#Tropical Paradise Journey | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sycamorelibrary754 · 2 months ago

Note

May I request, angst (tiny) with fluff with Yelena?

Reader & yelena have been struggling with trying to find time for one another, Yelena doing her think with tracking down the other widows to free them, reader constantly at the compound training, or training new members etc

& when Yelena has found & free’d the last widow, she books a vacation and is able to trick reader into “a mission” but it’s just Yelena whisking reader away to a cabin in the woods or snowy mountains for some time away from general life?

Up to you what you do with this ofc, feel free to add anything, remove anything. You’ve got total control & freedom 🥰 & up to you if reader is fem or gn! I don’t mind

Aloha 🌺

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lately, you and Yelena have faced an uphill battle trying to carve out quality time together. While she tirelessly hunts down the remaining widows to set them free, you find yourself at the compound, immersed in training recruits, the hours slipping away in a blur. But after Yelena’s relentless efforts culminate in rescuing the last widow, it’s time for a well-deserved break. The blonde set her sights on a surprise tropical getaway for the two of you, eager to whisk you away from the chaos and into the sun-soaked paradise you’ve been dreaming about.

Word Count: 5.6k

Genre: Fluff with light angst.

Warnings: None

A/N: This was so much fun to write!

You trudged into the compound kitchen after the third recruit training session of the day, looking for the Advil. When Maria suggested you take the lead on training the latest recruits, you didn't know they would give you such a headache. Rifling through the cupboards, you sighed as you came up empty.

“Looking for this, Agent Y/L/N?” Nat smirked, calling you by the title used by the recruits as she tossed you the bottle.

“Yes! Thank you,” you replied, catching it like a maraca. “I swear, if one more person calls me Agent Y/L/N today, I'm going to break their arm,” you grumbled as you downed a couple of pills with a glass of water.

“Recruit training going that well, huh?” She asked, a sly smile crossing her face as she poured herself a protein shake.

“They get an A for effort,” you replied, resting your chin in your hand.

“But,” Natasha raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story.

“But they’re incredibly slow and unprofessional,” you admitted with a sigh.

“They’ll come around eventually; give them time,” Natasha said, her tone reassuring. “They’re just a bit green.”

You couldn't help but smirk. “Yeah, and so was Bruce, but we don’t hold that against him,” you teased.

Natasha chuckled. “Touché. Speaking of coming around, I spoke with Yelena earlier,” she said, her expression shifting to something softer.

Your heart sank a little at her words. “She’s not coming home tonight, is she?” you asked, already knowing the answer but hoping for a different one.

Nat sighed, fingers threading through her vibrant red hair, glimmering faintly under the soft light. “This is our last widow,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration. “She’s vanished off the grid in Japan. It’s just going take Yelena longer than initially anticipated to track her down.”

You tapped your fingers against the counter in acknowledgment, your gaze drifting away from Natasha’s earnest eyes.

“Y/N…” she began softly, but you cut her off.

“Hey, that’s how things go,” you said, forcing a small, brave smile. “Thanks for letting me know, Nat.” Touching her shoulder as you moved past toward your room.

*^~^*

After a long and arduous week spent navigating the dense, mystical Yakushima forest in search of her widow, Yelena finally found a moment to reach out to you. With a heavy heart, she began her journey back to the bustling city of Tokyo, feeling the weight of the failed search.

Once she had returned to an area with cell service, she eagerly tapped your icon on her phone and listened intently as the line connected. However, her call ringing echoed in silence, drowned out by the chaos of recruits sparring nearby. Their shouts and the clashing sounds of training gear filled the air, preventing you from hearing her call. Frustrated, she watched the call go to voicemail, her heart sinking.

“Hey, baby. It’s me,” she began, her voice soft yet laced with longing as she shifted the phone from one ear to another, trying to block out the noise around her. “I miss you so much.” She took a moment, her thoughts lingering on you. “I hope the recruits aren’t driving you mad with their antics. I can’t believe I'm still not home and counting the days until I can see you again. I promise I’ll make this up to you somehow. I love you. Bye for now.”

“Good job today, everyone,” you announced as the training session wrapped up. “Just a quick reminder—our team-based combat simulations start tomorrow. Also, Ramirez and Williams, let’s focus on sharpening your accuracy with marksmanship next time. Keep up the good work. Dismissed!”

As the last recruit exited the gym, you caught your breath before reaching for your phone. With a slight furrow in your brow, you noticed Yelena's notification, and your heart ached in anticipation. Pressing play on the missed voicemail, you were immediately enveloped by the weight of her sorrowful tone. It was clear that Yelena felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility—a fierce conviction that she alone must be the one to liberate the widows now that the oppressive reign of Dreykov and the Red Room had crumbled away. With each passing moment, the urgency grew—she was down to the last of thousands of girls, and failure was not an option. You knew that Yelena would stop at nothing to find her. Yet, beneath her strong exterior, you recognized the isolation this pursuit inflicted upon her.

Frustration gnawed at you as you tried to reach Yelena again, only to be met with silence. “Damn it,” you muttered under your breath. In a moment of hope, you decided to fire off a text instead.

Y/N: Hey love, I’m sorry for missing your call. The recruits are a handful; it feels like herding cats, but we’re making some headway. I miss you more than words can say.

With a sigh, you tucked your phone into the back pocket of your tactical suit and headed back to your room. The evening loomed ahead, filled with recruit evaluations and the bittersweet company of the television.

*^~^*

Maria leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen against the desk as she looked at you expectantly. “So, if we stick to the current schedule, we should be able to kick off our final recruit evaluations by the 24th. What do you think, Y/N?”

You didn’t respond, caught in your thoughts, and Maria could feel the distance between you. With a gentle sigh, she set aside the training files and approached the front of her desk, concern etched on her face. “Y/N? Are you still with me?”

Startled, you blinked, realizing you’d zoned out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Maria’s gaze softened as she noticed the shadows lingering under your eyes and the weight of sadness on your face. “I know it’s been tough with Yelena away for so long,” she said softly.

You shifted uncomfortably, desperate to divert the conversation. “So, uh, is Cap planning to come watch training this week?”

“Y/N,” Maria said gently, “when did you last speak to her?”

A heavy sigh escaped your lips. “Honestly, I can’t even remember. It feels like we keep missing each other, just playing an endless game of phone tag.”

The brunette nodded, her mind sorting through her mental Rolodex of contacts. “I hope you get the chance to speak with her soon. In the meantime, I think we’re good to go for now. I’ll let you know when Steve is ready to deliver his infamous responsibility lecture,” she added, emphasizing the last words with playful air quotes.

As you stood up, a smirk crossed your face, reminiscing about the time you endured that lecture as a fresh recruit. “Does that talk still come with the same warning about bad language words?” you teased.

“Sadly, yes,” Maria replied with a resigned laugh.

“Maybe it’s time for a swear jar policy,” you suggested with a chuckle, imagining the overflowing jar as you headed out the door.

Maria waited until you closed the door and were out of earshot before making a move. “FRIDAY, get the Public Security Intelligence Agency of Japan on the line, please.”

*^~^*

Yelena pulled open the heavy stainless steel fridge door in the dimly lit safehouse, a familiar ritual that had begun to feel daunting. Despite Stark's wealth, the sparse shelves inside the fridge always surprised her. The cold air spilled into the room as she scanned the meager contents—scattered remnants of unappealing leftovers and a bottle of mustard. With a resigned sigh, she assembled a makeshift meal from the paltry offerings, knowing it would hardly rival a warm bowl of macaroni and cheese, but it would have to suffice for now.

As she settled into her dinner routine, a sharp knock echoed through the silence, sending a shiver down her spine. Instinctively, she set her fork aside and reached for her gun on the counter. Her dominant hand gripped the weapon firmly while her off hand steadied a small flashlight, its beam cutting through the shadows. She crouched, illuminating the floor to reveal dark silhouettes of feet lurking just outside the door.

Peering through the peephole, Yelena saw a Japanese military officer, his beard framing a serious expression. “Who is it?” she called out, her voice steady and commanding.

“Colonel Akira Matsumoto,” he replied, formal yet respectful.

With a cautious glance, Yelena lowered her weapon and slowly opened the door, her instincts still on high alert. Colonel Matsumoto performed a deep bow, a gesture of respect and peace.

Yet, years of training had taught her to be wary. “What do you want? Who sent you?” she pressed, her eyes narrowing.

“The Public Security Intelligence Agency was contacted by Agent Maria Hill,” he explained, his demeanor serious as he extended a file folder toward her. “She said you would need this.” With a crisp salute, he stepped back, his presence retreating into the shadows of the corridor.

Yelena hesitated momentarily, her gaze flickering between the officer’s retreating figure and the file now resting in her hands.

She glanced around the dimly lit hall before firmly shutting the door behind her, the soft click echoing in the stillness. She moved to the couch, its fabric cool against her skin as she sank into the cushions.

With a deep breath, she opened the file, letting its contents spill across the cluttered coffee table—a jumble of papers, photographs, and notes that painted a chaotic picture of her missing widow. Each page chronicled past encounters, recent sightings, and a promising lead about where she was headed. “What the hell?” She muttered, surprise washing over her.

A sudden ping from her burner phone shattered her thought, jarring her back to the present. She glanced at the screen, her heart heavy as she read the message.

Maria: Find your last widow and come home. Y/N needs you.

*^~^*

A few days later, you gathered the recruits early in the morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a warm glow across the sprawling grounds of the Avengers Compound. You noticed the mix of excitement and nervousness on their faces. With a rallying shout, you motioned for them to line up. After a quick warm-up to loosen their muscles, you led them at a brisk pace through the lush greenery surrounding the compound.

As you ran, you encouraged them to keep pace, pointing out various landmarks along the way—the state-of-the-art training facilities, the high-tech labs, and the impressive hangars where advanced equipment was stored. The fresh morning air filled your lungs; with each step, you felt the camaraderie building among the group. You could hear their footsteps thumping against the gravel path, the sound of determination echoing in the stillness of the morning.

As you rounded the south side of the complex, suddenly, the sharp sound of a grappling hook striking the concrete facade echoed through the grounds. From the rooftop above, a figure suddenly emerged—initially a blur, but soon recognizable by her striking short blonde hair. Your eyes widened in surprise. The recruits stumbled to a halt behind you. With a fluid leap, Yelena landed smoothly on the ground, her boots barely sounding on the compound's terrain. Her eyes lock onto you, and a hint of a smile plays on her lips.

"Welcome back," you said, trying to sound professional in front of the recruits despite your shockk and the desire to jump into her arms.

Yelena strode confidently towards you, her long coat billowing behind her. "It's good to be back," she replied, her voice low and smooth. "I see you're keeping busy.” As the blonde approached confidently, her sharp gaze swept over the recruits, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "So, this is the new lineup? How are they faring?"

With a mischievous grin, you responded, "You know the routine—if luck’s on our side, we might have a couple who rise to the occasion by the end of training."

You caught a fleeting glimpse of uncertainty in their eyes but then opted to lighten the mood. Glancing at your watch, you announced, “Alright, let’s hit pause for a moment. Everyone, take ten.”

As soon as the recruits disappeared from view, Yelena intertwined her fingers with yours. The cool touch of her rings sends a chill down your back. The distant sounds of training faded into a hush. She guided you behind a nearby lab. In an instant, Yelena pulled you close, her breath warm against your skin. Suddenly, your lips met hers, igniting a spark of hurried passion, as if the world around you had faded away, leaving only the two of you in that stolen moment.

Gasping for breath between heated kisses, you teased, “You realize you could have just used the front gate, right?”

“Ah, but where’s the thrill in that?” Yelena replied with a playful grin, pulling you closer.

“I take it you finally tracked down your last widow?” you inquired, curiosity peeked.

“I did, in the Shinjuku district. All thanks to Hill,” she replied before leaning in to place another tender kiss on your lips.

“Aww, what do we have here?” a voice sliced through the air, interrupting your moment with Yelena.

Both of you spun around, scanning the area for the source.

“Up here, ladies!” The voice called playfully.

You looked up to see Red Wing hovering before the two of you.

“Sam!” you exclaimed, a mix of surprise and exasperation coloring your tone. “What are you doing?”

“Just tracking down the source of that security breach,” Sam replied casually. “You know FRIDAY gives Tony the heads-up whenever something goes south with the compound’s security, right?”

Heat crept to your cheeks as you ran a hand down your face, caught between embarrassment and frustration.

“Cyka! Could we get some privacy, please?” Yelena shot back.

Sam chuckled, “If you were looking for privacy, I’d recommend a less theatrical entrance next time.”

Yelena grumbled, glancing impatiently at her watch. “I’m already late for the debriefing, and you’ve got a group of anxious recruits waiting for you. I’ll be in your room when you're done.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” you replied with a teasing smile and a lingering kiss.

“Ah, young love—so enchanting,” Sam's voice chirped through Red Wing.

You watched her leave, then turned your gaze back to the hovering drone. “I’m this close throwing a rock at that thing,” you muttered.

“His name is Red Wing,” Sam corrected. “And really, what sort of example would you be setting for the recruits?”

As you turned on your heel and walked away, a torrent of frustrated curses escaped your lips, barely audible yet simmering with exasperation.

*^~^*

By the time you wrapped up recruit training, completed their progress reports, met with Fury, and indulged in a refreshing shower, the world outside had slipped into darkness.

You softly pushed open the door to your bedroom. It was quiet, save for the soft sound of Yelena’s gentle breathing. She lay peacefully on your bed, her body nestled comfortably within the covers, lost in a deep sleep. You could see the exhaustion etched across her features; the jet lag alone would have been enough to bring anyone to their knees.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto the edge of the bed. As you turned to your side, the soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated her face, casting shadows that highlighted her delicate features. You reached out gently, brushing back a stray strand of her blonde hair that had fallen across her forehead, your fingers lingering just a moment to savor the softness. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, drifting into a peaceful slumber, content knowing Yelena was finally home and you could pick up where you left off.

*^~^*

Yelena made sure to move as quietly as a whisper when she slipped out of bed in the morning, careful not to wake you. The sheets were still warm where she had lain, and the night pressed heavily upon her eyelids, urging her to return to sleep. Yet, the blonde had something else in mind. Her feet padded softly on the floor as she reached Maria’s office, pausing momentarily before knocking gently on the door.

“Come in,” came her voice from within, steady and inviting.

Yelena peeked into the room, where the soft glow of a desk lamp illuminated Maria hunched over a stack of mission reports.

“Yelena, welcome back,” Maria said, setting the reports aside and offering a warm smile that softened her usually serious demeanor. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“First of all, I wanted to thank you for your help in locating the last widow. Without your contact, I’d still be lost in the Yakushima forest, trying to decipher tracks in the underbrush,” she replied earnestly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Maria responded, a slight smirk barely curling her lips. “Was there a second of all?”

“I want to do something special for Y/N,” Yelena said. With a flourish, she pulled out her phone, the screen illuminating her face as she displayed vibrant photos of the one place you had always dreamt of visiting—an exotic paradise that seemed worlds away. “Can you help me make this happen?”

“I think we can arrange that,” Maria replied, her tone turning serious yet excited, and Yelena felt a flicker of hope.

*^~^*

As the light crept through the curtains, you instinctively reached out for Yelena, seeking the comfort of her presence. Instead, your fingers brushed against cool, empty sheets. Blinking away the remnants of slumber, you propped yourself up on one elbow and glanced around the room, your heart sinking at the sight of the empty bed.

“FRIDAY, where’s Yelena?” you called out, your voice breaking the quiet.

“Ms. Belova is preparing breakfast in the kitchen,” FRIDAY replied.

As you stepped into the kitchen, the inviting aroma of scrambled eggs filled the air. There sat your girlfriend, still in her cozy pajamas, artfully arranging two plates on the table.

“Wow, what’s all this, love? I thought you’d be sleeping,” you said, pulling out your chair and sitting.

She flashed you a warm smile, kissing your cheek softly as she settled beside you. “I know, but I wanted to make up for lost time. Hot sauce?” she offered, holding up the bottle playfully.

“Absolutely,” you replied, grinning back at her. “This is nice. I can’t even remember the last time we had breakfast together.”

“November 15th,” she replied casually, effortlessly mixing hot sauce into her eggs. “You had a bagel with cream cheese and grape jelly while I had honeycomb cereal and avocado toast.”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You remember that?”

“Of course!” she said, her tone teasing, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As you finished breakfast, the compound came to life. Steve walked in, his cheeks flushed from his run, his shirt clinging to his muscular frame. Natasha, preparing to hit the road, emerged from her room with her motorcycle helmet in hand. The inviting scent of chocolate chip cookies filled the air as Wanda began baking, effortlessly moving around the kitchen. Tony burst in next, a whirlwind of enthusiasm, pouring himself a steaming cup of coffee and excitedly rambling about complex calculations you didn't understand.

“Well, so much for our quiet moment,” Yelena said, her voice barely cutting through the lively chaos swirling around you.

You sighed, glancing at her with a mix of disappointment and concern. When you were about to suggest that perhaps she’d like to slip back under the covers for a little longer before the chaos of recruit training began, FRIDAY’s voice pierced the air.

“I apologize for the interruption, but Agent Hill urgently requires the immediate presence of Ms. Belova and Ms. Y/L/N in the Quinjet hangar. This is a priority one alert,” the AI announced.

You groaned, “Oh, come on, she just got home!”

“It’s okay, malyshka,” Yelena replied, doing her best to comfort you. “I’ll meet you down there.”

You nodded with a heavy heart and went to your room to quickly change.

“What the hell is a priority one alert?” Tony blurted out the moment you left the room.

“Watch your language,” Steve scolded, shaking his head.

“Yeah, that’s not even a thing, sestra,” Natasha added, crossing her arms.

“It’s the thing FRIDAY says when you’re planning a surprise romantic getaway for your girlfriend. So zip it before you ruin the surprise!” Yelena shot back with a fierce whisper.

“Language, Belova,” Steve reiterated.

“Oh, shove it, Captain goody-two-shoes!” Yelena retorted.

“That's so sweet,” Wanda gushed, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Where are you two going?”

“That information is classified. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I need to get back to deceiving my significant other,” Yelena smirked, her smile mischievous as she slipped out.

*^~^*

You donned your suit, the familiar fabric hugging your form as you entered the elevator. As it descended to ground level, a lump formed in your throat. Being an Avenger was a privilege you cherished, and the thrill of fighting for good filled you with purpose, but today’s call to action felt incredibly unfair. You had waited so long to reconnect with Yelena. Instead, you were reminded that sometimes duty meant sacrifice. You reassured yourself that she would be right there with you, but this wasn’t quite the peaceful reunion you had in mind.

As you stepped into the expansive hangar, your footsteps echoed off the metal walls. To your surprise, Yelena was already there, conversing with Maria. The two paused mid-sentence as they noticed your approach.

Maria’s expression softened, “I’m really sorry. I know you've just reunited, and I tried to find someone else for this mission, but—”

Don't worry about it,” you cut in, shifting into work mode. “What do we have?”

“We got intel early this morning about a hidden, high-tech Hydra base on the Hawaiian island of Kauai,” Maria said, her fingers flying over her tablet.

Yelena’s brows furrowed, “Operational or deserted?”

Maria swiped through images of the island, revealing lush greenery that concealed secrets. “It’s hard to tell. The dense foliage could be hiding anything from advanced weaponry to high-ranking Hydra officials.”

“What’s the ultimate objective?” you asked, your mind racing through the possibilities.

“Reconnaissance first,” Maria explained, her tone focused. “Then we disrupt any illicit activities on the ground.”

You nodded, determination setting in. “I’ll prep the Quinjet.”

“Got it; I’ll be right behind you, Y/N,” Yelena said as you headed up the ramp.

Once you were aboard, Yelena turned back to Maria, a playful grin spreading across her face. “I have to say, I’m impressed. That was some top-notch acting.”

Maria smirked. “You flatter me,” she said, playfully placing a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “I cleared you two for the week, so just make sure you don’t waste it.”

“Oh, don't worry, we won’t,” Yelena replied with a cheeky wink before boarding the Quinjet.

The brunette let out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “You owe me one!” she shouted.

Yelena, undeterred, shot Maria a confident thumbs up. “We’re both doing a really good job!” she proclaimed, the aircraft’s engines roaring to life as you prepared for take-off.

A few minutes into the flight, you engaged the Quinjet’s autopilot, sinking back into the soft leather of your seat with a heavy sigh. You would never admit it, but Yelena wasn't the only one who was tired. Recruit training had exhausted you to no end. You closed your eyes, hoping for just a brief moment of respite. But, when you finally opened them again, Yelena was in the co-pilot seat beside you. Her fingers danced over the controls.

“What’s going on?” you murmured, still half-dreaming as your brain struggled to catch up.

“We’re prepared to land,” Yelena replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Already?” you exclaimed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with disbelief.

The blonde's laughter filled the cockpit like sunlight breaking through clouds. “It’s been four hours, detka.”

The shock of your delayed awareness hits you like a jolt of caffeine. “What?” you shouted, your heart racing. “Four hours?! Why didn't you wake me?”

Yelena turned to you, her expression playful yet sincere. “You were sleeping so soundly. I didn't want to interrupt,” she explained, her tone teasing but warm.

“Oh my God,” you groaned, exasperating, running a hand down your face. “I’m carrying our bags to the safe house. No arguments!”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Yelena replied with a knowing smile.

*^~^*

As the Quinjet touched down, you dashed toward the back, seizing the bags before Yelena could snag them. Sticking your tongue out at her in playful defiance.

The blonde chuckled at your bullishness. “Great, you’ve got the bags. Now, let’s get a move on,” she said, rolling her eyes affectionately.

With a soft whir, the ramp opened, revealing a breathtaking tapestry of Kauai's vibrant foliage bathed in dappled sunlight. The air was fragrant with tropical flowers, and a gentle breeze whispered through the leaves.

“Need a hand with those?” Yelena offered, squinting slightly as she observed how you juggled the bags while maneuvering down the ramp.

“Not a chance,” you declared confidently, your stubbornness radiating like a beacon.

“Upryamyy kak mul (stubborn as a mule),” Yelena murmured.

“What?” you asked, your brow furrowing in confusion.

She flashed you a playful smirk, the sunlight catching her features perfectly. “Oh, nothing, detka,” she said.

You walked what felt like miles—each step punctuated by the soft crunch of leaves and twigs beneath your feet—following Yelena through the dense Hawaiian jungle. Vines hung like twisted ropes from towering trees, and exotic birds flitted overhead, their calls echoing through the thick canopy.

After an eternity of navigating the seemingly endless green maze, you finally halted, letting the bags drop to the ground with a dramatic huff. You surveyed the landscape, each tree identical to the last, and turned to Yelena, “Are we lost?”

“No, trust me, the safe house is just a little farther this way,” Yelena insisted, striding confidently ahead.

You sighed and hoisted the bags back up, stacking them precariously. They were blocking your view, forcing you to stumble through the clearing, following the sound of Yelena’s voice.

“This way, Y/N! Come on!” came her cheerful call.

“I’m not a dog, you know,” you shot back sarcastically.

After a few more steps, you heard her say, “We’re here!”

“Finally,” you breathed, relief flooding you as you let the bags drop at your feet.

You had half-expected a rickety little shack, but what greeted you was a stunning retreat between the lush green mountains and the breathtaking valleys of Kauai's north shore. The place was nothing short of a modern Hawaiian estate.

“Woah,” you breathed, wide-eyed. “What is this?” Your gaze shifted between Yelena and the magnificent estate; disbelief etched on your face.

“This,” Yelena said, her hands gently framing your face, “is our vacation!”

“What?” Your mind whirled as you processed her words.

“Surprise, malyshka!” Yelena exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No mission? No Hydra base?” you asked, each word tinged with confusion as reality settled in.

��Now you’re catching on!” she teased, tapping your cheek playfully. “All a clever ruse I came up with. Pretty ingenious, if I do say so myself.”

“But Maria—” you started, feeling the weight of your responsibilities.

“Was in on it,” Yelena finished smoothly, a knowing look in her eyes.

“What about the recruits? I can’t just abandon them,” anxiety creeping into your voice.

“I’ve already taken care of everything,” Yelena reassured you. “Natasha agreed to cover for you this week, and you’ll be back in time for their final evaluations.”

You stared at her, processing the news. The tension slowly ebbed away as the enormity of her gesture sunk in. Then, without thinking, you threw your arms around her, pulling her close and kissing her softly, gratitude pouring from every corner of your heart.

“I'm assuming this means I did well?” Yelena asked a hopeful glint in her eyes.

“You nailed it, babe,” you replied, your voice wavering with emotion.

“Do you want to go inside?” the blonde asked, her hand reaching out invitingly for yours.

You nodded eagerly, slipping your hand into hers, a thrill of anticipation racing through you.

As you crossed the threshold, a warm, welcoming ambiance enveloped you, perfectly embodying the essence of aloha. The interior was a stunning blend of traditional Hawaiian charm, sleek modern aesthetics, and innovative technology—timeless and cutting-edge.

“Wow,” you breathed, taking in the surroundings. “This place is amazing! Whose is it?”

“This is one of Stark’s properties. We get to enjoy it for the next seven days,” Yelena replied, her voice bouncing off the beautifully crafted stone walls.

“Aww, that’s so thoughtful of Tony,” you remarked, genuinely touched.

Yelena rubbed the back of her neck, a small smile spreading across her face. “Yeah, he doesn’t actually know we’re here. Maria coordinated the whole thing, so I guess I owe her a favor—probably for life.”

“I can only imagine,” you laughed, moving toward the expansive window. “Oh my God! Look at this view!”

You gasped as you peered at the breathtaking, private beach just steps from the back door, the turquoise waves lapping gently at the shore.

“Hmmm, I have a feeling we’re going to spend some time out there tonight,” Yelena said thoughtfully, pulling you closer into her embrace.

You smiled, a warm sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. “I like the sound of that,” you replied, wrapping your arms around her neck. “But I have to ask… what made you do all this?”

Yelena took a moment, her gaze steady as she searched for the right words. “I was away for so long, and you never questioned why I had to leave. You never doubted my mission to find those girls or my commitment to us. You never lost faith in me. I love you, Y/N, and I want you to feel that in every moment we share.”

“I love you, too, Yelena,” you replied, gently caressing her cheek. “I always understood you wouldn’t rest until you found every last one of them, and I knew you’d always find your way back to me. I can’t tell you how proud I am of the incredible woman you are.”

Unshed tears glimmered in the blonde’s eyes as she absorbed your heartfelt words. “Okay, that was really good,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. She leaned in, her warmth enveloping you as her lips met yours in a sweet, tender kiss filled with unspoken promises.

*^~^*

You spent a blissful seven days with Yelena in your tropical Hawaiian paradise, enveloped by the breathtaking beauty of Kauai. Each day began with the sun rising over the ocean, casting golden hues across the sky, inspiring you to venture into the stunning natural landscape. You explored the island’s lush green trails, hiking through dense forests filled with chirping birds and rustling leaves, feeling invigorated by the fresh, salty air.

You spent adventurous days catching waves together as you surfed, the rush of the ocean exhilarating and bonding. You laughed and encouraged each other as you paddled out and rode the swells, the sun warming your skin and the surf splashing around you. You kayaked along peaceful coastlines, marveling at the stunning cliffs and vibrant marine life beneath the shimmering waters, feeling your connection deepen with each shared experience.

Yelena especially found joy in the spacious, state-of-the-art kitchen. Every day became a culinary adventure as you experimented with fresh local ingredients, creating dishes that satisfied your appetites and made you appreciate your time together even more. The adjacent dining area was a picture-perfect setting, boasting panoramic views of the surrounding mountains and valleys, and the colors of sunset painted a backdrop that made every meal feel special.

In the afternoons, you indulged in relaxation by the infinity-edge swimming pool, which seemed to blend seamlessly into the endless blue of the ocean. The soothing sounds of water surrounded you as you floated, enjoying each moment of tranquility. When the sun begins to set, you often unwind in the adjacent hot tub, soaking away the day's adventures while sharing stories and laughter.

Evenings turned into cozy movie nights in Tony’s high-tech theater and game room, where you made a ritual of watching classic films and trying to beat each other’s high scores on his collection of arcade games. The allure of competition fueled your playful banter.

When the week ended and you packed to return home, a bittersweet feeling washed over you. You both knew that this lavish escape was exactly what you needed amid the chaos of your lives as Avengers. It was a retreat that rejuvenated not just your bodies but also your spirits. You were confident that the challenges that awaited you back in the real world would be met with a newfound strength—a bolstered bond, a deeper understanding, and an enduring love that would make everything worthwhile. You couldn’t imagine life any other way.

As you took a final glance around the place, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on Yelena’s cheek, an amused smirk playing on your lips. “You realize you could have just told me about the vacation, right? Could have saved all this hassle?”

“Ah, but where’s the thrill in that?” Yelena teased with a playful wink.

#yelena boleva #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x female reader #maria hill #mcu #the avengers #light angst #fluff

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swifty-fox · 10 months ago

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scrunch and/or adore for the ways to kiss prompts? 👀

let's go with Scrunch! Have the Buckies seeing the ocean for the first time while stationed in Florida for training

A breeze ruffles Gale's hair, smelling of fish and salt. There's a tightness to his shoulders that says he's going to color beautifully and there's a pleasant sort of stinging headache flirting around his eyes from hot sun and not enough hydration.

It is his first time seeing the ocean, Bucky's too, sheltered midwestern boys that they were. He picks up a handful of pale sand, the granules more pale than any he'd seen at quarries or creekbeds. It trickles through his hand in a slow kinetic flood until there's nothing left but clinging scraps and a few bits of shell and plant matter sticking to his sweaty skin.

They'd arrived in Florida less than six hours ago, rumpled from the train and tired from the journey. They'd reported their arrival, dropped their scant few things in their bunks and, having nowhere to be until classes next day, Bucky had whined and wheeled and begged off a well-needed nap for them both.

Come on Buck, it's the ocean. You know, like a pond but a bit bigger?

I know what the ocean is, Bucky.

It had been hours now and while they'd made a good show of being official and composed on the walk down, the first glimmer of turquoise water had them shoving each other like boys and racing to be the first to dive into the spray. The bitterness shocked Gale, and the way it tasted just like the salt from the dinner table only richer and more earthy. Here and there brightly colored fish and irate crabs had darted about their feet and Gale and spent a good long while simply kneeling in the shallow water watching all the living things. John had swum out as far as he dared. Until he was little more than a speck in the waves and Gale's heart had pounded with sudden anxiety.

"Don't go out that far again." He'd told John like a scolding wife and the man had just grinned, curls plastered sodden to his head and dripping beautifully in the bright sunshine.

When they'd tired of splashing in the waves Gale had gone to stretch out in the sand and John had set about digging a hole to nowhere with single-minded determination. His broad shoulders were a brilliant shade of pink, flexing smoothly as he leaned down into his pit to scoop out another handful of rough sand, careful not to splatter Gale's dozing form.

"You know," John says, "the other oceans ain't gonna look like this one. All blue and warm and pretty white sand."

Gale cracks open an eye, "other ones?"

John gestures out to the expansive horizon line, blue on blue, "Europe. They got different oceans there."

"It's the same ocean. It's the Atlantic."

"Yeah but this is a tropical paradise, Buck. It's gonna be all cold and gloomy in England, not like this."

"Maybe you should have become a marine if you wanted to splash around in a tropical paradise, Miss Jones."

John pokes his tongue in his cheek at him, glancing around the empty beach before leaning over Gale with an arm on either side of his shoulders. "maybe I should have, could send you a pretty pin-up postcard of me for you to pin to your dash."

Gale gives him a long-suffering smile before tilting his head to look back out over the ocean horizon again. There was a whole world stretching on endlessly out there, and for a brief moment Gale feels very small and far less worldly than he'd like. A world and a war and more beaches than he could ever count.

"Do you think there's some German soldier out there now lying on a beach and seeing the ocean for the first time?" He instantly feels childish for the question but John doesn't laugh at him.

"Mmm, maybe." he leans down, nose bumping along Gale's cheekbone and then nuzzling against his, "Think there's no way he's as pretty as you, though."

Cheeks coloring, Gale shoves him away. John drags him with him and the two men wrestle in the sand, shoulders stinging and laughter turning breathless until Gale ends up perched on John's chest with a triumphant grin.

"You need to focus on your physically training more Soldier, you got twenty pounds on me."

John grins up at him, heartbreakingly young and Gale's stomach lurches as he realizes one day soon this man beneath him might die, "Maybe I just like having you on top."

#swiftywrites #clegan #john x gale #buck x bucky

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shirtlessanimeboy · 3 months ago

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Haru and his friends visit a tropical island paradise, from episode 8 of Last Period: The Journey to the End of the Despair.

#Last Period: The Journey to the End of the Despair #Last Period series #shirtless anime boys #The cameos from Zeks and Nero were just amazing - the final shot was easily the best part of the episode

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thebunnednun · 1 year ago

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Ahoy! U write about Shanks? Our sweet red-haired daddy? I just found out Shanks is younger than Katakuri I'm shocked

Dancing Under the Stars Red-Haired Shanks X Bar-Maid! Reader

Dear God, I have never written this man as love interest before, I am so sorry if he's outta character!

I hope you didn't mind the long wait! Stuff happens and then I just have to keep these in the chamber until I can post again. Okay, the red haired daddy of the pirates is gonna be a handful. Let's make him dance~ >:D

This was a request from my Follower Fridays! If you have a character or story in mind, go ahead and ask because my requests are open!

05/26/2024, a poll is open too for a community vote, so place your bet now before it closes!!

On with the show!~

______________________________________________________________

The sun set in a brilliant display of colors, casting a warm glow over the tropical island. The beach was bustling with life, and the sound of laughter mingled with the rhythm of the waves. Shanks and his crew had just docked and were making their way to the island’s most famous spot: [Name]'s Beach Bar.

The bar was a beacon of light and sound, drawing pirates and locals alike. Music filled the air, and the scent of tropical flowers and salty sea breeze created a perfect atmosphere for a night of fun. Shanks, with his trademark straw hat perched on his head, led his crew inside.

"Ahh," Shanks sighed, stopping at the doors before grinning. "This is the place."

Behind the bar, [Name] was mixing drinks with practiced ease, her smile lighting up the room. You were by far, Shanks favorite reason to stop at this island.

[Name] is a stunning vision of beachside beauty, with features that reflect the paradise that surrounds her.

Your skin is always warm to the touch from endless days spent under the tropical sun, giving you a radiant glow that seems to illuminate the room. Your eyes sparkle with mischief and warmth, hinting at the playful spirit that resides within.

Shanks found himself walking a bit faster towards the bar, Beckman on heels. For him, [Name]'s smile is her most captivating feature, brightening her face and drawing others to her like moths to a flame. Her lips are full and plush, often adorned with a glossy sheen that adds to their allure. With every movement, you radiates joy and positivity, infusing the room with her infectious energy.

In summary, [Name] is a vision of beachside beauty, with features that reflect the sun, sea, and sand that surround her. Her radiant smile and captivating presence make her the epitome of tropical allure, a true goddess of the shore.

Or that's what Shanks was going on and on about to the crew until he finally arrived at your station.

Inside, the bar was alive with activity. Patrons were dancing, laughing, and enjoying the warm night. Strings of fairy lights were hung from the palm trees, casting a soft, magical glow over the scene. Behind the bar, [Name] was mixing drinks with practiced ease, her smile lighting up the room. She looked up and spotted Shanks, her eyes twinkling with recognition.

"Well, if it isn't the famous Shanks!" she called out, waving him over.

"Welcome back to my bar!"

Shanks approached, his usual confidence slightly tempered by the lively atmosphere. "Thanks, [Name]. I've missed yo- this place."

"And I've you too," [Name] replied, leaning on the bar with a playful glint in her eye. "It's not every day a legendary pirate visits my humble establishment. Let's get you something to drink."

Shanks ordered a drink, and the two quickly fell into easy conversation. They exchanged stories of their adventures, [Name] recounting tales of her bar's colorful patrons and Shanks sharing snippets of his journeys. Shanks found himself captivated by her lively spirit and infectious laughter.

"So, tell me," [Name] said, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to one of Shanks' tales, "what brings you to this part of the Grand Line?"

Shanks shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Just looking for a good time, some good company. Seems like I came to the right place."

"You certainly did," [Name] replied with a wink. "We know how to have fun around here."

As the night wore on, the music shifted to a faster tempo. Couples began to pair off, moving to the dance floor. Shanks watched them, a flicker of unease crossing his face. He admired how effortlessly [Name] interacted with everyone, her energy drawing people in like a magnet.

"You know," [Name] said, catching his look, "dancing's a big part of the fun here. How about it, Shanks? Care to join me?"

Shanks hesitated, glancing at the dancers. "I'm not much of a dancer," he admitted, his voice uncharacteristically shy. "Especially with... well, you know." He gestured to his missing arm.

[Name] smiled warmly, her flirtatious nature coming through. "Who says you need two arms to dance? Come on, let's try something different. How about a square dance? It's more about having fun than anything else."

Before Shanks could protest, [Name] took his hand and led him to the dance floor. She signaled to the band, who started playing a lively tune. Shanks found himself in a group with [Name] and several other patrons, moving to the beat in a series of coordinated steps.

At first, Shanks stood with an uncharacteristic stiffness, his gaze shifting uncomfortably as he became acutely aware of his missing arm. But [Name]'s infectious laughter and encouragement gradually worked their magic on him. She moved with such effortless grace and joy that it was impossible not to be swept up in the moment.

"See?" [Name] exclaimed, spinning gracefully to the music's rhythm.

"You're doing great!"

A genuine laugh escaped Shanks' lips, his usual air of confidence returning. "This is actually fun! You're not too bad yourself, lass." He flashed her a crooked grin, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

In a bold move, [Name] playfully pinched his side and deftly removed his cloak, revealing the scarlet hue that tinged his cheeks. Leaning in closer, she whispered teasingly in his ear.

"I could say the same thing about you, Daddy.~"

Shanks flushed, a deeper shade of crimson than his hair, as [Name] giggled mischievously and twirled him around once more. Despite his initial reservations, he found himself enjoying the dance more than he had anticipated, grateful for [Name]'s playful spirit and her ability to make him feel at ease in his own skin.

As they danced, more people joined in, the dance floor becoming a sea of smiling faces and twirling bodies. The atmosphere was electric, everyone feeding off the collective energy and joy.

"You're a natural, Shanks," [Name] teased, giving him a playful wink. "I knew you had it in you."

Shanks grinned, a spark of his usual confidence returning. "Maybe I just needed the right partner."

Their laughter mingled with the music, creating a harmonious symphony. The energy on the dance floor was contagious, drawing even more patrons to join in the square dance from the beach.

Shanks and [Name] found themselves at the center of a growing circle of dancers, their movements becoming more synchronized with each beat.

"You know," Shanks said, catching his breath during a brief lull in the music, "I never thought I'd enjoy square dancing of all things."

"It's all about the company," [Name] replied with a smile. "And you're pretty good at keeping up."

The night continued with more laughter and dancing. At one point, the band transitioned into a slower, more romantic tune. [Name] took the opportunity to lead Shanks into a slower dance, her hand resting gently on his shoulder and chest while his arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

"You're full of surprises," Shanks murmured, looking down at [Name]. The soft lights reflected in her eyes, giving them an enchanting glow.

"So are you, Red-Haired Shanks," [Name] replied, her voice soft and playful. "I never would have guessed the great pirate captain would be shy about dancing."

Shanks chuckled, the sound low and warm. "You make it easy."

While the dance continued, the rest of the bar seemed to fade away. The connection between them grew stronger, the chemistry undeniable. Shanks felt a sense of ease and happiness that he hadn't experienced in a long time. For a moment, he allowed himself to forget the responsibilities and dangers of his life as a pirate and simply enjoy the present.

As the night at the beach bar continued, the energy remained high, with patrons laughing, dancing, and enjoying the lively atmosphere. At one point, the karaoke machine was brought out, and [Name] couldn't resist dragging Shanks up to the stage.

"Come on, Shanks, let's sing something together!" [Name] exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement.

Shanks hesitated, not used to being the center of attention in such a way, but he couldn't resist [Name]'s infectious enthusiasm. "Alright, why not?" he chuckled, taking the microphone from her.

Together, they sang a lively sea shanty, their voices blending surprisingly well. Shanks was pleasantly surprised at how much fun he was having, his initial self-consciousness fading away with each verse.

Meanwhile, Shanks' crew sat at a nearby table, watching the scene with amusement. Yasopp nudged Benn Beckman, a smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like the captain's found himself a duet partner."

Benn chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Who would've thought the great Red-Haired Shanks would be singing karaoke?"

Lucky Roo grinned, clapping along to the music. "They make a good pair, don't they? Maybe we should join in!"

Shanks and [Name] finished their song to applause and cheers from the crowd. Shanks couldn't help but smile at [Name], grateful for her infectious spirit and the way she had helped him let loose and have fun.

"That was amazing!" [Name] exclaimed, giving Shanks a playful nudge. "Who knew you had such a great singing voice?"

Shanks chuckled, a hint of color still lingering on his cheeks. "I suppose you bring out the best in me, lass."

As they made their way back to their table, Shanks' crew greeted them with cheers and applause, their earlier teasing replaced with admiration.

"You two were fantastic!" Yasopp called out, raising his glass in salute. "Who knew the captain was a karaoke star?"

Shanks laughed, feeling lighter and more carefree than he had in a long time. He was grateful for [Name]'s presence and the way she had helped him break out of his shell, if only for one memorable night on the beach.

By the end of the night, Shanks felt lighter than he had in years. As the music faded and the crowd began to disperse, he turned to [Name].

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

[Name] smiled, her eyes warm and inviting. "Anytime, Shanks. You're always welcome here."

As the stars twinkled overhead, Shanks and [Name] stood on the beach, the waves lapping at their feet. It was a night neither would soon forget, a reminder that even the most legendary pirates could find joy in the simplest of pleasures.

Shanks looked at [Name], a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I might just take you up on that offer."

[Name] laughed, the sound like music to Shanks' ears. "I'll hold you to it, Strawberry Shortcake. Next time, maybe we'll try a waltz."

"I look forward to it," Shanks replied, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

As they parted ways, Shanks couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected evening. He knew he'd be back to [Name]'s Beach Bar, not just for the music and the dancing, but for the company of the captivating woman who had helped him find his rhythm once again.

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Shanks being nervous about dancing was very much inspired by: @fanaticsnail and their story: Dancando Lambada it's freaking great and you all should go check it out!!

As a caribbean latina, I fucking loved that shit and it's so rare to see something of my culture make it to mainstream media.

In the words of Emily Rudd, "Shanks is a daddy!"

Make sure you check out the a03 account by the same name. I also have other daddy's of One piece posted in the masterlist! Give them a read if you please!

Be sure to leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don't be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

Also, don't be shy, send me your requests! I wanna write lots this weekend!

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

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ladybugtrait · 4 months ago

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Coconut reshade preset

Introducing “Coconut” Reshade Preset for The Sims 4

Transform your Sims 4 experience with the Coconut Reshade Preset! Designed to bring your game to life, this preset adds a tropical, vibrant, and dreamy aesthetic to your world, perfect for storytelling and enhancing your in-game visuals.

Features:

• Vibrant Colors: Bright, summery tones that make every scene pop.

• Smooth and Soft Lighting: Adds a warm, natural glow to your Sims and surroundings.

• Perfect for Screenshots: Showcase your Sims with clarity and style.

• Balanced Performance: Optimized to keep your gameplay smooth without compromising on beauty.

Why Choose Coconut?

Whether you’re exploring lush landscapes, creating stylish Sims, or building your dream home, this preset will highlight every detail with a soft, tropical vibe that immerses you in a paradise-like atmosphere.

This exclusive preset is available right here on Patreon for my amazing supporters. Your support helps me continue creating exciting content for the Sims community!

Thank you for joining me on this creative journey—happy Simming!

DOWNLOAD ✧˖*°࿐

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #create a sim #sims reshade #reshade #ts4 scenery

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pis3update · 1 year ago

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Obsidian Falls - Populated by Jreamwave

"Step into Obsidian Falls, a tropical paradise sculpted by future ambitions. Volcanoes and waterfalls weave a backdrop for settlers, tourists, and scientists exploring its natural wonders. Amidst a bustling downtown and upscale suburbs, the influence of capital megastride shapes the city, echoing wealth and ambition. Yet, beneath the surface, a cryptic undertone whispers of something more. What exactly is all this scientific research about? Is it just the flora and fauna that pique their interest, or is it something..... supernatural? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QErwMi7Oajw Originally conceived as a personal project, this world reached completion around 2014. However, in 2022, I embarked on a journey to revitalize and enhance it, working on it intermittently over time. Everything, except for most of the terrain and textures, underwent a complete overhaul. Today, what you see on the screen is the culmination of this passion project.

...continued + more pictures on MTS."

More Info + Download @MTS.

#Jreamwave #world #world save

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thetoaddaddy · 29 days ago

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Starter | @riyu-uzumaki

A soft sigh leaves him. Maybe it was the tropical weather. Maybe it was just the journey taking more out of him than he is used to, but he felt a little off. Just… a little on edge. He didn’t want to be a party pooper. Probably just needed to sleep off the travel and mild seasickness. They came to this island to be tourists and gamblers so that’s what they’ll do.

Of course he wasn’t much in the scene now, it didn’t exactly set a good example for the kids. And Riyu never showed much interest in it, so they probably won’t do much than hit a few slots for fun. The whole trip aside from the boat was basically comped and they have free rein to be menaces if they really want to. The king was a nice guy. Said something about owing Naruto.

So here they were. In a private cabana on a private part of the isle with a private beach. An employee just dropped off dinner. He set the containers out for them both to dig into, obviously something seemed to be on his mind but he wasn’t sure how to really put it. Instead he was picking at the fish and sipping some elaborate fruity drink. At least the sunset was beautiful. The warm orange glow was framed in the window right beside them, igniting the sea itself it looked like.

“How do you like it? Just two weeks of paradise.” He muses, his gaze locked on the scenic view. Yet as the sun set he felt more like jumping into the sea or running wild in the trees. A feral feeling he just couldn’t seem to shake. As if he were still a rambunctious boy still full of pent up wanderlust.

#riyu

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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months ago

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Friendcation: honeymoon special (m) | myg

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

You and Yoongi travel to Scandinavia for your honeymoon, well more like babymoon. You camp, fish, hike and enjoy nature as you always do, and you even go surfing!

→ Pairing: mechanic!Yoongi x reader (female) → AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, established relationship, mechanic!Yoongi. → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)→ Word count: 8.8k → Warnings (explicit): semi-public sex (in a caravan on a campsite), exhibitionism, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, multiple sex scenes, nudity, oral (female and male receiving), breast play (sucking, slight biting), hickeys, squirting, deepthroating, creampie, impregnation kink, dirty talk, pleasing kink → Author’s note: another extra for friendcation is here! 🥳 I hope you enjoy this one too! 💜 → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

navi: [s.masterlist] | [m.masterlist] | ← prev | next →

When Yoongi revealed that he had already booked your honeymoon, you envisioned a sun-soaked paradise where you could bask in the golden warmth, bathe in crystal-clear waters, and revel in the essence of summer. But instead of tropical shores, you found yourself in the rugged mountains of Norway, on the cusp of autumn, where nature whispered secrets in the crisp, cool air. Yoongi had chosen this destination, a place forever etched in his heart from a trip with friends many years ago. He longed to share its raw, breathtaking beauty with you, and as you stood there, surrounded by towering peaks and pristine wilderness, you had to admit—the splendor was undeniable. Majestic mountains embraced the horizon, and the forest teemed with life—graceful deer gliding silently among the trees, playful squirrels darting about in a dance of their own.

For nearly a week, you nestled in a quaint cottage deep within the mountains, cocooned in the serene tranquility of nature. Each day, the world seemed to slow down, allowing you to savor every moment in this hidden paradise. But now, a new adventure beckons as your journey takes you onward to Denmark, with the enchanting landscapes of Sweden to explore first. The anticipation of Swedish forests, mirrored lakes, and ancient woodlands fills you with a quiet excitement, promising more adventures and moments of serene beauty.

The weather is a delicate dance between warm sunlight and the early September chill, hinting at the approach of autumn. Your journey from Norway to Sweden unfolds by bus, and upon arrival, a picturesque walk from the bus stop to your next secluded cottage awaits. The lightness of your luggage, carefully packed with warm clothes, turns the trek into an enjoyable prelude to the days ahead. You silently thank Yoongi for the foresight to pack hiking boots, as the rugged terrain tests your endurance. But the challenge is worth it, as each evening is rewarded with the simple pleasure of curling up in Yoongi’s arms, his hands soothing your tired feet as the day’s adventures fade into the warmth of the firelight.

In the Swedish cabin, time flows effortlessly, unburdened by the outside world. Yoongi, ever the thoughtful partner, prepares mouthwatering meals with ingredients fresh from the surrounding land, and with patient hands, he teaches you the art of fishing—a skill that had always eluded you on previous vacations. His steady guidance, coupled with whispered advice to remain silent, keeps the fish from fleeing, and you manage to catch a few, only to release them back into their watery home with a sense of reverence. Days are spent hiking the rolling hills and dense forests, each return to the cabin marked by the comforting embrace of each other’s arms, the crackle of the fire, and the soft murmur of the wilderness outside. Time slips away like water through your fingers, and before you know it, you’re packing for the next chapter of your journey.

The bus carries you southward, where a train awaits to whisk you to Denmark. There, just outside Copenhagen, you rent a car and a charming caravan trailer, your home on wheels for the next leg of your adventure. Denmark’s landscape, while familiar to Sweden’s, carries its own unique charm—its language more rough, its fields more open, a reminder that every place, like every person, has its own distinct personality.

Both you and Yoongi present your driver’s licenses, receive the keys, and locate your vehicles with the excitement of a new journey just beginning. Yoongi takes the wheel, his hands confidently guiding you northward to a place called Thy, a region he had spoken of with a quiet reverence. The local radio station fills the car with the lively tunes of Danish pop music, and as the road unfolds before you, a bridge rises to meet the horizon. You recline into your seat, lulled by the soothing rhythm of the road beneath you, when Yoongi mentions needing a break. He spots a rest stop, effortlessly maneuvering into a spacious parking area, and for a moment, the world outside pauses, allowing you both to take a breath and savor the journey that lies ahead.

Yoongi quickly exits, making a beeline for the restrooms, while you step out, stretching your limbs with a quiet sigh. The late hour casts a golden glow, the sun hanging low on the horizon, bathing the world in a warm, amber light that feels like a fleeting embrace. Around you, the scene is tranquil yet alive—lush green trees stand as silent sentinels, large trucks and trailers rest like sleeping giants, and an array of cars glimmer under the fading daylight. Your gaze drifts to a small store nearby, and you consider the idea of grabbing a meal, but something else catches your attention. A group of young men huddles around a car with its hood propped open, their faces etched with worry, a silent image of distress. Though the intricacies of engines elude you, Yoongi’s knack for mechanics brings a knowing smile to your lips. Almost as if sensing the moment, he appears beside you, his hand finding yours with effortless grace.

You gesture toward the troubled vehicle, your voice soft yet tinged with curiosity. “Do you think we should ask if they need help?”

Yoongi clears his throat, a quiet confidence in his nod, always eager to lend a hand when cars are involved. Together, you approach the trio and their ailing car, a shared purpose drawing you forward.

“Do you need help?” Yoongi asks in English, his voice carrying a note of calm assurance. Two of the young men exchange giggles, their reason a mystery, but the one peering under the hood turns to Yoongi with relief plain in his eyes. “Yeah. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

“I’m a mechanic. I don’t mind taking a look,” Yoongi replies, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his veined forearms, a sight that sends a flutter through your chest. “Babe, can you grab me a flashlight?” he asks, his voice gentle, and you’re quick to comply, retrieving it from the rental car. As the sun sinks lower, each sliver of light becomes precious, a fleeting gift for Yoongi’s hands to work by.

With the flashlight in hand, you stand close, watching Yoongi immerse himself in the task, his focus as sharp and radiant as the golden hour surrounding you both. His expertise becomes a quiet melody in the twilight, a dance of hands and metal that feels almost sacred in its simplicity.

“I’m Jonas, by the way. Thanks for looking at the car,” the young man says, stepping away to rejoin his laughing friends, a moment of lightness amidst their concern. You watch him playfully slap one of them on the arm, the sound of laughter briefly filling the air before your attention returns to Yoongi. You adjust the flashlight, its beam following the precise movements of his hands as he examines the engine. Yoongi lets out those soft, endearing noises he makes when deeply engrossed in a task, a habit he likely doesn’t even realize he has, but one that always stirs something deep within you. This moment is no different. Watching him work with such intensity sends warmth through you, a reminder of why you cherish these shared moments, even in the most unexpected places.

Grease begins to smudge his hands as he delves deeper under the hood, reattaching a loose valve and checking fluid levels with the practiced ease of someone who has spent years mastering his craft. Over time, you’ve absorbed a few of his car maintenance tips, knowledge passed on in quiet moments like these. Yoongi steps back from the car, a signal for you to turn off the flashlight, and you comply as Jonas, his brows knit with lingering concern, approaches to hear Yoongi’s verdict.

“I reattached a loose valve,” Yoongi explains, his tone measured and thoughtful, “and you’re low on radiator fluid. Be cautious when you drive; the car could overheat. You should refill it as soon as possible. Do you live nearby? It’s risky to drive far in this condition.”

The young man nods, gratitude and relief mingling in his expression. And as you stand there, bathed in the fading light, you can’t help but feel a quiet satisfaction in the simple act of helping, of being there in that moment with Yoongi, where the beauty of the setting sun is matched only by the warmth of his presence beside you.

Jonas nods, a wave of relief washing over his face. “We live close—we’re almost home. I’ll drive carefully and contact my mechanic tomorrow,” he says, offering a grateful smile. Yet, as his friends snicker behind him, their eyes linger on you with a gaze that feels like a brush of unwelcome heat, as if you’re some forbidden temptation. “Thank you so much for your help,” Jonas adds, shaking Yoongi’s hand with a vigor that speaks to his gratitude, pulling him into a spontaneous hug.

Yoongi returns the gesture with warmth, clearly pleased to have made a difference. As he walks back to you, you notice him wiping his greasy hands together in a futile attempt to clean them, a small smile playing on your lips at the sight.

You greet him with a smoldering gaze, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, a kiss that holds both affection and a touch of mischief. Are you putting on a show for the boys who ogled you earlier? Absolutely. As you pull away, you lean into his ear, your voice a whisper in English, “You always look so damn hot when you’re working. I can’t wait for you to fuck me later.” Your words are barely audible, yet you catch the sound of one of the guys choking in surprise, a wicked smile curling your lips as you take Yoongi’s hand. With a playful wave to the three gaping men, you turn and saunter back to your rental car, feeling Yoongi’s hand squeeze your ass with a low chuckle.

“You’re such a good and dirty girl,” he murmurs, his words a spark that sends warmth pooling in your core. His praise, his touch, his very presence—everything about him ignites the fire within you.

Slipping back into the car, Yoongi starts the engine, the soft rumble beneath you a prelude to the journey ahead. The night deepens as you drive, the world outside dissolving into shadows and starlight, the road a ribbon of dark velvet stretching toward the unknown. Hours later, you arrive at a quiet camping ground nestled in the northern wilderness. Yoongi picks a spot at random, the exhaustion of the day evident in the slump of your bodies. He parks and turns off the car, the silence of the night settling around you like a blanket.

Yoongi sets to work preparing the caravan, a compact haven of white and beige. Inside, it holds a tiny kitchen with a sink, fridge, and portable stove, a dining area that converts into a bed, bunks that will remain untouched, and a small bathroom. As he transforms the dining space into a bed, you slip out of your clothes and into one of his shirts, the familiar scent of him comforting against your skin. Yoongi follows suit, and after brushing your teeth together, you both crawl into bed, the weight of the day melting away in the warmth of each other’s presence.

He spoons you, his body pressing close, and you feel the unmistakable hardness against your ass, a thrill of desire sparking within you. Unable to resist, you grind back into him, eliciting quick, needy sounds that only fuel your own arousal. You turn to capture his lips in a kiss, your voice breathless as you whisper how much you need him.

Without a word, he turns you over, his hands deftly pulling down your panties and sliding his own underwear aside. The moment he enters you, a sigh escapes your lips, the smooth glide of him filling you completely, a perfect fit that sends waves of pleasure rippling through you. He moves with a rhythm that drives you wild, each thrust deeper, more urgent, as his hand finds your clit, pushing you ever closer to the edge. The pleasure builds, coiling tight within you until it snaps, your climax washing over you in a wave of pure ecstasy. He follows soon after, his warm release filling you as he grunts against your neck, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder.

In the afterglow, he gently pulls your panties back up, his touch tender as you both settle into the bed, the night wrapping around you like a cocoon. Exhaustion pulls you under, and with the comforting weight of Yoongi beside you, you drift into a deep, contented sleep, the echoes of your shared passion lingering in the quiet night.

Morning breaks with the gentle chorus of birdsong and sunlight spilling into the caravan like liquid gold. You groan softly, stretching your limbs as Yoongi stirs beside you, his warmth anchoring you to the comfort of the moment. The new day whispers promises of fresh adventures, but for now, you linger in the serenity, savoring the feel of his body close to yours.

“Morning, babe,” he murmurs, his voice thick with the remnants of sleep, his hair tousled in a way that only adds to his effortless charm.

“Morning, Yoon,” you reply, your voice soft as you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, a gentle exchange of warmth before you rise to greet the day. The morning routine is simple and sweet—brushing teeth and hair, sharing a light breakfast—each small act grounding you in the shared rhythm of your lives.

Stepping outside, the landscape unfolds before you, vast and open, dotted with tufts of grass and stretches of sand. The air is brisk, carrying the salty tang of the sea and the constant, soothing lull of waves crashing against the distant shore. You inhale deeply, the cold, invigorating air filling your lungs as you take Yoongi’s hand, the two of you setting off to explore the campground, the natural beauty around you awakening with the first light of day. The world is still in its early stirrings, granting you a peaceful solitude, a shared quiet that feels almost sacred.

As you stroll, the calm is broken by the sight of an elderly couple walking past—naked. You exchange a startled glance with Yoongi, his expression mirroring your own surprise. The closer you draw to the beach, the more you realize that everyone around you is unabashedly bare, the air thick with a sense of freedom that feels, to you, both strange and out of place. Overdressed and bemused, you settle down on the sandy shore, leaning into Yoongi as you take in the unexpected scene.

“What is this place?” you murmur, half-amused, half-bewildered by the sight of naked bodies in every direction. Yoongi chuckles, pulling out his phone to solve the mystery. Moments later, his laughter bubbles up, contagious and bright.

“It’s a nudist campsite and beach,” he explains, his eyes sparkling with amusement as realization dawns on you. Laughter spills from your lips, a shared moment of levity in the midst of this peculiar discovery. There’s something admirable about the courage of those around you, their ease in embracing their natural state, even if it’s not a comfort you share. With a grin, you tell Yoongi that while you can appreciate their confidence, you’d much rather prefer a different campsite—one where the only naked body you see is his, perhaps later tonight.

The day unfolds in a series of light-hearted decisions and shared smiles. Later, you venture into the chilly embrace of the sea, donning your swimwear despite the nudist surroundings. The water is cold, biting against your skin, yet it awakens something within you—an invigorating contrast to the warmth of the morning, cleansing and bracing. Afterward, you drive into a nearby town for lunch, soaking in the lively atmosphere, the air filled with the hum of conversation and the sound of laughter. Hand in hand, you wander through quaint shops, not seeking anything in particular, but relishing the simple pleasure of being together.

The hours pass in a blend of humor and quiet adventure, each moment wrapped in the comfort of Yoongi’s presence. Together, you weave through the day, creating a tapestry of memories that feel destined to become cherished stories—reminders of the joy found in the unexpected, and the beauty of sharing life’s quirks with the one you love.

You return to the campsite, hitching the caravan back to the rental car, eager to find a new haven—a place where the landscape is as private as your desires. The drive is peaceful, the miles slipping away under a sky that deepens into twilight, leading you to a secluded campground far removed from the nudist site. As night falls, you settle into the quiet embrace of nature, the only witnesses to your evening the stars that begin to shimmer above.

Under a canopy of twinkling lights, you and Yoongi sit side by side on a pair of worn stools, warm cups of tea in hand. The night is cool, the air crisp, and the silence between you is companionable, filled with the unspoken understanding that comes from years of shared moments like this. The sky stretches out endlessly above, a vast canvas of dark velvet scattered with diamonds, and you both soak in its serene beauty, letting the tranquility of the moment wrap around you like a comforting blanket.

Later, you retreat to the warmth of your caravan, its small space transformed into a world of your own. Curled up in bed, you lean in for a kiss, the softness of his lips familiar yet always thrilling. Your fingers find the waistband of his boxers, and with a deliberate slowness, you peel them away, revealing his hard cock that you always crave. Your desire for him is insatiable, a fire that never dims, only burns hotter with each passing touch.

Wearing nothing beneath your nightshirt, your slick arousal greets him as you straddle his hips, a low moan escaping your lips as you grind down, the friction intoxicating. The rough texture of his pubic hair against your sensitive skin, the solid heat of his cock against your aching pussy—every sensation drives you wild, fueling the need that pulses through you.

Dripping with want, you wrap your hands around his thick dick, guiding him to your entrance, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you sink down onto him. The stretch is exquisite, your body accommodating him inch by inch until your ass meets his pelvis, the fullness making you gasp.

“Fuck, you’re always so big,” you pant, the words tumbling out as pleasure ripples through you, your head falling back in ecstasy.

His groan is guttural, raw, as his fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place. “You’re so fucking tight,” he growls, his breath hot against your skin, his need for you as urgent as yours for him. “Taking me so good, baby,” he rasps, already breathless, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

You hum in response, setting a steady rhythm as you begin to move, your hands splayed against his chest for balance. Leaning forward, you press kisses to his collarbones, his neck, your breath hitching as you whisper into his ear, “Get me pregnant, Yoon.”

You feel him twitch inside you, a reaction as instant as it is powerful, the mere idea pushing him closer to the edge. His grip tightens, possessive, and he begins to thrust up into you, his movements seeking control as he chases that intoxicating thought. His hips snap against yours with a newfound urgency, his pace relentless as he drives deeper, harder.

He holds you still as he pounds into your warm, wet heat, each thrust tearing a scream from your throat. You try to muffle your cries, aware of the thin caravan walls and the nearby campers, but the pleasure is overwhelming, consuming, and it’s impossible to stay quiet under his relentless onslaught.

Together, you find a rhythm, a perfect synchrony that sends you both hurtling toward the edge. He hits your g-spot with precision, over and over, until the coil in your stomach tightens to the point of breaking. With a choked cry, you unravel around him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves as your body releases a rush of liquid heat, soaking his cock as you convulse in his arms.

Panting, you cling to him, your body shuddering as he continues to move, his pace unyielding until you collapse against his chest, utterly spent. It’s more intimate like this, your bodies pressed close, and as you whisper filthy promises in his ear, nipping at his lobe, he comes inside you with a deep groan, filling you with his warmth as he grunts against your neck, his lips brushing your skin in lazy kisses.

You both gasp for breath, slick with sweat and the mingled scent of your lovemaking. He cleans you gently with a towel, his touch tender, before pulling you back into his arms. You drift off to sleep in his embrace, safe and sated, just as you love to.

The terrain here is gentler, the low elevations a welcome reprieve from the rugged mountains of Norway and Sweden. Your days have been spent in quiet contentment, the two of you fishing in the calm waters, the simplicity of the act bringing a sense of peace. Words aren’t needed in these moments, the silence speaking volumes as you sit side by side, casting lines and sharing smiles.

One day, you take a bus into Aarhus, the city buzzing with life on a cold Friday night. The decision to take public transport is an easy one—no need to worry about driving as you plan to indulge in the vibrant nightlife. The contrast between the quiet days spent in nature and the energy of the city is exhilarating, and you look forward to a night of laughter and exploration, knowing that whatever the evening holds, it will be another memory to cherish with Yoongi by your side.

You’re adorned in a flowing dress that sways with every step, its fabric catching the cool breeze of mid-September. Warm boots hug your feet, grounding you as you navigate the lively streets. Yoongi walks beside you, his own boots echoing softly against the cobblestones. He’s dressed in jeans, a fitted shirt, and a cozy jacket that accentuates his broad shoulders. You’re wrapped in a jacket too, its warmth a welcome shield against the evening chill that settles in like a whisper from autumn itself.

The streets pulse with life, alive with throngs of people—mostly the young and inebriated, their laughter loud and words slurred, their steps unsteady as they weave through the neon-lit night. You and Yoongi sip your drinks, savoring the night with a quiet restraint, the alcohol a gentle warmth rather than a dizzying rush. Neon signs bathe the street in a kaleidoscope of colors, each one calling out the names of bars and clubs, their music spilling into the air, a chaotic symphony of bass and beats.

You step into one of the clubs, but the moment you cross the threshold, the music hits you like a wave, overwhelming and disorienting. The crowd presses in, bodies moving in a fevered dance, leaving no room to breathe. You cringe as strangers brush against you, the invasion of your space unsettling. Yoongi’s discomfort mirrors your own, his eyes scanning the room with a protective edge.

Then, a rasping voice invades your ear, the breath hot and unwelcome. “Well, aren’t you a sweet thing,” the man sneers in English, his tone dripping with an arrogance that sends a shiver of unease down your spine. A hand suddenly grabs your ass, and you know instantly—it’s not Yoongi’s.

Anger flares in you, sharp and hot. With a swift, decisive motion, you swat the offending hand away, spinning to face the drunken stranger. His eyes are wide and unfocused, lost in a haze of alcohol. He leans in, but before he can get any closer, Yoongi steps between you, his presence a solid barrier, gently pushing the man back. The stranger grunts, his voice slurred and angry in a language you don’t understand.

Yoongi turns to you, concern etched in the lines of his face, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. You nod, signaling that you’re okay, but just as you turn to leave, a rough hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back.

Yoongi’s reaction is immediate, but you step in front of him, a surge of determination coursing through you. The stranger’s grip tightens, but you seize his jaw with your free hand, your fingers digging in with a strength born of irritation. You stare into his startled eyes, your voice low and laced with venom. “I don’t appreciate that,” you hiss, each word deliberate. “I’m happily married, and I don’t want you touching me.”

The force in your grip makes him wince, and he releases your wrist, his bravado crumbling as regret flickers across his face. “Fuck. I’m sorry,” he mumbles, the fight leaving him.

You push him back, asserting your anger one final time before turning away, not wasting another second on him. Grabbing Yoongi’s hand, you pull him toward the exit, the need to escape the stifling club overwhelming. Outside, the cold night air fills your lungs, sharp and cleansing, each breath forming small clouds in the chilly atmosphere. The tension begins to melt away, and you savor the fresh, crisp night, grateful for the comforting presence of Yoongi at your side, his warmth a constant reassurance.

“That was kinda hot,” he murmurs, his voice low as he presses his body against yours, the heat of him seeping into your skin. “The way you handled yourself in there, babe.” His lips brush the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine that have nothing to do with the cold.

“Thanks,” you reply, your voice still carrying the edge of disgust from the stranger’s touch. “But it was disgusting. His hands on my ass.”

Yoongi hums in sympathy, his grip on your hand tightening as if to ground you both. “I don’t like other people touching you like that,” he says, his voice filled with a protective anger. “I’m sorry that happened,” he says in a much softer voice, making sure you’re okay.

You chuckle softly, the sound carrying a hint of relief. “Yeah. I know you’re possessive, Yoon.”

“If we’d stayed there a moment longer, I would’ve decked him,” he huffs, the street lamps casting a warm, golden glow on the sidewalk as you walk.

“Oh, I know. But I don’t want you getting arrested in another country—or back home, for that matter,” you laugh lightly, the tension easing from your shoulders. “I had it under control. But thank you for having my back.” You lean in to kiss his cheek, the gesture soft and intimate, and just then, you arrive at the bus station.

The cold air bites at your skin, making you shiver as you wait. Relief washes over you as the bus finally arrives, its doors opening to reveal a sanctuary of warmth. You step inside, the chill of the night giving way to the cozy embrace of heated air. Settling into a seat, you lean against Yoongi’s shoulder, the comfort of his presence grounding you.

“Maybe we’re too old to drink and party,” you muse, your voice a soft murmur that mingles with the hum of the bus.

Yoongi’s laugh is like a melody, soothing and familiar, a sound that feels like home. “Maybe,” he agrees, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“You’re an old man now,” you quip, playfully squeezing his thigh, feeling the solid muscle beneath.

“Hey,” he retorts, mock indignation coloring his tone, “you’re not much younger than me.”

Laughter bubbles up between you, the shared humor easing the tensions of the night. It’s a moment of pure, unfiltered joy, the kind that lingers long after the sound fades.

Back at the caravan, the atmosphere shifts, the night thick with anticipation. A surge of power and desire courses through you, igniting a fire that demands to be quenched. Seizing Yoongi’s jaw with the same assertiveness you’d shown the stranger earlier, you back him against the wall. Your gaze locks onto his, a silent command that he’s all too eager to obey.

With a teasing smile, you lick his chin, tasting the salt of his skin. “I want you, Yoon,” you whisper, your voice a sultry purr that sends shivers down his spine.

His breath hitches, the sound rough and needy. His eyes, darkened with lust, never leave yours as you tighten your grip on his jaw. “I want your tongue on my clit,” you command, the words slipping from your lips like a sinful prayer.

He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

“Now,” you add, your voice brooking no argument.

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice. He drops to his knees with a reverence that makes your heart race, his hands sliding up your thighs to hike up your dress. The fabric pools around your waist as he tugs down your panties, his breath warm against your bare skin. You giggle in anticipation, the sound light and breathless.

He teases you first, a slow lick that sends sparks of pleasure through your body, followed by a gentle suck that makes you gasp. But then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he spins you around, your legs hitting the bed. You fall onto it with a soft thud, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. Yoongi chuckles darkly, crawling over you like a predator about to claim his prey.

He spreads your legs, the cool air brushing against your slick heat. And then he’s on you, his mouth finding your clit with a precision that makes your toes curl. His plush tongue licks and sucks, each movement sending you higher, closer to the edge. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you grind against his mouth, chasing the orgasm that looms just out of reach.

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you pant, your voice a breathless plea as pleasure builds within you, sharp and relentless.

He slurps, the sound obscene and utterly delicious. When you glance down, the sight of him between your legs—his face glistening with your arousal, his eyes alight with desire—undoes you completely. You come apart with a cry, your body trembling as the orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your grip tightens in his hair, holding him to you as he licks you through the aftershocks, his tongue slow and sensual.

When you finally signal it’s enough, he pulls back, his face shining with your essence, drops of it splattered across his cheeks and lips. He looks so fucking hot, and he’s yours—your husband, your love, your everything. The thought swells in your chest, your heart beating a wild rhythm of adoration.

“You’re so hot when you squirt on my face,” he says, his voice husky with satisfaction as he sticks out his tongue to lick at the drops he can reach. The sight makes your pussy flutter with renewed arousal.

“Fuck,” you moan, the need rising in you again. “I want to suck your dick so bad,” you groan, your voice laced with a desperate, aching need.

Yoongi chuckles, a low, rich sound as he stands and begins to undress completely. You watch him, your eyes drinking in every inch of his body, from the strength in his shoulders to the ridges of muscle that ripple under his skin. He’s a vision, raw and powerful, and the sight of him makes your mouth water.

With a look of pure desire, you drop to your knees before him. His hand finds your jaw, his thumb brushing across your cheek with a tenderness that contrasts with the heat in his eyes. “You look so beautiful. Always,” he murmurs, his voice filled with reverence.

His praise sends a thrill through you, your body responding to the way he worships you with his words and his touch. Humming in appreciation, you reach out to grasp his cock, your hand soft as it glides along his length. Precum beads at the tip, slicking your palm as you stroke him.

You stick your tongue out, gathering saliva before you engulf him in the warmth of your mouth. You suck him like a piece of candy, savoring the taste of him, focusing on the sensitive frenulum and the head of his cock.

His hands land on your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he grunts in need. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your mouth as you work him over with slow, deliberate movements.

You begin to hum, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure down his length. You love watching him unravel before you, his control slipping as you bring him closer and closer to the edge. His breaths come faster, his grip tightening in your hair as you take him deeper, your mouth a hot, wet haven that he never wants to leave.

“Babe,” he warns, his voice taut with anticipation, a delicious strain that sends shivers down your spine. He’s closer than you anticipated, but you don’t relent. You want to push him over the edge, to taste his release. He tries to pull you off, his hands trembling, but you bat them away with a determined swat, drawing him closer, deeper. Without intending to, you deepthroat him, and his resistance melts into a soft moan, his legs buckling beneath the weight of his pleasure.

You steady your breath, fighting your gag reflex as you close your eyes and do it again, taking him in as deep as you can, your throat tightening around him. Your free hand moves to his balls, feeling the tension there, the tightness that signals just how close he is. A deep, primal groan escapes you as you pull off with a wet pop, only to engulf him again, your pace quickening with purpose.

You can hear it in his voice, the way he moans your name, each syllable a testament to how close he is to unraveling. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the effort to hold back, but you don’t give him that luxury. You push him closer, until, with a broken cry of your name, he spills into your mouth, the warm, salty liquid hitting your tongue in waves.

You watch his face contort in pure ecstasy, every line and shadow a portrait of his pleasure. When he’s spent, you swallow with a satisfied hum, pressing a teasing kiss to the sensitive tip of his cock, making him shudder with the aftershocks of bliss.

Panting, he runs a hand through his tousled hair, still trying to catch his breath. “You know,” he says, his voice still thick with pleasure, “you’re never gonna get pregnant if I come in your mouth.”

You giggle, a light, airy sound that cuts through the lingering heat between you. “Maybe not,” you concede, “but I love this too, you know. And we should have fun while we try.” You glance down, watching as he slowly softens, your heart swelling with affection for him. Leaning up, you capture his lips in a hungry kiss, pulling him down onto the bed where you eventually drift off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other.

A few days later, a strange ache tugs at your stomach, a sensation that’s unfamiliar, different from the usual pangs of your period. You brush it aside, though, too excited about the day ahead. Today, you and Yoongi are going surfing in a place known as ‘Cold Hawaii’, a name that hints at both adventure and the chill that comes with it. Neither of you knows how to surf, but that’s part of the thrill. You’re determined to make the most of it.

You head to a surf shop called ‘West Wind’, the air bristling with the energy of the ocean and the people who live for it. The shop is alive with the scent of saltwater and waxed boards, the sound of wetsuits being zipped up, and the murmur of excited voices. You rent surfboards and wetsuits, changing in nearby stalls, and then you’re off to the sea, the brisk air nipping at your cheeks, but the excitement in your veins keeps you warm.

The beach is a hive of activity, surfers riding the waves with effortless grace, their movements fluid and synchronized with the rhythm of the sea. Your instructor, a local with a laid-back demeanor, walks you through the basics: how to balance, where to place your feet. He makes it seem so simple, so intuitive, but you know it’s anything but.

When the time comes, you lie chest-down on the board, the cold water lapping at your sides as you wait for the right wave. The instructor’s voice guides you, telling you when to paddle, when to pop up. But it’s harder than it looks. Your first few attempts are clumsy, your legs wobbling as you try to stand, only to topple back into the water with a splash. You can’t help but laugh, the sound bright and carefree, mingling with the roar of the waves.

Yoongi, with his natural grace, seems to get the hang of it quicker. You watch in admiration as he balances perfectly on the board, his posture steady, his movements controlled. But just as you think he’s got it, he loses his balance and tumbles into the water, disappearing beneath the surface for a moment before popping back up, his black hair plastered to his face, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

You burst out laughing at the sight, the sound of your mirth carrying over the waves. Even the instructor joins in, chuckling at Yoongi’s comical fall. “That was actually good,” he says encouragingly, his tone warm and supportive. “You should both try again.”

Yoongi moves with an effortless grace, a natural on the board, and you can’t help but scuff lightly, rolling your eyes as you watch him balance perfectly, riding the waves as if he were born to them. His ease draws the instructor’s attention more towards you, his voice a steady mantra in your ear, urging you to paddle, paddle, paddle as the wave swells behind you, to pop up and find your balance before the ocean has a chance to pull you under.

You give it your all, and for one brief, glorious moment, you actually manage to stand, your feet finding purchase on the slick surface of the board. But the victory is fleeting; your balance falters so quickly it feels like whiplash, and the next thing you know, you’re crashing into the water, its cold embrace hitting your face hard. Your palms scrape the sandy bottom, and you sputter, your mouth and nose filled with the sting of salty water. The instructor isn’t fazed in the least, his calm demeanor a testament to his experience, and you tell yourself it’s okay—this is so much harder than it looks.

But you’re determined, your resolve like the tide itself, unwavering and persistent. Again and again, you try, each fall more bruising than the last, the surfboard sometimes feeling like it has a vendetta against you. Yet every time you’re knocked down, you get back up, driven by the desire to conquer at least one wave. Yoongi’s big, beaming smile tells you he’s loving every minute of this, his joy infectious even as you struggle.

“Just try again,” the instructor encourages, his tone unwavering, and you do, despite the toll it’s taking on your body. Your muscles ache, sore from the relentless attempts, and a small part of you wonders how long you’ve been at this. Time feels fluid out here, with the waves as your only measure.

Thankfully, the leash tethering you to the board spares you the task of chasing it down after each tumble, a small mercy in the midst of the challenge. You huff out a breath, catching Yoongi’s comforting gaze, his look of support giving you the strength to try once more.

Lying chest down on the board, you let the water cradle you, feeling the swell of a wave approaching. You paddle with renewed determination, and as the wave lifts you, you pop up, finding your balance. This time, you manage to stand, your feet steady beneath you, and the sensation is nothing short of euphoric. A giddy laugh bubbles up from your chest as you ride the wave, a wide smile splitting your face. “Look! I’m doing it!”

And then, inevitably, you hit the water face-first. But when you surface, it’s with a laugh of pure, unbridled joy. You’ve done it. After countless attempts, after losing track of how many times you’ve tried, you finally rode the wave, if only for a moment. And when you see the pride shining in Yoongi’s eyes, your heart swells with a happiness that makes every fall worth it.

Later, after drying off, you treat yourselves to ice cream, savoring the sweet, cold treat as you sit on the beach, wrapped in your warm jackets. The air is crisp, but the warmth between you is enough to keep the chill at bay. You walk hand in hand back to the caravan, the soft crunch of sand beneath your boots, noticing how many other caravans dot the campground. It’s a bustling scene, alive with the laughter of children running and playing, their joy infectious.

As you watch them, your heart warms, and you can’t help but wonder what it will be like when you have kids of your own. The thought lingers, sweet and tender, like the promise of more beautiful moments to come.

“My feet are so sore, Yoon,” you lament, the weight of the day heavy in each step as you both drag your tired bodies back to the warmth of the caravan.

“Mine too,” he admits with a playful lilt in his voice. “How about we give each other a massage?” The suggestion, though innocent in words, carries a hint of something more, and you feel the familiar embers of desire flicker to life within you.

“Yes, please,” you breathe, your words a soft cloud in the crisp night air. The thought of your hands on him, of his hands on you, sends a thrill through your weary body. You can’t wait to get inside, to feel his touch, to see where this simple act of care will lead.

Once inside, you kick off your shoes with a sigh of relief, the warmth of the caravan wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. You share a quick bite, the soft glow of Yoongi’s phone casting shadows across your faces as something plays in the background, though neither of you pays much attention. It’s just a quiet moment, a pause before the real focus begins.

Settling onto the bed, you both sit up, peeling off your socks with a mix of anticipation and fatigue. The first touch of his hands on your feet makes you release a needy sound, the soreness easing under his skilled fingers. Yoongi lets out a similar groan as you knead the tension from his feet, and the shared intimacy sends a wave of warmth straight to your core.

“This has been a wonderful honeymoon, Yoon,” you murmur, your breath a little unsteady as your fingers dig into the arch of his foot.

He hums in response, pleased and content, his eyes closing briefly before he looks at you, love shining in his gaze. “I’m so happy to hear that. You thought we were going someplace exotic, didn’t you?” He chuckles, pulling his foot back for a moment, ticklish under your touch, but then quickly offers it again, craving the comfort of your hands.

“Yeah, I really did,” you admit, smiling at him. “But this has been so lovely. Thank you.” There’s a softness in your voice, a gratitude that comes from the heart.

“I love you,” you say, the words slipping out easily, a simple truth between you.

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice filled with warmth as he grabs your other foot. The touch of his calloused fingers on your tender skin draws a moan from your lips, your body responding instinctively to his care.

The atmosphere shifts, the once innocent massage now tinged with an undercurrent of desire. Your bodies are tired, but the need simmering between you is undeniable. His eyes darken with hunger as he watches you, and the heat in your core intensifies. Letting go of his foot, you crawl toward him, your lips seeking his in a deep, hungry kiss. Your tongues meet in a dance of passion, and your hands move with urgency, tugging at his clothes, helping him shed his shirt, his warmth pressing against you.

You make quick work of his pants, and he follows suit with yours, leaving you both in nothing but your underwear. The kiss deepens, your lips trailing down his body, tasting the salt of his skin. His hands move over you, and you tremble as he pulls your panties off, the cool air brushing against your wetness, sending shivers down your spine.

Yoongi discards his boxers, his arousal evident, and your body quivers with the need to feel him inside you. He pulls you close, removing your bra with practiced ease, your breasts spilling free. His gaze lingers, filled with lust and love, before he leans down, his lips closing around a nipple. The warmth of his mouth, the swirl of his tongue, sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making your back arch off the bed.

“Yoongi,” you pant, your voice thick with desire as he tends to your other breast, his hand teasing and pulling at your nipple, sending sparks of heat to your pussy.

Your chest heaves with each breath, your body alive under his touch, every nerve ending ignited. His mouth moves from one nipple to the other, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you tug at his hair, urging him closer, deeper.

“Fuck, Yoongi!” you cry out, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as he alternates between your breasts, his fingers and mouth working in tandem to push you over the edge. You could come just from this, and it wouldn’t be the first time. There’s no embarrassment, just raw desire.

“I’m—,” you moan as your orgasm hits you like a freight train, arching your back into his face as you come undone. Your back arches, your body trembling as you come undone beneath him, his name a breathless whisper on your lips as the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in the aftermath of bliss.

A sudden knock on the door steals the breath from your lungs, and you freeze, eyes wide with shock. The intimacy of the moment shatters like fragile glass, and Yoongi, just as startled, pulls away. Instinctively, you reach for him, not wanting the spell to break, your heart pounding like a wild drum in your chest.

But Yoongi, ever the calm in your storm, quickly grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. The distance between you feels like a chasm as he opens the door, while you remain on the bed, flushed and breathless, your chest heaving, still glistening with the remnants of his kiss.

“Hi,” comes the low murmur of a man’s voice, intruding into your world as Yoongi runs a hand through his tousled hair, trying to steady his breath.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” the man continues, his tone polite yet firm, “but could you keep it down? My kids are trying to sleep, and it’s getting a bit loud.”

Each word lands like a stone, sinking into the pit of your stomach as mortification blooms within you. The realization that your passion had spilled beyond the walls of your private sanctuary makes you wish the earth would swallow you whole.

“Shit. We’re so sorry,” Yoongi replies, his voice steady and apologetic as he bows slightly, the English words rolling off his tongue with ease. “We’ll be quieter. Sorry again.” With that, he closes the door, and the world narrows back down to just the two of you. For a moment, you just stare at each other, and the air feels thick with unspoken tension and embarrassment. Your breathing is still quick and you feel like you want to disappear, but Yoongi’s eyes ground you, and his soft smile lets you know it’s okay. The silence is stretching on, until Yoongi bursts out laughing, showing his perfect gums, which in turn makes you laugh too. Suddenly, you don’t feel so embarrassed, the laughter making way for the absurdity of the situation to dissipate a bit, and you just giggle, the atmosphere contagious.

He crosses the short distance to the bed, a smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “I’d suggest stuffing your mouth with my cock to keep you quiet,” he says, voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. You barely catch your breath as he adds, “But if you want to get pregnant this cycle, it needs to be in your vagina.”

His words set your heart racing anew, desire pooling hot and urgent within you. You stare at him, feeling the wetness between your thighs grow, your body responding to his every word.

“You’re ovulating, right?” he asks, his voice teasing, but there’s a serious edge to his gaze.

You blink, the realization dawning like a slow sunrise. The ache in your stomach—it all makes sense. “I think I am, yeah,” you murmur, your voice trembling with anticipation.

A devilish smile spreads across his face. “Well,” he clicks his tongue, his eyes darkening with intent, “then I’m going to fuck you, but you’ll have to be silent. There are people sleeping.”

You nod, breath hitching as the room seems to shrink around the two of you.

With a practiced ease, Yoongi discards the towel and returns to the bed, his presence overwhelming as he hovers over you, still hard and ready. He takes himself in hand, giving a few slow pumps before his fingers find your wetness. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with approval. “Bet I’ll slide right in.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a moan, knowing he’s right.

He aligns himself with your entrance, and with a smooth, unhurried thrust, he’s inside you, filling you completely. The pleasure is instant and intense, but you remember the man’s words, biting into Yoongi’s discarded shirt to stifle your cries.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Yoongi rasps, his voice strained with the effort of keeping quiet as he begins to move, his pace steady and deep. The sound of your bodies meeting, slick and needy, fills the small caravan, mingling with the quiet grunts and whispered breaths.

With strong hands, he grips your thighs, spreading them wide and lifting them onto his shoulders. His thrusts quicken, each one bringing you closer to the edge, his breath coming in harsh pants as he fights to keep his own volume down.

“This pussy,” he whispers, his voice reverent as he pulls one leg down to reach between your bodies. His fingers find your clit, already swollen and sensitive, and he circles it with expert precision. “It’s mine, and it’s so gorgeous.”

Your vision blurs, your body trembling as a new wave of pleasure builds deep inside. You mumble incoherently into the shirt, but it doesn’t matter—Yoongi knows you’re close, can feel it in the way your walls clench around him.

He keeps his rhythm steady, his fingers teasing your clit while his cock hits that perfect spot inside you. The tension coils tighter and tighter until, with a final, whispered plea of his name, you unravel completely, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body spasms, and you push the shirt out of your mouth, gasping for air as you whisper his name, the sound broken and desperate.

“Fuck, babe,” Yoongi groans, his pace faltering as he chases his own release. The way your body grips him, the way you moan his name—it’s too much. With a low growl, he thrusts deep one last time, his cock throbbing as he spills into you, warmth flooding your walls as he pants your name.

The world narrows to the feeling of him, the heat of his body pressed against yours as he collapses on top of you, both of you breathless and sated. You don’t mind the weight of him, your arms wrapping around his back as you press a tender kiss to his temple.

“I can’t wait to have a baby with you,” he whispers against your skin, his voice soft and filled with love.

“I can’t wait either,” you reply, your voice equally tender as you kiss him again, pouring all the love and gratitude you feel into that simple, sweet gesture.

→ Author’s endnote: I really hope you liked it! I have two more extras planned for this series and they’re coming soon! Please let me know in a comment, reblog or ask what you liked 💜 And please, remember it’s just fiction.

→ Series taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow

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