#thread ✩ i’m gonna name him fluffy ✩ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ohimsummer · 8 months ago

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TROUBLEMAKER ft. CAT! STSG AU

— cat! au (gojo + geto), afab! reader, shoko cameo, stsg cat shenanigans, crack, some explicit language, gojo is the most annoying and insufferable he’s ever been ever (/affectionate)

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ part 1! finally got around 2 finishing this :3 idk about satoru yet but suguru is a fluffy oriental shorthair in my head. no I will not debate this ♡

wc 4.2k

“They’re…cats…?”

There’s an incessant sound of scribbling on Shoko’s clipboard. Her voice is almost drowned out by a white feline’s cries for your attention. “Yup.”

The other cat, the black one—Suguru, apparently—lies content in your arms, purring into your chest as you thread through long, sleek fur. A voice nags at the back of your mind that petting him is a little peculiar, but his hair is like silk. You can’t help it.

Satoru, ever the asshole, batted away all your efforts to pet him, and is now left in his regret to wander circles around your ankles. Angry, dilated pupils never leave Geto—who remains blissfully indifferent—as Gojo paws at your feet to be rewarded even a glance.

“It’s the side effect of a cursed spirit. I’m assuming it went ‘whoosh’ and they went ‘psshhh’.” Shoko makes a shrinking motion with her hands. “And now they’re cats.”

A frown weighs down your lips at her lackluster explanation. “I don’t think I understand—”

“Anyway, it should wear off in a couple days.” Her pen swivels in your direction, eyes steady trained on her paperwork. “You gonna need my help buying supplies?”

“Huh—!” The words choke up in your throat. “Why are they coming with me?”

Shoko finally spares you a glance, an audacious look as if you asked something idiotic. “Oh, please, you really think they’d be happier staying with me? Besides, I don’t wanna do it. Duh.”

There’s also the unspoken assumption that she wants the apartment to herself for a couple days. Or to have Utahime over in peace but, ultimately, you’ll be stuck catering to this feline duo.

“God, I—, fine.”

The journey back to your place is going smoothly, save for when Gojo conveniently decides to figure-8 between your steps. Or stop in front of every sweets shop to blink his giant, round cat eyes at you over his miniature sunglasses.

“He’s so cute!,” a passing older lady stops to fawn over him. “Look at him and his little glasses, how adorable!”

And you just offer up a grin, afraid to dip a toe into this awkward small talk as if Gojo has always been this talkative, adorable kitty—knowing just yesterday he had you in a headlock over not sharing your own dessert with him. You also don’t want to be susceptible to any related teasing whenever they turn back, brushing off her comments with forced laughter as you continue onwards.

Gojo lags behind, responding to the woman with some proud cat noises before running ahead to reach your side again. Unfortunately, right on his heels is this persistent older lady.

You can hear her firing off a barrage of questions and statements: “What’s his name? Is he a Persian? I have a little gal at home that looks just like him!”

It’s a struggle not to roll your eyes. Sure, her chatter is innocent, but you don’t want to be bothered. Besides, these are not some childhood pets accompanying you on an errand—they’re two, 6-foot-tall boys in feline bodies, primed to snag onto any questionable comment you make as ammo to bully you in the future.

“His name is Gojo. Not sure of his breed. I just got him.”

Uninterested tone, closed-off body language, pace picking up—none of it seems to be enough to deter her.

“He looks so nurtured!”

Said he looks cranky and tired, legs a blur as Gojo runs to keep your pace. He growls out obvious complaints, nipping and clawing at your ankles to slow you down.

“You must be such a wonderful cat momma to him! I bet he’d make some pretty babies—“

Suguru makes a stuttered, breathy noise in your ear, an amused chuff that must be his cat version of laughter.

An incoming crosswalk threatens to leave you at the mercy of her conversation. Your eyes are trained on the mocking, red hand, the one thing that prevents you from booking it to the other side of the street.

You’re forced to slow down as you draw nearer to the heap of people awaiting the signal change.

Her “Could I get a picture of him?” sends a shudder down your spine. Perhaps jaywalking would grant you a ticket out of this.

The crossing icon switches right before you’re forced to a complete stop, and a sigh of relief escapes as you maneuver through a confused crowd. Mutters of apology are left in your trail of dust, along with the ear-catching clamors of a white kitty.

You only peep behind you for a brief second, Suguru’s ticklish fur floating around in your nose, and you spot the lady getting swept away by the wave of ongoers. Her voice is lost beneath the sea, a camera-yielding hand flailing above unbothered heads.

Geto flicks a bushy, dark tail over your face, thoroughly getting hair on your tongue this time around. You’re about to turn and scold him before skidding to a halt right before colliding with a large, metal pole.

His white-furred partner is not so lucky, though he only makes an abrupt faceplant into the back of your lower calves. Gojo plops back on his rear, giving a low meow as he uses a paw to straighten his crooked sunglasses.

“Thanks, Suguru” you mutter, and he flicks an ear in response, continuing to guard his spot on your shoulder for the remainder of the journey. Geto is mostly silent, save for the occasional silky mew to either grab your attention or get his explorative friend in line.

Upon entrance to your apartment building, Satoru only seems to grow more unruly. He leaps onto the front desk, spitting sharp grievances as you gather him up and layer apologies to the worker behind the counter. Suguru makes sure to land a few light warning taps on his head, almost slipping off your shoulder when Gojo retaliates with his own irated slaps. The scene of you tottering into the elevator while also breaking up a literal cat fight makes for quite the show for the few people in the lobby.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands pretty full, eh?,” a man chuckles, arm held over the elevator doors so you may stumble inside.

“I don’t—stop it, you two—know what I’m gonna do with them,” you sigh, and he replies with a sympathetic head shake.

The doors ease shut, and then what should have been a short trip to your room is prolonged when Gojo decides he wants to swat at the buttons. Now, on top of stopping at floors where there are actual people waiting, you’re stuck visiting six others that he and his mischievous paws have so chosen. And also forced into more awkward interactions of people complimenting your wonderful animal caretaking skills.

“The black one is so well-behaved.,” a young brunette fawns. She raises a hand to scratch under Suguru’s chin, face falling in embarrassment when he pulls away from her. “O-oh, I’m sorry.”

You can’t tell if she’s apologizing to you or him.

A short cough disguises your giggle, and you inform her, “Ah, it’s fine, he’s just weary of other people.”

She seems reassured at your words, glancing at a wriggling Satoru in your grasp. “He doesn’t look too interested in being pet, either, haha.”

Gojo weighs heavy in your arms, and you readjust to get a better grip on him, ignoring his meows of complaint. “Yeah, he’s kind of an asshole—“mrrow!”—and he might scratch, so I’d advise against it.”

A shy grin spreads on her lips, and then the girl is exiting the lift, waving goodbye to you and the two kitties.

Upon reaching your own floor, Gojo zooms out into the hallway, vocalizations echoing in the empty corridor. Geto remains carefully seated on your shoulder, leaning onto your head and surely leaving strands of cat fur in your own hair. The white cat speeds ahead until he arrives at your door, and then immediately begins another cacophony of loud meows, seemingly in an effort to rush you.

“Satoru, be quiet!”, you whisper-shout at him from down the hall. The words are barely audible in your own ears over the sound of his impatient yells.

They only die down once your keys enter the lock, and Gojo slithers inside the second the door is cracked, Geto not far behind as he leaps from his anchor point. You roll the joint in a circle—he’s so cute as a little parrot on your shoulder, but the lack of weight is a welcome relief.

“Jeez, Suguru, you’re kinda heavy.” The obvious offense in his low ‘mrow?’ makes you giggle. “I’m gonna get changed and then I’ll make dinner after. Be right back!”

There’s a pitter patter of steps, and Gojo is sidling up next to you for your upstairs trip. He pounces onto the bed, watching as you grab a shirt (his) off a chair at your desk, and a pair of leggings from the closet. Geto resides at the top of the stairs to supervise, ready to intervene should his idiot other half start causing more trouble.

With the clothes in your hands, your next stop is the bathroom, though you halt in the vacant doorway with Gojo right on your heels.

“Ummmm…,” you scoff a laugh as blue eyes blink up at you. “Satoru, you’re not watching me change.”

He replies a conjoined, high-pitched ‘mrow-row?’, not making an effort to move. Geto strolls over and bats at his fluffy, white rear, an unamused look in his violet eyes. While Gojo turns to defend his haunches, you giggle a ‘Thanks, Suguru!’ for the second time and disappear into the bathroom, promptly ignoring the dull smack of a paw and a loud hiss as your hip bumps the door shut.

A white head snaps in your direction upon your reappearance. Gojo trots forward to greet you, bushy tail straight up in a friendly gesture. His calmer counterpart is nowhere to be found when a flash of black catches your attention, and you spot Geto balanced on the railing of your bedroom.

“Keepin’ an eye on Satoru?” You realize you’re talking to him in somewhat of a babified pet voice, but he doesn’t seem to mind, only purring happily as you scratch a finger under his chin.

Someone doesn’t like that, and your hand rapidly recoils as an angry Gojo steadies on his hind legs, shouting angry yowls and hisses and furiously slamming a paw at any part of Geto he can reach, sending the black cat plummeting off the railing and you hear him land on the level below with a loud thud.

“Satoru Gojo!” Named cat looks back at you like he didn’t just essentially push Suguru to his doom. “You’re gonna behave in my house, sir, or I’m sending you back to Shoko!” He opens his mouth to complain, but you cut off Gojo’s meow with another scolding. “Nah ah, I don’t want to hear it! Don’t start trouble or it’s to the shelter, ya hear?”

His ears flatten back, expression akin to what you can only describe as intense worry, and Gojo grants you a final, pleading meow as he stands again, front paws against your leg. You reach down to pet behind his little ears, and he leans a fuzzy head into your palm, tail swishing as the rumbling in his throat grows louder.

“You’re such a baby.”, comes your gentle coo as Satoru’s lids ease shut. “Could’ve asked for pets way better than that.”

You only reward his bad behavior for a moment. The caress of your hand stops far too soon for Gojo’s liking, and he’s right behind to follow you back down to the first floor. Geto meets you halfway, looking behind you and leaving you to continue on interrupted. There’s the sharp sound of a ‘smack!’ and a pair of tiny, blue sunglasses tumble past to land at the bottom of the stairs.

“Ah, ah! Satoru, get down!”

The guilty feline goes skedaddling off the countertops, casting Geto an envious glare as he scampers to sit right at the threshold where your kitchen meets the living room.

Your eyes narrow at him, suspicious and distrustful, before returning to your cooking under Geto’s careful examination from the marble surface. His tiny nose livens up at the savory smells wafting around the kitchen, pink tongue darting over a furry mouth as he curiously eyes the fried rice in the pan.

The delicious scent of cooked meat creeps up his nostrils, and Geto turns to eye his slice of the chicken breast you’ve so graciously blessed him with. It’s only partially nibbled on so a third of it still remains, but if Satoru had his way, both he and Suguru’s servings of the meat would have long since been given a home in his endless stomach. It’s why your gaze keeps traveling around the room. You’re keeping tabs on Gojo and his greedy whereabouts.

Speak of the devil—barely two minutes later and the snowy thief is back. His shrill meows pierce your eardrums, restless paws tracing steps between your feet, scurrying behind your couch when he almost trips you only to eventually return when your scowl has disappeared.

The air of your apartment feels happy, jubilant. It’s so serene considering these two are in the same room together. Just the sizzle of food, the background noise of the television, and Gojo’s constant yowling for any smidge of your attention—though it feels domestic in a way if you don’t think too hard on the fact that it’s Satoru. Maybe there’s also the quiet sounds of chewing whenever Geto decides he wants another bite of his chicken.

The hassle comes whenever you turn your head and Gojo makes his move, leaping onto the counter to cause havoc. His troublemaking comes in a plethora of ways, but his favorites seem to be taking a bite out of Suguru or attempting to steal whatever leftover scraps are in his sight. His sneaky plans are foiled by the black cat either wrestling him back onto the floor or meowing an alarm so that the Gods (you) may banish Satoru from the kitchen once again.

Matters are only made worse when you offer Suguru a piece of egg from your now-finished dinner, and the exiled, white cat screeches in a show of utter betrayal.

“Oh my god, Satoru.” You pluck another chunk of poultry from the skillet, kneeling to present it in your palm. “Here.”

Suguru’s eyes narrow at his dramatic feline partner, ears twisted back and dropped to flatten against his head as the tip of his black tail flicks back and forth.

Gojo pads over. His pink nose looks adorable, scrunched up as he sniffs your hand for a second or two before licking his lips, and then he snatches the cooked egg from your hand and scurries off. There’s a large sigh behind you; Geto gives you a half-lidded eye-roll from his new spot at the edge of the counter, before voicing a short ‘mroh’.

You grin at him. “He’s such a goofball, isn’t he?” ‘Mrow-ow’.

With your meal finally ready and a grumbling stomach, you curl up on the couch, bowl of oyakodon in hand. The movie playing on the tv is boring, and also halfway done so it doesn’t hold an ounce of your interest. Even so, you try not to notice the pair of blue eyes peeking at you over the coffee table.

Ignoring Satoru and his hungry gaze makes for a far more entertaining game. The tip of his bushy, white tail is visible from where you sit, swaying side to side as Gojo eyes your bowl of food.

“You’re not getting any, Satoru, you’ve already eaten most of the kitchen, today.”

‘MrraAAH!’ He lets loose a dramatic scream, squinting sky blues at you.

Gojo’s so focused on vacuuming up any possible crumbs that he doesn’t notice the black shadow creeping up behind him. It’s not until Suguru paws at his snowy-colored fur that his cerulean eyes turn towards him. They hold each other’s gaze before Geto ducks out of your sight, and soon Gojo with him. There’s a sound of scuffling, someone’s frantic meows, and then the white kitty skids into view with Geto pinning him down, both wrestling as he tries to sink teeth into Satoru’s back.

You take another nonchalant bite of food. “Get his ass, Suguru.”

Gojo’s continual wriggling finally grants him freedom from the black feline’s clutches. You watch in amusement as he flees the scene, Geto hot on his tail. Satoru goes careening around the corner of the coffee table, nails scraping your hardwood floors so he’s stuck gliding like a cartoon character before disappearing from view; Suguru takes a more parkour-ish approach, rebounding off the wall and he goes flying into his target if the following ‘thud’ and ‘MRAH!’ is of any indication.

A late-evening shopping trip wasn’t on the schedule for today, but there was an unfortunate flaw in today’s system: the call of nature for your two new kitties.

Your original plan was to get everything tomorrow. Cat food and bedding could be improvised for tonight, and Satoru was enough entertainment for he and Suguru together. One thing had slipped your mind until you found the two causing a racket atop your closed toilet—a litter box.

One quick trip later, and now you’re back home arranging their little tray, pouring the grey pebbles inside and hiding it on a mat in the corner of your living room where they could have more privacy.

“There ya go!” Your hands fall to your hips, looking proudly over your work. The two large cats stand on either side of you, glancing between you, each other, and their new bathroom. “Go on, now, don’t be shy.”

Satoru grants you an offended glare over his shades, while Suguru turns and walks away entirely, the tip of his tail flicking in annoyance.

“Hey, I went through the trouble to go out and get this thing for you two and this is how you repay me?” Satoru nips at your leg in response. “Ow! Stop that! Fine, hold it then, but you two better not do your business on my floors.”

Though they seemed adamant about not going in the litter box, you can see the idea nudging its way into their little heads as the urge to go grows stronger with time. You catch them sneaking glances at their designated corner, easing closer and closer to the box. Suguru sniffs at the entrance before leaving it again. Satoru apparently thinks keeping his back to it will make his need to use it go away.

“Mrooww!”, Geto voices to you, clawing at your front door.

You sigh at him. “Suguru, just use the litterbox.”

He produces a sound between a meow and a low growl, still showcasing his irritation with flat ears and a swaying tail.

“Is it too little? You two want something bigger? Or two separate litter boxes? Either way, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow because it’s late out and I’m not walking you all the way to the park for this.”

“Mroh..?”

Arms fold beneath your chest. “And you’re not going by yourself, either.”

Gojo circles your legs, letting out a low chuff. No doubt this is amusing to him. His pouty friend sighs and struts away like a stubborn child, hissing as Satoru bats at his lowered tail and leaving to hide somewhere in your room.

You move on with your nightly duties—tidying up your kitchen, putting away leftovers, keeping an eye out for the shenanigans of a white-haired feline. Maybe twenty minutes have passed, and you suddenly hear the scritch-scratch of litter being tossed around.

From the corner of your eye, you see a bundle of black whisps protruding from the entrance of the box. It’s not any of your business until you have to clean the thing out. For now, you’re just content he’s using it and not tampering with the health of his liver.

Then, through your peripherals, Gojo pops up next to the box, sitting just outside of it. He peeks inside, meowing, and jolts back as a black paw reaches out to slap him away. There’s an exchange of curious cat noises and irate yowls, before a screech echos from the litter box and you rush over to break up their impending battle.

“Satoru—,” you snatch him away, spitting out clouds of his shedding, white hair,”—give him some privacy, damn.”

You heave Gojo and his massive self up your stairs throughout another set of his meowed complaints, watch as he cranes his head at the sound of more scratching litter.

“Why are you being a pervert trying to watch him pee?”, comes your exasperated question.

He wriggles expertly in your arms, instantly escaping your grasp around his upper body and goes fleeing downstairs no doubt to harass Geto again.

It’s the end of the day. You’re over it for tonight. “GET UP HERE.”

His swift steps and the scraping of litter both halt at the tone and base of your voice.

Satoru turns his shiny, blue eyes to you, head slightly lowered in shame like a child who knows they’ve angered their mom. He turns-tail, creeping back up the stairs with cautious steps. Once he reaches your side, blacks of his eyes wide and round, he gives you a squeaked ‘mrow…?’.

Geto peeks around the corner to peer up the steps at the sudden commotion, retreating when he sees your crossed arms and the fed-up taps of your foot.

“Up the stairs. Now.” Gojo skitters past you without a second thought. “You two, Suguru, let’s go. It’s bedtime.”

A short pause, and then he comes trotting up to the second floor, tail raised straight up and he gives a flurry of bright meows as he obeys your command.

They’re both on the bed by the time you travel the remaining few steps to your bedroom. Both sit side-by-side, obedient and still and awaiting your next move.

“I’m gonna finish my routine. Don’t you two start any trouble while I’m busy, ya hear?”

A harmonized ‘mrrow!’.

“Good boys.” You clap your hands together with a grin. “Now get ready for bed.”

“Satoru, you can’t sleep there.”

While Geto has, of course, chosen a more ideal, comfier spot for bedtime near the edge of your bed, his counterpart takes a more…spacious approach. They’re both rather large cats, so him laying sprawled out on his back, smack-dab in the center in a spread-eagle is not the most suitable place for Gojo to slumber.

Your words elicit no reaction from him—not besides the flick of his ear, anyway. Geto’s tail swishes from side to side, a tell that he’s about to bop Gojo with a harsh paw to the face and a hiss. And he does just that, but it seems Gojo has caught on as he grabs hold of the furry black arm with his paws. You watch the duo wrestle as he tries to sink fangs into Geto’s shoulder. They’re like toddlers fighting over a toy, and the scene just elicits a shake of your head in defeated amusement at their childish antics.

He’s got Gojo pinned to the bed, the latter bunny-kicking his hind legs in futile efforts to shove Geto off him, before they both go tumbling onto the floor, breaking up their little quarrel. The two scurry off in opposite directions, Geto under the bed and Gojo into the open door of your bathroom. Two loud thumps. Your butt hasn’t even hit the mattress before the sound of things falling catch your ears.

“Satoru…?,” you call out, disappointment evident in your tone. A second passes before his purred 'mrrr?' and you feel Geto’s whiskers brush your bare ankles as he peeks from his hiding spot. “Did you break something in there?” More silence, and then the smallest, cutest squeak followed by a blue eye that peeks around the corner.

Walking into the bathroom, you’re not met with completely heinous results. He must’ve ricocheted off the walls to make such a mess in such few seconds. Your toothpaste and a few makeup products are spilled onto the floor, and Satoru approaches with your toothbrush carried in his teeth. Hands on your hips and a brow quirked, you just take it and make a mental note to get a new one in the morning.

“Alright.” The sound of your double claps echo off the tile. “Out. Both of you.” And off they go.

It takes a few extra minutes to clean up Gojo’s small mess, and bedtime this time around is easier when a large white cat isn’t trying to take up majority of the bed. You settle beneath the sheets, Suguru curling up on the other, unoccupied pillow this time, and Satoru so graciously plops down to lay on the curve of your back.

“Comfy now?,” you crane your neck to address the cat whose head rests at the incline of your ass. He murmurs a low meow in return, and you turn to Suguru, who’s eyes are the only thing you can see in the darkness. “And you?” The subtle sound of purring emits from his throat.

“Okay. G’night, you two.” And you are lulled off to sleep with their low, harmonious rumbling.

tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis @elusivemoon @yunymphs @hellkaiserinphoenix @plutowrites @babytoshiii

#idk what tags to use for this btw #stsg au #x reader #stsg x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #geto x reader

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super-unpredictable98 · 2 years ago

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Head First (Robert Sheehan RPF)

Word Count: 1k

Warning: strong language

a/n: Okay then, the time comes for my first RPF... I decided to write something fluffy, totally silly and simple, and mostly something you could all relate to, tried to make it so everyone can see themselves. Hope it works lol

(Masterlist)

It all started with that interview. You were PMSing hard and your cramps were killing you.

"Sorry, I'm not gonna bother you during your press day," you mumbled on your way to the kitchen. "I'm just getting some paracetamol and a heating pad. I'll be out of your hair."

"Hey, you still hurting?" Rob asked with a worried frown.

"Yeah, this month is kicking my ass. I think I'm gonna take a nap."

"C'mere," he said, patting his thigh. "I'll warm you up."

"But the interview..." You looked at the laptop prepped on a pile of books on the coffee table. The press for the new season of Umbrella Academy was about to start and your relationship was still not public, so your plan was to stay in the bedroom the whole time preferably quiet.

"Don't worry about that, just lay down over here and take your nap, nobody will even see you," he assured.

The fact that he wanted to stay close to you at that time meant a lot and you simply couldn't resist.

So you slept for about an hour while he answered the questions and played games, all while gently running his fingers through your hair and rubbing your lower stomach. It was all going well until a sudden sound woke you up, and still disoriented, you lifted your head.

"What's wrong?" You murmured.

"Nothing, love, it's okay," Robert stoked your back and you settled back down.

"Who's there with you?" The interviewer asked with a chuckle.

"It's my girlfriend, she wasn't feeling so well and I couldn't leave her alone."

"Is y/n okay?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, she just needs to rest."

And that was it. All hell breaks loose online after that five second interaction. Even if your boyfriend assured you there was nothing to worry about and you didn't 'ruin' anything, you still had a horrible feeling about that.

Later that week while Robert cooked dinner, you were taking a quick look at Tumblr. It had been a while since you posted anything or checked your dash, and oh man... It was filled with opinions. Both good and bad, but everyone had something to say.

The gifs from the interview, more specifically the moment where your head is visible were spreading like wildfire. Pictures pinpointing every detail of your forehead and eyebrows, memes, and people had already reached your Instagram.

Luckily your name on Tumblr was just a random witty joke, so no one knew you were there, but the comments on your pictures and new followers were starting to fill your notifications prompting you to private your account, not to mention all the tweets and even some tiktoks.

It was overwhelming, to say the least. A little scary taking into consideration that some people were somewhat upset. There were no death threats (yet), but there were enough remarks about your looks, your age, your weight, and your voice to leave you uneasy. Most people were nice, but the ones who weren't were always louder and the first ones to show up.

Didn't know Robert was doing charity work

Man needs glasses LMAAO

She must have a great personality...

One particular Tumblr thread caught your attention. It was someone you knew from your time as an avid consumer and creator of the hillsite.

Essentially, the thread was a passive-aggressive rant about how you were not his type but it was so sweet and kind of him to give someone like you a chance, mentioning that you were probably faking not feeling well just to mark your territory by showing up seemingly accidentally.

"Y/n is the one dating him, you just sound jealous," you murmured to yourself as you typed that response. "At the end of the day, who's there? The ugly bitch you despise so much."

Okay, that wasn't your proudest moment. Your emotions got the best of you and you just wanted to fight back and make this person feel bad like they did to you.

"What's wrong, darling?" Rob asked, noticing how quiet you were.

As he closed the oven and made his way to the couch, you immediately shut the computer. He had no idea you had that account from years ago and you hoped he would never find out.

"Nothing," you smiled, opening your arms to embrace him.

"I know you, c'mon, spit it out," he chuckled, tickling your sides. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

"It's nothing serious, just your fans are kinda tearing me a new one right now," you laughed, trying to make it seem like you didn't care. "Some of them anyway."

"Oh, I see," Robert nodded. "Hey, I'm sorry some people are giving you a hard time just for being with me. I love you, no one's opinion is ever gonna change that, but reading that shit is just gonna make you spiral."

You wanted to be as relaxed as he was, the world could be on fire and he would take it as an opportunity to make s'mores. Usually you were good at letting things go, but being a target like that was very hard to ignore.

"I know, I shouldn't be wasting my time with this, but-"

"But you're curious, aren'tcha? Why would you care what a handful of dickheads has to say?" He smirked knowingly. "Believe me. This is one day for you, about 20 years for me. Just trust me on this, okay? Dinner's almost ready."

"I'll try..." You said, already reaching for your phone to check your notifications.

"Nonono, give it to me," Robert snatched it from your hand and held it up in the air, way too high for you to reach. "I made your favorite, we're gonna eat and talk and forget this social media hell. This is why I don't like this shit."

"But, Rob-"

"No buts," he insisted, stealing a kiss. "If you wanna read something so bad, read my manuscript and tell me what you think before I send it to my editor. Either that or I'll have to keep you distracted in other ways."

"Hmmm... Yeah, that might not be so bad."

Tag List:@seanfalco @salvador-daley

#rpf #rpf fanfic #fanfic #robert sheehan x reader #robert sheehan fanfic #one shot

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kingeomer · 3 years ago

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Now You’re In The World

Geralt/Jaskier / rated teen / 1,849 words / ao3.

inspired by this tweet, which grabbed ahold of me right after christmas and wouldn’t let go until i wrote some new years fluff. i’m super proud of this one, i’m not gonna lie.

“Merry Christmas from the Pankratz family! Julian couldn’t join us this year so it’s just the two of us again, and the dog, of course. May your holiday be filled with the warmth of your loved ones by your side! — Alf and Jules xx”

The picture on Jaskier’s Facebook feed had caught his attention first; his mum and dad sat by the fireplace back at Lettenhove Hall, logs burning in the hearth. The family dog was at their feet, and hanging from the festively trimmed mantelpiece were three red stockings, each with a name embroidered in white thread below the fluffy white trim.

Julia, Alfred, and Jasper.

They could’ve at least pretended there was a place for their son in the family home by hanging a stocking for him.

Geralt lifted his head when he heard a weary sigh from the other side of the room, looking away from the lunch he’d been preparing to where his boyfriend sat at the kitchen counter, phone in hand as his coffee sat neglected.

“What is it now?” he asked, wiping his hands on a tea towel as he padded across the kitchen, leaning against the counter across from the musician.

Jaskier let out another sigh, putting down his phone to slide it across the surface to Geralt, showing him his mother’s oh so perfect Christmas morning without her failure of a son present to ruin things.

“Ah,” Geralt responded, swiping up on the screen to close the cursed app for Jaskier, saving him from looking at the offending picture and caption much longer.

“It’s fine,” Jaskier said, aiming for noncommittal but knowing he’d missed the mark by miles. Geralt sighed quietly, moving around the counter to wrap an arm around his boyfriend, holding him close and kissing the warm spot behind his ear that always made the brunet shudder.

“It is fine, because we’re gonna have a great holiday,” Geralt told him firmly, his large palm resting against Jaskier’s chest pressing against him, right over his steadily beating heart. Jaskier grinned to himself then, turning slightly on the stool to look up at the love of his life fondly.

“We are, aren’t we?” He leaned up for a kiss then, capturing warm, plush lips with his own and shuddering as strong arms enveloped him, Geralt stepping closer into the gap between his thighs and crowding him against the counter as his tongue slipped past Jaskier’s lips.

Yeah, they’d have a fine holiday without the judgement of the Pankratzes, thank you.

——————————

A week feels like no time at all when you’re having the time of your life.

Geralt and Jaskier were at Geralt’s family home just like every year, in the company of his two dads and his three brothers, ex wife and her new wife and their adopted daughter. Lambert had brought a guest this time, a “friend from work” called Aiden. Jaskier immediately bonded with the other outsider, welcoming him into the fold alongside himself and Triss.

Geralt, as the eldest of the brood, would pretend like he was somehow above his two younger brothers and their shenanigans. Jaskier knew better, having seen -year after year- endless drinking games, dick punches, unplanned wrestling matches, and various other stupid feats of physical endurance that usually ended with Jaskier kissing Geralt’s bruises and rubbing his aching joints on an evening. He’d had no doubts that this year would be much of the same.

The week between the two holidays was spent eating too much good food, like always. Eskel and Ciri had spent hours in the kitchen, and having roped in Aiden this year, there were cakes, fresh bread, and elaborate meals aplenty. There’d been too many drinks, too, with Jaskier curled up in Geralt’s lap, drinking a glass of wine which kept mysteriously being topped up while Geralt sipped at a glass of scotch.

When New Year’s Eve did roll around, Jaskier couldn’t help but feel a little miserable. Another year unwanted, he found himself thinking as he scrolled Facebook again, speeding past bullshit updates from his family, not caring to see their annual ball, the pretentious bullshit, and some horribly passive comments about Julian not being present.

He was torn out of his thoughts by Ciri, the preteen throwing spindly arms around his waist and beaming up at him with the full power of the sun. God, he loved this family. He ruffled his as-good-as stepdaughter’s hair before he wrapped his arms around her, hoisting her up the couple of inches he could manage and making her shriek with laughter.

He would not let his parents ruin his time, he wouldn’t.

Later, with the party in full swing and a few too many glasses of what Vesemir had dubbed White Gull, a horrifyingly strong mix of just about every bottle in his liquor cabinet that the Rivias all swore blindly was a punch, Jaskier was content. Content, but… Well. He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of regret, like he was missing something by not being at that stupid snooty fucking ball.

“What’s up?” A voice pulled him out of his thoughts as Lambert flopped down next to him, his red curls bouncing. Jaskier sighed, looking down at the empty glass in his hands before glancing up at his friend, a surprising amount of sincerity in the man’s eyes.

“‘S just this time of year,” he answered with a tiny shrug, biting his lip nervously. Lambert nodded at his side, and Jaskier almost jumped when a large hand landed on his knee, patting him gently, comfortingly.

“Family can fucking suck, mate. Especially the Pankratzes.” Lambert’s voice had a definite teasing lilt to it, and a quick glance at the redhead’s face revealed a playful smirk. Jaskier huffed a laugh in response, aiming his elbow for Lambert’s ribs and laughing harder when he made contact, knocking a winded sound from him.

“I’m a Pankratz, numb nuts!” But Jaskier was still laughing, a warm feeling bubbling through him. He hadn’t ever really felt a sense of family, not since he was a kid, but here with Geralt and his ridiculous family, he felt like he had somewhere he could belong.

“Whatever you say…” Lambert responded, bumping his shoulder into Jaskier’s with a little smirk before he got to his feet again. He reached a hand out and ruffled the brunet’s hair, cackling and walking away as his hand was slapped, Jaskier smiling to himself as he tried to straighten it back out.

The night went on as expected, with Ciri on a sugar high charging round the house and Eskel holding an ice pack to a bruise blooming on his jawbone after a stray hit from one of his brothers. Jaskier had lost track of Geralt at some point, but he’d popped back up at around eleven thirty, an arm wrapped around his boyfriend’s narrow waist and chin resting on his shoulder.

“Come here often, handsome?” Geralt joked, the smile on his face audible. Jaskier laughed brightly, patting Geralt’s hand with his own and turning his head to kiss him sweetly, lips lingering for a moment. The two men stayed like that for a long moment, swaying slightly to music.

“Hey,” Geralt’s voice was soft, close enough to Jaskier’s ears to make him shiver, and his arm tightened around the brunet’s narrow waist briefly. Jaskier hummed in response, inhaling his boyfriend’s warm scent before blinking blue eyes open slowly. He hummed in response, frowning softly when Geralt’s arm dropped away only to snatch up his hand, tugging to pull Jaskier around to face him.

“What is it, love?” Jaskier asked, a slight uneasy feeling bubbling up in his stomach. He watched as Geralt swallowed and licked his lips, honey warm eyes flickering from Jaskier’s eyes to his lips, down to their joined hands and back up again. He let out a huffed breath before chuckling to himself, a sure sign to Jaskier that he was nervous.

“I uh. I’ve been doing some thinking…” the silver-haired man started, giving Jaskier’s hands a soft squeeze as he bit down on his lower lip, tongue flicking out to wet plush pink lips before he continued. “About family, and what it means. Who family are.”

Jaskier nodded, confusion no doubt writ across his face, but he smiled all the same, encouraging Geralt to continue. He wasn’t always the best with his words, so he’d tread as carefully as he could.

“You’re family, Jaskier. My family.” Oh. Jaskier nodded softly, his eyes prickling with tears he would not shed. He watched Geralt inhale deeply before he spoke again, the bigger man’s eyes uncharacteristically wet.

“Julian Rivia has a nice ring to it, right?” Geralt was clearly aiming for casual, but the slight waver in his voice gave away his nerves.

Jaskier was stunned. Was Geralt saying what he thought he was?

“Marry me, Jask.”

Jaskier couldn’t speak. The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them, the feeling of Geralt’s large hands holding his, the warmth of his breath on Jaskier’s skin as he waited for a response, bottom lip pulled between his teeth to worry at the thin skin.

He nodded first, his mouth hanging open slightly. As Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hands back, though, he found his voice.

“Yes! Yes, of course!” Jaskier could feel his eyes prickling with tears as he let go of his boyfriend’s— no, his fiancé’s hands so he could throw his arms around his neck, clinging onto the other man like his life depended on it. Face buried in Geralt’s neck, Jaskier didn’t notice when the whole of his— their family turned their eyes on them, but the loud cheer from Coen was impossible to ignore.

Lifting his head with a wet laugh, Jaskier wiped the tears from his eyes before leaning up to capture Geralt’s lips with his own for a deep kiss, tongue teasing at the spot Geralt had kept biting down on before sweeping into his fiancé’s mouth. A wolf whistle had them both laughing, Geralt resting his forehead against his as he smiled.

“He said yes!” Geralt called over his shoulder to another round of cheers. The wind was suddenly knocked out of Geralt from behind as Ciri barrelled into her dad, clinging to him excitedly. She was followed by Vesemir and Filavandrel , the two men smiling proudly.

“Welcome to the family, son.” Vesemir’s voice was a warm, rumbling thing, his eyes and his smile kind and inviting. A large hand clapped Jaskier’s shoulder before he was wrapped up in the old man’s arms, and truly, Jaskier had never felt more like he belonged.

The sound of fireworks outside interrupted them, Vesemir letting go of Jaskier with a fond smile and stepping away, taking his own husband’s hand and leading their family to the open patio doors.

“Happy New Year, Geralt,” Jaskier’s voice was slightly shaky still, too many emotions running through him. Geralt didn’t seem to mind, though, instead giving the brunet another soft kiss, large hands stroking down his back to his waist, holding him close as fireworks lit up the sky.

tagging @jaskierswolf, @kueble, @thepassifloradiscord on request :3

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #fanfiction #fluff #manda writes

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portias-husband · 3 years ago

Text

Kinktober - 30th October

Asra + Body worship

NSFW so minors do not read

CW // AMAB asra, mention of some body insecurities, kinda dom reader but not anything specific just them taking the lead, gender neutral reader and no mention of reader’s genitals

All dialogue is reader speaking

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

Asra had been feeling down lately, almost hesitant to touch you, and you had finally gotten to the bottom of it. It seemed that for some reason, this beautiful person had been feeling like they weren’t attractive enough for you. Well long story short he was now laid bare, completely naked on the bed, blushing up a storm as you hovered over him.

“I’m gonna kiss every inch of you and show you how attractive you are, Asra.”

Your voice left no room for question, not that they were going to argue anyway, they were revelling in the attention that you were offering them.

“I love every inch of you, your curly white hair, so fluffy and soft between my fingers.” Your hands threaded through his hair as you spoke, fingernails slightly scratching his scalp just the way you know he liked it.

You began to kiss your way around his body and his face, naming every single place you kissed, and listening to them whimper and whine.

“Your purple eyes, so full of mystery and mischief, that gaze at me with so much adoration”

“Your soft lips that kiss me with passion and speak the most honeyed words towards me”

You pressed your lips onto his, kissing them with the same amount of passion he always gave you. Then after a few moments, you moved lower, kissing his chest and nipples, listening to him moan.

“So beautiful, love”

“This chest is so pretty and strong, these arms that caress me and hold me when I’m scared and upset”

“This tummy that is so warm and soft”

“These legs that are so hot and sexy”

“I love all of you, Asra. So, so much. There is not one hair of you that I would rearrange.”

The intense look in your eyes made them aware that you really meant it, you were enamoured with him and that would never change.

#spot the barbie film song lyric #the arcana #The Arcana Game #the arcana headcanon #the arcana headcanons #the arcana asra #asra #asra alnazar #asra alzanar #asra x mc #asra x reader #asra x apprentice #asra x you #nsft #minors dont look #minors dont touch #the arcana x reader #the arcana x you

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erineverly · 4 years ago

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♨

ˋ 🦋 ❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ❫ : @thornrosed !

july 4th , 1992 happens to be one of these days when the summer heat is extremely sweltering . the sun has no mercy on the delicate rose shrubs and peonies planted in axl and erin’s precious , meticulously tended to garden , as it continues to rain down on them , burning their tender petals and making water evaporate from the soil faster than usual . in the distance , the pacific ocean shimmers like a desert mirage . the temperature refuses to drop even as the clock hung on the kitchen wall inside the beautiful malibu house strikes four in the evening . luckily , not even the muggy heat and dry air combined have enough power to ruin the magic of the celebrations planned for today .

two long tables , spread with red - and - white checkered cloths , have been set up in the backyard and are already brimming with food — fried chicken , hot dogs , potato salad , baked beans , corn on the cob , collard greens and candied yams . the scent of grilling meat and smoke wafts through the air , the barbecue sizzling , a group of men gathered around it . everyone’s here , all of their friends and neighbors , as well as their children . sebastian and his wife maria with their son ( who , despite being only four , is already little red’s best friend ) , duff with linda , gliby and daniella , erin’s brother edan and even axl’s sister . some are stuffing their mouths with delicious , homemade treats and chatting in small clusters , others are hanging by the pool , where one of the coolers sits open , bottles of beer and cans of soda nestled in between piles of ice cubes . the little ones are either playing on bastian’s brand new playground set , clinging to their mothers’ summer dresses or devouring popsicles until their tongues are blue and their bellies feel a bit queasy .

as erin steps out of the house , a tray of glasses filled with sweet tea and lemonade in her hands , balmy breeze lifting dark ringlets off of her rosy cheeks and blowing them around her angelic face , her sky - blue eyes begin to instinctively scan the yard in search of her husband and their son . ten minutes ago the tiny redhead was munching on chicken tenders , sitting comfortably on his godmother’s lap and giving every female around a serious case of baby fever with his cuteness . however , suddenly , he’s nowhere to be found . erin has always been extremely protective of the people she loves but ever since becoming a mother , her fear of losing one of her two boys has grown impossibly stronger . she easily locates her husband , his fiery strands standing out , and makes her way across the patio , to the spot beside the grill where he and his friends are having a heated albeit clearly fun and friendly discussion . ❛ hey , does anyone feel like coolin’ off a bit ? i wouldn’t want any of our barbecue experts to faint , ❜ she jokingly chirps , good - natured humor radiating from both her bright eyes and her dazzling , pearly white smile . she likes to think of herself as of a good host , someone who makes sure that all of her guests are having a great time , their bellies full and cheeks sore from grinning . her gaze flickers to the tray , hoping they’ll get the hint and try her famous homemade sweet tea or lemonade . ❛ have you guys seen bastian ? i can’t find him anywhere and i should probably put more sunscreen on him before he turns into elmo . ❜ their son is not even two years old yet but he’s already so full of energy , running everywhere , always chasing things , that erin worries one day they won’t be able to keep up with their adorable boy . a few jokes is all it takes to briefly distract her from her task . switch off her vigilance .

with their eyes focused on each other and laughter erupting from their mouths , no one notices that little red is toddling toward the sizzling barbecue . being as curious and smart as he is , it doesn’t take him long to figure out where all these delicious chicken tenders are coming from . he’s not tall enough to actually see it but he knows that his favorite food is laying on the scary - looking piece of iron . his dad and mom seem to be having a great time and his faint ❛ mama ❜ followed by ❛ dada ❜ goes unnoticed . his belly is grumbling again but he doesn’t want to wait for someone to notice him , he doesn’t want to interrupt his parents and his uncles so he reaches one of his tiny hands out . he’s a big boy , after all — that’s what everyone says when they see him . he’s taken that one to heart . straining , struggling to grab a piece of meat . he’s not the one to give up easily , just as determined and stubborn as his father . unfortunately , the second time he tries to snatch some grilled chicken , the tips of his fingers manage to instead wrap around the scalding hot burner tubes . it takes less than a second for his screams to pierce the air . the tray falling from erin’s hands .

#thornrosed #answered.#AWWW THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS 😭💙#I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT 😭 EVEN THOUGH THE IDEA OF LITTLE RED GETTING HURT MAKES ME WANT TO CRY #BUT EVEROSE + LITTLE RED IS JUST >>>#i actually debated writing something 100% cute and fluffy but it still turned into pain and bashy screaming bloody murder 😩#i set it in the verse we’re writing rn because i love it so much and thought it made sense ♥️ and i made amy his godmother 😂 bc erin will #insist they pick her 😂#axl and erin having to deal with this would probably result in an argument ?? 👀#but maybe they’d surprise us and be mature for once?? i’m giving them the benefit of the doubt 😆#just imagine when he’s all patched up and no longer crying and someone is like TIME FOR FIREWORKS!#thinking he’s gonna love it but he gets scared bc he’s a scaredy cat 😂 so more tears and more frustration 😂#IT SHOULD BE TITLED SEBASTIAN AND THE TERRIBLE HORRIBLE NO GOOD VERY BAD DAY 😂#also i checked and axl could have been home on that day in 1992 😭 he played last gig on july 2nd #and the next leg was scheduled for november 25th so :’))) that makes sense 😭#he got to spend like five months at home 😭 and in this universe that means five months with his boy and wifey 😭#and i named baby s SEBASTIAN 🥺😩 but it’s nothing binding 😭 if they ( WE ) settle for a different name when he’s actually born that’s fine #i just had to use one of the names we have picked out here bc i didn’t want to keep calling him LITTLE RED 😩#i also left it kind of open in case you wanted to continue and have a teeny tiny mini thread with red like we did last fall 😭#@ Halloween 🎃 this year it could be independence day idk 😂#☆┆ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅ.┆( family. )

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hhoneyglasss · 2 years ago

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what i think redacted characters look like (sam edition!)

notes: y hello there!! sry i disappeared for a bit until earlier today, the last half of this week has been a bit busy w school. i’m gonna start working on the tank version of the ‘dynasty’ miniseries (i need to come up w a better name) later tn. i’ve also started inktober, so i’ll start posting that too!! — i wanted to make this as a drawing and writing reference if i ever needed it, plus i keep thinking about it and i needed to get it out of my head, so here u go.

~ height ~ i thought sam was pretty average height at first (like 5’11, maybe 6’0) until i saw this tumblr post referencing the “ur bond w a vampire” video, and the op said smth along the lines of, “imagine sam being so tall he has to bend down to walk into darlin’s apartment” and i’ve been a super mega tall sam believer ever since. sam is like david-height, maybe even taller to make it extra funny that he’s intimidated by him. (also i tried looking for the post mentioned, but i couldn’t find it, i’m sry!)

~ hair style ~ i think his hair is mid-length— like to his jaw. i don’t think it’s curly, but i think it’s curled at the ends, if that makes sense? like it’s fluffy, so it curls around his jaw and on the nape of neck. he has it parted in the middle for fancy occasions, but usually it’s just pushed back to keep it out of his face (NOT WITH GEL THO. that is a v important point.) i’m going to admit smth diabolical; i think sam has curtain bangs, but i don’t think it’s intentional. his hair just kind of grew like that, so he just gets it cut like that now. i think it’s also constantly falling to his face, and whenever he tries to push it back, a piece just pops back onto his forehead sneakily. perhaps he wears headbands sometimes. maybe darlin even buys them for him. we’ll nvr know.

~ hair color ~ sam’s hair has to be light brown, no i’m not taking opinions. i think it’s that kind of light brown that it’s ALMOST blonde, but only when it’s in the sun. his hair looks like gold thread under the sunlight me thinks.

~ eye color ~ pre-vampirism, i think sam’s eyes were a dark green/hazel-ish color. his eyes kind of looked like a forest, if that makes sense. now, his eyes r silver, but they hv v little crimson flecks in them. i don’t know if the amount of them has anything to do w how long a vamp’s been turned/how old they r, but i just imagine sam’s don’t hv much. maybe i just think his eyes look more human than most vamps’.

~ face ~ sam’s face is like a square/heart mix, w some light stubble along his jaw. i think his eyes r slightly downturned, and he has thicker brows. (i might draw him eventually, but i am terrified i will not do him justice.)

~ body type ~ i think he’s muscular. not like freaky raw chicken-esque muscles gym bro kind of muscular, but the kind of muscular that are comforting and can protect u. his arms r pretty muscular, and i think he has abs. he’s less muscular than david, tho.

~ clothing ~ white tank top (like a wife beater), unbuttoned flannel, jeans. boom. that’s literally all he wears. he doesn’t wear the exact same clothes every day ofc— but he’s got different colored flannels for every occasion imaginable, as well as an endless supply of jeans and white tank tops. i believe he’s got some pretty nice clothes that previously collected dust in his closet, but now tank steals them. also, i’m gonna say smth all might not agree with.. i don’t think sam wears cowboy boots!!! i’m sry i’m sry!!! hold the tomatoes tho and let me explain. i think he believes they’re impractical. so instead, sam wears sneakers. black converse to be specific; they’re so beat up he can just slip them on without even trying at this point. the little aglets r ripped off of the laces, too.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted sam #redacted asmr sam #redacted tank #redacted darlin #redacted headcanons #redactedverse #i’ve been thinking abt this for an embarrassing amount of time #if yall completely disagree i will cry myself to sleep and throw tomatoes at u in return #just kidding #maybe…#honeyglass’s headcanons

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the-cult-of-russo · 4 years ago

Text

The Other Woman

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Soooo. No one asked for this one and I have prompts in my inbox and a multi chapter Billy x OC story I'm working on. Yet… this happened. I was working on an assignment for uni and this popped into my head. Billy lives in my head rent free and I'm not even mad about it. Enjoy lmaooo

Warnings: cursing, slight angst but not really, lots of fluff (literally and figuratively). It's just a bunch of cute bullshit, don't mind me looool

---------

Your nails tapped the coffee cup as you sat outside the cafe deep in thought. There was only one thing on your mind. Billy was cheating on you. There was no other explanation for his behaviour the past week and the knowledge of what he'd done was eating away at you. It started a week ago. He'd slip out after work hours saying something came up. Sometimes he wouldn't even tell you where he was going and when you asked, he'd say 'work' as he avoided your gaze before slipping out. Billy couldn't lie to you, you knew him too well for that. You knew his tells and he didn't really lie to you. But you knew when he wouldn't look you in the eye that he wasn't being honest.

Then there was his phone. He'd be on it more than usual and it was distracting him. The night before, Frank had called him and you knew it was Frank because you'd seen the name popping up on his screen. You'd both been watching a movie on the sofa together as you tried to convince yourself that Billy wouldn't cheat on you. But when he excused himself to the bedroom, your curiosity burned. Why would he need to sneak off to speak to Frank?

So you'd crept over to where the door was open by a crack and held your breath as you listened.

"Yeah, I know…. I'll just tell her I need to work again… I don't think she knows… yeah, yeah, I know… I can't wait for you to meet her, man. She's perfect,"

Those words felt like a slap to the face and a punch to the gut all rolled into one. Billy was cheating on you. Billy was cheating on you and Frank knew about it. Frank who was one of your closest friends, the one who introduced you to Billy in the first place. You'd gone back to the sofa as you dwelled in your misery and betrayal and when Billy had come back out with a wide smile on his face you'd felt sick. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask him, to question him or tell him what you'd heard. You were scared of what he might say. Scared of what this all meant.

You and Billy had been together for almost two years now and you lived together. You knew of his past but never once had you felt insecure about being with him. He loved you, and you wholeheartedly believed he did. So this felt like it completely blindsided you and your head was all over the place.

That morning Billy was gone by the time you woke which was nothing new since he often let you sleep when he got up to work. But you'd come to the cafe by lunch because you were drowning in your thoughts back at home. The home you shared with him.

You blew out a breath, grabbing your cell from your pocket as you rang Anvil. You had a gut feeling and you wanted confirmation. His secretary picked up the phone and you sighed before asking something you dreaded the answer to.

"Hey, Annie. Is Billy there? I need to talk to him," you said softly. The older woman cleared her throat down the phone before speaking.

"He's not here, Y/N. He took the day off," she said warily. Well then. You thanked her quickly before hanging up, the lump lodged in your throat getting bigger.

How could it all have gone so wrong? You stood, tossing the half drank coffee in the trash as you made your way home with a broken heart. You hardly expected Billy to be sitting on the sofa when you got home. But there he was in all his glory. A burgundy sweater with his jeans and boots, hair slicked back like always. You felt like you were hanging on by a thread.

He smiled when he saw you, standing up and making his way over.

"I thought you had work," your cold tone stopped him in his tracks as he looked at you cautiously.

"I took the day, had some things I needed to do," he replied easily. Things he needed to do. More like someone he needed to do. Tense didn't even begin to cover how you were feeling.

"Look… there's someone here I want you to meet," Billy said hesitantly, glancing to the closed bedroom door. He really wouldn't just… The string of composure you were holding onto snapped.

"Is this some kind of joke?!" You yelled. He looked shocked, eyes wide and confused as he tilted his head.

"Uh… what?" He asked carefully.

"It's bad enough you're having an affair that apparently Frank knows all about but you've brought her here?! You want me to meet her?!" You were incredulous at his audacity. You wondered if he'd suffered a head injury a week ago or something.

Billy blinked at you with his dark eyes for a moment before he burst out laughing. But when he saw your tearful eyes glaring at him, his laughter died instantly.

"You… you think I'm cheatin' on you?" He asked slowly, like he was talking to a toddler. Your brows furrowed watching him warily as he walked over to you.

"You've been acting weird all week, Billy. And I heard you on the phone last night. I heard you talking to Frank," you muttered, hating how your voice wobbled.

Billy looked stricken at how upset you were and wrapped his arms around you and you melted into him despite yourself. He stroked your hair soothingly with one hand as the other rubbed your back.

"I'm not steppin' out on you, Y/N. I'd never do that," he sighed. He moved away, cradling your cheeks as his obsidian gaze looked over your face like he was searching for the answers of the universe.

"Not gonna lie, I'm a little offended by your lack of faith, but I have been actin' weird so I'll let it slide," he murmured with a soft smile.

"But then… what was that all about?" You asked, deflating a bit as he wiped away the couple of tears that had fallen. He leaned in and kissed you softly, one of the rare tender kisses he'd give you if you were upset. You were incredibly confused and maybe also felt a little guilty that your mind went there.

When he pulled away, he shot you a grin, looking almost like a kid on Christmas which only furthered your confusion.

"Wait here," he beamed, dashing off to the bedroom. You really felt like you'd been transported to another dimension where nothing made sense. But then Billy came back out with what you could only describe as a living, breathing, real life Pokemon in his arms. It was a Pomeranian puppy that just looked like a cloud with two shiny back eyes peeking out.

You made a noise that you couldn't even describe. A mix of a whine and a coo that people often reserved for cute animals and babies as if they couldn't help themselves. Your feet took you over to where Billy was grinning at you and the ball of fluff was nibbling his hand.

"Billy…" your voice was still a little high, a little pout on your face as you reached out and stroked the fluffy fur on the puppy.

"Meet Cotton Ball. Cotton Ball, meet your mom," he smirked, grabbing a tiny paw and making it wave at you. It was something to behold seeing Billy like this and you almost melted right into a puddle.

"Wait so… this is the other woman?" You asked with a snort, feeling so utterly stupid for how your mind went there. Billy rolled his eyes with a laugh as he handed over the bundle of cloud to you.

"Do you like her?" He asked hesitantly, looking almost unsure as he glanced from the puppy to you.

"I love her. Thank you, Billy," you murmured, cuddling the tiny puppy closer to you.

"I uh… I know that you said you wanted a dog," he started, his shoulder rolling a little.

"Which you shot down immediately," you cut in, raising a brow at him. He chuckled, rubbing his beard a little with a nod.

"I know. But… I saw how disappointed you were and I decided I never wanted to see that look on your face again. Especially not 'cause of me. She hadn't been fully vaccinated and stuff so I've been waitin' to bring her home. Been to see her a few times to get her used to me," he shrugged, looking almost bashful which was a strange look for him. It was cute.

"I love her. And I love you," you smiled wide at him. His insecurities seemed to wash away at your bright smile and he returned it, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

"I love you too. Come here, lemme show you somethin','' he took your free hand and led you to the bedroom. On the floor next to your bed was what looked like a queen bed shrunk down. It was a dog bed but a fancy one and the cozy sheets looked expensive too. There was also a basket filled to the brim with dog toys. You looked at him incredulously with a laugh.

"And here I was thinking you weren't a dog person and you're spoiling her already," you teased. He chuckled, a slight pink tint to his face you couldn't remember ever witnessing as he bit his lip and smiled at you.

"Yeah well… my girls gotta have the best. And… I mighta got attached to her," he shrugged easily.

"Billy Russo has a heart after all. Who knew?" You snorted. He gripped your jaw gently, giving your lips a firm peck before smirking down at you.

"Don't tell a soul or I'll have to kill you. I got a rep to keep," he smirked devilishly. You snorted again, shaking your head as you took the now sleeping puppy to her lavish bed and set her down.

When you walked back over to Billy, you wrapped your arms around his middle and he responded in kind and held you close.

"I can't believe you thought I'd cheat on you," he murmured, nuzzling your hair. You felt your cheeks heat up as you moved away and looked up at him.

"I know. I'm sorry, I just… you'd been acting weird and then the phone call, I didn't know what to think," you said softly. He frowned a little, tucking some of your hair behind your ear before resting a hand on your jaw.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked with a furrowed brow.

"I know. Honestly… I've never questioned it. I've never felt like that before. My mind just ran away with itself," you felt bad now and really fucking stupid but he had been acting weird. How were you to know that he was secretly procuring you the cutest puppy to exist?

He kissed your forehead softly, lips lingering a moment before he cupped your cheeks, tilting your head to look up at him. His dark eyes were full of many emotions and you got lost in them.

"You're the only one I want. Ever since I met you, I never wanted anyone else. I ain't ever felt like this before but all I know is… I'm yours. I love you, Y/N. There'll never be anyone else," he murmured sincerely. You couldn't help the dopey smile on your face as you leaned up and captured his lips in a soft kiss.

"I love you too, Billy. But… I will have to share you now with Cotton Ball," you teased against his lips. He chuckled, nipping at your bottom lip.

"You'll always be my best girl," he grinned, rubbing his nose against yours.

One hand dropped to your neck, the other slinking around you and settling on your ass as he kissed you deeply. Just as you were really getting into it, he hissed, cursing and moving away as he lifted his foot. The foot that had tiny razor teeth latched onto it as the dog dangled off his toe. You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that came out of you as you pried the dog away from his foot.

"Feel like I might end up regrettin' this decision," he huffed, eyes narrowed at Cotton Ball who was now happily in your arms. He wasn't really mad though, his lips were slightly upturned as he reached out and rubbed the dogs tiny head.

"Awww. Is the big bad marine scared the lil doggy might bite his ass when he's having sex?" You mocked playfully.

Billy's mortified face had you in stitches. He looked like he'd not considered it until you said it and now he was glaring at the dog like she'd ready done it.

"We're gonna need some boundaries," he muttered to the dog as he pointed at her, then his piercing eyes turned to you and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter.

"And for the record, I am a big bad marine and I ain't scared of a fuckin' dog," he smirked with a raised brow. You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly as you turned, dog in hand, and left the room.

"Mhmm. Just wait until I tell Frank how you're scared of a ball of fluff. Or the guys from Anvil. Or maybe I'll tell them just how much you love her already," you grinned, laughing when he gripped your hips and dragged you so your back pressed against his front.

"What I tell you? You tell and I'll have to kill you. I don't wanna do that, I might just miss you," he murmured with a smile as he nuzzled your neck.

"Russo's going soooft!" You teased with a laugh, squealing when his hands dug into your sides to tickle you.

Honestly, you never really thought Billy would be a dog person. But you never thought he'd be the type to live with someone and here you were. You never thought he'd be the type to use the L word yet he did with you. He was full of surprises and this was way better than you anticipated. You never expected the other woman to be so cute.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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dc41896 · 3 years ago

Text

That Was Unexpected..

✨Pairing✨: Chris EvansxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: A little prank causes your boyfriend to dig himself into a pretty deep hole

⚠️: Chris being a meatball, fluff💕!

A/N: Hey guys, I hope you like this short imagine! (Don’t really know how I feel about the ending but 🤷🏽‍♀️) This is just something quick and fluffy I wanted to write based off this post I saw on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p/CTZ4vpqFH0w/?utm_medium=copy_link

scottevansgram sent a post

scottevansgram: You should do this just to see what Chris says

scottevansgram: And please let me know if he says something corny like this lol

y/IG/n: Lol and I’ll do you one better😏

Switching your phone to its camera, it’s strategically angled so only your face is seen as to not make your boyfriend suspicious of what you were doing. Not that he’d see it since his attention was solely on the Patriots game playing on the screen. He probably would’ve forgotten you were beside him if not for your calves lying across his lap.

You press record just in time to catch his frustration at the last play making you roll your eyes at the phone propped up by your thighs.

“We can’t keep makin’ dumb mistakes like that if we wanna go to the Super Bowl,” he states. Thick Boston accent very much active before taking a drink of his beer.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight,” you casually announce picking a piece of lint off your shirt. Well, really his but he hardly ever wore it.

You now had his attention though meeting his eyes shining the lightest of greens from the peaking sunlight, as his hand gently grazed over your shin. “Why? You don’t feel good?”

“No I’m fine, I just want to sleep on the couch.”

“Oh okay, we can have a little camp out in here then. Make a fort and watch movies,” he smiles leaning over just enough to sweetly kiss your knee.

“That sounds fun, but I was kinda expecting to sleep by myself,” you reply. His furrowed eyebrows and puppy like eyes aiming right at your heart.

“…did I do something?”

Now, you could’ve ended it there. Easing his worries by explaining how it was just a joke and you wanted to see how he’d react.

Where would the fun be in that though?

“Did you do something?,” you counter making it sound as innocent as you could.

“No,” he quickly answers before his hand nervously scratches the back of his neck. One of the common tells that he was lying. “Well-,”

“Well? Christopher what did you do?”

“Nothing..technically. I might’ve damaged your favorite jersey though.”

“The same jersey my dad bought me at my first ever NFL game?! Seriously Chris?!”

The joke was the last thing on your mind now as you quickly sat up.

“I’m sorry! I was separating the laundry and-and Dodge was there right? And I was kiddin’ around like ‘got a new treat for you’ since we have our little rivalry, but of course he didn’t do anything ‘cause he’s a good boy-,”

“Unlike his father,” you quip making him slightly hang his head.

“Okay I deserve that. So then the doorbell rang and he ran off but the jersey got caught on his nail and made a hole. I tried to sew it but then the thread got tangled and I promise I was gentle trying to untangle it, but when I got the thread apart it also made the hole bigger.” You can only shake your head as you move to stand up, but are instead kept in place with his hands still on your lower legs.

“I got you a new one though! But I guess ya probably already know that..,” he lowly adds with head down in shame for not telling you sooner.

“I didn’t until now.”

“W-what?”

“I didn’t know about the jersey until you just told me. Earlier, that was just a joke from a video Scott sent me,” you explain watching his skin transition from a light pink to faint red and mouth form into a small “o”.

“I just wanted to see how you’d react. I wasn’t expecting a confession.”

Head falling to your shoulder, a giggle slips past your lips at his mixture of a groan and chuckle. Only he would be the one to find himself in a situation like this.

“I’m so gonna kill Scott when I see him.”

“Might not want to say that too loud,” you reply holding up your still recording phone now focused on his face as his laughter grows.

“Well I guess that works in my favor too since you can’t say anything about hurting me now can you sweetheart?,” he grins pecking your lips.

“Mm debatable. I can always delete the evidence honey,” you wink before rejoining your lips with his.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @bekinds @ladydmalfoy @maxcullen @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @damnitaa @literaturefeen @bamondomesticity @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found in masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader #chris evans

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years ago

Text

SIGN ON THE LINE || STEVE ROGERS

PRETTY WOMAN AU

pairing: Escort!Steve Rogers x bisexual!black!reader ; minor pairing: escort! steve rogers x bisexual!black!reader x bisexual!natasha romanov || word count: 14,446 || warnings: smut, sex, rough sex, ass eating, butt stuff, oral sex (male & female receiving), rough oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, face sitting/riding, 69, cockwarming, nipple play, consensual voyeurism, prostitution, daddy kink

authors note: right under the buzzer! this is for @allaboardthereadingrailroad marvel diversity challenge! my prompt was Pretty Woman AU. this is a pretty loose interpretation of the movie, but there are some similarities threaded throughout if you’re familiar with it. once again, a lot was inspired by @honeychicanawrites headcanons here, here, and here. there was also a black and white gif floating around of an animated woman, rubbing, sucking, and fucking her dude, but i lost the link! (i was gonna embed it, but i don’t want my post flagged). also, daily convos with @tropicalcap led to some of the filth. enjoy!

line divider by @firefly-graphics

The wine glass clinks against the porcelain of the bathroom counter as you set it down gently, backing up to eye yourself in the mirror. You push your box braids off your shoulders and twist your body, smoothing your manicured hands down your hips as you primp. Sliding your fingers underneath the thin band of your thong, you adjust it slightly, pulling them up on your hips before letting the material snap back to your body, cutting into your flesh. The Zodiac tights come next, wiggling your hips to pull the crystal embedded fishnets up your smooth legs and up over your behind.

You dig your hands into your bra, pushing your tits up so they sit a little higher in it and pucker your lips, adding a little more gloss. A deep buzz sounds throughout the bathroom, your phone illuminating as a text slides through.

In the lobby

A smile spreads across your face. You grab the fluffy, white hotel robe and shrug into it, tying a tight bow at your waist before arranging your hair again and bringing the glass of white wine to your lips to finish it off. The small bottle of Baccarat Rouge 540 is the last accessory you reach for— spritzing your neck and wrist, rubbing them together slowly to spread the sweet, floral aroma. Grabbing your phone, and the now empty wine glass, you move out of the bathroom and hit the light switch to cover the lavish room in darkness.

You’re wet already— tight muscles clamping around nothing as you pad back into your Presidential suite. Blood starts to race, skin heats up as your heart beat grows harder. You’re so fucking horny it hurts. Stomach is tight and knotted, your clit achy and sore— fingers not enough to quell the need. So you went out one night, found a sex shop, which isnt hard in the heart of L.A.; bought a pretty glass dildo and a diamond studed butt plug— even a pocket vibrator, but it wasn’t enough. You need the real thing, a big, hard, dripping, warm cock to put you out of your misery so you can focus on the reason you’re in L.A. in the first place.

“Oh girl,” Natasha winked, handing over an off white business card, “Having dick on retainer is a must.”

You flipped it over in your hand, your dark eyes skimming over the telephone number printed in the middle of the card, the initials S.G.R. scrawled out just underneath it, “Give him a call,” she winked, “He’ll keep you plenty occupied while you’re here.”

That was two days ago— over a business lunch when the VP of Operations and CEO of the company you’re trying to acquire stepped away from the table. You’d known Natasha Romanov for exactly one week at that point, but she knew the desperation of a woman going without— you're convinced she smelled it on you as soon as you walked into her office. It took her a few days to pry it out of you, but once she caught you discreetly making eyes at the waiter, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you in close.

You’re a woman of the world, you both realize and understand sex work is a valuable commodity, and champion it, for men and women alike. But you never honestly had to give it a second thought, you’ve always had options. A cute little black book that sits just inside of your nightstand, full of names that can satisfy your every mood.

Tony for a quickie when you’re buzzed and on the way to an event, Sam for a back breaking, fingers in your mouth, ‘call me daddy’ romp, sweet Bruce when you want it real nice and slow— somebody to love you just for the night. That little black book doesn’t help you in L.A., and you aren’t about to fly somebody out for a four hour layover.

There’s a rap at the door, three quick knocks, “Just one second.” you call sweetly, slipping into a pair of Giuseppe heels— your favorite Giuseppe heels.

You untie the belt around your waist and throw the robe over the back of the couch as you click towards the door, leaving you in your black, strapless bra, thin thong, and waist high tights. There’s really no need to be modest— you’re both adults. Turning the square, stainless steel door handle, you pull gently, throwing it open for the tall, blonde man leaning against the far wall. He stands up straight, blue eyes going wide as they drop down your body, pink lips quirking into a lopsided grin.

You spin on your heels and retreat back into the room slowly, hearing the door as it hitches when he catches it with his palm. Eyes are on your body as you switch your hips seductively, moving towards the minibar. You can’t help the smile that curls onto your lips.

“Would you like a drink, Mr. Rogers?” You purr, voice low and smooth.

“Steve’s fine,” his voice equally low, equally smooth, “What do you have?”

You hum, opening the small fridge and bending just slightly, poking out your ass, “Looks like Modelo, Vodka, Rum,” you point towards the ice bucket, a bottle of Dom Perignon resting in the chips, “Champagne. I also have some white wine.”

You glance back at him, your braids dangling over your shoulder, swinging gently with each little movement you make. Steven Grant Rogers is a sight for sore eyes— and a sore pussy. He’s tall and lean, chest and shoulders wide and broad, biceps thick. His waist is small, but it adds a little allure to his frame, giving him a little shape. He has a sense of style about him too, another tick in the ‘pro’ column for him. His suit is a simple one but it reeks of great expense. Black, slim fit, no tie. Crisp, white button down with the first couple of buttons undone. Black red bottoms, and a titanium, black faced Hublot watch.

Creed Aventus fills your nostrils as you breathe in and your muscles clench again. You like a man with lavish taste.

“Champagne, please. Not too much though, I don’t like to drink when I’m with a client.” Curious eyes follow you as you move towards the ice bucket, staying on you as you pour two flutes, “I don’t want any misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings?”

His thick fingers brush along yours as you step close, handing him the tall, thin flute. They’re soft, his fingers. He nods gently, clinking the rim of his glass with yours before he lifts it to his pink lips, licking them slowly, “Gotta keep a clear head.”

A sharp inhale of air fills your lungs; a sly smile tugs at your lips. Through hooded eyes, the two of you keep watch of the other as you both down the bubbly champagne. Your lips tingle as you rub the glass along your bottom lip, your eyes bouncing around his handsome, heavily bearded face. His eyes twinkle underneath the lights as they roam— down your chest and stomach, down your long legs— slowly. Drinking you in. Taking stock of each curve, each dip, each line.

His eyes snap back to yours suddenly, but they’re different. Hungry. Aggressive. You take another breath, holding it in your chest for a tick before you exhale and cross your legs, squeezing them tight.

He takes a step forward, closing the already small distance between the two of you to a mere inch, maybe even less than that. He drops his eyes again, his eyelids closing to slits, the dark, delicate, long eyelashes lining them splash out on his cheeks. He inhales deep, a small, thin hum vibrating in his throat as he’s filled with the sweetness of your perfume.

“Nervous?”

The word greets your ears softly, just as it left his pretty mouth. You lick your bottom lip and pull it between your teeth, chewing as your eyes bounce between his. He smiles, pushing his face closer so the tips of your noses touch. He rubs your noses together slowly, up along your bridge, and then the tips again, his smile growing.

“There’s no need to be nervous. We’ll take it real nice and slow, okay?” his voice steady and smooth, low and soft, “You’ve never done this before?”

Two mammoth hands push along your hips, slowly dragging up and down, up and down, up and down. You swallow, a pathetic tremble sounding in your throat that gets him to smile again, “It’s that obvious?”

He chuckles, “It’s okay, honey.” he answers, hands pushing over your ass, “I’ll get you warmed up.”

He squeezes your behind; you inhale again, your hands settling on his chest. Your body is moving, swaying gently back and forth at his insistence, his hands pushing up to the small of your back. Blue eyes stay on deep browns as his warm palm settles in the center of your back, holding you in his orbit. You start to rub his chest, feeling the bulk, the muscles of him— the thick. Your index finger drifts; drifts towards the open buttons of his shirt, playing with them; eyes settling on the sliver of skin and dark hair showing through.

A knuckle pushes just underneath your chin, pressing, pressing, pressing until your head, more importantly your mouth, is tilted up to his. Your eyelids instantly— instinctively— droop, lips part in wait, in want; in need. Hooded blue eyes gaze back at you, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“May I?”

Shudders ripple down your spine as reddened lips brush along yours, “Please.” It’s desperate— the way you ask.

Steve licks into you with his tongue, groaning a little when he sucks your top lip into his mouth. He pulls you in, right up against his hard body, your hands sliding over his shoulders and wrapping around his neck. This mouth is skilled— tongue slipping along your bottom lip and caressing your own. Not too rough, not too gentle, just enough to make you melt into him; to make you go a little limp in his arms.

He nibbles on your bottom lip, pulling softly until he lets go, letting it snap back to your face. A giggle bubbles up, filling the air surrounding you and you swear you feel his dick twitch.

“Feel better?”

You smile sweetly, pulling out of his grasp and sauntering towards your abandoned phone. Tapping into the short text stream with him, you snap your eyes back to him when his phone chimes seconds later. You watch as he digs it out of his pocket and another grin cracks his face as his cash app alerts him to the fifteen hundred deposited into his account.

“Does that answer your question?”

Those pretty white teeth of his dig into his bottom lip, trying and failing to hide the grin that’s been brought upon by your quick wit. He pulls his jacket off of his shoulders, tossing it over the back of the couch before ticking his head towards the bedroom, “Bed please.”

You do not hesitate. You pass by each other as you move towards the bedroom, him towards the ice bucket, plucking it from the table in the center of the room and turning on his heel to follow you. You toss your eyes over your shoulder as you flounce, hips switching again, heels clink, clink, clinking against the marble floor.

The lights of the bedroom rise automatically from the sudden motion in the room. You feel weightless as you fall onto the mattress hands first, crawling into the center of the king bed. His footsteps continue to sound as he enters behind you, setting the champagne bucket at the end of the bed as you prop against the headboard, drawing your legs up, swaying them back and forth slowly.

Steve keeps his eyes on you as he starts to pull on his cufflinks, unclipping the double knotted, sterling silver Tiffany & Co. accessories to free his arms. He rolls his sleeves up his forearms, revealing hair and thick veins— more flexing muscles. Blue eyes bounce between the task at hand and you, that soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips never wavering, never leaving. Foreplay at its best.

Once his forearms are free of the constricting material around them, he grabs the champagne bottle by the neck and plucks out a crystal flute, dropping his eyes from yours as he pours another glass. He moves around the side of the bed, champagne bottle in hand as he sits next to you, handing over the full glass. Lifting it to your lips, you snap your eyes to him when he tuts quickly, wagging that thick index finger back and forth.

Your mouth drops open, eyes go large as you watch him take a swig, right from the bottle. He then leans over you, pushing his index finger into your chin again, tilting your head up towards his. Warm, pink lips crowd your open mouth, his eyes closing gently, the cool, bubbly liquid slipping from his mouth right into yours. You sound— sweet, tiny, pitiful— as you swallow his offering, him kissing you quick after, not giving you time to reel from the intimacy of it.

He’s gone again, just as quickly as he came, heading back to the end of the bed. He knees onto the edge, large palms sliding over your bent knees, fingertips slipping down your calves, gripping and groping as they go. He drops one hand— right to his pants— sends his eyes back to yours as he pops the shiny button and unzips them at a snail's pace. Steve lets his pants hang open as he slides his hands down your thighs, all the way down to the juncture of your hips and legs, pushing his thumbs into the creases.

Steve pushes forward, forcing your legs open as he settles in, resting that hard, lean, strapping body on yours— kissing you again. Deep this time. Bruising. Tongue kneading yours, smacking and sucking your lips into his wet mouth. Moans, both his and yours, thrum and vibrate in your chests and throats. Your muscles clench again.

Lips and mouth are on the move— down your chin, nuzzling into the soft, sensitive crook of your neck. He licks, slow, before sucking the skin, finding that one little pesky spot that makes your hips jut up into his quick. He’s hard, and that makes you whimper again. You hold the champagne flute up high in your right hand, trying not to spill the contents as your hips start to roll, free hand wrapping around and digging into his thick bicep— but you aren’t so lucky. A few drops dribble from the glass and onto your chest, slipping down between your cleavage.

You shiver when his hot tongue slides between your tits to collect the cold droplets, his hands prying the silk material of your bra down. There’s a sound, a grunt, that cultivates deep in his throat at the sight of you, bare and wanton— nipples thick and perky. He slips his hands behind your back to unhook your bra, tossing it without a care to the floor once you’re free.

He inhales sharp, a hiss slipping through his teeth, “Fuck, these are beautiful.”

Your back arches up into his hands as he grabs your tits, squeezing gently, him moaning all the while. He thumbs your nipples before taking one into his warm mouth, tongue flicking and swirling, teeth grabbing. Your body jerks up into him, hips and chest, mouth falls open before your face twists in pleasure. He gives your other breast the same attention— kissing, licking, sucking before he ventures on, his fingers digging underneath the thin band of your tights and pulling gently.

Reddened lips follow his fingers, down your waist, down your hips, down your thighs, calves, ankles, toes until you’re free of the sheer garment. You sip on the bubbly champagne as his hot tongue pushes up the inside of your calf. Sweet kisses are pressed against the subtle curve of your knee, blue eyes through long, dark eyelashes on yours the whole while. Deep, stormy eyes— the kind of eyes that make you wanna think they’re only for you; aroused by you and you alone.

He draws that red bottom lip between his teeth, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, eyes twinkling with a bit of mischief as he nuzzles into your thigh. His fingers curl around the strings of your thong as his eyes dip quickly. You close your eyes and take another sip of your drink when he starts to pull, a soft smile of your own spreading on your face as he exposes you.

There’s fingers— suddenly. Softly. Rubbing. A low hum vibrating in his throat as he touches you. A soft moan slips from between your lips as your hips start to roll, meeting each pass of his digits. Your slick already; clit hypersensitive, almost pained from going so long without. His touch is experienced, slow and deliberate as he presses soft, warm kisses against your thigh, rubbing his bearded cheek against the delicate skin.

The tips of his fingers start to drift. Down, down, down, away from your nub and to your slit where he rubs— caresses— gently. Then they’re pushing, his fingers, index and middle, sinking into you deep, pulling a sharp gasp from you.

He smiles wide before pushing out a breath, “That’s a tight fit, honey baby.” he purrs before blowing softly onto your hot, wet cunt, “It’s been a while, huh?” his voice soft, fingers pumping slowly, “Yeah, it’s been a while. Look at you squeezing down on me, baby.”

Your body jerks when Steve presses his lips to your pussy. He hums as he kisses you again and again and again, before he flattens his tongue against your clit, rubbing gently. He sucks you into his mouth, his eyes closing, eyelashes spreading over his cheeks. Your thin fingers thread into his long, blonde hair, gripping and tugging as your hooded eyes watch his head bob left and right, up and down while he devours you.

Heat blooms in your chest and stomach as you take another sip of champagne and it settles in your belly. You rest your heavy head against the headboard, licking your lips as uncontrolled moans spill from your mouth. Another sharp gasp fills the room as a third finger slips into your eager body. You can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up in your chest, and the satisfied groan that follows.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?”

His voice is as smooth as silk, the deepness of it rattling your fragile bones, “This isn’t all that I wanted, but this is a good start, Mr. Rog—” you pant, words cut off as you lift your hips when he starts to hit that little spot, “Ah, fuck.”

“Mmmm,” he purrs again, “I know this isn’t all you wanted, greedy girl.” Greedy girl. Your cunt clenches at the words, “Oooh,” he smiles as sitting up a little when he feels you tighten, “You like that? Are you Daddy’s greedy girl?”

The champagne flute slips from your fingers, the liquid spilling over your chest and stomach, pooling in your belly button, “Uh oh,” he coos, slipping his tongue up your body, sucking up the spill with his lips as he goes, “Responsive little thing.”

He pulls his fingers from you, leaving you empty, causing a frustrated, childish grunt to rumble through your chest. Steve tuts at you again, although smiling all the while as he starts to work himself out of his shirt. You bite down into your bottom lip as you watch him, more and more of his buttery, tanned, smooth skin coming into view.

His chest is wide, thick with conditioned muscles. Dark hair is splashed across the pallet of his pecs, the little happy trail spreading out across his lower stomach. There’s a deep v carved into his hips— hard abs and biceps flex as he moves. His weight leaves the mattress as he stands and shoves his fingers into his pants, pushing them down sturdy, hairy thighs. Your eyes instantly fall to the dick print in his black Armani stretch boxer briefs. Fuck.

You slip your hand down your side, over your hip and right between your sticky folds, hissing gently as you start to rub yourself, impatient and needy.

“Good girl.” he praises, making your heart sing.

He drops his hand to his dick, squeezing himself as he smirks at you. What a fucking tease— but nonetheless, your pussy clenches around absolutely nothing from just the sight of him. Those fingers of his push underneath the stretchy band of his boxers and start to tug, slowly, slowly, slowly, exposing more and more of his wiry, dark hair and skin. You drag in a deep breath when his cock finally springs free, an impressive girth bouncing as the material pushes over it.

He steps out of his boxers and starts to stroke himself, long, slow drags of his hand up and down his shaft as he watches you dip your fingers into your pussy. You tilt your hips upward as you pump your fingers, the heel of your palm pressing against your clit. Your mouth falls open, your eyes flutter, air chokes up in your throat as you fuck yourself for him, enjoying his hungry eyes on all of you.

But when he’s had enough, he’s had enough. He falls onto his knees, his weight dipping into the mattress and inches towards you, pulling your hand away. His fingers replace yours, rubbing your clit, pushing through your folds, teasing your slit quickly before he slides his hands underneath your butt and pulls you down the bed. His fingers dance over your knees before he pushes them apart and your legs fall open, pussy on full display.

Steve falls over you, hands on either side of your head, as he leans downs and captures your lips again, kissing you sweetly. There’s a sharp taste on his lips and tongue— it's you. You lean into his kiss, deepening it with your tongue as you push your hips upward, shivering when the tip of his cock glances over your clit. Shivers wrack your body again, prompting him to laugh, “Okay greedy girl, okay.”

He pulls back, rolling his shoulders as he slips his fingers between your breasts. You reach for him too— raking your fingers down his chest and stomach as he starts to push at your opening. You grip his side, digging your nails into his thick skin as the head of his cock breaks into you. He slides, agonizingly slow, his long fingers wrapping around your throat as he disappears into you, his own mouth dropping open as you envelope him.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting his head fall as he pushes a breath out of his mouth, his grip around your neck tightening slightly, “You fit me like a glove, honey.”

You push your hips, urging him to move as you wrap your small hand around his wrist and push it up his long arm, stroking gently, “Come on, baby.” You murmur, using your head to push away from the mattress slightly.

“What’s that, honey?” he asks, “Tell me, baby. Use your words.”

You mewl, husky, hips still pushing up into his, “God— fuck me, Steve. Please.”

You push your hips down into the mattress, his dick drawing out of you just slightly. You thrust back up, pushing him back in, deep, before you pull back again— over and over and over. He watches the connection, watching himself disappear and then reappear as he squeezes your throat, a steady, gentle pressure. You keep a hold of his large wrist, gasping and whimpering as you fuck up onto him.

“That’s right, doll,” he whispers, “You fuck my dick, baby. I should be paying you, shouldn’t I?”

You roll your shoulders, moaning loud, “Please,” you beg— nearly cry, “Please, fuck me. Please!”

He thrusts into you hard— biting off the words in your throat. You squeak when he fucks into you again, your tits bouncing with the force.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, thrusting into you a third time, “Hmm? Is that what you want, honey?”

You nod quickly, your face breaking, a long, strangled noise spilling out of you as he pushes his hips into yours. He sets a bruising pace after the first teasing thrusts. Hard, fast pumps of his hips into yours, skin against skin, the sound bouncing off the walls. Wet, choked sounds squeak out from you as he keeps a hold of your throat, your small hands still wrapped around his wrist and forearm. You swallow hard, the pressure from his hand making it slightly difficult but the sheer power— or the restraint he shows despite his obvious strength— makes you want to melt into the mattress.

Steve leans down, licking into your mouth with his tongue as he fucks. He kisses you hard, releasing with a loud smack before he grabs your face and chin, squeezing your cheeks as he shakes your head back and forth gently, “Does that feel good, baby?” he taunts, his red, full lips brushing along yours, “Come on sweetness, don’t go all quiet on me now.”

“S’good,” you grunt, slamming your eyes closed, “Fu— ah! Fuck!”

“That’s right, girl. This is exactly what you needed.”

You’re hoisted up, right up into his lap, your legs curling around his sides. Not missing a beat, you start to bounce and rock freely, throwing your head back as you hang on to his broad shoulders. His large hand wraps around your throat again, but his fingers creep up over your chin, the tips pushing into your mouth. You hum as you suck on them, sucking the salt of your slick right off the pads of his fingers.

Your wet muscles squeak with each push of his cock. Quick, hot spurts of precum dribbling into you as his hips thrust to meet yours. His free hand grips your hips, hefty fingers pushing into your skin, helping you move. Your nipples brush along his chest, the gentle sensation sending flashes of heat and electricity through your body— shudders racing down your spine. The hand around your waist snakes up your back, his fingers playing with the ends of your braids.

He pulls gently, then backs off, mouth agape and eyes wide as they search your face, seemingly asking permission. He tugs again and you let him— your head falling back as your tongue pushes down the length of the index and middle fingers still shoved in your mouth. Your scalp prickles with pain as he pulls harder, craning your head back further, exposing your neck. A screech explodes from your lips when his pearly whites sink into the crook of your neck before he sucks hard, pulling blood to the surface.

Faltering hips, wet smacks, damp skin to damp skin— it’s all so filthy. So crude— but exactly what you’ve needed. His hands leave your hair, leave your mouth; one wraps around your throat and the other thumbs your nipple. He keeps his eyes on you as he hisses, his hips pushing, fingers tweaking, hand tightening to push you closer and closer towards a release. Your pitch heightens, your grunts and cries shaky and desperate as he eggs you on.

“You gonna come for me, sugar?” he asks sweetly, kissing you quick and hard, “It’s okay baby, you can let go. You’ve earned it, sweet girl. You’ve been such a good girl.”

A broken moan chokes in your throat. He ruts harder and faster, each thrust pushing deeper, touching that sweet, vulnerable spot until—

Red hot is the orgasm that ripples through you. You wail as it blooms across your flesh, your toes curling and fingers digging into his shoulders. He grabs your hips as you come, guiding you down onto his cock, and then helping you rock back and forth to drain every last drop of your release. His grip around your waist tightens, his own grunts growing louder before a burst of heat swells in your cunt.

Steve punctuates his spurts with deep, sharp thrusts, hissing and groaning with each one until he’s spent. He murmurs sweet nothings into your neck, hot breath sticking to your damp skin. Your limbs turn to liquid, your head fuzzy and warm as he guides you down to the mattress. He slips out of you, strings of silk following, trickling down your hot, trembly cunt. Sweet, soft lips press against your chest and stomach, over your hips and down your legs as large hands massage your thighs and calves.

A calm washes through you as your eyes grow heavy, your breaths getting deeper and longer as you melt into the soft mattress. You feel Steve moving around, crawling back up to where you are. A long arm slips over your stomach, pulls you close, right into his warm chest and stomach. His beard and lips brush over your temple and cheek, soft fingertips run up and down your arm, pretty epithets lulling you into a gentle sleep.

You’re just as sweet as sugar, honey baby. Such a good girl.

~~~

You roll your shoulders as you shift, eyes fluttering as you start to wake. It takes a few long seconds before your eyes adjust, the room lights having long since dimmed. The moon is high in the jet black sky as bright stars smatter across the canvas. You're still cocooned underneath a heavy arm and crushed against a burly chest, a soft smile spreading on your face as he snores gently.

3:12am flashes on the digital clock on the nightstand as you feel him roll away from you in his sleep, rolling over onto his side, exposing his wide back. Your fingers instantly glance over his smooth skin, skimming down his spine before they curl over his bicep. You should have been sated, but there’s another pull— deep in your belly; still eager, still wanting. Closing the distance between your bodies, you push your bare breasts into his back as you slide your hand underneath the sheets and down his chest and stomach.

You push up onto your elbow and thread your fingers into his dirty blonde hair as your other fingers brush over his soft cock. You wrap your small hand around him and stroke him gently, right from his stomach to the tip of his pretty dick, your palm sweeping over his cockhead and slit. Another smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as he stirs after a few minutes but doesn’t fully wake; just pushes his hips languidly into your hand.

His deep breathing soon turns shallow and choppy, soft moans scratching at the back of his throat but he never opens his eyes. Warm droplets of precum bubble from his slit and you brush the pads of your fingers over the wetness, dragging it back down his quickly hardening shaft. You rile him up, make his cock rigid and angry before you pull on his hip, rolling him over onto his back.

You throw your leg over his body and settle on top of him, ass up, lips mere inches from his hot sex. In one fell swoop, you follow your hand down his cock with your mouth, his hips jerking softly from the wet warmth surrounding him. Humming, you flatten your tongue along him, the tip tracing the thick vein that runs the length of his shaft. You bob your head up and down, sucking and swirling your tongue over his tip, teasing his slit as more drops of salt-sweet cum dribble on your tongue.

Steve’s hands slither up your thighs, grab your ass and squeeze as you suck him off, his hips jutting upward into your velvet mouth. Your mouth goes slack, your eyes fluttering when he slips two fingers into your wet cunt. He fingers you slow, his thumb pressing against your asshole as you start to writhe, rolling your hips against his hard abs to massage your clit.

You pull off of him, your hand still moving up and down, squeezing him as you pucker your lips— letting them gently brush against his cock. His hips rock up into your hand, his moans growing louder by the minute, deep gasps and sighs making his chest tighten underneath your body.

“Goddamn, baby,” his voice low and groggy from sleep.

Your muscles clench around his fingers as they delve and prod, his thumb pushing and circling your warm rim. A hot breath and a quick groan push out between your teeth, his dick jumping in your hand as the air tickles his skin. You swallow him again, taking every inch, relaxing your throat to accommodate him as you bury your face in the dark blonde hair at his groin.

Steve curls his fingers, lightly scratching at your insides, making you clamp down on them, squeezing them tight; holding them in.

Steve shifts underneath you, sucking in a sharp breath, “Get up here, baby. I wanna taste you.”

The sound of his voice rattles through you. His words still slurred with sleep, voice husky. You oblige, wanting his beard between your legs once more, sweeping along the inside of your thighs. You clamor up to him, straddling his face, your thighs closing in on either side of his head. Steve flattens his head on the pillow underneath him and opens his mouth, pushing his tongue out in anticipation of you.

You push your hips forward, rolling your cunt over his lips and tongue. Your head falls back, jaw goes slack as you start to ride his face, his tongue pushing through your sticky, puffy folds with ease. A wet noise fills the room— both his tongue and lips smacking and sucking on your messy flesh. Your hand finds his cock again, your fingers fondling his tip and that pulsing vein.

A chorus of whimpers and whines, quick gasps and deep growls roll through your chest as you grab his hair, pulling his face— if it’s possible— even closer to your cunt. Steve's face is flushed red in the moonlight. He balls the sheets in his hands as he flicks the tip of his tongue against you before he sucks your folds and clit into his mouth, his head shaking gently back and forth. He only releases you to drag in quick, wet breaths before closing back in on you, humming and moaning.

A soft burn spreads through your thighs as you canter your hips, using his chin and nose, along with his tongue and mouth to cop a feel. You’re close again, hips jerking with unexpectancy, your core also starting to burn as your body strains with its need.

Steve isn’t done with you yet. He rearranges you quickly, lifting you right off of him. Your knees sink into the mattress as he grabs your wrists and flattens your hands flat on the headboard.

He fucks into you from behind, not wasting a second in setting a brisk pace. He holds your hips in his hands, fingers digging into your skin as you drop your head, your braids swinging. Your tits bounce with his thrusts, your head knocking into the velvet headboard as you hold yourself up against it. Steve’s hips and balls slap against your ass as he gruffly pulls you back into him. A hand curls around your hip and travels up to your tits, grabbing your nipple between his index finger and thumb to tweak and pull and roll the thick nub.

You’re panting again, cursing and howling as your stomach tightens and your heart leaps, heat rippling through you. A quick sweat pops up on your brow, goosebumps prickle up along your body as your toes start to curl again. Steve’s hips are relentless, driving, driving, driving hard, his girth filling every inch that you have to offer. His fingers start to prod your asshole again, pushing gently against your rim as it constricts and relaxes.

It doesn’t take much. The soft pads of his fingers against your rim, and one, two, three more strokes of his hips and you’re gone. Your mind going blank as your orgasm rushes. Steve fucks you right through it, dropping a hand to your clit as it jumps with the contractions of your cunt. He teases it— your clit— slapping and rubbing quick circles as your walls squeeze around him, finally coaxing him to come again.

You decide that you like the way it feels when he comes inside of you. His silk ribbons coating your squeaky muscles. You collapse against the mattress after your release washes through you. Steve falls beside you, rolling over onto his back and flattening his hand in the middle of his chest as he catches his breath.

“Gettin’ your money’s worth, huh?”

You dissolve into laughter, pushing your face into the blankets as you lay on your stomach, “I am a shrewd businesswoman, Mr. Rogers.”

“You don’t hear me complaining, do you?”

~~~

“It’s a financial risk, for sure,” you reiterate, hands shoved into the pockets of your slim fit pants, your suit jacket open, “But I assure you, we can turn this company around. Carter & Danvers hasn’t had an acquisition fail in over thirty years. I will personally oversee this transition through— until it’s turning a profit.”

All eyes are on you in the boardroom as Hank Prym, CEO and pain in the ass that just won’t sign the goddamn contract, of Lang & Prym Inc. stares back at you, fingers threaded over his lips. For whatever reason, he doesn’t trust you or anything that you have to say, despite the fact that within six months— or less— his company will have to file bankruptcy. Natasha Romanov, CFO of Lang & Prym, sits to his left, green eyes sliding between his and yours. Her delicate fingers play with the pen between them, rolling it slowly as she tosses her short, red hair.

“Mr. Prym,” she starts, “We have to do something. We aren’t going to last much longer without their help. I crunched the numbers for you multiple times.”

He shakes his head slowly, his dark eyes glancing off towards the windows, “We have time, right?”

“We do,” Natasha nods, “But—“

“I’m not ready to sign yet. Not yet,” he stands, and everyone else placed around the table follows his lead. He moves around the table and up to where you are, extending his hand and shaking yours gently, “You’re good, but I’m just not ready yet.”

You smile softly, tapping the back of his hand with your free one, “That’s alright, this is tough, I realize that.”

“I’m glad they sent you instead of that Wade Wilson,” he chuckles, “How long are you in town for?”

“Indefinitely. Until you sign with us, Mr. Prym, I’m a Los Angelean.”

“Well,” he starts, taking a step towards the door, “Have Natasha show you around town. She knows this little taco place that’s to die for.”

You toss your eyes towards Natasha as she approaches and wink, “I’ll take her up on that. She’s already given me a tip or two about the lays of the land.”

You shake hands with the rest of the board members as they exit the room, finally leaving you and the smirking redhead alone. There may be a little underlying tension between you and her, you aren’t entirely sure yet, but you know that her eyes tend to linger on your frame just a tad longer than they should— not that you mind the extra attention, especially from someone as effortlessly attractive as she is.

Her arms are crossed over her chest as she sits on the edge of the mahogany table. A tight, black pencil skirt accentuates her shapely hips and long legs. A red satin blouse, unbuttoned strategically to show off her soft, pretty, full breasts.

“You’re looking a little more lively today.” Her silk smooth voice floats towards you, making you smile, “You gave my pal a call, eh?”

A devilish smile curls on your lips as you push your hands back into your pockets, “He was worth every fucking cent.”

“Glad to hear it.” She winks, and pushes away from the table, her manicured fingers reaching for your tie. She steps in close as she drags her hand down the length of the skinny tie, her big eyes following, “Maybe the three of us can get dinner sometime, hmm?”

You wiggle your eyebrows, “You just name the time and place, Ms. Romanov.”

She hums approvingly before smoothing down your tie and turning on her heel, clicking out of the boardroom with her file folders in hand.

You plop down in the chair behind your open laptop, exiting out of your powerpoint and bringing up your email. You work for a while, but your mind drifts, back to the night before, back to one Steve Rogers. Broad shoulders, smooth skin, sweet, pretty mouth… soon, the thoughts keep you from working. Soon, you’re leaning back in your chair, your fingers playing with your bottom lip as you sway gently back and forth.

You slide your phone out of your pocket and thumb through your messages, landing on his number. Tapping the screen, you stand and bring it to your ear as you take a few steps towards the windows, your eyes scanning over the city as the phone rings.

“Back so soon?”

You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face as his warm voice fills your ears, “You make it hard to stay away, I must admit. How are you, I’m not disturbing you am I? I mean, you’re probably a busy man.”

He laughs, a warm, deep laugh and your body tightens “I do take breaks, you know.” You giggle, a sudden nervous energy filling you, which is strange. You usually have no problem asking for things you want, “Don’t get all shy on me now, girl.”

“God,” you scoff, tittering again, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Come on, I thought we were passed all this? Do I need to come over there and help you relax again?”

Muscles you weren’t even sure you had, clench tight, “Are you free tonight, Mr. Rogers?”

“You know, I like that. All that Mr. Rogers stuff,” You hear him moving around, then a deep exhale, “I wish I were, doll, but I’ve got a date. Dinner and a function.”

You click your tongue, your shoulders dropping as a quick flash of disappointment washes through you. It doesn’t last long, the disappointment— hell, you make deals for a living, “I’ll double whatever she’s paying you.”

“Oooh,” he purrs, “Jealous, baby?”

“Not jealous,” you point out, “I just don’t like to wait, and I don’t like to lose. It’s not in my nature.”

“That’s very flattering, but I can’t do that. I have a reputation in this city.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “I’m sure you do.”

“I do! I can’t cancel on such short notice.”

“Then meet me for dessert.”

“Are you trying to kill me?” He laughs earnestly, “Listen, I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

You cover your face with your hand, laughing again, “Oh my god,” you sigh, “Well, fuck. I’ll get with Natasha and see if she can recommend another option for the evening...”

You hear him shuffle through the phone again, another deep sigh pushing out of his nose. He’s quiet for a beat as you tap your index finger against the edge of your phone, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Let me get back to you a little later tonight, alright? You and Ms. Romanov behave over there.”

“I told you I was shrewd.”

“You sure did. Wait up for me, babe.”

You smile big, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, “Will do.”

~~~

His knock sounds through the hotel room, making you tear your eyes from your laptop. You finish your email before pushing away from the small table and padding towards the door, your lace, burgundy kimono flailing with the air. You pull open the door and step to the side instinctively as Steve traipses through the threshold. You let it close with a soft click before you lean against it, crossing your legs and tilting your head as you find two crystal blue eyes on you.

The two of you blink at each other, eyes traveling over one anothers frames. He shrugs out of his black velvet jacket and tosses it over the back of the couch before he starts on his cufflinks. You watch in silence as he rolls up his sleeves, one by one, exposing his forearms just how you like— all veins and hair. His biceps bulge in the white button down, chest rippling underneath his black vest. He keeps flipping his eyes towards you, peeking through those lashes as he smiles.

He beckons you with his index finger and without hesitation, you’re moving towards him, pushing away from the door with your hands. Once you’re within range, he reaches for you, wrapping his long arm around your waist to pull you into him. Laughter bubbles up in your chest as you crash against him, his lips capturing yours in a flurry of kisses.

His hands push over your ass, squeezing your flesh before his palms push up and down your hips, “You look beautiful.” He says softly, his eyes drifting down your matching burgundy and navy bra and panties

You toss your braids over your shoulder before placing your hands back on his chest, “Thank you. How was your dinner?”

“Filling,” he smiles, “But I left room for dessert.”

“Well,” you start, pulling out of his grasp and moving back towards the table, “Hopefully you like chocolate.”

You spin on the balls of your feet to face him again, holding up a small plate with a large piece of chocolate cake. You smile as he laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets as he steps up to you, leaning down just a tad to take a whiff of the freshly baked German chocolate cake. He opens his mouth, flicking those big blue eyes up to yours again, waiting patiently. You pluck the fork that’s dug into the spongy cake and cut off a small piece before placing it at his lips.

He takes it slowly, keeping his eyes on you as he slides his tongue along the bottom of the fork, sucking the cake into his mouth. He chews it carefully, closing his eyes as he hums in satisfaction, licking his lips, “That is good.”

You pop a piece into your mouth, agreeing with his sentiments, “Mmhmm, this is really good.”

Cutting off another piece, you slide it into your mouth, closing your eyes and moaning again. You feel his gaze, drifting down your chest and stomach, down your legs and then back up again. It feels nice— having his full attention. You don’t intend to go without it for the rest of your stay in L.A. While waiting for him, you came up with the perfect solution— your greatest deal yet.

With a gentle flutter, your eyes are open again, finding his staring back into yours. A flush of red seeps into his cheeks and lips, down his neck as his eyes drop to your chest quickly.

“Something the matter?” You ask coolly.

He shakes his head slowly, sucking his teeth, “Rethinking my decision to have dinner, that’s all.”

A smile quirks onto your lips, “A man has to eat, Mr. Rogers.”

“I can survive on chocolate cake and champagne.”

“Not for too long; unless…” your words drift away with ease as you step away from him again, grabbing your phone and heading towards the bedroom.

The soft click of his Christian Loubotin slip ons against the marble floor greets your ears as he follows. You point the fork towards your champagne glass still sitting on the table but keep walking, passing through the threshold of the sprawling bedroom and plopping onto the equally big bed. He enters moments later, hands full of a champagne glass and bottle. The mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge, right next to you, where he watches you chew on another piece of the rich cake intently, his gaze only leaving to top off the bubbly, golden liquid.

Steve waits until you pause to pass the square champagne flute your way, thick fingers brushing along your thin, manicured ones. That strong gaze stays on you as you sip, a lopsided grin pinching his cheek, slow blinks until you hand the flute back and cut into the cake once more.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

He clears his throat at your sudden aloof demeanor, “Don’t be coy, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

He laughs, “Maybe a spanking will help rejog your memory.”

You cut your eyes towards him, inhaling sharply at the notion, “Do you charge extra for that?”

“Only for naughty girls.”

“Let me grab my purse, then.”

You throw your legs over the side of the bed to stand playfully, but he catches your calf with his palm and gently rearranges you on the bed. He takes the fork from your fingers and digs it into the half eaten cake before bringing it to your lips.

“Answer me, please.”

You accept his offering slowly as your body constricts at the firm tone of his voice. You bat your eyes while you chew before slipping your hand down his wrist and forearm, stroking gently, “I was just thinking that you could possibly survive off of chocolate and champagne if that someone indulging you is also offering other vital nutrients.”

His eyes squint as he goes for another piece of cake, this time eating the bite himself, “Ah,” he says after a minute or two, his eyes towards the ceiling as he works it over in his mind, “You’re saying you’d also like to be my dinner.”

“Precisely. I mean, it doesn’t really make sense to leave one restaurant after the main course just to go to another for dessert.”

“It is timely; and, as you know, my time is extremely valuable.” He nods slowly, “My clients are a demanding bunch.”

You smile, “And don’t like to share.”

Steve pushes in close, brushing his lips against yours just to tease. He drops his face and nuzzles into you, the soft hair of his beard caressing the sensitive flesh of your neck before his lips start to nip and nibble.

“So you are jealous.”

The husky fullness of his voice sends a targeted missile to your core— your heart skipping a beat as the air freezes in your lungs. The feeling sinks right to your bones. A devilish hand slips along your bare stomach and around your hip to squeeze, before pulling you closer. A pink, velvet tongue presses against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sliding up to your ear before he plants gentle, gentle kisses.

“How are we going to solve this problem?” He whispers, teeth nibbling at your earlobe.

“Mmm,” you hum, “Maybe we should talk when you aren’t so full. I’m a woman of class— I don’t eat leftovers.” Your sentence ends in a whisper as you lean up and get right next to his ear.

His chuckle is deep, vibrating through you. He takes a breath, his chest puffing up, straining his shirt and vest before he pushes it out slowly, “I still have two hands and a mouth.”

“I don’t know where those have been either.”

“Well then why don’t you give me a bath? That way you can be assured I’m clean.” He stands, extending his hand towards you, “Maybe I can work up a second appetite.”

Steve whisks you into the bathroom, only dropping your hand to start the bath. You lean against the long counter, crossing your legs as you watch him undress. He takes his time of course, flicking those eyes up at you every now and again as he sheds the rest of his Tom Ford suit, taking the time to fold it up and set it aside. Your eyes can’t help but drift, down that chest and hard stomach, over the smattering of coarse, dark blonde hair at his lower stomach, right to his thick, long cock.

“I usually make clients pay before letting them ogle me,” he winks, “You’re getting a freebie. Come.” He beckons again, curling his index finger towards you.

“Oh?” you purr, pushing away from the counter and sauntering to him, “Why am I so lucky to get such a perk?”

Steve inhales deep again as he slides his hands underneath your kimono at the shoulders, pushing it right off, “I like you.”

“You barely know me.”

He spins you around, fingers unhooking your bra before he crushes his chest to your back, “I have a feeling that’s going to change.” He whispers, pressing his cheek against yours as he stares at you through the mirror.

He pushes his hands over your hips, fingers curling around the strings of your thong, slipping it down your thighs. He bends to lift each leg, pulling the undergarment from you and tossing it atop his pile of clothes. A large hand encases yours and moves you to the edge of the tub, keeping a tight hold as you step into the hot water.

“My phone, please?” you ask sweetly as you settle down, resting your back against the porcelain.

Steve disappears momentarily only to return with your phone and another flute of champagne. He sits the items on the edge of the tub and slips into the opposite end, grabbing your feet and placing them against his chest. He lifts your right leg and starts pressing his thumbs into the bottom of your foot, rubbing firm circles, smiling slowly when you moan. Grabbing your phone, you thumb through your music before Prince fills the bathroom.

“I thought I was supposed to give you a bath?”

“We’ll get to that,” he says easily, lifting your toes to his lips, kissing them softly, “I want to hear this plan of yours.”

You pull your foot from his grasp and reach for your loofah and shower gel before pulling on his wrist to get him to move towards you. Steve slides between your legs as you separate them, wrapping them around his waist as he lays against your chest. You dip the loofah into the water, letting it soak it up before you squeeze it over his chest. A smile and a laugh bubble from you when you start to wash his chest as low groans rumble through his chest.

You push him up to sweep the soap over his shoulders and back, admiring the smooth canvas of tanned skin. He relaxes easy, muscles cooling and calming under your fingers, his breaths getting deep and long. The length of his body captivates you as you push the sudsy loofah over his bicep and down his arm, not able to reach his wrist without straining.

“You alright back there?”

“Shut up,” another giggle pushes through your lips, “You know, my legs are forty four inches from hip to toe, so that means you have eighty eight inches wrapped around you right now and you’re still longer than I am.” You kiss the tiny spot just underneath his ear, “Your mama fed you well.”

“She was a good woman, my mama. Hell of a cook.”

“Was?”

He sighs deeply as he runs his hands up and down your legs, “She died, a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, “That’s the meaning of life, right? You live, you love, you lose. I was lucky to have been able to take care of her until the end, some people don’t get that.” He tips his head up to yours, his eyes searching your face, “But that’s enough about me. How was your day?”

“Long,” you smile, anchoring your left hand in the middle of his chest as you continue to push the loofah around his body, “I couldn’t close my deal, so it looks like I’ll be in Los Angeles indefinitely.”

“We’re not that bad, you’ll fit right in.”

“You’re not a Los Angelean,” you tease, poking him gently, “I can hear that Brooklyn in you, no matter how hard you try to hide it.”

His laughter fills the bathroom, making you smile wide. It’s a nice sound, his laugh. It’s also nice knowing you can pull such a genuine response from him— the slight distance he’s worked so hard to build over the years slowly starting to slip away.

“I miss New York sometimes. I haven’t been back since—” he cuts the words off, but you know what he was going to say. He clears his throat, visibly catching himself slipping and tenses, trying to regain his control, “I’m sure this news has something to do with you wanting to be my dinner and dessert?”

“Yes, so,” you start, clearing your throat as well, “If it isn’t obvious, I quite enjoyed my night with you, and I’m sure you’ve picked up on the fact that I hate to share.”

“Only child, huh?”

“Shush,” you slap at him, “I don’t want to have to wait my turn for you, and I’m much too active, if you catch my drift, to go days between having you.”

He nods slowly, “I’m with you.”

“I’ll have business dinners and such, actually I’m attending a polo match on Saturday and I um, well, I’d like you to be… mine… while I’m here. Be at my every beck and call.” You click your tongue, “You know, like an employee of sorts.”

You peer at the side of his face as he sucks his teeth, nodding slowly, hands still dragging along and squeezing your legs, “That’s an idea, isn’t it?” he turns his head towards you, “You’re a very attractive woman, you could have anybody you want, for free. Ms. Romanov to start.”

“She talks about me?” you gasp, giggling a little, biting your lip, “But I can’t flaunt her around the way I want to, we’re technically working together, imagine if HR gets a whiff. No, I’d like a professional, although if you don’t mind, we could invite Ms. Romanov over to play every now and again.”

“Whew,” Steve chuckles, pecking your lips quickly, “I like the sound of that. Well, if you’re talking indefinitely, it’s gonna cost ya.”

You nod, “Of course. We’re both business people, we can work this out.”

He pulls in another breath, blinking towards the opposite walls, “That sounds lovely, and I’m flattered but,”

“Steve,” you whine, “Come on, you’re not even thinking about it.”

“I have dates lined up already.”

“Cancel them.”

“I can’t do that,” you scoff, “I can’t! Once you head back to New York, I’ll be the one dealing with a horde of angry women— if they’ll even want to see me again!”

“Okay,” you cut him off, “I’ll let you finish out your week. How’s that? Then, starting Saturday, you’re mine until my deal is closed.”

“That could be a month, or more.”

“It could be a day,” you shrug, “Name your price, I’ll pay it either way.” He grows silent, “The uncertainty makes you the real winner here.”

You walk your fingers up and down his chest, nuzzling against his cheek and wet beard as he thinks it over, “Let’s do some math,” you say after a while, grabbing your phone, “You charge fifteen hundred a night, right?”

“Yeah, but you want twenty four hours a day, and you want to show me off like some boy-toy,” he smiles, wiggling his eyebrows, “Price goes up.”

“Say it.”

He knocks his head around a few times, “Twelve thousand a week.”

“Fifteen hundred times seven is ten thousand and change, and even so, that alludes to you having a date every night of the week— which I doubt. Try again.”

“Fine, nine.”

“Five thousand a week,” you counter, “And I’ll pop for dinner on nights I don’t have a business engagement.”

“Eight thousand and I won’t charge you for threesomes with Ms. Romanov, which, I can easily talk her into.”

You laugh, “That’s not fair, we’ll both be enjoying those threesomes with Natasha. Six thousand, threesomes included,” you wink playfully, “You can stay here while I’m at work, and you can use up my thousand dollars a day per diem. The hotel has a spa, a gym, a world renowned five star chef in the twenty four hour restaurant— you can book a masseuse everyday for god sakes.”

Steve sucks his teeth, “Seventy five hundred.”

“Sixty five hundred.”

He smiles, “Seven thousand. You pay upfront, every Monday, and no refunds— no matter when your deal closes.”

You grab your phone, flipping over to your cash app. His phone vibrates in his pant pocket as you turn the face towards him, the seventy five hundred dollar transaction still lighting up the screen.

“A tip?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at the extra money.

“For humoring me. We got a deal, Mr. Rogers?”

He stands, water falling off his body as he steps out and grabs one of the fluffy, white towels, “Let’s fuck on it.”

You smile wide.

“You know,” he starts, wrapping your shoulders with the towel as you stand, “I would have stayed for five.”

You wiggle your eyebrows, “I would have paid twelve.”

~~~

It’s been a little over a week since your deal with Steve was struck, and the two of you have fallen into quite a lovely little routine. You’ve already gotten used to falling asleep on his chest, his long arms wrapped around your middle. Waking up at random times in the night to find him rutting into you softly, his warm breath on the back of your neck, hot lips pressed against your shoulder, fingers digging into your hips.

The two of you get along well— having dinner together every night, laughing and talking aimlessly whether it’s down in the restaurant or curled up on the couch, you in Steve’s lap as a random show plays in the distance (not that you’re ever paying attention to it). He’s a charmer, becoming an instant hit with the businessmen and women at the polo match and business dinner you were invited to. He looks good on your arm, and you like having him there.

Waking up with Steve is also fun. You currently stand in the bathroom, brushing your teeth as CNN plays in the embedded TV in the long mirror. There’s a shift in the reflection of the bed, Steve rolling over and letting out a deep sigh as he drifts back to sleep. Blinking back towards yourself, you glance down at your phone, tapping it to illuminate the time. You’ve got a few minutes to spare.

You rinse your mouth quickly and pad back into the bedroom, pulling the white sheets away from his naked body. The mattress dips under your knees as you climb onto it and place your hands on his thighs, raking your painted fingernails down his flesh. You knead the muscles, squeezing gently as you massage each thigh, working your way up from his knees. Within minutes, he’s growing, cock twitching before towering up, the light from the bathroom helping cast its shadow over his stomach.

There’s a quick sound from him, a half grunt, half moan, and you can’t help but smile— you’ve learned he’s a light sleeper. You sink your warm mouth over the head of his cock, your tongue swishing and teasing his slit. He gasps, and it sends a quick shiver down your spine, your pussy constricting as you push down his length, taking him all in.

You only bob your head a few times before his hips start to join in, pushing up into your mouth gently. Soft little moans choke up in his throat. Breaths hitching before he squeaks, his body twitching with each pass of your tongue. Hums vibrate through his throat and chest as he licks his lips and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip— a deep red flushing through his fair skin.

Each tiny sound from him, long hisses, desperate pants, quick, sharp whines as you work him over, sends jolts through your own body, your pussy wet and achy, stomach tight. But you have an early Zoom meeting, and time is slipping away. You reach for his hands and place them on your head as you slow down, giving him a clear signal.

He slips one of his hands down your cheek, rubbing his thumb gently against your skin to get you to peek up at him. You nod quickly, and not a second goes by before he grabs a handful of your braids and fucks hard up into your awaiting mouth. You moan with him as he forces your head down with his hands, his hard, long cock slipping down your throat.

Tears slip out of the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks, spit and cum bubbling out of your mouth as he fucks your face. Steve leans up to watch you take him, his hips still grinding hard.

“Tha’s right, baby,” he slurs, pushing out heavy breaths, “You take my cock so good, baby. That’s s’good, sugar. That mouth is so fucking pretty around my cock.”

Your heart leaps in your chest at his praise, the stroking of your ego making your body clench. You keep your nails dug into his thighs as he fucks into your messy mouth, lips flushed red, swollen and slippery. Steve whines loud, his octave high, the sound bitten off and broken as he slams his head back on the pillow, his mouth falling open. His hips pulse as he nearly cries, your scalp burning as he grips your head and hair.

You fight the urge to touch yourself, wanting to keep the delicious ache with you throughout the day. Steve lifts his head to make eye contact with you again, his face strained and broken as he whimpers, “Fuck, I’m gonna co— ,” he groans, loud and drawn-out, “That mouth is perfect. Ugh, I’m gonna paint that pretty mouth with my cum, baby— ah!”

He freezes suddenly and then pushes his hips upward, pushing his rigid cock deep before he spills, your warm, rough, pink tongue helping to coax him. He slams his head back down on the pillow, chest and muscles tense hard as each pass of his orgasm grows stronger, his spurts long and hot.

When his hips stop thrusting, he softens into the mattress, his limbs damn near liquid. His eyes flutter as he drags in deep, ragged, audible breaths, each one shaky and wet. You clean him up with your tongue, bobbing your head again, gripping his hips as filthy little noises and sweet cries squeak out of his throat. His body jerking and jutting. Once you’re finished, you kiss his tummy and smile before pushing off the bed.

“Where you goin’?” he mumbles, reaching for you as move back into the bathroom, “Hey, come’re”

You spin around to wink at him before closing the door a little to finish getting ready for your day.

“That’s not fair,” he shouts, making you giggle, “Fuck.”

~~~

One Zoom meeting turns into two, turns into three and beyond. You jot down notes, shaking your head slightly in agreement as you grab your phone, calculating a few numbers before you recite them for the rest of the group. It’s kind of amazing how you all deal with millions of dollars like it’s absolutely nothing.

You’ve had your nose so stuck in your laptop and phone all morning, you haven’t had a chance to pay any attention to the tall blonde traipsing around the place, shooting you little looks and quick smiles as you work, in hopes to garner a glance. It hasn’t worked so far; until now that is, as he saunters out of the bedroom after his trip to the gym and a late shower, chest bare, grey sweats hanging low on his lips.

Water still beads on his shoulders, a few strays slipping down his pecs into the dark hair that covers his chest. You cut your eyes towards him and slide them with him as he moves into the dining area, watching as he bends over to pluck a bottle of water out of the mini fridge. He stands back tall, rolling his broad shoulders a bit before he tips his head and guzzles the cool liquid, Adam's apple bobbing.

“Hello? You still with us?”

You snap your eyes back towards your laptop, a smirking Natasha Romanov staring back at you, “Sorry, I think my, uh, connection got a little wonky,” you lie, sending your eyes quickly back towards the chuckling Steve, “What were you saying, Ms. Romanov?”

“Scott Lang, our other CEO is flying in next week from Chicago, he wants to set a meeting with you but was wondering if you could carve out sometime to call him beforehand. He just wants a run down of the numbers you’re proposing.”

“Sure, I’ll pencil him into my schedule later today, if that’s okay? Around three?”

Natasha taps on your phone, “Perfect, looks like he’s free. Mr. Prym also would like to see you and Mr. Parker again to go over the construction plans of the possible new building.”

“Okay,” you nod, turning your attention to your phone to text Peter, “I’ll get back to you whenever Peter shoots me his schedule. He’s kinda busy though, so it might not be until next week.”

“That’s alright.” she answers absentmindedly, “Clint? Do you have anything for her?”

“Nope, I’m good I think.” The short blonde says.

“Nick? Wanda?”

After a chorus of no’s, you all say your goodbyes before you end the call, returning to your notebook, forgetting all about the burly man stalking towards you. Your phone buzzes, and you grab it up, skimming over Peter’s text message before you respond quickly, setting up a quick call with him for the following day and asking him to share his calendar with you. A soft ding sounds from your computer and you’re immediately turning back towards it, bouncing slightly when a weight pushes into the couch next to you.

The taps of the keys on your keyboard are followed by the swoosh of your outbound email before you grab your pen and start scribbling again. A constantly buzzing phone, more taps, more swooshes, and your gentle, random hums are all sounds you’re used to; not so much your sudden roomie. He’s bored and slightly annoyed by your snubs all morning— also wanting a little payback for your shenanigans so early in the morning.

You haven’t even noticed that he’s now completely naked.

You lean up a little, squinting as you study the growth chart on your screen, your fingers playing with your bottom lip as your mind crunches the information. A gasp fills your chest as you’re lifted from your spot and settled right onto his lap. Before you can protest, he shimmies the short shorts covering your lower half down your thighs and over your knees, and pushes your white satin panties to the side.

Steve sweeps your box braids over your shoulder as the head of his cock pushes through your folds. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, that soft beard brushing against your jaw as he rocks his hips slowly, teasing your clit and opening with his dick. He grazes his fingers over your thighs before he cups your hot sex in his palm and uses his fingers to spread you open.

With a firm press, he slips inside of you, pushing until he bottoms out. He wiggles his hips, just so you can feel him moving inside of you before he grabs your laptop and places it back in your lap, “Don’t let me disturb you.”

You squirm on top of him, your hips rolling slightly as he starts to play with your clit, rubbing slow circles against your soft, wet skin. Your mind is blank as you stare at the computer screen, breath light and choppy, body tightening around his rigid cock. You want him to move, to thrust up into you real nice and slow while he thumbs and pulls at your nipple, breathing hot, hushed words into your ear. Trying to coax him, you wiggle again, pushing down onto him but he doesn’t relent— he just turns on the tv and settles back into the couch, throwing his arm over the back like you’re not even sitting on his dick right now.

He continues to rub your clit lazily, keeping his eyes on Sports Center as your body tenses every now and again, tiny, needy moans vibrating your vocal chords. You try to focus on the numbers and emails in front of you, but your mind is mush— a dull ache throbbing in the pit of your stomach, your teased clit starting to sting from his gentle pressure.

Natasha’s name flashes across your laptop, sending a sudden strike of fear through you, heart dropping to your feet, “Steve—”

“Answer it,” he says gently, “I’ll be quiet.”

“She’ll see you!” You hiss.

He just chuckles in return, “Not if you stay still, she won’t. Answer it.”

Your fingers tremble over the mouse pad, the arrow hovering over the accept button. Steve reaches around and taps the button before relaxing back into the couch, sinking lower into it as Natasha’s smiling face pops up on your screen.

“Hi,” she greets happily, her chin in her palm, a pair of red, thick rimmed glasses over her eyes, “Are you busy?”

“Um,” you start, clearing your throat as your voice quivers, “Not, um, not really. What’s, uh, what’s—” you grunt when Steve finally thrusts into you.

Natasha’s eyes squint as she tilts her head, “You okay?”

Smiling quickly, you nod, “Yeah, sorry. What’s up? Does Mr. Prym need something else from me?”

“Oh, no, this isn’t work related.” She laughs lightly, “We’ve missed each other in the office this past week, I was just wondering if you were doing okay, see how L.A. is treating you.”

Steve shifts underneath you, pushing his hips hard. You tense hard, muscles quivering around him as you dig your nails into his thigh, trying to muffle the squeak that rises in your throat.

“It’s great,” you strain— high pitched and shaky, “It’s um, I l-like it here.”

“Have you seen Steve lately?”

Your eyes widen when Steve snakes his free hand up to your chest, grabbing a handful of your left tit. You turn the laptop away from you quickly as Steve leans up, resting his chin on your shoulder, another deep rumble of laughter falling from his lips.

He centers the screen on the two of you again, kissing your shoulder as Natasha feins shock, “She’s seen quite a bit of me lately.”

Embarrassment flushes through you— heat rising in your cheeks, but Steve rolls his hips slowly and jossles you on his lap and you can’t help but sound, a wet little whimper as he thumbs your nipple underneath your shirt, “S-Steve.”

“It’s okay honey,” he whispers, kissing your jaw, his eyes cutting back towards the laptop as Natasha leans back in her chair, teeth dug into her bottom lip as a pretty pink blush blooms across her cheeks, “Little Natasha has a voyeur kink,” he pushes his mouth right next to your ear, his octave dropping, “She loves watching me fuck pretty girls like you,” he lifts your top up, exposing your see-through bra as he turns his attention back to the screen, “Don’t you, baby?”

“Are you fucking her right now?” Natasha breathes, her voice thick and deep, “I wanna see.”

Steve sets the laptop on the glass table in front of you, pushing it back until your lower halves are exposed— his cock rooted deep in your cunt. You hear Natasha groan, watch as she starts to drag the pads of her fingers across her chest as she sways gently back and forth in her swivel chair.

“Does she feel good, Steve?” She asks.

“Oh,” Steve purrs, lifting your bra slowly so your tits fall out one by one, bouncing softly, “She is so tight, Nat. So warm. You’d fall in love with this pussy.”

You fall back against his chest, turning your head slightly to nuzzle into the side of his face as he gropes your tits in his massive hands, squeezing hard as he pinches your nipples between his index fingers and thumbs. Languid thrusts start to push you up and down, the fingers on your pussy spreading you open for Natasha as she stands, wiggling her hips to hike her skirt up.

She sits back in her chair and lifts her left leg, resting her foot against the edge of her desk. Her thin fingers push through her slick, wet folds as she watches Steve fuck you slow, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. You open your eyes just enough to watch her unbutton her blouse, slipping her hand in to pull her left breast out, exposing her pierced, pink nipple.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan quick, before hissing as Steve pushes in and out, humming soft as he starts to let it go to his head, “You’ve been hiding those from me.”

“You can see them in person soon,” she purrs, her head falling back on the chair as she pushes two fingers into her cunt, “I can’t wait to feel your tongue on my tits.”

You tense at her words, Steve cursing as your muscles squeeze around him. He bites down on your shoulder as he starts to fuck into you faster. He rolls your nipples in his fingers as the sound of your skin slapping against his gets louder— sharper. Natasha blinks slowly through hooded eyes, her sweet mouth falling open as her hips buck, one hand slapping at her reddened clit and puffy, slick folds, the other pumping in her slit.

A shudder races up your spine— hips jerk unexpectedly, digging down into Steve’s, “Sugar’s getting close, Nat,” he breathes, sliding his hand back to your clit, “God, I wish you could feel how tight she’s squeezing me. Hear how wet she is?”

You should be embarrassed; how spread open you are, the wet, filthy squeaks and squishes of your cunt as he ruts into you. But watching Natasha as she fucks herself to you, hearing her mewl and curse, her fair, smooth skin blushing red while she loses herself. It’s all obscene. Sleazy; but that’s why you like it.

“Oh, make her come, Steve,” Natasha groans, her tongue slipping out to lick at her nipple, “I want to see that pussy quiver.”

Steve wraps his arm around your middle, holding you tight, breathing into your ear as his hips go into overdrive. He fucks into you fast and hard, bouncing you on his lap. He shoves his fingers into your mouth, hissing and groaning as you suck them. The sweet whimpers and whines of Natasha make you shiver, the sight of her hips thrashing and the sun glinting off of the diamond studded bar nipple rings accenting her perfect tits, send you right over the edge.

You throw your head back as your orgasm blooms, spreading through your veins like fire. You whail as you slam your eyes shut, Steve dropping his wet fingers to slap your cunt, teasing your clit as it jumps with contractions.

“Oh, God, yes,” Natasha pants, her fingers rubbing quick, hard circles against her clit, hips pulsing, “Yeah, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna... come, baby— you’re so fucking perfect, sweet girl.”

“You are perfect, honey,” Steve moans into your ear as wave after wave of your orgasm washes over you, “That tight pussy feels so good around me. So sweet— that’s why I call you honey.” He wraps his fingers around your neck, “You want me to come in her, Nat? Huh? You wanna see my hot cum spilling out of her?”

“Yes!” She cries, hunched over as she thrashes her hand back and forth, her mouth hanging, “Yes, Steve.”

As if on cue, he grunts deep, his cock jumping as he starts to spurt. He keeps a tight grip around your neck as he fucks hard with each spit, the hot ribbons coating your slick muscles. He pulls out of you unceremoniously, cantering your hips to give Natasha the full view of his silk dribbling out of you, your spasming, tight cunt pushing it out.

Natasha comes hard, her moans growing louder and higher as the coil finally snaps. Her tits tremble with the aftershocks, her hips jutting upward randomly as she creams. Her fingers slow as her eyes close, her head tilts back and resting against the back of her swivel chair as she licks her lips. Deep, smooth breathes swelling her chest as her hips come to rest.

Steve kisses you deep— tongue pushing into your wet warmth to massage the roof of your mouth. He sucks on your top lip, smacks on you loud as he palms your thighs before kneading gently. Smiling against his lips, you let your body go limp; melt right into his burly chest and stomach, his cock resting against your balmy, used, sticky cunt.

“Goodness, me,” Natasha purrs, a sated, soft smile on her lips, “That was sweet. We really need to get together now.” She laughs.

You giggle, pushing your fingers into Steve’s hair, “Steve let me work threesomes into his base price, so you’re welcome any time, babe.”

“Oh, he did, did he? That’s not fair Steven Grant, you nickel and dime the shit out of me.”

Steve shrugs, “What can I say, she’s a better business woman than you.”

“I can see that. I hate to come and run, but I need to freshen up. I have a meeting with Hank in a half hour. Maybe we can all have dinner Friday night?”

“I’ll make reservations. The restaurant in the hotel is fabulous.”

She winks, her lips curled in a smile, “Text me.”

The connection ends and you fall back into Steve’s chest, brushing your cheek against his, “Now that your debauchery has ended, can I get back to work now?” you laugh.

“Nope,” he answers quickly, slapping your laptop shut and lifting you with him as he stands, “It’s lunch time.”

“Steve,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you back into the bedroom, “I have so much to do. I’m waiting for the architect to call me back, I have a presentation I have to put together—”

“Numbers to crunch, businesses to buy, blah, blah, blah,” he drops you onto the mattress and grabs the menu from the nightstand before plopping down next to you, “They got sushi today, yummy.”

Work becomes an afterthought. You and Steve lay in your nakedness, eating slowly as you stare at each other, rogue fingers reaching out and sliding along hips and arms and tummies. Lingering blue eyes skip along your face and body, his deep laugh rattling every bone, every muscle, every vein you possess. He opens up a little more, talking aimlessly about he and Natasha’s friendship, how they met through his friend, and fellow escort Bucky Barnes.

“Bucky,” you lay on your back, leg bent at the knee as it sways back and forth slowly, Steve curled around you, “Even his name is kinky.”

He nuzzles into your neck, exhaling deep as he rests his eyes. His long arm is slung over your chest, legs tangled with yours, “He’s a good guy. I might let you meet him one day.”

“Might?”

“I don’t want him stealing you away from me.”

The words hang over you like a cloud. You blink slowly up at the ceiling as they, the words, swirl around you, filling your chest and head. Maybe you’re thinking too much into it, putting too much weight on them. He probably says this to all of his clients while in a post sex haze. You’re being silly, you don’t even know this man… but you want to.

That scares you.

After only a week, you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. What started out as just needing some company every now and again, has turned into looking forward to seeing him after work. Not being able to wait until you're across a dinner table from him, being squeezed against his body while in the tub, not wanting to pry yourself out of his arms in the morning. There was a time where you thought nothing of work— buying, selling, making money, climbing the corporate ladder— you ate and breathed your work.

Now?

All you want to do is eat sushi and nap the days away, with Steven Grant Rogers wrapped around you like a blanket.

~~~

Steve glances over his shoulder at your sleeping body as he sits on the edge of the bed. He stands slowly, running his hand through his hair as he moves towards the double doors and out onto the balcony. Night is falling over L.A., the sky dark as the moon and stars start to shine through. He leans over the concrete columns as he thumbs through his phone, casting his eyes out over the streets as he taps on a name.

“Steve,” a deep voice says, “Shit, I thought you died, man. Where have you been?”

“Sorry Buck, I’ve been with a client all week.”

“All week? Wow, big spender.”

“She’s from New York, in town on business.”

“That sounds fuckin’ awesome. Where are you?”

“The Waldorf Astoria, Presidential suite.” Steve turns, tilting his head as he watches you sleep.

“Oh, shit! You lucky bastard!”

Steve continues to stare at you, blinking slowly as you roll over onto your side, “You know, she hasn’t been out on the balcony once since she’s been here,” He says absentmindedly, nibbling on his bottom lip, “She’s afraid of heights.”

“O-kay?” Bucky chuckles as he draws out the word, slightly confused, “Why do you sound so sad? What’s going on?”

“I’m breaking rule number one.” Steve answers softly, dropping his head.

“Steve,” Bucky warns, his octave dropping.

“I don’t want her to go.” Steve answers softly, “I’m— fuck, I think I’m falling for her, Buck.”

~~~

Your phone vibrates softly against the couch, illuminating in the darkness as a text from Natasha slides in.

Good news! Hank’s ready to sign the deal first thing tomorrow morning!

#marveldiversitychallenge #steve rogers #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #you x steve rogers #reader x steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve x you #you x steve #avintagekiss24

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yslkook · 4 years ago

Text

just like magic

pairing: house husband!seokjin x wife!reader summary: some moments of bliss with you and seokjin in your married life together. word count: 11k warnings: cursing, alcohol, smut (oral f receiving, penetrative sex), suggestive content a/n: some of these moments are inspired by ariana grande songs, enjoy <3 ty to @cutechim for reading some of this!! AND THANK YOU TO HANA FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL BANNER IM IN TEARS

ONE. pov.

The faint golden glow of the early morning barely touches Jin as he rolls over to press his lips to your shoulder, where your sleep shirt has slipped down a bit. You’re still seemingly asleep, soft snores leaving your parted lips and your alarm hasn’t gone off yet.

It always goes off at the most opportune times.

He presses himself closer to you, molding his hips to yours and shoving his hand up your faded purple sleep shirt to palm your tits. You sigh happily, pushing back against him in your sleep.

Jin knows you’re close to waking up, if the quickness of your breaths is any indicator. You smile with your eyes still closed as he drops feathery kisses to your cheeks, your chin, your neck.

“I know you’re awake,” Jin rolls his eyes, his voice hoarse from just waking up.

“I’m sleeping,” You mumble, turning towards him and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. Jin only laughs airily, dipping his head for a kiss to your lips.

“Wake up then,” Jin breathes. You can feel his half hard cock tucked in his boxers against your thigh already and you hum. It only takes a simple brush for you to buck your hips towards him, centering your bare core to his cock.

You hadn’t bothered with panties last night, after he had fucked you back to sleep. Despite the faint ache in between your legs, you wrap your leg around his hip and pull him on top of you.

“Thought you were sleeping.”

“My annoying husband woke me up,” You say, eyes still slick with sleep. Arousal rolls in your belly when he grinds into you lightly.

The pink haze of sleep begins to slip away as Jin kisses you deeply, with more urgency than before.

“Had to give you something to remember me by today,” Jin whispers, “It’s Monday, after all.”

“Don’t remind me,” You groan, rubbing your eyes, “This week is gonna fucking suck, baby.”

“Shh,” Jin says, pressing a finger to your lips, “We have, like, thirty minutes before you have to start getting ready for work.”

“Better make it worth it, babes,” You laugh and he squeezes your thighs. He raises his head, looking at you like you’re a meal and like you’re his queen.

His lips are heated against your skin, your giggles turning into soft moans of his name quickly.

“Jin, baby,” You say, voice sounding muffled to your ears, “I have to be at work early-”

“Can’t even appreciate my wifey’s sexy bod,” Jin grumbles and you swat his shoulder, “God, I could eat this pussy out all day-”

“Saying sexy like that isn’t sexy,” You complain, “And you’re not doing anything, you’re just breathing on my clit- gonna give me an embolism-”

One look from Jin, a kiss and a few rolls of your clit with his thumb has you wet against his fingers- the man, your husband of three years, knows your body even better than you know yourself. He knows you better than you know yourself.

His mouth slips over your inner thighs, his hands tight around your hips to hold you in place as you buck your hips impatiently for friction. Jin is so handsome in the morning (well, he’s handsome all the time), but something about the puffiness of his eyes and the pink of his cheeks from sleep always has your pussy fluttering.

Your husband of three years, and your boyfriend for six years before that- he always has your pussy fluttering and your heart soaring.

Jin swipes his fingers across your glossy folds, glistening just for him, and presses his mouth to your sensitive clit. His hands wander, squeezing your tits fondly, roaming over the hidden bites from the prior night easily. You widen your legs and carelessly throw them over his shoulders.

“Jin,” You whine, “I want you, stop teasing me-”

“‘M not,” Jin says, voice dripping with thick, honeyed desire, “I just, you know how much I love this pussy.”

“Yeah, you love my pussy more than you love me,” You tease, “Please-”

You cut yourself off with a sharp moan as his tongue flicks over your clit teasingly. Hooded eyes meet his dark eyes as his tongue delves deeper into your wet folds, and your thighs quiver almost instantly once he rubs your clit with his thumb.

You’re so sensitive. It’s how he likes you best. (He likes you sensitive, and he likes you in that tight dark green dress you’re planning on wearing to work today.)

Jin loves you in the morning, with the taste of the night before in between your legs. You end the night with him and start your morning with him- it’s all he wants. All he wants is something to remember him by during your inevitably busy days.

“I love you,” Jin mumbles, “My gorgeous girl. Sound so pretty when you cum in my mouth…”

He loves teasing you, loves making you beg for him. And this time is no different. A string of curses fly from your mouth, your back arching when you beg his name in broken noises.

“Good morning to me,” You giggle lazily, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Good morning to my pretty wifey,” Jin hums and you push him on his back, straddling his hips.

Yeah. It’s your favorite type of morning.

TWO. love language.

“It’s Friday,” Jin mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist as you pour two mugs of coffee for you both, “The weather outside is awful. You’ll get blown away, just stay home baby.”

You’re already dressed and ready to go into the office, eyeliner sharp and lipstick perfectly placed, but one look outside of the window has you reconsidering. You had already decided that you’d stay home and work from the dining table or the couch but you enjoy seeing Jin grovel a little too much. So you let him.

“When did you become a meteorologist,” You mutter, threading your fingers through his and squeezing.

Your calendar today is quite light. Only a few meetings, a few deliverables for you to provide. You’ve already decided that you’ll stay home and shower Jin with at much attention as you can, but he pouts against your neck.

“That’s the dream.”

“I thought the dream was being my husband.”

“That comes in a close second to being a meteorologist, and I think there’s a one hundred percent chance that you’ll be staying home today and giving me cuddles.”

You roll your eyes at him but can’t resist the smile that tugs at your lips. Turning in his arms and handing him a cup of coffee with a dash of milk and caramel coffee creamer, you lean forward for a kiss.

A crack of thunder sends you jumping in his arms and yelping, nearly dropping the mug to the floor but Jin grabs it before you can.

He knows you better than you know yourself.

“I’m staying home, baby,” You say, “It’s not worth it. And I have a light day today so maybe…” You trail a finger over the thick vein in his neck and over his chest with a sly grin.

“So maybe we can take a nap together at noon,” Jin finishes your sentence for you with a gleam in his eyes.

“...Or that.”

Working from the dining table whenever you worked from home made you feel close to Jin. He’d flit around you, pecking you with kisses or a squeeze of your shoulder whenever he passed you, or telling you to get up off your ass if you’ve been sitting too long. But mostly, you just enjoy his company and working from home always puts you in a good mood.

Even if you have a designated office in the cozy townhouse you’ve been living with Jin in for two years now, you prefer the dining table for work from home days. You do use the office, if you really need to. But those days are few and far between.

You have about an hour before you have to log in, so you decide to make breakfast for Jin while he waters the plants upstairs. Usually, it’s Jin making you breakfast- he always makes it a point to have breakfast with you before you leave for work.

You’re happy to have a man who doesn’t resent you for being the breadwinner, as your family and friends had cautioned you of years ago. You had scoffed at them then, as if they knew anything about you or Jin. He’s happy to support you and be your biggest cheerleader and you’re his biggest cheerleader.

You had met in college, studying the same discipline and where you were passionate about it, he wasn’t. He had such a passion for life that was refreshing, and he brought out the best in you. Jin made you laugh, he made you love, and you both just worked so well together. Even on your off days, you both just knew each other.

You cut your avocado egg toasts in half and pour a glass of mango pineapple smoothie (Jin’s favorite) for both of you.

“Hey, honey,” You call when he pokes his head around the corner and see his fluffy purple house slippers, “Breakfast is ready.”

Jin kisses you in appreciation, pulling you closer to him by your waist. “Girl of my dreams making me breakfast, huh?”

“Shut up,” You swat his chest, “It’s too gross to take Bomi out, right?”

“Yeah, my baby is still sleeping in her bed,” Jin says, yelping when you pinch his waist.

“Your baby?”

“Oh, fine, our baby,” Jin rolls his eyes, “Was gonna take her to see Jimin and baby Jia today. Fucking storm…”

“Maybe they can come over this weekend, when it passes,” You hum, “We can make those lemon bars she likes.”

“We can do brunch with them? Have some margaritas and mojitos,” Jin suggests, tugging your hand to join him at the breakfast bar.

“I’m sure Sunmi would appreciate that,” You reply.

You both look up to the ceiling when you hear Bomi trotting out of her bed and at the top of the stairs. You stand at the bottom with open arms and she bounds towards you eagerly, nuzzling you with her soft nose and licking you everywhere.

“Hi Bomi, baby,” You coo and scratch her head, “It’s raining outside, we can’t go to the dog park today. You can hang out with Mommy and Daddy inside.”

She only looks at you with big, light brown eyes and pants in excitement. She slides out of your arms and stands in front of Jin, only to jump and cuddle into his lap.

“You’re getting so big, Bomi,” Jin whispers, “Gonna tackle me over someday.”

“She could take you,” You tease and sit next to him, tickling Bomi’s jaw. You put some dog food into her bowl (that Jin made himself in his ceramics class that he took on a whim and also painted) and pour some water for her in her water bowl.

Bomi immediately jumps off to have her own breakfast. You can vividly remember when you and Jin had both fallen in love with her at the adoption shelter, almost three years ago now. She had seemed so scared, and you and Jin had approached her cautiously. You knew she had an instant connection (like you had, years ago) with Jin when she touched his paw and saw stars in his eyes.

You brought her home less than two weeks later, and she’s been your baby ever since.

Jin nudges your foot playfully. You nudge him back.

“Got a long day today?” Jin murmurs after a bite of avocado toast. You wipe away stray avocado with your thumb and lick it for yourself.

“Nah, should be done around two or three,” You reply. Jin beams at you and kisses your temple.

“Don’t let me keep you,” You say airily, “I know you like working out in the mornings. I put protein powder in your smoothie.”

He rolls his eyes. As if you could come in the way of his meticulously crafted routine. Today, he was planning on working on the story he was writing, working out, and making lunch and dinner. He would be doing a little more, if the weather wasn’t working against him.

Jin loves the flexibility of his life, honestly. He loves being able to do the things he loves, while you do the things you love. And if that means him not technically having a stable job, and you bringing home most of the money, that’s more than okay with him. Besides, you’ve both come a long way from any insecurities that that might have brought.

He loves that all of his joy for life also comes with you by his side.

That’s what over ten years of being together will do.

***

“Baby,” You call from the couch, “Come here. I miss you.”

Your meetings for the day have finished and you have finished the bulk of your work, leaving the majority of your day free to finish up loose ends and send a few emails. This week has been filled with many early mornings and late nights, leaving both you and Jin yearning for the weekend and for more time with each other.

He comes to you with wide, puppy eyes and you beckon him forward. “Sit with me, honey. Please?”

Jin leans towards you, chin on your shoulder and chest to your back as he watches you type away. Your shoulders instantly relax with his touch and the comforting scent of his rain scented shower gel. He’s still warm from his shower and he wraps an arm around your waist.

It’s your favorite place to be.

“Is that woman being annoying,” Jin asks, “The one on your project for that document change you gotta make?”

“Nah, she’s been out this week,” You mutter, “I gotta have a heart to heart with her next week and tell her to stop railroading me every chance she gets.”

“Damn you’re so sexy when you get all mean,” Jin shivers dramatically and you laugh against him.

“‘M not mean,” You reply absently, clicking ‘send’ on an email and messaging your boss to have a good weekend. Bomi has woken up from her nap and joins you both on the couch, curling in your lap and dwarfing over your laptop screen.

“Bomi,” You chuckle and rub her back, “Silly girl.”

She only looks at you with wide eyes, happy that she has your attention. It reminds you a little bit of how Jin looks at you when he catches your eye. Jin leans over and takes Bomi from you and cuddles here in his lap. He turns around so his back is pressed against yours and his legs outstretched the other way. The warmth of him against you is welcome as you finish up your emails and sign off for the weekend as quickly as you can.

“Okay,” You murmur, “‘M done with work. Wanna take Bomi out for a walk with me? Looks like the storm stopped for the most part…”

“Sure, maybe I’ll finally get my kiss in the rain.”

“Yeah, and we’ll both get pneumonia,” You chastise him, patting his cheek, “Has Jungkook been getting in your head lately? Mr. Romance over there.”

Jin gasps in offense, “More like I’m getting in his head. Everything he knows about romance is because of me.”

“Okay, baby. Whatever you say.”

THREE. honeymoon avenue.

“I have two weeks of vacation left,” You muse, running your hands through Jin’s hair, “We should go to Phuket. We’ve been meaning to for years…”

“They say November is the best time,” Jin replies, peering over to the computer. Where you’re currently looking up flights and hotels to Phuket.

“November is next week, Seokjin.”

“Okay, and? Spontaneity is the backbone of long-term relationships,” Jin says matter-of-factly and dodges the inevitable swat to his shoulder.

“I thought trust, love, and respect is the backbone of long-term relationships.”

“That too. But really, it’s the fact that my hot wife wants to take me, her even hotter husband on a romantic getaway-”

“We should go,” You murmur, already thinking about the clear, pristine waters and white, sandy beaches. Not to mention the food…

“Baby, will you text in the groupchat? Ask if anyone wants to go,” You say, bookmarking beaches and places to sightsee. You already have a growing list of hotels and AirBnb’s that you want to investigate further.

“Not everyone is as spontaneous as us, sweets,” Jin says, “Peasants.”

***

In the end, only you and Jin end up deciding to go to Phuket. It was too last minute for your friends, especially for your friends with young children.

It’s just you and Jin in Phuket for a week. You had decided to leave Bomi with the dog sitter, as she hated flying and was terrified of it.

By the time you both get settled in your Airbnb, you’re both bouncing off the walls with pent up energy.

Phuket isn’t ready for the storm that was you and Seokjin.

***

“Sweets, you ready for dinner?” Jin calls from the bedroom, leaning against the headboard of the bed.

“Five minutes!”

Jin rolls his eyes fondly, very well acquainted with how long it takes for you to get ready sometimes. Your eyeliner had to be just perfect, lipstick complimenting your eye makeup, your jewelry a statement but not obnoxious… The list goes on.

He scrolls on his phone impatiently, looking at the photos the dog-sitter sent of Bomi and then he lets his friends know what their plans were. They all excitedly ask for pictures and updates.

He’s already gotten quite tan since being here, and it’s only been four and a half days. Though most of the time during those four and a half days was spent at the beach, hiking, exploring, or sipping drinks at the beach bar.

Bliss. Seeing the way the sun glows on your skin and the way you beam at him without the stress of deadlines and responsibilities is a sight he’ll never tire of. If his photo album on his phone is anything to go by, it’s filled with candids of you and photos of you sprinkled in with the scenery and the food you’ve both been eating.

You’ll try anything once, and Jin will, too.

Five minutes go by.

“I’m hungry,” Jin whines, finally getting up and leaning against the doorframe. His throat goes a little dry when you look at him with wide eyes, in the middle of applying your false lashes.

“Two minutes, baby, I promise-”

“I should eat you instead,” Jin says, eyes raking over your figure brazenly. You’re wearing a tight red dress with thin straps, and a thin necklace that he had bought you for your most recent birthday sits around your neck.

“What a line,” You roll your eyes.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Jin says cockily, “Got you forever and always.”

“How romantic.”

***

You can’t deny the butterflies that you still get around Jin, especially when he looks at you like that over dinner. Like you’re the only thing in the entire world when his eyes are molten gold for you and you only.

You won’t deny that the way he calls you his wife in that low, raspy voice sends a rush of something curling in your belly. You’ll blame it on the third glass of sam song that you’ve had. Jin himself is on his third glass of mekhong. His ears and the apples of his cheeks are flushed red from the alcohol.

You want to pounce on him. Who does Seokjin think he is? His lips are bitten and a little red from chapstick. And from you kissing him before arriving at the restaurant for your reservation. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving you a few of his collarbones and the necklace around his neck.

Your face feels hot. It’s probably the alcohol. Jin knows that look on your face. The one where you’re impatient. The one where you just want him and want him and want him.

He’ll take care of you. He always will.

***

“My pretty wifey,” Jin murmurs, face buried in your neck as he rocks into you slowly. The hot, slow glide of his cock burns in the best way, leaving you sated and wanting more at the same time.

“My gorgeous girl,” Jin says and you whine, clenching around him. Your legs wrap around his waist and he groans, dotting your skin in kisses. He’s all around you, coating you in a pillowy haze. Your lipstick stains his lips, fading on his neck and his glistening chest.

“Can’t believe you did this for me,” He groans, fingers ghosting over your bare, sensitive pussy. (Yes, you’d gotten a wax before vacation. As it had been a while, and you wanted to see Jin’s reaction.)

“Fuck, Jin,” You sigh. You feel a little dazed, a little airy. “Feel so fucking good. You’re so… big, always feel so fucking good.”

Your clothes are strewn about in various corners of the Airbnb, both of you too hasty and impatient to get your hands on each other after dinner and a short walk on the beach. Honestly, you would’ve fucked him out on the beach if he allowed you to. The way the moonlight hit his eyes just made your brain shut off and think lewd thoughts of only him.

You’ve cum at least three times now, and Jin shows no signs of stopping. Truthfully, neither do you- you can keep up with him and he can keep up with you. It’s part of what’s made you both work so well.

“Good, baby?” Jin mumbles. He doesn’t give you time to answer before gathering you in his arms and sitting you up. Your tits are plastered to his chest, and you can’t help but snake a hand in between you both and playfully twist his nipple. The angle of his cock in you is deeper than before and you struggle to stave off the need to cum.

“Yeah,” You say faintly.

“What’s on the agenda tomorrow?” Jin asks quietly, slowing and stopping his movements. You whine again when he stops moving inside of you.

“Shh, baby,” Jin says, “Just wanna be with you like this. What’re we doing tomorrow?”

“Seriously?” You grunt, trying to get some friction on your clit but he halts your movements with a large hand on your hips. You pinch his nipple hard and he yelps. “You wanna talk about our itinerary tomorrow when you’re balls deep inside me-”

“Yeah, I gotta plan ahead,” Jin snorts.

“Um,” You mumble, trying to gain your wits about you, “The market. A-and the distillery, and then…”

“And then?” Jin purrs in your ear, nipping your earlobe.

“And then the elephant sanctuary. Maybe Bangla road a-at night,” You reply, pressing your face into his neck.

“Good girl,” Jin breathes and you whimper into his skin, “My smart, wonderful, amazing wifey-”

“Wanna be your wife forever,” The words slip out of your mouth without you meaning to, as they usually do. Something about Jin calling you his wife like that sets you ablaze, makes you possessive for a man already yours.

“Good thing we’re married then, huh?” Jin jokes and you let out a breathless laugh.

“Baby,” You exhale, “Wanna cum. Wanna cum so bad, wanna feel my hubby’s cum-”

Jin groans into your neck, biting your clavicle lightly. “You’re so impatient,” He chides lightly.

“Will you move-”

“I told you to wait-”

“Fine, I’ll just,” You push him on his back roughly and press your palms to his chest and sigh happily when you finally get the friction you’re craving as you begin to bounce on his cock. Jin squeezes your hips, your tits and pulls you closer to him to mouth at your chest. He wraps a hand around your neck lightly as you try to keep your rhythm steady and your breaths stutter.

You ignore the burn in your thighs in favor of clenching around his cock and focusing on how full you feel.

Jin’s eyes are hooded, zeroed in on you exactly how you like them to be. He can sense when you’re beginning to get tired, holding your hips tightly and taking control over to slam his hips into yours. He stays focused on the way your lips part in a delicious ‘o’ and he pulls your face close to his harshly to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. You whimper into his mouth as he slams into you, his hips pistoning and your voice growing louder and louder.

He circles your clit, moves the same hand to your lips and pushes his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly accept his finger. Spit coats his thumb and he hums in approval.

You cum abruptly and unexpectedly, pleasure washing over you in waves at the simple clasp of his big hand around your neck. His cock is still throbbing inside you, pace relentless. Tears gather around your waterline from oversensitivity but you murmur for him to cum, you tell him how much you want his cum in you and he moans your name in your ear before emptying himself in your pussy.

“I love you,” You mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck and gripping his necklace lightly. He wipes any stray moisture from your eyes and kisses your forehead.

“I love you,” Jin says hoarsely. Jin tries to pull out but you protest, wanting to lay with him for a few moments longer. At some point, you end up dozing off in his arms and Jin cleans you both up before tucking you into bed.

You feel the faint brush of his lips on your forehead and bury yourself into his side before you tumble into sleep.

FOUR. long days.

you.

You woke up this morning with a migraine (truly one of the worst ways to wake up). Despite taking medicine after it became too excruciating to bear and increasing your water intake, your head was still throbbing nearly twelve hours later.

Not to mention, everyone at work was grating on your last nerve. It seemed that everyone wanted a piece of you today and you were getting pulled in a million different directions. You didn’t even have time to do the things you needed to do.

The only people who you were able to speak to without feeling like ripping your hair out were Namjoon and Jungkook. Even they told you that you should probably go home early, since it looked like you were about to pass out. Namjoon offered to call Jin to pick you up, but you refused quickly.

Being in your office was making your migraine worse. So by 3 PM, you pack your stuff up and head out without bidding anybody goodbye.

Your feet ache, your head is pounding, you’re hungry and you could absolutely scream. You rest your forehead on your steering wheel before pulling out of your parking space with bleary eyes. Your suit feels stifling today, and it feels difficult to breathe.

You want Jin, you’ve wanted Jin since you arrived at work and everything went to shit. But you can’t bear to listen to a single sound over your speakers so you just wait until you get home.

***

“You’re home early,” Jin says, looking up at you from his glasses at the dining table. You say nothing, only dropping your backpack to the floor and climbing into his lap tiredly.

“Oh, honey,” Jin murmurs, kissing your hair and rubbing your shoulder. Your eyes are closed and you hum into his neck.

“My head hurts a lot,” You say quietly into his skin, “Today sucked.”

“Let’s go get you changed, honey.”

Bomi follows both of you upstairs, sitting in her bed as Jin changes you out of your work clothes. He starts with your suit jacket, peeling it off easily and hanging it back up in your closet. Then, he pulls your button-up from the waistband of your pants and unbuttons your shirt slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your skin with each button that comes undone. Jin easily unclasps your bra, letting his fingers trail over your skin, before pulling one of his shirts over your head.

You’re already feeling a little better.

Jin pushes your pants down your legs and taps the back of your thighs so he can pull your favorite sweatpants up. “Gotta take your makeup off, baby.”

You make a noise of acknowledgment and allow him to take you to the bathroom, where he gently washes away the remnants of your day (after he washes his hands).

After he moisturizes your face with a tender touch, he pulls you into his chest for a long hug. His hands roam your back from under his shirt and you sigh.

“Can we nap,” You mumble, eyes already closing.

Jin nods and carries you to bed, making sure to draw the curtains closed to envelope you both in as much darkness as possible. He tucks you in before stepping away for a minute, but you’re already being beckoned towards sleep. “Baby, take medicine,” Jin murmurs, holding two pills and a glass of water in his hand. You sit up with a wince and do as he says.

“Good girl,” Jin says, cradling your cheek and crawling into bed with you. Jin turns on his side and drapes himself over you. He smiles when you sigh contentedly and he kisses your hair, coaxing you further into sleep with a few rubs of your belly.

Your soft snores fill the room and Jin only hopes you wake up feeling a little better.

***

jin.

Jin can’t seem to knock this metaphorical wall down, no matter how much coffee he chugs, how long he sits in the home office, how long he stares at his laptop screen.

Writer’s block. What a pain.

He runs a hand through his already messy hair and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looks like shit- bags under his eyes, fatigued, zapped of energy and motivation.

But he has a deadline coming up in the next few months and he has absolutely nothing to show for it. He had had success with his first short story, but he’d called it beginner’s luck. Then came the second story, and the third.

And now here he is. Riding on the coattails of his initial success. Maybe this is how far his mild talent would take him. Maybe this is all he can put out into the world.

It was nice while it lasted.

Jin huffs loudly. He knows you’d scold him for thinking such thoughts, for wallowing like this. You’d kiss him, murmur words of comfort and tell him that you believe in him.

He wants you, he wants you to hold him. A sudden wave of sadness and inadequacy washes over him.

Jin will just wait for you to get home. Until then, he’ll lay in bed and wallow in self-pity. Just how he likes.

***

You know something is wrong when Jin doesn’t reply to your texts after a few hours or send you a silly meme, or a corny joke as he usually does. He could be busy, but you just have a feeling.

So when you come home to see Bomi and Jin cuddled in bed, you only softly sigh. Jin rarely takes afternoon naps- it’s clear he’s upset.

“Jin?” You murmur, “Everything okay, baby?” You kneel on the floor of the side of the bed he’s facing and push his hair from his eyes. Jin blearily looks at you with fatigue in the lines of his face.

“No,” He says, voice muffled, “Lay with me? But take your outside clothes off.”

You bite your tongue, wanting to say “when have I ever laid in bed in outside clothes” but you refrain. You quickly wash up and change into comfy clothes and slide into bed to wrap your arms around his waist. You press your nose to his neck and drop a kiss there.

Jin relaxes immediately in your hold, finally able to get his mind to stop going a million miles a minute. Your hands are soothing and gentle around him, you wrap your legs around his to cocoon him in your embrace.

“Wanna talk about it, baby?” You murmur, dropping a kiss to the back of his ear.

“I just,” Jin sighs, “This story. I feel so stuck, and they want the first draft in a few weeks and I have nothing- I mean, what if this is it. This is all I could put out into the universe and… I felt like I was finally doing something great, something I loved. I felt like I was finally getting started-”

“Oh, sweetheart,” You coo, “It’s scary doing something amazing and feeling like you can’t replicate the same success. Or the same quality end result. Maybe you just need a break, honey. For a few days. And I’m sure if you ask for an extension, they’ll understand. You have so many words in this pretty head, baby. You have so many stories to tell.”

Jin turns in your arms, his eyes a little wet. You cup his cheek tenderly and he leans into your touch.

“You work so hard baby,” You murmur, “You’re so hard on yourself. Be patient with yourself.”

“I love you,” He mutters, pulling you in for a hug, “I love you. Even if you did wear outside clothes in bed, I love you.”

FIVE. nasa.

Falling in love with Seokjin came naturally- you had met him in one of your shared college classes in undergrad during your second year of college, and had become acquaintances that way. It had taken you longer to become real friends with him, but it hadn’t taken you long at all to realize how attracted you were to him.

You wanted him and he wanted you, as he drunkenly told you over shitty vodka shots at the bar that your mutual friends were celebrating their twenty-first birthdays at. He was so shy at the time, he still is sometimes, that you could understand how much it took for him to admit it to you. Whether it was out of intoxication or not. Of course, it had taken some time for you to get your shit together with each other. But the rest was history.

College sweethearts. You can still remember what it felt like in the beginning, how he made your heart grow ten sizes in your chest and made you feel like you were in the clouds. You can remember because you still feel it now, over ten years later. Give or take.

You remember your friends and your older cousins telling you that it wouldn’t work- that you were two very different people. You were too uptight, you didn’t take risks, you were not Seokjin’s type at all. Sure, maybe it seemed that way on paper. But the more you knew him and grew to love him, the more you felt like he was the missing piece of your puzzle.

You’ve long let go of the doubts of people around you. And it was even more bothersome that your own friends and family questioned your judgment. Because his friends and his family loved you. They sang your praises whether you were present or not, and his friends and family had slowly become your friends and family, too.

It made you happy beyond happy.

But there were some times when you and Jin were not on the same wavelength, and today was one of those days. You both fought here and there, like any couple did. But it had been a long time since you both fought like this.

You were both spending the day at the park with Bomi and then furniture shopping for a new coffee table. Jin had been inspired to redo the decor in the living room and you were basking in his inspiration.

But the morning had first started with you spilling your coffee and subsequently breaking your mug when it had slipped right out of your hands. You had then cut yourself on one of the sharper pieces after ensuring that Bomi was in her crate so she wouldn’t get hurt because of your stupidity-

Jin comes bounding down the stairs with panicked, wide eyes when he sees you pouting and holding a cloth to your hand. He looks down at the spilt coffee and the broken pieces of your mug and sighs.

You clean up the broken pieces with Jin and he checks your hands and feet afterwards. He helps you bandage your hand up, even though it’s a superficial cut. “Clumsy,” Jin snorts, “You’d lose your head if you didn’t have me.”

It had been such a small thing, but then a few other small things started adding up. Bomi peed on the rug before you had left for the park.

And to top it all off, Jin’s shoulder has been bothering him more than usual. His shoulder pain has been flaring up over the last few months, and despite your attempts to coax him into physical therapy or at least a doctor’s visit, he stubbornly refuses to. Something about it just being a part of getting older, or something.

Every time you try telling him to see a doctor, it ends in a minuscule fight and Jin shuts the conversation down. You can’t understand what the big deal is. Maybe there’s something more going on, something he’s not sharing with you.

This morning is one of those days that his shoulder is aching more than it usually does. You offer to drive to the park, but he grits his teeth and tells you that he can handle it.

You let it go for now.

At the park, Jin relaxes considerably, running around and playing with Bomi. There are some other dogs around so you and Jin let Bomi play with them, chatting with the other dog parents around you. Bomi is still getting used to being around other dogs, so you’re both happy to see her meshing well.

Bomi begins to tire herself out, curling at your feet and panting. Indicating that she’s tired and thirsty. Maybe a little hungry.

“Hi Bomi baby,” You coo, “Want some water and treats? Come, baby.”

“Wanna head out soon? We gotta check out the furniture store still,” Jin murmurs to you and you nod. He seems impatient, tapping his foot against the grass but you say nothing.

You rub his back fleetingly once Bomi finishes her treats and you carry her leash in your hand, your other hand in Jin’s. He’s tense, eyes narrowed in concentration and you think you know why. You think his shoulder is bothering him and he’s being stubborn about it.

You put Bomi in the backseat, stopping Jin from getting in the driver’s seat for a second. “Hey,” You mumble, taking your hands in his, “I’ll drive-”

“No, I’ll drive,” He says it with a note of finality and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I know your shoulder hurts, love,” You try to say as gently as you can, “Let me do it.”

“I’m fine,” Jin insists, stubbornness dripping from his tone, “Get in the car. I’m fine.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. The car ride is quiet, tension filling the spaces between you. You want to say something, you really do. But you don’t want to upset him further when he’s driving.

But then you see him wince and groan softly in pain with his hands on the steering wheel.

“Seokjin, pull over,” You say a little firmly. A little annoyed that he let it get this far.

“I can’t just pull over,” He hisses, “Besides, I’m fine, I’ll get us home-”

“We were supposed to go to the furniture store,” You roll your eyes, “But you’re right, pull over so I can drive us home. And I’m calling the doc once we get home-”

“No!” Jin exclaims, “I’m not fucking pulling over-”

“Why not? I’m literally telling you that I’ll drive! Baby, please-”

Jin rarely ever loses his patience with you, but today is just one of those days. “You should’ve fucking driven then,” He somehow has the audacity to say.

“You’re joking right? I told you multiple times I would drive,” You refrain from raising your voice, “You won’t call the doctor, you won’t see a physical therapist. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Leave it alone! You’re supposed to fucking leave it alone,” Seokjin says, not holding back the irritation on his tongue. The hoops on his ears dangle and bounce when he looks at you quickly.

He ignores the hurt on your face and watches it transform into anger.

“Alright, I’ll just fucking leave it alone, since you’re doing such a great job of taking care of it yourself,” You mutter.

“Don’t- don’t scold me under your breath,” He says, more like yells, “A-and quit nagging me about it, fuck!”

The irritation in your belly vanishes quickly, hiding behind your hurting heart. You turn away from him, facing the passenger side window so he doesn’t see your eyes beginning to water.

Jin sighs, already realizing his error. You hate when anyone raises their voice at you, much less when it’s him. Shit. He has to fix this, but damn, you can be pushy when you want to be.

You sniffle.

“I’m sorry,” Jin says instantly, “Baby, I’m sorry I yelled.”

“Just drive, Seokjin,” You sigh, wiping your eyes.

So you both sit in silence.

***

“Baby,” Jin begs, “Please, baby, say something.”

“I don’t know what to say,” You mumble, his words ringing clear in your head. You had put Bomi in her bed, as she had somehow fallen asleep despite you and Jin arguing.

So now you’re both standing in the living room, looking at each other sadly. “Can I hug you?” Jin asks, walking towards you with outstretched arms. He dwarfs over you but you stand limply in his arms, your own arms hanging awkwardly at your side.

“Baby,” Jin pleads with you, cradling your cheek.

You’ve had worse fights with him in the past. But you knew him, you knew he wouldn’t lash out like this normally.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” You say bluntly, “And don’t lie to me and say everything’s fine. This isn’t just about your shoulder, so what is it?”

Of course you’d know that he was hiding something. You’re his other half after all, so he shouldn’t be surprised.

Jin sighs, rubbing his face tiredly. “I just…” He whispers.

“Tell me, baby,” You say reassuringly, hand on his chest, “It’s just me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut to gather his thoughts before opening his mouth and giving himself the chance to hurt your feelings again. “I just...I feel like I have no reason to get sick. To be in pain, I mean, what am I doing? I’m just at home, anyway-”

“Seokjin,” You murmur in a hushed whisper, “You’re not just at home-”

“I just feel- inadequate sometimes lately,” Jin says, his eyes wide and vulnerable, “I feel stuck and like… unsettled. I just want to be a husband you can be proud of. I’m sorry I yelled at you in the car.”

“Honey,” You cup his face with love in your eyes, “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together, okay? You can tell me anything, when you’re ready. I hate pushing you to open up but sometimes you just need it, baby.

“I’ll always be proud of you no matter what. You are my dream babe, so supportive and loving and I always feel safe with you. If you want to work again, we’ll figure it out. If you want to write something else, we’ll figure it out. I’ll always be proud of you, but I want you to be proud of you, too. I love you.

“And you can make it up to me with dinner,” You joke, pulling a laugh from him.

“I’m really sorry,” Jin says, pulling you in for a proper hug. This time you reciprocate and hold him close.

“I know, love,” You murmur, “I know.”

SIX. question and answer.

Seokjin had quit his job about two years before you both had gotten married. He’d been dreaming about finally putting his dream of being a true storyteller to the test, and you had supported him. You’d read through his drafts and his manuscripts and encouraged him to pursue it full time. After all, you made enough to sustain you both and then some. And it’s not like he wasn’t making any money at all- he did freelance work with his writing for the most part.

He was good, he was more than good. He was great. Jin was a natural born storyteller, knowing exactly when to focus on details and when to zoom out and focus on the big picture. The way he wrote his stories genuinely felt like he was spinning words out of gold thread when you read what he wrote.

And he’d blush, the tips of his ears going red, when you said that to him with such conviction because you meant it.

Jin would get his big break soon, you were sure of it. But honestly, Jin was content like this. Freelancing his work, writing and keeping up with his new ideas and stories. It was one of the greatest gifts of his life, he thinks.

You and Jin are both content with your lives. You both find new ways to excite each other and new ways to fall even deeper in love with each other. It’s funny because your wedding hadn’t really even been planned. You both would have been content to exist as boyfriend and girlfriend until the end of time, but the idea of being his wife and of him being your husband was too mesmerizing for you both to let go of.

Neither of you wanted anything big or flashy. In fact, the way Jin had brought it up had been over breakfast (which in itself was so very him)-

“I wanna be yours forever,” Jin says bluntly, syrup at the corner of his mouth.

“Is that a proposal or are you just saying that,” You tease but his eyes are serious.

“Do you want it to be a proposal? I know we’ve talked about marriage and how what we are now is enough for both of us. I know you love me and I know I love you. But… god, I want to be your husband. I want you to be my wife.”

“Okay,” You shrug, “So let’s get married.”

“That’s it?”

“Does it need to be any more complicated?” You ask, “Like you said. I already know I want to be with you forever. Let’s make it official. Besides… I wanna be your pretty wifey. Don’t you want that?”

And that was that. You told your parents and he told his parents that you’d be getting married in court, and they had respectively scolded you both for not telling them before or planning anything. But nevertheless, they still came and they were witnesses at the court wedding. Only a few friends had come (you’d only invited a few)- the guys and some of your girls.

Jungkook had cried along with your mother.

You and Jin at least had a small get together with your friends and family to celebrate a little bit. Your parents were a little miffed that they didn’t have a chance to have an elaborately planned wedding for their eldest daughter, but they knew you. They knew you wouldn’t have wanted all of that.

“At least they told you and invited us to come,” Your brother says, rolling his eyes at your mother.

But it’s inevitable that for the last few years, the question of whether you both would ever grace your respective parents with grandchildren comes up repeatedly. Your parents are harder on you and more incessant than Jin’s parents are.

Many family gatherings have ended with you losing your temper with your parents, specifically your mother and your aunts. Your patience runs out quickly with them and Jin knows it. It’s part of the reason why you’ve been distancing yourself from your mother and aunts- it’s exhausting and tiresome to keep having the same conversation. Jin has been witness to your frustrated tears one too many times to count. First, they’d bug you about when you and Jin would get married. And now, they bug you about when you’ll have children.

You and Jin are happy right now. Neither of you had explicitly decided that you didn’t want kids. You’re both just taking it easy. And your family can’t seem to understand that.

Of course, you’ve both talked about kids together. And you’ve thought about whether you were meant to have kids extensively. Truthfully, you never really saw it becoming a reality.

But again… not right now. Maybe later. Or maybe not ever. The decision will come when it comes. It’s been years, and your feelings haven’t changed one way or another.

Your mother says you’re too laid back. Which is funny, because when she met Jin for the first time, she told you that you were too uptight for him.

Jin’s family doesn’t push either of you. His mother treats you like her own daughter, and for that you’re grateful. You’ve heard stories from friends about shitty in-laws, and you’re glad that Jin’s family is your own family.

The Kims are having a small party on this gorgeous summer evening- you and Jin are in attendance, along with his brother, his brother’s wife, and their two kids, and a few of Jin’s aunts, uncles and cousins.

Jin seems to sense that you’re both about to get ambushed by his mother and his aunts in the kitchen after drinks and dinner before you do. You stand closer to him, subtly squeezing his hand in yours. He grips your hand and squeezes back.

At least he’s with you, and you don’t have to fend for yourself, you think dryly.

“You ladies got something to say?” Jin says, his jaw starting to tick. He’s getting upset and you rub your thumb over his hand.

“We only want what’s best for you,” His mom says with a sigh, “You’re both getting older, when will you have kids-”

You swallow a lump down as your throat goes dry and the urge to cry overwhelms you.

“Stop,” Jin warns, his voice low, “We’re not doing this. Not here, not now.”

“We haven’t said anything for this long,” His aunt complains. You want to melt into the floor.

Are you the problem?

“Do you want a trophy for minding your own business?” Jin says, glaring at his aunt, who cowers with the heat in his stare. You can’t find your voice, so you let Jin speak for both of you.

“Don’t speak to your aunt like that,” His mother scolds Jin but he’s not having it.

“I will, if any of you speak to my wife and I like this,” Jin hisses, “We’re leaving.”

Jin squeezes your hand and you refuse to let go of him. Your vision is blurry from unshed tears and Jin notices. You manage to hold it in while you grab your purse, until you get to the car and let a few tears fall before shoving your face into his chest and sobbing.

“I know, baby,” Jin sighs, rubbing your back soothingly, “I’m sorry. Let’s go home.”

***

“I don’t know what to say,” You mumble into his chest. You had both immediately changed into night clothes to cuddle in bed, with Bomi in your arms.

“I’m tired,” Jin sighs, “Tired of them asking. Tired of everyone asking us.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, looking up at him, “They’re our family.”

“Doesn’t mean they get to be the way they are,” Jin rolls his eyes.

“I know,” You reply, “I’m running out of things to say to them. We’re gonna push everyone away if we keep this up.”

You say the last part jokingly, but you both know it’s a very real possibility. It’s becoming harder and harder for you both to give them the benefit of the doubt, to say that they only ask out of their own good intentions. It’s beginning to hurt you more and more.

“Maybe they need to be pushed away,” Jin mumbles, “If it means getting some peace of mind and not feeling like this whenever we see our families, maybe it’s worth it.”

“Maybe.”

A beat of comfortable silence.

“Do you want kids?” Jin asks bluntly, “It’s been a while since we actually talked about it. Just want to make sure nothing has changed.”

“No, not now,” You murmur, “Maybe someday. It’s such a hard question to answer. I don’t want to say no definitively but I don’t want to say yes definitively either… Do you want kids?”

“Maybe someday,” Jin echoes, “We can revisit in a few months. Or next year. Whenever we feel like it. Because it’s our decision.”

“Your mom is right,” You sigh, “I am getting older, you know. If we do want kids, we should seriously start thinking about it soon.”

“There are other ways to have kids,” Jin says pointedly, “When we’re both ready. Not because we feel like we have to.”

“Okay,” You say softly, “I love you.”

It’s that simple and that’s that. (For now, at least.)

SEVEN. together.

As you and Seokjin had tumbled out of your late twenties, you both found yourself preferring boozy brunch to nights out. At least with boozy brunch, you could recuperate during the day so you weren’t hungover for the entirety of the next day.

That’s not to say that you didn’t enjoy a night out every so often with your friends. You liked going out more than Jin did, even when you were in college.

So it was no surprise that at Taehyung’s boozy birthday brunch, you were well on your way to being drunk and Jin was, too. It had been a long time since you had seen your friends- it really only feels like you see each other for birthdays or big events. You miss the days of college, when you could see each other at the drop of a hat. It never felt this busy even in the years right after college. In the early years, even though most of them were younger than you and Jin, it still felt like there was more time.

It makes you feel nostalgic. You hear Jungkook teasing Jin (as he often does) and Jin dramatically responding. His cheeks are flushed red, the flush creeping down to his neck.

God, he looks so good.

You tear your eyes away from him when Taehyung’s girlfriend calls your name. She asks if you want to dance and you immediately say fuck yes, and stand up with her and with Sunmi to head to the dance floor with two drinks in your hands.

You can feel Jin’s eyes on your backside- you know you looked good. The pink crop top you had chosen for brunch was tight around your chest and you know these dark wash jeans and short heels (coincidentally your favorite) made your legs and your ass look fantastic.

Not that you didn’t look fantastic at all hours of the day. But you like being reminded that your man cannot get enough of you.

You’re careful with your drinks, ensuring that not a single drop is wasted while you dance with your friends. It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to let loose like this, and it makes you happy to be surrounded by friends that you love.

Sunmi’s hands are on your hips as you throw your head back in loose laughter. You’re vaguely aware of someone taking selfies of the three of you. Mostly, you can feel Jin’s lazy gaze on you, and a few other eyes as well.

You’ll give your husband something to watch, alright.

***

Somehow, it’s only 3 PM when it feels like it's 11 PM. And somehow, Taehyung is eager to go to the club at night, after an afternoon of reckless drinking. You and Jin exchange a wordless look, already knowing where your head is at.

“Yah… just let us know where the pregame is,” Jin says and Taehyung beams at him, “We’ll take a power nap until then.”

You feel bad that you and Jin probably won’t be going out, but you don’t want to dim his excitement. And honestly, knowing your friends, they’d all hype themselves up after an entire afternoon of drinking only to crash, pass out, and order in to chill.

“I don’t really wanna go,” You complain once you’re both in the comfort of your home, changed and ready for a nap.

“Jungkook told me that they’re all crashing anyway,” Jin says.

“Besides, I wanna blow you when you wake up,” You say sleepily.

“Why not now,” Jin whines, “Look at me, I’m already half hard. Help me.”

“I’ll puke on your dick if I suck you off right now.”

“Not like it hasn’t happened before-”

“Seokjin!”

“Ugh, fine,” Jin says dramatically, “I’ll just suffer then.”

“Okay, then perish.”

EIGHT. self.

Jin likes lists. He’s a big fan of crossing things off of his lists (which he keeps in his planner and his journal depending on what he makes lists for), and there are very few things as satisfying as completing a task from his list.

He’s a huge stationery enthusiast, only allowing both himself and you to use materials that he deemed satisfactory. He’s recently come across the magic that is washi tape, thanks to Namjoon.

Today, he’s taking Bomi out for a walk and to the nearby dog park, then he’s going to outline some new story ideas in his notebook (to later add to his drive on his laptop), and then he’s visiting baby Jia and Jimin with Yoongi and Holly.

Inspiration seems to be flooding through his pores these days, and he’ll ride that wave for as long as he can.

After seeing Jia and Jimin, he’ll stop by the grocery store and restock some on veggies, spices and meat. Routinely, you and Jin switch on who makes dinner for the week. You do enjoy cooking (it’s your time to decompress) but you’ll gladly admit that your man cooks better than you.

He claims that his secret ingredient is love. You think it’s because he’s more patient than you.

Sunday mornings at least twice a month are spent baking with Jin. You both like trying and making new things together. Sometimes it comes out great, and sometimes it doesn’t.

Jin also picks up some of your shared favorite snacks, two new bottles of wine to try, and a bag of clementines.

***

Initially, the quiet of the house without you felt a bit stifling at times. And once Bomi came into the picture, it became a little more lively. And then Jin had taken some plant recommendations and tips from Namjoon. He takes care of them meticulously, and you even have two succulents on your office desk that Jin had surprised you with.

And then you had surprised him with a record player with a few vinyls of his favorite albums and artists.

You both had made it a home project after purchasing the record player to build a sturdy, wooden audio rack together. Of course, it had taken months to finish (and if you had called Jin your sexy lumberjack husband and taken photos of him posing with the table together, then that was your business).

Jin puts some music on the record player before taking Bomi’s harness off and letting her stretch her legs. He puts the vegetables and the meat in the fridge and fills up a glass of water (as well as Bomi’s water bowl).

Maybe he’ll put a candle on and work from the couch.

Jin usually prefers working in his house with music faintly playing in the background. But sometimes, he likes working with Yoongi in his studio. Somehow, the feeling and sound of Yoongi working on his own music puts Jin in the right headspace to write and get his words on paper.

Jin puts his head down and loses track of time as he types away, tapping his foot to the music in time with the beat. Bomi curls up to his side and rests her head on his thigh.

It must be about two hours later, when his phone starts ringing. It’s Hoseok calling and Jin picks up instantly, knowing that he’s been having a tough time recently. Hoseok had taken the week off to get his thoughts sorted, and it’s clear that he wants (or needs) some company. So Jin tells him to come over and he warms up some leftovers and prepares some snacks.

Hoseok and Jin end up lying in bed together, under the duvet with Bomi in Hoseok’s arms. Jin turns the music up, as it’s comforting to hear in the silence. He doesn’t push him to talk, unless he really wants to. Eventually, with a sigh, he does.

It’s almost disconcerting, seeing the pull of Hoseok’s lips into a sharp frown. He’s usually so happy, and smiley, sunshine personified. But he is only human and he is not immune to hard days and generally feeling this way.

Jin only holds Hoseok close to him as he tells him how he’s been feeling the last few weeks. Months really. The words stumble out, forcing their way out of his throat (and some tears do, too).

Jin only rubs his friend’s arm reassuringly and listens.

***

You find Jin and Hoseok tucked away in your bed and you’re sure to be quiet and light on your feet when you arrive home from work. You let them have their time together, only saying hello to them when you arrive and start preparing dinner with a glass of wine in your hands.

“You don’t-” Hoseok protests, and you hold your hand up before he can even finish his sentence.

“Stay for dinner, Hobi. It’s been a while,” You murmur with a soft smile, “Besides, Jin got new wine and we’d love to try some with you.”

So he stays, and you see him smile genuinely for the first time in a long time.

NINE. to the nines.

“I love being your arm candy,” Jin murmurs into your ear when you both walk into the swanky hotel together, “Because I’m the only 11 in the room.”

“You’re so full of it,” You roll your eyes, swatting his chest playfully. Truthfully, you enjoy these events so much more when Jin is with you. You can hardly stand being in the room with these many people from work when you don’t have to be.

But being with Jin makes things like this bearable. Enjoyable, even.

It’s the director’s retirement party, and nearly everyone at the company is here for the party. You spot Jungkook and Namjoon with their respective significant others near the open bar and immediately make a beeline for them.

“Hey,” You murmur, giving them each a tight hug, “You all clean up very nicely.”

“Yah! You didn’t even tell me that when we left the house,” Jin pouts and you roll your eyes. Again.

A lie, and you both know it.

“Let’s make a drinking game out of this shindig,” You mutter and everyone looks on with interested eyes, “Every time you see your boss-”

“You don’t need to make a drinking game outta it,” Jungkook says, wrapping an arm around his date’s shoulders, “We’re already tipsy-”

“Of course you are,” Seokjin rolls his eyes, “Wouldn’t expect anything less-”

“Don’t come for me, I know you both took tequila shots before getting here-”

You leave Jin and Jungkook bickering and walk with Namjoon and his date to the open bar.

“What do you two feel like having,” You muse, “Let’s get this party going, everyone looks like they’re wasted or like they’d rather be anywhere but here.”

“Should we be networking,” Namjoon muses, taking a look around the ballroom.

“I only network from eight to five pm on weekdays and after that I need a six month notice in advance if I’m being forced to network,” You say flatly, “Let’s just enjoy, Joon.”

“If you say so, boss,” Namjoon grins good-naturedly at you. You hand out your respective drinks, beckoning Jin towards you and have a quiet cheers together.

You’re happy to be with your friends, and with Jin, even if it’s a work event that you have an unspoken obligation to attend.

***

It appears that Taemin does not quite see the ring on your finger- or he sees it and he willfully ignores it. Or it’s the alcohol and he’s just being far more flirty than usual. Either way, you take it in stride and dip out of the conversation as soon as you can to make your way back to Jin.

Who had been watching the whole interaction with amused eyes.

“Are you jealous?” You ask with a sugary grin.

“Yeah, definitely,” Jin rolls his eyes, “Jealous that your coworker caught five minutes of your time. Should I go rough him up?”

“I love when you protect my honor,” You wink at him, rubbing his chest absently, “It’s so sexy.”

“I love you,” Jin says abruptly, “I’m proud to be the person on your arm, you know that?”

“Yeah,” You say dreamily, “I love you.”

You and Jin end up finishing the night with Jungkook, Namjoon and their dates at a nearby pizza place. Even if you look out of place in fancy formal wear, none of you pay it any mind.

Neither you nor Jin particularly prefer PDA, but you can’t help but lean your head against his shoulder when you start to yawn. You’re struggling to stay present in the conversation and Jin’s warmth next to you is pushing you closer and closer to sleep.

You end up dozing off without realizing it, and Jin adjusts himself so that your head is comfortably resting on his shoulder. Everyone is sure to keep their voices down since you’ve fallen into a deep sleep apparently, and once everyone’s finished with their food Jin hesitates to wake you up.

“Honey,” Jin murmurs, shaking your shoulder gently, “The Uber’s almost here. We can go home and go to sleep. A pizza parlor is no place for sleeping.”

It takes a few moments of shaking your shoulder and whispering for you to wake up before Jin just lifts you up and carries you outside. You inhale loudly at the sudden movement and your eyes spring open.

“Jin,” You mumble into his neck, “‘M so tired.”

“I know, baby, we’ll be home soon. Gonna put you down now, alright?”

Your feet hit the ground but you stay in his embrace, eyes still closed and face tucked into his neck. You force your eyes open with a groan and look over his shoulder to see Jungkook and Namjoon in similar embraces with their own dates.

“They’re cute,” You say softly to Jin, “We’re cuter, but they’re still cute.”

“That’s my girl,” Jin grins and pecks your forehead.

“‘M your pretty wifey,” You remind him. As if he needs a reminder.

“‘M your pretty hubby,” Jin says. As if you need the reminder.

He’s your forever, and you’re his forever. Things between you both have always been relatively simple and easy.

And this fact is no different.

tags: @kentobean

#seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #seokjin #seokjin x you

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