jungkook ripped his pants right up the thigh by simply squatting. And if that isn’t enough, one of the makeup artists smashed her vial of liquid foundation, Jin’s manager cracked his phone all to hell, and the set director almost wiped out on a puddle of spilled coffee.

Nothing seems to be going right for anybody, not just you and Hoseok. Only one person seems unaffected, bright and smiley, and you chalk it up to his being an intern – he’s still fresh and crisp.

Hojun was brought on only a month ago but he fits right in with the rest of the staff. He’s especially taken a liking to you, following you around and asking questions. You figure it’s because you’re the one closest to his age and so you take it upon yourself to mentor him where you can.

And you won’t lie, he’s been very helpful during the schedule from hell.

He fetches you coffee after coffee, brings you snacks, and even runs back to the dressing room when you need to switch something at the last minute. Like now, as you observe the tiny, almost invisible stain on Hoseok’s shirtsleeve.

“Hobi,” you grumble, “I thought I told you to be careful.”

“I was,” he protests.

“Obviously not.” You hold his own arm up to his eyes so he can see the stain. “I’m glad you got something to eat but this shirt is worth more than my paycheck. And it’s dry-clean only.” Glancing over your shoulder, you catch the intern’s eye. “Hojun, there’s another shirt back in the dressing room. Second garment sleeve on the right. Could you go grab it for me?”

He beams, glad to be given something to do. “No problem, noona.”

As he leaves, you turn back to Hoseok. “Take this off so I can put it with the other dry-clean only stuff.”

But he isn’t even looking at you. He’s staring at the intern’s back as he hurries to the dressing room. “How long is he going to be here?” he asks.

“Hojun? Another two months.” You tug on Hoseok’s shirt. “Off.”

“I don’t like him,” he grumbles, but begins unbuttoning his shirt. You just snort. And Hoseok takes that as a sign to explain himself. “He follows you around everywhere. Noona, noona, noona. Like a puppy. Or an annoying little kid.”

He’s jealous, you realize. And while usually that would just amuse you, you’re too tired to deal with it today.

“You used to do that too, you know,” you say, lifting a brow.

He just scowls. “He’s an intern, it’s different. And he’s not even really your intern, is he?”

“No.” You shake your head as Hoseok hands you the ruined shirt. “Technically, he’s the team leader’s intern. But we all use him where we can because we need another set of hands. He’s useful.”

“Funny, I never see him with the other stylists.” Hoseok’s tone is dark and speculative and you don’t like it one bit. He might not be implying anything yet, but it’s clear in his eyes what he thinks about this situation.

Your lips purse as you stare at him. “Maybe it’s because I’m comfortable to be around. It wasn’t too long ago that I was an intern myself so I remember what it’s like and he appreciates that. Now could you drop it?” You don’t intend for your voice to come out in a snap, but it does.

“Fine,” Hoseok snaps back.

And you naively think that’s the end of it. Hojun returns moments later with the garment sleeve in one hand and his phone in the other, nodding furiously at the voice on the other end of the line.

“Of course,” he says with the barest hint of fear which tells you he’s speaking to Soojung, the team leader. “I’ll be there in just a second.” He tries to hang up the phone and hand you the garment bag at the same time and winds up dropping both in his hastiness.

You bend over and grab them, handing him back his phone. “You’d better get going. She gets angry when she’s kept waiting,” you warn with a grin.

Hojun just nods, well aware, but he flashes a matching grin. “Thanks, noona.”

When he practically sprints away, you find yourself chuckling. Because you remember doing the same exact thing. It’s weird to think that almost four years have passed since then, even weirder to think that you’ve been working as Hoseok’s personal wardrobe stylist for nearly two of those years.

You never intended to stay this long…

Hoseok is strangely very still as you bring out the new shirt and hand it to him. Usually he shifts his weight from foot to foot and begs you to help him get dressed, shamelessly abusing his “cute factor”. But now he just shrugs on the shirt himself, quickly does up the buttons, and rolls the cuffs. You have barely enough time to make a last-minute inspection before he heads to the filming site.

And it’s only after he’s long gone that you realize he didn’t speak a word to you that whole time.

You half expect Hoseok to cancel your dinner plans. But you receive no text or call that says otherwise so you busy yourself that night making fish with beans and rice. It’s not extravagant by any means, but it’s tasty and easy to make. And, quite frankly, you think you deserve an award for even attempting to make dinner instead of just ordering out.

You’ve just put a couple fish fillets on the saute pan to steam when you hear your door open. Hoseok joins you in the kitchenette moments later, leaning against the frame.

He doesn’t say anything as you boil the beans and then put them on top of the rice. Or when you plate the fish and sit down at the table.

All you get is a mumbled, “Thank you,” before he begins to eat.

You figure he’s probably still sore about earlier. But the fact that he showed up to dinner means that he’s not too angry, you think. And the food is tasty, which makes up for the lack of conversation.

Halfway through dinner, your phone buzzes.

It’s a text from your old college friend, Jenny, the one who helped you get hired. Every once in a while, she checks up on you, asks how you’re handling everything and how the boys are doing. She’s been an excellent confident during the last few weeks because she understands exactly what you’re going through. Opening it, you’re greeted with a picture. Her chubby-faced baby, dressed in a pink tutu and matching headband, is propped up next to a small chalkboard that reads Promoted to Big Sister!

The warm smile on your face feels so nice after frowning all day. Quickly, you text your friend back with many congratulations and an appropriate amount of emojis, wondering what kind of gift you should send her. At least she’s having a great day, you think with a smile as you go back to eating.

That smile quickly drops when Hoseok scoffs, “Who’s that from? Hojun?”

“What?” You really hope he’s joking but when you look across the table, it’s clear he’s not. “What on earth makes you think I’m texting Hojun?”

He pushes a piece of fish around on his plate, runs his tongue over his teeth. “The kid’s practically attached to your hip. Every time I turn around, he’s asking you for something. He can’t go five minutes without talking to his noona.” Hoseok twists the word like it’s something foul.

“He’s an intern,” you say, grinding your jaw, putting down your chopsticks. “Of course he’s going to ask me questions. Why are you being like this?”

“Why?” he echoes, blowing out an incredulous laugh. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? Seriously, Y/N, you can’t be that blind.”

The jealousy is sharp in his tone and, tired and exhausted as you are, your anger flares. Along with your disbelief. Because, Hojun? Really?

“You think he likes me?” You can’t hold in your scoff, letting Hoseok know how outlandish it is. You brace your elbow on the table and fix him with a hard look as you count off on your fingers. “First of all, I highly doubt that. Second of all, even if he did, what can I do about it? I can’t stop someone else’s feelings. And thirdly, it shouldn’t matter because I don’t have feelings for him.”

And that’s all that Hoseok really should care about, in your opinion. The only thing you can control is your own feelings. How can he expect you to control other people’s?

Hoseok’s jaw is flexing, his knuckles turning white. “But you encourage him.”

“When have I ever?” You gape.

“All the time!” Suddenly he’s standing, throwing his hands out. “You let him call you noona, and follow you around. You even let him buy you coffee and donuts.” His eyes, usually bright and warm, are cold and exhausted as they glare at you. “And just today he dropped his phone on accident, of course his noona picked it up for him and flashed her ass right in his face.”

Your jaw drops in amazement. That’s what this is over? Because you picked up Hojun’s phone?

“Are you serious, Hoseok?” you say, fury bubbling under your skin. You push yourself out of your seat and level your gaze. “I can’t be nice to someone without you going into jealous Hulk-mode?”

“You can’t be nice to a kid who’s got feelings for you,” he growls.

And something inside you snaps.

“Okay, that’s it. You’re being ridiculous.” You storm away from the dinner table, not sure where, exactly, you’re going. It isn’t like there’s a lot of space in your apartment. You just need to put some distance between you and Hoseok.

But he follows you.

“How am I being ridiculous?” he says seriously, coming up right behind you. “Most guys would be pissed if some kid was following their girlfriend around and she didn’t do anything about it.”

You spin around on your heel and peg Hoseok with your most menacing stare. “Are you even listening to yourself?” you hiss, pushing a finger into his chest. “Hojun is an intern, that’s it. You’re telling me you’re threatened by a kid because he calls me noona and brings me donuts on Fridays? You’re telling me who I can and can’t be nice to?” Fury drips from your every word.

He pauses, as if finally hearing you for the first time today. But he looks down at you with that glint in his eyes, his jaw locking, and you know he’s still not really listening.

“Are you honestly that insecure?” you growl. “If you’re going to be like this every time I smile at another man then you really need to do some self-reflecting. Now would be a good time to get started.” You gesture to the door.

You expect him to spit something back at you. And seeing the look on his face, you know he wants to. But instead, to your surprise, he storms over to the hallway and shoves his feet into his shoes, grabs his stuff, and throws open your front door.

He’s yanking it closed behind him before you can say anything.

Stunned, you stare at your door for a few moments. And as angry as you are, you’re even angrier that he left. Despite that you literally told him to go.

You expected him to stay, so you could try and work things out. But maybe, you think hazily, he doesn’t want to work this out.

For a few hours, you stew in your anger.

Hoseok must have lost his damn mind if he thinks that your intern-who’s-not-really-your-intern is any sort of competition. And the fact that he’s searching for competition at all just makes you angrier. You’re with him, you’re faithful, and that should be enough.

You don’t have time for men who act like pre-pubescent brats.

You throw away the leftovers of the forgotten meal and scrub the dishes until your hands are raw. And afterwards, you clean the living room. Even though there isn’t much to clean for once because you’ve hardly been home. You vent all your frustrations with the duster and the vacuum and only then, hours later, do you allow yourself a shower.

It’s there, under the hot water, that your anger ironically begins to cool.

Hoseok has been pushed to his limits lately and so have you. You haven’t slept a full night in weeks, nor been eating healthy, and you know the two of you just aren’t being yourselves as a result. But you also don’t want to make excuses for his behavior. He was wrong, and maybe you didn’t exactly handle it the right way, but wrong is wrong.

Still, as you crawl into bed, you can’t help but worry. He hasn’t called or texted you. You have no idea if he even made it back to the dorms okay and you contemplate calling him to check.

“No,” you tell yourself.

Though you know you shouldn’t let pride dictate you, you refuse to contact him first. He has to be the one to come to you. Even though you really, really want to just check if he’s okay.

Worrying your bottom lip, you clutch your phone and try to fall asleep. Just in case he calls, you tell yourself. But you’re unsure if he will.

At some point you must have really fallen asleep. Because the next thing you know, the mattress dips and there are lips pressed to your sleep-warm neck. You stir awake at the familiar presence, dropping your phone and rubbing your eyes.

“Hobi?” Your voice is rough with sleep.

“Hey,” he whispers after a moment. “I came back. I didn’t want us to go to bed angry.”

Pushing yourself up, you blink at his familiar shape. And even though it’s dark, you can make out his slumped shoulders and the frown-wrinkles marring his face. He smells like outside, which means he didn’t go back to the dorms.

The fact that he’s here, with you, speaks volumes.

“I did some self-reflecting like you said. Took a walk in the park, which I haven’t done in years,” he begins hesitantly. “Maybe it was the air there, I don’t know, but I cleared my head…realized you’re right. I was being ridiculous. A jealous asshole.”

Hearing your own words, you suddenly feel slightly guilty. “Hobi…”

“No, no,” he holds up his hands with a sigh, “I was. I tried to control you.”

“We all say and do things we don’t really mean when we’re angry,” you tell him softly, scooting closer. He holds very still, like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind, but when you lean against his arm, he relaxes a little.

“Maybe. But that’s no excuse. That isn’t the kind of person I want to be.” His sigh is of pure exhaustion as he scrubs a hand over his face.

“I know.”

“I’m tired and I’ve been overworking myself for too long. We’ve barely had real time together. So when I saw this kid hanging around you, flirting with you… I got jealous,” he admits in a small voice. “I thought I could get over it but when you didn’t outright reject him, I snapped. And I know that’s not fair. And me being tired is no excuse either. I let my own insecurities get the better of me and I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You can tell that he’s thought about this a lot. Probably practiced this speech in his head on his way back to you. And you know it must pain him to say it aloud because you can feel his honest regret in each and every word.

Which prompts you to say, “I’m sorry, too.”

Hoseok glances at you in confusion.

“I should have taken your concerns more seriously instead of writing them off. Even if I didn’t agree with them,” you say as you search for one of his hands in the dark. You find and give it a gentle squeeze. “I said a lot of harsh things when I should have at least listened to you first. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I’m the one who should be asking for forgiveness here,” he says incredulously.

“Then let’s just agree to forgive each other,” you suggest, pressing into his side and holding his hand.

Now that he’s here with you, and you know he’s okay, you’re relieved. And more than anything, you want to kiss him. To reassure him and yourself.

“You know,” you whisper slowly, “they say the best way to make up after a fight is to kiss each other.”

“Oh, is that what they say?” Hoseok snorts. But, nonetheless, he tilts his head to the side so that your lips can meet.

You intend for it to be a short, sweet kiss. A symbolic ending to the feud. But the second his soft mouth is under yours, you’re reminded of exactly how long it’s been since the two of you have really kissed. The past month has been nothing but stolen kisses backstage and quick cheek-pecks after dinner. You just haven’t had time for anything more than that.

So without meaning to, it turns into a sweltering atonement. Your tongue is in his mouth and your hands are in his hair and you’re kissing Hoseok like you’ve been dying to for the past month.

He must feel it too, because he holds you tight and loves your mouth like he’s trying to make amends. Slow, easy, apologizing with each glide of his tongue and nip of his teeth.

Your insides are molten by the time you reluctantly part to breathe.

“You know,” he pants, thumb rubbing circles against your hip, “we may have apologized for being jerks. But I still haven’t apologized for trying to control you.”

“Mm…” You nuzzle into the side of his neck.

“I figure the best way to make up for that is to let you control me,” Hoseok whispers. “Eye for an eye.”

And the suggestion is so seductive, your interest piquing immediately, you can’t help but sit up a little bit straighter. “You think so?” Your voice is breathier than you thought.

“Mm.” He leans over, presses his mouth to your ear. “Tell me what to do, angel.”

You shiver, a thousand ideas coming to mind.

You’ve always been more than happy to let your partner take control in the bedroom, rarely doing so yourself. Not for lack of interest, more likely lack of motivation. And none of your past bedmates have ever blatantly told you to have your way with them. Hoseok is the first. And because it’s Hoseok, you’re confident.

Licking your lips, you say, “Take off your shirt.”

There’s a spark in his eyes as he immediately complies. He tosses his black sweatshirt onto the floor of your bedroom, leaving his chest exposed as he lays propped against your pillows. Golden skin, defined ridges, and firm muscle. Even muted by the darkness you know it’s all still there.

You flatten your palm against his chest, feel the strong beat of his heart. It seems to get even stronger as you touch him, sliding your hand down his sternum and to his abdomen before coming back up. Your fingers dance around the flat brown disc of his nipple and you grin when it turns into a hard nub before your eyes.

He’s excited by the idea of this and you can’t wait to play out one of your fantasies.

“Lay down,” you murmur.

Hoseok pushes himself lower on the bed so that he lays flat, your pillows in a mound behind his head. He stays still, arms limp by his sides, and stares at you while awaiting your instructions.

And when you hook your fingers in your pajama bottoms and slide them down your legs, you can see the glint of excitement in his eyes. He knows exactly what you’re thinking and without realizing, he begins to lick his lips.

Though you’ve always loved being eaten out, Hoseok was actually the one to bring up “face-sitting” not too long into your relationship. You couldn’t help but be intrigued by the idea of it and he promised to try it one day. Today seems to be the day and you’re admittedly much more turned on than you thought you would be.

You’re not too sure about the actual mechanics of it, though, so it will be a learning experience.

When your pajama bottoms and panties are gone and you’re left naked from the hips down, Hoseok groans. “God, angel, I can smell you from here. You’re already turned on, let me taste you,” he says.

Your automatic response is to comply, but you stop yourself with a raised brow. “I thought I was in charge here?”

Hoseok swallows, licks his lips again. “Please let me taste you?” he corrects.

And the sound of his voice, the way he says please, makes you shiver. It sounds so good. You’re tempted to give him whatever he wants, let him do whatever he wants, so long as he keeps saying please like that.

You’re surprised at how easy it is to gather your courage and place your knees on either side of Hoseok’s face. And while he must have a great view, you personally think yours is better. His naked torso gleams in the moonlight while he keeps his hands fisted at his sides. You’re tempted to touch him all over but you hold yourself back.

Because Hoseok starts leaving little kisses all over the insides of your thighs. Gentle, wistful touches here and there that make you shiver.

“More passionately,” you whisper.

He adds his tongue, laving your skin like he’s pretending it’s your mouth. His kisses are open-mouthed and hot, leaving behind spit and the slight scrape of his teeth. It isn’t long before your thighs are wet and it isn’t from your arousal, it’s all Hoseok.

“That’s good,” you praise, and you’re ashamed to admit that you’re already a little breathless. You reach back and curl your fingers in his hair as you lower yourself just a little. “Now my pussy. Kiss it.”

You’re slightly nervous about being so demanding. Worried about abusing this control. But Hoseok is completely relaxed and more than willing to play, which eases you.

His lips meet your slit without hesitation. Again, the kisses are small and light. Gentle touches against your flesh that is already wet. He licks a stripe down your slit before repeating, nibbling softly on your labia and kissing it. The only sounds in your bedroom are your breathing and Hoseok’s wet tongue as it works.

You swallow, resisting the urge to grind down into his face. “Tenderly. Like you mean it,” you tell him.

He presses his mouth further into your pussy, taking the sensitive folds into his mouth and sucking. His access is limited, though, so you slide one hand down your front and between your legs. You spread yourself open for him since he’s unable to do so himself, hands gripping the sheets.

His chin just barely brushes your clit with every movement of his jaw and you sigh. “Use your tongue.” You can feel the wet muscle digging through your folds, licking up your juices. You can also feel your vaginal muscles starting to protest at being so empty. “Now kiss,” you murmur, using your other hand to tug on Hoseok’s hair again.

He hums, trading his tongue for sweet kisses against your burning flesh. But then he goes right back to devouring you like he’s starving and you’re his first meal in four days. You’re practically dripping into his mouth by the time he works his tongue inside your hole.

But the penetration is too shallow.

“Deeper.” Your voice is perilously close to a whine and you try to get yourself back under control. You’re the one in charge here, you’re the one who has to keep their cool.

You lower your hips just a little more and Hoseok leans his neck up and his tongue pushes deeper inside you. And while he fucks you with his tongue, your fingers glide over your clit and your hips beging to swivel. Shamelessly, you grind against his mouth and chin and have to bite your bottom lip to keep from whimpering.

“That feels so good, Hobi.” You suck in a breath, concentrate on the feeling of his lips and tongue.

You’re honestly surprised at how good this feels. Though you were excited to try face-sitting, a part of you doubted it would go well. You’ve never been more happy to be wrong. The trick is simply confidence.

But, as you’re the sole one in charge, you cannot focus only on your own pleasure. You have to pay attention to Hoseok, too. Because he’s more than glad to get you off and ignore himself and you can’t have that.

So even though you don’t want to, you pull your hips away from Hoseok’s face. He lets you go with a gasp, chest heaving.

You lean forward and crawl a little lower down his body, your hands finding the waistband of his black sweats. And even in the dark, you can see the huge bulge inside. Everything inside you coils with excitement and your mouth waters.

Hoseok lifts his hips off the bed so you can push his sweatpants and boxers down to his mid-thigh. You don’t take them off completely, as that would require you to leave him.

You feel yourself get wetter when you set your gaze on his dick. It’s fully erect, flushed red and angry, the tip wet with pre-cum. Your hands smooth over Hoseok’s toned abs, fingers finding the trail of hair that leads to the base of his cock.

“This hard already?” you tease as you wrap your hand around him. “You like eating my pussy that much?”

“Yes,” Hoseok hisses, hips pushing into your hand. “You taste so good, angel. I’m so fucking hard.”

“Mm,” you hum and begin to stroke him nice and slow. Your thumb gathers the pre-cum from his slit and spreads it around, a natural lubricant. It still isn’t enough, though, so as you lower your mouth you say, “Fuck me with your tongue, Hobi.”

The noise he makes when you put the tip of him in your mouth is something like a low whine. He groans something afterwards, but the words are muffled by your folds as he returns to licking and sucking. Slowly, you suck more of him, your tongue laying flat against the underside of his cock.

“Fuck,” Hoseok grunts, you have no trouble hearing that. “Can I use my hands? I need to touch you.”

You let his dick slide out of your mouth, your hand pumping him. “You can use your hands.”

To be honest, you meant to tell him that earlier. But you sort of forgot, being too caught up in how well he fucks with his mouth.

You can feel the woosh of air as Hoseok’s hands fly to your waist, bringing you back against his mouth. He licks his way from your clit to your entrance, up and down, until you have to bite back your whimpers. He makes it so hard to focus on him but you’re determined as you suck the tip of his cock and run your fingertips along his inner thighs.

Inevitably, his hands find their way to your ass and start kneading. It’s like he can’t help himself, you think with a laugh.

But when his tongue starts to swirl around your clit, your walls clench around nothing and your laughter dies. “Fingers, Hobi,” you say, licking his cock from base to tip. “Use your fingers.”

As your own fingers begin to play with Hoseok’s balls, you can hear him sucking on his fingers. You doubt you need the extra lubrication, you’re already soaked, but the sound makes you groan around his cock. Hoseok rims your entrance with his fingers a few times before easing them inside.

They sink all the way in, till his knuckles are touching your plump lips. At the same time, you swallow as much of his cock as you can without gagging.

You feel so full. His cock in your mouth, fingers in your pussy, tongue on your clit – Hoseok is everywhere. And though you’re supposed to be the one in charge, you feel overwhelmed by his presence. If he keeps thrusting his fingers like that and sucking on your clit, you’ll come in no time.

You can already feel it.

“Fuck, Hobi,” you moan. You take him out of your mouth and rest your head on his thigh while your hands jerk him off, knead his balls. His dick is covered with your saliva which makes it easy and you squeeze him hard enough to make him choke. “Keep going.”

“Are you about to come? I can feel it,” Hoseok pants, scissoring his fingers and stretching you.

“Mhm.” Your eyes scrunch shut as you push your hips back against his face, seeking relief. “I’m gonna come all over your fingers and in your mouth. Would you like that?” you whisper, turning yourself on.

Hoseok’s groan vibrates through your pussy and you stutter. “God, yes. I want that,” he mumbles into your clit.

His fingers start working harder, pushing inside you fast and deep. He alternates between rubbing the flat of his tongue against your clit and sucking on it hard. With every move, he makes it harder for you to concentrate until it gets to the point that you can’t – all you can do is sloppily jerk him off and roll his balls between your fingers.

Your orgasm is fast approaching, your whole body tightening in response. And you kiss the sensitive crest just underneath the head of Hoseok’s cock and moan, “Just like that. Yes, Hobi, fuck.”

He sucks hard on your clit one last time and then you’re falling apart. It feels like you’ve lost control over your whole body as your walls squeeze around his fingers and pleasure runs through you in wave after wave. You’re left gasping, frozen, as he helps you through your orgasm with thrusting fingers and gentle kisses on your clit.

Your ears are ringing by the time his fingers slow. “You taste so good, angel. I could fuck you like this forever.” He presses his mouth to the inside of your thigh, smearing it with your release.

It takes you a minute to find your voice. “So you don’t want me to sit on your dick?” you ask teasingly after clearing your throat.

“I didn’t say that.” Hoseok’s voice is suddenly strained and his cock jumps in your hand, as if afraid you’ve forgotten about it.

“Mm…” You stroke him reverently, as if you’re thinking. “Do you want me to fuck you? You want your cock in my tight little pussy?” you murmur, surprising yourself. You’ve never been able to execute dirty talk like this without feeling ridiculous.

But there’s something about having Hoseok underneath you that makes it so hot. Knowing that he’s fully capable of throwing you under him and fucking you senseless, yet he’s choosing not to. Knowing that he’s willingly let you control every bit of this and how he experiences it. It’s empowering, but also humbling, because you realize how much he must trust you.

His fingers dig into your ass. “I definitely want that. Please, angel.”

“Good, because I want that too.” You leave his cock with a kiss, petting the insides of his thighs.

Then you lift your hips into the air and crawl off of Hoseok, kneeling next to him on the bed. You lean over, searching blindly in the dark for the drawer to your nightstand table. Finding it, you rummage around until your fingers brush over a familiar foil packet.

Hoseok began leaving a stash of condoms at your apartment a few days after his first “visit”. Unfortunately, it’s too risky for an idol to carry them around on his person. One of the other boys actually found himself in deep water a few years ago because of them, so the concern isn’t unwarranted. Besides, it’s not like you guys have sex anywhere else.

Ripping open the packet, you expertly roll the condom on Hoseok’s throbbing length, pinching the tip to give him a little room. Sitting there, you contemplate teasing him. But when you look at his face, you don’t think you can.

He’s flushed, eyes dark, biting his lip. He stares at you like he’s desperate for your touch, anything you’re willing to give him. His freshly-dyed hair is matted with sweat and clings to the sides of his face because he hasn’t been able to push it out of the way, and your eyes catch the way the column of his throat works as he swallows.

He looks like he’s about to beg for relief.

And you don’t know why that turns you on but your insides throb as you straddle his hips. Reaching beneath yourself, you prop up his cock as you sink down.

“Oh, my god,” Hoseok moans, kicking his head back and exposing his throat.

You’re so wet from his mouth and your previous orgasm that he slides right in. The stretch is amazing, still so good after months together, and you don’t think it will ever feel this way with anyone else.

“You feel so good, so big,” you mumble, moving your hips in circles just the way he likes.

The combination of praise and your hips earns you loud, unabashed moans from Hoseok. You squeeze him tighter without meaning to, his noises making your body react. Although Hoseok is vocal during sex, he usually just grunts and hisses with the occasional groan under his breath. The loud moaning is new and he sounds so good you want more.

“Fuck, Hobi, your cock is so good,” you continue, hoping the praise will give you what you want. “You stretch me out so good. No one fucks my pussy like you,” you gasp, surprised at how dirty but true those words are, “and no one ever will.”

The veins in Hoseok’s neck are stark against his skin as his mouth opens to release another low, loud moan. His hands fly to your hips, fingers making bruises on the flesh of your thighs.

“No one,” he echoes as if lost in pleasure.

Satisfied, you decide to reward him. Picking up your hips, you begin to move up and down, knowing that he’s on the verge of coming. You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside you, see the way his face is twisted.

He looks so pretty like this, all sweaty and fucked-out beneath you. Almost as pretty as when you dress him up.

You want to hear him moan again. So you bring your hips down particularly hard, the slapping echoing in your bedroom. But instead of a moan, you get a choked, “God, I love you.”

Your hips stutter in their rhythm, heart nearly stopping in your chest.

Even though you’ve been together for little more than a few months, he’s never told you that. To be fair, you haven’t told him that either. There have been a few times where it looked like he wanted to, and you can definitely recall almost blurting it out yourself, but something always stopped you both. Now, in the dark of your bedroom, there is nothing to stop either of you.

Those words make you feel fragile and invincible at the same time, the strangest combination. Heart picking back up, hips working, feeble hope builds in your chest.

“How much?” you ask.

“So, ah, much,” Hoseok grunts, finally opening his eyes. Dark, bottomless, they pierce you. “So fucking much.”

He means it.

“I love you too,” you confess, reaching down to brace your hands on his chest, give yourself more leverage. “So you should have no reason to worry, right? You don’t need to be jealous,” you say as your ass smacks his hips with soft slaps. “I’m all yours and you’re all mine. I want to hear you say that. Tell me, Hobi.”

“I’m all yours – fuck – and you’re all mine.”

The way he says it, voice rough with pleasure, makes you feel like you can come again.

“I don’t need anybody else, Hobi. Just you.” The words tumble out of your mouth. And though the sex is practically mind-numbing, you’re reminded of why, exactly, you’re bouncing on his dick in the first place. His hands start to help you move up and down, slamming you onto his cock, and you know he’s close. “Mm, that feels good.”

His face contorts at your voice. “Oh, god, I need to come. Can I come?”

Asking you for permission. Something about it turns you on – maybe it’s the power-play. But even though he asked nicely, you can’t let him just yet.

“No, not yet,” you pant. “Tell me one more time.”

You need to hear those words again.

“Fuck. All yours, all mine,” he snarls, voice cracking. “Fucking hell, I need to come. Please?” And he sounds so desperate, his hips beginning to thrust up to meet yours. His grip on your hips is so tight you know he can’t hold on much longer.

But still, not yet.

Now you’re swiveling down on his cock, hips moving in fast circles, and you can feel that second orgasm fast approaching. “That didn’t sound like you mean it.”

This time, it’s for him. He needs to hear those words.

With a frustrated growl, Hoseok gives in. “You don’t need anyone else. All you need is me. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He dissolves into muttered curses when you reward him by squeezing your vaginal muscles around him. “I’m all yours and you’re all mine and, fucking shit, I love you. Now please, can I come?” he all but whines.

Then, and only then, are you satisfied.

“You can come,” you say while your hand sneaks down to your clit. Hoseok obeys immediately, coming with a harsh shout, holding your hips still while he throbs inside you and spurts into the condom. Rubbing your clit in small circles, you grind down on his cock to draw out his pleasure. “That’s it, Hobi…”

You watch his face, how his mouth moves silently, how his brows are furrowed. You watch how he stares at his cock sheathed in your pussy, how he hisses at how good it feels. And you watch when he looks up at you, sweaty and exhausted and full of so many different emotions.

It’s enough to send you over the edge, squeezing him tight. You shake through your orgasm, voice coming out in short, breathy whines. And through it all, you hear his voice and feel his fingers touching your cheeks.

“I love you. God, I really love you.”

Collapsing forward, absolutely spent, you rest your head on Hoseok’s shoulder. “Apology definitely accepted,” you gasp.

You’re both sweaty and out of breath and neither of you want to move. You, in particular, feel like your thighs and abdomen are on fire. Even though it’s way too hot and sticky, both of you bask for a moment or two, taking in everything that just transpired. Mostly, those weighty words that you blurted in the heat of the moment.

Eventually, though, Hoseok nudges you to the side and slips out of you. You lay there while he stumbles to the bathroom to get rid of the condom.

When he comes back, you make room for him again and curl into him, your favorite place in the world. His arm folds around your waist. And though you’re completely exhausted and feel like you could sleep for a week, your mind is more awake than ever.

Hoseok brushes a hand over your damp hair. “What are you thinking about? Your forehead’s all wrinkled.” He presses against the lines to try and smooth them out.

“This is what I was afraid of,” you say quietly. “We brought work problems home with us. Thankfully we managed to work things out, but what about next time?”

“There won’t be a next time,” he says confidently.

“You can’t promise that.”

He sighs, knowing you’re right. “So what do we do?” He rubs your shoulder.

“What do you mean?” You look up at him.

“Well, we can’t just keep chugging along while knowing that, as things stand, our relationship probably won’t make it,” he murmurs and your heart tightens. You don’t even want to think about that, especially not after what the two of you shared tonight. Hoseok rubs your shoulder again, as if thinking the same thing. “There has to be something we can do.”

But truthfully, there isn’t much. Your options are limited. It’s not like Hoseok can up and quit, much less change anything about, his job. He’s at the peak of his career, following his childhood dream, and you could never even ask him to throw it away.

You, however…

You bite your lip. “Well… There might be something.” When he looks down at you in surprise, you say, “I could stop working as your stylist.”

Hoseok rears back in bed. “What? But you love your job,” he says, shocked, and the look on his face makes you want to kiss him. “You shouldn’t have to quit. No, let’s think of something else.”

The firm way he says it, his fierce frown, has you smiling. “No, I didn’t say quit. I meant maybe I could work as a stylist for another group or company. I would still be doing what I love, just not necessarily with you all the time.”

He blinks, a considering look on his face. Then his nose wrinkles. “Would you be okay with that?”

“It wouldn’t be that bad, actually,” you continue. “All my life, people have had to help me. I’ve never really been able to do anything completely on my own. My friend helped me get this job.” The complex fear that you’re not independent enough is one you’ve been burying for years, unwilling to face it. Now you have a good reason to. “But I want to do it on my own. Using my own strength and skills to find a job is something that I need to do. To be actually satisfied, I need to feel like I earned my position. Does that make sense?”

You hope it does. Because, you understand what you mean in your head. But when you say it aloud, you’re not sure if the meaning gets across and you don’t know how to phrase it any better.

His fingers stroke your shoulder lightly and he sighs. “When you put it like that. I just don’t want you to feel forced into doing this.”

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, actually,” you admit. “But even if I hadn’t been, I would still probably do it. Because I love you.”

And your relationship, however reluctant you were to begin it in the first place, is worth fighting for.

Hoseok melts in your arms, you can feel it. He pulls you into his chest for a tight hug, drops a kiss to the top of your head. “If this is what you want, then I’ll support you 100 percent,” he murmurs, sounding choked up. His lips move and you can feel his grin. “But only if you tell me that again.”

You smile, press your lips to his chest. He’s so easy to please.

“I love you,” you whisper. And then, with a cock of your brow and a curve of your lip, you say, “Oppa.”

Hoseok throws his head back into the pillows in a full-body laugh.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #hoseok scenario #jung hoseok #j hope #aaaaaa im really nervous about this chapter tbh #ive never tried my hand at femdom......#so pls be kind to me if i didnt exactly get it right pfff

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