#a little celebration for my successful drive | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starryhyuck · 2 years ago

Text

pairing: ex!jaehyun x afab!reader

words: 9.2k+

summary: you left with jaehyun’s son three years ago. an opportunity arises that may push you together for better or for worse.

genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: penetrative sex, rough sex, public sex, daddy kink, pussy eating, cum eating, creampies, breeding kink, spanking, possessiveness, some yandere vibes

“Got yourself all dressed for dad?”

Your five-year-old son hums happily, thumbs looped through his backpack straps like he’s afraid it’s going to run away from him. You smile and comb your hands through his hair, slightly frightened by how fast he’s growing.

The knock on the door takes you out of your head before you can dwindle on how your son is slipping away from you. You smile at Jaehyun behind the door, who offers a tight-lipped one in return.

You kneel down once more and tap on your cheek. “Give me a kiss before you leave, sprout.”

Your son giggles before planting a messy kiss on your cheek, wrapping his tiny arms around your neck.

“Bye, mom! I love you!” He practically hops away from you in excitement, running into his dad’s arms with pure joy.

You nod politely at your ex, who wraps his arms around your son and holds him to his chest.

“Hey, little bear. Missed you,” Jaehyun laughs, kissing your son’s forehead.

“I missed you too, dad!”

You clear your throat. “Do you want me to come pick him up on Sunday?”

Jaehyun’s eyes return to you, cold and distant like they have been for the past three years. “I could drop him off, it’s no issue. I canceled all my meetings on Sunday.” You wonder if he’s trying to imply something, as if the time taken off means anything to you.

You brush it off. “Sounds good. Be good to your dad,” you give a final warning to your son, who does nothing but wave his hand in return.

You’re about to close the door until Jaehyun quietly speaks up. “I needed to ask you something.”

You ignore the loud sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You simply nod, urging him to continue. He clears his throat, feeling a bit awkward as your son impatiently waits for his dad to take him to his other house. It’s rare for Jaehyun to linger around like this.

“My parents — they’re having that annual anniversary party again in Seoul. They asked me to invite you.”

You’re surprised, to say the least. You haven’t been invited to an anniversary party since you and Jaehyun separated. His family was extremely heartbroken when you left and as a result, you haven’t communicated with them since. The anniversary party, however, was a huge celebration in the Jeong family. It was a mark of success since Jeong Corporation opened almost twenty years ago, and the company has now founded themselves as one of the largest in Seoul.

“Um,” you stutter, unsure of what to say. You understood what the anniversary party implied — one whole weekend with your former second family and more importantly, Jaehyun.

“Don’t- You don’t have to make a decision now. You can tell me on Sunday if you’re ready.”

You nod reluctantly, and he sends you another tight-lipped smile before departing. You watch as he and your son drive away, leaving a hole in your heart as they go.

—

“No way. He wants to fuck you again!”

“Johnny!” You scold, feeling extremely embarrassed already. “He is not! He’s just trying to be a good son, you know how he is.”

Johnny laughs sarcastically. “Yeah fucking right. Dude, it’s the Jeong anniversary party. That shit is photographed like crazy. He knows what he’s doing when he’s inviting you to go with him.”

“He’s not inviting me to go with him,” you clarify for him, even though Johnny is throwing you a side eye as you hand him a cup of warm tea. “He’s just inviting me to attend.”

He rolls his eyes. “Please. He’s been waiting for this moment with you for so long. Especially after you left him like that.”

You swing at Johnny’s arm, causing him to clutch it dramatically and hold the end of your kitchen counter as if you just shot him. You glare at him. Even though it was still a sore subject, he found a way to bring it into conversation from time to time since he thought it was the worst decision you had ever made.

It was three years ago when you left Jaehyun, taking your son and finding a new place all to yourselves. Jaehyun was shocked to say the least, heartbroken that the love of his life took his child and ran. It obviously wasn’t your first choice, but you spent too long waiting for him to come home only to be disappointed continuously. Jaehyun was just starting to become a big name within the company, wanting to work up the ladder and prove himself to his father and to the public. As a result, he spent most nights sleeping in his office and growing farther apart from you and your son. You reached a point where you couldn’t handle being abandoned any longer, leaving him and giving him his first wake-up call.

Jaehyun, like everyone else, thought you were only playing a game with him at first. No one believed you would actually separate from each other, especially because you two were so in love. However, you decided you needed to do what was right for your son. You couldn’t handle the lonely nights when your son would ask when his dad was coming home.

The custody agreement was simple, and Jaehyun agreed to whatever terms you laid out for him. You allowed your son to see Jaehyun every other weekend, and Jaehyun made sure to take work off whenever he had him. He was really trying, which you could see, but it wasn’t enough.

You’re not sure if it’ll ever be enough again.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” you mumble to Johnny, already mentally rejecting the idea of attending the Jeong anniversary party. “I mean, you know us. Our feelings get carried away all the time.”

Johnny frowns. “Are you saying you still have feelings for him?”

You sigh. Johnny has been your number one support system since you left Jaehyun, and despite his help towards adjusting you to a life as a single mother, he always rooted for the two of you to get back together.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you say clearly, stirring around the small spoon in your cup. You refuse to look up, knowing he can read you like an open book. “I’m just saying that being together for that long can cause cloudy judgment, you know? Plus, I don’t want anything to become confusing for all parties included.”

He shrugs, knowing you’re mainly talking about your son’s inability to understand why his mom and dad are suddenly spending time together. “I think the little sprout would like to have a weekend with both of his parents. He hasn’t had that since two birthdays ago.”

You recall your son’s third birthday party, which was the first festivity after the split. You awkwardly invited Jaehyun to come since you felt obligated, but it only resulted in tension while cutting the cake and opening presents.

“I know,” you whisper, feeling down. Your son asks you from time to time why his dad doesn’t stay when Jaehyun drops him off after a weekend together, and it always breaks your heart when you have to gently explain that his dad has work to attend to. Seeing the dejected look on your son’s face reminds you why you decided to leave in the first place. “But don’t you think it’s weird? Why would his family even want to see me again? I thought they hated me for leaving Jaehyun.”

“Yeah right,” Johnny laughs. “You saw the headlines after you guys split. Jaehyun started fighting so often with his parents. You know they loved you to death.”

“That might have been true before. I’m still the bitch who stomped all over their son’s heart and took their grandson away.”

“Hey,” Johnny scolds, hating when you speak lowly of yourself. “Anyone with eyes could see he was treating you miserably. It was completely fair for you to have temporary space.”

You ignore the fact that he implies the separation is still temporary.

“I’m just not sure, John. I don’t think it’s a smart idea.”

“Well, I think it’s a great one,” he smiles, brushing off your heated glare. “Listen, you can’t keep ignoring him like he’s the plague. If you don’t want the little sprout to have daddy issues when he’s older, you need to start getting along with Jae better. Just act civil, that’s all anyone’s asking of you.”

You chew on your bottom lip. “Will you come get me if I text you?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Your shoulders eventually slump in defeat, and Johnny throws his arms up in victory.

—

You’re extremely anxious when Sunday afternoon arrives, which is usually when Jaehyun comes by to bring your son back. You try to shake the nerves out and remind yourself to do what Johnny told you.

Just be civil. You can do that.

You nearly jump out of your socks when Jaehyun finally knocks on the door. You shakily open it, offering him a small smile as your son comes barging through. He attaches himself to your leg, grinning widely as he waves a new coloring book in his hand.

“Look what dad got me!”

“Wow,” you speak incredulously, kneeling down to give him a kiss. “That was very nice of him. Did you say thank you?”

“Yes!” He exclaims with glee. “Can I go color, please?”

You laugh. “Give your father a kiss goodbye first, sprout.”

Your son hurriedly kisses his father’s cheek when Jaehyun leans down, rushing off to his room afterwards.

You chuckle again. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”

Jaehyun hums. “Of course. He really wanted it, and I wanted to do something special for him.”

You nod and the conversation settles into unbearable silence. You start gathering the courage to accept Jaehyun’s invitation before you wimp out but he talks before you can get the chance.

“Listen, about what I said on Friday, you can forget about it if it makes you uncomfortable. I didn’t want you to feel obligated, I just knew if I didn’t pass along the message, I would get hit on sight.”

You smile, thinking about how dangerous his mother could be when her son disobeys. “No, it’s completely fine. I mean, if it’s still okay with you, I would like to go.”

His eyes light up in surprise, and it’s the first time Jaehyun’s let his guard down with you in a while.

“Really? I didn’t think you’d want to.”

You shrug. “I think it would be nice. I’m sure the little sprout would enjoy a weekend with both of his parents too.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, smiling genuinely. You forgot how much you missed seeing him so happy, dimples peeking out. “I know he would. He was talking about how excited he was today, getting dressed in a little suit and everything.”

Your heart warms at the thought of your son dressed so handsomely. “He would be adorable. Center of the party, I’m sure.”

“Of course. You know my mother never misses a chance to show him off,” he chuckles.

“Well, I look forward to seeing what they’re going to try and pull off this year. I’m assuming your mother is making it as lavish as possible,” you joke, knowing how elated his mother was when the Jeong Corporation finally gained enough funding to throw a large-scale party.

“You know it,” he agrees, eyes sparkling in the way they used to. “I could, um, I could give you more details if you’d like.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling slightly flushed. “Sure, that sounds nice.” You open the door wider for him, stepping back so he can come inside.

It’s the first time you’ve really invited Jaehyun in. He came once for your son’s birthday party and a few other times because your son really wanted to show Jaehyun some toys from his room, but never once fully initiated by you.

“Can I heat up some coffee or tea for you?” You ask politely.

“Coffee would be wonderful, thank you,” he says, following you to the kitchen.

He takes a seat on one of the kitchen stools — the same spot where Johnny told you that Jaehyun clearly wanted to fuck you again. You clear your throat, tossing the memory aside.

“So, is there a dress code for the party? Do I need to go out and get anything?” You question, starting to brew Jaehyun’s favorite blend. The both of you choose to ignore the fact that you still remember how to make his coffee just the way he likes it.

“They were endorsing a blue and white theme this year, but you don’t have to follow those rules, of course,” he assures you.

You shake your head, turning back to him and smiling. “I will one hundred percent abide by that dress code. You know how picky those businesspeople are.”

He chuckles to himself, fiddling with his fingers nervously. You wonder if he’s just as anxious as you are.

“Right, forgot about that. So I’ll come pick up you and the little bear Friday night?”

You nod. “That would be nice. Thanks, Jaehyun.”

“Of course,” he replies, thanking you when you hand him his coffee. “The party shouldn’t last for more than two to three hours on Saturday, but you know how my father gets with the speeches.”

“He’s just proud, that’s all. It’s not everyday a company you built from the ground turns so successful.”

He nods. “Every company comes with its sacrifices though.”

You swallow at him alluding to your separation. Luckily, you’re saved by your son, who comes running into the kitchen.

“Dad!” He exclaims happily. “You’re still here!”

Jaehyun laughs. “Just having a conversation with your mom, little bear. Did you color something already?”

Your son nods, already eager to showcase his coloring skills. Jaehyun situates him on his lap, listening as your son details the process of what colors he chose and what the monkey is doing exactly in the picture.

You grow fond at the sight, not seeing Jaehyun with your son like this in so long. You never doubted that Jaehyun loved him with his entire heart, you just always wished he made more time for the both of you.

“And who did you color this for, little bear?” Jaehyun asks softly, kissing his son’s temple.

“Mom, of course!” Your son says with certainty, and Jaehyun helps him rip the picture out of the book so he can hand it to you.

“Thank you so much, sprout. I’ll cherish it forever,” you promise, clutching the paper to your chest.

Your son has an affinity for coloring and drawing, and as a result, most of your fridge and walls were covered in his artwork.

“I’ll make one for you too, dad,” your son swears, wiggling out of Jaehyun’s arms until he’s back on the floor. The both of you watch him zoom off, warning him not to run too fast.

Jaehyun smiles. “I should get him those coloring books for adults. I feel like he would love them.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah right. He only enjoys these because they have animals in them. Give him a crazy pattern and he’ll give up coloring forever.”

He laughs before agreeing with you. A part of you missed this — the happy laughter and talks of your son with someone who also wanted the best for him.

“My mother’s set up a private cabin for us for the weekend,” he shares, avoiding your stare. “But I can always have the driver take you and the little bear back here if that makes you uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” you say, briefly surprised by the fact that Jaehyun’s mother set all of you together. You would think she wants you as far away from her son as possible.

Jaehyun takes your response badly, face twisting into a grimace. “It’s no problem. I’ll tell Doyoung that you would prefer coming back here instead of staying the weekend.”

“No!” You exclaim, flushing by how loud your voice rose. “I mean, I was just shocked your mother did that for us. I thought she didn’t like me anymore.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows shot up. “My mother? The same one that wanted to buy us an island when we told her about the pregnancy?”

You chuckle. “That was out of the kindness of her heart, Jaehyun.”

“Please,” he scoffs. He takes the coffee mug you hold out for him. “She loves you more than anything. Nothing between us would change that.”

You smile, ignoring the nerves slowly creeping up every inch of your body.

—

“Johnny, put that back!”

“Why? It’s sexy!”

You grab one of your throw pillows and chuck it at Johnny’s head. He dodges just in time, rolling his eyes and putting your lingerie back in your drawer.

“I’m just saying, you never know what’s going to happen. You’ll regret it later when you’re trying to fuck Jaehyun and you have nothing but granny panties.”

“I regret asking you to help me pack,” you sigh, trying your best to fit everything you need this weekend for you and your son in a small suitcase.

“I’m going to ignore that comment since I’m willingly giving up my Friday afternoon for you. When was the last time you went shopping?” He asks.

It actually takes you a minute to stop and think about your answer. Ever since your son was born, your wardrobe has mainly consisted of haphazard pajamas. The only time you really went out and purchased clothes is if you were attending one of Jaehyun’s fancy events.

“All of these clothes are way out of season! How have I not noticed this before?” Johnny complains, rifling through your drawers. “We need to go shopping.”

You groan. “It’s too late for that. Jaehyun is picking us up tonight!”

The doorbell rings and you sigh again, massaging your temples in an attempt to make the headache go away. Johnny takes pity on you and answers the front door himself. You hear hushed whispers before he comes back into your bedroom, a smile on his face as he carries a large box in his hands.

Your eyebrows furrow. “What’s that?”

“A special delivery from one Mr. Jeong Jaehyun,” Johnny replies, a smirk evident on his lips.

You’re still trying to recover from the shock of Jaehyun sending you anything before you realize Johnny’s ripping open the box. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning and you can’t help but lean over to see it too.

In the box is a beautiful, satin white dress that looks like a red wine lover’s worst nightmare. However, you can barely focus on the color when you can recognize exactly where this dress is from.

“Dude,” Johnny says in a small voice, sounding breathless. “It’s your wedding dress.”

And if this wasn’t your wedding dress — it sure as hell looked a lot like it. You remember the day you picked it out, insisting on going for a modern style instead of a princess ball gown. It was a simple, off-shoulder, stark white dress that you envisioned yourself wearing while walking down the aisle to Jaehyun.

And three years ago, you cried when you donated it to a local thrift store, refusing to continue to store memories of what could’ve been in the back of your closet.

You thought you would never see it again.

“He said the theme was blue and white, right?”

Johnny brings you out of your train of thought. You cough, avoiding his questioning gaze.

“Yeah.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

You narrow your eyes at his suggestive tone. He shrugs.

“I think you’re going to have an interesting trip.”

—

“Hi, dad!”

“Hi, little bear!”

Your heart melts at the sight of Jaehyun and your son together. Jaehyun’s all smiles while he straps your son into his carseat, dimples peeking out. Once he’s settled, he turns to you as he shuts the car door. You awkwardly step around each other as he helps you with your bags and you slip into the front seat.

The drive to the cabin you’ll be staying at for the weekend is about an hour from your place, which means you have two choices — you could pretend to sleep and avoid speaking to Jaehyun altogether, or you could bite the bullet and make as much small talk as you possibly can.

Jaehyun makes the decision for you.

“So how’s work?”

You muster a smile. “It’s alright. I think I’m going to get promoted soon.”

He laughs. “It’s about time. I’ve never seen anyone else at that company work harder than you.”

You stutter at the compliment. You always forget how charming Jaehyun is, and how easy it is for him to make you feel like a teenager all over again.

You can’t hold back your next question. “Where did you find it? The dress?”

His fingers tighten on the wheel.

“It’s just a dupe I found online.”

But the response sounds too rehearsed. Too practiced. It’s almost like he had been preparing himself for when you would inquire about it.

“Jaehyun,” you whisper, and he knows you can tell that he’s lying.

He sighs, looking through the rearview mirror to check if your son has already drifted off before proceeding. “When you donated it, Doyoung found out and I asked him to buy it back. I know it’s your dream dress, and it’s my fault you never got to wear it. I just wanted you to have a night where you could finally show it off.”

You don’t know why, but you feel tears welling up in your eyes. The idea that Jaehyun kept your dress for you all these years tugged at your heartstrings. If the dress was a reminder to you of your failed relationship, you can’t imagine what he felt when he came across it in his own home every single day.

You turn your head to look out the window so he wouldn’t see your crushed expression.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I did. You deserve at least that, and so much more. For now, unfortunately, this is all I can give you.”

The two of you remain silent for the rest of the trip and you’re relieved when he pulls into the cabin’s driveway. You both fall into a familiar pattern as you get out to grab your son and he heads to the trunk to take out your luggage. You’re careful to unbuckle your son from his carseat in fear of waking him, and you relax when he’s in your arms, still sound asleep.

Jaehyun opens the front door and you marvel at the beauty of the cabin once you’re inside. You’re not surprised in the slightest that Jaehyun’s mother hooked you up with an extremely lavish place for the weekend.

“Upstairs, first door to the right,” Jaehyun whispers, and you realize he’s telling you where your son will be sleeping.

After you’ve tucked him in and made sure he’s out for the night, you tiptoe back downstairs.

Jaehyun looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, fumbling around with the television remote, pacing in front of the entertainment dock.

“So, um, what room will I be in?”

“Oh yeah,” he says uncomfortably, quickly grabbing your luggage. “Let me show you.”

He leads you down a hallway off from the living room, opening one of the many doors and setting your stuff inside.

“Here’s your room. I, um, I’m just across the hall. There’s also another room upstairs if you want to sleep closer to the little bear but it’s a lot smaller and doesn’t have a connecting bathroom so I figured-“

“This is great, Jaehyun. Thank you.”

He clears his throat and nods, quickly shuffling out of the room. He pauses in the entryway as he’s closing the door, something clearly lingering on his mind.

“You don’t have to wear the dress tomorrow, it was inconsiderate of me to assume you would want to. I’ll have Doyoung pick up something different in the morning for you to wear.”

Before you could protest, the door shuts. You sigh and run your hands down your face.

This was going to be a long weekend.

—

You and Jaehyun barely exchange any words the next day.

As promised, a new, navy blue dress hangs outside your door when you wake up. You fail to confront Jaehyun about it since he spends most of the morning playing with your son at a nearby creek. In all honesty, you want to wear your wedding dress. On the outside, it wasn’t too flashy since you refused to add a train or any embellishments, and it was perfect for a formal event like the anniversary party. On the inside, everything Jaehyun said yesterday was correct — this was your dream dress, and you wanted to just have this one occasion to finally show it off.

You call Johnny before Jaehyun and your son return, and he happily picks up on the second ring.

“Got fucked yet?”

“You’re despicable.”

Johnny’s joyous laughter is grating to your ears.

“It’s so awkward, Johnny. We had this weird conversation about the dress so he had Doyoung get me a new one, but I actually really want to wear my wedding dress. Is that crazy?”

“Nope,” he replies, popping the last syllable for emphasis. “I think you’re just afraid of what wearing the dress means for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

He clicks his tongue, and you can picture him shaking his head at your alleged stupidity. “Think about it. The last time you wore this dress, you were engaged and about to marry the love of your life. Don’t you think wearing it again is going to spark up any old feelings?”

You ponder over the idea for a moment before shaking your head. Johnny was wrong — you just wanted to wear this dress because you liked it. You convince yourself there are no lingering feelings you should be worrying about.

“You’re full of shit.”

“Uh huh. We’ll see about that.”

However, later that night when you slip into the dress, you understand exactly what Johnny was talking about. You used to have vision boards of this dress plastered on your living room walls, picking what flowers and color scheme you wanted to compliment it. You remember Johnny even photoshopping you in this dress next to Jaehyun in his suit, the both of you standing in front of what was supposed to be your dream venue.

The memories come back to you like a tidal wave. Jaehyun planning the perfect dinner for the two of you when you were six months pregnant. Jaehyun proposing to you that night, tears in his eyes as he confessed how much he loved you. Welcoming your son into the world three months later. Trying on the dress again after his birth, worrying your body would look too different. Jaehyun getting the dress re-tailored for you when your insecurities started to affect your daily life. Your son crying night after night while his father stayed late working in his office. Postponing the wedding every year because Jaehyun was too busy. Shoving the dress in the back of your closet because you couldn’t stand to see it any longer. Finally getting the courage to pack up your things and leave, taking the dress with you. Giving it away when you felt like you needed to close this chapter of your life. The chapter where Jaehyun was supposed to be your eternal love.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until the door creaks open.

“Mom, why are you sad?”

You immediately straighten yourself and wipe away your tears, turning to see your son at the door with his head tilted in concern. You laugh when you see his suit is half buttoned.

“I’m not sad, little sprout,” you smile, walking over to him and scooping him in your arms. “I’m so excited for tonight! Look at my handsome boy!”

He giggles when you press kisses to his cheek.

“Mom,” he whines. “Help me!”

You keep your smile on as you help him fix his suit, and you hear the door creak open again when you’re on the last button.

If Jaehyun notices the redness in your eyes, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Little bear, why don’t you finish your dinner before we head out? Don’t want you getting hungry.”

Your son obediently follows Jaehyun’s orders once you’re finished buttoning his suit, running to the kitchen to eat his meal.

You walk back to the full length mirror in the corner of the room in an attempt to make yourself look as presentable as possible. You can feel his eyes on you, burning a hole in your back.

“You look beautiful.”

You falter, fingers shakily trying to put your earring on. “Thank you.”

“I thought you wanted to wear a different dress.”

“No, I actually want to wear this one.”

“Oh, okay.” A pause. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jaehyun. Can you make sure Doyoung has coloring books and crayons in the car? In case the little sprout gets bored.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” he nods, and you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

He doesn’t say anything else but you know he’s worried about you. He purses his lips before closing the door, and you sigh in relief when you hear his footsteps fade away.

—

“Nice to see you again.”

You grin as you envelope Doyoung in a hug. The last time you saw Jaehyun’s assistant was almost three years ago at the last anniversary party you attended. Doyoung had always been a very loyal right-hand man to Jaehyun, and he used to be one of the constants in your life.

“You look gorgeous,” he compliments, his bunny teeth peeking out.

You thank him and he helps you and your son climb into the car, Jaehyun following after. Doyoung takes the driver’s seat and rolls up the partition so you can have some privacy. You wish he would do the opposite and make small talk with you, especially since you could cut the tension between you and Jaehyun with a knife.

Your son is seated between the two of you and he plays a helpful role in the awkward atmosphere. He starts asking Jaehyun questions about the party and who will be there, which Jaehyun answers patiently as your son bombards him with question after question.

You start fiddling with the fabric of your dress, the satin slipping between your fingers. When you look up, you see Jaehyun’s eyes locked on you, and it makes you wonder how differently this picture would have looked years ago.

This car would’ve been driving to your wedding venue with your son as the ring bearer. You would be leaning over to capture every moment of Jaehyun’s lips before you would have to kiss in front of hundreds of guests, a thought that always rattled you. You would have a bouquet of daisies bunched up in your hand, similar to the ones Jaehyun gave you on your first date. You would be scared of your veil tearing, trying your best to make sure your son didn’t accidentally rip it. All while Jaehyun stares at you like you hold the world in your hands, his fingers interlacing with yours to assure you everything would be okay.

You imagine he’s thinking the same as you if the longing in his eyes is anything to go by. But then the car hits a speed bump, forcing you to break eye contact. He returns to answering your son’s questions and you start playing with your dress again.

When you finally arrive at the Jeong Corporation building, you’re immediately greeted by your former mother-in-law.

She wraps you in her arms as soon as you step out of the car, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say she’s trying to strangle you by the sheer force of her strength.

“My favorite daughter!”

You flush at the greeting, remembering it was her favorite nickname for you. You catch Jaehyun carrying your son from the corner of your eye, his ears blooming red from embarrassment.

“Hi, Mrs. Jeong,” you reply, reciprocating her embrace.

She releases you to step back and take a look at your form. She looks exactly the same as she did three years ago, and you feel her manicured hand stroke your cheek.

“Look at you. Still so beautiful.”

You smile, slowly feeling your nerves dissipate. Maybe Johnny was right — maybe Jaehyun’s family didn’t actually hate you, they just missed you.

Her gaze flickers to her grandson, and she coos at him as she takes him from Jaehyun.

“And here’s my strong tiger! So handsome tonight!”

“Grandma!” Your son exclaims happily, chubby hands wrapping around her neck.

She gestures for you and Jaehyun to follow her inside the building as she begins walking. You share a glance with him before coming to a silent agreement, looping your arm through his in an attempt to show solidarity. You ignore the ache in your feet and the thumping of your heart, keeping your eyes trained on Jaehyun’s mom animatedly speaking to your son. She guides you to the conference room on the main floor, where the party is being held.

She turns to you once you’re at the entrance. “I’m going to take him to meet Yoojin, she’s been begging to meet my grandson. And don’t you two worry, I’ll take him back with us when the party’s over. He needs to spend some quality time with his grandparents! Have a fun night together!”

And before you can protest, she’s disappeared into the crowd, taking your son along for the ride.

Jaehyun curses. “I’m sorry. Let me catch her and let her know we want him to come back to the cabin with us.”

You stop him with a firm tug on his arm. He stares at you in confusion.

“It’s okay, let her take him. She’s right — he hasn’t had quality time with his grandparents for a while.”

He slowly nods and slips his arm back through yours. You both don’t know where to begin for the night now that your conversation helper is gone. The first stop you choose is the open bar while Jaehyun starts his formal thank you parade around the floor. You’re waiting for your drink when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You turn to see Seulgi, who is practically beaming at you.

“I was wondering if it was you!” She giggles and hugs you tightly.

Seulgi worked as head of marketing for Jeong Corporation, and you used to chat with her quite a lot whenever you visited Jaehyun in the office.

“I can’t believe you’re here, I haven’t seen you in forever,” she hums, sitting on the barstool next to you. She tells the bartender her order before focusing back on you. “How have you been?”

“I’m good,” you chuckle, a little floored by her presence. You forgot that attending this party meant you would also be running into all of Jaehyun’s colleagues that you used to be friendly with. “How have you been?”

She huffs. “Swamped with work, but this party is always a nice change of pace. Did you come with Jaehyun?”

You also remember how Seulgi doesn’t beat around the bush.

“Yes, I came with him and our son.”

“Oh, I have to see him before I leave. I bet he’s all grown up now,” she murmurs. “So you’re all back together then?”

“No, no,” you deny, thanking the bartender when your drink arrives. “Jaehyun just invited me as a plus one this year. Or plus two, I guess.”

She hums noncommittally, throwing a mischievous side eye. Actually, in this moment, you realize how much she resembles Johnny.

You feel a hand graze your back. You look up to see Jaehyun, who’s throwing a timid smile in Seulgi’s direction.

“Sorry, can I steal her for a bit?”

Seulgi smirks knowingly. “You can have her for as long as you need, Mr. Jeong.”

His eyes narrow at her before he’s leading you away from the bar, his hand still sitting firmly on your lower back.

“Sorry to interrupt your conversation,” he apologizes in your ear, sending shivers down your spine at the proximity. “I need you to be my shield for these terribly boring conversations or I’ll melt into a puddle on the floor.”

You giggle. “So you’re throwing me into the dumpster fire?”

“More like I’m having you join me in the flames.”

The rest of the night eases your nerves more and more, and it gets to the point where you’re falling back into your old harmony with Jaehyun. You’re exchanging raised eyebrows when people aren’t looking, sharing your portion of small talk with the guests who approach you, and whispering in each other’s ears when a funny joke pops up. Jaehyun’s mom even swings by with your son a couple of times, giving you and Jaehyun the opportunity to spend some time with him together. You even manage to skirt around the straining questions if you two are back together, telling people you’re just here as friendly co-parents.

Despite that, for the first time in a long time, you felt like a family again.

By the end of the night, you’re climbing back into the car with Jaehyun while his parents wave you off, holding your son in their arms and assuring they’ll take good care of him.

Once they disappear out of view, you sink back and relax. Jaehyun laughs at you.

“Long night, huh?”

“My feet are killing me,” you complain, undoing the straps of your heels and tossing them aside.

His hand instantly comes to your neck, slowly massaging the tense muscles. You remember how he used to do that after every socially draining event you attended, and you lean into his touch.

“Thank you.”

The car runs into another speed bump and the movement causes you to grip onto Jaehyun’s arm, pushing your body into his. You gasp and he grabs your waist to steady you.

His hand feels like someone took a searing hot iron to your skin, and you grip his palm out of instinct. Your eyes glance over at him and you find he’s already looking at you, his other hand still resting steady against your pulse.

You don’t know who moves first.

The next sequence of events passes in a flurry, lips smashing together sloppily, hands flying around. You moan into his mouth and he unbuckles both of your seatbelts so you can climb onto his lap.

“Jae,” you groan, feeling his hands lift up your dress, sneaking up your thighs.

“I fucking missed you,” he says, sucking at your neck.

“Please, Jae,” you whimper, hands curled on the collar of his suit.

His hand firmly cups your clothed cunt and you whine loudly. You missed this — missed how rough he would get with you, how he would take you in front of anyone and everyone just to prove you were his. It’s why you got pregnant way before you planned to, and how you uncovered his desire to fill you raw.

“So fucking wet. This pussy’s all wet for me, isn’t that right?” He hisses in your ear, his deep voice causing you to soak your panties even more.

“Just for you, only for you,” you promise.

He captures your lips again as he pushes your underwear to the side, thumb circling your clit. You cry, hips starting to move on their own accord.

You admit, it’s been a long time since you were intimate with anyone, and it’s made you quite sensitive as a result.

“Want to feel it, baby,” his tongue traces your lower lip. You can start to feel drool pooling out of the corners of your mouth, but you know Jaehyun doesn’t care. If anything, he loves it when you’re sloppy like this. “Want to feel you cum around my fingers. Can you do that for me?”

It’s almost as if his words trigger something deep inside of you, because as soon as two fingers slip in, you’re already reaching your climax. He lets you ride out your high, hips moving back and forth on his fingers as if he was just a toy for your pleasure.

“God, you’re so fucking hot. Want to breed you so badly, baby.”

You gasp at the thought, pulling him into another searing kiss.

And that’s how Doyoung finds you, straddling Jaehyun’s lap with remnants of your orgasm leaking onto his trousers, lips desperately connected for more.

“Um, we’re back.”

You almost scream and Jaehyun pulls you closer to protect you. In your lustful haze, you failed to realize the car had come to a complete stop and Doyoung had opened the door to help you get out.

You’re incredibly embarrassed but Doyoung used to catch you in way more compromising positions before — one time, he had to uncomfortably barge in on Jaehyun fucking you over his desk because one of his shareholders was about to come in for an important meeting. So the fact that you’re still clothed lessens your shame.

You and Jaehyun waste no time, scrambling out of the car and quickly thanking Doyoung before sprinting into the cabin.

As soon as the door’s closed, Jaehyun’s on his knees, pushing up your dress and dragging your hips until you’re perfectly seated on his face. You hear the rip of your underwear but you don’t even care, fingers flying to grip his hair.

“Pretty girl,” he mumbles, tongue darting out to lick at your folds. His hands grasp your thighs, hard enough to leave bruises. “Ride my face, baby. Like you used to in those stuffy restaurant bathrooms, remember?”

Of course you remember. Every time Jaehyun brought you along to a boring business dinner, you always ended up riding his face in the bathroom just to make the night more interesting.

You channel that feeling you used to get, pushing your cunt on his tongue until you start to feel your wetness dripping down your thighs. You can hear the squelch of your pussy riding Jaehyun’s tongue, and it makes your hips move even faster to chase your release.

“S-So fucking g-good, Daddy,” you whine, your climax building in your stomach. “Gonna cum for you.”

You feel him push away in favor of sucking on your clit, three fingers prodding at your entrance. You cry at the intrusion.

“Too much, Daddy!”

“Gotta get you prepped, baby. You remember how hard it is for you to take my cock?”

You couldn’t forget. Jaehyun had to have the perfect body, almost like he was sculpted by the gods. This meant that he was extremely well endowed and most nights, it usually took a lot of prep for him to even fit halfway into your pussy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss when his fingers curl. “Gonna cum, gonna cum.”

You have never felt more grateful to Jaehyun’s mom until that moment, because the sound of your loud moans would normally be leading towards a noise complaint from the neighbors, but since the cabin was the only house for miles, you could be as loud as you want.

Jaehyun coaxes you through your high, abusing your clit until you beg him to stop, pushing him away from the overstimulation.

When he rises up on his feet, it’s like you two are teenagers again. He’s scrambling to take off your dress without damaging it and you’re clumsily pulling at his belt buckle until it gives. Once your dress has fallen to the ground, he throws his suit jacket somewhere and steps out of his slacks.

“No bra?” He groans, mouth immediately latching onto your nipple.

“Doesn’t- fuck, I can’t wear it with the dress. The straps will show.”

He picks you up like a ragdoll, and you find yourself being thrown over the coffee table, breaking at least three mugs along the way.

“Jae, be careful,” you try to scold him.

He doesn’t give a single fuck, taking his cock out and giving himself a few strokes.

“Raw, baby?”

You whimper, spreading your thighs apart in anticipation. “Yes, please, Daddy!”

The stretch of taking him is not unfamiliar, but it definitely fucking hurts.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking big,” you wail, hands gripping his shoulders.

“Have you fucked anyone else? Let anyone else inside what belongs to me?” He asks you, his gaze growing more intense.

There’s that possessiveness you remember. You recall every time anyone would try to flirt with you, Jaehyun would drag you home and fuck you until you cried just to show no one else could make you feel like he does. There was even one instance where he fingered you in front of some poor guy at a club, forcing him to watch as you screamed Jaehyun’s name.

“Just one guy,” you hastily confess. “Johnny set us up but he wasn’t good. He wasn’t anything like you, Daddy.”

He nearly growls at the mention of another man being intimate with you, hands pushing your thighs closer to your chest so he can sink deeper into you.

“I’ll kill him,” he whispers harshly down at you. You open your mouth and he’s fast to spit into it, watching you swallow. “I’ll fucking kill anyone who touches what’s mine.”

You groan, pulling him down so you can kiss him. He starts to thrust into you and it’s like you can feel yourself being split in half.

“Don’t act so innocent,” you breathe into his lips. “I’m sure you did the same.”

“Haven’t fucked anyone since you left,” he admits, bottoming out. You mewl and bring him closer. “I watch those movies we used to make and cum into my hand, wishing it was yours. Isn’t that pathetic?”

Early in your relationship, you and Jaehyun used to make a collection of home movies for your eyes only. It ranged from fucking in your old childhood bed to getting railed on a balcony in Paris. It used to be something for you two to look at when you missed each other, but you haven’t seen one in years. Knowing that he still gets off to them makes you even more wet.

“Fuck, you just got so tight, baby,” he groans. “You like knowing that I can only cum to the thought of you? That I picture filling you up every night, imagining you begging for my cock? Does that turn you on, baby?”

You curse loudly, body feeling like it’s on fire. His fingers trail down to pinch your clit and that sends you over the edge, crying and whimpering as you reach your third orgasm of the night.

Your limbs feel like jelly, but you know Jaehyun’s not even halfway done. He made you orgasm six times in one night before, and ever since then, he’s been trying to beat his record.

You feel him lift you up, still attached to his cock.

“I-I can’t, Jae,” you plead, but you know it’s no use anyways.

He places you down in front of the hallway mirror, where a long table stands beneath it, filled with small trinkets and ornaments. He’s quick to push them off, and you wince when you hear glass breaking.

“Jae-“

“Don’t give a fuck, baby. I’ll replace it later. Hands on the table, eyes on the mirror.”

He turns you around so your ass is facing him, and you whine when he gives it a hard slap. You obey his instructions, placing your palms on the wood and focusing on his predatory look in the mirror.

As he pushes back into you, his hand snakes around your middle, pulling you back onto his cock.

“Tell me,” he taunts in your ear. “Tell me how much you missed me.”

“S-So much,” you sniffle. “I fuck myself with that toy you bought me and I pretend it’s you.”

“Yeah?” He snickers, offering another slap to your ass. “What else?”

“I miss you all the time. Miss how I could go to your office and ride you before your next meeting. Miss sucking your cock dry before you left for work. Miss you filling me up until it was dripping out of my pussy.”

He groans, pressing his face into your shoulder and biting down.

“Tell me,” you whisper, starting to feel vulnerable. “Tell me how much you missed me.”

“You know how much I missed you, baby,” he replies, eyes locked on yours through the mirror. “You know and you never need to ask.”

And there’s no other words that need to be said, because you understand exactly what he means. You almost begin to cry at the thought of him coming home to an empty house, searching through every room for you and your son and finding nothing but empty drawers and naked bed sheets.

“Don’t be sad, baby,” he murmurs, gently thrusting into you. “You know I deserved it.”

“I missed you,” you choke out. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.”

He tilts the side of your face and pulls you into a kiss, railing you deeper and deeper until your toes scrape the floor.

“Please cum in me, Jae. Please, I need it,” you beg.

“Are you back on birth control, baby?”

You shake your head. “No, but it’s okay. Cum in me raw, it’s okay.”

“Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I do, and I want it,” you whisper to him, interlacing your fingers. “It’s okay, Jae. Fill up my pussy, baby.”

He curses loudly before releasing inside of you, filling you until his cum starts to drip down your thighs.

He’s quick to drop back down to his knees, pulling you to his mouth again so he can send you to another orgasm. You tell him you don’t need another one but he doesn’t listen, fervently eating his cum out of your pussy like it’s his last meal.

You reach your high just like that, with his tongue deep inside you and your hands still gripping the hallway table.

When you come down, he lifts you bridal style and carries you to your bathroom.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.”

—

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping and a large heater pressed against your back. Except the large heater is actually your ex-fiancé, who’s snoring loudly in your ear.

You smile fondly, thinking about the previous night. You reach to check your phone on the nightstand, and roll your eyes at your unread text messages.

[johnnyjsuh]: so what happened? did he fuck you?

[johnnyjsuh]: oh he FOR SURE fucked you, you’re not even reading my texts rn

[johnnyjsuh]: just confirmed with doyoung

[johnnyjsuh]: have fun whore

You feel Jaehyun stir behind you and you place your phone down. He kisses your temple.

“Mm, good morning, baby. Breakfast in bed?”

You smile at the thought and nod, watching him get up and pull on his boxers. However, there’s a lingering voice in the back of your head and you wish you could stop it before it grows, but it’s impossible.

“Jae?” You question before he’s out the door, and he pauses to look at you. “Why did you never get mad?”

He blinks a few times, processing your question. He walks over and sits at the edge of the bed, and you sit up to look at him properly.

“Why would I get mad? You were doing what was best for you and the little bear.”

“But I never told you. I just-“ you place your head in your hands, guilt washing over you. “I just left you.”

You feel him taking your hands away from your face and he tilts your chin up so he can look at you.

“It was a bad situation, and I caused it. You were right — I never came home, I was overworking myself to prove something to the public, and I lost everything because of it. I needed that wake-up call from you. And I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve begged you to come back, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I convinced myself that you were better off without me, and that the little bear deserved a father who was always present. It’s all my fault and I never want to see you blame yourself for my wrongs.”

You frown, taking your hands in his and staring into his eyes.

“Do you really believe that? That all of the blame should’ve fallen on you?”

He nods meekly, suddenly too embarrassed to meet your stare, looking down at the sheets.

“Jae,” you sigh. “You know our relationship held equal weight on both sides. Did I wish you were more present for us? Of course. But it’s also my fault for never communicating to you how frustrated I was. I just didn’t know how, and it resulted in me running away from the problem instead of working through it. I think about that day all the time — what would’ve happened if I just waited for you to come home? What would’ve happened if I told you how I was feeling? It was too difficult for me to process and as much as I was confident in my decision, a part of me wishes I would’ve stayed and talked through it.”

“But you should’ve never been in that position in the first place,” he replies, looking more heartbroken than you’ve ever seen him. “I knew I was working way too hard for something that might not even be achievable. I was so desperate to be accepted that I forgot about my family. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Your eyes well with tears and you wonder how long he’s carried this guilt with him. You lean over and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” you whisper, hands still desperately clutching his. “If you promise me that this time will be different, I want us to be together again. To try and be a family again.”

His eyes sparkle with hope and he kisses you again.

“I promise. I promise I’m here for our family. I’m going to be a better partner and a better father. Thank you.”

“And?” You raise an eyebrow and he laughs, nuzzling his head into your neck playfully.

“And I love you. More than anything in this world.”

His lips chase you until your head hits the pillow. You whine when his hand roughly clutches your waist.

“We-“ he starts to say, kissing down your neck. “We have to go pick up the little bear.”

“In a minute,” you respond, wanting to savor this moment with him. “Let me suck you off first.”

He groans. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that, baby. If we’re on limited time, you know I’m making sure I get you pregnant before you walk out that door.”

You moan. “I’m pretty sure you already did that last night.”

“You never know until a couple of tries later, right?”

He moves to drop his boxers but then he suddenly remembers something, looking bashful as he glances down at you.

“What? What is it?”

“I was a little too rough last night and well, I think your dress got the receiving end of most of it.”

“Jaehyun!”

“I’m sorry, I tried my best not to damage it!”

You roll your eyes and turn over, pushing yourself on your hands and knees.

“Put a baby in me and I’ll forgive you.”

“I fucking love you.”

#nct smut #jaehyun #jaehyun smut

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rika-mmendmethings · 2 months ago

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Against Blood & Water l Sylus

Chapter 1

CH 2 »

Summary: Seventeen years ago, your life had taken a turn for the worse when your newborn twins were separated from you by a cruel twist of fate. The same fate had led you to the N109 Zone, to your children who were all grown up now. Reconciliation with your boys would've been slightly easier had they somehow not acquired a father figure over the years who wasn't letting them go anytime soon.

Warning(s): Subject to change as we progress further into the story. For this chapter: manipulative relationship, unplanned pregnancy, unresponsible man, parent child abduction, only angst in this one.

Word count: 1.8k

Playlist coming soon.

Notes: This story is for the Sylus girlies' who consider Luke and Kieran their babies. There'd probably be some important questions in your mind after you finish reading this. Some of them would be revealed in the coming chapters. Slightly altered details would be present in the story but mostly it won't deviate from the timeline. A little information on the timeline: in this story, the reader is 35 with Luke and Kieran being 17. Sylus never felt like 28 to me so he's a hot ass 39 year old man (bear with me). The reader was pregnant just some weeks after she turned 18 so no, she isn't a minor. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask me and I'd try my best to give you a proper answer without revealing too much. Let me know if you wish to be added in the tag list for this. ♥

Seventeen years ago, October came like it always did — a month of crisp air and golden sunsets, a time when the year began to wane, and the world seemed to breathe its last sigh before the chill of winter. You had turned eighteen, your mind filled with the thoughts of new beginnings. Graduation from law school was right on the horizon, you could already picture the crisp white collar of your lawyer’s shirt, the feel of success at your fingertips. A driving license to claim, grown-up independence to savor, a girl’s trip to a sunny beach to mark your coming-of-age. The possibilities stretched out like an endless road, glittering and full of hope.

Then, a steamy night for the celebration of your birthday occurred and it brought along a twist of fate that’d change everything and become the most beautiful mistake of your life.

The moment you found out you were pregnant, it was as if the ground beneath you trembled. The bright future you had painted for yourself seemed to splinter into a thousand broken pieces. You had hoped, for one fleeting moment, that it was just a mistake. But the test was undeniable, the two pink lines standing as cold, unyielding evidence.

At that time, you thought that it was the end.

But then, there was him. Your boyfriend of four years, the boy who had promised you the world with every kiss, every touch. He held you through your multiple breakdowns, whispering soft reassurances. “We’ll figure it out, we’ll be okay. Family first, family always.”

The words sounded comforting at first, and you clung to them like a lifeline thrown into an ocean of uncertainty. You couldn’t even bring yourself to imagine your parents’ reaction. But somehow, in your heart, you trusted him. You believed that you both were in this together, that you’d somehow find a way to make everything work.

You told your parents three weeks into the pregnancy. Their reaction was what you had feared — disbelief, disappointment, a quiet storm of emotions. You expected them to disown you but you willed yourself to not jump upon any fear-induced scenarios. But then, as if they could see past the temporary cloud, they wrapped their arms around you, telling you that the ones who you call your own never leave you in any kind of situation. Your parents had stood as your shield against the societal backlash and never failed to take your stand.

Soon after, you broke the news to your friends and close cousins as well and all of them got together to host a small, no alcohol included, party for you. Some selective relatives of yours were slightly taunting you but they came around as well. You had been overjoyed seeing so much love and acceptance from the people you valued.

You had thought of your boyfriend, miles away handling his family’s business, telling you with a strange half-smile that his parents were abroad and they were supportive of your decisions, that they had already agreed. He informed you that he’d come with his parents to meet you after the birth of your children. And like the love-blinded fool you were, you believed him, your heart softened by his honey-dripped words.

He wasn’t around much during your pregnancy, much to your loved ones’ disapproval, but you dispelled their fears, telling them that he was just busy with his parents’ business. Though you didn’t feel alone during all your ultrasounds, gender reveal, and other precious moments.

Nine months passed, and the world shifted once again. You gave birth to twins, two perfect, crying little boys. Luke and Kierran — names given by you as strong as their tiny, trembling hearts. You looked at their faces, so innocent and unaware, and felt a surge of love that was deeper than any ocean, more infinite than the stars. They were your world, and in that moment seeing their tiny arms flail, you felt the warmth of motherhood in your chest. And you realized that your dreams may have been altered, but they were not truly gone.

The hospital room felt warm, a sanctuary of love and joy as all the visitors took their leave to let you rest. You smelled faintly of antiseptic, but in your delirious new-mother state, it was the smell of life. Your eyes fluttered closed as you slept on the bed beside their crib, your babies’ soft breathing a lullaby in the still night.

And then, you woke to a noise.

A shadow moved at the door, and you blinked through the haze of sleep.

It was him.

Your boyfriend.

He was standing there, a figure you hadn’t seen in at least four months, his eyes uncertain, his posture stiff. You smiled, expecting him to rush to the crib and hold our children, to finally meet the lives you two had created together, a symbol of your love. But instead, he moved toward you with a strange, almost frantic urgency.

Before you could react, he was there, the faint scent of chloroform filling your nostrils as his trembling hands pressed a soaked napkin to your face. Your eyes widened in confusion, and then the world blurred; your limbs grew heavy, and you lost consciousness.

And then… darkness.

When you woke up, it was afternoon from what you could tell. The faces around you were full of sorrow, your parents’ eyes swollen from crying, your friends silent, their faces stricken. The hospital staff stood nearby, their looks pitying and grim. Out of maternal instinct, you checked the crib and you found the place empty where your children were supposed to be.

"Where... where are my twins?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper. It didn’t help your gut as everyone became more sorrowful at that. The words barely lingered in the room before your mother’s sobs filled the room.

“They’re gone,” she said, her voice breaking. "Your boyfriend’s parents—they never approved of them. They... they made him do it. They made him abandon them."

The weight of the words crashed into me like a tidal wave. You couldn't understand, couldn't process the agony of the moment. He—he had abandoned them? My twin boys? My heart shattered, piece by piece, as the cruel reality set in.

“They—where are they?” you gasped your throat tight with the kind of fear that makes your body tremble, the kind of terror that comes from losing something more precious than life itself.

“They’re gone,” your mother repeated, her voice thick with pain. “He took them somewhere after you passed out… probably leaving them on the streets. And then... he ran away. He and his family took the first flight and are abroad now, so we can’t even track them down.”

The room spun, the walls closing in on you. It was a nightmare that you had awoken to, and you couldn’t escape. Your babies, your sweet, innocent twins, were gone. Gone because of him, because of his family. Because all of them didn’t want to take responsibility. And you had been blind enough to trust him.

That day, you had ripped the IV tube out of your arm and dashed out of the hospital in your gown before anyone could stop you. The following hours were a blur of endless searching. You scoured the streets, your hands trembling as you asked strangers if they had seen two newborn babies somewhere. But it was as if they had vanished into the ether, erased from the world as though they had never existed.

You hadn’t worn any slippers, and your feet were dirty, swollen, and even painted with dried blood as your family tried to get you back to the hospital, much to your denial. Once you were back on the bed with your condition rechecked and the room empty, you broke down into sobs. For nine months, you had carried your children and you didn’t even get to spend a whole day with them before they were already ripped out of your arms by the cruel hands of fate.

You had so many dreams that you imagined with them. Every special moment of their life was taken from you just because a boy refused to be a man. You threw the blanket off your body, bitter tears rolling down your cheeks. You felt like a terrible, terrible mother for even being in this air-conditioned room while your boys were out there in this unbearable weather.

Days passed and then months, the pain of their absence gnawed at you every second. You could hear their little cries, their laughter, their tiny hands reaching for me in the darkness. You could still feel the weight of their little bodies in your arms, their warm breath on your skin, and then, just as suddenly, they were gone. You’d see them grow up and then you’d wake up abruptly, drenched in sweat.

Every day, you fought the emptiness, the overwhelming loneliness that threatened to consume you. It was a tragic loss that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

But through it all, you told yourself — you would find them.

Even if it took a lifetime, you would never stop searching. Because nothing in this world could ever break a mother’s determination.

And as you searched, you clung to the memory of their tiny hands in yours, the soft whispers of their names as you held them tightly for the first and last time that unfateful day.

Seventeen years had passed since that fateful day, and now you were a highly successful lawyer working within Linkon’s judiciary system. The sense of relief and satisfaction that came from seeing criminals — especially kidnappers — locked behind bars was unparalleled. In a way, it served as a form of catharsis, a way to release the unrestrained anger you felt for the man who had stolen your bundles of happiness from you.

At present, you were secretly handling a case involving a notorious drug lord, but you had reached an impasse. Determined to break through, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You ventured into a few unlawful locations, hoping to gather enough intel to lead you to the evidence you needed. Your eyes lingered on the conspiracy board in your home, focusing particularly on the parchment handed to you just the day before at The Nest. It contained an address — a location pointing to an old warehouse where, according to sources, drugs were stored until they could be transported to the docks.

The warehouse was situated in the N109 Zone, an area infamous for its criminal activity. The judicial system considered it a nightmare, a place no sane lawyer would dare to tread. But then again, you had long since stopped being called "sane." Your colleagues knew better than anyone how stubborn you could be, especially when it came to cases like this. No one had yet managed to deter you from the dangerous paths you chose to walk.

You had devised a plan: gain access to N109 with the assistance of some wealthy clients, secure an apartment, and collect the evidence you needed. It sounded simple enough. Yet, as you prepared for your journey, a sense of foreboding crept over you, as if your very instincts were warning you of something to come.

But you didn’t care. The next morning, you set off for the N109 Zone, resolute in your mission.

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

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nerdygirlramblings · 3 months ago

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the pups come home!

an: it's another long one. sorry?

cw: poorly executed accents, omegaverse biology, m/m anal sex (including knotting)

Quiet but not quite. Still but reatless. Nervous energy crackles in the air. Excited tension. The house holds its breath, waiting. Your parents and the new pups are on their way home.

Every passing car causes a cascade of glances before the eventual, "Not them," from Ben, positioned at the front window until the gentle rumble of the engine in the drive sets everyone in motion.

Surprisingly, it's Davy who beats everyone to the door, opening it, revealing Mum mid-reach. From the sofa, you watch first as surprise then love chase away her momentary shock. Shaky arms come up as she enfolds Davy in a hug, murmuring softly to him. He returns the embrace, the muscles in his arms tensing as he squeezes her back. Michael and Helen drop quick kisses on her cheeks before slipping past her into the front garden. The three of you decided last night how you'd help when everyone came home from the birth centre. Their job is to help the moms bring Dad and the new pups in. You job is to get everyone fed and settled. There's soup for Dad, full plates for Mama and Mum, and two bottles ready.

While the elder twins bring in the younger twins, you let the triplets greet Mum and then Mama and Dad as they come through the door. All three adults give all three teens the same treatment: whispered words and tender hugs and kisses. It's a much more joyous return from the birthing centre than the triplets have seen your parents have before. All they've known is the litters Dad lost. You want them to be able to celebrate this miracle.

Though the elder twins bring the new ones in, it's the triplets who are officially introduced to them first, lifting each baby into the crook of their neck for just a moment to let the baby smell them, imprint their scent, and know this is family. Watching the ritual your parents established when the first twins were born, telling the triplets, "They aren't our babies, they're your babies too. You'll be here to love them and guide them. To look out for them. And one day, when we're gone, you'll be there for each other. Family."

Hearing it again, you realize your parents always stressed family, but they never said pack. You know many people see them as synonymous terms, but Mama was a literature major at uni, and you were raised with the importance of using the right words. You know there is a reason they use family instead of pack. You wish you understood what it was.

When you finally have a chance to be introduced, you take each baby from Michael, Grant first then Amelia, holding their little heads close, whispering the same thing you've only said five times, "You are more than my sibling. You are part of me, and that will never change. I will love you and support you and care for you always." Each reverent phrase accompanied by a kiss to the baby's temple before passing the child off to one of your parents.

Michael and Helen swing through the kitchen and pick up the bottles to feed the babies. You all remember how tired Dad is after a delivery, so you wrap an arm around his waist in the guise of holding him close after the successful delivery, Mum and Mama slowly trailing after you. You settle them all at the table, then join them to catch them up on how the household has fared in their absence.

You hadn't had a chance to talk with them when you first arrived, and now they ask why you're home. "Clearly you couldn't have expected this," Mum huffs a laugh.

"No," you smile indulgently at first her then Dad, "this was a pleasant surprise."

The question of why you're here, now, is tied up in feelings about your team you don't quite understand and aren't sure how to process, so you don't answer it. Hopefully your parents are too fatigued to notice, but it feels like Dad is watching you pick at your fingers even though his eyes are on his food and the doorway through which you can hear Michael and Helen teaching the triplets how to hold and feed the pups. Mum and Mama must catch on something too - your avoidance, your nervous tic - and blatantly watch you over their plates. "Did something happen with your team?" Mum whispers, keeping this conversation to the kitchen.

A shoulder rises and falls. Your lips twist for a moment. Small movements there and gone belie the mess of emotions you don't know how to name.

Mama's hand on yours, a warm weight tethering you. "I think we need to talk when the rest are in the nest and the pups are sleeping." You can only nod.

"Dunno if ye heard, but the lass's Da had his pups," Soap whispers into the quiet evening. All he receives is a grunt in response. He's wrapped in Ghost's arms, Ghost's knot slowly deflating in his ass. A cock in the ass is one thing. Heat and stretch. The burn pleasant, a successful workout. An alpha's knot is an altogether different experience. Heat hot enough to scorch if you're unlucky. A stretch too far to be comfortable for either party, despite biology at play. Micro tears and burst capillaries. But he and Gaz do this for Ghost and will do it for Price in a few months if you aren't pack by then. It's one way they help the pack with balance.

Soap keeps up his running commentary in these stolen moments when Ghost is lucid, unconsumed by his instincts. "Price said 'e thinks she may be open ta courtin' when we get back." The arm around his waist grips tighter, and Ghost's scent goes briney with his arousal, a perfect compliment to Soap's own marine notes. "Ye like tha', huh, havin' Ren as oor own 'mega?" He knows the other man wants you. They all want you. And Ghost has been vocal this rut, calling out your name. Soap overhead Price's side of yesterday's call with you. Could hear a tinny version of you voice through the phone. The sadness there unmistakable. He knows Price is playing the long game. He only wished he knew how it will all play out.

Things are dark, closed, safe by the time your parents pull you from the nest. The pups and triplets are fast asleep, but Helen startles from half-slumber and Michael turns from his screen. "Just need to chat with your sister before she heads back to base," Dad tells them. "Can ya watch the pups? We'll be in the kitchen, yeah?" Michael nods, back to scrolling through his phone in the dim room. Helen scoots into the space Mama left next to the new pups, her body a gentle barrier to the nest's edge.

In the kitchen, the quiet feels oppressive. The lights don't make the room warm and inviting, instead you're on the wrong side of an interrogation, like when your parents caught you sneaking in from a party when you were in Lower Sixth. A butterfly under glass. Pinned by the weight of their knowing gazes.

The air takes on weight. There's some silent conversation between the moms and Dad. You remember the looks they shared when you told them about being on the boards on base. Finally, you crack. "What?" you ask, nervous and unsure of your footing.

"Baby," Dad starts, "why are you here?"

You avoided the question earlier but know they won't let you deflect now. "We'll, the team had leave, so I came home." The omission is deafening.

"Ya didn't want to take leave with yer team?" Mum asks. "Get ta know them without all the trainin' ya do?"

Somehow they've mastered the art of seeing past your artifice, and if you don't start telling them now, Mama will cut through your bullshit faster than a dog can lick a dish. You shift uncomfortably. This is somehow worse than the conversations you had in your teens about sex and consent and your heats and an alpha's ruts. Your jaw clenches briefly before you force yourself to relax. "Well, I'm here cause it isn't really leave fer the others. One of the pack alphas has his rut, and the whole pack takes a week to handle it together." You don't rush because if you go too fast and have to repeat yourself, you will self-immolate.

Mama blinks while Mum stares at Dad. Clear whatever planned conversation they had, this is not the information they expected you to share. "Er," Mama says, "that's very... progressive of them, yeah?" She recovers quickly because she asks, "Aren't they on suppressants?"

You shake your head. "Captain Price said they only use 'em during missions. Keeps 'em from throwin' anyone off balance for too long." Dad nods, and you hope he's remembering your bad reactions.

He's the one who breaks the silence next. "How do ya feel about them doin' that? Takin' off together, without you, to handle their alpha's rut?"

You think he's asking about you, but he could be asking about your omega, and you hate that you don't know which one answers when you say, honestly, "I miss them."

Mum hums and Mama nods along, but it's still Dad who speaks. "Have ya given any more thought to the other half of yer Captain's offer?"

There's no denying now this is about you being 141's omega, being more than teammates. Your hands fiddle in your lap. The longer you wait, the more obvious your answer seems to be, to them and to yourself. "I don't want things to change," you finally whisper, sounding so much younger. Vulnerable in a way you haven't let yourself be in too many years to count.

"Hey, pretty girl," Dad croons. You can't help but look at him. "Captain Price seems like a good alpha. We know he's a good Captain and a good man. From what you've told us, the whole team supports you and wants you to be a successful soldier. They're already looking out for you in their way."

Your parents let you sit with that truth for a few quiet minutes before Mama tells you, "Seems like they've shown interest. And it looks like your omega is interested. You deserve a pack of your own, honey. You've already put so much faith in these men. Maybe it's time to take that last leap, yeah?"

Mum chimes in with, "You'll always be our sweet girl, but you deserve a pack who will love you in a way we can't." There are tears lining her eyes, but she blinks them away before they fall. "We want you happy."

When they head back to the nest, you don't immediately follow. You sit in the stillness and listen, really listen, to your omega. How the team makes her feel safe, desired, cared for. How she wants what your parents have: the love and support and eventual family.

You know the 141 wouldn't make you retire. They'll support your career, and in that way, they're already better than most packs you could find. If rumors spread about you sleeping your way into the team because you're their omega, you know the pack would have your back. Isn't that what you've always wanted? To be seen as who you are, not what you are?

Isn't it worth it to try?

series masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: @sirbonesly @z-wantstowrite @thriving-n-jiving @cecelia97 @theycallmevalen @boogeysmoth @cryingpages @riley13 @luxylucylou @lucienofthelakes @ilyztwo @chaosundcoffee @lostintransist @thegreyjoyed @honestlymassivetrash @thebumbqueen @maliamaiden @mordacioust @bina-passion-fruit @kittygonap

#cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse 141 #omegaverse tf 141 #a/b/o #a/b/o 141 #a/b/o tf 141 #john price #johnny mactavish #simon riley #kyle garrick #nerdygirl says #fierce wars and faithful loves

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hollyoongs · 1 month ago

Text

𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 𝗝𝗔𝗞𝗘's 𝗩𝗘𝗥 !

prólogo you loved how much your boyfriend wanted you every minute, but you didn't know how badly needed I'd be at the end of Coachella. You should have kept the words of the person who was saying the fortune about his sexual drive in your mind, but you matched him. [MASTERLIST]

elenco shim jaeyun x f!reader

género smut with little plot

antes de leer switch!jake, switch!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), cum eating, multiple orgasms, heavy oral (both), squrit, dirty talk, pet names (love, baby), slight degradation, temperature play (use of ice cubes), breeding, cockwarming at the end, mentions of future multiple rounds, riding, let me know if i missed something.

# palabras +3.5k

There was one thing about Jake that he could not contain, and it was his tongue outside the bedroom or on the stage.

At this point, you needed a tracker on how many times his tongue was out in a flirty manner the whole first day of Coachella. Ever since you accidentally told him he looked hot when he did that unconsciously, he does some on purpose, even winking at you while he dances his heart out, and you just have to pretend you are immune to those actions.

Aside from that, you enjoyed the performance, all seven members showing everyone what they've got and what they are missing out on. You could see it in his eyes; he still didn’t believe he was stepping onto that stage that was once unreachable. Behind his professionalism, there was awe written all over his face.

As they were approaching their last song , the lights from the stage made the moment feel even more surreal. Jake caught your gaze once more, throwing you a soft wink, a mischievous glint sparking behind his sweaty fringe. You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, mouthing Stop it when you knew he could see you.

Once they were finished, you quickly moved to the backstage alongside some staff that were around, camouflaging quickly into it since they knew you and smoothly going to where all the boys were doing a group hug, the view warming your heart enough to take your phone out to record a video.

You zoomed in, heart swelling at the sight of them completely tired but grinning from ear to ear. Jake was the first to break from the huddle, running a hand through his hair before glancing around when his eyes landed on you. You caught the image of his face lighting up, his unique boyish happiness that you were used to.

Despite his body screaming exhaustion, he jogged over to you to look directly at the camera.

“We did it!” He half-yelled into the camera, his two arms up in his normal pose, and soon hugged you, the camera in the middle of both of you, and you were sure the screen was pitch black.

“You were amazing. I’m so proud of you, love,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t sound as wobbly as you felt. He separates enough for you to see him smile shyly but soon recovers just enough to kiss your lips, but only for a brief second, kind of like a stolen peck. It left your heart stuttering in your chest, which led to you giving him a shy smile.

“Wait for me, okay?” You gave him a soft ‘yes’ before he gave you a final squeeze before pulling away. You turned the camera back towards him and the rest of his members, his cameraman in front of him as he recorded their grateful faces for a successful day one of Coachella and speeches.

After what felt like ten minutes, he came to you, only to grab you by the waist and kiss you again, this time more deeply yet a little fast for both of you licking. He separated with a smile on his face, and you laughed.

“Oh my god, what’s gotten into you?” You grabbed his jean jacket as his excitement was shown in his sudden energy rush.

“I feel like I’m on top of the world. Let’s go celebrate, you and me. Right now,” he said, and you look around for a moment.

“I actually still can’t believe you paid for the yurt at the safari campgrounds behind my back.” Jake just raised his shoulders, belittling it, but with a mocking smile on his face.

“And I said I will pay for everything since you told me you were coming and you went to purchase it behind my back, so… we are even.” You rolled your eyes to fill the lack of argument you had prepared and saw the manager. Before you could even move, Jake was already in front of him talking to him, even seeing Jake doing a little begging to him, soon returning to you with a happy face.

“What did you do?”

“I got permission to go to your yurt, but he will pick me up later since we need to do a livestream." You were really thinking if his face didn’t hurt because of how his smile never left his face; Jake’s grin was practically criminal at this point. “So, we’ve got—what—a little more than 1 hour of freedom?”

“You got one hour? How?” you echoed, not even hiding your surprise, and he didn’t answer. Instead, his hand casually slid to the small of your back as he walked you away from the backstage. With a few people that were from his staff, you two carefully took another route to the yurt to prevent any fan on the low; once inside the yurt, you turned on the lights as well as the air conditioner.

Jake stepped in behind you, closing the door and minimizing the noise from the festival without looking, his eyes already fixed on you. You kicked your shoes off and jumped in surprise when you felt his arms wrapping around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck after turning you around. His breath felt warm against your skin, and it sent shivers through your spine.

“You being here made it ten times better.” His voice was muffled by his position, but you could understand it perfectly. He started swaying slightly with you in his arms; you found yourself running your fingers through the now slightly damp strands of hair, making it messier than before, and your other hand brushed down the line of his back.

“You’re still sweaty,” you teased.

“Want me to shower?” he asked, finally raising his head up to lock your eyes with his.

“You didn’t even bring new clothes and might not have time for that with your little countdown going on,” you said, though your breath caught when he kissed you, fierce and passionate.

His hands were firm on your ass, squeezing it through your denim shorts, and when you were on his jacket, he started to guide you back until the back of your knees met the edge of the bed, his hands no longer on your body but taking his jacket off. The kiss kept his rough pace, even adding tongue on it that made your head fuzzy; he lowered himself to grab the back of your thighs, legs wrapped on his hips.

He sat on the bed with you on top of him; Jake’s lips never left yours as he helped you shimmy out of your top, hands brushing along your skin with just enough roughness to make you shiver. His breath was hot against your cheek, ragged from both the performance and the rush between you now.

“Fuck, you are so pretty,” he murmured against your lips as he held you against him.

Your fingers fumbled with his zipper, not just from urgency, but from the way he looked at you — pupils blown wide, sweat still clinging to his skin from the stage, the edge of performance adrenaline still humming through every line of his body. He helped you, impatient now, both of you caught somewhere between laughter and need as you shed your clothes like they were on fire.

The backs of your thighs burned from his palms, spreading you wider against him as he lay back, bringing you with him, his mouth trailing over your chest, your collarbone, claiming every inch of you while he still had time. The fabric of his tank top clung to him, and you pushed it up over his head, revealing the lean muscle beneath, and threw it on the floor.

“I should be tired,” he groaned, letting his head fall back briefly against the bed, his eyes fluttering shut. “But you’re better than any encore.”

You leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth, letting your teeth graze his jaw. “You better make this a good one then; you earned it.”

Jake laughed, and as he flipped you both with sudden ease, pinning your wrists beside your head, the look in his eyes said he absolutely intended to. His lips went to yours again. “Have you drunk?”

“A little pregame.” You admitted he suddenly left your body on the bed to go to the mini fridge, grabbed one of the plastic cups that you bought, and added a few ice cubes to it, coming back soon to be on top of you. “What are you trying to do?”

“Take the last pieces of clothes off you,” the rush of energy he had before calmed down, one of his dainty fingers grabbing an ice cube and putting it right about your chest; you exhale sharply at the sensation.

Because of that, your body radiated; it started to melt easily, all traces of water over your body, and he licked it. The coldness of his fingers stopped at the hook of your bra, slowly sliding the bra off your shoulders to later remove it completely; he sighed at the view of your erect nipples.

The corners of his mouth curled as his hands kept doing a trail of melted ice. The ice went lower until it reached your nipple, leaving it there for a moment. "Shit, Jake."

Jake’s eyes flicked up to yours, a face of satisfaction lighting behind the strands of his fringe as he watched your chest rise sharply with the chill. “Too cold?” he asked, his tone teasing enough to make you moan.

You didn’t get a chance to answer before his mouth was on you — hot — deliciously contrasting with the ice that made your toes curl into the sheets. He swirled his tongue over where the cube had rested, chasing the water with slow motions, then gave a teasing suck that had you gasping his name.

“Thought I earned it, love,” he murmured, voice husky as he reached for another ice cube, already half-melted in his warm fingers. You barely had time to catch your breath before the same tingling chill kissed your other side, and then his mouth followed once again. You could see in his doe eyes that he was trying to take on every reaction he pulled from you.

Your back arched involuntarily, hands clenching into the sheets as he took his time, the lazy licks already making you more impatient.

You felt the scrape of his teeth, and your breath hitched, followed by a soothing lick that had your skin breaking out in goosebumps. Jake glanced up again at you, laughing a little at the state you were in.

He left a trail of kisses across your chest, down the center of your torso, tracing where melted ice had already disappeared, his hands hooked under the waistband of your shorts.

“These need to go,” he said, his fingers working quickly, tugging them down with your underwear in one motion, his mouth following close behind with hungry kisses pressed to every inch of newly exposed skin.

The last ice cube was on his hands as he threw the empty cup, starting from the valley of your breast to your belly button. "Baby, please," you begged, but soon the begging turned into a high-pitched moan when the ice was put on your clit.

Jake's eyes never left your face as he guided the melting cube by doing circles on it, the cold shocking against the heat of your cunt, making your entire body tense in the most delicious way.

“Baby, please, I-I can't… ” You gasped again, your voice trembling between need and desperation.

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” he whispered, soon throwing the half-melted cube aside and replacing it with the heat of his mouth. His grip tightened on your hips, grounding you as his mouth went directly to abuse your clit and his fingers went inside you, easily making their way to your G-spot.

"Fuck, Jake!" You cried out, your body was trembling, and his fingers were thrusting inside you as he slurped all your arousal like a starved man, working you like he knew your body better than his own — and he did. His tongue flicked and circled on your clit, and your thighs caught his head, and instead of separating your legs, he went faster.

The suffocating sensation was pure bliss to him, his fingers going up and down as he heard you gasping and screaming just for him, "Jake, God!"

His moans were thrown directly to your core, your left hand grabbing his hair and the other one clutching the sheets, toes curling, and every muscle in your body simply straining toward him. His fingers started a vertical motion, and you lost it, the coil in your stomach rapidly exploding; you wanted to take him out of your pussy, knowing the familiar sensation.

"Jake, I-I'm going to—" Your pathetic warning came out broken, barely making it past your lips.

But he dove deeper, his fingers curled and pressing exactly where you needed, tongue practically making out with your bundle of nevers until you finally snapped, a full-body quake ripping through you as your climax hit hard like you have never felt before. The space of your yurt echoed your crying as Jake held you through it, licking all your squirt, his hips grinding on the mattress.

"Fuck, baby," he said, finally letting you breathe, but with his fingers letting every ounce of your orgasm out. "You're so perfect when you let go like that. So creamy for me."

You weren't even paying attention; you were completely lost in your ongoing orgasm, the high buzzing through your limbs as your hands slipped from where they were grabbing, too spent to do anything but just lay into the mattress.

Jake finally rose, his face flushed and glistening with your first orgasm. He crawled back over you, forearms braced on either side of your body as he kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Open your mouth for me, love." You did as he said, a drop of his saliva landing right on the tip of your tongue, sliding in before you swallowed it. With the energy that was back in your body, it was your turn to lay him down on the bed. You removed his pants with his help, your eyes distracted by the view of a wet patch in front of his boxers.

"Did you cum in your pants?" His face got even more red.

"Sorry, love. Couldn't help myself."

You blinked in surprise, a slow smirk forming as your hand ran teasingly down his abdomen, seeing him tense. "You came just from that?"

Jake covered his face with his hand, groaning in embarrassment, though the crooked smile tugging at his lips gave him away. "You have no idea what you look like when you fall apart because of me," he muttered from behind his fingers.

You gently pulled his hand away, pressing a kiss to his flushed cheek. "That might've been the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Jake looked up at you with a needy, almost dazed expression; his hand found your hips instinctively as you hovered above him, your fingers curling under the waistband of his soaked boxers. He helped you out by lifting his hips for you, and you tugged them down slowly, only to reveal his length — already hard again, as if the memory of your orgasm only turned him on again.

"Jesus, Jake," you whispered under your breath, wrapping one hand around him, giving a lazy stroke that made his hips jerk, especially when your thumb created invisible circles on his tip. "You're already this hard again for me?"

He bit his lip, a helpless moan escaping him. "We have more than an hour, right?"

You giggled lowly and leaned down, kissing just below his navel, tracing the fine trail of hair down to where your hand worked him slowly. His thighs twitched beneath you; you now kissed way lower, licking a stripe up his shaft before settling back to hover above him, your mouths almost touching, creating some desperation in him as he tried to reach your lips, but you pulled away.

Jake cupped the back of your head at the saw of your intentions. "Please ride me, love."

You made a thinking face before standing up, trying your best not to let your shaky legs betray you, opening your fridge to grab two of the smallest ice cubes you had, and going back to him. "Let me have fun first, love,"

Jake leaned back on his elbows, watching you climb back onto the bed, straddling him again slowly, and held up the ice between your fingers. He hissed when the cube touched his skin, soft sighs leaving his body as you trace lines across his stomach, watching the droplets trail down and catch on the curves of his abs.

"You're evil—fuck," he breathed, but soon broke into a moan as the ice reached his tip. He was so focused on the sensation that he didn’t see the second ice cube vanish between your lips.

When he looked back at you, your mouth was curved in a wicked little smile, lips tinged pink and glistening. “What are you—”

You didn’t give him time to finish; you simply leaned down and took as much as you could of his length. "Shit—"

Your movements were slow, teasing his sensitive, even more when your hand reached his balls to add to the pleasure.

"So good, baby… Keep going." His head fell back, breathing through the pleasure, feeling how you easily increased and decreased your pace, not wanting him to have his second orgasm.

You could feel how his length was getting bigger in your mouth, his hand now in your hair a clear sign of how he would cum again for you, and just like he did, you wanted him to cum in your mouth.

Your hand was cooperating with your mouth, a faster speed, and the grip on your hair tightened in desperation. "Baby, I'm so—" You met his eyes, his already looking at you, and you knew that was enough to send him to the edge, his release hitting the back of your throat.

You milked him until he had to physically take you out; he watched how you swallowed everything with his eyes hooded in pleasure, how you once again straddled him and hissed at your touch in his sensitive length, guiding him to your pulsing entrance.

The second you sank down onto him, both of you moaned in unison, the adrenaline still pulsing in his veins, the reason why he grabbed your hips and helped you out, grounding both of you.

"Fuck—" just like him, you were sensitive, but the need to have him inside was bigger.

You rolled your hips, getting used to the stretch and length that, no matter how much you had sex with him, your eyes closed as you felt his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs grazing the curve of your breasts. He met your rhythm, a delicious friction building again, his name falling from his lips like a prayer.

He sat up, pressing his chest to yours, arms caging you close as he moved with you — hips snapping up to meet yours faster, his mouth found your shoulder and your neck, biting softly when you clenched around him.

"You feel like heaven, baby," he said, moaning as your nails scratched his back, feeling how intensely your orgasm was creating.

"Don't stop, Jake. Please," you said against his ear, and thankfully, he didn't. His hand gripped the back of your neck as he thrust up into you even harder, pulling more than one gasp from your throat and tears from your eyes due to the pleasure.

The coil inside you twisted tighter again; Jake felt it in the way your body trembled.

"Such a good girl," he stated, and you looked at him, vision blurry due to the intensity of the moment. "Should I let you cum?"

Your lips were parted, barely able to catch your breath. "Please. I need it—I need you."

He delivered a couple of spanks on your ass, high-pitched moans every time he did that, one of his thumbs going straight to your clit to rub again. "Feel that? How deep I am inside you? We are the only ones who get this."

You cried out, climax finally reaching you in a brutal way, your walls tightening around him until his groan rumbled in your ear.

"Cum for me again, love. Let me feel it." You collapse against him as you do it, whimpering his name over and over, the overstimulation almost unreal. Jake held you through it; his own release made his hips stutter as he buried himself one last time.

Your bodies clung together, his cum inside you still, making you feel full of him.

Jake pressed kisses to your temple, brushing away damp strands of his hair from your cheek. "I could miss ten livestreams for you. I'm not joking."

TAGLIST (OPEN): @heesexual74 @vixialuvs @riqomi @beomgyus11 @starry-eyed-bimbo @rawrrxan @veilstqr @k1ttyjwon @fancypeacepersona @kittympirty (COMMENT TO BE ADDED)

You laughed a little, looking at how his eyes were on the walls of the yurt and smiled at you, "I still have time."

─── GUESS WHO IS LEARNING MORE WORDS I've finally been using my dear dictionary more to find synonyms, although it's clear that I'm not risking so much, I'll do it and with better words muk muk

THIS ONE IS DEDICATED TO MY FREAKUENCY TWIN @awqken ☝️💗

#𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗹𝑦𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠! ৎ ˚⋅#enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen jake #jake smut #shim jake smut #enhypen coachella #enchella

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natsaffection · 10 months ago

Note

Im glad i’m not the only one who saw 4ngel1v’s ai pics!! It just brewed up another idea! I told you it would be soon.

Think about Gp Nat as a beefy bodyguard and reader is like a famous singer or actor🤷‍♀️. And they didn’t meet on great terms, but reader ends up hiring nat and whatever it was between them grew. But thing is that they couldn't distinguish their tension from hate. One thing that reader could distinguish though, was Nats jealousy. SO LIKE A YKYK ENEMIES TO LOVERS BUT RLLY SLOW PROCESS TO LOVERS n smuttyy🤭

“What’s with the attitude, you weren’t as grumpy earlier?”

“Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha”

“You’re giving me a handjob at YOUR premiere. We’re thinking of two different versions of risky.”

-💋

I'm not going anywhere. | N.R

Bodyguard!Natasha x Younger!Actress!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, Age gap ( R is 22 and Nat is 32) Inappropriate behavior, so much teasing, kinda handjob, begging, rough sex, pet names, angst

Word Count: 9,5k

A/N: Okay, when this is posted I'll be driving 200 km/h on the highway for the next 36 hours. So I hope everything works out, because I don't have the chance to reply right now 🫶🏼🥸

Thank you my lovely anon, you served again 🌚 I really enjoyed writing this, even though I was very carried away

You were born and raised in a small, picturesque town in the heart of the countryside. Your parents, both teachers, instilled a love of learning and creativity in you from an early age. Your mother, an English teacher, often read you classic literature at bedtime, sparking a lifelong passion for storytelling. Your father, a drama teacher, introduced you to the world of theater and encouraged you to participate in school plays and local theater productions.

As a child, you were curious and imaginative, often inventing elaborate stories and characters in your head. You were very popular in your community for your kind heart and lively personality. Despite your small-town upbringing, you always dreamed of something bigger and longed for the excitement and opportunities that lay beyond the boundaries of your hometown.

At 16, your life took a decisive turn when you attended a summer acting camp. The camp was located in a bustling city, a stark contrast to your quiet hometown. There, you met aspiring actors, directors, and producers and for the first time, felt like you belonged. Your talent was quickly recognized by the camp leaders, who encouraged you to pursue a career in acting.

Upon returning home, you were more determined than ever to follow your dreams. You participated in every theater production you could to hone your craft and build a portfolio of diverse roles. Your parents, though initially concerned about the uncertainty of an acting career, wholeheartedly supported you and believed in your talent and dedication.

At 18, you moved to Los Angeles, the hub of the entertainment industry. The transition was daunting, you were a small-town girl in a sprawling, fast-paced city. You faced numerous rejections and challenges, working several part-time jobs to make ends meet while attending auditions and acting classes.

Your perseverance paid off when you landed a small role in an independent film. Though the role was minor, your performance caught the attention of a prominent casting director. Impressed by your natural talent and screen presence, the director recommended you for an audition for an upcoming blockbuster film from a major studio.

Nervous but excited, you gave your best at the audition. Weeks later, you received the life-changing news: you were cast in the lead role of the blockbuster film. The film was a huge success and catapulted you into the spotlight, making you an overnight sensation.

The sudden fame was overwhelming. You went from an anonymous aspiring actress to a celebrity constantly in the public eye. Paparazzi followed your every move, tabloids speculated about your private life, and fans demanded autographs and selfies everywhere you went. Although you were grateful for your success and the opportunities it brought, the lack of privacy and constant scrutiny were challenging.

Despite the challenges, you remained grounded, thanks to the support of your family and close friends. You continued to focus on your craft, taking on diverse roles to prove your versatility as an actress. You also used your platform to advocate for causes you believed in, earning you respect and admiration beyond your acting abilities

You are known for your down-to-earth personality and genuine kindness. You cherish your close circle of friends and often retreat to your hometown to escape the pressures of Hollywood and reconnect with your roots. Your parents remain your biggest supporters, proud of your achievements but always reminding you of the values they instilled in you.

In your free time, you enjoy reading, painting, and exploring new hobbies. You are a passionate traveler and find inspiration in the various cultures and stories you encounter. Despite your fame, you strive to lead a relatively normal life and appreciate the simple pleasures that keep you grounded.

4 years later.

The evening of the premiere was a whirlwind of flashing cameras, excited fans, and palpable excitement in the air. You, dressed in a stunning gown that perfectly captured your rising star status, had just finished a series of red carpet interviews. You felt a mix of excitement and nerves; this night was special not only because of the premiere of your new film but also because you were nominated for an award for another project. It could be the night you finally take home the coveted trophy.

As the event continued, you felt the familiar but inconvenient need to use the restroom. The premiere was in full swing, and you needed to be on stage soon. You made your way through the bustling crowd, your heels clicking on the polished marble floor of the grand theater.

Finally, you spotted the restroom sign and quickened your pace. But as you reached the door, you encountered an imposing figure: a tall, striking woman with piercing eyes and an aura of authority. Dressed in black, the woman stood guard in front of the restroom door, her stance rigid and alert.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," you said, trying to maintain your polite demeanor despite the urgency of your situation.

The woman, whom you would later learn was Natasha Romanoff, did not move. "The restroom is occupied." Natasha replied sharply and unyieldingly. "Okay, surely there is a second stall..." you pleaded, glancing at the closed door behind Natasha.

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. "You'll wait.“ Your patience was running thin. You were a rising star and not used to being dismissed so abruptly. "Come on, I need to go, please. This is really important."

Natasha's expression remained unmoved, her voice cold and professional. "I don't care where you need to go. My instruction is to ensure no one enters until it's clear. Now step back."

Frustration boiled within you. You couldn't believe this woman didn't recognize you, given the number of posters and billboards plastered with your face. "Listen, I understand you have a job to do, but so do I. And if I can't use the restroom right now, there will be a disaster."

Natasha smiled and leaned in slightly, "Then you'll have to hold it, sweetheart."

You were taken aback by the dismissive tone. You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say anything, the door behind Natasha opened, and another actress emerged, thanking Natasha for her vigilance. The actress’s eyes widened when she saw you.

"Oh my God, Y/N! Congratulations on the nomination, I loved your performance in the last film.“ the women gushed, clearly impressed. You forced a smile, still simmering with frustration. "Thank you. I'd love to chat, but I really need to use the restroom." The women looked at Natasha with a mix of surprise and something different. "Did you talked to her?“

Natasha's gaze remained unwavering and ignoring the question of the Women. „The restroom is free now." she said, stepping aside without acknowledging the women’s comment. You didn't waste a second and hurried past Natasha with a grateful nod. Inside the restroom, you took a moment to breathe, still fuming from the encounter but also somehow fascinated by the unyielding bodyguard.

When you emerged a few minutes later, you felt much calmer. Natasha was still there, like a sentinel. You couldn't help but feel a sense of challenge. You weren't used to being treated like an ordinary person, and part of you found Natasha's attitude both infuriating and refreshing. Without a word, you walked past Natasha, not giving her a second glance. As you walked away, you heard Natasha call after you: "Next time, plan better."

Your cheeks flushed with anger. You clenched your fists and kept walking, refusing to give Natasha the satisfaction of a response. The audacity of this woman! You couldn't believe how rude and dismissive she had been.

The energy in the grand theater was electric. The audience buzzed with excitement as the prestigious awards ceremony reached its climax. You, still feeling the irritation from the encounter with Natasha, took a deep breath as you awaited the announcement of the award. The presenter, a well-known acting veteran, took the stage and held the envelope containing the winner's name. "And the award for Best Actress goes to..." He paused for dramatic effect, letting the suspense build. "Y/N L/N!"

The room erupted in applause and cheers. Your heart raced as you stood up, your initial frustration forgotten in the wave of exhilaration. You moved gracefully to the stage, your gown sparkling under the bright lights. As you accepted the trophy, you couldn't help but smile at the outpouring of admiration and support from your peers and fans.

With the trophy in hand, you took a moment to collect your thoughts before beginning your speech. "Wow, this is incredible. I can hardly believe I'm standing here holding this award. First, I want to thank the cast and crew who made this film possible. You are all amazing, and I couldn't have done this without you."

As you continued your speech, your eyes wandered over the crowd, taking in the sea of faces. Then you saw her. Natasha. Despite the distance, Natasha's piercing gaze was unmistakable. Your smile faltered for a brief moment, but you quickly recovered. Natasha watched you intently, a slight smile on her lips. When your eyes met, Natasha winked.

The gesture, small but significant, sent a wave of annoyance through you. You could feel your cheeks heat up, not from embarrassment, but from the irritating coolness of the woman who had previously dismissed you so rudely. You continued your speech, trying to ignore the irritation under your calm facade.

"...And finally, I want to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support. You believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. This award belongs to you as much as it does to me. Thank you all." With a final wave, you stepped off the stage, your mind racing. The applause followed you, but your thoughts were fixated on Natasha. It was infuriating.

Backstage, you were surrounded by well-wishers and photographers, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Natasha. You couldn't shake the feeling that your paths would cross again in a significant way..

A few days after the awards ceremony, your agent called you with concerning news. "Y/N, we need to talk about your safety for your tour. There have been some..incidents." You frowned, recalling the increasing number of intrusive paparazzi and overly enthusiastic fans. "What kind of incidents?"

"Threatening letters, suspicious individuals trying to get close to you. It's getting serious, and we think it's time for you to consider a professional bodyguard." You sighed. The idea of having a bodyguard felt like a double-edged sword. You valued your privacy, but recent events had made you feel vulnerable. "Alright, who do you have in mind?"

Your agent hesitated for a moment. "There's someone highly recommended, but she has a... unique style. Natasha Romanoff.“ Your eyes widened. "You must be joking."

"No? She's one of the best in the field. Her methods are unconventional, but she gets results. Given the current situation, I think she's the right person for the job, plus she’s available now.“ Your mind raced back to the Gala night, the unyielding stance, the cold demeanor, and that infuriating wink. But if Natasha was as good as they said, it might be worth a try. Reluctantly, you agreed.

The next morning, Natasha arrived punctually at the agreed time at your residence. Dressed in her usual black, she looked every bit the seasoned professional. You opened the door, your expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "So, we meet again." Natasha nodded, her face impassive. "Hello, sweetheart. Patience today?"

You crossed your arms and stood firm. "Just so we're clear, I don't need you to treat me like a child. I can take care of myself." Natasha's lips twitched into a barely perceptible smile. "Noted. But my job is to protect you, even if you don't like my methods." You felt a flicker of the same irritation you had experienced at the Gala. This was going to be an interesting arrangement, to say the least.

A few weeks after the charity gala, you attended a book signing event for one of your favorite authors. The bookstore was packed with fans and media, all eager to catch a glimpse of the rising star. Natasha, as always, was nearby, scanning the crowd for potential threats.

As you chatted with fans and signed autographs, you felt a growing unease. One particular fan, a middle-aged man, lingered closer than seemed appropriate. His intense gaze and the way he approached you made you uncomfortable.

"Hello, can I take a photo with you?" the man asked, his voice overly eager. You forced a polite smile. "Of course," you said, posing for a quick photo. As you tried to move on to the next fan, the man grabbed your arm.

"Wait, you looked so good in the last movie... your style and all..." he said, tightening his grip. Your smile faded, and you tried to pull your arm back. "Please let go."

The man's grip only tightened, and he began reaching into his pocket. Before you could react, Natasha stepped in. She moved with lightning speed, prying the man's hand off your arm and positioning herself between you.

"Step back." Natasha ordered, her voice cold and commanding. The man looked startled but did not move. "I just wanted to give her something!"

Natasha remained unmoved. "I said step back. Now." The intensity in Natasha's eyes and the firmness of her voice finally got through to the man. He stepped back and disappeared into the crowd. Your heart was racing, but you felt a wave of gratitude toward Natasha. "Thank you.." you said, your voice shaking. Natasha nodded, her eyes still scanning the crowd. "Time to go."

At home, you couldn't shake off the day's events. You sat on the couch, replaying the encounter in your mind. Natasha stood nearby, her stance as rigid as ever. "Are you okay?" Natasha asked, her voice softer than usual You nodded. "Yes, just... a bit shaken." Natasha sat across from you, her expression unreadable. "You handled it well. But you need to be more aware of your surroundings. Fans can be unpredictable." You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. "I know. I just didn't expect that."

"That's why I'm here," Natasha said, her tone firm but not unkind. "To expect the unexpected and keep you safe." You looked at Natasha, seeing her in a new light. Despite the rocky start, you realized how much you had come to rely on Natasha's presence. "I appreciate it.“

Natasha gave a crooked smile, a rare expression on her otherwise stoic face. "Just doing my job, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a small smile. "You're impossible, you know that?" Natasha's smile widened. "And you're stubborn. I think we make a good team."

In the following weeks, your relationship developed further. There were still plenty of tensions and your share of arguments, but a mutual respect began to grow. Natasha's relentless professionalism and your determination to live your life on your own terms created a dynamic that was both challenging and oddly comforting.

One evening, as you were preparing for another public appearance and saw the crowds you had to move through, you stood closer to Natasha, her presence calming you. Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips forming a teasing smile. "Careful, princess, it almost looks like you actually like me." You laughed and shook your head. "Don't push it, Romanoff. But, since you're here..." Natasha's smile softened a bit. "Anytime."

Despite the nicknames and teasing, there was an unspoken understanding between you both and you couldn't deny Natasha's skills and dedication. Natasha, for all her toughness, began to see the determination and drive behind your fame and youth that had brought you to this point. Slowly, you began to understand each other and formed an uneasy alliance.

Next up was another film premiere, where you were the guest of honor. The tension between you was palpable again, fueled by your contrasting personalities and constant proximity.

While you were getting ready, you felt Natasha's eyes on you, checking every detail. "You know, you don't have to watch me like a hawk." you said, your tone sharper than intended. Natasha leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "It's my job to watch you."

"I can take care of myself." you snapped, turning fully to face her. Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Really? Because from where I stand, you've been pretty naive about the dangers around you."

You felt stung by the implication. "Naive? Just because I'm younger doesn't mean I'm clueless. I've worked hard to get here, and I don't need you undermining me." Natasha pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer. "And I don't need you questioning my every move. You hired me to protect you, and that's what I'm doing. If you don't like my methods, find someone else."

You glared at her, frustration boiling within you. "Maybe I will! I can't stand you treating me like a burden." Natasha's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger. "You think I enjoy this? Looking after a spoiled little girl who doesn't appreciate what I do?"

The words hurt more than you cared to admit, and tears sprang to your eyes. "I'm definitely not spoiled! You don't know anything about me! And you know what? You are i-impossible, Natasha! I've had enough of your condescending attitude."

Natasha took a deep breath, clearly trying to rein in her temper. "Fine. Maybe I'm impossible. But at least I'm doing my job. You want to fire me? Go ahead. But don't come to me when everything falls apart."

You refused to let your tears fall. But Natasha saw them. "You're so arrogant... Do you even care about anything other than your job?" For a moment, Natasha's eyes softened, and you thought you saw a hint of regret, but it was gone in an instant. "I care about keeping you alive, even if you don't see it."

You turned away, struggling to compose yourself. "Just leave me alone for a moment." Natasha gave a curt nod and walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You felt a mix of anger and guilt, knowing that despite everything, Natasha was right. The world you lived in was dangerous, and you needed someone like her to protect you.

Later that evening, you stood on the balcony of your hotel room, staring at the city lights. The day's events played over in your mind, and you felt a pang of guilt for the harsh words you'd thrown at Natasha. You heard the door open and turned to see Natasha, her expression unreadable. "Can I join you?" Natasha asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. You nodded, and Natasha stepped onto the balcony, leaning against the railing next to you.

"I'm sorry," you said after a moment of silence. "For what I said earlier. I didn't mean it." Natasha glanced at you, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have called you naive... and a little girl." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "It's just... this whole situation is new to me, okay? I'm not used to someone constantly having to watch over me."

"I know," Natasha said quietly. "And I'm not used to working with someone so... spirited as you. But I'm here to protect you, Y/N. Whether you like it or not." You couldn't help but laugh. "Spirited, huh? That's one way to put it." Natasha's smile widened. "You're tough, I'll give you that. But you need to trust me."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I trust you. Even if you drive me crazy sometimes." Natasha chuckled. "The feeling is mutual, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a smile. "Thank you, Natasha."

"Anytime," Natasha replied, her tone sincere. She looked at you, and before you could think too much about it, you turned and impulsively kissed Natasha on the lips. Natasha stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss, her lips moving confidently against yours.

Your heart raced as you kissed Natasha, a surprising warmth flooding through you. As you pulled back slightly, you felt something firm press against your hip. Your eyes widened in surprise as you realized what it was. Natasha smirked, clearly noticing your reaction.

"Surprised?" Natasha asked, her voice deep and teasing. You nodded, still a bit stunned. "A little. I didn't see that coming.“ Natasha's smirk widened, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Well, I'm full of surprises."

You felt a blush creep over your cheeks, but you couldn't help but joke to cover your own nervousness. "Didn't know bodyguards got excited so easily." Natasha's eyes darkened with something more than just amusement. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Only when it's worth it."

Your breath caught as Natasha's hand lightly traced over your back, sending shivers down your spine. Natasha's presence was overwhelming, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. Natasha leaned over you slightly, her lips brushing your ear. "You're playing a dangerous game, princess," she murmured, her voice husky with desire.

Your cheeks burned, and you felt a wave of excitement that both thrilled and embarrassed you. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Natasha straightened up, an amused glint in her eyes as she stepped back. "Get some rest," Natasha said, her voice returning to its usual calm tone. "You have a big day tomorrow."

With that, Natasha turned and walked back into the hotel room, leaving you standing on the balcony, your mind racing and your body buzzing with emotions. As you stood there, the cool night air brushing your skin, you knew that things between you and Natasha would never be the same again. When you lay down that night, replaying the memory of the kiss and Natasha's teasing words, you couldn't help but smile, your heart racing with excitement and curiosity about what the future would bring.

Your schedule had become a whirlwind of appearances, interviews, and fan interactions as you toured to promote your latest film. Everywhere you went, enthusiastic fans awaited you, clamoring for autographs and selfies. Natasha was always close by.

One afternoon, you were at a signing event in a busy city. The line of fans stretched around the block, and you took time with each person, chatting and taking photos. However, Natasha noticed a pattern: you were livelier and smiled brighter when interacting with your female fans. It was something you did unconsciously, but Natasha picked up on it.

During a break, Natasha couldn't resist commenting. "You really come alive around the ladies, don't you, princess?" she said, her tone teasing but with a hint of something else. You raised an eyebrow, noting the subtle undertone in Natasha's voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" Natasha shrugged, a smirking smile on her lips. "Just an observation. You seem to enjoy their company more."

You felt a spark of defiance. Remembering the balcony scene and Natasha's teasing nature, you decided to push it further. If Natasha wanted to tease you, you'd give her a taste of her own medicine. "Maybe I do," you said, your tone playful. "Is that a problem?" Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, but she maintained her cool demeanor. "Not at all. Just interesting to watch."

You decided to take it up a notch. For the rest of the event, you made an extra effort to be even more attentive with your female fans. You laughed louder, leaned in closer for photos, and gave their conversations more attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Natasha watching, her jaw tensing slightly.

You found it immensely amusing. You liked seeing the usually unflappable Natasha show a bit of emotion, especially jealousy. It gave you a sense of power in your otherwise tense dynamic.

Later that evening, you returned to the hotel. You were in high spirits, still buoyed by the interactions of the day and the success of your plan to annoy Natasha. As you entered the hotel suite, Natasha finally spoke. "You really enjoyed today, didn't you?“ You turned to her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I did. It was a lot of fun. Especially to see how you lose your composure"

Natasha's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and something deeper. "My composure? I have not lost my composure." You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. "Sure looked like it to me." Natasha's gaze hardened, but there was no denying the hint of jealousy there. "Careful, Y/N."

You felt a thrill at the challenge in Natasha's voice. "Nope." Natasha stepped closer, the tension between you crackling like electricity. "You're testing my patience." You smiled, enjoying the power you held in this moment. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire, and she stepped closer, her body only inches from yours. "Do you really want to know?" Your heart pounded in your chest, the air between you thick with tension. "Maybe I do.“ Natasha leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Don't forget who you're playing with, princess. I don't give in easily."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you refused to back down. "Good. Neither do I." Natasha's smile widened, and for a moment, you thought she would kiss you again. But when Natasha turned and walked away, you couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and excitement. You had pushed Natasha's buttons and gotten a reaction, but you knew that this game you were playing was far from over.

In the following days, you continued to tease Natasha, finding new ways to provoke her jealousy. You found it incredibly amusing to see the normally composed bodyguard show signs of possessiveness. And despite the tension, there was an undeniable thrill in your interactions. Natasha seemed to enjoy the challenge as well. She never backed down and always met your provocations with her own brand of teasing and intensity. Your relationship was a constant back-and-forth, filled with playful banter and underlying desire.

The evening of the final premiere had arrived, and you were in your hotel suite, getting ready for the event. Your hair and makeup team were putting the finishing touches on your look, ensuring every detail was perfect. You wore a stunning dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, the shimmering fabric catching the light beautifully. You looked every bit the star you were, ready to captivate the crowd and cameras.

As you admired your reflection in the mirror, the door to your suite opened. Natasha walked in, looking as composed and confident as ever. She wore her usual black ensemble but had her jacket casually slung over her shoulder, and her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of her toned chest. The sight made your heart skip a beat, and you hated yourself for finding Natasha so attractive.

Natasha's eyes scanned over you appreciatively, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, don't you look like a million dollars tonight." You rolled your eyes and tried to hide your blush. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."

Natasha chuckled and stepped closer. "You really know how to turn heads, princess. Try not to cause too many heart attacks out there." You felt a mix of irritation and something warmer, more exciting. "I'll do my best." you said, your tone half teasing, half serious. Natasha's smile widened. "Remember, I'm here to protect you. Can't have you distracting me too much." You laughed and shook your head. "I'll try not to be too much of a distraction."

Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she nodded. "Good. Ready to go?" You took a deep breath and cast one last look in the mirror. "Ready."

The red carpet was a flurry of activity, with flashing cameras and cheering fans. You moved gracefully through the crowd, stopping for interviews and photos. Natasha was always nearby, her eyes scanning the surroundings for potential threats. Despite the busy environment, your mind was elsewhere. You had been thinking about the ongoing game with Natasha, the back-and-forth of your interactions, and the growing tension between you. Tonight, you decided, you would take it a step further.

As you entered the theater for the premiere, you could feel the electricity in the air. You excused yourself from the group of people you were with and moved to a quieter part of the lobby. Natasha followed you, her vigilant eyes missing nothing. "Everything okay?" Natasha asked, her tone professional but with a hint of curiosity. You turned to her, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, I just needed a moment. It's so hectic out there."

Natasha nodded, her stance relaxed but alert. "You should have thought of that before." You stepped closer, your hand lightly brushing Natasha's arm. "You weren't so grumpy earlier. What's with the attitude now?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. "I'm not grumpy. I'm just doing my job." You smiled, your hand sliding down to Natasha's waist, your fingers tracing the edge of her pants. “Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha.”

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire as she realized your intentions. "You're giving me a handjob at your premiere. We're thinking of two different versions of risk." You leaned in, your breath warm against Natasha's ear. "Maybe I like my version better." Your hand moved bolder, stroking over the bulge in Natasha's pants. Natasha gasped, but quickly placed her hand over yours to stop your movements. Her grip was firm, and a smirking smile played on her lips as she leaned closer, her voice a soft, seductive whisper.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Natasha murmured, her breath hot against your ear. "If you keep this up, I'll have you on your knees, begging for more. I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a week." Your heart raced at Natasha's words, a shiver running down your spine. You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness, your breath hitching.

Natasha stepped back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. "You have no idea what you're getting into, princess." You tried to regain your composure. "Then show me." Natasha's smile turned dangerous and seductive. "Not here. Not now."

Your heart raced, your mind buzzing with anticipation. You stepped back slightly, your eyes meeting Natasha's. "When then?" Natasha's smile was dangerous and seductive. "You'll see." You felt a thrill run through you. You had challenged Natasha, and now you were ready for whatever came next. As you returned to the premiere, the tension between you was palpable, an unspoken promise of things to come.

The premiere went smoothly, but your and Natasha's thoughts were elsewhere. The silent promise you had exchanged hung between you, intensifying every glance, every touch. As the event came to an end, you felt both excited and nervous about what would happen next. Natasha's presence, as always, was a calming force, but now it was charged with a new kind of tension.

As you finally returned to the hotel, you couldn't resist teasing Natasha one last time. "So, what's next, bodyguard? Do you still think I'm playing a dangerous game?" Natasha's eyes were dark with promise as she stepped closer. "Oh, princess, the game has only just begun." You felt a shiver of excitement. "Good. I wouldn't want it any other way."

You turned to head to your room, thinking you had the upper hand. But before you could take more than a few steps, Natasha grabbed your arm and effortlessly swung you over her shoulder. You gasped in surprise as Natasha carried you into the bedroom.

"Natasha! W-What are you doing!?" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and excitement. Natasha didn't answer immediately. Instead, she gave you a quick, firm smack on your butt, making you gasp. "You wanted to play games, princess. Now it's my turn." Your heart raced as Natasha carried you into the bedroom and tossed you onto the bed. Natasha stood at the foot of the bed, removing her jacket and unbuttoning her blouse with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving yours.

"You've been teasing me all night," Natasha said, her voice deep and commanding. "Now it's time to show you what happens when you play with fire." You felt a wave of heat wash over you as you watched Natasha undress. You bit your lip, your breath catching in anticipation.

Natasha climbed onto the bed, her movements predatory and deliberate. She leaned over you, her hands pinning your wrists above your head as she kissed you deeply and possessively. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's. She broke the kiss, her lips brushing your ear. "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Your faces were only inches apart, and you could feel Natasha's breath on your skin. The tension between you crackled like electricity, a mix of anger and desire. Your teasing had always been a game to provoke Natasha, but now, faced with the intensity of Natasha's gaze, you realized how far you had pushed her.

"You drive me crazy, Y/N," Natasha whispered, her voice rough. "Now it's my turn." Your heart skipped a beat, your body trembling with anticipation. "Then don't hold back, please.." you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. Natasha's smile widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Oh, I don't plan to."

Natasha's lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's, your skin tingling with the intensity of the moment. Natasha's hands moved purposefully, one sliding down your side, her fingertips tracing the hem of your dress before slipping underneath.

You gasped into the kiss as Natasha's fingers drew patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. You had never experienced such a touch, so firm, so assured. It was as if Natasha knew exactly how to unravel you. "Natasha.." you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "Please..." Natasha pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her gaze fierce and intense. "Oh, I like that. Please what?" she demanded, her tone commanding.

"Please... more.." you begged, your body aching for Natasha's touch. A satisfied smile spread across Natasha’s face as she obliged, her fingers finding their way to your most sensitive spots, drawing moans and gasps from you that filled the room. Your world narrowed to the sensation of Natasha's touch, your body responding with an intensity you had never known.

Natasha's hands moved expertly, teasing and pleasing you until you trembled with desire. Just as you thought you couldn't take anymore, Natasha pulled back slightly, her gaze dark and full of promise. "You're not ready for what's coming next," Natasha said, her voice deep and husky. She stood up, her movements intentionally slow, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

You watched with wide eyes as Natasha unbuckled her belt, your gaze following her every move. As Natasha's pants fell to the floor, you caught your breath. There, proud and ready, was Natasha's member. Natasha reached into her pocket and pulled out a condom, rolling it on with practiced ease.

"You were prepared," you teased, your voice breathless. "Did you know the night would end like this?" Natasha gave you a sly smile. "I had a feeling. And by the end of the night, you won't have that attitude anymore."

Your body responded to Natasha's words, a mix of excitement and anticipation coursing through you. Natasha climbed back onto the bed, positioning herself between your legs. She leaned in to capture your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body, stoking the flames of desire even higher.

As Natasha slowly entered you, you gasped at the sensation, your body arching into hers. The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced, a perfect blend of pleasure and connection. Natasha moved with a careful rhythm, watching your reactions to ensure every movement brought you joy. "Do you like that?" Natasha whispered, her voice deep and rough. "Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Y-Yes, oh God, yes.." you moaned, your hands clutching at Natasha's back, your nails digging into her skin as waves of pleasure washed over you. "Good," Natasha growled, increasing her pace slightly. "Because I'm not stopping until you've learned your lesson." Your breath grew heavy, your moans louder with each thrust. Natasha's lips found your neck, kissing you, making you tremble. Natasha's hand slipped between you, her fingers brushing over your clit in teasing, light touches.

"Natasha!" you gasped, your body jolting at the sudden rush of pleasure. "Please, stop..."

"Just a taste of your own medicine," Natasha murmured, her voice a husky whisper against your skin. She kept her slow, torturous rhythm, her fingers lightly dancing over your sensitive spot, driving you wild with desire. Your frustration mingled with your arousal, the teasing making you desperate. "Please, Natasha... I need more.." you begged, your voice trembling.

Natasha's smile deepened, savoring your pleading. "You need to learn that actions have consequences," she said, her pace increasing, each thrust deeper and harder. "Is this what you wanted, Y/N? To be dominated, made to beg?"

"Yes, yes!" you whimpered, your body arching, seeking more. "Please, Natasha, I need you..“ Seeing your desperation, Natasha finally relented. She increased her pace, her thrusts becoming rougher, harder. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. You love being fucked like this, don't you?"

„God.." you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

"I'm not," Natasha promised, her voice rough with desire. She began slowly, her thrusts gentle and deliberate, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. Each movement was measured, designed to build the pleasure slowly. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. I told you how it would end."

"Oh God!" you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop..“ Natasha's breath came heavy, her movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to take everything I give you," she growled. "And you're going to love it." Natasha's eyes burned with a mix of desire and something deeper. "Turn around," she commanded, her voice rough. "I want to take you from behind."

You complied, your body trembling with anticipation. Natasha positioned herself behind you, her hands gripping your hips firmly. With one swift motion, Natasha entered you again, the new angle sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. "God, you feel so good," Natasha groaned, her pace rough and relentless. "Do you like this, Y/N? Do you like being fucked like this?"

"Yes, Natasha, y-yees.." you cried, your body pushing back against each thrust. "Harder, please, harder..“ Natasha's grunts filled the room, her movements becoming more powerful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. "Fuck, what would your fans say if they saw you like this?" she growled.

Your world was a whirl of sensations, your body burning with pleasure. "Please, please, please!" you gasped, your voice breaking with need. "Please, I'm so close.."

Natasha's hands slid to your shoulders, pulling you back with each thrust, her pace unrelenting. "I want to see your face when you come," Natasha demanded, her voice rough. You turned, your eyes meeting Natasha's intense gaze. Natasha didn't break the connection, her thrusts deep and powerful, her eyes locked on yours. "You're so beautiful," Natasha murmured, her voice filled with raw emotion. "Come for me, Y/N. I want to see you come."

Your body obeyed, the intensity of Natasha's gaze and the power of her movements driving you over the edge. You called out Natasha's name, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm, your eyes never leaving Natasha's. She followed you, her own orgasm hitting her hard, her body tensing with the release. She held you close, your bodies entwined, the intensity of your connection overwhelming.

When it was over, Natasha collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. You looked up at Natasha, your eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. "That was... incredible," you whispered, your voice shaking. Natasha smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You're incredible," she replied softly, her touch now tender, filled with affection.

You snuggled into Natasha's embrace, feeling safe. You had challenged Natasha, teased her, but now you understood the depth of it and the passion that lay beneath your banter. It was a night you would indeed never forget.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered gently through the curtains of your hotel room, casting a warm glow across the bed. You stirred slowly, a pleasant ache in your muscles reminding you of the intense connection you had shared with Natasha the previous night. A contented smile spread across your face as you replayed the events in your mind. The way Natasha had made you feel cherished and desired was unlike anything you had experienced before.

As you stretched lazily, you noticed Natasha already up and moving around the room, her movements efficient and purposeful as she dressed in her black uniform. Still feeling the warmth of the night, you sat up and instinctively pulled the blanket around you.

Natasha caught sight of your movement and smirked. "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've already seen everything." You felt a blush rise to your cheeks but managed a small smile. "Force of habit, I guess." Natasha chuckled softly and walked over to the bed, sitting down beside you. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"

You leaned into her touch, savoring the intimacy. "Good. Better than good, actually." Natasha's smile softened, and she pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Good. We've got a busy day ahead. Remember, it's the final interview for the film today." You nodded, the reality of the day settling in. "Right. The last interview." Natasha's eyes searched yours, a hint of concern flickering in them. "Are you ready for it?"

You sighed, feeling a pang of anxiety. "I think so. Just... nervous, I guess." Natasha squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You'll do great. And I'll be right there with you."

As Natasha continued getting ready, you reached for your phone on the nightstand. Unlocking it, you saw a barrage of notifications. Among the messages was one from a close friend, marked urgent. Curiosity piqued, you opened the message thread.

The message read: "Y/N, have you seen these articles? Be careful with Natasha Romanoff. She's got a reputation." Attached were several links to articles and gossip columns detailing Natasha's past relationships, her numerous one-night stands, and her professional life as a bodyguard. The headlines screamed warnings about her dangerous allure and the trail of broken hearts she had left behind.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the articles, each one chipping away at the happiness you had felt just moments before. The friend’s message continued: "I just don't want to see you get hurt. She might be good at her job, but she's also known for not sticking around."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind: "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything." What if you were just another conquest for her? The memory of her passionate words from last night seemed suddenly tainted "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Natasha noticed the shift in your expression and the way you had gone quiet, your eyes glued to your phone. "Y/N, is everything okay?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. You quickly locked your phone and forced a smile. "Yeah, just... some messages." But the seed of doubt had been planted. Despite your efforts to focus, the words from the articles lingered in your mind. Was last night just another notch on Natasha's belt?

As you got ready, Natasha left you alone for a moment to gather your thoughts. The anxiety gnawed at you, turning the warmth you had felt into a cold pit in your stomach.

The day passed in a blur of preparations and travel to the interview location. Your mind kept drifting back to the articles, the warnings, the doubt. By the time you arrived at the studio, the unease had settled deep within you.

When the time for the interview finally arrived, you found yourself sitting in a brightly lit studio, facing a well-known interviewer. The cameras rolled, and the interview began. You tried to concentrate, but your mind kept wandering, haunted by the headlines and Natasha's reputation. "So, Y/N, this film has been a huge success. How has the journey been for you?" You forced a smile, trying to gather your thoughts. "It's been incredible. The cast and crew were amazing, and I learned so much."

But even as you spoke, you couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's voice from last night"Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Can you share any particularly memorable moments from the set?" You hesitated, your mind momentarily blank. "Uh, there were so many great moments. I think... the camaraderie we shared off-camera was really special."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything."

"What are your plans after this film? Any new projects in the pipeline?" You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. "I'm exploring a few options, but nothing's set in stone yet."

Natasha's concern earlier replayed in your mind "Are you ready for it?" The interview continued, but your responses grew increasingly mechanical. Natasha, standing just off-camera, noticed the shift in your demeanor. Her brow furrowed with concern as she watched you, sensing something was wrong. She began to worry that she had overstepped last night, that perhaps she had pushed you too far.

When the interview finally concluded, you left the studio feeling drained and unsettled. Natasha was by your side immediately, her eyes filled with worry. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Natasha asked, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Did something happen during the interview?"

You shook your head, avoiding her gaze. "No, it's not that. I just... need some space right now." Natasha's heart clenched at your words. She followed you silently back to the hotel, the worry gnawing at her. Had she misread the signals? Had she taken things too far last night? The thought of having hurt you in any way made her feel sick.

Back in the hotel room, you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Natasha hovered nearby, her concern evident "Y/N, please talk to me," Natasha said softly. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong." You took a deep breath, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm.. scared, Natasha..“

Natasha's heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice. She stepped closer, her hand gently cupping your cheek. "Scared of what? Talk to me, please." You finally met her gaze, the tears spilling over. "I'm scared that last night... that it was just a one-time thing for you. That you only wanted me for my body."

Natasha's eyes widened in shock, and she immediately knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. "W-What?“ You reluctantly lifted your gaze to hers, seeing the sincerity and depth of her feelings reflected in her eyes. "Last night was not just a one-time thing for me," Natasha said firmly. "I didn't just want you for your body. You mean so much more to me than that."

You searched her eyes, your voice trembling. "But what if... what if this changes things between us? What if it's just a fling?" Natasha shook her head, her grip on your hands gentle but steady. "It won't be. Because I care about you, Y/N. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. Last night meant everything to me, and I don't want it to end there." Tears flowed freely now, and Natasha wiped them away with her thumbs, her gaze never leaving yours.

"But what about all these articles and rumors about you?" you asked, the fear and doubt still lingering in your voice. "They say you've had so many one-night stands and relationships that didn't last. How do I know I'm not just another one?" Natasha sighed deeply, her expression turning serious. "Do you remember the actress you met at the restroom at the Gala?" You nodded, recalling the striking woman who had seemed so authoritative.

"Her name is Jessica," Natasha continued. "We were in a relationship a few month ago. It was toxic and manipulative. When I finally managed to leave her, she was furious. She threatened to ruin my reputation if I ever left her." Natasha pulled out her phone and showed you a message thread. "Here, look at this." She scrolled to a particular message and handed you the phone. The message read:

"If you leave, I will destroy your life, your reputation, everything, Natasha. No one will ever trust you again."

You felt a chill run down your spine as you read the words. Natasha's voice was steady but filled with pain. "She's the one who started those rumors and spread the articles. I'm already taking legal action against her, but these things take time."

You looked up at Natasha, seeing the sincerity and anguish in her eyes. "I had no idea..." Natasha cupped your face gently. "I would never use you, Y/N. What we have is real, and I want to protect it. Protect you. Please believe me."

You searched her eyes, feeling the sincerity in her words. "But how can I be sure?" Natasha's grip on your hands tightened, her gaze unwavering. "Because I'm standing here, telling you this. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be with you, not just for a night, but for as long as you'll have me."

You felt a flood of relief and emotion wash over you. "I want that too, Natasha. I just... I needed to know." Natasha pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." You clung to her, feeling the warmth and strength of her presence. The fear and doubt that had plagued you melted away in the face of Natasha's unwavering support.

As the day continued, you felt a renewed sense of connection and understanding with Natasha. The bond between you had deepened, forged through honesty and vulnerability. With the whirlwind of your film promotion tour finally over, you felt a mix of relief and excitement as you arrived back at your home. For the first time in months, you had some well-deserved time off. Natasha, your steadfast bodyguard, was right by your side as you walked through the front door of your cozy house.

"Home sweet home.." you sighed, dropping your bags and stretching your arms. The familiar surroundings brought a sense of peace that you had missed during your hectic schedule.

Natasha smiled, leaning against the doorway. "It's nice to see you relax." You turned to her, a question lingering in your mind. "So, what happens now? Do you move on to another client with a tour or something?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Actually, I took some time off too."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You took time off to stay here?" Natasha nodded, stepping closer. "Yes, I wanted to spend more time with you. I meant what I said a few days ago, Y/N."

A wave of warmth and happiness washed over you. "You really do care," you whispered, feeling your heart swell with affection. Natasha cupped your face gently, her eyes soft and sincere. "I care a lot, and I want to make the most of this time we have together."

The next few days were blissful. You and Natasha spent time just enjoying each other's company, something you hadn't been able to do during the tour. The bond between you grew stronger, built on trust and genuine affection. One lazy afternoon, as you lounged on the couch together, you started discussing potential vacation destinations. "We should go somewhere special," you suggested, scrolling through various travel websites on your laptop. "How about a trip to a secluded beach resort? Just the two of us."

Natasha leaned in, looking at the screen. "That sounds perfect." You found a beautiful resort that offered private bungalows by the ocean and various activities for couples. "This one looks amazing," you said excitedly. "Let me book it."

Before you could click the "book now" button, the doorbell rings, "Food is here!" You sprint over and meanwhile Natasha took the laptop and made the booking. When you come back with two pizza boxes, you pouted playfully. "Hey! I wanted to pay for it!“ Natasha chuckled, pulling you into her arms. "I know, but I wanted to do this for us." You gave her a mock glare. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Natasha silenced you with a gentle kiss, her lips soft and tender against yours. "Shush," she whispered against your lips. "Let me take care of you for once." You melted into her embrace, feeling the love and care she poured into every touch and kiss. "Okay," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. "I guess I can let you spoil me this time."

The anticipation of your upcoming trip added an extra layer of excitement to your days. You spent your time planning activities and daydreaming about the sun, sand, and sea. The more you got to know Natasha in this relaxed setting, the more you realized how deeply you felt for her. As the departure date for your vacation approached, you and Natasha packed your bags with a mix of excitement and eagerness. The thought of being in a beautiful, secluded place with her made your heart race.

Finally, the day arrived, and you both boarded the plane to your dream destination. The flight was smooth, filled with laughter and light conversations about the adventures you planned to have. Upon landing, you were greeted with warm ocean breezes and the sound of waves crashing on the shore.

Your bungalow was even more beautiful than the pictures, nestled right on the beach with a stunning view of the turquoise waters. As you stepped inside, you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you. "This is perfect," you sighed, looking out at the ocean from the large windows. Natasha wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. "It really is. I'm glad we're here together."

You turned in her arms, looking up at her with a smile. "Me too. Thank you for everything, Natasha." She leaned down and kissed you softly. "Anything for you, Princess." The days that followed were filled with pure bliss. You and Natasha spent your time exploring the beach, swimming in the crystal-clear waters, and enjoying romantic dinners under the stars. Each moment felt like a precious gift, strengthening the bond you shared.

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month ago

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talking about married ladies, it is quite interesting that georgina doesn't wear a ring! if you look at princess leah, she has a ring on her left hand's ring finger; but if you look at maleanor, who's also married, she wears a ring on her right hand's middle finger! this makes me wonder if different races have different wedding ring customs! personally, it made me think that merfolk just dont wear rings as proof of marriage; in the little mermaid prequel, for example, ariel's mother and father wear no rings despite being married (i think???) anyway, i hope we find out more about this what do you think? are there any other married characters that come to mind?

I don’t have any comment on the actual Disney characters and whether or not they wear rings and in a consistent place after marriage; I’m of the opinion that even if I checked this, details that are true in the Disney versions do not always translate over to Twst. We also can’t tell what are animation errors or not, especially granted that it’s usually the lower budget sequels or prequels that show married characters.

Traditionally, a wedding ring would be worn on your left hand’s ring finger (fourth finger from the thumb). The only Twst parent to be wearing a ring like this is Queen Leah.

As someonetwisted said, Maleanor wears a ring on her right hand's middle finger. This could be indicative of different races having different traditions when it comes to where their wedding ring is worn--however, because we have seen so few married fae + merpeople and no married beastmen to compare to, it's unclear whether this is the case or if Maleanor's ring is just something she wears as a sign of opulence as a princess.

The only other fae I can think of is Baur, but it's not obvious if he was married or not at the time of Lilia's time as a general. Even if Baur were married during that era, his armor would make it difficult to wear a ring:

This is probably also why the Dawn Knight wears no ring. However, I do believe that if you extract the in-game assets, he is shown to be wearing a wedding band under his armor.

Lilia, who is a single parent and never got married, of course wears no ring. (It would also be odd to pass as a high school student while you’re wearing a wedding ring/j)

Then we have Dylla and Eric Venue, who may have been married at one point or (for whatever reason) are no longer with their partner. Neither wear rings, which could be because they never actually married or have split up with or lost their spouses in some other way. It could be something practical though?

For Dylla, a ring might get in the way of her truck driving and delivering goods. She may not want to wear something “fancy” for such a physically demanding and casual job. For Eric, a celebrity, he wouldn’t want the public to know he is already taken or has been with a woman in a physical capacity. This is especially the case because Vil doesn’t want people to know about their familial connection and claim he only has his success due to nepotism.

When it comes to parents who are happily married, there's the Clovers (from the Heartslabyul manga!) and Mr. and Mrs. Shroud.

You can't see Mrs. Clover's hands, but Mr. Clover appears to wear no ring. I'm going to assume Mrs. Clover is the same. Again, I see this as a practical thing. Wearing a ring while making baked goods seems unsanitary.

Mr. and Mrs. Shroud wear gloves, but no rings. I'm not as certain about this one, but maybe Mr. Shroud avoids wearing a ring due to workplace professionalism? He does seem to be the more serious one of the duo.

As for Mrs. Shroud, maybe she foregoes the ring (despite being so love-dovey) in case it gets in the way of her job...? I'm not sure how tech stuff works, but my thought is that this would be to avoid the metal or gem of the ring interfering with whatever she's inventing in case they come in contact. Or maybe she just wants to match with her husband?

The only married merperson we know of right now is, of course, Georgina, who wears no ring:

One proposed (kek, get the pun?) reason as to why this is is that every race has different traditions or customs to indicate being taken. However, I wonder if there's another reason...?

If you look at the true form of a moray eel merperson, they have webbed fingers. This would make it extremely difficult to wear a ring. (I should point out that the more humanoid merpeople, like the Atlantica Memorial Museum guards, do NOT have webbed fingers, so it would be possible for them to wear rings.)

It seems tedious for morays to keep a ring prepared just to slip on every time you visit the land. It also feels like a small thing like the ring would be easily washed away by the waves. And how frequently would you be going to land, anyway? Would this extra effort be worth it??

I also think it’s entirely possible that Georgina doesn’t wear a ring because it goes against glove etiquette. Yes, there is such a thing 😂

In glove etiquette, you are not supposed to wear a ring over your gloves. This just is not done, I’m assuming because it can mess with the fabric. (Besides, rings are measured to fit your finger, without taking gloves into consideration!) It’s also not advisable to wear rings under your gloves, as this would ruin the smooth silhouette with an unsightly lump.

Another component of glove etiquette is the length: shorter gloves are appropriate for cocktail parties and more informal occasions, while gloves that extend past elbow length (which is true of Georgina’s outfit) are for formal occasions. Since Georgina does appear to be formally dressed and in attendance for an acquaintance’s pre-wedding festivities + is a well put-together woman, it’s not too far-fetched to assume she doesn’t have a ring on in order to conform with the etiquette.

We probably won’t see Mr. Leech this event, but maybe in a future one! That’s probably when Floyd gets his “hometown” (a bit of a misnomer, since Ultramarine City and Maquillaville aren’t Jade or Vil’s respecrive hometowns) SSR. I always thought that Jade took after his dad since Mr. Leech stresses the importance of proper dress and attitude… but hey, maybe he’s got a bit of loose cannon in him like Floyd??

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bellaxgiornata · 9 days ago

Text

Not Like Before Chapter One

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Fic Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; nurse!Reader, canon-divergence (no Abel or Thomas), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, girl dad Jax

a/n: Since y'all devoured the first part and seem incredibly into this series already, I figured I'd give y'all the first real chapter because I've got like six other Jax fic drafts sitting around now! Also, don't be like Ope and drive when you've been drinking. Dividers by the lovely @secretlysamcro.

series tag list: @kmc1989 @secretlysamcro @chloe-skywalker @cindsvibes @aussiefangirl95 @sjester42-blog @danzer8705 @uknowmesstuff @mmarysha @shiggynuggiez @stevie75 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @kaydallas21 @orymgraves @unholycheesesnack @livewaspsblog @leather-n-velvet

Between the loud music and the drunken shouting of everyone over it, the noise mixed with the haze of cigarette smoke lingering in the air made the clubhouse feel suffocating tonight. Throwing back the rest of his beer, Jax couldn't take it anymore. Everything was giving him a damn headache after how long he’d been on the road for the past couple of days, and for some goddamn reason, he didn’t really feel like partying tonight. All he wanted was to drink a few beers and unwind from the long run, oddly not craving the usual wild chaos that came with the club.

“Gonna go have a smoke,” Jax told Opie as he slipped off the bar stool. “Too fuckin’ loud in here.”

“I'll join you, brother,” Opie said. “Need to get back to Lyla and the kids soon, anyway. Been gone all weekend.”

Opie raised his glass to his lips, downing the rest of his drink. Jax nodded at him before turning, heading straight for the clubhouse door. As Jax pushed it open and stepped out into the lot, Opie caught up and followed right behind him out into the cool night.

Unfortunately, the lot outside was just as loud as it had been inside with how many people had come out to the party tonight. Maneuvering his way around friends of the club and a handful of croweaters, all of which were completely wasted by this point, Jax led Opie further away from the few picnic tables the group outside was drinking around. Some of the guys were sitting on the tables and smoking a cigarette, while a couple of the girls looked like they’d already passed out face down on the surface of it from all the booze and who knew what else.

Tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration for the Sons’. They had just returned from a successful run delivering quite a few high end assault rifles to a buyer up near Oregon, and thankfully, they'd completed the run with minimal issues. The only problem they’d encountered was Chibs’ fall from his bike, and that had been due to some asshole just outside of Charming not paying attention to the road and nothing related to club business. Unfortunately for Chibs, that meant he was missing the party tonight while he spent a few days recovering at St. Thomas.

As they walked, Jax’s gaze skimmed over a few of the drunken girls that were stumbling over themselves in the parking lot, unable to refrain from a small grin slipping onto his lips as he eyed all the bits of skin revealed by their short, tight outfits. When one of the girls looked over and caught his eye, he shot her a wink. Behind him, Opie chuckled and shook his head at the way the girl had sent Jax a suggestive look in return.

“Thought you wanted a smoke and to get away from all the damn noise,” Opie commented, still following after Jax. “If you've got other plans for while you're out here, I don't wanna be around for them.”

“Relax, Ope,” Jax replied, leaning against the wall of the clubhouse further away from the group. Slipping his hand into the inside of his kutte, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes. “Not lookin’ for that right now. They're a little too drunk for my liking, anyway. I just like seeing the looks on their faces when I tease ‘em a little.”

He pulled a cigarette out of the pack, slipping it between his lips as he smirked at his best friend. Pocketing the pack back inside of his kutte, Jax pulled out his lighter next. As he flipped it open, raising the flame to the tip of his cigarette, he saw Opie doing the same from the corner of his eye.

“Some things never change,” Opie mumbled around his cigarette.

Taking a drag off his once it was lit, Jax returned the lighter to his kutte before leaning his head back against the clubhouse behind him, blowing the smoke up into the night sky. His ass was killing him from that long ride out to Oregon and back on his bike, especially since they'd only just returned to Charming this afternoon.

“Fucking tired as shit,” Opie muttered beside him. “Can't believe we used to love those long fuckin’ runs when we were younger.”

Jax nodded his head against the cement structure behind him, chuckling as he remembered the early years when he and Ope had just been prospects and then newly patched members. Long runs meant the freedom of the open road and a change of scenery from Charming for a bit. And sometimes, if they weren't that busy or things were running behind, it also meant stopping somewhere for a bit to blow off steam at a bar or crash at a motel once the job was done before they needed to head back. And those nights had always led to some wild stories.

“We were young,” Jax pointed out. “Everything we did with the club felt twenty times more badass back then. Now?” He brought his cigarette back up to his lips, taking another drag from it. Expelling the smoke a moment later, he glanced at Opie beside him, feeling the weight of his own words. “We got more responsibility. Can't just piss around and have fun like we used to.”

“Got that right,” Opie replied. He shot Jax a grin before teasingly adding, “President.”

“Hey, you're the VP now, brother,” Jax reminded him, gesturing his smoke at Opie leaning against the wall beside him. “We ain't those little shitheads we used to be anymore.”

Opie hummed in response, that grin still on his face. “Dunno man, that's debatable when it comes to you.”

Jax’s hand darted out beside him, lightly smacking Opie on the shoulder. “Shut up, smartass,” he playfully shot back.

Despite the drunken shouting from the others that were outside drinking near the picnic tables, the noise carrying on a faint breeze, a comfortable silence settled around both men as they smoked. Jax continued to stare at the night sky above him, lost in thoughts like he often was. He was grateful to be finished with the run, and even more grateful that there hadn’t been any firefights on the ride. He'd expected someone to get pissed about that many Sons riding past their territory, but somehow they’d managed a peaceful trip–which had been unexpected but welcome.

“Somethin’ on your mind?” Opie asked.

“Just shit from the day,” he answered half-heartedly, still staring up at the blackened sky. “Surprised shit went as smooth as it did.”

“Chibs might disagree,” Opie quipped back.

With a roll of his eyes, Jax’s focus shifted away from the sky and back on Opie smoking next to him. He could tell his best friend already had a couple of drinks tonight judging by the wide grin that kept reappearing on his generally stoic face. He’d been about to make a comment in response, but even more noise from the other side of the lot inevitably drew Jax’s attention back over towards the commotion. A handful of women had just stepped out of the clubhouse with Tig and Happy, Jax’s eyes briefly drifting over to the group. That in itself wasn’t that strange of a sight, but just as Jax had begun to look away, his eyes immediately darted back towards them.

Because no, he hadn’t really just seen who he thought he had, had he?

Pushing off the wall, he craned his neck around Opie as his eyes narrowed in an attempt to get a better look, his hand holding his cigarette dropping to his side. There was no fucking way in hell that was you, right?

“What?” Opie asked, concern etched on his face as he turned to follow Jax’s gaze. “What’re you lookin’ at?”

Jax stared across the lot for a bit longer, his eyes fixed on a girl that was half-hidden behind a few other people. He hadn’t realized that he’d been holding his breath until the blonde girl blocking who he thought was you had stumbled backwards. That’s when he got a better view of the woman he’d mistaken for the one he'd thought he'd seen.

Because no, of course that wasn’t you. Why the fuck would you ever just appear at a Sons’ party out of nowhere? You didn’t even live in Charming. At least, not when he'd met you.

“Jax?”

Opie’s voice and his own disappointment had him tearing his eyes away from the woman who absolutely wasn’t the one he’d been hoping to see. With a shake of his head, he turned his back to the group and drew his cigarette up to his lips, taking a particularly deep drag to ease the tension suddenly in his body.

Why the fuck had he been so damn hopeful? How the fuck were you still in his head after all of this time?

“Dude, what the hell is goin’ on with you?” Opie pressed further. “You look like you just saw a goddamn ghost or something. The hell was that?”

“Nothin’,” Jax muttered. “Don’t worry about it.”

Opie scoffed harshly at Jax’s dismissal, his head leaning back against the clubhouse. Jax could feel his best friend’s eyes on the side of his face, but that only made him more determined not to look at him.

“Nah, brother,” Opie countered, clearly not buying it. “That wasn’t nothin’. Who’d you think you just saw? C’mon, tell me.”

His fingers pinched tight around his cigarette at the question. Why the fuck was he getting so frustrated? Why did any of this matter?

“Just a girl,” Jax muttered, still avoiding Opie's eyes. “No one important.”

“Uh huh. I’m calling bullshit,” Opie shot back. “No girl gets you doin’ a damn double take like that. Who the fuck did you think it was, man?”

A long, irritated sigh fell out of Jax, his left hand reaching up and running across his forehead. You were already on his mind again. What the fuck did it really matter if he told Opie about you? It's not like you'd ever see each other again–something he should have already accepted a long fucking time ago.

Shoulders dropping in defeat, Jax stepped back over beside Opie and returned to his place leaning against the wall. He took a deep breath, flicking some ash off the tip of his cigarette as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“Few years back we had a run,” Jax began, still unable to look Opie in the eyes with how goddamn stupid he was about to sound. “Took us out to San Bernardino and the SAMDINO charter. Was a long ass trip because some shit went down while we were out, so we crashed at that shitty motel for the night on our way back.”

Opie nodded slowly as he expelled a trail of smoke from his lips. “Yeah, I remember that,” he mused. “Was a long time ago. That was the night Tig got so wasted we left him outside his motel room passed out. Somehow still woke up the next morning to find him with his face buried in a hooker's pussy.”

An amused snort fell out of Jax at that particular memory. The guys had begun to reassemble in the motel parking lot after a not very restful night, and yet even wasted and locked out of his room, Tig still had managed to get some ass.

“Yeah, that night,” Jax agreed, the smile on his lips slowly fading to something nostalgic as his thoughts shifted back to you. “That was the night I hooked up with some girl.”

“You always hook up with some girl,” Opie pointed out flatly.

Jax frowned as he raised the cigarette to his lips, inhaling the smoke as your face drifted through his mind. It had been five years since that night he’d had with you, and while the image in his mind had eventually grown a bit blurry, he'd never forgotten you. For whatever goddamn reason, you were the one of hundreds who'd stuck with him ever since the night he'd been with you. The only one who’d made him feel something. The one who’s face sometimes surfaced in his mind when he was inside of other girls like you were haunting him.

“Yeah, I do,” Jax said. “But normally I take a girl to bed, get off, and move on. Just a one time thing that means nothing. I never think about them after the fact.”

Opie's head turned, shifting against the wall as he looked over at Jax. His slightly glazed eyes had narrowed marginally in curiosity at him, as if his sluggish mind was struggling to process what Jax was really saying through the alcohol he’d drank.

“Brother,” Opie began slowly, a look of disbelief gradually washing over his features. “Are you telling me you liked this girl? Am I hearing this right?”

Jax shrugged as he took a last drag of his cigarette before dropping it to the pavement and stomping it out. Roughly blowing out the smoke, Jax felt frustrated with himself at the question. He’d often asked himself the same damn thing, but it wasn’t like the answer really mattered at this point.

“I don't fucking know, Ope,” Jax replied. “All I know is, I haven't stopped thinking about her. Been five goddamn years and sometimes I'll just remember her outta nowhere thinking I see her around. Or sometimes I see her face when I’m with another girl. I don’t even know why, it doesn’t make any sense. Never fuckin’ thought about a girl after the fact even once. But her?”

Jax shook his head, his eyes darting past Opie and over towards the rowdy group outside. He found the girl he'd mistaken for you, his frown deepening on his face as he watched her take a deep pull off of her beer. She definitely wasn't you and for some reason that pissed him off even though he knew it was a fucking ridiculous thing to be pissed about.

“You liked her.”

Jax’s attention returned to Opie, noticing how what his best friend had said hadn’t been a question but rather a statement. And maybe he was right, but what the hell did it matter at this point?

“Fuck, maybe,” Jax conceded. “Maybe I did. But I barely fucking knew her. And she lives hours away from Charming–or she did at the time, five goddamn years ago. Don't even remember her name. I just–”

He cut himself off before he could look like a jackass in front of Opie by finishing that thought. He didn't remember your name, but he remembered the way your laugh made his heart swell, and how your lips tasted like vanilla from whatever lip balm you’d put on them. He remembered how soft your hands felt running over his skin when you’d traced his tattoos, and the way you moaned against his neck when you'd came–and you'd came repeatedly while he'd been with you. Jax still remembered how goddamn good you felt when he sunk into you the few times he had that night, your pussy tight and perfect in a way that none of the other girls he’d been with ever felt like. A perfect fit–something that sounded so goddamn stupid even to his own mind.

And he remembered the intense, strange pull he'd felt towards you from the moment his eyes locked on yours at the bar. That odd connection he felt in the way you’d kissed him, the one which had made it difficult for him to slip out of your bed when you'd accidentally fallen asleep after that fourth round of sex. He remembered hating the way he'd gently had to slip out from under your soft, warm, naked body, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form in bed as he quickly dressed himself. He'd carefully covered you in your bed sheets before he'd quietly left your apartment, never to see you again.

“I remember her telling me she didn't do one night stands,” Jax eventually said, finishing his thought. “That she never had before.”

A small smile played across his lips as he remembered all those times you’d leaned over next to him at the bar, clearly buzzed as you whispered to him that you'd never slept with a stranger before. He recalled the way you'd giggled and nodded your head when he’d asked if you were considering it. When you'd agreed to follow him outside while he had a smoke, he’d been pleased to know you were as intrigued by him as he was by you. Then you’d shocked him when you’d been the one to take the cigarette from between his fingers and toss it away before grabbing him and kissing him like you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Told me that about twenty times,” he added with a chuckle, catching the little grin on Opie's face as he listened to Jax recall the night. “It was cute. She wasn’t like any of the girls that we usually see around here.”

Jax jutted his chin in the direction of the group still drinking by the picnic tables to make his point, a somber look in his eyes. He’d often wondered about you over the years despite how hard he’d tried not to think of you. He wondered if you’d ever thought about him and that night you’d had together.

“Sex that good?” Opie asked curiously, studying the look in Jax’s eyes. “That why she stood out?”

Shaking his head at the question, Jax’s gaze shifted down to his hands, fiddling with one of his rings. “The sex was amazing, Ope,” he admitted before shaking his head. “I mean, fuck, we went at it a few times that night. Couldn’t seem to get enough of each other. But it’s not the only reason why she sometimes crosses my mind.” His tongue slipped out, wetting his lips as he remembered that odd feeling he’d gotten around you whenever you’d smiled at him. “There was just…something about her, y’know? Like I just felt somethin’ with her that I hadn’t really felt with anyone before. Not since…”

A look of understanding crossed Opie’s face as he nodded, clearly catching what had been left unspoken when Jax’s words trailed off. He finished off his own cigarette before tossing it to the pavement, stomping it out beneath his shoe.

“Not since Tara?” he asked.

Jax’s head fell back against the cement of the clubhouse behind him, a familiar ache hitting him in the chest. “Yeah,” he answered quietly. “Not since Tara.”

The sounds of laughter and drunken shouting increased, filling the night air around them. He hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that truth, that there was something about you that had been more than just an urge to scratch an itch that night. You were an unexpected blip in the timeline of Jax’s life–two people who probably never should’ve met but did. And you’d unknowingly left an unexpected vanilla-flavored, citrus-scented mark on his life.

“But it don’t matter anyway,” he muttered bitterly, still staring up at the dark sky. “Never gonna see her again. Kinda the point of just one night with someone. Doubt she’s ever even thought about me since.”

“What makes you say that?” Opie questioned curiously.

“Because I remember her telling me that she’d only gone out that night ‘cause she’d been stressed with her job or somethin’,” Jax told him, his attention shifting over to the row of parked motorcycles across the lot. “Don’t remember much about the why, but I was well aware that she was using me for an escape just as much as I was doing the same with her.”

“Yet here you are,” Opie replied, a teasing grin on his lips, “thinking about the nameless girl with the golden pussy five years later. Who’s to say you haven’t crossed her mind?”

Pushing himself off the wall, Jax scoffed bitterly at the thought. Why the hell would a girl like you ever fucking think about the biker you spent one night with? Why the fuck was he even thinking about you again? The last time you'd crossed his mind had been months ago, and it was only because the girl he’d hooked up with that night had kissed him and tasted like cheap cherry chapstick mixed with alcohol. He’d missed the taste of vanilla and you.

“Doubt it, brother,” Jax bitterly grumbled, mood souring. “She’s just some girl I fucked, doesn’t matter. I’m gonna go grab another beer. You comin’?”

Opie stared at Jax, his slightly bloodshot eyes studying his face like he might say more about you, but he didn’t. Instead he shook his head and pushed off the wall.

“Nah, brother,” he replied. “Gotta get back to Lyla and the kids. Don't wanna leave her on her own longer than I already have this weekend.”

Disappointment filled Jax, but he nodded anyway. He knew Opie had responsibilities of his own, others in his life to worry about. Unlike Jax, who'd intentionally remained single and childless, not wanting to be tied down even if some nights he felt a stifling loneliness.

Like tonight.

“You good to get home?” Jax asked, raising a brow at him. “Maybe you should have a prospect drive you.”

“Only had a couple drinks,” Opie replied, shrugging a shoulder. “Not really feeling the alcohol. Mostly just really fucking tired, man.”

“Yeah, alright,” Jax replied, shoving down all of his previous thoughts. “I'll see you tomorrow, Ope. Get back safe.”

Opie nodded in a way of a goodbye before heading over to the row of motorcycles and climbing onto his bike. Without having much else to do, Jax turned and began walking back towards the clubhouse. He figured he'd have another beer and then crash in his room here tonight. It wasn’t like he had any reason to get back to his empty home instead, there wasn’t anyone waiting for him.

#jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam characters #charlie hunnam

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irisintheafterglow · 10 days ago

Text

lot of pretty boys, lot of funny business!

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: sabrina carpenter - "15 minutes"

summary: hired to be your bodyguard, lying that he's simply your driver. this job might be more complicated than sakusa expected.

wc: 4.3k

cw/tags: heiress!reader x mma fighter!sakusa, written with fem!reader in mind but gn pronouns used, brief peril, violence and blood, explicit language, angst/fluff with happy ending, miya twins cameo lol

note: welcome once again to iris is missing her grumpy jacked bf hours. i am well aware no one asked for this...but here it is anyway! enjoy hehe

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

— WORK LOG [K. SAKUSA]: 7:42 P.M. Week 10 of 15. Success: No more than an hour in the mall. Failure: Basically acted as a butler for an hour.

“You’re out of your mind if you actually think you’re going out in that.”

“It’s a birthday party, Omi, not a funeral. I’ll dress in however many sparkles I want,” you state stubbornly, giving him a spin in your salaciously flattering outfit. From the bottom of the stairs, he’s overjoyed that you can’t see the shades of pink dusting his face. “Well? What do you think?”

“I think that if your parents were still in the country, they’d beat my ass for letting you out of the house wearing those shoes,” he deadpans to hide every indication that he couldn’t stop staring. Your excited expression abruptly drops into a disappointed frown and you cross your arms. “Get a jacket and we’ll leave. The leather one with the lapels would look nice.”

“If you think I look ugly, just say that,” you huff, stamping back to your room.

“That’s not what I–Nevermind.” He sighs, running a hand down his face and checking the time on his watch. The party was already underway, no doubt. Sakusa would never be caught dead at a house on the infamous ‘frat road,’ much less the one owned by Daishou Suguru’s family, but every heir to a fortune worth gossiping about were expected to attend the celebration of the slithering son himself. Like you, Daishou Suguru carried a reputation with him on-campus that lingered wherever he went, leaving the air reeking of rumpled cash and Versace cologne. Whether they admitted it or not, every family wanted a piece of the Daishou inheritance, and they were willing to use all of their charm to secure it.

Everyone, it seemed, except you.

“Is it really that bad?” You ask quietly, fidgeting with a piece of thread undone at the hem of your oversized leather jacket. The drive to the Daishou estate was painfully silent, especially when he suggested you turn on music and you just shook your head. In spite of himself, Sakusa was ready to veer you both off the road if it meant you’d just put on your stupid bubblegum-pop-princess shit and stop moping.

“What?” Sakusa’s single-word answer comes out harsher than he wanted it to. You deflate a little more in your seat and he swallows thickly. Your voice is even quieter than before.

“My outfit. Is it really hideous?” You glance at him and see his fingers white-knuckle gripping the steering wheel of one of your family’s many sports cars. It was a perk that came with the job, driving fancy cars and eating in places his friends couldn’t afford with a full year’s paycheck. Komori joked that he might as well marry you to stay in the family, for the benefits and all. Sakusa’d thrown an empty energy drink can at his cousin’s head, but silently agreed that the perks were more enjoyable than he thought. Spending time with you, the untouchable heiress to the second-most wealthy family in the city, also proved to be more bearable than he presumed.

“No,” he manages to force out. “No, it’s…It’s fine. You’re fine.” Idiot! If he weren’t busy being a robotically perfect patron of the road—in spite of his usual tendency to burn rubber with the skill of an F1 driver—he would slap himself. To your amusement, his composure slips enough for you to notice the way his eyes squeeze tight in pure embarassment of what he just said.

“Fine?” You suppress a smirk, feeling a little more invigorated again. “You think I’m fine?”

“I’d be fine if you stopped talking for the rest of the ride,” he retorts weakly and you finally crack a smile. “Stop grinning like that, weirdo.”

“C’mon, let me have a little fun,” you tease. “We barely spent an hour in the mall getting me this dress, and I didn’t get to check out any of the new blind box shipments.”

“Because people kept coming up to you asking if they could tag along for your little shopping trip,” he points out. “The group by the food court asked me if I was just there to hold your bags. And then asked if I could hold their bags.”

“True, but you were there to hold my bags and give me feedback on clothes.”

“Neither of which were in this job description,” he reiterates tiredly. The car approaches a backroad devoid of obstacles, sloping down and then climbing into an easy hill that would be perfect for him to slam the gas. He exhales through his nose, instead taking the road at a speed that would make the slowest drivers honk angrily. You watch him with an unreadable expression.

“You drive like my grandmother,” you declare after the only sound in the car was the roaring engine waiting to be called upon.

“She must be a very safe driver then,” he monotones.

“She’s dead, so don’t consider that a compliment,” you quip and he rolls his eyes. Your spunk wasn’t in the job description, either. “So, are you gonna speed up or not?”

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I could get fired?” He replies in disbelief and you shrug like it wasn’t even a remote possibility. “And I need the money to pay for next semester.”

“If you need money, I could just give you some,” you say truthfully and he shakes his head, declining to answer like he always did. You look at him too softly, with too much care, and it bothers him like a punch to the solar plexus. He wasn’t used to having someone ask about his day, about if he’d eaten yet, about if his physics exam was truly as bad as he described. You were nothing like the prissy, spoiled brats that prowled about the university campus, and he couldn’t help but feeling guilty that he was getting paid to essentially be a close friend as well as a chauffeur.

After what felt like an eternity, he was more than relieved to be pulling into the Daishou’s driveway. “I’m serious,” you continue when he doesn’t respond. “I have no idea where my dad found you, but I can always help pay for some of your stuff. It’s the least I can do since you’re always driving me around.”

Right. You still thought he was just your driver.

“I’m already getting paid by your dad,” he says, shutting off the car and taking a second to survey the swaths of people overflowing onto the front lawn. Every guest was wrapped in sickeningly bright shades of overconsumption, clutching red cups and swaying like palm trees in a strong wind. The Daishous’ valet approaches the vehicle and Sakusa steps out, crossing to open your door and offer his arm. “Really, don’t worry about it,” he assures you when you still have a skeptical pout. “Just have fun tonight and grab me if you need anything.”

— 11:16 P.M. Week 10 of 15. Success: Regulated drink count at Daishou’s party. Failure: Possible Miya presence (catastrophic).

The party is unsurprisingly predictable. He stays within fifteen feet of you at all times, stalking from corner to corner with a stone-cold expression that deters any drunks looking for a quick hookup. Sakusa watches you flit from one pack of rich kids to another, showering people with compliments and asking them about their lives in that painfully sociable way of yours. He even finds himself smiling as he watches you spray punch from one nostril after laughing at a close friend’s story, until an unwanted voice makes his eye twitch.

“You know, it was a lot easier to sneak into this place than I thought it’d be!”

“Atsumu,” he acknowledges dryly, eyeing his friend’s completely unbuttoned shirt and holographic party hat with obvious disdain. His hair, usually so obnoxious, was getting practically washed out in all the other neons of the party. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Lighten up, Omi-omi. Believe it or not, I was invited.”

“For what? As an entertainer?”

“It was one time. One time, I said I could make it as a stripper,” he protests as he throws an arm around Sakusa’s shoulders too casually to indicate sobriety. “To answer your question, no! I am not here to take my clothes off. At least, not in front of everybody.” Slightly disgusted, Sakusa realizes that he’s lost you in the crowd and sets his jaw, trying to stifle the panic in his chest.

“Go away, Atsumu. I need to do my job,” he orders and attempts to shrug off the imposing arm, but it’s in vain. The lights were strobing in Atsumu’s mind but no one was home.

“Your job is to kick the shit out of people, those people being me, and ‘Samu, and Kuroo, and Bokuto, and—”

“Do you always need to be making this much noise?”

“It’s to fill in the silence of your constant brooding, my friend.” Eventually, he tunes out Atsumu’s rambling and wordlessly shoves his way through the huddles of students, intuition guiding him out the kitchen side door.

The scene he enters outside makes his heart drop into his stomach.

“Omi?” His heartrate increases instantaneously, all the blood rushing to his limbs and fists. He could feel it growing, the fiery energy shooting through every vein and into his brain until he becomes nothing more than a feral, fighting machine. You’re backed into a corner by who he recognizes as some of Daishou’s goons, low-life guys the asshole pretends to be friends with until they worship the ground he pisses on. “Omi, just go. Please,” your voice wavers and he could break a tooth from how hard he was clenching his jaw. The jacket he’d forced you to wear was clutched in the grip of one of the goons, probably from an attempt to grab you that you’d slipped away from. “I’m fine. Please, go.”

“Ah, this is awkward, isn’t it? I’m Atsumu, by the way!” His buzzed friend greets politely from behind him and, if he weren’t busy assessing the guys in front of him, Sakusa would be knocking the lights out of the idiot behind him. “You know,” Atsumu continues, his hands somehow finding their way to Sakusa’s shoulders and shaking him as if to break him from a trance. “You and I could take these guys so easily.” Your eyes narrow and he can tell you want to say something, but he was too busy trying to stifle the red growing in his vision to give you any kind of reasonable explanation.

“What do you want with them?” He grits out and the guys scoff.

“Daishou’s got a matter to discuss with ‘em. Said to bring them to talk by whatever means necessary,” one of them replies and Sakusa could feel his blood boiling as he unconsciously opens and closes his fists. “Even if they ran,” he sneers. His dark eyes dart to you.

His first instinct is to walk away, money be damned. It would be wiser for him to turn his back and let the rich sort themselves out. You would hate him, but maybe that was for the best, and he could go back to bruised fists and broken cartilage to pay for the rest of his life—

No.

“You wanna talk to him? To Daishou?”

“Omi, go,” you plead. “It’s fine, I can figure it out.”

“That wasn’t my question.” Your bite your lower lip and he swears he catches your eyes start to get glossy. He’d apologize for his bluntness later; for now, he needed to get you into the car and away from this party. “Do you want to talk to Daishou? Yes or no.”

You whisper a terrified “no” that’s almost too quiet to hear.

“This dickhead thinks he can just decide shit around here,” another one of the goons says with a snide grin. “If Daishou wants something, Daishou gets it. Your poor ass wouldn’t get it. It’s only for us classy folk that get what we want.”

He brushes a curl from his face.

Atsumu’s knuckles crack from behind him.

“Want me to get ‘Samu?” The blonde Miya asks lowly, suddenly sober. As another fighter who brawled just to fund his schooling, the verbal attack struck deep. “Suna should be around too.” Sakusa shakes his head; he didn’t have time to wonder why all his fighting acquaintances were at this stupid party.

“No,” he replies with a cold tone that made you shiver in the humid summer night. “You got a car outside, ‘Tsumu?”

“Down the drive, yeah.”

“Good. I’ll meet you at the gym,” he orders, stepping closer to the circle of opponents. They laugh and roll their shoulders back, anticipating a fun session with a willing punching bag. Sakusa doesn’t dare look you in the eyes, not ready to face the fact that he’d lied to you for months about why your father hired him. “Get them out and don’t let anyone stop you.”

“Why do you always get to have the fun?”

“Atsumu,” he warns.

“Fine, fine, just don’t make a mess.” A flicker of a dangerously confident smirk tweaks the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t I always?”

He’s moving faster than anyone could react, pivoting and slamming the side of his shin into the back of the nearest goon’s knee. The guy falls to a knee and can’t even blink before he’s knocked out cold, the familiar warmth of blood and broken-nose crunch enveloping Sakusa’s senses. His body feels like it’s running at 150%, just as it always done when he’s fighting for his life in the ring. Without a doubt in his mind, he can attack, dodge, and think faster than everyone around him, at home as both the quiet eye and the flurrying hurricane.

Atsumu is at your side in an instant, laying his own quick combo on the guy holding your jacket. He gently takes your elbow, taking great care not to guide you in a way that would make Sakusa target him next as a threat, leading you down the dark side path of the house to a gate. The next moments flash in overwhelming blurs, Atsumu at your back to take out the goons attempting to pursue you out of the house, kicking off your shoes to better run down the driveway, a second figure that looks suspiciously like Atsumu with darker hair sprinting past you to take down a guard trying to prevent you from leaving.

This is why we don’t get invited to shit, ‘Tsumu!

Less talking, more running, ‘Samu!

Right when your calves begin to burn from sprinting away from the house with your apparent twin bodyguards, you spot red lights blink twice, parked against the curb. With Osamu holding the door and Atsumu jerking the ignition to life, you slip into the passenger seat and barely have time to ask what the fuck is going on before your driver slams the gas.

— 11:30 P.M. Week 10 of 15. Success: Shut down arranged marriage negotiations. Failure: Got a bad cheap shot to the ribs.

Osamu is waiting for him a few blocks down from the main entrance gate, leaning against the hood of his car like a disappointed father picking up his teen daughter from a sleepover gone wrong. The fire that fueled him as he fought his way out of the estate was slowly burning out, its embers glowing enough to give him the energy to slip away into the darkness as the Daishou family’s private security start to search the premises, no doubt from the orders of the only son.

“You look like shit,” his getaway driver observes. There’s no malice in Osamu’s voice; there never was, only the unaltered truth and the occasional sarcastic comment. “They give you trouble?”

“No more than you or Kuroo do,” Sakusa answers tiredly. “Just a pain in my ass, at most.” His friend nods, his gaze narrowing on the item in his fist. Your jacket. Atsumu must have either dropped it on the way out or failed to pick it up at all.

“What’s that? Souvenir?”

“No, just need to return it to its rightful owner.” Osamu’s mouth opens into an ah of understanding and he finally turns to climb into the car, Sakusa also clambering in with a pained groan.

“Don’t tell me they actually got a hit on you,” Osamu says shrewdly as Sakusa leans his head back and closes his eyes.

“I’m going to punch you.”

“Hmm, they did get a hit on you then.”

“I am going,” he repeats slowly. “To punch you.”

“Were you pulling your punches? You never pull your punches.”

“Drive,” he all but growls and Osamu’s dry chuckle is followed by the hum of the engine.

“You really did all that, just for them?” Sakusa peels open one eye and takes in his friend’s blank expression, fixated on the road.

“Yeah, guess I did.”

“Are they worth it?” Sakusa doesn’t hesitate before he answers, and that’s when Osamu knows that the ruthless, selfish fighter that he’d trained with was no more.

“I wouldn’t do all this if they weren’t.”

— 11:57 P.M. Week 10 of 15. Success: They’re safe in the gym. Failure: They might hate me.

I should get him a proper lock for his birthday, Atsumu thinks to himself as he unties the double-knotted rope securing Sakusa’s locker door. He spots the extra set of clean clothes and pulls out the carefully folded sweatshirt with a faded print of the university’s logo. Atsumu thinks for a moment more before making his decision; he’d reap the consequences of rummaging through his friend’s stuff if it meant you weren’t shivering in the stale air of the gym. To no one’s surprise, you’re right where he’d left you when he exits the locker room, curled into yourself with your back against a corner wall. You initially refused to sit down, but hesitantly let Atsumu settle you on a bench once you tugged Sakusa’s sweater over your head. The smell of the detergent, the faint undertone of his cologne, and the well-worn fabric feel like safety. It gives you enough courage to finally start asking questions.

“Where are we?”

“MMA gym, just a couple blocks south of campus,” answers Atsumu. He sits at a polite distance from you on the bench, purposefully far enough that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable but still able to have a normal conversation.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Miya Atsumu. I train here with your, uh…bodyguard.” Your jaw tightens.

“I thought he was supposed to be my driver.”

“Who the hell told you that?”

“My father.”

“He wear a silver signet ring?” You nod, wide-eyed. “Yeah, he came in a while back asking about Omi-omi. Wanted to hire him for a job.”

“I’m assuming I was the job,” you conclude. “Dad’s been out of the country for a few months now, won’t be back for another couple of weeks. Omi was hired to what, protect me?”

“From what I know of. You know Omi; he’s a man of the least words possible,” Atsumu says. “Didn’t even share that he’d taken the job. Just stopped showing up at his usual training times and only explained where he’d been when I cornered him after class.”

“I bet he hated that.”

“Oh, he nearly broke my nose. For the fourth time.” You manage a small, tired smile that fades just as quickly as it appeared. As angry as you were that Sakusa had lied to you about what your father hired him for, you couldn’t shake the nauseating stew of nerves in your stomach. “It’s good he was there with you, though. Maybe your old man knew those scumbags might make a move.”

“Do you think Omi’s okay?” You let the sleeves of the sweater cover your shaking hands and run your fingers over the inside ribbing of the cuffs to ground yourself.

“He’s the most feared fighter in the gym. I think he’ll do just fine against Daishou’s bozos.”

“The look on his face…” Your voice trails off and you stare at your shoes, scraped and stained from running across the Daishous’ lawn. “Does he always look like that when he fights?” Atsumu thinks, his eyebrows pinching.

“No,” he decides. “He usually keeps his composure pretty well. It’s what makes him so scary in the first place; half of the fight is not getting intimidated by his aura.”

“I assume you fight him often, then, to know all this about him.”

“Sure, we’re BFFS. Best fighters forever.” His attention is temporarily taken by his phone, which buzzes and makes quiet clicking noises as he types a message and sends it.

“What was different about tonight, then? Why did he have so much—”

“Blood lust?” Atsumu finishes without looking up.

“Yeah. Like he was on the verge of killing someone.”

“Honestly, I’d say it was because they’d cornered you,” Atsumu says with a shrug, pocketing his phone and turning toward the main entrance doors. “But if you want a genuine answer, ask him yourself.”

Sakusa doesn’t know what to expect when he opens the gym door with a metallic creak. Half of him hopes that you weren’t there at all, that you’d forced Atsumu to take you home and declared that you would never want to see the face of a liar. The other half of him is expecting a firm slap in the face, a screaming match, and the same outcome where he’s left jobless and you’re never to be contacted. What he doesn’t plan for, however, is seeing you wrapped up in his clothes and looking so emotionally wrecked that it feels like he’s been punched in the chest again. He doesn’t plan for the way you open your mouth to say something, abruptly shut it when tears start to well, and shrink even further into his sweater like a sad turtle.

He certainly doesn’t plan for the way his arms instinctively slide around your waist to pull you close, or how you immediately melt into him with your hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. Your face is hidden where his neck meets his shoulder and he can feel every shaking exhale against his skin. Sakusa waits for you to let go, to pull away and shove your knee into his crotch, but all you do is stand there, letting him hold you, and breathing him in. Both Miyas have disappeared into the back, leaving you enveloped in the quiet security of his presence.

“I’m sorry I lied,” he murmurs into your ear. There’s a speckle of dark red on his neck that you wipe with your thumb, making his throat bob as he swallows. Against your ear, his heart rate picks up significantly at the feeling of your finger on his skin.

“I know.” About the lying or the remorse, he couldn’t tell.

“Think you can forgive me?”

“Stay at the house tonight and I’ll think about it.”

“That can be arranged,” he replies and without another word, intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the car to take you home.

— WORK LOG [K. SAKUSA]: 10:04 P.M. Week 14 of 15. Success: Won all bouts. Failure: Running very, very late.

“What’d I tell you about leaving the front door unlocked?” He calls out, breathless, to the empty living room after hurrying over after the night’s fights. Earlier, you graciously allowed him to borrow your family’s green Mustang—something about the color matching his aesthetic for luck purposes—and he’d nearly flipped several times racing to get to your house from the gym. Now, he does a quick check of the entryway before kicking off his shoes and beelining for the bathroom upstairs.

“I only unlocked it recently, don’t panic. I knew you were coming home,” you reassure him as you round the corner that leads to the kitchen carrying a party-size bag of chips. You pop one in your mouth with an unhurried crunch. He exhales and leans over the stairway railing, fighting back a smile at the sight of you wearing his jacket over your fancy going-out clothes. “Also, what happened to, ‘Hi, love of my life, how was your day?’ You’re already on thin ice for being late.” You set down the chips and posit your hands on your hips as he obediently makes his way back down the stairs. Despite your faux-irritation, you don’t protest as he pulls you in by your hips and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Hi, love of my life, I would love to hear about your day when I’m not covered in blood and sweat,” he murmurs with facetious compliance. You snort, all too aware of the stray beads of perspiration hanging from his curls and the small cuts on his hands as he takes one of yours to kiss your knuckles.

“You and your silver tongue.”

“You’re the one who said I needed another way to fight that wasn’t with my fists,” he reminds you, his mouth still brushing your fingers, “and Atsumu isn’t a bad teacher if you need to learn how to piss people off with just words.”

“Don’t learn too much from him, now.”

“Blame the teacher, not the student,” he replies with a sly grin. “Lemme shower and then we’ll go, yeah?”

“Fine, be ready in ten or I’m taking the Mustang without you.” You gently push him away and he sneaks one more peck on your lips. “I’m serious, Kiyoomi.”

“Promises, promises, baby,” he drawls, already peeling off his shirt as he climbs the stairs again. “You want me ready in ten, I’ll make it six.”

“Should I wear your jacket to dinner?” You ask and he pauses at the top of the stairs, looking down with the same old blush warming his face. “It goes well with my outfit, no?”

“I’ll have my arm around you anyway, so you won’t need it.”

“I won’t?” He smiles softly.

“Never.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #kiyoomi sakusa x you #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #hq x y/n

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marcsburnerphone · 1 year ago

Text

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: some awkward moments but nothing crazy.

part 1 - Part two!!! - part 3 - part 4

—————-

You indeed did not see John price the next morning but what you did see was a handwritten note stuck to the fridge beneath a magnet.

“Good morning, as I mentioned my job is demanding. I’m not sure how long I'll be gone for but I can estimate at least a month. If you need me, my phone number is below along with my check for this month's rent and the next. - John price”

You reach for the envelope that is attached behind the note and pull it open and what the fuck. You knew he had to have money but in what world would someone pay this much rent for a house with a roommate? You immediately grab your own checkbook and write him for the amount that’s overpaid, making a mental note to make sure you give it to him.

————

Weeks pass slowly and life goes on as it did before. The only difference is you're no longer struggling to make ends meet. So to celebrate your success you order that 6 foot canvas you’d been wanting for ages and a new oil paint.

When you got the notification that it had arrived, thank god for two day shipping, you squealed and ran to grab it before the mailman even walked away. He offered to help you as he watched you give it a bear hug and waddle it through your door yelling out a meek ‘no Thankyou’. You dragged it down the hallway and into the sunroom resting it up against the wall. Ripping the clear plastic film off of new canvases comes in third place to the best things in life.

Sitting in the sun that evening you stroke deep blue oil paints that try their best to replicate ocean waters, and white specks that wish they could induce the same feelings stars do.

You’ve been at this same painting for 3 weeks, coming home and straight to it. Now that it’s finally done it sits sunbathing till it dries. You still visit it and admire its larger than life beauty.

John’s been gone for 1 month and 3 weeks now and in that time some problems have arisen, 1. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and below it the pipe also leaks and the only plumber that’s willing to drive out to your house and inspect it says he won’t be available for another week which means the water bill will sky rocketing till then. And 2. you have no idea where the huge painting will go.

You walk around wondering where to place it. You thought maybe the living room, or even in your room but after testing both those places it still didn’t look right. You can only think of one other place which is the hallway to John’s room. Of course that spot is perfect, maybe he wouldn’t notice since he only spent one night here. You grabbed the drill and got to work mounting it immediately. Once all was said and done you gave it a once over, smiled, snapped a picture of it to send to your sister and walked away.

———

John arrived back exactly at the two month mark early in the AM. He opened the house door as quietly as possible and removed his boots by the door to avoid the creaking wood of the floor and continued sluggishly hauling his bag to his room. Being the man he is, he notices everything, those watchful eyes of his never miss a detail so he does indeed notice and take a second to admire the newly found painting hung in front of his bedroom door before unlocking it to set his stuff down.

After a much needed and appreciated shower he reads the clock at 7AM thinking he can sleep for a little, that is of course until he hears a knock at the door. Making his way down the hall he peeps through the window and sees a handyman?

“Good morning sir, how can I help you?” He says opening the door.

“Good morning, your wife called for a leaking pipe, told her I’d come by sometime today.” He looks down the hall towards your room and confirms the fact that you're definitely still very well asleep.

“My wife? Oh yes my wife, that lady I could’ve sworn I told her to cancel this appointment we actually got it all sorted out.” He lies like it's second nature.

“I actually charge a late cancellation fee that must be paid upfront.” He inquires slightly annoyed.

“How much?” John replies feeling sorry for this man that drove out here and is now being sent away.

“100$ flat.” John shuts the door and quickly fetches his wallet from the pocket of his cargo pants and returns with two bills one for the inconvenience and sends the man on his way.

Sleep can wait.

—————

You wake up to the sound of clanking in the kitchen and as a woman that technically lives alone in the middle of the forest you're terrified.

Grabbing the bat beside your bed still fully dressed in the least threatening attire, you tiptoe to the source of the noise and breathe out the strongest sigh of relief ever known to man.

“Jesus Christ John you scared me, what’re you doing?” You loudly admit startling him in return.

“Fixing this pipe that you called an overpriced handyman for.” You stare at him subconsciously admiring the way he looks, slightly disheveled, face screwed in concentration and strong hands twisting the wrench in his hand and let’s not mention the rise of his shirt.

“You okay?” He says removing himself from under the sink leaning back on his knees to stare up at you.

“Yeah, yes I’m so sorry, um so where did the handy man go?” He stands with a grunt and leans his back against the counter.

“On his merry way.” He replies, turning around to turn the faucet on checking if it leaks, then off to see if it still drips and as he expects, it does neither.

“How much do I owe you for the late cancellation fee?” That man has handled your plumbing issues before and you’ve definitely canceled late more than once.

“Technically you didn’t cancel on him, I did so don’t worry.” He says picking his tools up off the ground placing them messily into the tool box.

“Well Thank You.” You say awkwardly.

“Of course.” He smiles making the dimples beneath his beard awfully noticeable.

“Oh and by the way your rent is only two thousand five hundred a month.” You say walking to the kitchen drawer beside him and pulling out a check that’s already filled out and handing it to him.

“Utilities included?” He asks, grabbing the check written out for three thousand and also taking in notice that same scent that clung to those sheets you made his bed with weeks ago as you sweep by.

“Yeah I don’t mind paying more cause I mean look around, this place has my style written all over it which makes it feel more like mine than yours.” He looks baffled at your reasoning.

“I actually like the decorations, not sure I’d change a thing about it.” You laugh at what has to be a lie.

“I doubt it.” You chuckle and slightly blush at his kindness.

“No I'm serious, I especially love that painting in the hallway, where’d you get it?” You seem surprised at the mention of it and even more flattered at the compliment.

“I actually painted it.” He gives you a surprised look.

“See you’re even hand painting the art, please I can afford much more than twenty five hundred.” You act like you're considering it for a moment.

“As much as I’d appreciate it, I'm already grateful for what you pay.” You say truthfully.

“Also, welcome home.” You quip before turning around walking back towards your room to get ready for the day

—————

John’s been home for nearly two weeks now and he’s slightly growing on you and you on him. You co-exist in harmony most times. That doesn’t mean the two of you still don’t clash from time to time.

“Good morning.” He says scrambling eggs in a pan as you walk into the kitchen reaching in the cabinet for a coffee mug.

“Morning to you too.” You say groggily, setting your feet flat on the ground and placing the cup on the counter, reaching for the pot to pour some coffee.

“If I can just- oh I’m so sorry.” He says accidentally bumping into you making the coffee spill on the counter.

“Oh no don’t worry about it, I can just clean it.” You say turning around quickly to go grab paper towels and end up accidentally running into his chest.

He grabs your shoulders to hold you in place and let your brain catch up with the speed of events.

“We will learn to both be in the kitchen together someday.” You affirm with a laugh that makes you feel alive.

“Hey the first week this happened almost everyday. If anything this is a huge improvement.” He jokingly abides.

“True.” You say as he turns around handing you the kitchen towel to clean it up. He watches you with amused eyes and a smile that still hasn’t left either of your faces and for a second something alights in John something that scares him so bad he doesn’t hear a thing you’re saying.

“John, I said did you sleep well?” You speak a bit louder, snapping him out of it.

“Yeah darling sorry I’m just going to take this to my office. I've got some work to cover.” He says hurriedly plating his food and scurrying off.

“Okay well I’ll be heading to work soon.” He doesn’t even let you finish before closing the door leaving you to stand there a little stumped.

“So I’ll assume he didn’t sleep well.” You say to yourself before pouring another cup and heading to your room to get changed.

——————

Comments and reposts are appreciated <3

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@depressed-but-make-it-cute

#captain price x female reader #john price #angst #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod x reader

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agendabymooner · 11 months ago

Text

SOMETHING PATIENT !!! LEWIS H. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: 945 days after, lewis learned to show his wife that she really was the winner.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), explicit language, british grand prix 2024 spoilers, a little angsty, mercedes to ferrari news, wife!reader (lady hamilton), soft sex, squirting, p in v, oral (f!receiving), body worship-esque, praise kink, hint of breeding kink if you squint, overstimulation, sloppy and short writing tbh.

note: it's sloppy but enjoy regardless xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

945 days. within those 945 days lewis hamilton was in deep denial and grief for his successes in the track.

he wondered where he’d gone wrong, why the team hadn’t done anything to help him get back up there, what he could do next.

lewis thought of it. in the span of 945 days, lewis made big decisions. he was moving to ferrari in 2025 because nobody valued him enough in mercedes - because he was still seeking for that eighth championship and all they thought about was that he was a lost cause. or at least some people said that his days were over.

but he knew himself well enough. he was self-assured enough to get back up there.

at least now he knew that the car was fixed. he knew it wasn’t a 'him' thing - it was a car and team thing. he knew it all along, because lady hamilton always told him that.

ah, lady hamilton.

his lovely wife of two years - one who saw him in his ups and downs. but throughout their marriage, what she saw were usually his downs. there were a lot of “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve” that she witnessed, sometimes arguing with lewis about beating himself up for something he lacked: success.

but lewis knew that rome wasn’t built in a day. his wife made sure he knew that.

now, as he stood on top of the podium with the union jack hanging over his shoulders, lewis found himself thinking through ‘god save the king.’

945 days. a hint of a race win finally came through after 945 days of losing streak and consistent podium finishes without the win.

lewis was the race winner of his home circuit. this was his last race win in his home circuit as a driver from mercedes.

he glanced down beneath the stage, seeing his father, mother and siblings as they celebrated him. but there was really one person that he looked at.

his wife, who was dressed impeccably with the mercedes hat on her head. she had a wide smile on her face, her eyes gleaming in happiness after seeing lewis so emotional. she always loved it when he was emotional in a positive way.

lewis recalled the days when he made things difficult for her. in those days, she made sure to rid him of those negative feelings too. no questions asked, only helping him through and chatting him out of his bad days.

945 days of which had mishaps and misunderstandings. 945 days of his falling for her despite his efforts to drive her away. 945 days of patience.

she was the true winner of all of this even if lewis stood on top of the podium in silverstone circuit.

so how she found herself being worshipped like a goddess, lady hamilton wasn’t sure.

lewis was just all over her and that was it, the tip of his nose briefly touching the sensitive bundle that made her jolt and writhe.

her hands clutched the sheets beneath her.

her hips begged to move against lewis’ insistent tattooed hands as he held them down and ate her like she was his last supper. the moans that escaped her mouth sounded like a hymn sung by a one woman choir.

she was a walking- no- she was a writhing woman who felt more like a divine figure. one that no one knew about but lewis. one that he believed in throughout those 945 days of asking himself, ‘what if it isn’t my time?’

“oh my god,” she whimpered softly, “ngh~ lew~”

“i know, darling,” lewis murmured as he lapped on her, his tongue prodding her entrance. “you want to cum, i know. let me have you first, yea? you taste so fucking good to not devour.”

his words turned her into a putty. or simply just a liquid that drenched the entire bed.

just as she thought she couldn’t get any more wetter than this, lewis broke the dam down and allowed her to cum all over and taste the trickling liquid that escaped her cunt.

lewis let out a guttural groan, “fuck, darling. keep cummin’ f’me.” he couldn’t help his fingers, slotting their way through her throbbing walls and prod another orgasm into her.

she cried out loudly, “fuck!” lewis’ fingers kept moving and coaxing another release from her, her senses being tortured by his sweet love and overstimulation.

this went on for a couple of minutes, lewis’ eyes darkening in desire and admiration as he watched his wife shake and convulse beneath him. her eyes glistened in haze and tears, no words left in her mouth as her body attempted to descend from the high.

but lewis wasn’t finished loving her yet. he wasn’t done showing his gratitude. he wasn’t done showing her how much she deserved his praises, his respect, his admiration for her patience.

the briton earned a squeak when he grabbed her hips and tugged her close, precum leaking out of his painfully stiff cock and prodding its way into her drenched pussy.

“oh,” she let out softly, attempting to embrace process everything as she hummed, “mm…”

“you’re so good f’me, my sweet darling wife,” lewis murmured softly as he leaned over to press a kiss on her forehead. “my beautiful wife. ever the patient one. always saw me at my worst.”

“mmfh- fuck,” she gasped when lewis’ girth and length filled her empty hole languidly, “yes… oh… god- fuck yes.”

“you’re so fucking good to me- ugh-“ lewis let out a loud grunt, bottoming out inside of her and repeatedly hitting that one spot in the same angle. “always tight and eager for me.”

“only for you,” she whimpered in pleasure, her hands slotting their ways around him with her nails scratching his tattooed back.

her heels dug into his ass, pulling him closer as if lewis hadn’t filled her up enough to rearrange her insides.

“yeah?” lewis grunted softly, growling and nipping her neck. “you like that don’t you? you like being good to me?” his thrusts began to roughen and increase their pace as lewis fulfilled his needs to fill his wife up.

“ngh~”

“i’m gonna fuck you like you deserve it, darling,” lewis crooned softly, his lips attached to hers and tongue tangled with hers.

her moans travelled from her mouth to his, lewis devouring every single whimper and noise she let out.

“gonna fuck you until you’re full of me,” lewis said as he gasped quietly and placed a palm on her bare stomach, “‘til you’re full of my baby. you’re gonna be even more beautiful when you’re round. fuck- darling-“

if there was anything that both of them learned throughout those 945 days, it was that they kept their promises.

she promised to lewis that she would be there no matter the storm that came his way. now, he promised her a life that she wanted. it was only fair lewis returned the favour.

especially when his wife was there from the very beginning.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne @marknolee @xylinasdiary @anotherblackreader

♡ moony’s reminder �� (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03

#lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lh44 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #f1 smut #♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #formula one imagine

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loveesiren · 2 months ago

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𝙷𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢

Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x American!Reader | Forever Masterlist

a/n: hiiii, I know I haven't updated this story in centuries lol. I actually wrote this part out a while ago but never posted it. Now that I'm rereading it I kinda hate it but I said I'd post it so here it is. It's better if you've read the whole Forever series but if you haven't you can stll get the gist of it. Link for my taglist at the bottom!

synopsis: It's the third birthday Y/n has gotten to spend with Thanos since they escaped the games. Now that they are engaged, she has the best gift to surprise him with.

warnings: fluff, smut at the end

wc: 4.8k+

It was your favorite time of the year again: Thanos’ birthday. A day he had grown up hating, shrouded in unpleasant memories and a disdain for celebration. But for the past three years, you’d been on a mission to change that. You wanted him to associate his birthday with joy, love, and the kind of memories worth cherishing. Slowly but surely, you were breaking through his walls.

The first year, it was just the two of you. You stayed in, baking him the perfect little cupcake with one candle perched on top. Thanos, stubborn and reserved as ever, refused to leave the house back then. But as he sat on the couch with you, laughing through cheesy rom-coms and licking frosting off his fingers, you could see something shift—a tiny crack in the armor.

The next year, you managed to coax him out of his comfort zone. A quiet dinner at a nice restaurant was a big step for him. He had been hesitant at first, but by the end of the night, he couldn’t stop smiling as he clinked his glass of wine against yours.

But this year was different. So much had changed.

You and Thanos were engaged now. The ring on your finger sparkled with the promise of forever. He had recently reconnected with his estranged mother, Choi Bong-Cha, a relationship that had taken years to rebuild. His new album, raw and brimming with emotion, had been a massive success, catapulting him to a level of fame he never thought he’d achieve. And soon, the two of you would embark on a three-month tour—your biggest adventure yet.

This birthday needed to be unforgettable.

Granted, Thanos had long since left his wild partying days behind. He didn’t want a rager or a night that would blur into oblivion. But that didn’t mean he’d get away with just another quiet evening. Not this time.

He was at the studio for most of the day, so you took full advantage of the time to prepare. The house was a whirlwind of activity as you decorated every inch with streamers, balloons, and glitter that sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the windows. The glitter was deliberate—Thanos hated the stuff, but you loved the idea of him muttering under his breath as he tried to clean it up later. You smiled at the thought, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Balancing precariously on a ladder, you stretched to hang a giant “Happy Birthday!” banner across the living room windows. You were so focused on your task that the sharp knock at the door startled you, almost sending you toppling off the ladder.

“Come in!” you called, steadying yourself.

The door creaked open, and Thanos’ mother, Bong-Cha, stepped inside, immediately gasping in horror.

“Get down from there this instant!” she scolded, hands on her hips. Her gaze shifted to your outfit—a pair of shorts and a snug tank top that showed just enough skin to earn her disapproval. “And what are you wearing? You call that appropriate?”

You climbed down, grinning sheepishly as you bowed in greeting. “Hi, Choi Bong-Cha.” you said and pulled her into a warm hug.

“You Americans,” she huffed, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless. “Always driving me crazy with your nonsense.”

You laughed as you took her hands. “I’ll change before the party, I promise. I was just finishing up the decorations.”

“Good. Now help me bring in the food before it gets cold,” she said.

The two of you worked side by side in the kitchen, unloading dishes and preparing the feast. Bong-Cha had embraced you as her future daughter-in-law with open arms. Seeing how happy you made Thanos had softened her heart, and she treated you with the love and care of a mother who had always wanted a daughter. She even helped Thanos pick out the engagement ring, a secret she loved to remind you of whenever she saw you wearing it.

As the kitchen filled with the smell of cooking food, you turned on a playlist from your teenage years. The nostalgic sounds of your 2007 emo phase filled the air, earning an exasperated sigh from Bong-Cha.

“This is music?” she teased, pretending to cover her ears.

“It’s art,” you said dramatically, twirling a spatula in your hand.

Before she could argue further, another knock sounded at the door. You hurried to answer, your heart leaping when you saw your grandmother standing on the other side.

“Halmeoni!” you exclaimed, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Look at you, dressed like this! Aigoo!” she clucked, shaking her head as she stepped inside. “Go change before your friends and fiancé arrive. This is no way for a young woman to present herself!”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’ll change, I’ll change!” you promised.

As you made your way to the bedroom, you muttered under your breath with a smirk, “As if Su-Bong hasn’t already explored every inch of my body.”

Your cheeks flushed at your own boldness, but you couldn’t help feeling giddy. This birthday was going to be perfect, filled with the people Thanos loved most. And as you slipped into a new outfit, you couldn’t wait to see his face when he walked through the door.

For Thanos, this birthday would be more than a celebration. It would be a reminder of how far he’d come—and how much love surrounded him now.

The muffled hum of conversation filtered through the walls, a lively symphony of laughter and voices mingling in the crisp evening air. You stood in front of the mirror, inspecting your reflection one last time. The tight, champagne-colored dress hugged your curves in all the right places, shimmering faintly under the bathroom lights. It was a bold choice, one you knew would earn scathing looks from your grandmother and Bong-Cha, but you weren’t dressing for them tonight. This was Thanos’ birthday, and you knew exactly what he loved.

A spritz of hairspray, a swipe of gloss on your lips, and you were ready—well, almost. Scanning the bathroom, you caught sight of the chaos you’d left behind: makeup scattered across the counter, clothes piled haphazardly on the floor, and—your eyes landed on the drawer, partially open. Heat rushed to your face. Right. The toys.

Shaking your head with a rueful grin, you quickly tidied up, shoving away any evidence of the “unholy things” you and Thanos indulged in nightly. With nosy elders roaming around, the last thing you needed was for anyone to wander into your private space and find those.

Satisfied with your cleanup, you turned to the closet, reaching behind a row of purses. Your fingers brushed against the small box wrapped in shimmering blue paper, topped with a pristine white bow. You pulled it out, a flicker of excitement sparking in your chest. This was your gift to Thanos—a surprise you’d been planning for weeks. You could hardly wait to see his reaction.

Clutching the box, you stepped out of the bedroom and into the chaos. The house was alive with energy. In the kitchen, Thanos’ close friends and family gathered, chatting animatedly over trays of snacks and drinks. The air buzzed with anticipation.

“Se-mi! Min-su!” you called out, your face lighting up as you spotted two familiar figures near the counter.

They turned at the sound of your voice, and before you knew it, you were enveloped in their warm embraces.

“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” you said, squeezing them tightly.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Min-su replied, his boyish grin reminding you of the shy, nerdy kid you’d first met years ago. Now, he looked at you and Thanos like older siblings, a bond that always filled your heart with gratitude.

Se-mi smirked, giving you a once-over. “That dress is going to send Halmeoni into orbit.”

You laughed, shrugging nonchalantly. “The night’s not about her.”

As if summoned by the mention of her name, your grandmother appeared, a flurry of indignation and disapproval. She scolded you in rapid-fire Korean, her voice rising with each word as she tried to pull your dress further down your legs.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you waved her off with a grin. “T is calling. Everyone quiet!”

Stepping into the foyer, you answered your phone. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, Señorita,” Thanos’ deep voice rumbled through the line. “I’m on my way home. Be there in five.”

“Can’t wait!” you replied, your smile widening as you hung up. Turning back to the kitchen, you clapped your hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, everyone hide! I’m going to throw on a robe so he doesn’t suspect anything. When I turn on the lights, jump out and yell ‘surprise’!”

The room erupted into quiet laughter and hurried footsteps as everyone scrambled to hide. You dashed back to the bedroom, slipping into the silky pink robe Thanos had given you during one of your more playful anniversaries. Its softness wrapped around you like a secret, concealing the tight dress underneath.

The sound of the front door unlocking sent a jolt of anticipation through you. You rushed to greet him, your heart racing as his tall frame filled the doorway.

“Hey, baby,” you said softly, pulling him into a kiss.

“Mmm, missed you,” he murmured against your lips, his hands sliding to your waist. His voice dropped, a low, dangerous whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “Can’t wait to be inside you…”

Your eyes widened as he pressed you against the wall, his hand slipping under the hem of your robe.

“Wait!” you gasped, squirming out of his grasp. “I have something to show you first!”

Thanos groaned, running a hand through his hair, but let you guide him toward the kitchen. “Baby, I just wanna—”

Before he could finish the sentence you knew would get him in trouble with his elders, you flicked on the lights.

“Surprise!” The room erupted with cheers and applause as everyone jumped out from their hiding spots.

Thanos froze, his eyes wide as they swept over the crowd, then landed on you. With a slow, deliberate motion, you let the robe slide off your shoulders, revealing the dress beneath.

“Happy birthday, baby,” you said, your voice brimming with excitement as you wrapped your arms around his neck, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

His hands found your hips, his grip firm as his gaze darkened. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, his voice laced with both amusement and frustration.

“I was about to fuck you in the middle of the living room. This dress? Not helping. And there’s glitter everywhere.”

A playful smirk tugged at your lips. “When everyone’s gone, you can take all your frustrations out on me.”

“Deal,” he growled, before straightening and turning to greet his guests, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As the night unfolded, filled with laughter, toasts, and the warmth of loved ones, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Thanos. The man who once dreaded his birthday now stood at the center of it all—happy, loved, and utterly yours.

The laughter and chatter around the room quieted as you emerged from the kitchen, carefully balancing the Oreo ice cream cake on its tray. It was adorned with little Marvel characters, each one meticulously placed—a miniature Iron Man here, a tiny Hulk there, and of course, Thanos himself standing triumphantly in the center.

As you approached the table, everyone cheered and clapped, and Thanos let out a sheepish laugh, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. But you knew better. Beneath his playful groan, his lips curved into a smile, his eyes soft with gratitude. He’d chosen the name “Thanos” for himself years ago, and the cake was your cheeky little nod to that—a reminder of how far he’d come from the brooding, self-doubting man he once was.

“Make a wish, baby,” you said softly, standing beside him.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he blew out the candles with one steady breath. The room erupted in applause, and you leaned down to plant a quick kiss on his temple.

After cutting the cake, you passed slices around the table, making sure everyone got a piece. The sound of forks clinking against plates and delighted murmurs filled the room as everyone dug in. But the festive mood only escalated when Bong-Cha and your grandmother started chanting in unison.

“Presents! Presents!”

You saw Thanos tense slightly, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. He had always felt awkward opening gifts in front of people, but you leaned in close and whispered, “Don’t worry, there’s just a few.”

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing just enough for you to gather the small pile of gifts from the corner of the room. The first one he opened was from your grandmother—a stunning pair of cufflinks, polished silver with delicate engravings.

“These are for the day you marry my granddaughter,” she said, her voice proud but thick with emotion.

Thanos bowed his head in thanks, his lips pressed into a grateful smile as he admired them.

Next came Bong-Cha’s gift. She handed it to him with a rare softness, her usually stern expression melting as he opened the small velvet pouch inside. His hands stilled as he pulled out the dog tags, their metal gleaming faintly under the lights.

“These belonged to your grandfather,” she said, her voice quivering. “He wanted you to have them one day. I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”

Thanos blinked rapidly, his eyes glistening. For a moment, it seemed like he might cry, but he quickly cleared his throat and placed the dog tags gently back into the pouch. He thanked her quietly, giving her a rare, heartfelt hug before moving to the next gift.

Se-mi and Min-su’s gift brought a genuine laugh from both him and you—a pair of small silver squid earrings, their diamond eyes glinting mischievously. Tucked alongside was a note that read:

"Your best and worst memory. You survived, and you found Y/N."

Thanos chuckled, his laughter tinged with something bittersweet. The four of you had never shared the full story with your families, but those earrings symbolized so much: the night you’d all met, the harrowing experience that bonded you, and the unbreakable little family you’d built ever since.

“Thank you,” he said simply, his voice quiet but brimming with meaning.

After a round of hugs and smiles, you stepped forward with a sly grin. “Wait! There’s one more…”

Thanos raised an eyebrow, his smile turning playful. “Señorita, you’re making me open more?”

“I think this one might be your favorite,” you teased, striding over to him and setting the small blue box in front of him. Leaning down, you placed a tender kiss on his cheek and whispered, “Happy birthday, my love.”

Thanos sighed, settling back into his seat as he opened the box. For a moment, he stared at its contents, his brow furrowing in confusion. Then his eyes widened, and he froze.

“You’re joking,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Inside the box was a pregnancy test. The pink plus sign was unmistakable, standing out starkly against the white plastic.

“You’re joking,” he repeated, picking it up to study it closer. His hands trembled slightly.

You smiled nervously, chewing on your bottom lip as you nodded. “No joke, baby.”

His head shot up, his wide, teary eyes locking onto yours. “Baby, y-you’re pregnant?”

“Mhmm.”

The room erupted in gasps and exclamations, but all you could focus on was Thanos. He stood abruptly, scooping you into his arms and spinning you around. His laughter rang out, joyous and unrestrained, as he pressed a deep, fervent kiss to your lips.

When he finally set you down, his cheeks were streaked with tears. He cradled your face in his hands, looking at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured. “You’re giving me a family.”

“Of course I am. You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met.” you whispered back, your voice cracking as tears welled up in your own eyes.

The rest of the evening was a blur of hugs, cheers, and endless congratulations. Bong-Cha cried openly, your grandmother held your hands tightly as she whispered blessings, and even Min-su and Se-mi couldn’t contain their excitement.

Eventually, you found yourself sitting beside Se-mi, who had been unusually quiet.

“You’re going to get so fat,” she teased, her tone light but her eyes misty.

“Don’t remind me,” you laughed, nudging her playfully. Then your expression softened. “Se-mi?”

“Don’t,” she warned, though her voice wavered.

“Se-mi,” you said gently, placing a hand on hers. “Will you be the godmother?”

Tears spilled over her cheeks as she tried to wipe them away quickly, failing miserably. Finally, she turned to you, her face breaking into a watery smile.

“Of course!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around you.

It was rare for Se-mi to show this kind of raw emotion, and you cherished every moment of it. She had been there through everything—your best friend, your sister in spirit, your rock.

As the party carried on around you, you looked across the room to Thanos. He was laughing with Min-su, the dog tags now hanging proudly around his neck, his eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them.

For the first time in a long time, Thanos wasn’t just celebrating a birthday. He was celebrating life. And the future had never looked so beautiful.

By 11 p.m., the house was finally beginning to quiet. Guests had filtered out one by one, their laughter and goodbyes still echoing faintly in the air. Min-su and Se-mi, however, had gotten far drunker than they’d intended. You had to practically guide them by the elbows to the guest rooms, their laughter sloppy and unfiltered.

Min-su flopped onto the bed with a groan, mumbling something incoherent, while Se-mi giggled uncontrollably, half-hanging off the doorway as you tried to steady her. “You guys are always the last ones standing,” you teased, tucking a blanket over Min-su.

“Not my fault your champagne tastes expensive,” Se-mi slurred with a grin, finally climbing into the other bed.

You rolled your eyes, smiling fondly. They were the only ones who ever occupied the guest rooms anyway. This was their second home, and it always warmed your heart to see them so at ease.

As you walked back toward the front door, your grandmother and Bong-Cha were lingering, still fussing over you. Your grandmother pressed her hands gently against your belly, murmuring prayers in soft, melodic Korean.

“Rest well, Halmeoni,” you said, taking her hands in yours as you kissed her cheek.

“Be careful, child. You must protect that baby.”

“I will. I promise.”

After her, you turned to Bong-Cha, who gave you an approving nod as she slipped on her coat. “You’ve made him very happy tonight,” she said.

You smiled at her warmly. “He deserves it.”

When the door finally clicked shut behind them, a heavy, contented silence filled the house. You turned the lock and exhaled, the weight of the evening finally settling over you. When you turned around, Thanos was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his dark eyes watching you.

“Do you hate me?” you asked in your cutest tone, prancing toward him with a teasing smile.

“Let’s see,” he began, his voice laced with mock annoyance. “You threw me a surprise party even though you know I hate surprises. You embarrassed me with a Marvel cake—cute, but still embarrassing. And there’s glitter everywhere. Everywhere.”

You smirked, swaying as you approached him, lifting the hem of your dress just enough to show a hint of thigh. “But?”

His expression softened instantly as his hands found your hips, pulling you flush against him. “But…” he said, his voice low, “I’ve never been fucking happier.” His lips pressed firmly to yours, tender but insistent. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I can’t believe you’re giving me a child…”

“You’re going to be such a good dad, Su-Bong,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

He winced slightly, but not from discomfort—it was rare you used his real name, and hearing it fall from your lips like a caress always unraveled him. “Go run the bath,” he murmured. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

You nodded, your smile radiant, and skipped off toward the master bathroom.

Thanos stayed behind for a moment, his hand slipping into his pocket. He pulled out the pregnancy test, the little pink plus staring back at him. It was surreal. His breath caught as he studied it, his chest tightening.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice breaking as tears slipped down his face. A soft, overwhelmed laugh followed. He tilted his head back, his shoulders sagging under the weight of gratitude. Whatever gods or fate had orchestrated this, he thanked them silently—for you, for this life, for this second chance he never thought he’d get.

Carefully, he placed the test on the mantle above the fireplace. It was small, but it was everything. He wanted to see it every day—a symbol of the life you were building together.

When he stepped into the bathroom, the lights were off, and the room glowed with the warm flicker of candlelight. Steam curled lazily from the soapy water filling the tub, and there you were, nestled in the bubbles, your hair pinned up, lashes fluttering as you met his gaze.

“Join me,” you said softly, your voice inviting, your smile luminous in the candlelight.

Without hesitation, Thanos stripped out of his clothes, letting them pool on the floor before stepping into the tub. The water rippled around him as he settled in opposite you, taking one of your feet into his hands. His fingers kneaded gently into the arch, his touch soothing yet intimate.

He leaned back slightly, his dark eyes roaming over you, drinking in your beauty. “Thank you,” he said after a moment. His voice was soft but heavy with meaning. “For today. For everything.”

You smiled, your cheeks flushing faintly. “Did you enjoy your party?”

“It was amazing,” he said, his lips curving into a small smile. His hands moved to your toes, his lips pressing soft kisses against them. “Your gift…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if words couldn’t capture how he felt. “You were right. It’s my favorite.”

Your grin widened, your heart swelling with joy. “C’mere,” you said, reaching for him.

Thanos shifted in the water, moving to your side of the tub. He pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in your ear as his hands gently traced patterns along your arms.

His hand moved gently beneath the water, his fingers grazing over your still-flat belly before traveling lower. The touch was tender, reverent, as if he was savoring every inch of you. His middle finger slipped through your slick folds, eliciting a soft moan from you that vibrated against his neck.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pressed a single finger inside you, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb grazing over your sensitive nipple. The warmth of the bath surrounded you, but it was nothing compared to the heat building between your bodies.

“Mmm, fuck, T…” you murmured, leaning your head back against his broad shoulder. You floated in his arms, completely at his mercy, your body melting into his.

His lips brushed your temple as he added a second finger, curling them just right, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. Your loud, unrestrained moan filled the room, your back arching as his fingers worked you with deliberate care. You could feel the press of his growing arousal against your lower back, a firm reminder of how much he wanted you.

“Feel good, baby?” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and intoxicating.

“So fucking good…” you whimpered, your voice breathy and needy as he curled his fingers again, hitting that perfect spot.

“T…” you gasped, your words barely audible, a desperate plea for more.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he murmured, his lips trailing to the shell of your ear before placing a slow, teasing kiss on your cheek.

“From behind, please…” you begged, your voice trembling with anticipation.

His lips quirked into a grin. “As you wish, princess.”

Gently, he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a heated intensity. “You taste incredible,” he said softly before helping you stand, the water cascading off your body as he positioned you at the edge of the tub.

You leaned forward, gripping the porcelain for balance as he knelt behind you. His hands gently spread your legs, and then his tongue found you, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. He took his time, savoring every part of you, his tongue exploring your folds with a mix of gentle licks and firm strokes.

Your whimpers filled the room as he worked you, his lips and tongue driving you closer to the edge. “Fuck, T! You’re going to make me cum!” you cried out, your thighs trembling.

He smiled against you, the vibrations of his chuckle sending another wave of pleasure through you. He pushed his tongue deeper, moving in and out, savoring the way your body responded to him. Just as you felt yourself begin to tighten, teetering on the edge of release, he pulled back, his lips glistening as he stood.

“You’re going to cum on my cock, princess,” he said, his voice husky and commanding.

“Mmmkay…” you whimpered, your desperation evident as you arched your hips, needing him.

He positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Think I can get you pregnant again?” he teased, his voice playful but filled with desire.

“You can certainly try…” you replied, your words a breathy challenge.

He chuckled softly before pressing into you, inch by inch, the stretch making your eyes roll back. No matter how many times you’d been with him, his size always took your breath away.

He started slowly, his movements deliberate, as though he wanted to memorize every sensation. He watched as his length disappeared into you, glistening with your arousal, the sight nearly undoing him.

“You tired, baby?” he asked, his voice thick with affection as he noticed your head resting lazily against the tub.

“No… Just feels so good…” you whimpered, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you.

His lips curved into a soft smile as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with more urgency. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, your breathing shallow as you neared the edge again.

“Shit, baby, I’m close,” he panted, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust faster.

The tension built between you until it finally snapped. You cried out his name, your body shaking as your release washed over you, your walls clenching around him. With a few more thrusts, he followed, groaning as he buried himself deep, his warmth flooding you.

He collapsed against your back, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he caught his breath. “Fuck, baby…” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with awe.

“You fuck me so good every time, T…” you whispered, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Guess that’s why we’re having a baby.”

He laughed with you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kissed your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out of you, both of you sighing at the loss. He reached for the drain, letting the water empty before grabbing a towel and carefully drying you off.

He took his time, rubbing lotion into your skin with gentle hands, his touch lingering with love. When you were dressed in your silky pink pajamas, and he had slipped on a pair of boxers, he led you to bed.

The moment your head hit the pillow, you sighed in relief, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. Thanos climbed in beside you, pulling you into his arms and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight, jagi. Thank you for everything,” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion.

“Love you forever, baby. Happy birthday,” you murmured against his chest, your words soft as sleep overtook you.

Thanos held you close, his heart full as he stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t stop picturing the future—a little one with your eyes and his smile running around the house. Tears pricked his eyes as he imagined the life ahead, a life filled with love, laughter, and the family he’d never thought he deserved.

He lay awake for hours, daydreaming about the life you were building together, until finally, sleep claimed him, his arms wrapped securely around you.

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