#surprised there's not one of this yet.. not even from back then (taking one for the team)

[zeltqz]

PICS & VIDEOS — caleb

✈︎ content warning | references hidden waves memory (sick caleb), phone sex, i made tara a freak cuz why not, simone hates caleb lol, suggestive texts, lingerie photos, caleb sends a dp, reader sends her wet fingers lol, no actual sex yet, just phone sex, sexually frustrated reader, caleb whimpers cuz i want him to, colonel caleb era, caleb abuses emoticons lol i love him ✈︎ synopsis | you are getting sick and tired of caleb always pulling away from potential kisses. frustrated, you take it up with your friends who give you advice on how to get him to fold. send him pics.

“I’m telling you Tara, he literally won’t make the first move. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

Tara rubbed her chin. “Hm. And you’re sure he likes you?”

Beside you, Simone scoffed. “Unfortunately yes. It’s obvious.”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to address her one-sided beef with Caleb. “Yes, Tara.”

“How is it obvious? I only met him once.”

“And you couldn’t see how obvious it was?” Simone added, genuinely surprised Tara missed the obvious clues. “He wouldn’t stop staring at her like all day. The whole time we ate, he was just staring at her. Not even subtle too. I would’ve thought you two kissed by now, or at the very least fucked.” Simone looked at you now. “Seriously, why don’t you just make the first move?”

“I dunno?! It’s weird…and as much as I dream about just grabbing his face and kissing him, in the moment I just chicken out…”

Tara hummed, stroking her chin again. “I see. I see. And you know for certain he likes you? Besides the staring, and all.”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You looked down at the table, at the fries sitting on your tray, reminiscing about the last time you were in Skyhaven. 

Caleb had caught a cold from standing in the rain for too long, and the two of you were on awkward terms after an argument. He didn’t want you to see him while sick but eventually relented and let you inside his room. You checked his temperature and he was burning up, so you didn’t want to take your hands off his face, caressing his red cheeks, embracing his warmth. You sang for him, and he leaned in, and you just knew it’d finally be the moment you kissed. You even closed your eyes shut, waiting to feel his lips against yours, but he pulled himself away and turned to the side. Obviously you were frustrated, no denying that, and you were about to just leave his room before he pulled you in for a hug. Though you didn’t kiss, the hug was more intimate than you’d imagined. Every time Caleb was sick, even in the past, he rarely let you see him in that state. To see him so weak and vulnerable, unable to stop coughing, his red cheeks and ears. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to just be with him.

You were unaware of how long you were just staring off into space as you recalled the memory from a few weeks ago. Tara and Simone share a look with each other. 

“Um, hello?” Simone waved in front of your face. You blinked yourself back to reality and looked between the both of them. Simone got a good look at your face and clicked her tongue. “You’re so whipped.”

“I’m not!”

Tara cheered. “Wait, were you thinking about him?!” She questioned, and your face flushed even harder. You looked away, and she cheered even louder. “Tell me what you were thinking about!”

Simone, who’d rather die than admit she was curious, rested her elbow on the table, cheek in palm as she turned to look at you, waiting for the explanation.

You sighed and told them the story in extreme detail about your last encounter with Caleb in Skyhaven. Though it started on bad terms, the two of you had been even closer than before. You text every single day whenever he can respond, and when he’s unable to come to the phone, you always spam him with funny videos, and emojis. And he responds to every single one of them. You two fall asleep on the phone almost every night, if he doesn’t come home too late from work, and wake up to see either him still dead asleep, or the call being cut, but he always follows it up with:

Sorry for hanging up, i had to head to work ;-; ill text you as soon as i come back :D 

You hadn’t spoken to him in the last few days though, as he was leading a team to explore the Deepspace Tunnel and would be out of service for at least 5 days. It’s only day 3 and you’ve been missing him so much, it’s crazy. He’s what you think of when you fall asleep, and wake up. You’re not even safe from him in your dreams.

“I’ve got a question,” Tara says, raising her hand up.

“Proceed.” You gesture for her to continue.

She leaned in across the table, cupping her hand around her mouth. “Can I be the maid of honour at your wedding?”

“TARA!” you exclaim. Simone nearly snorts her milkshake up her nose at your reaction. The two of them start laughing and you chuckle a bit yourself. They continue talking and you whip out your phone to open your messages with Caleb, eying the message you sent him this morning.

08:44 I just woke upppp. I’m heading to lunch with some friends today!!! I’ll send you some photos you can salvate over once u get back

You swipe to the camera and snap a photo of your half eaten burger with fries, sending it in chat with a yummy emoji.

13:33 Bet u wish this was u huhhhhhhhhhhh

You throw the fact he has to be on a strict diet in his face, adding a few random emojis before turning off your phone. 

“She was texting him just now,” Simone’s voice startled you. 

“No I wasn’t.”

���Look at that grin on your face.”

You quickly drop the smile you didn’t know existed off your face. “I’m not grinning!”

“You so are!” Simone cackled, leaning into your personal space, eyeing your phone. “Show me what you said.”

“It’s not much,” you say, turning your phone back on. “Just send him a picture of my food.”

Simone looked at the one sided replies, how you’ve been spamming him with messages for the last three days and he hasn’t been online since. She raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, is he ghosting you?”

“What? No.” You take your phone back and hand it to Tara who was struggling to see from the other side of the table. “He’s just on a mission right now. Five days long. I always spam him with he’s unavailable. He says I can tell him whatever is on my mind.”

“Mm-hm,” Simone hummed.

“You know what would be so crazy?” Tara said, scrolling through your messages. 

“What?” you and Simone say in unison.

“If you sent him nudes.”

You nearly choked on air, Simone’s eyes widening at the words coming out of Tara’s mouth. 

“It’s always the innocent looking ones, huh.”

Tara giggled. Meanwhile you were still in a state of shock. 

“Um??? Isn’t that a bit far?”

“Well, no,” Tara defended. “Think about it. You two are basically dating already, just haven’t made it official. And you said you want him to make the first move right? How will he know if its okay to do or not if he doesn’t know you are just as into him as he’s into you? And since you don’t wanna kiss him first, show him you’re into him at least with a few picturesssssss.”

On the surface she wasn’t wrong, you couldn’t deny that. Growing up, Caleb had seen your body before, it wasn’t unusual. Beach days where you were mainly in bikinis, heatwaves where you were wearing mainly shorts and crop tops. He’d even walked in on you changing a few times, and vice versa. It wouldn’t be anything he hadn’t vaguely seen before. But the thought of actually doing it make a knot form in your stomach. But it also made arousal pool between your legs at the thought of him seeing you in a different light.

Maybe this would be the transition you both needed to take your relationship to a different level.

You finally spoke after a while of contemplation. “I mean, sure. But I’ve never taken any before. I don’t even own sexy clothes.”

Simone waved you off. “It’s not that hard. Men are so easy to please. I got you.” She finished her milkshake in a few sucks and set the empty cup down on the table. “Come on, let’s go shopping.”

“Shopping?” you questioned.

Tara squealed. “Shopping, yes!” She quickly got up from her seat and dragged you out of yours. 

Tara and Simone led you out of the food court  and into Victoria’s Secret a few floors down. The three of you spent the next two hours picking different outfits, ranging from two piece sets, to one pieces, bralettes and panties. You ended up spending more than you thought you would’ve but it was all worth it. 

You took them back to your house and the photoshoot began. Was it awkward at first? Yes. You barely wore tight fitted, revealing outfits, especially ones as sexual as this. But after a few test photos, your body loosened up and you gradually became more confident. 

“Press your boobs together,” Tara shouted from behind the camera. You were laying flat on your back, your head hanging off the bed as you stared into the camera. 

“This position looks silly,” you comment. 

“You look smoking hot though!!”

Simone moves behind Tara and bends down to peek at the camera. She wrinkled her nose. “I agree. It looks a bit silly.”

You sat up, sighing. “Thank you.”

“Okay wait, what about sucking a finger into your mouth? Would Caleb be into that? Ooh! Or arching your back on the bed?” The longer you spent with Tara today, you realised she’s not as innocent as she looks. She really is the mastermind behind the operation. From picking out each lingerie set, to looking up seductive posts on Pinterest to make you copy. 

“Are the ones we took now not enough?” you asked, muscles and back aching from bending over and twisting your body in such unnecessary positions. 

“If you’re this tired after some nudes, how are you gonna get the stamina to get fucked hard by Caleb?” Tara retorted. 

“I—”

Simone grabbed the phone and began scrolling through the photos. She picked out one she really liked and turned the phone to you. “This is the one you should send.”

It wasn’t any of the over the top poses Tara suggested. It was plain and simple but it got the job done. You were laying flat on the bed, holding the camera up in the form of a selfie, and biting your fingernail. The camera covered everything from your lips, down to your mid thigh, covered in fishnets from the lingerie.  

“This one? Really?” you asked as you examined the photo. You weren’t denying you looked hot in it, but doubts were starting to fill your mind. What if he thinks you’re being desperate? Or if he thinks it’s distasteful to expose yourself like this for no reason. Though you know Caleb would never think of you that way, your brain can’t help but convince you otherwise. 

“Or or maybe I should just delete them,” you request in a panic as Tara and Simone go through all the photos to see if there’s any better ones. 

Upon hearing your request, Tara nearly breaks her neck with how quickly she looked up. “ExCUZE ME?! Delete them?! For what???! Why!”

“Because! What if he doesn’t like them? Or thinks I’m…desperate?” You scratch your arm, looking down at your thighs. 

Simone’s nose twitched. “Then I’ll beat his ass.”

Tara added. “Well, it’ll suck if he does. But with how you described him, I don’t think he’d look at you that way. And if he does, you can always just say “oops meant to send to someone else” to save face. OH! We can even do the prank where we dress up as a boy and take photos to make him jealous!”

Hearing that, Simone smirked. “I’ll happily do that for you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No you’re right. Caleb wouldn’t do that. He’s never as much belittled me or even insulted me before in my life. I genuinely cant think of a negative think he’s said to me.”

“Soooooooo what’s the holdup?” Tara commented. 

You shrugged. “I’ll send it. I just need time to process before I do it.” They both deadpanned you and you continued, feeling the urge to defend yourself. “You guys won’t understand! I’ve known him for over a decade! Almost 14 years! This kinda stuff you don’t send to someone like that without at least thinking it through.”

“You’re right,” they both hesitantly agreed. 

You don’t end up sending Caleb the picture that night. Or the night after that. The day he’s supposed to return from his mission, you’re in bed, scrolling back through your messages. With no fault of yours, you had gone months without contact with him, assuming he was dead and all, but now you can barely even handle a few days. 

His profile displayed a green dot beside his name and you sat up quickly, eyes darting all over your messages and seeing the “Read” Message pop up on each one. 

He responds to each of them one by one, and your smile can’t stop growing as you see him reach the final message, the one about the burger. 

Now you’re just showing off >:( 

Anyway I’m back safe and sound from my mission did ya miss me ;)

yes so much

You responded without missing more than a second. 

Oh didn’t expect you respond that quickly you MUSTVE missed me that bad huh

How much did u miss me? 

You could tell him straight up. Tell him about how you read his messages everyday, thought about him almost every second for the last five days. Or you could just show him. 

You opened your camera roll and picked out the photo. Your thumb trembled over the send button before finally pressing down on it. Your stomach dropped as you saw it send in chat officially. It was too late now. 

Caleb read it and stayed quiet. Thirty seconds passed and he didn’t respond and you felt like you wanted to throw up. Your thumbs were already typing out Tara’s excuse: oh sorry! I meant to send that to someone else 

And before you could press send, Caleb responded. 

Is that for me?

You swallowed. If you said yes, and he hated it, then your excuse wouldn’t work anymore. You decided to risk it all and simply respond truthfully. 

Yes. Is it…bad?

Caleb takes longer to respond than usual and less than thirty seconds later a picture sends in chat. His cock stands tall in frame, precum leaking out from the tip. His hand has a firm grin around the base off it, the tip a reddish hue in comparison to its natural pink colour.

Your breathing stopped as you stared at it. This was Caleb’s dick. You were fucking staring at his dick. 

You swiped out of the picture and sent a 😧😯😮😲 combination. The two of you often communicated through emojis and you weren’t sure how to respond with words. 

Caleb sent crying emojis. 

Did you like it?

Yes? You’ve been hiding that the whole time? 

Says you. I knew your body was gorgeous but fuck. 

You fought the urge to kick your feet together, curling into a ball on your side as you tried to not let his words get to you. Clearing your throat, you refocus yourself and send another message. 

Sooooo what now 🧍‍♀️

I dunno 🧍

You get ready to type a response before he double texts. 

Do you wanna call?

You never thought you’d see the day you’d actually be nervous answering a call from Caleb before. 

Yes

You barely had time to let the message marinate before Caleb started calling. Readying yourself, you pressed the phone up to your ear and swiped. 

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he responded, taking a deep breath. “Is it just me or is this sorta awkward now.”

“No it’s definitely awkward,” you joked, laughing under your breath. 

“I mean, I can always blame you for it.”

“What?” You almost shrieked and broke your back with how quick you sat up from your bed. “How is this my fault?!”

“Nobody asked you to send me that sexy photo out of nowhere,” he joked, tone light despite his words. You didn’t take anything to heart however. 

“Yeah, well be grateful. Otherwise you would’ve died without seeing a girl in lingerie before.”

“How do you know I haven’t seen that before?”

“Because I know you, Caleb.” You said each word slowly. “Or at least I hope you haven’t.” You paused, voice softening ever so slightly. “Have you?”

“I was joking around. Of course I hadn’t. I am assuming though you’d never seen another guys dick before?”

“Well obviously I have. Like in movies and stuff. But not in person.”

“What kind of movies were you watching?” he questioned, suspiciously. 

“You know! Just movies! Shut up,” you whined, ignoring his obnoxious laughter. “Anyway, dudes sent me unsolicited pics in college all the time. I’ve seen dicks before. They weren’t like yours though.” The words spilled from your mouth without even realising you said it. 

“Oh? What’s the difference between mine and theirs?”

You didn’t realise the interest in his tone with how distracted you were, eyes closed and picturing the sight of Caleb’s dick in the black fog of your mind. You could always go back and look at the photo, but you wanted to burn the sight in your memory first. 

“Yours was bigger. And for once, looking at a dick didn’t make me wanna throw up. Theirs were so…ew. Like it was never hard, which is so fucking offensive. If you’re gonna send me that shit unsolicited by the way, at least sprout a hard on or something. Fucking hell.”

Caleb laughed. “You should’ve seen how quick your picture got me hard. It’s not normal.” His voice dropped a little and you inhaled sharply. 

“R—really?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, sounding slightly out of breath, his breathing ragged. 

“What did you like about it?” you questioned, shifting down onto your back on the bed. 

“Everything. Fuck. You—why are you so hot?” His voice betrayed him at that moment. He let out a soft moan and you could hear wet sounds in the background if you listened close enough. 

Your hand trailed down your stomach, entering your panties and softly rubbing your clit. “W—what else?” 

“Your skin. Looks so soft—mm—and your lips around your finger? Holy fuck.” His filter was long gone now, freely speaking his mind about your body. Your thighs clenched together. 

“Do you wish they were wrapped around something else?”

“God yes,” he sounded so whiny, his hand moving faster up and down his aching cock. “You don’t know how much I love your lips.” He says your name and for a moment you freeze up. 

It’s not often he says your name, and you’ve been so used to just hearing him address you as Pipsqueak. Hearing your name roll off his tongue so easily, and with how whiny he sounds right now, you couldn’t help but insert a finger into yourself. 

Your legs twitched as you began pumping your finger in and out, back arching off the bed and an involuntary moan left your throat. “Caleb—”

“Yes, princess? What is it?”

“I wanna see you so bad right now—mm—fuck.” You gasped as you curled your fingers inside you, shoving them as deep as you could. “I need you.”

“I need you more. Shit. I’m gonna cum soon,” he announced, squeezing the tip of his cock whenever his hand reached it. 

“It’s hard to make myself come,”  you whined. You were never able to successfully have an orgasm on your own and it was frustrating. You wanted nothing more than to experience it first hand right now with Caleb. 

“I’ll help you. Shit. I can teach you. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Next time I see you, I promise.”

“Please,” your voice barely reached the mic. 

“Fuck!” he let out a loud moan as he came, heavy pants slowly turning to whimpers as his cock milked him dry. He couldn’t control his breathing for at least thirty seconds and you just listened to him pant until he caught himself. 

Letting out one more shaky exhale, he tried to swallow but his throat was dry. “Fuck my throat hurts.”

You laughed and pulled your fingers out. Unable to reach an orgasm, you frowned. But the promise he left earlier gave you hope. 

“Go drink some water dummy.” You looked down at your fingers, glistening with your slick and contemplated. “Wait Caleb.”

“Hm?”

“Check chat.”

You put the phone on speaker and opened the chat camera, taking a photo of your wet index and middle finger, a string of slick connecting them both. You captioned it:

Drink me instead

Feeling more bold, you sent it without even batting an eye. You could hear the exact moment Caleb processed your message with his sharp inhale.  You heard the sound of screenshots being taken, once, twice, then three times. 

“Okay okay damn chill out,” you said while laughing, Caleb joining in. 

“What does it taste like?” he asked, utterly curious. 

“Come find out,” you responded, voice just as sultry as your words. 

“Don’t tempt me. I’ll come over right now.”

“Wait now?” You glanced at the clock, the time reading almost 2 am. “You have work in the morning don’t you?”

“So what? I have bigger priorities right now.”

On one hand it would be so wrong for the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel to miss work over some pussy, but on the other hand, you hated the goddamn fleet. 

“Well what are you waiting for?”

authors note: can i just say i literally love this man with everything in me like WTF???? HES SO CUTE AND HOT AND I JUST WANNA SQQUEEZE HIS FACE

he brought me out of my writers slump😩🙇🏽‍♀️

[2cupids]

warnings? stripper!reader, implied black!reader but everyone’s can read, riding, semi public sex, BIG DICK NANAMI, he gets one look at reader and is lowkey infatuated w her. mdni (17+)

length. 3.5k+ ….

salaryman!nanami considers himself a fairly straight edged person.. aside from the occasional drink.

he’s a man who goes by the books, always following things to a T and seeing them all the way through.

never has he been swayed by peer pressure or to follow a crowd, he’s always been independent-minded. so when a certain coworker of his, told him he needs to find a way to unwind and suggested he go to a strip club to relieve some of his stress, he found the idea revolting.

it was no secret that his coworker, satoru gojo, indulged in many of the taboo things in life and that was far from any lifestyle nanami would ever lead. normally, he would’ve never entertained such an idea, simply pushing it out of his head and going on with his uneventful day. though for whatever reason, gojo’s words replay in his mind like a broken record as the week drags on, and once friday night arrives, nanami finds himself parked outside a strip club towards the edge of town. one hand stays gripped around the steering wheel as his mind flashes what the possible implications of him coming here might give off to the other patrons, staff, and especially the girls.

he swallows thickly, unsure why he’s putting so much thought into this. it’s not like he has to stay if he doesn’t like it, right? but there’s a little part of him that wants to venture out of his comfort zone and see what draws in so many men to watch these girls dance. plus, he withdrew a generous amount of money out of his fat checking account just incase he does have a good time. with a shaky breath, he turns the ignition off and grabs his wallet, stepping out of the car and straightening his tie.

once inside the club, he takes a seat towards the back of the joint, far from the stage in hopes that’ll help calm his racing heart. the dark atmosphere of the club is illuminated with colorful lights that shine towards the stage onto the dancers and dimmed recessed lighting that’s scattered around the building. the sleek inside is a pleasant surprise to the seedy look that the outside holds. as the waitress circulates around the club to take orders, he orders a drink and tells himself to relax. by the time the waitress comes back with his drink, he tips her and takes a sip of his whiskey and settles back into his seat. as his mind quiets down and his heart rate slows, he catches the last few seconds of the current dancer’s set before she collects her money and walks off the stage. now it’s time for the next girl to step on stage and do her thing.

you.

the first thing nanami’s eyes land on the way the neon lights hit your pretty, brown skin as you strut onto stage. the skimpy lingerie outfit consisting of a bikini top and thong, is paired with an equally matching itty bitty skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination. nanami’s eyes are locked on you. he lets his gaze drift over your body briefly, but it doesn’t linger. the thought doesn’t even cross his mind of doing so, finding any ogling of the sort incredibly disrespectful.

music of your chance that you asked the dj to play, booms throughout the club as you work the pole skillfully. the way you move so elegantly, yet confident at the same time, fascinates him and it’s got him feeling like he could watch you dance forever.. literally. everytime you make eye contact with the patrons and your eyes wander towards the back of the club and meet his, his heart stutters in his chest. and maybe it’s just him, but he swears your eyes stay on him a few seconds longer than any of the other guys.

within minutes, he finds himself gravitating closer towards the stage and before he knows it, your set winding down after a four songs. he hurriedly pulls his wallet out and throws multiple ten and twenty dollar bills on stage, mentally sighing because he would like to see you again but he realizes he probably can’t. and that’s when gojo’s words pop into his head again. he could pay for a vip room.

nanami wonders if you’ll come out to the floor, so he can talk to you but as the minutes pass and you’re nowhere to be seen, nanami starts to lose hope. then he sees you walking towards the bar and he pushes his nerves aside and approaches you. “um.. excuse me, miss. do you offer vip rooms?” he asks, his voice carrying the slightest bit of hesitancy for such a usually self-assured man. it also doesn’t help that you’re even more stunning up close in person.

as you turn and face the potential customer, your expression changes into a more friendly, playful one at the idea of selling a room. “i do. how long are you interested in staying, babe?”

nanami’s heart flutters and he thinks for a moment. “oh, i guess thirty minutes sounds good.”

you hum and walk over to a table, ushering him to follow you. “thirty minutes is six hundred and champagne isn’t included in that. let me tell you everything a vip room with me includes. okay?” it would be rude to cut you off as you go over the perks of paying for a room with you, but he could really care less. the perks, the price, none of that matter to him. he just wants to see you again, just to simply be able to be in your presence is enough for him.

a bouncer leads him towards the vip rooms section and he can hear his heart pounding in his ears, nearly drowning out the music in the club. he steps inside the room and takes a seat, watching you step up on the stage. the sensual music you chose starts playing and you begin doing a mix of both floor work and pole work, unlike what you were doing minutes earlier out on the main stage. being close enough to observe you for a prolonged time now, not only are you beautiful, but he notices just how much the ginger color of your hair compliments your skin and the words slip out before he realizes. “that hair color is gorgeous on you.”

a knowing look appears in your eyes and you smirk, winking at him. “thank you, i know.”

it’s so embarrassing, but the action shoots straight down to his dick and his slacks tighten a just tiny bit. the way you maintain eye contact with him all throughout the first song is like you’re purposely teasing him, and he doesn’t know if he’ll last twenty-something minutes like this.

when the next song comes on, a more sultry one, that’s the signal it's time for a lap dance to match the vibe of the song. you stand up and look down at him from the stage, that lively expression from before is back on your face. “so what’s your name, handsome?” you descend down the steps and walk over to him, flipping your hair as you lean forward, holding onto his muscular thighs as you look him straight in the eye.

“n-nanami, miss.” he stutters, eyes glued to where your hands caress his strong thighs. he gulps as his eyes trail up the smooth skin of your arms and he succinctly eyes your tits in that silly little bikini top you’re wearing before his eyes land on your pretty face, hoping you didn’t notice.

you laugh and crack a smile, amused at his respectful tone. “miss? that’s a first. i’ve never heard anyone call me that here before.” nanami’s actually so surprised about that, but then again he remembers the culture here is indeed different.

wonderstruck is the only word to describe the way nanami feels as you dance for him. the confidence you exude pulling off such provocative moves is a turn-on he never knew he even had. your hands run along the sides of your body as you move and although he tries not to be impolite, he can’t help but let his eyes occasionally flicker over your body and linger on certain parts for longer than he’d like to admit.

it’s probably just him and his anxiousness, but he finds the silence awkward and uncomfortable despite the loud music playing. nanami clears his throat and speaks up. “may i ask your name as well?”

you take a seat on the edge of his lap and lean against him, reaching your arm back to hold his neck. “you can call me jasmine,” you whisper and somehow his body goes even more stiff underneath you. “and don’t forget you can touch me if you want, nanami.” you get up slowly from his lap, making sure to arch your back and you immediately move into the next move of shaking your ass as you’re bent over in front of him.

his eye twitches and a deep, throaty groan makes it way past his lips. fuck, why did you have to make things difficult for him?

lowering yourself to the ground, you kneel in front of him and your hands move up his thighs once again as they come in dangerously close proximity to his crotch as your fingertips graze his abdomen over his button up. with everything happening, on top of the eye contact, he could swear it’s like he’s having an out of body experience.

“what brought you here, nanami? i’m curious.” you question, a teasing undertone in your voice. “you don’t seem like the type to frequent strip clubs.”

nanami continues to sit there like a fool, simply staring at your beautiful face, trying to find the strength and willpower to form a coherent thought. he’s having so many firsts tonight and it’s overwhelming, but he can’t bring himself to leave or pull away. he won’t. “i, um.. a coworker suggested it. and i’ve been stressed from work, so i thought it might do me a little good to come here. take a load off.”

the wheels in your head start to turn and a thought suddenly comes to you as he reveals his motive. “you’ve been stressed, huh? what do ya do?”

“i work in stocks.. just making other people rich.” he sighs, a flash of emptiness crossing his eyes.

“oh really?” you stand up and throw one leg onto the couch, followed by the other one as you straddle him. you look in his eyes and wrap your arms around his neck. depending on his answer, this could be the last move for this lap dance before you move into some other routine else, or the dancing could end right here. “what would you say if i offered another way to help relieve your stress?”

nanami cocks an eyebrow, intrigued about what you could possibly be talking about. he thinks he has an faint inkling of what you could possibly be insinuating, but he doesn't want to jump to conclusions or get any wrong ideas. “what way are you talking about?”

actions speak louder than words. your hips move to grind slowly against his as you look at him without saying anything. nanami understands what you’re talking about and he responds in a low, quiet voice. “oh.”

“mhm. and that’ll add on another thirty minutes on to your time. and for this.. special service, it’ll bring the total cost to twenty five hundred dollars. what do you say?”

your thumb runs along his sharp jawline and your hand runs down his chest. he breath catches in his throat and he nods. “yeah.. yeah. i don’t care about the price, i’ll give you anything.”

you glanced at his fingers as you discussed what your vip room consists of out on the floor and you didn’t see a wedding band, and you still don’t see or feel one but it won’t hurt to ask. “you married or anything, nanami?”

“no, i’m single.” he’s still slightly dazed that he’s really going through with this.

“the ladies are missing out then,” a smirk graces your glossy lips as you move to unbuckle his pants and you take him in your hand, silently marveling at his size. “and i don't want you to get the wrong idea or anything.. i don’t do this. ever.”

he makes a small sound of acknowledgement, eyes going down to your long, acrylic nails adorning your fingers as your hand wraps around his dick, pumping him. he’s already half hard and you teasingly rub your finger across the tip, causing him to suck in a heavy breath. you’re about to ask him if he has protection when he places a hand on your back and moves to slide his wallet out of his pocket, opening it and taking out a condom.

oh yeah. he’s different just like you thought, you didn’t even need to ask him. you’re finding more reasons to like him.. platonically of course. at least for now.

you take the condom from his hand and notice the gold magnum wrapper has ‘xl’ on it and you find it amusing in a such attractive way. the condom is held in between your teeth as you keep stroking his length. your hand doesn't even fit half way around his girthy cock, he’s big. nanami sighs quietly, mumbling out a quiet curse underneath his breath.

you tear the shiny foil of the wrapper and roll the rubber down his cock, the material fitting him just like a glove. you place a hand on his shoulder and line him up with your entrance. the man’s large hands finally come up to touch you, carefully placing themselves on the sides of your hips and nanami’s deep brown eyes look up at you as his heart hammers in his chest. “jasmine,” nanami breathes deeply. “take your time, please. i– uh, i’ve been told before that it hurts..”

the concern he shows is incredibly sweet, especially for stranger and for the first time in a while, it makes you nervous, yet you don’t break character, no matter what.

you grin and give him a questionable look. “you think i can’t handle it? but thanks for the warning.” you slowly lower yourself down onto his thick penis and your eyes flutter shut, your eyebrows knitting together as you suck in a sharp breath from the stretch. nanami rubs at your hip gently, silently encouraging you and eventually you settle down into his lap after fitting all eight inches or however many inches inside you. your eyes gleam with a hint of mischievousness as you laugh, breaking the silence between the two of you, “fuck.”

nanami smiles for the first time tonight– actually for the first time in a while– his worn eyes crinkling slightly at the sides. “i know, but you’re doing great and damn.. i have to say that you feel wonderful around me.” he murmurs, his dark eyes still peering up at you as his voice drops towards the end of his statement.

you lift yourself off his cock and lower yourself back down, repeating the motion and letting your pussy get accommodated to being split open by something so big and thick. your other arm comes up to grip his shoulder and his hands tighten around your hips as you move against his lap, finding a good rhythm for yourself.

soft pants and whines slip out from your lips as you bounce in nanami’s lap, his dick fitting nice and snug between your walls with each drag of your hips. meanwhile, nanami is still stuck on how he’s got a literal goodness in his lap, riding him and making him feel good. he doesn’t feel worthy. truthfully, speaking his brain is on the verge of short circuiting right this very moment.

your movements come to a halt as you grind your clit against his pelvis and that propels his meaty length even deeper inside you and a breathy moan leaves your mouth. you whine your hips in a circle, keeping eye contact with him and nanami swears he could die peacefully at this very moment. then you resume your motions and he’s back on cloud nine.

quiet grunts and sounds of pleasure leave nanami, he’s never been a particularly loud lover. his hands roam up your curves and situate themselves on your waist, holding you tighter as he realizes he’s getting close. his head rests back against the couch as your warmth engulfs him and it gives him a mouth watering view of the point at which your bodies connect. he watches how your pussy streches to take in his girth. he believes you’re one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on, but the beauty of you on top him using his dick to please both of you is something else completely.

“uhhh… ‘m getting– fucking close,” the words come out strained as he grits his teeth, the feeling of you squeezing around him having an unimaginable affect on him right now. “you close, sweetheart?” he grunts, eyes flickering up to your as he notes the pleasure etched into your pretty features as your soft bottom lip is tucked between your teeth.

when he sees you shake your head, he immediately moves into action. he’s not going to finish before he helps you get there. “i hope you don’t mind me touching you.” nanami eyes your face for any signs of opposition as his hand comes in contact with your clit, but there’s none. instead, your body twitches from the very welcomed touch and your lip falls from its place between your teeth, letting a plethora of moans come spilling out.

nanami bucks his hips up to meet yours and it’s got you reeling. his cock bumps against your g-spot so deliciously as you both your hips meet each other in the middle. nanami rubs at your clit faster and you’re starting to get close, tears well up in your eyes from the feeling. “oou fuck baby! right there, don’t stop!”

your pretty sounds are like music to his ears as he watches your body tremble from pleasure above him from your orgasm. your walls flutter around him and he’s close to losing it, too. his arms wrap securely around your waist as he takes the lead, holding your tired body close against his and pressing his face into your soft boobs as he fucks you, his thrusts turn more erratic as he approaches his orgasm.

condensation forms against your tits as he heaves and pants into your chest as he gets closer. one final thrust of his hips up into you and his body stills against yours, his dick pulsating and throbbing as he cums. you can feel the hot spurts of semen line the condom and it feels so warm inside you that it almost has you salivating.

“that was amazing.. thank you.” nanami whispers, and you hum softly.

the both of you stay like that for a moment. nanami’s strong arms holding you against him with his face still buried between your tits and your face nestled against the crook of his neck. once you hear nanami’s breathing steady, you kiss the side of his throat, letting your lips ghost up his skin until you’re next to his ear. “you’ll come back and see me... won’t you, nanami?”

a shiver goes down his spine and he nods, unwrapping his arms from around your form to let you go. his dick slips out of you as you proceed to lift yourself off his lap and stand up, curiously looking at him and awaiting his answer as you stand up and fix your thong and micro skirt.

“of course i will. i..i’d like to see you more. maybe get to know you a bit if that’s alright with you.”

after finishing up the vip room with nanami and cleaning up, you leave three thousand dollars richer that night– and that’s not even including the money you made from earlier in your shift– and with a new regular who doesn’t mind spending big money on you for your time. he’ll actually turns out to be the best regulars you’ll ever have.

nanami leaves feeling much more composed and relaxed then he can remember being in ages, and no, it’s not just from the fact he got laid. he’s left with something new to preoccupy his mind other than work and his handful of hobbies, too– you. maybe he’s got his hopes up and he’s being too optimistic, but either way it’s very uncharacteristic of nanami because he can’t stop thinking about how he wouldn’t mind if something more came from this.

oh, and most importantly, he has to thank that annoying co-worker of his, gojo, for pushing him to live a little more once they get back on monday.

cleo’s note. hope y’all enjoyed one of the rare times i wrote about protected sex lol. anyways happy bhm. this is dedicated to all my fellow blk baddies. ilyyy 🫶🏾

tags <3 @cheezemanz @tojicvmslut

[downbadf0rficppl]

love in the dark

Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Summary: You're used to being Natasha's in the dark, where no one can see you, but what if all the hiding causes insecurities to rear their head and make you question if you are even good enough for this job?

Word Count: 12.5K (CRAZY IK)

AN: Maybe - definitely - OOC Natasha, but I wanted to get my annoyance out somewhere. It's been a long week *crying face*. Anyway, I can't write anything angsty (dk if I would classify this as angst angst but ya know) without a lil bit of fluff at the end so yh. Also sorry that the plot is a bit shit - I haven't reread this and it was a lil bit word-vomity?? Will reread and edit eventually haha. HEA, hurt/comfort vibes? :P

Take your eyes off of me so I can leave

I'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me

The dim light of morning filters through the curtains as you quietly gather your things, your heart a tangled mess of emotions you’d rather not confront. Natasha’s apartment is always neat—pristine, even in its chaos—but today it feels colder than usual. The aftermath of the night lingers in the air: the weight of intimacy, of bodies pressed together, of shared moments that somehow don't leave a mark, yet always seem to hang over you.

You move with practiced ease, pulling on your clothes, the soft rustle of fabric breaking the stillness. Natasha’s absence from the bed doesn’t surprise you; she’s already up, probably training or doing some task to keep herself distracted, to keep from thinking about the mission, about what happened, about anything. You don’t blame her. You’ve seen the way she handles it—how she compartmentalizes her emotions, how sex is the one thing she doesn’t keep in a box.

The door to her bathroom creaks open as you finish zipping your jacket. She doesn’t look at you, her hair damp from a quick shower, her expression unreadable, almost distant. She grabs her black leather jacket from the chair, pulls it on, and heads to the kitchen, the clink of mugs the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak, but the words always seem to hang on the tip of your tongue, trapped behind something you don’t know how to say. You're younger—years younger—and Natasha... well, Natasha never gives anything away. Not in the way you want her to. Her walls are solid, built from years of training, of being a weapon. And you? You’re just a moment, a fleeting thing in her life.

You find her standing by the window now, her back to you, her figure outlined against the early light. She’s always like this after missions, like she’s trying to rid herself of the weight, trying to get back to being Natasha again, instead of... whatever else she’s forced to be.

“Thanks for last night,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

She doesn’t turn to face you, doesn’t even acknowledge your words immediately. Then, as if the silence is too much to bear, she speaks. “You should go. Goodnight, baby.” Her voice is low, steady, but there's an edge to it—something you can’t quite place.

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. I know.”

You turn to leave, but something inside you twists, a knot in your stomach that isn’t just from the awkwardness. It’s the realization that, for all the time you’ve spent together, nothing will ever change. This is just routine—an unspoken agreement between the two of you. She'll keep using you to forget, and you’ll keep pretending this isn’t affecting you.

But Natasha doesn’t ask you to stay, doesn’t even look at you as you make your way toward the door. When you reach the threshold, you steal one last glance at her. Her eyes are on the window again, her face set in that familiar, unreadable expression.

You leave without a word, the door clicking softly behind you, and the silence that follows is deafening.

This is never ending, we have been here before

But I can't stay this time, 'cause I don't love you anymore

The quiet hum of the helicarrier was almost calming, the steady vibrations of the engines beneath your feet grounding you after a chaotic mission. You’d never felt more alive than when you were out there—fighting, taking down the bad guys, doing what SHIELD trained you to do. But tonight, that adrenaline wasn’t enough to silence the nagging feeling inside of you. You kept replaying the moments from the mission—the moments with Natasha.

The mission had gone smoothly. You had worked well together, flowing seamlessly as a team, and Natasha had even given you a rare, approving glance when it was all over. It had been a high-stakes op, but everything had fallen into place. When the mission was debriefed, there had been laughter, light-hearted jokes exchanged between agents, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Natasha.

Her touch had lingered, just a moment longer than necessary, when she passed you your gear. Her eyes had met yours once, a flicker of something in them. It was fleeting, but it was enough to make you wonder. Maybe she feels it too, you thought. The way she looked at you, the way she spoke—there was an intimacy in it, a spark you couldn’t quite ignore.

The night had unfolded with a casual invitation to meet in her room. No big deal, she’d said. Just to grab a drink, just to relax. But when you entered her room, it felt different. You both shed the weight of the mission in the space between words, the tension between you growing as the night went on. Her touch had been slow, almost gentle, when it first brushed against your skin. You’d been hesitant, unsure of what was happening, but she seemed so confident, so sure.

It wasn’t until later—after you were tangled up in each other, breathless, skin flushed—that you felt that spark you had hoped for. Maybe she was just as interested, just as real about this as you were. It wasn’t just a mission anymore, not just two agents getting the job done. There was a connection. There was something between you.

But when you stepped out of her room the next morning, something shifted in the air. The way she had casually kissed you on the cheek before you left, the way she didn’t ask you to stay, didn’t look at you the way you hoped—none of it was what you imagined.

Later, you passed a group of agents gathered in a corner of the mess hall, talking in low voices. You’d barely paid them any mind, too focused on your own thoughts, but then you heard it.

“I wonder who Nat picked this time,” one of them had said, laughing. 

“Probably one of the newbies who doesn’t know any better. Gets what she wants, and moves on. No strings attached.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, your heart sinking lower with every syllable. Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. The woman you had admired from a distance, the one you had trusted and looked up to, had just used you. And maybe—maybe you had been just another mission for her.

You couldn’t help but feel the sting of that realization. You had wanted more. You had convinced yourself that there was something more to it—that the way she held you, the way she whispered your name had meant something. But no. This was who she was. A lone wolf. Cold. Detached.

You didn’t say anything, of course. You just nodded, forcing yourself to accept what you had heard, forcing yourself to forget what had happened the night before. The optimism you had clung to began to die right then and there. This wasn’t a relationship. This wasn’t something that could grow or change.

You walked back to your quarters, the weight of the mission—and your heartache—settling in your chest. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was easier to be just one of the many in a string of forgettable faces. The night with Natasha had been a blip. No more, no less.

The next time you saw her, you kept your distance, smiled a little tighter, and allowed the walls to go up. There was no point in hoping for something more when you knew exactly how this worked. She was always a few steps ahead of you, always thinking of the next mission, the next fight, never lingering too long in one place.

And you? You learned to accept that. No strings attached. No expectations. Just the way things were.

Please, stay where you are

Don't come any closer

The clang of metal against metal echoed through the training room as you and Natasha sparred. The fight was almost second nature now—quick jabs, swift dodges, and the occasional, playful taunt thrown into the mix. You'd gotten better at handling the pressure, but still, when it came to Natasha, it was hard not to feel like you were always playing catch-up. She was faster, stronger, more experienced. Sometimes, it seemed like she was born to fight.

You threw a punch, aiming for her midsection, but she dodged it with effortless grace, countering with a sharp jab to your ribs. You grunted, stumbling back a step, but you didn’t let it throw you off. You pressed forward, more determined now.

“Not bad,” Natasha said with a smirk, her voice light. “But you’re still weak. You need me to save you again, huh?” She laughed, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

It was a joke, you knew that, or at least, you thought you did. But something about her words hit you differently today. You weren’t in the mood to laugh. You had been pushing yourself hard in training, trying to prove that you could handle it on your own, that you weren’t just some rookie who was always under Natasha’s shadow.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the growing frustration that bubbled in your chest. You swung again, but this time, you missed her entirely. She dodged it effortlessly and caught your wrist in a hold that felt too tight.

“Still not enough,” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I should give you some more training lessons. You know, to make sure I don’t have to keep saving you.”

The joke, the lightness in her voice, it only made you more upset. “Maybe I don’t need saving,” you snapped, trying to pull your wrist free from her grip, your temper flaring. “Maybe I can handle things on my own for once.”

Natasha’s smirk faltered, but she kept her hold firm. “Maybe I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Deep down you knew it was a joke, but it wasn’t funny to you—not today. Not when you already felt the weight of everyone’s whispers hanging over you like a shadow. She’s only here because she’s sleeping with Natasha. She’s nothing without her. Every agent seemed to think the same thing. Even some of your own teammates seemed to treat you like you were just an afterthought, a placeholder who only got the mission because of who you knew, not because of your skill.

You had always tried to prove them wrong. But when Natasha said things like that, it felt like all your efforts were for nothing. Like all of it was just... a joke.

You yanked your arm out of her grip and stepped back, glaring at her. “I don’t need you to save me, Natasha. I don’t need anyone.”

Her expression shifted, the playful edge in her eyes dimming. She didn’t understand. Of course she didn’t. She didn’t hear the things you heard, didn’t feel the weight of the judgment you carried every day. To her, this was just another training session, another moment of playful teasing. But to you? It was like being backed into a corner, your confidence slowly slipping away with every word.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Natasha said, her voice sharp now. “You know I’m just messing with you. Stop getting so moody.”

It stung more than it should’ve. You clenched your fists at your sides, holding back the urge to walk out of the room, to leave her there without another word.

But you didn’t. You just stood there, feeling the walls close in around you.

“You don’t get it, do you?” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “You think I’m just here for the fun of it. That I can’t do anything without you. You don’t even see it.”

Natasha’s brows furrowed, and she let out a frustrated sigh, dropping her stance. “You’re being overly sensitive.”

You felt the words cut deep, the sting of her dismissal more painful than you wanted to admit. The last thing you wanted was for her to see you as some emotional mess. But it was too late. You could feel the heat rising in your chest, the ache of being ignored, dismissed, and reduced to nothing more than a pawn in her world.

“Fine,” you snapped, unable to stop the words from spilling out. “Maybe I should just go. You don’t need to deal with my mood anymore.”

Natasha didn’t even flinch at your outburst. Instead, she looked at you with a cold indifference. “Then fuck off,” she said bluntly, as if you were just another irritation, another moment she couldn’t be bothered with.

The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, trying to make sense of it. She didn’t get it. She didn’t understand why you were so angry, why you felt so small in that moment. And you realized, with a sinking feeling in your stomach, that maybe she never would.

You turned and walked away without another word, your chest tight, your emotions a storm inside of you. You didn’t even know where you were going, but you couldn’t stay there, not with her. Not now.

Don't try to change my mind

I'm being cruel to be kind

The words hit like a slap in the face.

You hadn’t meant to overhear it. You had only walked into the SHIELD briefing room to check on some mission updates when Agent Ryder’s voice cut through the air, low but unmistakable.

You could feel the sting of his dismissive tone reverberating in your bones. Nepotism. The word had echoed in your head long after he’d left, taunting you. You knew the truth—your guardian wasn’t some high-ranking official, wasn’t some big shot with connections—but still, how could they say that? How could they reduce your hard work to just that? To nothing but the connections you didn’t even ask for?

You had always tried to prove yourself. Every mission, every task, every step forward was to show you deserved to be here, that you weren’t just some token agent or a pawn in a bigger game. You had trained harder than anyone. You had put in the hours, learned everything you could, sacrificed the same as everyone else. But still, every time you turned around, someone else was whispering behind your back, casting doubt on your worth.

And then there was Natasha. Her teasing had been the last straw. You had tried to laugh it off, to pretend it didn’t bother you, but you knew deep down that the way she dismissed you—it was just another reminder that you were expendable. You weren’t one of them. You were just... a mistake in the system.

So when you walked into the training room the next morning and saw Natasha leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking as relaxed and confident as ever, something inside you snapped.

You didn’t go to her like you usually did. You didn’t smile, didn’t offer the usual greeting. Instead, you simply nodded once, cold and distant.

“Something wrong?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow as she stepped forward.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you turned away from her, grabbing your gear and adjusting it with deliberate care. The silence stretched between you both. You could feel her eyes on you, studying you, waiting for an explanation, but you didn’t owe her one. Not anymore. Not after everything.

“You’re still upset about yesterday, huh?” Natasha’s voice was softer now, but there was an edge to it. A warning, maybe. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

You ignored her, shoving your focus back into the task at hand, determined not to let her see the way your chest tightened. You didn’t want to feel weak. You didn’t want her to know how much her words hurt. You were done with this—done with pretending, done with leaning on her. You were going to prove yourself. You had to.

A few moments passed before Natasha stepped closer, frustration creeping into her tone. “If you don’t stop this, we’re going to have a problem.”

You turned to face her then, finally looking her in the eyes, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “No. We’re not going to have a problem. I’m done with this.” You swallowed the bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m done with you. I’m tired of being treated like I’m some kind of charity case. Like I don’t belong here unless I’m under your shadow.”

Natasha’s face shifted, confusion flashing in her eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You took a step back, your voice rising in frustration. “You think it’s funny, don’t you? All of it. The way you make fun of me. Like it’s just a joke. Well, it’s not. I’ve been busting my ass here, and all you do is remind me that everyone thinks I’m just some charity case. Nepotism. You think that’s a joke? You think I need you to save me?”

Natasha’s expression hardened, her gaze flickering to the side, and then back to you. She crossed her arms, clearly trying to hold her composure. But there was something in her eyes—something tight, something hurt.

“Is this about yesterday?” she asked, her tone sharper now, but there was a hint of concern buried underneath. “You’re overreacting.”

“I’m not overreacting!” You shot back, unable to hold it in anymore. “You don’t get to dismiss me and then act like nothing happened. I’m not some... some... tool for you to use whenever you want. I’m not some kid you get to play with and forget about when it’s convenient.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, thick with tension. Natasha’s jaw tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “You think this is about me using you? You think I’m using you? Is that what you really think?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah. That’s what I think.”

Natasha’s eyes flickered with anger, her usual calm demeanor slipping for just a moment. She shook her head, disbelief and frustration written all over her face. “You’ve got it all wrong. But fine, if that’s how you feel, then go ahead. Go prove yourself, like you keep saying you will. But don’t come crawling back to me when you realize you can’t do it alone.”

The words stung, but it was the way she turned and walked away—cold, final—that hit you the hardest. You felt the knot in your chest tighten, but you didn’t call after her. You couldn’t.

You spent the rest of the day avoiding her, your mind racing with doubt and anger. It wasn’t about the mission, not really. It was about feeling like you were fighting a battle on your own, with no one in your corner. The more you tried to distance yourself, the more you realized how much you needed her, even if it hurt to admit it.

But you were stubborn. You had to prove to yourself that you weren’t just here because of someone else. You weren’t going to be Natasha’s shadow anymore.

You couldn’t.

You have given me something that I can't live without

You mustn't underestimate that when you are in doubt

The morning briefing had gone smoothly, the usual debriefing about mission parameters, objectives, and exit strategies. But there was an undercurrent of tension you couldn’t shake. It was just a solo mission—nothing too difficult, Natasha had said, and you knew the protocol well. But the moment she had pulled out, just hours before takeoff, something in your gut twisted.

"It doesn't need to be a two-person mission," Natasha had said with her usual casual smile, but it hadn’t reached her eyes. "It’s easy. You’ve got this." Her voice had sounded almost dismissive, as if she hadn’t been training with you for months, as if she didn’t know how much you relied on her presence during missions. You knew Natasha wasn’t one for emotional goodbyes, but the absence of that small gesture—her usual good luck kiss before every mission—felt like a sign. You had never gone on a mission without one, and now, as you stood alone in the SHIELD hangar, you realized just how much you had come to rely on it.

She hadn’t even given you a heads-up, hadn’t said goodbye with her usual teasing smirk or reassuring look. It’s an easy mission, you told yourself. You don’t need her this time. But the unease in your chest told you otherwise.

You tugged the straps of your gear tighter, glancing once more at the aircraft. The mission was supposed to be straightforward: infiltrate a small criminal syndicate operating out of a hidden base in the mountains, retrieve intel, and get out. You’d handled worse. But you couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something was off. Your instincts were screaming at you, and for once, you weren’t willing to ignore them.

You checked your wristwatch again. The flight would take a few hours, leaving you with time to prepare mentally, but all you could think about was Natasha. The way she had waved you off with barely a second glance, as if you didn’t matter enough for a goodbye. You tried not to dwell on it. After all, Natasha didn’t do sentiment. But the emptiness in your chest was hard to ignore.

Maybe she’s just busy. Maybe she’s just focused on something else. But none of that helped. You were used to her being there with you, a reassuring presence by your side. You needed her, especially when the missions were dangerous—especially when you felt the weight of the world bearing down on you. But now, you were alone, and that felt heavier than you expected.

As the helicopter’s engines roared to life, you settled back into your seat, trying to center yourself. This mission wasn’t supposed to be difficult. You could do this alone, you kept telling yourself. But something about it didn’t feel right. Maybe it was Natasha pulling out at the last minute. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't given you her usual kiss for luck, the one that always helped you steady your nerves before a mission. But whatever it was, it gnawed at you. Your instincts were telling you to watch your back. Something wasn’t adding up.

By the time you arrived at the drop zone, the helicopter had been quiet for too long. The mountainside stretched ahead, vast and intimidating, and the cold wind carried the promise of danger. You could see the hidden compound from the air—well-guarded, heavily fortified, and far from any backup. A simple mission, Natasha had called it.

You didn’t believe that for a second.

The drop was smooth, and you quickly moved into position, your boots crunching against the frozen ground. The area around the compound was still and eerily quiet. Too quiet. No guards on patrol. No sign of life. It didn’t make sense, but you pushed the unease aside. You had a job to do.

You made your way toward the compound, slipping into the shadows, the cold air biting at your skin. Every step felt calculated, but the tension in your shoulders refused to loosen. You kept glancing over your shoulder, as if expecting Natasha to appear and tell you everything was fine, that this was just another mission to add to the books.

But she wasn’t there.

You reached the compound’s perimeter and found the first guard’s post abandoned, his gear left behind but no sign of a struggle. There was no time to waste. You slipped inside, working quickly to disable the security systems and hack into the mainframe. The room you’d accessed was silent, save for the whir of the computers. As you pulled the intel from the servers, the cold feeling in your gut only grew.

Something wasn’t right. Your instincts had been spot-on—this mission had been a setup.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. You froze, turning off the monitor and moving swiftly toward the exit. You didn’t have time to think. You just had to get out. The sudden realization hit you like a punch in the stomach—Natasha wasn’t here for a reason. She’d known this mission wasn’t as easy as it seemed. And now you were paying the price for going in blind, without her by your side.

Your heart pounded as you sprinted for cover, your mind racing. Every corner you turned felt like a trap. The compound was alive with activity now. You could hear voices, shouts, the sounds of boots hitting the concrete floor.

I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have trusted this mission without her.

You ducked into an alcove, pressing your back to the cold wall, your breath shallow. The door to the room you’d just vacated opened with a quiet click, and a group of armed men poured in, searching for you. The walls seemed to close in on you as the adrenaline kicked in. You had to move, had to get out, or you would be trapped.

Suddenly, your body started to droop, collapsing against the wall behind. The last thing you saw before everything went dark was long red hair tied into a bun. 

But I don't want to carry on like everything is fine

The longer we ignore it, all the more that we will fight

You woke to the sting of cold water splashing across your face, the shock of it making your body jerk awake, muscles aching with the memory of the fight. The pain was sharp, gnawing at your ribs and shoulders, each breath a struggle. The world around you was blurred, and all you could focus on was the weight pressing down on your chest.

Your eyes opened, blurry at first, and then the details started to sharpen: concrete walls, dim lighting, and the cold, oppressive silence that clung to the room. There were metal chairs around you, all empty but one. The leader of the enemy force, a tall man with a face carved from stone, stood before you, a smug look on his face as he held the bucket that had been your rude awakening.

He tossed the remaining ice water in your direction, a small slosh hitting your face as he watched you with cold, calculating eyes. “You’re a tough one,” he said in a low, mocking voice. “I didn’t think you’d last this long. But everyone cracks eventually, don’t they?”

Your throat was dry, and your tongue felt like it was made of sandpaper. You could feel the blood caked on your face, the bruises that were already starting to swell. But despite the pain, despite the overwhelming urge to break, you held your ground. You glared up at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in your eyes.

“You’ve got nothing to say?” the man sneered. “You SHIELD agents are all the same. So loyal. So stupid. You’re all just waiting for your little friends to come save you, aren’t you?”

Your lips pressed together tightly, and you refused to let a single word slip from them. You couldn’t afford to give him anything. Not a single piece of intel, not even a whimper. You knew that if you did, it would all be over.

He stepped closer, placing a booted foot against your thigh, forcing you back against the cold concrete. The pressure was almost unbearable, but you didn’t flinch. The silence between you both stretched, thick and heavy, until he finally gave a humorless laugh and straightened up. “I can wait. All of you are the same. Eventually, you’ll break.”

But you didn’t.

The next few days bled together in a haze of cold, pain, and isolation. The room was a blur of steel, concrete, and fluorescent lights. There were no windows, no sense of time. Your body was sore, covered in cuts and bruises, and the hunger gnawed at you. But you couldn’t give in. Not now. Not when you knew someone would come for you.

They’ll come. They have to.

Every time they came in, it was the same—questions, threats, taunts. And every time, you remained silent. You couldn’t let them know how desperate you were. You couldn’t let them see you break. Even if every part of you screamed for help, you stayed resolute, hoping that somehow, someone would find you, someone would come and end this.

But no one did.

It was only when the fourth day passed, when the darkness of the room had become your world, that you started to feel the weight of your own mind closing in. The silence, the isolation, the constant threat of pain—it started to take a toll on you. The hunger gnawed at your insides, and your thoughts drifted in and out. You could still hear his voice echoing in your head: They’ll come for you. They’ll come...

It was on the sixth day that it happened. A crack in the door. The low hum of voices. The sound of boots. You didn’t move at first, couldn’t. But then, just like that, the door swung open, and a small team of SHIELD agents burst in, guns drawn. They moved quickly, efficiently, sweeping the room and securing the area. You didn’t even have the energy to react as they cut through the restraints on your wrists and helped you to your feet.

"Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe now,” one of them murmured, gently pulling you into their arms.

But the words didn’t register. You could hear them, but it was like they were coming from another world. You felt light-headed, your body numb, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on you. Your mouth was dry, but you didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

The next few days were a blur of recovery, of medical checks and debriefings that you couldn’t bring yourself to respond to. Every word felt like it was coming from a place far outside of you, and you couldn’t find the strength to answer.

In the quiet, isolated room they had put you in at the base, you sat in silence, staring blankly at the wall. Every noise around you felt too loud. Every touch too much. They gave you time to recover, but you couldn’t shake the heaviness in your chest. Your mind had shut down, your body running on autopilot.

There were no words. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak. The trauma, the isolation, everything that had happened—it left you feeling hollow. Broken.

You didn’t speak at all for days, your body recovering, but your mind still trapped in the darkness of that cold room. The cold man’s words echoed in your head. You’re all waiting for someone to come save you.

But even as the team tried to coax you into talking, even as they brought you your favorite food and gave you the space to recover, the silence remained.

Natasha didn’t come. She wasn’t there when you needed her, and the weight of that felt heavier than any physical wound. It wasn’t her fault. You knew that. But somehow, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still alone.

Your recovery was slow. You weren’t the same person when you were finally cleared to leave the facility. There was a coldness in your eyes, a distance in your posture. The silence you had once embraced had become a shield, and now, it was all you had.

Natasha had visited you once during your recovery. She hadn’t said much, just sat in silence beside you. But even when she reached out to touch your hand, you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. The trauma had built walls too high, too thick to break. And no one, not even Natasha, could find their way through.

You were alive, yes. But the silence that followed felt like it would never end.

Please, don't fall apart

I can't face your breaking heart

The sterile scent of the hospital room, the constant hum of machines, and the bright, white lights overhead did little to make you feel at ease. You stared at the ceiling, your gaze unfocused, your mind a swirling mess of everything that had happened. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything. You didn’t feel like you were living—just existing, going through the motions. Every movement felt like an effort, and the space around you felt too small, too suffocating.

You hadn’t spoken since the rescue. Not to anyone. The silence, once a comfort, had become a prison you couldn’t escape. Your throat was raw from the lack of words, and when you closed your eyes, you could still see the cold walls of that room, the mocking face of the enemy leader, and the weight of the isolation pressing down on you.

The door opened, and you didn’t look up. You knew who it was before the first words even registered.

“Are you seriously ignoring me?”

The voice was sharp, familiar, cutting through the fog that had settled around your brain. Natasha.

You didn't respond. You couldn’t. Your mind was screaming for you to stay quiet, to not let her in, because the moment you spoke, you knew it would shatter the wall you’d built to protect yourself. But Natasha didn’t wait for a response. She stormed into the room, her boots heavy on the floor, her expression tight with frustration.

“I’ve been trying to reach you for days,” Natasha continued, her voice rising with every word. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? I can’t believe you’re acting like this. It’s been weeks. You’re acting like a damn child, and I’m done with it. I don’t have time for this immature bullshit, especially from you.”

Your chest tightened, a knot of anger and confusion building inside you, but you refused to show it. You couldn’t. You knew better than to let her see the storm inside you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t follow your schedule,” you said, your voice flat and devoid of emotion. You couldn’t bring yourself to add any more, any more than the words that barely scraped out. Sorry for being alive, sorry for failing.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed as she took a few steps closer, standing at the side of your bed. Her face was hard, her anger not hiding the concern that still flickered beneath. “You think this is easy for me, too? That I just get to pretend nothing happened? That I’m supposed to just let you wallow in here like—like this?” Her voice broke slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. “This is fucking ridiculous, and I’m not going to stand here and watch you ruin everything you’ve worked for. Do you understand me? You’re going to lose everything.”

The sting of her words cut deep, but it was the accusation in her tone that truly hit you. The one that had been festering in your chest ever since you’d been dragged out of that hellhole. You weren’t who you thought you were. You weren’t the person who deserved this life. The dream job, the recognition, the chance to be someone worth a damn—none of it was meant for you. Not after everything that had happened. You weren’t strong enough to keep it all, to be who they thought you were. And Natasha—Natasha, who had always been a silent pillar of strength for you, was now reminding you how easily it could all be taken away.

Her words stung. Immature... Ruin everything... You could feel the weight of her disappointment settle into your chest like a stone, heavier than anything you had ever felt.

And then, it clicked.

The final straw broke. Natasha didn’t understand. She didn’t understand the extent of what had happened to you—the isolation, the pain, the days spent waiting for someone to find you, and the crushing feeling that no one would. You were broken, and she was treating it like it was just a phase. That you just needed to snap out of it.

But you couldn’t.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, the pain from your injuries flaring in protest, but you pushed through. You weren’t sure where you were going, but you couldn’t stay here any longer. You had to leave. You had to escape the judgment, the expectations. You couldn’t pretend to be strong anymore.

“Don’t walk away from me!” Natasha snapped, but you were already moving. You couldn’t be near her right now. The anger, the betrayal—it was all too much.

Ignoring her calls, you grabbed the nearest coat, not caring that it didn’t quite fit right, and you made your way out of the room. You could hear her following you, her footsteps echoing behind you, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t owe her anything anymore.

You didn’t owe anyone anything.

It didn’t take long to get to the secure office where you had to sign a few papers before they cleared your discharge. You barely registered the words the agent at the desk was saying. You barely noticed the fact that your fingers were trembling. You only had one thing on your mind—the resignation letter you had been drafting in your head for days.

You placed it on the desk in front of the agent, your hands shaking slightly as you slid the paper over to them. The words were short and to the point, and they made everything feel so final. So irreversible.

“I’m resigning,” you said, voice hoarse. “Effective immediately.”

The agent didn’t ask questions. They just nodded, their face unreadable, and then went about processing the paperwork. You watched, numb, as the reality of it all settled over you like a weight that you could never lift. You had dreamed of this job for so long, had worked so hard to get here, only to throw it all away because you didn’t deserve it anymore.

And in that moment, you felt everything you’d been holding in for weeks. The grief. The betrayal. The isolation. It all came rushing back, but you didn’t cry. You couldn’t cry. The numbness, the emptiness, it was all you had now.

You stood up, turning away from the desk, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a sense of finality wash over you. No turning back.

It wasn’t until you were almost out the door that you heard Natasha’s voice again, this time softer, more desperate. “Wait.”

But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

The door shut behind you with a soft click, and the world outside felt both too big and too small at the same time. You were alone now. Completely, irrevocably alone.

And somehow, that felt like the only truth you could rely on anymore.

I'm trying to be brave

Stop asking me to stay

Clint’s sharp eyes caught you before you could make it out of the door, his footsteps quick as he crossed the hallway. He was dressed in his usual casual gear, a quiver slung over his shoulder, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.

“Hey, wait,” Clint said, his voice softer than it usually was when he called someone out. You didn’t stop. Your feet kept moving, your heart hammering as you tried to escape. But Clint was relentless. He grabbed your arm gently but firmly, turning you around to face him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice laced with something like disappointment. “You can’t just walk out on everything. Nat’s worried sick.”

You looked up at him, eyes glassy, exhausted. “I don’t need anyone’s pity,” you muttered, your voice strained. “Not hers, not anyone's. Just... just leave me alone.”

Clint studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing with understanding. Then, without warning, he pulled you into a quieter corner, away from the main corridors, where he knew you wouldn’t be overheard.

"Look," Clint said, his voice lower now, softer but still firm, "I don’t know what kind of crap Nat's been feeding you, but I can tell you're hurting. You think you can just walk away from everything, like it’ll make things better? You think that's gonna fix anything?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t bring yourself to. But Clint didn’t need an answer.

“I hear things,” Clint went on. “I’ve been around long enough to know when someone’s trying to hide something. And I’ve been in the rafters during most of those 'training' sessions with Nat. You think you’re the only one who feels small, huh?” His voice turned bitter, a subtle edge to it. “You think you’re the only one she’s pushed away?”

You stared at him, shocked, unable to respond. Clint saw right through you. He knew what was happening, and he wasn’t going to let it slide.

“She’s been messing with your head, hasn’t she?” Clint said. “Somehow, you think you’re not good enough, that you don’t belong here. You think everything you’ve done has been handed to you on a silver platter because of her. Well, let me tell you something—that’s not true.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but you still didn’t speak. It was like you couldn’t find the words. The guilt, the shame, the feeling of never measuring up to the expectations—they all churned in your stomach.

Clint let out a long, frustrated sigh, his eyes softening. “You’re good enough,” he said, his tone firm, but there was an understanding there that made your throat tighten. “You’ve earned every bit of your place here. And if she can't see that, then she's the one who’s in the wrong. It’s not about who you know or who you're sleeping with. You’re here because of you. Don’t you ever forget that.”

You felt the tears welling up, but you forced them back, swallowing the lump in your throat. Clint’s words had landed hard, and it was like a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding was finally being released. But before you could say anything, Clint stepped closer, lowering his voice even more.

“Natasha…” Clint trailed off, his jaw tightening. “She’s been a mess lately. She’s scared—scared of losing you, scared of messing things up. But she doesn’t know how to apologize for anything. She’s been pushing you away because she’s too afraid to admit what she’s done. So yeah, she's been selfish. But you can’t just run away from everything. You deserve better than that."

Your heart twisted at his words, and for a moment, you felt that familiar pang of wanting to believe everything he said. But the hurt was still there, the feeling of being abandoned in your most vulnerable moment. You didn’t trust yourself enough to believe that you were the one who mattered.

Clint left you with a small pat on your shoulder - he couldn’t blame you for wanting to leave, he just wanted you to know the truth that Nat definitely wasn’t going to tell you. Now to chew her out. It didn’t take long for Clint to find her. Natasha was pacing the hall just outside, her face etched with frustration. The second Clint approached her, she shot him a glare.

“Where the hell is she?” Natasha demanded, her voice tight with anxiety. “You didn’t—”

Clint held up a hand to stop her. “Sit down,” he ordered. “And listen. I’m done with you thinking you can just brush this off like it’s nothing.”

Natasha’s jaw clenched, but she stood still. Clint’s eyes were hard, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t holding back.

“You’ve been treating her like shit, Natasha,” Clint continued, his voice rising just enough to get her attention. “You think she’s the problem? That she’s just acting ‘immature’ or ‘childish’? Look around you for two seconds. You’ve been pushing her away, making her feel like she’s not good enough, like she doesn’t deserve anything she’s worked for. You’ve been feeding her insecurities—her real ones—with your own mess. And, she’s traumatised. Those guys out there, the ones that tortured her for six days because she went in without an extraction plan”

Natasha opened her mouth to argue, but Clint cut her off with a sharp motion.

“I hear things,” Clint said. “I’m up in the rafters sometimes. I hear the crap that other people say about her when they think no one’s listening. They question her place on the team because her dad was an officer in Fury’s good graces, or because they think you play favourites with her. They don’t realise that you’ve got something else going on, but all that shit compounded. You’ve made one of our best agents question everything about herself.”

Natasha’s face went pale, her expression shifting from anger to guilt in an instant. “Clint, I—”

“You’re lucky she didn’t quit sooner, Natasha. You’ve been so wrapped up in your own bullshit that you didn’t see how bad she was hurting.” Clint’s words hit like a slap. “Now go find her. And you better make this right, because if you don’t Fury is gonna be pissed.” The ‘and I’ went unspoken.

We're not the only ones, I don't regret a thing

Every word I've said, you know I'll always mean

Natasha stopped at the entrance of Tony’s stupid ‘serenity garden’. It was the last place she had left to look, and it looked like luck was on her side. You were sitting on one of the benches in the corner, your back to her as you stared into the depths of the Koi pond. It was like you were a part of the landscape now, blending into the tranquility of the place. Natasha felt her throat tighten at the sight. You looked so small, so vulnerable, so distant. She had never seen you like this—not once. It was always her who had the walls up, not you.

She took a cautious step forward, the grass underfoot crunching softly as she neared you.

Natasha called your name softly, her voice hesitant, like she was testing the waters. You didn’t respond immediately, and for a brief second, Natasha was unsure if you had even heard her. The silence between you felt thick, almost unbearable. She sat down beside you, not too close, but close enough that she hoped you could feel her presence.

It wasn’t the same as before—when she had always known what to say to you, when her words had always been sure, always laced with a confidence that kept her safe. But now? Now she had no idea how to begin. Her usual sharp tongue had failed her. There were no easy words to break the ice this time, no snarky jokes to hide behind. Only you—and the wreckage she had left in her wake.

You turned your head just slightly, enough to see her. The surprise in your eyes caught her off guard. You’re surprised to see me here, Natasha realized. You didn’t expect her to come. You didn’t expect her to care enough to seek you out.

And for the first time ever, Natasha didn’t know what to say.

Her mind was racing, every thought colliding into the next. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She glanced at you, her expression filled with uncertainty. She could feel the weight of everything she had said, everything she had done, everything she had failed to do. The words that had always come so easily to her were nowhere to be found now. It was as if the depth of your hurt had trapped her, left her speechless, helpless.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t moved, hadn’t turned to face her entirely, but your gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than usual. You could sense her struggle—Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, speechless for the first time in your memory.

“Nat?” you finally said, the question carrying more weight than it should. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice, hoarse and small, like the person you had been before all of this had come crashing down.

She looked at you, the smallest glimmer of relief flickering in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced with the same guilt she had been carrying for days now.

“I…” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

You blinked at her, surprised. This was the first time you’d ever seen Natasha lost for words. You’d always been the one fumbling for the right thing to say, the one who couldn’t figure out how to get past the pain. But she—Natasha Romanoff, the one who always had control, always knew how to navigate even the most dangerous situations—she was the one who was struggling now.

It was like the world had shifted, and the unshakable woman you had always known had suddenly become... human.

It is the world to me that you are in my life

But I want to live and not just survive

Her voice was soft, as if the weight of everything she had been holding was finally catching up with her. “I messed up,” she said quietly. “I messed up, baby. And I... I don’t know how to make it right.”

Your chest ached as her words hit you. The vulnerability in her eyes was raw, and it took everything in you to keep the tears from falling.

“I’ve been a mess,” Natasha continued, her eyes looking straight ahead, not daring to meet yours. “I didn’t realize how badly I was hurting you... And I was so wrapped up in my own shit that I just—I pushed you away. I thought you’d be fine. I thought you’d understand. But I see now that I made everything worse.”

You swallowed, the words feeling like they weighed a ton in your chest. You couldn’t speak, not yet. But you turned your head slightly to face her, your gaze still unreadable.

“I never wanted to make you feel like you don’t belong here,” Natasha said, her voice breaking slightly. “I never wanted you to think that you were here because of me, or that you weren’t good enough.” Her lips tightened, frustration and regret flooding her features. “I just—I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings. And I made you think I didn’t care. But I do. I care. I care about you more than you could ever know.”

The silence stretched out between you both, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Natasha felt small. Her pride, her strength—all the things that had always defined her—were gone, stripped away by the vulnerability of this moment.

You glanced at her, studying her face. It was like you were seeing her for the first time—broken, fragile, and unsure.

And for the first time, you allowed yourself to feel the smallest sliver of hope.

“I don’t know if you can fix this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But I need you to know something, Natasha. I needed you. And you—you—were the one who turned away.”

Her chest tightened at the weight of your words, but she didn’t flinch. She nodded slowly, accepting the truth, knowing it wasn’t something that could be undone in a moment. The air between you and Natasha felt heavy with words you couldn’t articulate. You had remained silent for so long, allowing her apology to linger in the air like a fragile thing—something too delicate to touch, to hold onto. But now, with the weight of her words pressing down on you, you couldn’t remain silent any longer.

“I’m leaving,” you said, the words steady, though they felt like they weighed a thousand pounds in your chest. You weren’t sure why you were telling her this now, but you had to. You had to make it real, to take control of something in your life again.

“I’m transferring,” you added, your voice quiet but firm. “I’m going to Quantico. I’ll be working with the FBI as a consultant. It’s not what I thought I’d be doing, but... I don’t deserve to be here anymore. I got the hint.”

The words felt like a confession, a goodbye you hadn’t yet found the courage to say. There had been so many dreams—so many things you’d imagined for yourself at SHIELD. You had fought for them, worked tirelessly, sacrificed for them. But now, they felt like they were slipping away.

Natasha didn’t say anything at first. She didn’t even look at you. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, like she was trying to find the words. You knew what she’d say. She’d tell you that you were making a mistake, that you had so much potential. But it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would fix what had been broken.

You could feel the emotions swirling inside of you, but you had already made your decision. It was easier to walk away, easier than confronting everything that had gone wrong.

But then, she spoke. And it was different from anything you’d expected.

“You’re the best SHIELD has to offer,” Natasha said, her voice steady, though there was an underlying urgency in it. “You’re the best agent we’ve got, baby. I... I don’t think you see it. You’ve done things that people can’t even dream of. You’ve proven yourself time and time again. You’ve earned your place here. And I know I haven’t made it easy for you, but you belong here.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, you couldn’t quite comprehend what she was saying. Her voice was fierce now, insistent, and you could hear the raw sincerity in it. But none of it felt real. None of it felt true, not in the way you needed it to.

“I don’t believe you,” you said, your voice quiet, almost lost in the distance between you. “I don’t think I’ve ever truly belonged here. Not in the way you think. I’m not you, Nat. I’m not cut from the same cloth. I’m just—me. And I’ve been holding on to a dream that doesn’t fit. Not anymore.”

Natasha’s expression faltered. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words died on her tongue. She could feel your resolve, could see how broken you were, how done you seemed. It was like you had already left—mentally, emotionally, even before physically walking away.

Her chest tightened. “Baby, listen—"

But you shook your head, cutting her off. “Whatever you’re going to say, Nat, I’ve heard it all.” You inhaled sharply, the words rushing out. “And I’ve finally started hearing what’s been said. And now I’m seeing what’s been true all along. I’m not enough, no matter how hard I try. No matter how much I give. And you... you’ve made it clear that I’ll never be anything but a second choice. I was just a comfort to you, a distraction. You made me feel like I needed to prove myself—like I needed to earn my place, but I did. I did, and it never mattered.”

There was a pause. Natasha’s lips trembled, the harshness of your words sinking in. She knew she had been wrong, knew she had made everything worse. But hearing you speak this way—so broken, so defeated—it shattered something deep inside her.

"Please..." Natasha's voice faltered, her tough exterior cracking. She reached out toward you, but the gesture was hesitant, unsure. “I never meant for it to be like this. I never wanted to make you feel—”

You pulled away, standing up slowly, the decision final in your mind. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve made my choice. I’m leaving. And I don’t think you’ll miss me that much anyway. It’s easier to pretend like you don’t need anyone than to admit you might be wrong about something.”

That's why I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

Before you could take another step, you felt a hand grip yours. Warm, strong, and unyielding. Natasha had caught up with you, her fingers laced around yours, holding you in place. You didn’t turn around. You weren’t sure you wanted to face her again, not after everything that had been said, not after the rawness that she had exposed.

Natasha’s voice was softer now as she called your name, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it. “Please, just—don’t walk away yet.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing pulse, but it was hard when every part of you wanted to run. You didn’t stop, but neither did she.

Her grip tightened, pulling you back just a little, her touch sending a mix of warmth and tension straight through you. When she spoke again, her voice wasn’t the confident agent you were used to, the one who had always kept her emotions under lock and key. There was something different now, something uncertain, almost as if she wasn’t sure of her place in your world anymore.

“I’ve messed up,” Natasha continued, her voice shaking with emotion. “I know I pushed you too hard. I know I made you feel like you weren’t enough, like you didn’t belong here, and... I did that because I wanted you to be the best. I wanted you to be safe. I was afraid that if anything happened to you—if I lost you on a mission, I—I don’t think I could survive it.”

You could feel her breath, the rise and fall of her chest close behind you, but you didn’t turn around. Not yet. Her words hit you like a wave crashing into the shore, raw and jagged, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to process them.

“I pushed you because I was scared. And in trying to protect you... I ended up pushing you away,” she whispered, the confession hanging in the air, the depth of it too much to ignore. “I was wrong. I’m sorry. I was so so wrong.”

The air between you both was thick with everything she had just said, and you stood there for a long moment, processing it all. But it wasn’t enough, not yet. You couldn’t bring yourself to face her—not yet.

“I don’t know how to forgive you for this, Natasha,” you said, your voice a mixture of anger and hurt. It wasn’t snark this time, no biting sarcasm, just raw emotion. "The only time something terrible happened to me, something that almost killed me, was when you abandoned me. You made the call. You didn’t show up. I was out there, all alone, and you weren’t there when I needed you most.”

Your chest tightened as you spoke, the hurt pouring out like it always had, but now it was different. Now, it wasn’t just anger. It was a deep, aching sadness that threatened to drown you. And despite yourself, you couldn’t stop the words from coming. “You made me feel like I wasn’t worth it. Like I wasn’t worth anything.”

You could feel Natasha’s breath hitch behind you, the weight of your words striking her deep. She didn’t say anything at first, and when you finally turned around, you saw the truth in her eyes—guilt, sorrow, and a pain you hadn’t expected. The sight of it, the way her face crumpled in on itself, broke something inside you.

Her hand fell away from yours, but it wasn’t because she wanted to let go. It was because she was shaking, trembling with emotion that she could no longer hold in. And then you saw it—tears. Two, maybe three, glistening on her cheeks. Natasha Romanoff, the unshakable Black Widow, was crying.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “I didn’t. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to make you feel abandoned. I... I couldn’t bear the thought of you in danger. But... I hurt you worse by pushing you away.”

For the first time in all the years you’d known her, you saw Natasha unraveling in front of you, breaking apart piece by piece. It felt almost cruel, to see her like this after everything you’d been through. But as much as your heart ached for her, you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive her. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“You can’t just apologize and expect everything to be okay, Nat,” you said, the words coming out sharper than you intended. “You hurt me. You made me feel worthless, like I wasn’t enough. And when it mattered the most... when I was out there fighting to survive, you turned your back on me.”

Natasha flinched at the force of your words. They were like a punch to the gut, and you saw how much it hurt her to hear them. But the truth was, you couldn’t keep pretending that everything would just magically be okay.

“I know,” Natasha said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know. And I can’t take that back. I can’t make up for it. But... I just need you to know, I care. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know you care,” you said softly, but your voice still carried that edge of distance. “But that’s not enough anymore. I don’t know how to keep going back to the way things were. I can’t keep coming back to you only to be left in the dark again.”

There was a long silence, the kind that seemed to stretch on forever, and Natasha stood there, her shoulders slumped, her eyes filled with unshed tears. She was broken, but that didn’t change the fact that what she’d done had hurt you in ways you weren’t sure could ever heal.

“You’re right,” she said finally, voice cracked. “You deserve more than this. You deserve better. Someone who won’t make you feel like you have to earn their care, someone who won’t turn their back when things get hard.”

You stood there, feeling the weight of the finality in her words, and for a long time, you didn’t know what to say. You looked at her—the broken woman in front of you—and you realized that, despite everything, despite all the hurt, you didn’t want to stay. You needed to walk away. For yourself.

“I need to walk away, Natasha,” you said quietly, your voice steady but firm. “I don’t know what we were, what we are anymore. But I can’t do this anymore.”

You turned towards the exit, your steps unfaltering as you walked away. Natasha half expected - hoped - you’d turn around and run to her. But you didn’t. You walked away, slowly, your footsteps fading into the distance, away from SHIELD and away from her.

There is so much space between us

Baby, we're already defeated

A year later…

It was a quiet evening when you walked into the bar after a long day, your mind still buzzing with the details of your latest case. Quantico was different to SHIELD in almost every way. The people were different, the procedures were different, but you found that - after getting into the swing of things - it wasn’t worse. Just different. 

The dim lighting of the bar, the hum of conversation, the clink of glasses—it was a familiar comfort now, one that made you feel grounded after the chaos of your job. You ordered a drink and leaned against the bar, letting your shoulders drop, the weight of the day lifting slowly.

That was when you saw her.

Natasha Romanoff, standing across the room, her back slightly to you as she talked to a stranger at the bar. But even from behind, something about her caught your attention. She looked different. Older, somehow. More... mature. The woman you had known was always poised, confident, and untouchable—but there was something in the way she held herself now that made her feel more human. Vulnerable, even.

Her hair was different too—shorter, sleek, straight, a stark contrast to the wavy red that had once framed her face. She had always been beautiful, but now she seemed to radiate something else—something quieter, more grounded.

You stared for a moment, unsure if you were seeing things right, but as she turned to glance around the bar, her eyes met yours. Recognition hit her almost immediately, and she froze for a second, her expression flickering with surprise. Then, just as quickly, it softened.

Her voice was a little hoarse as she whispered your name, almost like she hadn’t expected to see you here, or maybe she hadn’t heard your name in so long that saying it felt foreign.

You didn’t say anything at first. You just watched her—really looked at her—before taking a slow step forward. “Natasha.” Your voice was calm, composed. Different from the way you used to say her name with that sense of longing, of wanting something that wasn’t ever going to be.

She gave a small, tentative smile, the kind that spoke volumes about how much time had passed, about how many things had been left unsaid between you. "You look... good," she said, her eyes flickering over you.

It was an understatement. You felt good. You felt like you were finally living a life that wasn’t defined by the weight of the past, by the mistakes you’d made and the ones others had made for you.

“I could say the same about you,” you replied, with a small smile of your own. “You look different. I like it.”

“Yeah.” She ran a hand through her new, shorter hair, a nervous habit, before looking back at you. “A lot’s changed.”

“Clearly,” you said, glancing around. You couldn’t help but take in the way she stood—so different from the woman who had always been so self-assured, so used to being in control of every situation. But in a way, it made her more real, more approachable.

The two of you stood there for a moment, the air between you awkward but not uncomfortable, as if neither of you knew where to start. It was Natasha who broke the silence first.

“So, how’ve you been?” she asked, her voice softer than you remembered it. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow at her, unsure if she even knew what really meant anymore, after everything. But it was a simple enough question. And you’d spent the last year being honest with yourself, so why not? “I’m doing alright. Different. Moving on. Got a new job at Quantico. Therapy’s been helping. I’m in a better place now.”

Natasha nodded, though you saw the flicker of something behind her eyes—a mix of regret, of longing, maybe. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve... I’ve been trying to do the same. It’s been a long year. Things haven’t been easy, but I think I’m getting there.”

You studied her for a moment, your expression unreadable. The quiet honesty in her voice made you want to believe that she was trying. You could see it now. She had changed too.

“You’re still working for SHIELD?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation casual, as if the past didn’t hang over both of you like a thick, invisible cloud.

She nodded, but there was a hesitation in her movements. “Sort of. I’ve been taking a step back, working in a different capacity now. More... behind the scenes. I guess I’m trying to figure out who I am, outside of all the missions, the work.”

It hit you—she was no longer the same person either. The intensity in her eyes had softened, and there was a certain sadness to her that you hadn’t seen before. She seemed tired in a way that wasn’t physical—tired of running, of hiding behind the façade she had built. You hadn’t seen this version of her before, and in some ways, you almost didn’t know how to react.

“So... what now?” you asked, the question feeling lighter than it should. “Now that we’re both here, like this.”

Natasha’s eyes met yours, and there was a long pause, the weight of everything that had passed between you hanging heavily in the air. And then, almost as if on instinct, you spoke.

“Do you want to come back to my place?” You offered the invitation like it was just a reflex—like things could go back to the way they were, the comfort of those old habits, the way things had felt when it was just the two of you, before everything had gone sideways.

She looked at you for a long moment, and you saw the conflict in her eyes. She was torn, and you could see in her eyes, that something was playing on her mind.

“No.” 

Everything changed me

And I don't think you can save me

The words hit you like a jolt, a shock of electricity shooting through your chest. Natasha’s eyes were steady on yours now, no longer hesitant, no longer uncertain. There was a firmness in her voice that you hadn’t heard in a long time—a quiet confidence that seemed to say she’d finally found something worth fighting for. And for the first time in a long time, you saw Natasha Romanoff not as the untouchable spy, not as the woman who had left you behind, but as someone real, someone who had learned from her mistakes.

“I’m not going to make the same mistake twice,” she said, her voice low but with an undeniable certainty. “If you want me, I’m going to do it properly this time. No more running, no more half-heartedness. I’ve hurt you, and I won’t do it again. But this time, it’s going to be on our terms. If that’s okay with you.”

You stared at her for a long moment, taking in the gravity of what she was saying, the weight of the promise she was offering. For so long, you’d wondered if this day would ever come. The idea of this—of her asking—had seemed impossible, a distant dream you never thought you’d reach.

And yet, here she was, standing before you, offering a chance to try again. A real chance.

“Dinner tomorrow?” she asked, her lips curving into a small, tentative smile. “If you're free?”

You didn’t have to think long. The question felt so simple, so natural, in a way that almost made you want to laugh at how easy it seemed compared to everything that had come before.

"Yeah," you said, the answer escaping your lips before your mind had fully processed it. "I’m free."

Natasha’s smile deepened, the corners of her eyes softening as she took in your response. It was a quiet victory for her—one that meant more than words could convey. She wasn’t expecting you to forgive her immediately, or to trust her completely. But she was willing to try, and that was more than she had ever given before.

“I’ll pick you up,” she said softly, her voice almost shy now. “I’ll make sure it’s a good night.”

You nodded, still processing the fact that she was here, still standing in front of you, willing to do what she hadn’t done before. And for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was something worth saving between the two of you.

“Sounds good,” you replied, a quiet confidence settling in your own chest. “Tomorrow then.”

With that, Natasha gave you one last look, a small, genuine smile gracing her face, before she turned and walked out of the bar. You stood there for a moment longer, feeling the weight of everything that had happened between you two, and then, for the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to feel something else—hope.

Tomorrow. You were willing to see where it could go. And maybe, just maybe, Natasha Romanoff was going to do it right this time.

You saved me.

The evening had been everything and nothing like you expected.

Dinner was at a beautiful, upscale restaurant with soft candlelight flickering across polished wood tables, glasses of wine that felt far too expensive, and Natasha—sitting across from you, more present than she had ever been. She wasn’t the untouchable agent, the mysterious woman who kept her emotions locked away. She was Natasha, just Natasha, in the soft glow of the candlelight, her laughter filling the space between the two of you, the lightness in her eyes almost enough to make you forget the weight of the years spent apart.

The night had been filled with easy conversation, the kind that flowed without effort, as though the years of silence hadn’t really existed. But it had. They had.

And yet, here you were, sitting across from her in a place that made your own paycheck look laughable, eating food that was far too rich for your taste, and all you could think about was how right this felt. You hadn’t expected it to be this natural, this easy to fall back into old rhythms, the way she looked at you like you were the only person in the room. And by the time you were back at your apartment, after a night of shared glances and a warmth between you that neither of you had ever truly experienced before, you couldn’t deny it anymore.

You wanted her. You needed her. And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to give her another chance, to let her love you, to let yourself love her again.

The moment your door clicked shut behind you both, Natasha pulled you into her, her lips capturing yours with an urgency that felt foreign, yet so familiar. There was no hesitation this time, no walls between you. Her hands roamed to your sides, pulling you closer, as though she couldn’t get enough. You met her halfway, losing yourself in the kiss, in the warmth of her touch, the way she made you feel like everything would be okay.

It wasn’t just the kiss though. It was what she said in between—her voice breaking the quiet with a rawness you hadn’t expected.

“I love you,” Natasha whispered against your lips, her hands tender as they traced over the curve of your jaw, as though she was afraid to let go. “I love you. And I never want to keep you hidden again. I’m done pretending I don’t need you. You’re everything.”

Her words hit you like a wave. They didn’t come with the weight of shame or regret this time. They were just the truth—simple, honest, and real. She loved you. After everything, after all the mistakes, she still loved you.

You breathed out a soft laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek at the raw vulnerability in her voice. She reached up, brushing it away with her thumb, as if she could erase the past for you, make everything better with that one gentle gesture.

“I’ve missed you,” you said quietly, your voice catching in your throat. “I’ve missed this.”

Natasha smiled, a single finger running down your cheek. "I don't want to hide you anymore. Let me love you in the light."

fin.

[kettlefire]

Muscle Memory (DpxDc)

Jason barely remembered getting back to his safe house or even finding his way to bed. The night had been so tiring, so busy, and so many parts of his body hurt.

The moment his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. Drifting off into dreamland for some much need sleep.

That was until a noise stirred him up from his sleep. It was a soft creak of one of his many loose floorboards.

It was in a flash that Jason was up, eyes still heavy with sleep, and a gun held to his thigh as he exited his bedroom. The soft light coming from his bathroom was the first hint.

When he pushed open the bathroom door, the sight before him had him holstering his weapon. Black hair, blue eyes, and blood. That's all Jason needed to see.

Jason would swear he wasn't still half asleep, that he knew this wasn't one of his brothers. In reality, still sluggish from a hard night and sleep deprivation, Jasin's brain had automatically assumed it was one of his baby brothers.

As he immediately settled into patching up the wounds, holding back questions for now. It wouldn't be the first time one of them came to him for aid when they didn't want Bruce to know they were hurt yet.

It was pure muscle memory as Jason worked. Yes, he didn't like the injuries, reminding himself to ask which rogue did this in the morning.

Now wasn't the time for an interrogation. Not with the barely concealed tears in those eyes, or the dark bags that decorated beneath them.

He barely grumbled for the teen to take the couch, reminding that there were extra blankets in the hallway closet. Dropping a few pills into the boy's hand to help with the pain he was surely in.

Jason left the mess in the bathroom, leaving it a problem for more awake him. He waved the boy off when he tried to speak, telling him they'll talk in the morning.

In the end, Jason was glad to finally face plant back into his bed. Barely bothering to curl up under the covers before sleep took over once again.

When morning came, Jason almost forgot about letting one of his brother's crash in his place. Stumbling out of his bedroom to immediately notice the lump on his couch.

He put a pot of coffee on, grabbing his phone, ready to let Bruce know that whoever came to him last night was safe and sound.

Except, when Jason moved over to confirm who it was, he finally noticed. This wasn't one of his brothers. And last he heard, Bruce hadn't taken in any new strays.

Jason stood over the sleeping boy, phone in one hand, and mind figuring out what to do. His mind replaying the half-asleep memories from last night.

It made sense, now that he thought about it. The boy had seemed so scared, so surprised that Jason was helping. The boy hadn't done anything either by the looks of it.

He didn't seem to have taken anything or even snooped. The boy seemed to have just crashed on the couch like Jason had told him to. He didn't come here to rob him or cause trouble. The kid had broken into his safe house only to raid his first aid kit.

The kid had broken into his safe house only to raid his first aid kit.

Well, Jason wasn't about to put Alfred's teachings to shame by being a horrible host either.

[one-green-frog]

Hi! I was so happy when I saw that your requests were open for your platonic yandere batfam series, also I’m sorry if I send in too many, just do the ones that interest you bc I can’t wait to see them!!

Can I please request them dragging you to a family movie night and sleepover (if you want) together

Snuggled in

By now, it felt like you had lived at the manor since the very beginning. The grand halls, the endless corridors, and the hidden nooks and crannies—all of it was as familiar to you as the back of your hand.

Your life had settled into a new normal. Or at least, as normal as it could be when surrounded by the Wayne family and their complete and utter devotion to you. They were obsessed, and you knew it. Their attention was intense, overwhelming at times, but you had grown to accept it. Maybe even crave it. The way they cared for you, how they anticipated your needs before you even voiced them—it was comforting, intoxicating even.

Earlier today, Dick had texted you.

"Movie night. I'll come get you later."

There was no room for declination, not that you wanted to refuse. Movie nights were one of the best things about living at the manor, especially when everyone was present. It wasn’t just about the films—it was about them, about the closeness, the warmth of being surrounded by people who made you feel safe. Sure, you loved spending time with them individually, but when they were together, it felt like a real family, a family you never wanted to leave.

So, all that was left to do now was wait, to enjoy the "calm before the storm."

It didn’t take long before Dick appeared in your doorway, his signature grin in place as he grabbed your hand and practically dragged you toward the theater room. His grip was firm—just a bit tighter than necessary, as if he feared you might pull away. As if he was still afraid you might reject them.

You knew they had doubts. That paranoia whispered to them constantly, telling them that your love for them wasn’t real, that one day, if they let their guard down, you’d disappear. It hurt knowing they feared that, but at the same time, you understood. They knew what they were doing wasn’t exactly right. The way they needed you, the way they clung to you—it was too much, even by their own standards. And yet, they couldn’t stop.

And you? You didn’t fight it. Maybe you should have, but deep down, you liked the way they cared for you. How they made you feel wanted.

When you arrived, everyone was already there, and unsurprisingly, a spot had been saved just for you. Judging by the tension in the air, there must have been a fight before you got here. The privilege of sitting next to you wasn’t something any of them would just give up. It seemed that this time, Damian and Dick had won, both looking entirely too pleased with themselves while the others shot them varying degrees of annoyance.

But now that you were here, no one dared to argue.

Time with you was precious, something none of them wanted to risk ruining. You were the one thing that held them together, that kept them from spiraling apart. They all knew it.

“Jason, why don't you pick the movie?” you said as you settled into your seat.

Jason raised a brow, looking mildly surprised but pleased. He was always good at picking movies, always knowing exactly what suited your mood. Sometimes, he chose thrillers, knowing you enjoyed the adrenaline rush. Other times, he picked romances, sweet and indulgent. No matter what he chose, you knew it would be perfect.

But in the end, the movie never really mattered.

Because the real highlight was always the closeness, the warmth of your family surrounding you.

Dick wasted no time wrapping himself around you, his body practically molding to yours. He had always been the most physically affectionate, taking any excuse to hold you. On your other side, Damian leaned against you, quiet but solid, his presence grounding. He never admitted it, but during movie nights, he always ended up snuggled against you like a cat seeking warmth.

Time passed in a comfortable blur. The others rotated around you, each finding a way to be close. Jason would ruffle your hair as he got up to grab snacks, Tim would drape himself lazily against your side when exhaustion took over, and even Bruce—ever the stoic—would rest a steady hand on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was there.

It was getting late, the movie long ended and the comforting presence of everyone slowly lulled you to sleep. You tried to fight it, wanting to enjoy the moment more, but at some point you lost the fight with sleep.

Your head grew heavier, your body sinking into the warmth around you. The others noticed almost immediately. Their voices quieted, movements slowed, as if afraid to wake you.

Bruce was the first to move. Carefully, he lifted you into his arms, his grip firm yet gentle, while Dick untangled Damian from your lap. He fell asleep first and somehow always ending up in your lap, snuggling into you as if seeking your warmth. The transition was smooth, practiced. They had done this before.

Your room was dark and quiet when Bruce laid you down, pulling the blankets over you with practiced ease. He lingered, brushing a hand through your hair, his eyes never leaving your face.

You had saved him. Saved all of them.

Bruce had long believed that some wounds would never heal, that his family would remain fractured, bound together only by shared tragedy. But then you came along—his son, his light, the one thing that brought them back together.

There were many things he regretted. Things he would never be able to fix.

But with you here, it felt like he had a second chance.

That was enough.

And as he sat beside you, watching over you as you slept, he let himself believe—just for tonight—that everything was exactly as it should be.

Taglist: @lilyalone

This was so much fun writing!

Thank you so much for requesting, I'll get to your other ask as soon as possible!

[alanisstonedd]

shooters shoot

marine!rafe x black!reader → a date at the range has his 5% tint fogged up...

cw: nsfw 16+, established relationship, operation of a firearm, semi public sexual activities, consensual groping, p in v, ass play, cum play, cussing, car sexxxx

wc: 4,700 + proofread!! (yall this actually the longest shit i've ever written omg)

an: been marinating in this idea for whileee, here it is baddies!! yall can find an intro post to marine!rafe through my masterlist!! & plz all yall send me ur dirty thoughts about him asap. kisses!! xoxo

The brush of featherlight kisses on your shoulder wakes you up most mornings - this sunny wednesday morning no different. your boyfriend's arm, littered with intricate tattoos, peeking out from under the covers. his appearance, a stark contrast to the sweetness he showers you in. but nonetheless, having him snuggled up behind you every morning felt like having a personal safety blanket (weighted ofc) there to protect your beauty sleep.

"mornin bae.." he mumbled sleepily from the curve of your neck.

"goodmorning baby... are you thinking about breakfast yet?" you quip, eyes still closed, the morning sun melting you into drowsy bliss.

his tatted hand found your hip, caressing and gripping the plush skin there. "my breakfast is right here.." he whispers, smirk practically bursting out "hot and ready." the light nips of his teeth on your neck, while convincing, couldn't distract you from the nagging thought that one of you had somewhere to be this morning.

"boy, quit playinn" you giggle as his kisses become wet and hot, his ever wandering hand caressing your stomach. "don't you have somewhere to be rafe? i'm so serious" you smirk, turning around to face him, his morning fun making it increasingly harder for you to be the rational one here.

"when has that ever stopped me?" punctuated with a light kiss, right as your world turns with unnerving speed. you find yourself posted atop his tank of a body, both tatted hands now snaking their way under your tee. chilled fingertips brush your soft breasts as your head lulls back, your own fingertips resting on his warm chest.

"just a taste bae?" he pleads, with the most devilish grin you've seen from him since yesterday, large hands now urging you down toward his chest. "absolutely not." you chuckle against his peck with warm cheeks, knowing he's kinda fronting. he's never been a late man at all, always precisely on time or early. you knew he wouldn't jeopardize a obligation, even with his truly efficient abilities.

"fine, you're not off the hook though lil girl." one hand caressing the expanse of your back, the other taking gentle fistfuls of your ass. "that's fine, hold me to it - you still have to go though big daddy." you emphasize the nickname, his rumbling laughter shaking the both of you.

you lift your head up to him, his baby blues shining in the morning rays. he gazes at you with a boyish smile, his love shining through every part of his body. never afraid to revel in his true feelings for you. he actually prefers to openly adore you - it gives him this warm feeling in his body, almost like seeing you love him is lighting him on fire or something.

"im surprising you today, okay?" he blurts out, tracing your facial features like the work of art you are. "oh?" puzzled look on your face as you kiss whatever you can catch of his hand. "yup" he quips, popping the p. your world flipped once again as he plops you next to him, unfortunately leaving you lonely to shower.

"when thoughhhhh?" you whine from the bed, not ready to leave the only warm embrace you have left at the moment. "when i come back from base. and be ready for real, because i'm taking you straight there." he yells back, stripping and starting the water.

"tch," you suck your teeth, rolling your eyes "i can be on time too, sexy muh-fucker." turning your head towards the large windows of your condo, your eyes threatening to close again.

you peek one eye open before falling fully asleep, and snatch your phone off the nightstand. setting an alarm for an hour and a half from now, knowing he'll be done in about two-ish hours, you toss it somewhere into the sea of the california king and knock out.

you jolt directly up from the bed, as your alarm blares throughout the room, startling you awake. rubbing your eyes while fishing for your phone somewhere in the sheets, but somehow feeling 10x more rested than your first wake up - which truly felt like forever ago.

one glance at your phone, kicks you into lock-in mode. "FUCK", your alarm seems to have been going off for a good twenty minutes, and you have the lesser part of 15 to be "ready for real" before rafe gets back. you cannot - under any circumstance - let him catch you lacking because he'll never let that shit go.

you skip out of bed and directly into the shower, planning a casual but cute outfit as you wash and freshen up. you go minimal with hair and makeup, feeling a little scared because you honestly think the clock is speeding up just to spite you.

in his beautifully on-time fashion, you hear rafe busting through the front door as soon as your pants are up over your butt. "bae?" his strong voice cutting through the get-ready playlist you selfishly took two full minutes to put on. "hey boo, i'm ready" you breathe, rounding the corner to meet him. his smile when he sees you never disappoints, flashing all 32, subtle dimples popping just the way you love, immediately heating you up. you go in for a hug, breathing him in through his slightly damp shirt (even better), he's a sweat-er so you know its warm out.

"you ready pretty?" he kisses your head, grin still plastered on his gorgeous face, hands planted firmly on your booty. a light squeeze to your lower cheeks earns him your "sexy grin", a dramatic eye roll, and a love slap to the chest. you lead him out the front door and to the passenger side of his big ol truck, which he opens for you and lifts you into by the waist.

the car ride to his "surprise" is filled with mindless chatter, spotify, and planning your next meal which is always a serious topic of conversation for you two. but you quickly notice he's not taking a route you recognize, "okay... do i already know what this is or is it a real surprise?" you ask, eyebrow cocked. he lets a loud chuckle escape, hand gripping your thigh across the console, thumb rubbing ever so slightly.

"yes, its a real surprise bae. you've never been here before" your uncocked eyebrow raises to meet the other, "shiiiiittt," you think for a second, then quietly question "am i gonna have to think, learn or sweat for this? or all of the above??" you sigh, realizing he might have you're ass doing some outdoor shit, which would probably present some complications with the outfit.

he laughs so hard he has to grip your thigh for purchase, "bae. what if i told you yes?" he snickers some more. "id tell you to turn this muh-fuckin car around. TUH" you fold your arms pointedly, just to show him you're deadass. at this point rafe's face is flushed from how much hes laughing, "nah bae, you just get to be your crash-out self. and be all up on me..." he manages to squeeze out in between laughs. and now you're confused, because, although you love those two things individually, you have no idea how they could possibly be combined. "now how the hell you finna combine those..." you mutter, sparing him a glance. "you gotta wait and see bae." with a full belly chuckle once again, his paw of a hand moves to cup your pussy through your pants and rub lightly like its affectionate or something. you look at him, unamused, but he simply flashes you a killer smirk with a squeeze to the coochie.

so you wait patiently, intrigued and a little nervous at what he has planned. when you arrive at what seems to be some sort of warehouse, he finally removes his hand from your pussy with a mean smack, "aye boy!" you whip your head over to him with a sharp look, now on edge from all the groping he's been doing for the remainder of the ride. but he's already out the damn truck, stalking around the front to open your door and help you out, by the waist, straight to the ground. you wouldn't sweat one droplet if it was up to him - except when y'all fuckin of course.

upon entering the mysterious warehouse, you immediately clock this is a gun range date. considering rafe has been yapping nonstop about teaching you how to protect yourself, how to use a gun just in case, and his plans to take you to the range routinely, you're actually not surprised at all.

hes grinning at you as you wait in the front desk line, his arm around your waist, rubbing absentmindedly. "so?? how surprised are you bae?" earning him yet another suck of the teeth, "how surprised you think i am? this is all you talk about rafe" you play with his fingers on your hip, as you both move up in line. "i knowwww bae, are you excited tho?", he grins more, gently pulling your head back and kissing your lips, "actually? i think i am a little excited lowkey... i don't really know what to expect, but... you got me right?". you breathe out, moving up to the desk, and you swear you can see him vibrating with happiness in your peripheral. "duh, of course i got you bae" he says from behind you, landing a fervent smack to your booty as he moves up after you.

the man at the desk literally daps up rafe and they starting chatting, his arm anchored to your waist without so much as a flinch. the man immediately starts grabbing various items, seemingly without a thought, and you start to realize... you're kinda like a celebrity by association in the military world? you chuckle at the fact that hundreds of thousands of men and boys around the world literally admire, look up to, and actually talk about your boyfriend - like out loud and in the media too. not that you don't do all of those things practically everyday - but to you, he's really just... your baby, rafe.

"listen son, they not payin' yo ass enough out there. you doin' big things, and not just what you doin' for this country. I mean, you really a weapon, boy." rafe quirks half his smile up, giving the man a nod.

"thank you sir, i just do my best. but i appreciate that, i really do. its my honor." rafe picks up the basket of goods, with another nod to the man. "anytime son. you a hero, nothin' less. and this must be the missus - what she doin' with no ring son?? aye you better act right, you a lucky man." the man chuckles, clasping both hands over your one hand and gently shaking. "its a pleasure ma'am." you laugh politely at his jokes, leaning into rafe on instinct, "its very nice to meet you sir". he pushes himself away from the counter with a nod and a wave, shouting "y'all be safe in there." you and rafe wave back awkwardly, him pulling you along by the waist.

"alright, am i trippin', or was he too fuckin' chatty" rafe laughs, once yall are through the door to the shooting lanes. "yeah, that was a lot..." you giggle, following rafe to what you assume is yall's lane, hands interlocked. you're hit with pungent smell of hot rubber, metal, and smoke but you kinda get used to it by the time y'all settle in.

rafe is professionally trained in this stuff, so you just listen extra careful - proving harder than you thought with the thundering pop of gunshots going off every so often. yall make silly small talk while he sets you both up with protective glasses and ear protection, complete with a built in mic for conversation. attaching the target to the rail and sending it out, he moves you into the lane with his body directly behind you. you can already feel the heat from his furnace of a body and you can tell this is gonna be a problem.

"okay," he says, leaning into your ear, hands on the front of your hips, pressing you back even further into his front. "whats the first thing you do?" your head is juuuuuuuuust clear enough to be reminded every so often that you're handling a dangerous weapon, but hes towing the damn line. "rafe, if you gon' be pressure the whole time just tell me what to do. i know you know i can't think right now..." you sigh, hearing him snicker through the headset, "okayyy, damn."

he picks up the gun and places all of your fingers precisely where they need to be, slowly explaining why they're placed there and the use of every part. but your ass is not really listening at all, because his cologne literally has you in a fucking fog. that or the way he readjusts every so often and presses his hips flush up against yours whenever he changes topics. or the way his large, thick, art covered hands caress your fingers and guide guide them where he wants them, exactly when he wants. or the way you can feel his hot breath fanning over your neck and sometimes even a brush of his soft, full lips when he leans in to show you something specific.

by the time he raises your hands up to point at the target, you bout ready to leave. his deep voice is saying something about "easing on the trigger" so you very slowly start pulling, and before you know it, a loud bang sounds out, and theres a hole a few inches below the center of the target. that startles you from your fog a little bit, because you're still gagged that you just shot a gun, and hit the target at all. but he moved the gun to the table again, so hes back to feeling on your hips, one hand traveling down to cup you and the other snaking up to your nipple poking through your shirt. "im so proud of you bae." he breathes, smirk deeeeep in his voice, with a kiss to the back of your neck.

you can very clearly feel how rock-fucking-hard he is and you think... its a little insane that he's so turned on by this. you realize the wetness in your panties is starting becoming an issue so you slap his hands away before he can make his way underneath any clothes, "rafe," you grit through your teeth, "quit. right now. we are soo close to other people. i'm taking two more shots and then we're out, okay". his hands have stopped wandering, his arms now wrapped around your waist. you can feel his smirk against the back of your neck, and he kisses there lightly, picking up the gun, "yes ma'am".

you bit your tongue through those last couple shots, thighs rubbing together, eventually becoming a little restless in the absence of his groping.

you literally wanted to pull his dick out - you couldn't take it. immediately after your last shot, you snatched his keys and ran out of the place, head down, too ashamed too ashamed to look anyone in the face let alone the chatty man.

you could finally breathe in the quiet safety of his truck, the 5% tint on all windows giving you the privacy you needed. you're still hot as fuck though. the thought of shedding some layers crosses your mind, but you brush it off, thinking rafe would probably open the door any second. but as more and more time passes, baking in the heat combined with flashbacks from the range, you start to get uncomfortably hot. you could rip his clothes off in this state, and a part of you wishes you could get back at him somehow.... but before you can make up your mind the sound of the drivers side door opening startles you, your head whipping towards him.

he looks like a fucking wet dream, sweating from the heat, blue eyes sparkling, sun shining down on him making his tan, tatted skin glisten... muscles bulging, and bulge straining... just how you like it. his shirt hiked up revealing a happy trail peekaboo is just the cherry on top. you can't stand it. "rafe. did they hold you hostage? the fuck took you so long?" you blurt, sounding a little frazzled. he climbs into the truck, starting it "yes, actually. chatty unc did hold me hostage. chill bae, the fuck happened in here..." he chuckles, side eying you and wrapping his whole hand around your thigh.

you freeze - his hand on your leg feels like a hot iron, even though the air conditioning has been blasting for at least a two minutes. you're jolted back to his antics in there, feeling the imprint of his throbbing dick against your ass, his hands everywhere you needed them all at once, his lips on your neck leaving a sickly trail of heat in their wake.

"oh HELL nah-" your hands fly to your shirt, as you struggle to strip your clothes against the wet friction of your skin, "its too fuckin hot bruh- i don't know what the fuck-" you almost rip your pants in two trying to get them down your legs "yo ass think-" more struggling, you're audibly out of breath at this point "this. shit. is." you lull your head back against the seat once you're only clad in your skims lace bralette and panty.

"you okay baby?" you catch his eyes locked on you, signature smirk struggling to be hidden. "what you think rafe?" you say, slowly turning to him. now that you're comfortable, your head seems perfectly cleared... of everything but fucking him stupid.

"i think.. we need to get you home crazy" he lets out a cackle, gripping the gearshift, ready to get on the road. "oh! you thought that was cute or something?" you laugh, hand gripped around his, stopping his movement. "that little stunt you pulled back there?" he's unusually quiet, but still smirking, so you can tell he knows what you want - in all honesty he can smell it. you just fell right into his trap. all day, he's been replaying the promise you made him this morning before he left.

"fine, you're not off the hook tho lil girl." one hand caressing the expanse of your back, the other taking gentle fistfuls of your ass. "thats fine, hold me to it - you still need to go tho big daddy."

he was going to make sure you kept that promise whether you knew it or not. he definitely enjoyed watching you squirm in front of him the whole time, his dick certainly leaking all over his boxers by now. he would've pulled his dick out right there in the lane if you'd wanted him to, but it looks like you enjoy him teasing you to the point of no return.

"you gon give me sum' for all that torture rafe." you whisper, eyes locked on his lips, hand on his moving to his straining cock. you grip it, eyes flashing up to his, which are already locked on yours. he slowly puts the truck back in park, "get in the back." its quick but you can hear the same strain in his voice.

"no. you-"

"get. in the back." his eyes close, hand still locked on the gearshift, so you decide you should get to climbing. by the time you're settled in the seat behind yours he's opening the backseat door and dragging you by your ankles to lay flat. he climbs in over you, slamming the door behind him. immediately he's on you, your lips dancing together, the fervency bringing back that excruciating heat you felt earlier. the backseat of his truck is actually pretty big, but due to his large stature, its tight quarters right now. you can feel every hard ridge of him pressed against you, his lips searing a wet trail right up your neck to the underside of your jaw. and the smell of his truck's leather mixed with his cologne drags you into the fog all over again.

the contrast of you being basically naked and him being completely clothed doesn't feel right at all. so as he pulls his shirt off, your hands find the corded muscles of his back, traveling down to slip under the lip of his pants. "ohh-, you- got some fuckin nerve rafe- " you manage breathlessly between kisses, as he rubs on your pussy through the thin material. he moves swiftly towards your tits sitting plump and pretty in the equally thin material. his eyes are locked on yours as he sucks on a nipple through the bralette, "nah" he moves to the other nipple, sucking harder, his lashes falling against his face blissfully. "i just know you bae" he punctuates with a firm nip on your bud and you feel a gush of slick wet your panties.

with locked eyes, he smirks, moving your panties to the side and slipping a finger in, thumbing your clit with a skillfull touch. your lips mingle with each others, rafe's groans echoing throughout the tight space as you work his zipper down and pull him out. slow strokes have his eyes closed and his teeth pulling down your bra for a better taste of your breasts.

he glances down to see your cunt creaming on his fingers, the soft moans spilling from your lips sound like he's being ushered into heaven, "shit... she been calling to me alllll," with a few flicks of his thumb against your clit, you're shouting, "fuckin' day". smiling like he's never been happier, he floats back to your mouth, tongue snaking in with yours, teeth nipping your lips. "fuck me rafe" you breathe, still stroking him, his dick now lathered in his own precum, tip gliding slowly against your slit. he pushes the tip in carefully, and you can't help but throw your head back, finally feeling the slightest bit of relief. "say please, baby.", he snickers, laving a scorching stripe up your neck, practically making out with it. "RAFE SHUT YO A-" before you can pop him for playing with you he pushes in to the hilt, "ohhh shh- it" you grit out, your body seizing for a second.

he starts with short, strong, pumps. grinding against you with the full strength of his hips. you can see the reflection of his back muscles rippling and his juicy butt clenching in the window. you pull him into you to lick the sweat off his neck, triggering a deep groan you feel on your tongue, "fuuuck, i love you baby." he's pulling back more to push into you a little rougher, the force of his thrust creating an uncomfortable friction between the seat and your skin. but his soft lips suckling your breast and his thumb now glued to your clit, erase any and all uncomfort whatsoever. you moan out, like sex in his ears "UUHH- ohhhhh, i love you bae- uhhh right thereee-" thats all you can manage, with your hand on his head, keeping his mouth pressed to your tits.

he glances up at you... a lush vision, like something out of his very own dreams - literally. he sits up, ready to give you everything you didn't even know you needed. he has one hand caging your waist in, and another on your hip as he lets out a breathy groan, watching with intent as your pretty pussy creams a pearlescent ring around the base of him, mixing with his pubes. he can feel your juices dripping down his balls as he moves the hand by your waist, up to the door behind you head.

the truck has to be rocking, with how serious rafe is at the moment. your eyes just about roll back as he starts jackhammering into you, his thick mushroom tip hitting your spot perfectly. his hips working, thrusting forcefully and grinding against you, all in one fluid movement. the feel of his coarse pubes on your clit, his chain swinging to and fro over your face, his deep grunts ringing in your ears - just when you though that was to much, his thrusts get even rougher, plunging into you so harsh, the with of him stretching you so dreamily. "oh shit- yeahh.." he breathes out, leaning down to lick the sparkling perspiration off your skin, his tongue traveling from sucking hickeys on your neck down to your breast yet again, blue eyes fluttering shut.

"rafe- fuuuckkk- im gonna-" he snaps up, immediately getting a second wind hearing your exclamation, thumb working quick circles on your clit. "yeah?" he exhales, "thats fuck?" he says taunting you while angling his hips to hit it right where you need it. he stuffs his hoodie under your butt to get a better position, and the pressure from this angle takes over your body, his hands caressing you, working your clit, it all sends you over the edge. through the buzzing of your senses you hear the splat splat of your pussy - "FUCK- bae i'm cuming-" and his warm seed flooding you. he slows but doesn't falter, his hips still hitting you like a tank. the only sounds in the truck being the squelch of your combined cum and the sultry flow of your combined moans.

"rafe-" he sits down on the seat and swoops you up off of it, moving you to rest your back against the center console in front of him, your dripping cunt resting in his lap. he lightly kisses your inner thigh, sending you a sexy wink, that forces a light chuckle out of you, and he dives in without another word. his tongue slurping you up like the best treat he's ever had, calculated circles going on your now overstimulated clit. your hand travels to his buzzed head as he sucks each lip into his mouth, slowly moving to suckle around you're clit. his face is shining with the both of your cum smeared all over it, and you don't think he ever get finer.

you can't hold your tongue any longer when his own travels down to your hole, licking you inside and out. fucking you with the scorching muscle, slurping up the mix of you both thats dripping out of you like honey. "mmmmm- shi-" he groans, the taste of his cum mixing with yours makes him lightheaded. you feel him start to suck on your throbbing clit once again, showering her in passionate kisses and the most earth-shattering ministrations, fingers still pumping in and out of you below. you stretch your arms back over your head, as he somehow sticks another finger in your ass. you start to ride his face, your hips fully in his hands, as he manages to pump that finger - you're so close you can taste it.

your vision spots as he suckles extra hard on your aching bud, his wanton groaning vibrating through your pussy. your body locks up and rafe's mouth stays glued to your pussy, releasing it with a pop!, then going back in and making sure he doesn't miss a drop of your sweet juice. the whole truck smells like sex and sweat as you catch your breath, reveling in the tenderness of his touch, him lips peppering sweet kisses over your thighs and stomach, while cleaning you both up with a towel he keeps in the back.

he dresses you, then dresses himself, while you both share sweet pecks every now and again, basking in the after glow. "i guess you were gonna have to sweat no matter where i took you, huh." he smirks, letting his hands wander over your hips and ass, as you chill in his lap.

"boy shut up, this was your little plan all along, i know you too...." you laugh, eyes rolling sassily. "damn right it was" he shoots you a devilish look before locking your lips, tongues entangled so deeply you almost take each others clothes off again. he hops out the truck with a pop to your booty, as you climb back up to the passenger seat feeling delightfully sated.

"bae, can we get chipotle before we go home?" he calls from outside the truck before climbing in, your stomach rumbling before he even said it. you turn to him with a blissful look, placing your hand on his cheek, "damn, you know my heart... drive". he kisses your hand as he pulls out of the parking lot. "i wonder if that chatty guy saw me run out the door like a lunatic..." you think out loud, car playlist bumping in the background. you play with his fingers that were just inside you churning up your cum and his, and smile deviously. rafe chuckles "HA! i wonder if he knew what we were doin' parked outside for so long..."

"grandbabies fa' sho' on the way..." the chatty man says, watching rafe's black truck finally drive away.

©  alanisstonedd 2025 — do not steal, plagiarise, or modify my content.

hope y'all liked this! likes and reblogs and all the rest much appreciated!!!

xoxo, lana 💋💋💋

[specsthesecond]

🃏👑🃏

You were married off to the king as a young noble woman. The arrangement was rather rushed in your opinion, not that anyone asked for it. The king only needed a show wife, a quiet but present symbol for the kingdom and you suited well enough for that.

He didn’t need a wife for pleasure, he had plenty mistresses for that and he seemed to be in no rush for a successor. You suspected it was because he had no intent to hand over power to anyone else anytime soon. Although, that's just what you assumed, others never blamed him for it. You were always the target of the hushed whispers and silent accusations of infertility, unruliness or even infidelity when it came to the subject of an heir.

The people's gossip aside, it was an easy marriage. You didn’t have to share a bed with a man you didn’t love and you didn’t have to raise his children. Many more deserving women would kill for such a life, which only made you feel worse about the utter discontent you felt. It was the loneliness, mostly. Such a privileged life and yet not a single companion in the world to share it with.

The king and his advisers only speak to you when they need you to make an appearance as queen. Their orders always dripping with condescension and near mockery. They’ve made you smile and wave for hours, waltz until your feet blister and recite a holy text’s worth of pompous poetry but this most recent ploy was particularly concerning.

You sit on your throne next to your husband, hands in your lap, staring at the colourful figure in front of you. The bells on his ridiculous hat jingle as he bows his head so low they almost touch the marble floor. Quiet chuckles emit from the nobility crowding the massive ballroom and the unease in your stomach only builds.

When the jester picks his head back up, you can’t help fiddling even more with your dress, just like your husband's advisers have scolded you not to. The jester silently stares with a sheet white face, big red grin painted across his mouth. You want to shrink under the jesters stare, the blue diamonds painted over his eyes make his gaze feel piercing.

The king grins when he catches your nervous gaze.

“Do you like your surprise, my love? I thought you could use some cheering up lately. As did my advisers.”

He chuckles, looking over at the old men in the corner of the room. They smile back, amusing in a joke you're not a part of.

You just nod your head as politely as possible. You don’t know what's happening, but whatever they have planned can’t be good.

The jester skips up to where you and the king sit. He gives an exaggerated curtsy to the king, earning a laugh from him and the various nobility.

The bells jingle as he springs back up and steps closer to you. He stretches his hand out, you stare at it and then back to your husband.

“The fool wants a dance, my dear. Give him a dance.”

You try to hide the apprehension on your face and reach for the jesters white glove-covered hand. He doesn’t squeeze or pull you up like you expected, instead he holds it gently, waiting for your next move. You rise from your throne and cast one more glance at your husband, who only offers a self-satisfied grin in return. This whole time all they've wanted from you is a perfect queen and now they want you to dance with a fool?

The jester walks you to the middle of the room, encircled by leering nobility. He places your hand on his waist before dramatically correcting the mistake and placing it on his shoulder instead, looking bashfully to the audience who snicker at the joke. He takes your other hand in his and gives you a little nod before the musicians starts playing and he guides you into step.

Now obviously you know very well how to dance, you enjoyed it quite a bit when you were little although, now it’s just become another part of your queenly duties. Did any of that even matter now? Now that it’s clear the king and his peers see you as just as much of a joke as the man you’re waltzing with.

Your deep thoughts are broken when said man unexpectedly twirls you in a dizzying circle. You flail slightly in your surprise but you’re brought back into his arms just as quickly to continue your steps. You fully focus on him now and you wonder what his features look like under that gaudy clown makeup. Even in the bright chandelier lights of the ball room, you can’t make out the colour of his irises. Earlier, you thought they were hazel but now it seems they're an impossibly dark brown.

The dark pools look as if they could swallow all the colour from his face and your own. Actually, has he blinked even once during this dance, or at all for that matter?

You’re not sure if it was your mistake or the jester’s but you step on his foot and he suddenly pulls away from you. He clutches his foot and jumps up and down in theatrical pain. The room bursts into laughter, bellows and cackles. These elite men and women delight in the humiliating performance you’re both putting on for them. It takes everything in you not to cave right there in the middle of it. Why are you being humiliated when you've done nothing wrong?

While the jeering continues, you try your best to steel yourself, replacing the need to cry with spiteful compliance. If they want a dance, they can have a dance.

You curtsy at the jester, offering an apology and hold your hand out to him. He looks around and then points to himself. You can’t help but smile and nod your head.

He takes your hand and when the music starts back up again, you step in time to the beautiful melody. You try and put your full attention on the jester, not anyone else in the large room, which proves to be quite easy as he is by far the most interesting person present. You can just make out the small smile under the red painted grin, his relaxed eyebrows under the bright blue diamonds, the crook of his pointy nose.

While moving in sync, you become almost lost in trying to map out his face under the make-up. You look for imperfections in the face paint but can’t seem to find a single smudge or brush streak, in fact the paint looks impressively even, like it’s a second skin.

It truly does feel like its only you two and the music, for the first time in a long time you feel wanted by someone else.

But when the king grows bored he demands new entertainment.

He motions for the musicians to stop their music and you’re brought back to reality. The jester bows for the crowd, he gestures to you and you offer a little curtsy before being escorted back to your throne. Form there, you watch the rest of the strange performers routine. He juggles an impressive amount of miscellaneous items, he folds himself into ridiculous positions, walks on his hands and generally makes a fool of himself for the crowd.

You watch in delight, though your husband doesn't seem as interested as he was before your little dance.

You think about the jester all the way back to your courters that night. You think about him as you slip on your night dress and slide into bed, and you think of him as you stare up at the ceiling for possibly hours. There is too much on your mind, the fun of watching the jesters performance has subsided and thoughts of what this means for your reputation and position in the court remain constant. A sigh leaves you as you lift yourself up and open the doors to your balcony.

You lean on the balcony ledge and stare out at the starry night sky, not even the strange jester can distract from the humiliation ritual you were just a part of. He could have been in on it for all you know and you're just naive enough to think he was being kind to you during the whole thing.

A shuffling sound from behind you makes you turn your head and it takes you just a split second to register the very colourful jester standing in the corner of your balcony.

The screech you let out is smothered by your own hand. You clutch the edge of the balcony, staring at the slender man who puts his hands up, waving apologies while moving his chest as if laughing, nothing comes out of his mouth. You clutch your heart, breathing quite heavily as you stare at him bewildered. You look around trying to discern where he could have come from, and how you only now hear his bells jingle as he waves his hands, still apologising.

He steps closer and stands tall in front of you, he’s much more imposing than you remember him being. He holds up one finger and then mimics a waltz. His head bows low and he holds his hand out for you to take. He’s asking for another dance but is there really much of a choice at all? Has this also been planned? If you say no, will he just leave? Do you want him to leave? The dance you shared was the most delightful time you've had in so, so long

You stare at him for a good while, he stays with his hand outstretched, bent over at a near 90 degree angle, not straining even a little. The longer you wait, the more uncomfortable you feel in his unwavering presence.

Against your better judgement, you reach out and touch his gloved hand. He curls his fingers around yours and stands upright. You let him bring your hand to his shoulder, place his hand on your waist and step closer. This time is different from the last time. Now it really does feel like his attention is only on you, not with the other guests, not with the performance. It should be frightening, but you find no malice in his eyes, no ridicule in his demeanor.

As he steps into motion, you begin a slow waltz in the small space of your balcony. It's slower than in the ballroom, it's more intimate. While you dance with this complete stranger, your thoughts run rampant, you second guess your judgement again and again. Maybe the kindness you sense from him is a ruse. Maybe he is here on behalf of the king, setting up another degrading show. He could even be an assassin, come to rid you quietly in the middle of the night.

You would deserve such a fate for giving in so easily. You slowly spin in his arms and this time you don't hear the snide laughs of the nobility, just the sounds of the night. Both of you step in time and you let him guide you to the edge of your balcony. You hold your breath as he dips you over the ledge. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out what could be your last breath ready for him to let go and let you fall.

But he doesn't let go, your grip on his shoulders never slips. You open your eyes, a bit blurry from wetness but you can make out his face, because it's right in front of you even though you're bent over the balcony far enough that your feet have left the ground. You stare back at his unrelenting gaze. In the dim light of the moon his eyes look even darker than before and something new swims in the deep black of his pupils, something sad.

They are lidded as they examine your face, your entire being. His hand on your back presses your chest further into his until you're sure he can feel your rapid heartbeat through your very flesh.

He lifts you upright again, turning you away from the ledge and out of harms way. You’re still chest to chest, he’s so close but you can’t feel him breathe. Your wide eyes stare up at him, trying to discern his expression. Your breaths are short and your grip on him hasn’t let up a bit.

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, the warm fabric of his gloves on your cold cheeks has you easing into them far too easily. His eyes examine every inch of your face while his thumbs stroke your cheeks, you can just barely see the frown on his lips behind the painted smile. He brings your face closer to his, slow and methodical, making it very clear what his next move is. You’re not sure if this was due to his own hesitation or to give you time to pull away, regardless you let him inch closer and closer until his lips grazed yours and you finally feel him breathe out one long breath.

The kiss is deep. Despite being slow and gentle, it still forces a struggled breath from you. You would’ve thought he tasted like paint but he doesn’t, he’s warm and inviting. It’s nice.

Your eyes close, surrendering all hesitation to the stranger in your arms. Fingers dig into the fabric of his puffy striped sleeves as your body melts further into his. You quickly learn to breathe through your nose, out of necessity and unwillingness to part from his affections.

You let him work your mouth open, slipping his tongue inside. The feeling is so foreign, you can’t help but whine. The backs of his fingers flutter over your throat and you shiver.

His tongue fills your mouth, sliding along yours and savouring your taste. The wet muscle reaches far into your mouth, farther than you thought normal but your experience is slim and you don’t have the awareness to fully question it. It’s overwhelming. Your knees tremble and he lowers you both to the cold stone floor. His tongue reaches into your throat, a feat you know is impossible.

You’re too lost to even think of the implications of this, as you gag and convulse around the thick muscle in your throat that no longer feels like a normal tongue. He reaches so far, your eyes roll back, your lower region warms uncomfortably and you forget how to breathe. You tap his shoulders quickly, a plea for air, and he retreats from your throat. He holds you as you cough and heave, wiping the spit from your chin.

You look at him with the an expression full of shock and fear and bewilderment and every other emotion shooting through your fuzzy mind. His expression is hard to discern but he seems both amused and sad.

He stands and brings you up on shaky legs. When he starts to back away, you panic and clutch his hands tighter. You don’t know what you were hoping for. That he would stay? That he would spend the night with you?

His face is full of what you hope is longing and not pity, you know what pity looks like. He holds you close in what you know is a goodbye embrace. He presses his forehead to yours and he places one last short kiss on your lips. Its playfull and very much not what you’d consider a proper good bye kiss. You search his gaze and you’re met with rather boyish mirth, lifting your spirits slightly. Maybe this isn't goodbye then?

He winks at you and takes your hand, spinning you around once, twice and three times before he lets go. When you rebalance yourself and look around the balcony, there is no sight of the jester. It's just the pitying sounds of the night and your only other witness, the moon. Like he was never there at all.

[kazumist]

SWEETLY BAKED WITH LOVE .ᐟ

✩ — in which zayne finds himself in a problem with his older patients relentlessly introducing and telling him about their daughters and granddaughters to him because he's single. what's a good way to shoo them off? perhaps wearing a keyring and fake dating your friend would do the trick!

✩ — includes: zayne x f!baker!reader. fluff. fake dating trope (not executed properly sorry i dont think i gave it justice), not much drama and confession scene is a bit boring imo :/, pace is a bit messy, based of that one part in the cdrama "the best thing", cw: food mentioned (baked sweets and wine), they're both idiots in love, wc: 7,166. i went insane Yes so what.

✩ — note: hi babes @koiukiy-o it's finally finished like can u believe it. i finished it in one fucking day initially but i woke up at 6am in the morning today (its around half past 7am by the time posting this) and added a bit more.

for zayne, being a young, famous, and favored doctor in akso hospital isn’t as pleasing as it sounds. only because the majority of his older patients try to match him up with their daughters with every given chance during their appointments scheduled with him. 

at first, it wasn’t all that serious. zayne even initially thought that maybe elderlies these days have started to grow accustomed to sharing stories of their children—of their daughters, specifically, who are coincidentally in the same age range as him. perhaps it was a new thing; yeah, that was probably it.

until the introductions became more frequent. 

ONE: AS SURPRISING AS A SUDDEN BLUEBERRY CHEESECAKE AT YOUR DOOR.

from a father whose daughter is a successful certified public accountant (CPA) to a mother whose daughter is currently a cardiology resident in a nearby hospital, the names and positions of these women have started to jumble in his head. all zayne could do is take a deep breath and smoothly deflect the questions of his patients regarding his current relationship status.

“dr. zayne, you know, i have this daughter..." here we go again. zayne tunes out whatever the old woman was saying, nodding every now and then to convince her that he was interested. the old woman’s daughter was something of a business owner, though it’s not like zayne is actually paying that much attention to the description his patient was giving him. his focus is solely on the results that are in his hands.

“do you have someone special in your life right now, dr. zayne?” zayne pauses; the shuffling of the lab reports in his hands stopped as he processed the question. 

does he?

zayne doesn’t think that he does.

he has a few people that he cherishes in his life, yes. but does he think of himself settling down with someone by his side? well… not really—not yet, at least. zayne hasn’t given it that much thought himself. “before i answer that question, let’s discuss what your results have given us…” this method of zayne changing the subject works like a charm every time he does it. and with a blink of an eye, the old woman forgot her question and left after getting her new prescriptions from him.

zayne leans back on his chair, taking off his specs and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. he takes a deep breath, until his peace is interrupted by a knock at his door. the old woman should’ve been the last one; yvonne just came in and told him so not so long ago. he sits up right, fixing his posture as his professionalism starts to take over.

yet when the door creaks open to reveal you, zayne’s shoulders relax as he sits back once again.

maybe his peace wasn’t interrupted after all.

“what brings you here?” he asks you, eyeing you suspiciously as you’re obviously hiding something from him behind your back. “i come bearing gifts—one sweet little blueberry cheesecake from your favorite bakery! tadaaaa!” you say, revealing the little box to zayne and settling it on his desk, hoping he’d also envision the imaginary jazz hands you were doing before putting a plastic fork on top of it for him to use.

zayne has a sweet tooth and that’s practically common knowledge to you. and with you owning a bakery... well, let’s just say that the youngest heart surgeon in linkon city plays his favorites when it comes to shops that sell sweet pastries. 

a smile cracks onto his face as he sees the box. gently removing the fork on top and opening the box, zayne inspects the blueberry cheesecake before him as if contemplating if he should eat it now or save it when he gets home. “you don’t have to eat it now, silly. i just wanted to drop it off before your work ends today,” you say.

“no, it’s alright. i’ll eat it now. the toppings could get ruined when i travel back home.”

as he starts taking a few bites, you propped your chin onto your palm and lean on it, staring at the sweet dessert that’s slowly being consumed right in front of you. “sooo, do you have someone in your life right now, dr. zayne?” you asked him, putting emphasis on the way you called him as a sign of mockery.

zayne deadpans at your question, suddenly stopping himself from getting another bite. his expression is clearly conveying a message to you wordlessly: are you being serious right now? but zayne just sighs and continues on getting another bite before replying. “how did you know about that?”

“i heard you two through the door. and when your last patient came out—she was a delight, by the way, greeting me so kindly—she suddenly asked me if i was your girlfriend! i obviously didn’t answer her properly and good thing yvonne came in to save the day and escort her out of the cardiology department.” you told him.

the sweetness of the small piece of blueberry glides across his senses as he listens to you. zayne finds himself sighing deeply for what seems like the nth today, twirling the fork in his hand as he thinks. he doesn’t like burdening this problem of his with you, especially when you have nothing to do with it. “seems like you’re thinking about a lot there. are your thoughts being consumed by the numerous names that got mentioned to you?” you teased.

“i beg your pardon?”

“i was only kidding! you looked so deep in thought there. is everything alright?”

zayne doesn’t know either. he doesn’t know how long he could keep deflecting and changing the topics when his patients try to pry into this part of his life. he has a soft spot for his patients, sure, and he’s satisfied with his job. though zayne didn’t know that he would be signing up for this when he became a cardiac surgeon.

“yes, my apologies. i seemed to have spaced out for a moment there.”

you glance over him, observing his mannerisms and his habits. whenever zayne twirls or plays with the item in his hand, it means he’s thinking. whenever he sits back on his chair, that means he’s relaxed. yet you never seen him space out—not until now, at least—and that’s what’s different.

odd.

but you didn’t push the topic further, as you’re well aware that zayne isn’t the type to express himself so freely. and as if a light bulb literally just gained it’s light inside your brain, the gears inside your head started turning as you suddenly got an idea. “i think i just got the greatest idea of my life.” you asked him.

“and what would that be?” he asks back. should i be scared? he thinks.

“you’ll see! just you wait and look forward to the next time i’ll drop by and visit.” you flash him a grin as zayne finishes the last bit of the blueberry cheesecake.

TWO: AS ENTICING AS SIX MACARONS SERVED RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

the next time you saw each other, you didn’t visit zayne. zayne visited you, striding towards you sitting behind the counter. today was a saturday. and during saturdays, you open your shop a bit later than your usual opening time during weekdays. 

seeing the doctor visit your shop sometimes gives you a pinch of nostalgia coursing through you. you never would’ve expected to form a connection with a praised doctor in linkon in your life. but you don’t really have any regrets about it. you enjoy the surgeon’s company and he seems to enjoy yours.

“and what brings you here today, dr. zayne?” you say, greeting him as his eyes scan the pastries displayed before him. “please, refrain from the formalities. do you have anything new to recommend?” he replies.

your gaze follows his as you join him in looking for a pastry to offer. “hmm… oh! i know! you could taste test a new macaron flavor i’ve been trying. would you mind taking a seat while i got get them for you?” zayne nods before finding himself a seat and you take that as your cue to start running towards the kitchen located at the inner part of your establishment. 

when you got out, you joined him at the two-seater table he decided on, sitting across from him. “lately, i’ve been indulging myself in making macarons, right? and i wanted a different flavor for a change so i paired two ingredients together! take a bite and guess what it is.” you said, pushing the box of macarons towards him.

zayne inspects the macarons in front of him, attempting to deduce the flavor. it has a light brown color, with the filling having a deeper shade of brown. could it be two types of chocolate? he thinks. 

“staring at it will get you nowhere if you don’t actually taste it, you know.”

he snaps out of his thoughts at your words. he awkwardly coughs into his fist, avoiding your gaze. you stifled a laugh at him but zayne noticed it, feeling his ears grow hot. “ahem. pardon me for that. i’ll taste them now.” he says, grabbing a piece of the pastry. as soon as he takes a bite, the familiar taste of coffee beans (perhaps roasted?) and nutella washes over his tongue.

you were right; this was a different flavor that you don’t see often. “it’s delicious. were the coffee beans roasted? or were they grounded?” a small gasp escapes your lips at his question. “it was roasted, yeah! i’m surprised you noticed that; i didn’t think anyone would.”

“i felt the small chunks of the coffee beans as i chewed. and nutella as a filling balances the taste of the beans. i’d say it’s a good product to endorse.”

“really?”

zayne hums in agreement, finishing the macaron in his hand before grabbing another one from the box. “i recall that you haven’t told me your “idea” yet since the last time we saw each other.” he says, before taking another bite.

“oh! sorry about that; i keep forgetting to stop by akso hospital lately. but worry not—i didn’t forget about my idea!” you replied, fishing something out of your pocket. it was a keyring, though it wasn’t that obvious at first glance. “your idea is... a keyring?” he asks.

“wrong, the keyword is ring!” you say, grabbing his hand to check if it fits on his ring finger.

you seemed unaware of the effect of your actions, suddenly taking zayne by surprise by your sudden touch. he feels the cold metal wrap around the ring finger of his dominant hand. “look, it’s a perfect fit! just remember to always have it on, especially when you have appointments and surely those introductions would be gone, right?”

zayne inspects the keyring around his finger, flipping his hand as he takes it in. “i never would’ve expected that a keyring could act as a marriage ring.” he states. “m-marriage ring?!” you exclaimed. i never really thought of it as that. you thought, mentally sweatdropping. “is it not supposed to be?” zayne’s gaze at you shows obvious confusion. “well… i guess it could serve as that. i just thought of it as some fake promise ring that you could use at most.”

“the purpose is the same. i don’t think it matters what it stands for—the main purpose of this is to show my older patients that i’m taken, right?”

“yup! it’s nothing much, really, but i feel bad for what you have to endure when you have your appointments. do you think it would work?” you reply.

“we just have to play our cards right and then we’ll see.”

“mhm! wait—we?”

“yes, we. did i say something wrong?” there he goes again with the confused look.

“what do you mean… we?” this better not be what i’m thinking. you hoped, bracing yourself for whatever bomb he was about to drop.

but just as your luck to that runs out, zayne replies. “i thought we were both going to be wearing keyrings?” fuck, i knew it. you thought. inside your head, you can envision yourself on all fours, punching the ground as you also try to think of something—anything to reply with. 

“but you’re the only one who has this... conflict. what use would it be if i also wore one?”

before zayne could even realize it, he already took a step and started sailing in dangerous, uncharted waters. “you told me a few times, including the time that you last visited, that my patients have wondered and asked if you were my significant other. wouldn’t it be more convincing if we were to uphold that sentiment?”

you swore you could feel your soul drain itself out of your body.

“so you want us to... fake date, basically? so we could stop your older patients from introducing their endless amount of daughters and granddaughters? did i get that right?” you ask again, just to be sure if what you’re hearing is actually right and real.

“yes, you’re quite spot-on.” 

“you’re lucky that i have two keyrings by coincidence.”

well, it’s not like it’s going to be anything serious. and it’s also beneficial for me because they also pester me with their questions every time i visit. the offer is way a bit enticing for it’s own good—but everything should be fine.

with a soft sigh and one macaron left on the box (you and zayne were snacking on them as you had your discussion), you spoke again. “you’ve got yourself a deal. you better start wearing that keyring, dr. zayne.”

“i don’t think you should be calling me that when we’re supposed to portray ourselves like a couple.” he remarked.

you choke on your own saliva at his statement. “w-we’ll talk about the other details another day! how does the next time i visit—which i actually promise to do now—sound?” cursing yourself for stammering (but how could you not when he caught you so off guard?), you try your best not to embarrass yourself any further. “that sounds good.”

as the last macaron on the box you served gets consumed, you find yourself securing a peculiar deal with a certain heart surgeon.

THREE: AS SOUR AS A BITE OF STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE MELTING ON YOUR TONGUE.

staying true to your promise, you visited zayne a few days after his visit to your bakery. you had the same keyring wrapped around your ring finger, hoping to find zayne the same. “are you busy?”

he glances at you from his monitor and you notice that his shoulders relax again when he realizes it was you in the doorway. “what pastry do you have in store for me this time?” he asks you as you approach to have yourself a seat on the small couch.

“sadly there’s no pastry today; i accidentally forgot to grab one from the bakery’s fridge before i left but next time i’ll bring you some strawberry shortcake!”

“i’ll take note of that.”

zayne then continues to speak. “about where we stopped our discussion last time... would it be okay with you to completely drop with the formalities in general? you don’t have to call me dr. zayne, especially when we’re in the hospital.”

“what do i call you then?”

“zayne would be just fine. almost no one calls me that here.”

“zayne, huh… zayne, zayne… zayne.” you repeat his name to get yourself used to it. “alright then, doct—i mean, zayne.”

he nods at you in acknowledgement as you shift your gaze at his dominant hand. surely enough, you saw that keyring on his finger. “i see you’re wearing the keyring. did it work so far?” you ask him. “actually, yes, it did. the introductions lessened and i found myself at peace with most of my appointments today.”

“so my plan does work. huh, i never would’ve thought.” zayne takes this as an opportunity to reply. “how about you? did your keyring work?” 

“not yet, i guess? when i arrived, yvonne told me that your appointments and checkups were done for the day. so i didn’t really encounter any of your patients today. maybe next time.”

-

zayne visited your bakery during the weekend again. although unfortunately, you weren’t there. one of your employees said that you were busy with an errand today so zayne just got a slice of yet another blueberry cheesecake on the go and quickly made his leave.

(he doesn’t see why he would stay when he isn’t sure of what time you’d return.)

-

the next time you and zayne saw each other, you had forgotten to bring the strawberry shortcake you told him back then. but what did happen is that you encountered a few familiar patients of zayne’s. they were all women who looked like they’re in their mid-sixties in a group of three. they were chatting nearby the entrance to zayne’s office when they spotted you.

and apparently, one of them recognized you.

“hello, dear. you’re the one who brings dr. zayne snacks, right? i remember seeing you here before.” she says, approaching you. “ah, yes! that would be me.” you let out a soft chuckle at her. “how kind of you to do so! are you perhaps his girlfriend?” another woman asks. the woman who approached you (who introduced herself as violet), shushes her friend. “don’t throw sudden questions at the lady! sorry about her, dear.”

the third woman in their group suddenly perks up and points at your hand. “look violet, her ring looks familiar... where have i seen it before, i wonder?” as soon as she said that, all three of the women’s attention was now all on your hand with the keyring on it. 

“isn’t that like the ring on dr. zayne’s hand?”

there was then a moment of silence before they all realized what that question meant. 

after escaping the clutches of their neverending queries (that you tried to answer as much as you could, and you never could’ve escaped without yvonne’s help of escorting them out), you finally got to knock on zayne’s office.

“come in.” his voice sounds muffled through the door.

once you settle down yourself inside, you let out a huge and relieved sigh. “was there a commotion outside? i heard multiple voices through the door, one of them being yours.” zayne asks.

“ah, well it turns out that your patients are really observant. did you know i had to make up some fake story on the spot of how we met?”

“is that so? do you mind telling me what this story is? they might ask about it the next time they come for a checkup.” he replies. 

the actual story of how you and zayne met wasn’t really that far off from the one you told the small group of old ladies. 

(it was dusk when you encountered zayne on the sidewalk; you accidentally bumped into him and he noticed you were seemingly in a rush. “oh my god, i’m so sorry! i wasn’t looking where i was running.” zayne waves his hand dismissively. “it’s alright, are you hurt?” 

“not at all—” you checked the time with your wrist watch. “crap! uhm, excuse me, sir. do you know if there’s a flower shop nearby here? i’m in a terrible need of dried flowers at the moment.” you ask him.

zayne thought about it for a moment, trying to recall if there is one. he then tells you the directions to the flower shop he has seen in the area and you immediately thanked him. “thank you, thank you so much! feel free to drop by the cozy oven. my treat for helping me! thank you again, kind sir!” you say before running off in the direction he told you.

that was first time you met him and you were sure that was also the first time he met you.

but what if it isn’t?)

“oh, you know, i just told them some silly old cliche where i bumped into you while holding two bouquets of flowers and decided to treat you to some coffee as an apology. nothing that out of the ordinary, really.”

“noted. they’ll probably ask me about which bouquet it was next time.” this time it was his turn to let out a sigh.

“oh yeah! one of my staff members said you visited the bakery last weekend. sorry, i was busy that time. my friend ordered a cake for this event and i was also invited to it so i had to leave the job of handling the bakery to my employees.” you told him. “it’s alright, don’t fret.”

that day ended with zayne offering you a ride home.

-

the next few times you and zayne were together after that, you swear something was changing.

you never thought zayne could be the touchy type; he grabs ahold of your hand, going as far as interlocking your fingers together. hell, he even puts his hand on your waist when you’re walking in public.

you knew what you were getting into when you both agreed on that deal. but it’s just so... strange. scary, if you think about it.

how is he so good at this? no, more like—

why does it feel so real?

zayne is an attractive man, and that was certainly a fact. smart, rich, handsome, and well-mannered—he’s even soft spoken for goodness sake! that man has got it all, which is no wonder why some of his patients would want to set up their daughter with him. any woman would be lucky to experience what it’s like to be loved by him.

but is this what it feels like?

perhaps.

that was all you could say—after all, this is all just a fake setup so you both could shoo away his patients.

yet if it was all fake, why were your faces suddenly so close to one another right now? your lips were close to brushing against each other; one small nudge and you’d find out what it was like to kiss zayne.

the sudden phone ring echoing somewhere in the room snaps the both of you out of it.

as you both pull away out of surprise, zayne picks up the phone. “this is zayne speaking.” he says.

you just sat there on his couch, wondering many things.

it’s just a fake stunt. don’t get sidetracked, (y/n).

but why is it that whenever you remind yourself that it is fake, an uncertain pang hits your chest? you never could tell zayne this; he might think you suddenly have a heart condition and be concerned (and you wouldn’t be surprised because he is someone who is under cardiology).

this could be nothing. no, scratch that; it is nothing. zayne is an impossible man to reach, and he is only a friend to you.

nothing more, nothing less.

-

the next time you visited zayne at akso hospital, you finally had a slice of strawberry shortcake stored safely in a box for him.

you were still distracted by the time you two almost kissed, but you couldn’t let zayne know that for obvious reasons.

at this point in your fake dating plan, his patients are all convinced that you both are together, finding it cute and squealing in awe when you see each other in the hallway where his office is located. you were surprised at how well you and zayne were pulling this off. 

“special delivery for dr. zayne?” you say, peeking through the door to check if he’s busy. “and what did i order this time?” he asks back. you take that as your cue to step inside. “one slice of a promised and long overdue strawberry shortcake!” you told him, setting down the small box and another plastic fork on top of the box.

“about time you remembered.” he says, taking the fork and opening the box. the familiar scent of strawberry shortcake then circulates around the two of you, which made zayne take a bite almost immediately. “are you planning on visiting the bakery this weekend?” you then ask him.

zayne swallows before he speaks. “i have thought about it, yes. and i was actually planning to ask you about your weekend plans today actually.”

“oh? why?”

“i was just wondering if you’d like to make plans with me since i’m usually off-duty during weekends.”

you become a bit awkward as soon as zayne says that. and zayne, being as observant as ever, obviously noticed it. “is there something wrong? it’s okay if you’re busy.” you waved your hands at him, “no, no! it’s not like that. well, kinda i guess? ugh, it’s just that…”

“i may or may not have agreed to go on a blind date this weekend.”

if zayne hadn’t listened that carefully, he would’ve missed it. but no, he caught every single word that slipped out of you. the sour taste of the sliced strawberry, along with the spongy texture of the cake, suddenly felt like sand in zayne’s mouth. and as ironic as that, he suddenly feels iffy as soon as you say that—like he was also sour. “is that so… that’s alright. you should enjoy your plans instead.”

“wait. you’re not mad?”

am i mad? zayne mentally asked himself. he doesn’t think he is, but he does somewhat feel disturbed by the idea of you going on a date with another man, and that doesn’t feel right to him either. “i’m not. why would i be mad?” a lie.

you stiffen at your seat, trying to come up with an explanation. that question just slipped off of your tongue; you didn’t mean to ask that. “well, uhm.. you know, because we’re in this fake dating thingy, i just thought it would be weird to you if i were to go see someone else and all that, yeah.”

“you said it yourself; this is all fake. so i’m not stopping you if you want to do that.”

ouch? why does his confirmation that it’s nothing serious get a kick to it? you thought. “really? okay then, thanks for letting me know.” 

zayne couldn’t shake off the sourness of the strawberry from his tongue. and the thing is—the strawberries that you use for your products aren’t even that sour. it was more sweet than sour in the first place. so why? why can’t he get the sourness off?

why does he suddenly feel so bitter at the thought of you seeing someone else?

the rest of the hour felt a bit suffocating after that.

FOUR: AS BLAND AS MISSING THE DELECTABLE TASTE OF YOUR COMPANY.

when the weekend rolled around, zayne didn’t visit your bakery. he didn’t find a need to because you weren’t there. he wasn’t close to your staff and he doesn’t really want to get close to them. and zayne isn’t that close with a lot of people in general, so he decided to spend his weekend at home.

he thinks about the conversation he had with you when you brought up the topic of having a blind date scheduled today.

and he still feels sour about that. he doesn’t know why. 

then he suddenly remembers the one time when he was so close to feeling your lips on his. zayne hoped that he wasn’t obvious but this moment had perhaps made him short circuit. your face was so close—he could take every little detail of your features with the distance.

but you just had to have this blind date today.

zayne feels even more sour after that.

he was a doctor, yes, but he obviously isn’t an expert in psychology or emotions. so as he unlocks his phone, he opens the web browser installed and types in the search bar.

now, jealousy was a foreign concept for zayne. 

he stares blankly at the results his search shows him, a part of him refusing to believe that what he was feeling was jealousy and the rational part of him telling himself that if this isn’t it, what else could it be?

but another question puts him in a dilemma. why is he even jealous in the first place? 

of course you can go see other people. he doesn’t have the right to be mad about that. zayne didn’t own you, and you didn’t own zayne. if he were in your position, you’d just let him go on that blind date.

yet the idea of you falling in love with another makes him uneasy.

oh.

oh.

zayne wasn’t stupid. he didn’t need to drown himself in any more thoughts on this matter to realize what was happening to him.

he was falling.

falling for you, to be specific.

and there’s nothing that could help him.

-

being forced into a blind date never goes well. and you swore that you'd strangle your friend who forced you into this in the first place.

“so, what do you do for a living?” your date asks before sipping from his glass of red wine. “oh, i’m a baker. i run a bakery, actually. it’s located nearby akso hospital.” 

“is that so? what do you usually bake?”

“i bake all sorts of things! from cakes to macarons—“ you pause when you say macarons. you suddenly recall the day when you asked zayne to taste test your new macaron flavor. you cleared your throat to regain composure.

“sorry about that; something just came to mind. but like i said, i bake a whole lot of cakes and pastries. i like to experiment with new flavors, you see. what about you?”

“oh, i’m currently a resident at akso hospital actually!” the man before you says. “really? under which department?” you ask him. “cardiology. i always found the heart a fascinating thing to study.”

you tried to hold yourself back from choking on your wine. “c-cardiology, you say…?” hearing the term come out of your date’s mouth has something uncomfortable bubbling up inside of you. your mind finds itself drifting back to zayne—

what am i even thinking? get a grip (y/n)! you’re on a date for fuck’s sake!

“mhm. one of my mentors is really nice, a bit cold but i know he’s just really like that. his name is dr. zayne, by the way.” and as if the universe is mocking you right now, your date just had to say that his mentor was zayne of all people.

“i think i’ve heard of him once or twice, yeah. he’s a good heart surgeon, right?”

as time seemed to pass by, you could feel yourself feeling more distracted. when the waiter came to ask if you’d like any dessert, your mind immediately thought of zayne.

while looking through the dessert menu, you wondered if zayne would like what this restaurant is offering. what would zayne’s opinion be on this? 

and your date continues to speak, the sole fact that he’s a resident under zayne, was enough to sidetrack your mind towards him. 

zayne, zayne, zayne. this whole date has done nothing but remind you of the doctor.

by the time the date was over, you entered the door to your apartment complex (which is located above your bakery) and slid against the door as soon as you closed it.

removing your heels as you were on the floor, you let out a sigh. “what the fuck is going on with me tonight?” you asked no one in particular.

the date wasn’t even bad but nothing about it felt right for you. like there was something clearly wrong with the whole principle of you going on a blind date in the first place but you didn’t know what it was.

you try to recall what happened before the blind date happened, trying to see if something would have triggered your current state.

your recollection brings you to the time you told zayne about the blind date a few days ago. 

something felt off about him when you dropped the bomb on him that time. it’s as if something shifted in the air when you revealed your plans for the weekend to him.

“oh, god. you have got to be kidding me.” you facepalmed when the realization dawned upon you.

your thoughts were running. how could’ve i been so stupid? it was written all over my face in the first place! i like zayne. holy shit i actually—

but it all stops there when you then realize what you just said. 

-

you didn’t visit zayne after your blind date. and when he visits your bakery, you hide yourself from him in the kitchen (and you also told your employees to not spill a word about your actual whereabouts, making them form excuses on what you’re up to). 

simply to say, you were avoiding zayne.

it scared you. you didn’t know what to do with your new feelings, especially when the whole fake dating thing was still ongoing for the both of you. 

how can you keep faking it all up when everything just feels so real? when you couldn’t help but wonder if you’re still friends after everything you’ve done?

zayne: Are you going to visit today?

zayne: I miss getting my special delivery.

you stared at his message, trying to process it. why did he have to say it like that? what does he mean by that? you thought.

(y/n): sorry, i can’t. 

(y/n): i need to prioritize some cake orders for now. maybe next time.

zayne: Oh, alright then.

you know full well that there most probably won’t be a next time. you’ll just keep denying and deflecting as much as you can—and as long as you can.

however, zayne knew you were avoiding him and he most definitely didn’t need to be a genius to notice that. 

but he doesn’t know why. was it something that he did? were you alright? perhaps you haven’t been feeling well as of late. were you overworking yourself lately?

zayne thinks about the time you two almost kissed again. maybe he should’ve gone for it. maybe he shouldn’t have answered that goddamn phone call. maybe—

maybe he shouldn’t have let you go on that blind date.

your phone vibrates against the pocket of your apron. you pull it out to check the notification and go blank at the sender.

zayne: Have you been well?

zayne: We haven’t seen each other lately.

his clinic hours are not the same as of late. zayne got so used to you visiting him at akso—to seeing you in general—that it just feels... bland now that you’re not present.

zayne misses you. and he wonders if you miss him too.

FIVE: AS SWEET AS KNOWING THAT I WASN’T TOO LATE.

(before you bumped into zayne on the sidewalk, you two had actually met.

once in a cafe, and once in the grocery store... zayne had noticed that since you two lived in the same community, it was bound that you’d encounter each other a lot—although you don’t really seem to notice him.

when zayne met you in the grocery store, the first thing that he noticed about you was that your shopping cart was halfway filled with baking ingredients. there were at least three (or was it four?) dozen of eggs stacked, two packs of all-purpose flour, a small bottle of sprinkles (both the colorful and chocolate ones), and a whole lot more.

at first glance, any other person would ignore you. zayne would be one of them—he had no clue why he noticed you and your shopping cart. he was only in the aisle because it’s the way to where the bread was located.

that was the first time zayne sees you.

the second time he saw you, zayne encountered you in a cafe this time. weeks passed since he saw you while he was out for groceries and you had papers sprawled all over the small table in front of you. zayne didn’t really get a good look at them but he assumed that it was all sorts of cake design from the single glance he got to have.

wedding cakes, birthday cakes, anniversary cakes. there were a whole bunch of designs. perhaps you baked for a living.

again, at first glance, any other person would ignore you. and zayne would still be one of them—though would this become a lie because isn’t it strange that it has happened twice? not like there’s anything bad with noticing you. it’s just... out of his character, per se.

the third time zayne meets you, it was the time you also recall—the encounter on the sidewalk. now, what were the chances that zayne would meet you there that late afternoon? he didn’t know. 

and with that small conversation between the two of you happening, zayne’s assumption was correct. the baking ingredients, the cake designs, and now you telling him to visit your bakery—

maybe he should visit the cozy oven during the weekend.)

around three weeks have passed since you started ignoring him. you were surprised at how well you were doing so far. not like it was hard doing so. the real challenge was to ignore his texts and make yourself reply late. 

and when he visits the bakery, which is what’s going on right now.

it was almost nine in the evening when you finished closing up your bakery. you heard footsteps getting louder, signaling that someone is walking towards you. 

“there you are.” you knew that voice anywhere.

“zayne? what are you doing here at this hour?” you ask him out of surprise. “well, a certain someone seems to be hiding from me, so i thought it was time to change my strategy and do a surprise attack. it looks like it worked.”

“ah. sorry about that... work has been a bit busy. you know?” you take in zayne’s appearance before you, eyes slightly widening at the keyring that is still on his finger.

(how ironic because you were also wearing yours at the moment. your excuse would be “it was out of pure habit.”)

“so busy that even when i visit you hide yourself from me?”

he got you there. “i—no, no! it’s just that—“ zayne cuts you off with another question. “did i do something wrong?”

“what?”

“you heard me. (y/n), did i do something wrong? i understand that you’ve been busy but something feels different. like there’s something more to it than just you being busy.” he then says. why does he have to be always so observant?

the guilt of your decisions as of late started to eat you up inside. “i… i don’t know.”

“you don’t know?” zayne asks again.

“i mean, it’s not like i literally don’t know but it’s just... did we even do the right thing? you know, fake date and all of that.”

zayne could feel the unease creeping up on him with your question. “the plan worked, did it not?”

“no, zayne. what i mean is that did we do the right thing with fake dating in the first place? because for the love of god, we almost kissed! and—and we’re both old enough to realize that friends don’t just... kiss.”

“is this about your blind date a few weeks ago?” you don’t know what he means by that. because you never met up again with that blind date, telling him that as much as it was nice to know him, you’re not really interested in giving romance a whirl for now. 

you didn’t know what to answer to that. “so it is.” he then says. you wanted to say no, but no words came out of you. it was as if your lips felt like they were sewn closed. “i guess i was too late then.”

too late?

“wait—what do you mean too late?”

zayne’s look in his eyes confused you. you couldn’t decipher the emotions that were present in his gaze. “aren’t you still seeing your blind date nowadays?”

then it all made sense to you.

zayne thinks the reason you started avoiding him was probably because he thought you hit it off with your blind date. before you could answer his question, he speaks again. “to be honest with you, recently, especially during your absence, i have come to the realization that i like you, (y/n).”

wait. what?

too speechless to cut in, he continues. “i felt off when you first said that you agreed to that blind date of yours. i just brushed it off back then but later i realized that it was because i was jealous. i soon regretted not doing anything about it—and when you started ignoring me, i couldn’t help but think that maybe you didn’t want to visit me anymore in my office as a sign of respect to your new lover.” in other words, i missed you.

you try to process everything that he just came clean about. but there is only one highlight in everything he said—he likes you. zayne likes you.

and you like him too.

“first of all, i’m really sorry for ignoring you, zayne. i honestly only did it out of fear because i recently realized that i like you too.” zayne was about to speak up when you raised a hand to shush him. “let me finish first. i never met with my blind date again after our first meeting. i told him that i kindly told him that i didn’t want to try romance for now—though that was partially a lie because i only find myself wanting to try romance out with you.”

zayne also only got one highlight out of that—you like him too. that’s all that matters to him.

“so i wasn’t too late?” he then asks.

you take a few steps closer to him. “no, zayne. you’re just in time.”  zayne’s hands find themselves on your waist. “then can i kiss you?” you shoot him a playful glare. “are you sure a phone call isn’t going to interrupt us this time?” you then say, arms wrapping themselves around his neck.

“i’m sure.”

“then you can.”

and without hesitation, zayne leans in to capture your lips with his. he could feel you smiling in the kiss, and zayne savors the faint taste of your lippie—not minding that it might have smudged on his lips now.

when you both pulled away, you couldn’t help but giggle. zayne’s lips were covered in some of your tinted lip gloss. you reach out a hand to smudge it away before pecking him a quick kiss to his nose and asking him, “do you want to come inside? i have a new macaron flavor for you to taste test.”

“is that so? what is it this time?” he replies, hands not leaving your waist.

“salted caramel! but not the ones that are sweet; i made sure that this one actually has a salty kick to it!”

zayne definitely has a sweet tooth.

yet there’s nothing more sweet than knowing that you like him too.

[captain-hawks]

yakuza!kuroo, 18+ (fingering, oral sex f!receiving)

it’s your wedding night, and kuroo is weak.

weak after months of watching you yearn for his affection, of watching your hopeful expression morph into something painfully resigned (it feels like a gash behind his ribcage).

he thinks back to the night he took your father aside. he didn’t even know you, yet he found himself pleading with your father not broker a deal with nohebi. not to marry you off to fucking daishou suguru.

“he’ll ruin her,” kuroo bit out, because he knows what happened to daishou’s last wife (he shudders at the memory of it).

the thought of another woman going through that makes him sick to his stomach.

“i have no other choice to keep her safe right now,” your father stared at him, blunt and unapologetic. “you know who i am, what that entails.”

marriage was such a foreign concept to kuroo at the time, he’d never considered it for any sort of arrangement, let alone out of love. and yet—

“i’ll marry her.”

your father had warned him not to get attached. the engagement, the marriage—it’s all meant to be temporary. until things in tokyo cool down or your father decides to whisk you off somewhere else entirely.

you’re with kuroo for nekoma’s protection.

you don’t know this, of course. that kuroo’s been keeping you at arm’s length because he doesn’t want to hurt you when this charade crumbles. it’s better for you to hate him from the start.

(and really, he doesn’t trust himself to be able to let you go back to your father once he’s truly had you. once you’re really his.)

but it’s your wedding night.

and kuroo tetsurou has become a weak, weak man.

(weak for you.)

“do you want help?”

kuroo pauses in front of your bedroom, door left slightly ajar, gaze falling to where you’re currently struggling to undo the straps of your heels.

you blink at him several times, and he can’t blame you for being surprised. he’s never set foot in your bedroom, after all (not counting the night he brought you home after you were abducted—when he wouldn’t let anyone else touch you as he carried you in his arms to your bed).

but you eventually nod, collapsing back onto your mattress in a huff.

you changed into a short, thin, white silky dress for the latter half of the evening, one that’s been mercilessly eating away at the frayed edges of kuroo’s wavering self-control. and now your pretty, smooth thighs are on full display as the skirt unapologetically rides up with the position that you’re in.

kuroo inhales slowly before coming to kneel between your legs, trying not to revel in the way he feels you immediately react to the feeling of his hands wrapping around your ankles.

he doesn’t mean to do it, doesn’t mean to run the pad of his thumb over the arch of your foot (doesn’t mean to forget to breathe as he listens to your answering sharp intake of breath).

but kuroo is weak, weak for you. weak for his wife.

and when his heat of his lips finds your ankle, he can’t bring himself to care about anything else but the way you whimper his name.

“kuroo.”

he glances up at you, finds you sitting up halfway on your elbows staring at him with an expression that has his pants tightening almost painfully against the swell of his cock.

“i think we can agree it’s tetsurou now, no?” he asks before leaning back in to press a longer, hotter open-mouthed kiss to your knee.

your fingers bunch in the sheets.

“tetsurou,” you gasp.

kuroo feels something zip down his spine at the sound of those syllables dancing off of your tongue. and it’s a little terrifying, the sudden free fall he finds himself in—this near-loss of control.

because in this moment, kuroo knows he’d do anything to hear that sound again.

and he knows that despite all of the distance he’s wedged between the two of you, despite the fact that that this is supposed to be business and you were never really meant to be his—

kuroo knows now that if someone wants to take you away from him, they’re going to have to kill him first.

he wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you to the edge of the mattress, slowly sliding up the skirt of your dress as he greedily kisses his way up the inside of your thighs.

you’re so fucking sensitive beneath his touch he thinks he’s going to lose his mind.

your panties are the same blood red shade as the tie he wore today. his cock aches at the revelation. he runs a careful finger over the lace, staring up at you from where he’s still kneeling between your spread legs.

“can i touch you?” he asks, voice a little hoarse.

you have to smother a laugh with your hand, borderline hysterical over the implication that there’s any universe where you’d deny him. kuroo fights the urge to palm his dick through his pants as you say “yes” and “please.”

the lace tickles his lips as kuroo mouths at your cunt through your panties, teasing you until the material’s wholly soaked through with his spit and your arousal as you unconsciously bury your fingers in his hair and beg him for more.

you loosen your grip when he stops sucking at your clothed pussy, eyes widening a little as you realize you were pulling his hair.

“sorry,” you breathe out.

kuroo grins, butting his head against your hovering hand, “no, i like it.”

hooking a finger in your panties and tugging them aside, he lets his teeth press into his lower lip as he stares at the messy slick dripping from your folds.

for him.

he swipes his thumb up and down the length of your slit, just barely skirting the swollen, waiting bundle of nerves at your apex.

“you’re so wet,” he murmurs, feeling the messy smear of precum steadily soaking into his pants while you buck your hips into his touch.

kuroo’s never had the pleasure of coming untouched.

but he thinks he could when he slides a finger into your soaking wet cunt and feels the way your creamy walls tighten around him.

he thinks that the sound of you moaning his name alone could milk his cock dry as he fucks you with one finger until you’re begging for two, pulling his hair and cupping his face in a desperate frenzy.

and then kuroo slides off your panties and buries his tongue in your cunt, and he feels just as gone as you sound and feel while you’re wildly bucking into his touch, choking out a sob as a wet spray squirts out of you while when he sends you tumbling over the edge of your climax.

(he groans against your pussy as he feels his cock finally twitching and pulsing hot and thick in his boxers.)

the two of you sit there for minutes afterward, you on the bed and him kneeling on the floor before you, both of you struggling to catch your breath. to make sense of what just happened.

and something inside of kuroo cracks open at the shuttered look of rejection that begins to sink across your face when he goes to stand up, takes a step away.

you don’t try to stop him.

but he leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple as he murmurs, “i’m just getting a towel to clean you up.”

you look up at him, lips parting slightly in surprise.

“i’m not leaving,” he assures you, slowly stroking the curve of your jaw.

[voitier]

𝒾𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽... your angel of a boyfriend always respected your wishes and boundaries. but what happens when you feel your resolutions slowly crumble to the ground?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈... [smut!] teasing, making out, mentions of dry humping, fingering, reader's first time, softdom!gguk × inexperienced!reader, gentle sex, mentions of discomfort during penetration.

▸ 𝓔𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮

▸ 𝔀.𝓬: 2𝓴 +

There were certain things you absolutely loved about your boyfriend, like the way his eyes lit up in excitement when you cooked him his favourite meal, or the way his natural non-toxic masculine energy immediately put you at ease, making you slide into your soft feminine energy naturally. This was probably one of the first things you noticed even before you got together, slowly becoming aware of how well you fit into a balanced dynamic that you both felt comfortable in.

But, most of all, you loved the way he never pushed you to do things you weren't keen on doing, never made you feel like you had to something for him "because he said so", never forced anything. Always treated you so well, so gently, so lovingly. He held you at night tight enough like he was afraid you would slip from his arms, but also so delicately like he was scared he could break you if he made a tiny mistake, the same way glass shatters to the ground if you're not careful enough.

So it shouldn't have been a surprise when you told him you weren't ready to have sex just yet, tears striking down your face in fear he would leave you right then and there, and he didn't even appear to be annoyed by that. If anything, he ran you a warm bubble bath, hugging you from behind while cuddling you and whispering sweet nothings to reassure you that no, he wouldn't leave you for that and yes, he would wait as long as you needed. 

"Thank you," you had whispered, sniffling softly as the sobs finally subdued. Jungkook gathered the bubbles in the palm of his hand, blowing them in your face. His expression visibly relaxed as you giggled, wiping the scented bubbles that landed on the tip of your nose. 

"Princess, I don't want you to feel pressured about doing anything with me, got that? I could never leave you, I love you too much. Also, your cute little face got me wrapped around your pinky."

A few months had passed from that moment, and he had kept his promise. This doesn’t mean that you never shared moments of intimacy, but rather that you both opted for things that you liked and were comfortable in, like grinding while making out, or giving and receiving oral. And you always felt so at ease, so sure that he would never take advantage of you in any way or form.

But as time went on, you felt your resolutions slowly crumble to the ground: it all started with following him on set, watching mesmerized as he posed for the camera. He was magnificent in his expressions, in his demeanor, in the way he rocked the outfits given by the CK company. He was confident, alluring, his muscles moving in a way that made you feel tingly all over. His eyes caught yours, crouched on the chair behind the camera, trying to be invisible to the eyes of all the professionals that hurriedly walked around you. You watched as a weird glint sparkled in his eyes, his lips curling in a knowing smirk briefly before he snapped back into character, leaving you a flustered, breathless mess. You weren’t entirely sure, but after that it looked like he posed even sexier for the camera, manipulating his body so that it could allure you in the same way a siren’s song allures pirates before devouring them. and god, did it work…

You shifted around uncomfortably, fiddling with your phone, looking around at anything to tear your eyes from your boyfriend, trying to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs. and Jungkook took notice of every effort you made to hide your need, quite amused by it all. Soon after, the director called for the end of the day, screaming loud enough for everyone to hear “good job, guys, see you tomorrow!”, clapping his hands and stopping by the photographer to discuss something about the lightning of some photos. 

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, stretching his body to relax his tensed limbs before making his way to you, chuckling darkly when he noticed you acting like you weren’t paying any attention to him. he leaned over you, trapping you between his arms as his lips hovered your ear. “What's wrong, princess?” he purred, nibbling softly your earlobe. Your breath struck in your throat at his sultry tone, and you prayed he couldn’t hear your heart thrumming in your chest, or your hands shaking by your side. You felt like you were floating in a bubble where nothing mattered aside from his presence, and his musky cologne that clouded your senses and made your head dizzy. You closed your eyes breathing it in, parting your lips slightly to let out a soft breath.

Jungkook hummed pleased at your responsiveness, cupping your jaw with his warm hand. He traced your bottom lip with his thumb, staring at it almost as if hypnotised by his own action, pulling it down softly before murmuring “let’s go home, princess”, a tinge of urgency lacing his words. 

The drive home was probably the quickest you’ve ever been in, with Jungkook’s foot slamming the pedal to the ground, one hand grabbing possessively your thigh and fingers touching where you most need him with featherlight pressure. As soon as the car pulled into the driveway Jungkook was quick to pick you up and bring you inside, pushing your back against the door as soon as it closed behind you. 

His lips immediately found yours, pulling you into a desperate kiss. He gently pulled your hair at the back of your neck, angling your face better in order to deepen the kiss. You moaned, the sound swallowed by your boyfriend’s lips, hands tugging at his shirt to take it off. Jungkook pulled back slightly, groaning at the sight of your swollen red lips and hooded eyes. “Bedroom?” he asked, throwing his shirt on the ground.

“Yes, please” you whispered, following him around the house as more kissing and more stripping occurred, ending up in the bedroom already half naked and even more worked up than before. You wiggled out of the shirt that covered your chest and your panties-clad bottom, straddling your boyfriend’s lap as he sat against the headboard.

“C’mon, princess, you know what to do” he said, hands holding your thighs firmly while you rocked back and forth, whimpering as his still clothed boner provided the perfect friction against your aching clit. “Want… more,” you cried out, hips rutting desperately. Jungkook’s lips latched on your skin, sucking deep purple spots all over your neck and collarbones. “Yeah?” he asked against your flesh, “what is it that you want, princess?”

Your cheeks burned at the embarrassment, yet it didn’t stop you from whimpering “want you inside me”. You felt your boyfriend’s body tense beneath you, his kissing stopping on the spot. His hand cupped your jaw, keeping you in place as his eyes locked with yours. “What did you say, princess?”

If possible, you felt your whole body catch on fire just from his tone alone, trying to divert your gaze as you repeated shyly “want… want you inside me. Please”. You swore you felt his cock throbbing at your words, his pupils completely blown out in lust. The fingers that held your jaw twitched briefly before he asked “you’re sure, princess?”, struggling to hide the restraint in his voice. You nodded, rocking your hips tentatively to spur him on.  

He bit his lip, trying to hold back the smile that threatened to break over his face. He failed at that, though, and a happy giggle escaped his lips as he switched your position, letting you fall on the soft pillows, your back landing on the mattress. He showered your face in excited kisses before he finally calmed down, a serious expression on his face. “Promise you’ll tell me if I'm hurting you or if you want to stop”. You smiled, nodding your head. “Pinky promise”. And just like that he was on you again, reaching a hand behind your back to flick your bra off your chest, sighing in pleasure once he cupped your breast in his hand, gently rolling your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“Always looking so pretty,” he purred, reaching a hand down to unzip his pants, trying to take some pressure off his painfully hard member. He groaned, muttering a small “fuck,” before lowering his head on your torso, kissing his way down all the way to your panties. He pressed a hand on your thigh, keeping you spread over in front of his eyes. He smirked pleased at the wet patch on the baby blue fabric of your thong, rubbing his thumb up and down your clothed slit, then pressing his finger on your clit. “Oh fuck- please, Kook,” you moaned, bucking your hips up to gain some more friction. 

“Patience, princess,” he whispered, blowing softly on your clothed sex. You gasped at the feeling, trying to press your thighs back together, but you were stopped by Jungkook’s firm grasp that pinned you to the bed. “How sensitive,” he chuckled, teasingly licking a stripe up the drenched fabric. You whimpered, a string of pleas falling repeatedly from your plush lips as you grew progressively more desperate for more.

“Oh I know, I know, princess,” he cooed, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulling them down, throwing them somewhere on the floor. “Gonna make you feel so nice,” he continued, stopping to admire your glistening folds, all wet and leaking just for him. He ran his pointer finger between your folds, gathering your moisture before slowly slipping the finger in. 

“Oh-” you gasped, closing your eyes as Jungkook’s finger stroked your walls, curling it just right. “Gonna put another one in,” he murmured, slipping another finger in. A loud moan escaped your lips, spurring your boyfriend to move in quicker and deeper movements, his fingers hitting repeatedly your g-spot almost as if in a quest to let you release as many sounds as possible. Slick sounds and ragged breaths filled the room, your mind clouding into a hazy state. The bands in your stomach threatened to snap at any moment now, your walls fluttering around Jungkook’s fingers.

Said man, of course, wanted to toy with you a little longer before giving you the relief you needed, and that’s why he immediately pulled his fingers out, chucking darkly at your disappointed whines. He slipped the same two fingers in his mouth, moaning around them as your juices dripped on his tongue. “Always taste so good,” he groaned, leaning down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “Think you’re ready for me, princess?”

You nodded eagerly, though you couldn’t hide the nervousness pricking at the back of your neck. “Can you just… be gentle? Like, a lot? Pretty please”.

“Of course, princess, you don’t even have to ask. We’re gonna take it nice and slow, yeah?” of course there was no doubt that Jungkook already planned on taking it easy with you, nevertheless the confirmation was much needed for you, helping your nerves ease even a tiny bit. 

The man sat back on his knees, taking off his pants and briefs in one go. Even though it wasn’t the first time you had seen him completely naked, you couldn’t help but stare at him mesmerised. He was just that good looking, his body built the same way the greeks carved their most beloved statues. Your mouth ran dry at the sight, and your hands itched to explore every inch of flesh. 

Jungkook leaned back down, caging your head between his arms. He stroked your cheek lovingly, kissing you softly before asking “Do you want me to put a condom on?”

You shook your head, whispering “I’m still on the pill, it’s fine. Wanna feel you raw”. Your boyfriend closed his eyes at the confession, your desire of feeling him bare both arousing and touching. “Okay,” his hand reached between your bodies, holding his member in a firm grasp as he ran his almost purplish tip over your folds, gathering your wetness. 

“Oh god,” you choked out, your walls clenching around nothing. Finally, Jungkook aligned his cock with your entrance, looking at your face one last time before slowly pushing it in, holding you closer to his chest as you gasped in discomfort. “Kook…ngh, wait…”

“I got you, princess,” he cooed, stopping his motion immediately. He stroked your hair, and he didn’t even wince when you bit his bicep to ignore the discomfort between your hips. “‘s alright, love. I promise it’s gonna feel nice really soon, hold tight for me”.

You nodded, taking a shaky breath in before your boyfriend pushed a couple more inches or so inside you, settling deep before he stilled his movements, waiting for you to give him permission to do anything. Despite the uncomfortable sensation, you couldn’t ignore how full you felt and how good it felt to have him nestled inside your walls completely bare, allowing you to feel even the littlest throb. Meanwhile, your angel of a boyfriend did everything in his hold to distract you, from kissing your lips to nibbling your earlobe, wanting you to feel good yet feeling guilty because he couldn’t do anything to let the pain subside faster.

“Mmh- Kook… I think you can move now,” you croaked out, catching Jungkook’s attention. The man whispered a soft “okay,” then locked your lips in a slow and passionate kiss as he began moving, pulling out almost entirely before pushing back in, over and over again. Soon, you whimpers of discomfort turned into moans of pleasure, and Jungkook followed you by example. Noises of skin slapping skin echoed in the bedroom, almost harmonising with your moans and grunts. 

“Princess… can I- fuck, can I go faster?” you nodded again, throwing your head against the pillows as Jungkook’s hips picked up their pace, almost snapping against your body. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, jaw hanging low while your boyfriend got drunk on the sight, hissing as he felt himself approaching his orgasm at light’s speed. His hand reached down, toying with your clit to bring you closer to your finish line. However, he almost lost it all when you let out a loud, almost pornographic, moan, your walls sucking him in greedily. 

His brows furrowed in concentration, determined to make you cum before he did. “C’mon, princess, give it to me,” he grunted, applying the right pressure to your clit to make you completely unravel under him, whimpering and shaking as your walls fluttered around his dick. “Fuck!” he exclaimed, pulling out just in time to spill his warm milky white cum on your tummy, decorating your skin in ropes of white. 

He laid beside you with a huff, scanning your body with his eyes to check that everything was alright. He took a strand of hair falling onto your eyes and lovingly pushed it behind your ear, smiling at you softly as you opened your eyes back. “Doing alright, love?”

You hummed, feeling too weak to mutter out anything. Your body still shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you felt your sensitive sex still pulsing uncomfortably, but overall you felt great, and your mind wasn’t running miles per hour for once. 

Jungkook pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight. “C’mon, I’ll run us a bath. You’ve been so good, I love you so much, princess.”

© voitier 2025

⭒ a.n: first fic on here! let me know what you guys think, I'm so excited!

[gguk-n]

18 (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

The garden was beautiful, it was the one they spent most of their time loitering in. Nothing extravagant but very meaningful to the pair who were getting ready to walk down the aisle. The guests were arriving and taking their assigned seats. There was a soft chatter among the crowd. Everyone was smiling and laughing and tearing up. When the time came, everyone took their turn walking down the aisle.

Oscar felt his palm sweat more than they ever did in a F1 car. He had a pip in his step as he walked down the aisle, smiling at the crowd and waiting for his Y/N to walk down the aisle. Everyone until Y/N's turn was a blur to Oscar. When the time came, her father led her down the aisle with tear filled eyes. Y/N had imagined her father crying as he gave her away but she didn't expect a teary eyes, on the verge of tears Oscar. He was wiping his eyes trying to take her in. Her father gave her hand in his and he almost pulled her towards him. "Didn't think you'd cry" she chided. "You look" he gasped trying not to cry anymore.

The officiant spoke some words of wisdom to the pair and waited for them to read out their vows. Y/N pulled out an envelope and started with hers, "Dear Oscar Jack Piastri. I didn't expect to see you cry but you don't fail to surprise me even after so many years" she said making the crowd laugh. "Baby, I am so happy I get to spend the rest of myself with you. If you'd told me when I was in high school that I'd be stuck with you, I'd have laughed it off. But here I am, with you in front of me; grateful to have you with me every step of the way. I promise to love you in every way and I promise to be there for you through all the cliche and important and life altering stuff. You're like the sun in my dark days. You're like the rainbow after the rain shower. You are the first snow in winter. You are everything special yet ordinary in my life. Something I couldn't live without. I hope you, me and Piastri junior can live happily ever after." she paused because of Oscar's shocked face. "I really do love you so much and I have a surprise for you." Y/N finished, pulling another envelope from her envelope, handing it to Oscar. He took it and pulled a couple pictures of ultrasound. Oscar looked at her waiting for a response and she only nodded.

"So, apparently my dear wife here" Oscar said but was cut off by someone in the crowd with a loud,"not yet" Oscar laughed. "Getting there. You, Y/N Piastri really like to keep me on my toes. Can't believe we'll have a tiny us for the rest of our life. Just so everyone knows, Y/N's pregnant." Oscar announced. The crowd burst out into cheers. "Ahm" Oscar cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "If you'll let me get back to my vows. I thought my vows were half decent but I can't top those" Oscar sighed. "I met you here in high school when I was away from home and missed home. You made me feel at home, you made everything better. I hadn't realised it than but I was in love with you from the moment we met. I didn't know what I would do with my life but I knew it would have you in it. I wasn't even 18 but I knew it was you and it had to be you. I am so happy I get to make you mine in the very place we spent most of our time, all the times away from school or our stupid dates or the times you'd chase me around these tress. They've seen us grow and I hope they stand witness to us and our eternal love. Thank you for having me and I hope you'll continue to have me. I love you and mini us and can't wait to meet them" he finished. Y/N was in tears. "You're ruining my make up" she mumbled. Oscar just smiled and softly dabbed the tears away.

After the I dos, the officiant continued, "I, now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride" he said and the pair spared no moment to connect their lips.

[melanchoire]

cld you do giselle and reader roomates who “help” eachother when horny? ^^

cw: ass eating, cunnilingus, fingering, scissoring, 69ning.

i see giselle capable of doing this 😭 you could be sitting on the couch of the living room on any given day of the week in the afternoon, focused on completing homework when she plops down on the couch and says “oh my god i’m so horny right now” 💀

it would take you so by surprise that you would have to turn to look at her hoping that she was joking, but she looks so frustrated and disappointed that you feel like she’s not completely joking...

you know giselle’s reputation, her typical routine of partying all weekend and kissing or sleeping with as many people as possible, and you weren’t against that! she is attractive and has a hot body, you would fall for it too

“can’t you just, i don’t know, text one of your many boyfriends?”

“ugh, sexting isn’t the same as fucking. i want to get laid, not dick pics.”

and well— you loved giselle's honesty, but sometimes it was too much even for you or for her own good

“don’t you want to help me? you know, fuck and stuff.”

“giselle what the fuck—?”

“oh shut up, (y/n).” and she takes the computer off your lap and places it on the coffee table, climbs onto your lap and takes your hands to guide them to her ass 😳 you would have refused if it weren’t for the fact that you were focused on her tits practically pressed against your face and the feeling of her ass in your hands… giselle is hot as hell and you wouldn’t miss the chance to fuck her! honestly, it’s something you’ve wanted for a long time

dry hump with giselle on your lap with a steamy session of messy and sloppy kisses as you two grope each other’s bodies, squeezing tits and pinching nipples through the thin fabric of t-shirts or gropping each other's asses playfully 😵‍💫 both giselle and you wanted this for a long time and it shows in how you never hesitate before your actions

69ning with gigi with her on top 🥴 you always looked at her ass when she wore very short pants or just ones that really accentuated her attributes, so when she made you lay on your back on the couch you almost drooled watching her sit on your face with her pussy on your mouth and her ass lowering onto your face...

moaning into each other’s pussy because you two are fingering each other at a fast pace, massaging her thighs and squeezing the skin between your fingers or spanking her to make her squeal and leave finger marks on her creamy skin🫠 taking advantage to start to tease giselle, parting her buttocks and giving a long and slow one all over her slit, from her clit to her ass, grinning against her when you hear the shaky moan that leaves her lips

giselle can only moan against your pussy, and that’s all for giselle to start enjoying your teasing. stopping the actions of her mouth on you to end up sitting properly on your face, tilting her head and throwing her messy hair over her shoulder as she moves her hips against your mouth and begins to lose herself in pleasure 🥴 but she’s not selfish! she knows you’re just as horny as she is, so being the kind roommate she is, she ends up riding your mouth at the same time as she fingers you and uses her other hand to rub your clit 💕

even when her juices are gushing out of her pussy and soaking your entire face, she's not done yet! but the moment she lifted her ass from your face she directly positioned herself between your legs, aligning her pussy with yours but in a reverse way in which she was turning her back to you because she enjoyed more than she should the sharp spankings that you provided her at all times 🥰

gigi being so exhausted but wanting to continue 😔 laying on her side and lazily making out with you, pressing her sticky, sweaty body against yours and saying “c’mon, (y/n). just one more. i need one more.” looking so attractive with her messy hair and sweaty forehead 😩 giselle being so insatiable that you don’t understand how she can calm her needs when she is alone 😭 but she is lucky that from now on, whenever she has a problem, her roommate will be here willing to help her

[insidekatmind]

My Boyfriend's Father~Cho Sang woo

Wearning: +18,smut,age gap,cheating.

A/n: Inspired by a handcanon I read <3

You look at yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, nervously licking your clothes. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you wait outside the door, shaking your boyfriend’s hand so hard that his knuckles turn white. "Are you afraid?" he asks with a funny smile. "No!" you answer in a whisper, but your voice betrays you. It’s the first time you meet his father and the idea of making a bad impression terrifies you. But when the door opens and your eyes meet his father’s, the breath is stuck in your throat.Cho Sang-woo is... attractive. Much more than you would have imagined. He has a confident, elegant posture, and his piercing gaze pierces you like a sharp blade. He looks at you for a moment too long, then smiles, a light but intense smile.

“We finally know each other,” he says in a deep voice, holding out a hand to you. When you hold her, the warmth of her skin surprises you. “My son was lucky to find you.” You blush slightly, you are alone under the attention of his father, who tilts his head and looks at you with interest. “So, come here, let me see better,” he says, opening his arms to you. You have no choice. You move closer and he hugs you warmly, but it's the way his hands rest on you that makes you hold your breath. One remains on your back, the other slides dangerously down, touching the limit of what is permissible. It's a moment. Maybe it's just you imagining it. Maybe it's an innocent gesture... or maybe not. When you release yourself from the hug, his smile is still there, reassuring, kind, but something indecipherable shines in his eyes.

“Come on, have a seat,” he tells you, with an elegant wave of his hand. You sit next to your boyfriend, but still feel the warmth of Sang-Woo's hand on your body. And when you look up, he's there, looking at you, with a smile that seems to know something you don't even dare think about. You try to concentrate on the conversation, on the words of your boyfriend who tells you something about his work, his day, but your brain is a mess. Every time you try to turn your thoughts away, the memory of Sang-Woo's touch still burns on your skin. You shouldn't feel this way. He's your boyfriend's father. It's wrong. But every time you look up, he's there. He watches you, attentive, with a hint of amusement in his eyes. It makes you feel vulnerable, exposed, and at the same time… alive. “So,” Sang-Woo’s voice creeps into your thoughts, deep and velvety. “How long have you been together?”

“It's been several months already,” your boyfriend replies, taking your hand with a smile. “She's amazing, Dad, really.” Sang-Woo nods, then tilts his head slightly. “Oh, I can see it clearly.” He says it with perfect calm, yet his voice has something insinuating, almost provocative. You seem to feel it glide across your skin like an invisible touch. Your breathing becomes shorter and he notices it. You can tell by the way his lips curve ever so slightly into a satisfied smile. You try to look away, but it's like being sucked into a vortex. His magnetism keeps you trapped. And the biggest problem is that you like it. You like his look, his control over the situation, the way he seems to read your every hidden thought. “I hope my son treats you as you deserve,” he continues, sipping his glass of wine with an air of complete relaxation. “Because if it wasn't… well, that would be a real shame.”

When the night comes to an end and your boyfriend is drunk, Sang-Woo looks at him with a disapproving glance. “You shouldn't drink too much, Son,” he tells him, his voice stern and authoritative. His tone seems to carry a hint of warning. Your boyfriend apologizes, but Sang-Woo just shakes his head. “Go and rest, I'll take care of her.” Your boyfriend nods and staggers to the bedroom, and you're left alone with him. Sang-Woo's gaze turns to you, his eyes studying you with sharp attention.He takes a step closer, invading your personal space with his imposing presence, and you feel your heart beating faster in your chest. There's something in his gaze that makes you nervous, but at the same time, intrigued. "Let me take you home," he says, and there's no room for refusal in his tone. "It's late. I don't like the idea of you traveling alone."You stare enthralled him for two seconds and then nod. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Sang-Woo's lips curve into a half-smile. He seems pleased with your compliance. "Don't thank me," he replies, his voice low and almost velvety. "It's the least I could do. I wouldn't want you to end up in trouble." He offers you his arm with a small gesture, and you hesitate for a moment before accepting it. His touch sparks a current inside you, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty.Sang woo smiled satisfied now that he had you all to himself and he could have sworn that he would seduce you.

As you both walk to his car, Sang-Woo feels satisfied with the situation. He has you next to him at this hour, and he can't deny that the idea of having you all to himself excites him. He glances at you from time to time, noticing the way your body tenses under his gaze, the way you unconsciously cling to his arm. He knows the effect he has on you, and he relishes it.When you reach the car, he opens the door for you with a gentlemanly gesture, but his hand lingers a little too long on your waist. You feel his touch like a warm flame on the skin, and it makes a shiver run through you. "Careful," he murmurs, and there's something in his voice, an almost possessive note, that makes you swallow. He's enjoying the situation, and you feel like a mouse in the hands of a cat.

You get inside the car, and the interior is enveloped in an intimate silence. Sang-Woo takes the driver's seat and starts the engine without saying a word. The car glides smoothly on the road, and the only sounds are the hum of the motor and the occasional murmur of the radio. You're aware of his presence next to you, his scent invading your senses, making your heart beat faster. His hand is on the gear shift, and for a moment you wonder if his fingers would feel so good on your skin.

As if Sang Woo could read your mind, he put his hand on your thigh and caressed it as he drove. Just as the thought crossed your mind, you feel his hand on your thigh, and gasp softly. Sang-Woo's touch is firm, and his fingers seem to leave a trail of fire on your skin under the fabric of your dress. He looks straight ahead, but the corner of his mouth curves into a sly smile. He looks like he's enjoying making you feel so out of control, and it drives you crazy.Your breath becomes shallower, and you try to ignore the effect he's having on you. But it's impossible. His thumb moves in slow circles, tracing an invisible pattern on your skin, and it takes all your willpower not to shiver. You're hyper-aware of every gesture, every move he does. You don't understand why you're reacting this way, why your body betrays you so shamelessly.You feel your panties getting wet, and it drives you crazy. You can feel the embarrassment rising in you, and you start to wonder how he will react. Will he notice the effect he's having on you? Will he use it against you? You try to move, to shift positions, to do something, anything to break the tension, but he doesn't let you.

Sang-Woo looks in your direction as if he sensed that something was bothering you and you see the hint of a smile on his lips, almost a challenge. "Everything alright?" he asks, and his tone seems innocent, but you know he's fully aware of the situation.You nod. "Your son is very lucky to have a father like you" you say trying to change the subject while still feeling his hand on your thigh. Sang-Woo's thumb continues to draw languid circles on your thigh, and his amused smile widens. "Is that so?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. "Why do you think that?" His tone is relaxed, but there's something in his eyes, a glimmer of challenge, that makes you feel a shiver down your spine.

You notice him pulling into a parking lot and you lick your lips. "Well you take care of him" you whisper feeling more excited with every touch of his. You curse yourself for wearing a skirt. Sang-Woo parks in a secluded spot away from any other cars, and the silence that descends upon you is almost electrifying. "Yes, I take care of him," he murmurs, his voice dropping lower, almost a whisper. His hand moves higher on your thigh, and it takes all your effort not to moan in response. "But tonight, I want to take care of something else..."His words create a shiver deep in your body, and you can't deny the effect they have on you. You're almost panting now, breathless, waiting for his next move. You know it's not right, you know you shouldn't feel this way, but it's becoming impossible to resist. His touch seems to awaken something primal inside you, something you didn't even know was there.

Sang-Woo can feel your excitement, the tension that builds inside you, and it fuels his own desire. He leans closer, his hand now resting on the inside of your thigh, and you're acutely aware of his proximity, his warmth, his scent surrounding you.Your breathing is heavy as you look at him longingly.

Sang-Woo's eyes are fixed on yours, their gaze almost hypnotising. He's aware of the effect he has on you, and he enjoys seeing you at his mercy. "You know, I've been watching you all night," he whispers, his voice dripping with sensuality. "The way you laughed, the way you talk... you're an absolute distraction." His hand slides higher up your thigh, and you gasp softly, barely able to contain yourself.His touch is almost possessive now, and it fuels your arousal even more. You've never felt so alive and so vulnerable at the same time. It's intoxicating, the way he can make you feel just with a few words and a touch. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to regain control of your own reactions, but it's no use. He has you completely under his spell.

Sang-Woo leans closer, his lips hovering just an inch from your ear. "Tell me," he says in a low, velvety voice, "what do you want?" His hand continues to move up your thigh, his thumb tracing an invisible line on your sensitive skin. You're trembling now, your mind a chaos of conflicting thoughts. You know you should stop this, but you don't want to.You try to find your voice, but all that comes out is a soft moan. "I ..." you stammer, trying to find the words, but your brain isn't working anymore. Your whole body is on fire, responding to his proximity, to his touch, and it makes your head spin.

Sang-Woo chuckles softly, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. He knows he has you right where he wants you, and he's enjoying it immensely. "Use your words, darling," he teases, his breath on your neck sending another wave of desire through you.You take a deep breath and try again, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I... I want you," you manage to say, and the words leave your lips before you can even think about it. As soon as they're out, you feel a strange mix of embarrassment and excitement.Sang-Woo's gaze darkens at your confession, and his smile turns predatory. He moves even closer, his hand fully placed on your hip now, his touch firm and possessive as he draws you closer to him. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice a low growl. "That's what I wanted to hear."

Sang woo drags you into his lap.Sang-Woo wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap with surprising ease. You're suddenly sitting astride him, your legs on either side of his thighs, and the position is both intimate and intensely vulnerable. His eyes are fixed on yours, his breathing heavy with desire.You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the strength of his muscles under your palms as you put your hands on his shoulders. His hands grasp your hips, fingers digging into your flesh through the thin fabric of your dress. He's in control, and you're fully aware of it. He's the one who set this situation in motion, and you're completely at his mercy.

You were shaking with excitement and Sang woo smiles "I bet you're wet" he whispers moving a finger inside your panties.Sang-Woo's words send another wave of heat through your body, and you're unable to suppress the moan that escapes your lips. You're trembling all over, and every touch of his seems to set your nerves on fire. You're both panting, your breaths mingling, and as the tip of his finger grazes your wetness, you gasp, your knees buckle, and your fingers in his shoulder.

Sang woo smiled and put two fingers inside you and hummed satisfied feeling how wet you were. "My son makes you feel like this too, hm?" he hummed moving his fingers inside your pussy.Sang-Woo's words make you shiver, and you feel a sudden pang of guilt in your chest. But his touch, his fingers inside you, are too much for you to think straight. You're lost in the sensation, consumed by the desire he elicits from you. "No," you gasp, your voice barely a whispers.

You know that what you're doing is wrong, that you should stop, but you can't. His fingers, his voice, they're like a drug, and you're addicted. The guilt and the pleasure mix inside you, a dangerous cocktail that makes your head spin. "Sang-Woo..." you breathe, and it's like a prayer, a plea, filled with need and hopelessness.Sang-Woo's smile widens, pleased with your response. He knows he has you right where he wants you, and no one will ever know about this except for the two of you. It's a secret, a moment out of time. "Yes?" he murmurs, the word wrapped around by his deep, velvety voice. He scissors his fingers inside you, drawing another moan.

You bury your face in his shoulder, unable to face him in this state. It's too much, this mixture of guilt and pleasure that clouds your mind. You're lost in a sea of sensation, and Sang-Woo is the one steering the ship. "Don't," you breathe, your words muffled against his shirt. "We shouldn't," and this time it's a plea.Sang woo adds a third finger making you scream with pleasure. "Now?" he teases you. There’s something wrong with you…You can’t stop this…

Sang-Woo’s gaze darkens as he sees the conflicting emotions in your eyes. “Don’t think,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. “Right now, just feel.” He fingering you with passion.

You moan and cling to him tighter. “So good,” you murmur. Your words fuel his ego and he smiles, pleased with himself. “That’s right,” he whispers, his breath hot on your ear. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” It was almost like a statement because he knew he had you in a mess.

You can feel how much this excites him, how much he enjoy the fact that he can make you react this way. And the worst part is that you enjoy every moment of it, despite knowing how wrong it is. Your body betrays you, responding to his every touch, his every word.You're drowning in an ocean of pleasure, and there's no way back. Sang-Woo is in complete control, and you're caught in a net from which there is no escape. The guilt and the desire mix to form a potion of ecstasy that keeps you hooked.

“I'm coming” you moan and then kiss him.The kiss is a desperate attempt to ground yourself, to find a anchor in the storm of emotions that threatens to overwhelm you. And Sang-Woo responds, his lips moving hungrily against yours, devouring you with an intensity that takes your breath away.You feel your body tremble as the wave of pleasure builds inside you, your fingers clinging to Sang-Woo's shirt, desperately trying to hold onto something, anything, as the world around you spins out of control. He smiles against your lips, pleased with the effect he has on you.You tremble with pleasure and come into his fingers as you moan into the kiss.

It seems like there is no break. There is no room for any other thought than that of what was going on here and it was a vicious cirlce of lust and desire. Lust that was consuming two bodies that were unable to restrain themselves and the desire to let this go on forever.Sang-Woo breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes burning with an intense look that makes your heart beat even faster. There’s a smirk on his lips, the satisfaction of someone who knows he has you completely in his power. “You like that?” he whispers, and it’s both a question and a tease at the same time.

He takes your fingers off and licks them, moaning. "You taste so good, honey," Sang woo murmurs in satisfaction. His words make you shiver, and you can feel your body responding to his touch in ways you thought impossible. You're completely at his mercy, and he knows it. His gaze is dark, almost predatory, as he looks at you, his words filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction.

“I need more” you whisper desperately as you grind yourself against him like a bitch in heat, moaning. Sang-Woo's expression is satisfied, a dark smile on his lips. "Greedy," he whispers, tilting his head back and enjoying the sight of you so desperate. "You want more, huh?" And before you can answer, he pulls you even closer, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of you.He undresses you with a satisfied smile. His eyes roam over your naked body, taking in every curve and contour. Sang-Woo murmurs an approving sound as he runs his hands over your skin, his touch possessive and hungry. "You are beautiful," he whispers, his voice low and hoarse.

Sang woo kisses and lick one of your nipples while squeezing the other. He continues this for three minutes. Then he takes it out of your mouth with a pop. You're a mess, shaking with pleasure and desire, and you can hardly think straight anymore. Sang-Woo's hands on you are like a flame that just burns brighter with every touch. You want more, you need more, and the words leave your lips unbidden. "Please..." you breathe, and it's a plea, a prayer.

"Are you that desperate to get fucked by your boyfriend's father?" Sang Woo mutters as he squeezes your nipple. His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can feel a pang of guilt mixed with desire. This was wrong, but you couldn't deny the effect he had on you. You wanted him, with a fervor that made no sense, and the shame of the situation only added to the excitement. You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with need, and you knew that he enjoyed it.

"I need you," you moan softly, the words coming out as a plea, a desperate need. It's true, you need him more than you'd like to admit, and it scares you a little."I need you," you moan softly, the words coming out as a plea, a desperate need. It's true, you need him more than you'd like to admit, and it scares you a little.

Sang woo smiles and makes you stand up for a second to pull down your pants and boxers and then you stand back up. "Tell me honey, has my son fucked you yet?" He whispers while caressing your ass.

You can almost taste the desire in the air, the forbidden longing that hangs like a heavy mist. His lips were like velvet, soft and deadly, and you couldn't get enough of them. And his words...they were like a dagger, a reminder of the terrible thing you were about to do. “No,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.Sang woo smiles. "Good" he whispers and takes you in with a bang fucking you hard without making you adapt to his Big size.

“You’re so fucking tight” He growls fucking you harder as you moan loudly whimpering in pleasure. You ride him as he fucks you and you moan loudly screaming his name over and over again. You're a mess, trembling with pleasure and desire, and you can barely think straight, let alone utter a coherent sentence. The sound of your moans and whimpers fills the air, and they echo in both of your heads, drowning in the pleasure.“your pussy is heaven darling” Sang woo murmurs as he pushes himself harder into you.

You can barely form a thought, let alone say anything, but the words are like a prayer to you. You're lost in a world of sensation, and his name is the only thing you know to say. "Sang-Woo..." you whimper, and it's like a mantra, a plea to never stop.He's a man in control of the moment. In control of your body and mind. He knows what he's doing and how to make this pleasurable for you. He's driving you closer and closer to the edge, and you feel like you're losing your mind.He slaps your ass and nibbles your ass as he fucks you harder making you scream with pleasure.

You're beyond the point of no return now, completely his. There's no going back, no turning away from what's happening. His words, his touch, they all make you feel alive, and it's overwhelming.

"I'm cumming" you moan and Sang woo moves faster kissing your neck. "Come baby, cum on daddy's cock" Sang woo whispers. You moan at his words and come screaming "Daddy" he grunts and cums inside you.

The words escape your lips without you even realising it, and they're so natural, so unexpected. But when they're out, you feel a sense of shame mixed with satisfaction. It's like a secret you both share now, a small act of rebellion against the world

[cuteandhughesy]

30 and sid pleaseeeeee

prompt no. 30: "you got me flowers?" "yeah? is that like..not a normal thing with guys your age?"

a/n: but if a time jump! sid is retired and coaching kids :)

you slide the silver dainty hoop into your ear, clasping it closed once it’s fully through. you repeat the process on the other side, smiling triumphantly as they glimmer in the light above your bathroom mirror.

you smooth down the front of your summer dress, feeling the soft material between your manicured fingers—it’s like buttermilk. you twirl around, checking over your look once more time.

it’s your third date with sidney crosby. you meet him at your little brothers hockey game, one that you had to take him too because both of your parents had to work. you didn’t even mean to run into him—sure, having the sidney crosby coach your brothers little league team was really cool, but you were never really into hockey, and you honestly didn’t care to meet him.

you were running a little bit behind that day, practically pushing your brother along so he’d stop with the damn sloth pace like he always does, when you ran right into him.

his jaw had ticked, starting down at you while your younger brother blinked between the two do you helplessly. the team is already on the ice, skating around to start their warmups. which means sidney was coming to look for your brother.

“i’m sorry,” you said, ushering your brother along to the direction of the change room. “we’re late. I didn’t even know what time the game started, and my parents didn’t tell me they needed james dropped off until 20 minutes before-“

your babbling was amusing to sidney, and if anything it made him feel a bit fond. yeah, he’d been angry that one of his players was so late that they were missing warm ups, and he was on his way to raise some havoc, but then you walked in. silky looking hair and puffer coat that reminded him of a baby penguin, ushering your brother along like you were both apart of a secret mission.

sidney found it endearing. “it’s okay,” he tells you, a half smile on his face. he tucks his clipboard under his arm and then extends his hand in your direction, “i’m sidney.”

you let out a sigh of relief, the smallest grin pulling at your face. you were fully prepared for the retired nhl phenomenon to team you out in front of everyone, so his softness, for lack of a better word, caught you by surprise. you take his hand delicately, “i’m y/n.”

you started taking your brother to james more often than not after meeting sidney, which your parents didn’t mind—work was keeping them busy enough without driving james around. your crush your on your brothers coach was pathetic, you knew that. he was older than you, too busy paying attention to a bunch of kids to even notice you staring at him helplessly in the stands.

but then he asked you for coffee.

and then after getting coffee together he asked if you were free for dinner that following friday.

and now you’re here, in your shitty apartment bathroom getting ready for an afternoon lunch with sidney crosby.

you decide that you don’t need anymore jewelry or extra makeup—what you’ve already got on will do. you flick off your bathroom light, rounding down the hallway to your bedroom. you cringe—it looks like a tornado blew through your room. multiple different clothing pieces strewn across the floor from only 20 minutes ago when you were frantically trying to find something to wear.

you just wanted to look appropriate and pretty and mature for your date.

god, sidney crosby has turned you into a melty mess and you haven’t even kissed the guy yet.

as you’re slipping on your shoes there’s a firm knock at your door—two to be exact. your body goes hot and a smile lights up your entire face. you practically skip out of your room and back down the hall, “coming!” you call softly.

when you open the front door sidney is wearing a lopsided grin, dressed in a light blue linen button up and khaki shorts. he looks like a yacht dilf. his salt and pepper hair glimmers in the sunshine, and the cologne he’s wearing makes your head feel dizzy. “hey,” sidney says, walking up the last step of your stoop.

“hey yourself,” you smile nervously, accepting the warm hug he offers you. it’s only then that you notice the bouquet of spring coloured flowers— daffodils, baby breath, and a few others you don’t recognize but are still stunning. you eye him shyly, reaching out to stroke along one of the petals, “you got me flowers?”

the way you ask him, so unsure but still filled with hope makes sidney falter. just for a moment. he passes you the bouquet, to which you raise to your face and smell them instantly. “yeah? is that like…not a normal thing for guys your age?”

you grin, a small bubble of laughter following. “no,” you say, rounding into your small kitchen and pulling an empty vase down from the top of your fridge. sidney watches as you move effortlessly, your dress swinging and hugging you in all the right places. he almost wants to shake his head in disbelief. you’re so stunning.

you fill up the glass vase with tap water and then place the flowers in, setting the arrangement on your counter with a soft smile. “I love them,” you say, skipping back over to where sidney is standing—which is now inside your entryway, leaning causally against the wall beside a picture frame. “thank you.”

your hands rest on his stomach, thumb stroking the linen top absentmindedly as you look up at him. sidney’s smile turns more soft, raising his hand to push your loose hair behind your ear. “of course.”

he doesn’t move his hand like you expect him too. sidney stays cradling the side of your head, and before you can react, he’s leaning down, pressing a firm closed mouth kiss to your lips. he pulls away after 5 seconds, and then leans back in for a quicker peck before completely pulling off you.

you blink in surprise, “we’ve never done that before.” you say dumbly.

“no,” sidney says, “we haven’t. is that okay?”

“definitely okay,” you mumble, pushing up to your toes and kissing him again.

—

(unedited)

[meritski]

freezing the moment • kinich x gn!reader

“It never snows in Natlan. Does that mean nobody will experience love here?”

It started with a silly sentence you read in a silly book. One’s first love is the person with whom one experiences the year’s first snow, it said.

It was indeed stupid. Your question, and the statement itself.

Yet, when Kinich thought about his mom and dad— he found himself thinking that it might be true after all. 

It was either right or what he longed for wasn’t love. Because the situation at home clearly was not what he desired.

Noticing how the usually quiet boy remained silent, you sighed. Was he bored? Okay, you can try to change the subject a little bit.

“I’ve never heard anyone have a Cryo vision either. Does that mean since we are in the nation of war, there is no place for love…? Ah, Snezhnaya must be a wonderful place. That's probably why it snows a lot there, right, since it's the land of love? I am so jealous.”

That finally made him speak, to your delight. If he hadn't, it might have flustered you— though since it was Kinich, you wouldn't have minded too much.

Or maybe you would have. He was so good in your eyes that you wouldn’t want to be an embarrassment next to him.

“A rumor says that someone named Granny Citlali from Night Wind’s has a Cryo vision.”

Ah, okay! A new topic, one that he chose to talk about too. You can work with that.

“Do you think she would make it snow if we asked? For fun?”

Seeing your excited eyes and hearing the curiosity in your voice, he paused just for a second before shaking his head.

“They say that she is super scary as well.”

Boo! 

“I’ll make her like me then, trust!”

His gaze lingered on you longer than it should. Though you were so busy talking about a character in your book that came off scary, just like the said elderly, but was a huge softie instead— you didn’t notice how his eyes softened.

He trusted you, without any doubts.

Because before you met him, he too had been perceived as intimidating and scary.

So yes, you could definitely make her like you.

Just like you had with him.

As you both grew older, you realized that you had been too carefree back then.

Because now that he was a saurian hunter— no, on top of that; now that he bore the name ‘Malipo’ you didn't see him around much.

Nothing changed between the two of you, of course. But the environment itself changed, unfortunately. And that made a huge difference. Because now your time with him was ten times more precious, maybe a hundred, which means that even every millisecond you spent together should be cherished.

Now, today, it was by pure luck that you guys ran into each other while doing commissions today. It was a rare sight, not that you minded, of course. You truly missed him over the past few days.

Although it was work, you were minding your business, and you knew Kinich was also doing the same. Fitting. The one who wasn’t minding their own business was Ajaw, apparently. Very fitting, indeed.

“Ugh, how long is this going to take? Might I remind you that I have places to be!”

Well, here we go again.

“Oh yeah, what places?”

Kinich's tone made you crack a smile, it was endearing seeing him like this. Since you two never bickered, their odd dynamic always was full of surprises.

While Ajaw was talking about his fans and Kinich reminding him that they are nonexistent, you simply enjoyed the moment.

And it was good while it lasted, you must say— until a hidden domain you stumbled upon ruined the moment.

The wind wasn’t like the warm breeze at the top of the mountains during the sunset; it was cold.

Natlan was never cold. Never.

As soon as Kinich noticed the change of the air, the jacket that had been loosely wrapped around his waist suddenly found its place on your shoulders. His expression was indifferent.

You, on the other hand, were caught off guard. Flinching slightly at the sudden weight, the warmth quickly crept up to your cheeks. To your displeasure, Ajaw noticed this, he mumbled a quiet ‘disgusting’ and vomited some rainbows. (Spoiler: You might want to deal with him once and for all today.)

Kinich wasn’t known for his words; his actions always spoke louder.

It was his silent way of showing he cared, you noted. He really didn’t change, after all. 

While you two walked through the domain, the chilly demeanor of the domain grew even cooler. Well, if you want to look at it from the bright side, the distance between you and the saurian hunter nearly vanished. His arm brushed against yours from time to time. Though both of you were cold, his skin felt warm— weirdly warm.

When you noticed how his nose was a little bit reddish too, you decided to joke about it a bit. He looked cute, you wouldn’t see the famous Malipo like this often. Why waste the chance to play around a little?

Well, the universe had different plans, just as you were going to comment about it; you slipped. Slipped? Yeah, dragging Kinich into the fall too. You were playing around, alright. 

His hand was at the back of your head, protecting it from the harsh impact it could have gotten. And on top of that— no, let’s rephrase this. On top of you, there was Kinich. 

Wow. Way to go.

Embarrassed, you were so ready to apologize but the sudden coldness you felt on your cheek made you stop. 

The saurian hunter’s shoulders stiffened, his hair, one that is highlighted with orange and green, was now painted white. 

It was snowing.

It was snowing, each snowflake delicate and fleeting— just like the moments you two had and still continued to have.

It felt like the time had stopped— in such a way that the snow froze it, just for the two of you. Just as if giving you the chance to treasure it.

His eyes, which looked like the sunrise in the forest, were locked on you. His breath was caught up on his throat, it seemed (since the usual puff of mist didn’t escape from him). And it did make you more nervous.

Your back was getting cold despite his jacket, and also a little bit wet too. Now you realize what you two were walking on was a frozen lake. Can’t blame you for falling, really.

The whole domain was cold as ice, the pounding on your chest made it impossible to feel it. 

It was warm. Being near Kinich was warm. The memories you two shared were warm. His gaze was warm. He was warm, and he was also making you feel warm.

The feelings you harbored for Kinich, were warm. 

It seems like it wasn’t a silly book nor a silly quote after all.

And when his eyes dropped to your lips for a millisecond(one that should be cherished), a sneeze interrupted you two from a distance.

“Achoo.”

Oh, Ajaw. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ notes!

☆ another work that might get rewritten </3 i swear it sounded better in my head JDHJWJEKFFLES anyway ! ( + not proofread, feel free to correct any mistakes if there is any <: )

☆ i started writing this when it started snowing in the city I live in, it's been 3 years since it last snowed here (there was an albedo event back then, too... guys albedo brainrot is so real that i might drop the draft i've been working on for the past week HDFJWHKFWL), and now the snow has melted haha. great timing to finish the work i guess (,:

☆ i also forgot citlali existed at first ): literally wrote 300 words about "the people of the nation of war doesn't have a place for love" theory...

☆ nevermind that, hope you enjoyed it !

[namsgyu]

gift giving hcs with namgyu <3

a/n: this takes place outside the games!! (≧∀≦) not proofread!! just a silly idea that popped up in my head, pls enjoy! <3

You —> Namgyu

you like to give namgyu things that remind you of your relationship with him

matching couple sweaters, keychains of characters from shows you watch together, even simple jewelry he swears looks stupid, but yet you find him slipping it on before you two go out

he scolds you for “wasting money” on him, but when you’re not around he looks at the items you’ve gifted him with such sweetness in his eyes

when he gets promoted at club pentagon, you gift him a watch that he’s been eyeing but deemed too expensive to buy

to celebrate namgyu’s promotion you make a reservation at a nice restaurant, planning to surprise him during dinner

when you pull the velvet box out and present him with it, he chuckles “is this another set of matching bracelets?”

however, his eyes go wide as he opens the box, the watch staring back at him

at first he doesn’t know how to respond, looking back at you like you’ve pulled the world’s cruelest joke on him or something

when you confirm the watch is the real deal, his expression softens and you’re greeted with a warm smile. “i have nothing else to say but thank you” he grabs your hand, rubbing his thumb against it “this is the nicest thing i’ve ever received” he says genuinely, his eyes meeting yours

definitely subtlety flexes his new gift LOL

purposely chooses to show up to work with his sleeves rolled up, watch shining under the club lights

when asked about it, oh boy. his chest swells with pride “yeah y/n got it for me” he’ll say with a shit eating grin on his face

Namgyu —> You

namgyu’s gifts to you are well thought out

he thinks about it for weeks before buying it, secretly wondering if it’s stupid or not. it’s never stupid

that phone case you’ve been eyeing? he has it saved and in his online shopping cart. the perfume you always stroll by when window shopping together? he has a photo of it on his phone, ready to buy when needed. the stupid-faced plushie that you think is soooo cute? he knows exactly which stores he can buy it at

being said, when your birthday rolls around, namgyu goes all out

weeks before your birthday, he’s ordering your gifts online, secretly hiding them in places you won’t see

days before, he tells you he’s going out with thanos to help him work on his music. instead, both of them are at namgyu’s place trying to wrap everything as nice as they can

when you tear into the presents namgyu watches you intently, trying to read what you’re thinking

as you gasp and whip your head towards him questioning “how did you know i wanted this?!” he’ll shrug and reply with “just a hunch”

if you try to tease him about keeping tabs on the things you’ll like he will absolutely deny it. starts trying to defend himself saying “you only looked at it a million times”

when he sees you using the gifts he gave you, namgyu feels a sense of accomplishment. he’s happy seeing you happy, it’s as simple as that!

if he’s within earshot of you telling one of your friends about something that namgyu gave you, he makes sure to bring it up later. “aren’t i just the best?”

thanks for tuning in!! feedback is always read and appreciated!! <3