#MAN NEEDS A FULL TIME STYLIST | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

setsugekka · 1 year

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❥5 weeks (m)

↳ In which a freelancing stylist gig puts you between a rock and a hard place.

The rock being ‘never slept with a client before and not looking to start now,’ and the hard place being a younger than you and much too daring for his own good, Jung Wooyoung.

jung wooyoung x older stylist fem!reader — coworkers to lovers, mutual pining, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [12.1k wc] cws: unspecified age gap!! they’re both down atrocious but he is the one making all the moves, mutual masturbation, a metric fuckton of dirty talking, praise, humiliation, pet names including ‘mommy,’ and the use of ‘noona’ but really it’s his kink and not hers (a drop of ‘daddy’ too but it’s more for comedic purposes than anything), drop of a breeding kink (also kinda comedic), oral sex (m+f), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, wooyoung has a Big Dick and is wildly kinky and confident.

“Oh, give me a break!”

Shoulder sling of your bag dropping from you in exasperation and barely caught by your hand as to not allow your belongings to fall to the floor, you roll your eyes briefly towards the man informing you of the terrible news of the day. Of the month.

“Are you kidding me? This isn't what my contract said.”

“It sort of is,” the man reluctantly replies, avoiding eye contact that he knows will not help make the situation any better for either of you. “Blah blah blah 'in the event of a personnel shift then we have the freedom to place you wherever we need you.”

You knew, you were lying in hopes of being able to get out of it.

Unfortunately, when you took the job and signed the contract, you did know that this would be a likely outcome. Freelance stylists were able to choose three groups of which they had preference in working for throughout the show — bigger groups come with their own stylists and full slots majority of the time, but occasionally need additional hands on, which is where you come in. Smaller groups have less on board staff and require more freelance help on set — also where you come in, although, not ideally.

Of the six groups on broadcast, you had worked with four. three you enjoyed, they went on the list of preferences.

The one that you didn't enjoy working with, along with the other that you hadn't become acquainted with, were left off. Nothing against them, just better to play it safe with what you're familiar with.

And now you have to find out which group you got assigned for the next five weeks.

Slinging your bag back onto your shoulder with a huff, you thank the man for his time even in spite of not really being all that thankful, and make your way down the white walled hallway, the names of groups you're familiar with passing you by — slowing down as you pass the ones you had wished to work with and happily waving towards the members as you carry on — it's a brief relief, you'll still get to see them and have fun with them, just not as much as you would have given alternate circumstances.

And then you reach the room number, 3B.

ATEEZ.

Squinting slightly, you recall that you're actually not completely unfamiliar with them, and happily, they're not the group you didn't enjoy working with. You already know the names of everyone in the group, and you think you remember doing some behind the scenes broadcast work when they were still in their first year, albeit, not much.

It could have been worse.

Walking into the room, you first introduce yourself to the entire lot of people, then focus towards managers and the other stylists — all very welcoming and happy to receive the help, it seems.

Then, the members.

All of them gathered around, clamoring to accommodate you in such an overwhelming way that you can't hardly make out a single word being said one way or another, Hongjoong finally shushes the rest to get a word in edgewise and calmly welcomes you on board, along with apologizing in advance for whatever it is that may take place as a result of working with the lot.

You don't know what he means by it exactly, but you're familiar with working with boy groups — some things are pretty standard across the board. The dirty jokes, the messiness, the crudeness — if you're lucky, it mostly ends there, immature young men just trying to fit in having a good time in the midst of their otherwise busy schedules — you're used to giving it a pass.

But you sift through your mental rolodex of stories that you've heard about groups through the grapevine — water cooler among stylists type talk — and fail to land on anything in particular about them.

When it comes to this sort of stuff, no news is good news.

The boys scatter back to where they had come after the warm welcomes, and you dart your head around in an attempt to find a place to put your personal belongings. Truthfully, the room is small for the amount of people in it, and you're seemingly the last to join the crew. You wish not to place your purse down on the floor next to the door, but without another option at hand, you resign yourself to the fact that this will have to make due. Phone and wallet sticking out of the top, you kneel down to scoot the items against the wall when a strong hand comes from the side, taking you by the wrist. It's gentle even in it's abruptness, and takes you by surprise all the same.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,” he says, quickly letting go of you but remaining in his knelt position next to you. “Don't put it there, I got a place.”

Eyebrows furrowing at the words, and the implications, you cock your head to the side before responding to him. “Problem with thieves? I mean, I know it's a pirate concept—“

“Oh, very funny!” he says, matching your playfully mocking tone with wide eyes. “No, but the door has loose hinges and if someone comes through that thing fast enough it's going to destroy everything you've got in there.”

Come to think of it, you had noticed that upon entry. Not as funny as what you had said, though.

The both of you stand, your items in hand again, and he leads the way towards a small area of the room that he appears to have made out for himself. It's simple: two folding chairs, one for sitting, and one to serve as a table, with his food already set out on it — the man points towards under the table-chair. “Put it there.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you know my name?” he asks, no discernible tone to it, but you can't recall an idol ever asking you the question outright — especially knowing that you're a freelancer.

You watch him only break eye contact with you long enough to seat himself back down, taking his lunch into his hands and nodding towards the makeshift platform, communicating to you that he wishes for you to use the chair for its intended purpose now.

“Is this a test? Or some kind of, I don't know—“ you pause, leaning back comfortably. “Am I like, supposed to?”

And he laughs in response, a sudden chuckle as if not having expected the retort at all. You watch him wipe his mouth with a napkin and take a sip of his drink before settling in to respond to the comment. “No, I was just curious because I wouldn't introduce myself again if you already had. I'm Woo—“

“Wooyoung, I know who you are.”

“Wow, all of that just for you to already know who I am?” he questions, wide eyed again — you can tell that he's enjoying the banter between the two of you. You'd be lying if you had said you weren't doing the same. “Enjoy playing games, is it?” he asks.

Typically, you would say no. But right now?

There had been a handful of idols that you had worked with over the years where the two of you hit it off naturally, comfortably. A welcomed lack of professionalism in an area of work that didn't normally allow for any room for it, being able to meet people that truly allowed for you to simply be yourself — it made going to the job everyday just that much easier.

“So,” you begin, not wanting to allow the conversation to die down as the man with the two-toned hair in front of you continues his meal with all eyes on you as you speak. “Who has the problem head in this group?”

“Problem head? “ Wooyoung exclaims, having never heard the verbiage before.

“Yeah, like who is going to be the biggest issue. Who doesn't wash their hair like a normal person or never brushes it or whatever.”

“Oh!” he yells, finally having caught on, and wipes his mouth with the napkin again before pointing across the room and loudly calling out towards another member. “It's Seonghwa! It's 100% Seonghwa! Never seen that man brush his hair in my life!”

Laughing, you turn to look behind you at Seonghwa seated in front of a mirror, another stylist going to work on his hair — roughly, at that — and as you make eye contact with a Seonghwa who is shaking his head, you move your eyes up and towards the stylist behind, solemnly nodding in accordance to Wooyoung's claims.

You turn back, Wooyoung shoving more food into his mouth. “Told you,” he mumbles between chews. “You got a boyfriend?”

You had let the conversation die down, and just as quickly, Wooyoung sparks it up again, still gnawing on the chicken in his mouth as he gets the words out.

“No,” you carefully reply, question lacing your tone that the man is sure to pick up on, but he only grins, swallowing, wiping and leaning forward towards you so that he doesn't have to carry his voice in more than a whisper.

“Good.”

By the end of the first week, you had a good idea that you might have sex with this guy.

On a surface level, you weren't too thrilled with the prospect, though. In all of your years working in the industry, you had never crossed that line. You knew colleagues who had, and worked with idols that regularly did, but despite not being morally or fundamentally opposed to the idea, it seemed better for everyone to just not. It was easy enough, usually. You had met some people that you had hit it off with and sure, the thought had crossed your mind occasionally — the sneaking 'what if' of a fling with someone, but it never felt especially in grasp. You weren't going to go out of your way to make it happen, and as far as you could tell, no one else had on their end, either.

Until now.

An entire week of friendly banter and heavy flirting that only came on stronger and stronger with each day, it's the first friday when you have Wooyoung in your chair and hair in your hands that the glances shared felt especially loaded.

Pulling on his hair slightly at a particularly tricky knot, you apologize, watching him wince vaguely in the reflection — only for him to glance up from his phone with a half grin and a wicked pointedness to his eyes.

“It's fine, I like it.”

And you want to be able to ignore it. Ignore the implications of the words. Feeling foreign eyes on you, your vision quickly darts over to make contact with Hongjoong's — seated next to the two of you and being dealt with on his own. He chuckles under his breath, having overheard the comment, and you pull on Wooyoung's hair again, this time on purpose.

A silent insistence for him to behave.

“How old are you, noona?” Hongjoong suddenly asks from beside you, eyes glued back down to his phone screen, and you're not sure why he's asking.

You have your suspicions, though.

“Older, old enough,” you respond. It pulls another chuckle from the leader of the group.

“Makes sense,” he says, finally receiving the go ahead to get up from the chair after having been finished with. “He likes that. Good luck with this one.”

Feeling heat rush to your face, and not particularly enjoying the fact that everyone in the room seems to be in on the situation at hand, you look back at Wooyoung in the reflection: still grinning with not a care in the world related to the topic.

'Play it cool,' you tell yourself with a deep inhale. “You do this often? Flirt with your stylists?”

“I wouldn't say often,” he responds plainly. “It's not unheard of, though.”

“You run off a lot of stylists?” you laugh, playfully pulling at his hair again.

“No,” he says, a certain cuteness taking his tone before leaning his head back against the headrest and looking up at you directly. “They don't run off.”

You want to be better. Stronger. Able to ignore it. Not to be like them, you don't flirt with idols you work with and you certainly don't sleep with them, either.

But you're guessing Wooyoung has plans for that, as well.

On the next Wednesday when filming runs late, with the majority of the staff having left, Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang are kept behind to refilm some shots. For only three members needing attention, and the normal staff for the group having to accompany the rest to their other schedules, you're left in charge of the three — along with their managers.

Which is simple enough: Yeosang, as off the wall nutty as he is, is relatively easy to work with, and Yunho being so kind and willing to do whatever it takes to make your job easier, you're only left with the one problem-child, as it were.

When filming for the three finally wraps at a quarter past one in the morning, you thank everyone for their time and willingness to accommodate you as they all head out to meet up with the rest of the members...until a PD comes in last minute once again and requests for another shoot for Wooyoung.

“It's fine, I'll catch up with you guys later,” he tells the rest, including his manager — tired and worn no doubt from a hectic schedule of, well, managing Wooyoung.

“How are you going to get home?” you ask him, confused about his dismissal of his handler as he hurriedly shakes his black and blonde hair free of the half ponytail it had been put into as they were leaving.

“I know how to get home, I'm an adult,” he laughs in response.

“I mean with the fans.”

“Oh,” he pauses, slipping on the shoes from wardrobe that they had had him in prior. “That's easy to deal with, honestly. Already scoped out the escape!”

For some reason, you don't even question that to be the truth. It sounds like something he would have already had planned.

“Are you leaving now?” he asks, rushing out towards the hallway, only lingering in the doorway long enough to catch your response.

And you know that deep down, you should — that the best way to avoid trouble, and subsequently Wooyoung, is to leave while he's caught up, with no chance of roping you into some nonsense that you wish you didn't want to be roped into.

But at the same time...what could it hurt?

What's a little adventure?

And the way that his lips curl at the response is devilish — has you second-guessing your choice already. Evidently, a man with an extremely devious plan that he has every intention of putting into action with the older stylist that he barely knows anything about.

Suddenly, you recall Hongjoong's words just a few days prior. A warning. 'Good luck.'

“Be back soon!” Wooyoung chimes, “and then we can get out of here.”

As if the 'we' wasn't bad enough, it's the way his bottom lip catches on his teeth as he exits the room, eyes locked with your own before disappearing into the madness of idol life once again.

You had sort of hoped that something would have come up that barred this scenario that you had originally agreed to. Now darting and weaving through dark, empty hallways of the entertainment building — quite possibly the last people in there that night besides overnight security, when Wooyoung finally brings you to the VIP entrance that he had briefly mentioned before, dual hearts sink at the sight just beyond the large, glass doors.

Pouring rain — unable to be heard from inside of the massive concrete building, but now plain as day in front of you, Wooyoung huffs at the sight, scanning the scattered construction equipment also littering the outdoors — not taken into account, but now definitely hurting the escape plan that had already been set into action.

“I guess we just make a run for it,” Wooyoung sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. “This wasn't really part of the plan, you know.”

“I gathered, but—“ you pause, bringing his attention down to the three bags of your heavy and also quite expensive belongings that you would rather not get soaking wet. “I'm not running anywhere, not well, at least.”

He huffs again, looking up again to stare back out of the window pane. “Well, we can't stay here, don't think we have much of a choice.”

You had already accepted the fact, but hearing the words only causes a pleading sigh to drop from you. “Yeah...where are we running towards, anyways? What's the plan?”

Bringing a hand up, Wooyoung points out towards what appears to be just large equipment for moving and storing concrete and other such things, before elaborating further.

“Across the parking lot and then across the street there's a small, 24-hour convenience store where we can wait and call a cab.”

“How is that safe?” you question, dumbfounded. “How is it safe for you to be seen running around in convenience stores in the middle of the night with a random woman?”

“No one is going to see us, first of all, the weather is terrible and no one knows about this exit,” he begins, “second of all, my friend owns the place, so we'll hang out in the employee lounge until it's time to go.”

You visibly frown at the plan, still worried about your work items, but Wooyoung catches it — gently placing his hand on your wrist just as he had the first time the both of you met.

“We'll...figure it out, okay? Trust me. But we gotta get out of here before security calls security.”

Darting through the doors, Wooyoung holds your hand tightly into his as the two of you slosh through the downpour of the great outdoors — cold and windier than you both had anticipated, when the wind catches you and the bulkiness of your belongings just right, Wooyoung tightens his grip even more as he feels you veer off of the trail. You call out to him once, pulling your things against you as best as you can and he only calls back, “I know!” before finding some sort of shelter where you can hide for the time being.

And once inside, you realize how cramped it is.

It's a totally spur of the moment decision obviously, and not much else to work with, you know this — crammed face to face between two metal sheets in an otherwise packed construction shed — but you're able to shrug your bags off of your shoulder and push them to the side with your foot to grant you a bit more space as you attempt to wring out your hair, dress, and cardigan.

Eventually, when Wooyoung comes back to mind, you look up at him — thin, wet, t-shirt clinging to every curve and dip of the muscle in his chest, hair windswept and just as wet as everything else — and you try not to take notice, or allow your eyes the freedom to trail down, because you remember that he left in sweatpants, and that's plenty good enough to go off of.

But with not much space between you and the hastiness in which you arrived, Wooyoung's thigh ends up not so gently crammed just between your legs.

You notice. You can't help but to notice, you can only hope that he doesn't.

However unlikely that may be.

The first violent shiver of the cold air taking the wetness of your body, you insist that Wooyoung ignores, and he does, at your request — but by the second, he's not so willing to listen to orders.

Taking you by the wrist, the man pulls you forward and against him, your hands only able to catch yourself on his shoulders to keep from falling completely flat against his body, and you have no choice but to force down the sound that being pulled up and along his leg threatens to elicit.

'Bite it back, bitch,' you tell yourself in thought.

“Don't be difficult, it's freezing out here,” Wooyoung finally says, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you pressed into him. “Keeping you from catching pneumonia isn't really my go-to move.”

You chuckle, the only thing you can do at the ridiculousness of the situation. Turning to look outside as the rain beats loudly against the shed that the both of you take shelter in, Wooyoung shifts again, causing the top of his thigh to press upwards and harder against you. Eyes screwing shut, you try to steady your breathing — it's so dumb, you think as the situation unfolds, feeling like a teenager who can't keep it in her pants but in a situation where it otherwise wouldn't be an issue if it weren't for the fact that the hot guy that you work with — who almost definitely wants to fuck you — is currently lodged against your pussy with either not a clue and therefore doesn't have the knowledge to keep still, or very much aware and no interest in keeping still.

You didn't even really want to know which one it was, you just had to wait for the rain to lighten up.

“Hey.”

You turn your head to match Wooyoung's gaze, air finally drying out his hair a bit to leave it more air dried than soaking wet. He looks good, you hate that.

“You ever hook up with anyone you worked with?”

Mind reader? Gross.

You choose to ignore the implications, answering in a way that doesn't satiate the curiosity that he's hoping for. “Yeah, I used to date a guy who worked for the same company I did before I went freelance.”

“That's not what I mean,” Wooyoung frowns. Of course he wouldn't let you get away with it. “I mean an idol. The talent.”

Clearing your throat, you find that your proximity to Wooyoung that once offered a comforting warmth was now emitting far more of a scalding heat, and with your palms pressed to his shoulders, you manage to free yourself from him slightly, back against the metal sheet behind you and creating space between you and the nosy man just in front of you.

“No, I have not.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know!” you snap, not angry but unsure of what it is that he's fishing for. “Just...never been in a situation where that was a realistic thing that could happen, I guess. It's not really something that I seek out. I'm there to work.”

“You've never wanted to?” Wooyoung then says, tone dropping slightly and a small shift of his leg. It's enough that you can ignore it, but with your face fully visible to him now, you're not sure how much you can fake it if he starts to catch on and get braver. “Never desired someone?”

He's extremely perceptive.

“And what about you?” you ask back, table turned to grant you some proverbial breathing room. “Hongjoong sure made it seem like this was the sort of thing you do often.”

“Hongjoong is terrible at keeping his mouth shut, that much is for sure,” Wooyoung chuckles, then reaching forward with one hand and finding the hem of your dress — pressed up the length of your thigh only slightly due to his own having your legs agape. “But he is right, I do like older women.”

“So you just hit on every stylist that comes into contact with you?” you laugh, trying to ignore the burning sensation of his fingers playing with the cloth on your thigh, or the way that his eyes are smoldering and locked onto you.

“No, of course not, I'd have had a reputation that you'd have heard of by now if that were the case.”

That was true.

“So no, hitting on the stylist isn't a first for me, if you must know,” he adds coyly, hand now slowly sliding up and against your bare skin. You freeze against his touch. Is this really happening? Here? Now?

“I play with a lot of them for fun, and they play with me, but rarely does it leave the fitting room.”

You swallow hard, and when he shifts again suddenly you aren't prepared — his words, his touch, it's all too distracting for when the press against you comes — breath hitching in your throat for a split second before biting your lip in an attempt to pull the involuntary reaction back.

Too late, though.

Wooyoung looks down, seeing the positioning of his leg between your own and finally makes the connection with a devilish grin — looking up at you from through eyelashes, he hums in response, hand that had once begun a journey up your leg now stilled at the outer side, fingers playfully dipping into the elastic of your panties as if having a plan in mind all along.

“Oh, I see,” he sing-songs at you, deliberately pushing up and into you for the first time, and it certainly makes the difference — your head falling back against the steel lightly. “You know it's funny, I genuinely did not mean to do that.”

“Don't laugh,” you sigh out, now on your last leg of having the composure to not give in to him, and to yourself. “I'm not going to have sex with you, I don't have sex with clientele.”

Humming again, the man begins a steady, slow pace of flexing his thigh up and against you, hand coming around to feel what he can of you that isn't taken up by the space of his leg, and with his fingertip only finding slick wetness that water doesn't have, he smiles again.

“Fine,” he responds with a tone that's only just above a whisper. “But I can still make you come.”

“Shut up,” you whimper out, knowing that your resolve is falling away with every second that you're near him and even faster with every word that he says. You say that you won't fuck him, but truth be told: you're not completely convinced of it yourself. “I—, I—“ you attempt to say, always cut off by the way he feels against you, and even distracted by the lone finger that gently rubs at you from the side as best as he can.

You open your eyes, an attempt to come back down to earth from how quickly you're giving yourself up to this man, but your eyes immediately drop to catch the protrusion in his sweatpants — still wet and fabric clinging to the girth, you swallow hard and bring your eyes back up fast.

That knowledge was the last thing you needed if you were to make any sort of strong attempt not to have sex with him.

“Like what you see?” Wooyoung says playfully, a nod to the silly line often heard in comedies or pornography.

Unfortunately, you do.

You feel him shifting again, having to mull up the braves to allow your eyes to fall back down that way to find out what it was he was up to, and once the courage is mustered, you grant it to yourself.

It was a mistake.

“God,” is all you whisper out at the sight — Wooyoung's beautiful hand wrapped loosely around himself, lazily stroking in time with the ministrations of his leg up and against you, and it's all just a little bit too much.

“Watch,” he says, this time no jest in his voice and the pace of his thigh picking up just slightly. “You don't want to watch me?”

In the moment, you think that you would literally not ever want to watch anything other than that ever again.

Eyes coming back down, first to meet his own — half-lidded and mouth slightly parted, a beautiful sight before you, the visual of him palming over himself for your viewing pleasure — getting off on nothing else but the sight of you riding his leg.

The visual serves to be more stimulating than you'd have liked to admit, feeling the familiar bubbling in your abdomen, you try to find something that you can brace your hands on to give yourself more leverage — since the both of you are now resigned to letting this moment play out — and Wooyoung catches on quickly, choking out a “use me,” between steady, rhythmic pumps of his fist along himself.

You lean forward, hands on his shoulders again — now able to feel him work himself beneath you as you rut against his leg and if you weren't already so worked up, you might have been embarrassed about how quickly your orgasm approaches you.

“W—Wooyoung, I—“

“Good, good girl,” he groans, rhythm of his arm beginning to give out at the implications of your orgasm fast approaching, but it's the next words that truly wreck you. More than you may have ever anticipated outside of that singular moment in time.

“Use me.”

And it breaks you. Orgasm washing over you — it's not particularly hard or overwhelming, the circumstances not exactly granting themselves to having an earth shattering sexual experience, but Wooyoung follows you shortly after — high pitched whine escaping him as his eyes screw shut, ropes of cum painting his fisted fingers as he gently finishes himself just next to you.

Taking his messy hand from himself and into your own, you bring it up and to your lips, the man before you catching on quickly despite a hazy come down and shortened breath; two of his fingers part your lips and press inside shallowly at first, then slightly deeper as he feels the way that your tongue wraps around him to clean his cum from them.

All the while with unbroken eye contact, when Wooyoung finishes imagining the way that your mouth would feel around his cock, he snorts, pulling his hand from you and grinning.

“Nah,” he begins, gently attempting to dislodge himself from between your legs. “You're definitely going to fuck me.”

With two weeks down after that late night stuck in the rain, without so much as a single sly comment about the goings on of that evening, you resign yourself to the understanding that he had gotten the interest out of his system.

And you suppose now, with the imminent danger of potentially going where you've never gone before and crossing that line, you can admit to yourself that deep down, you're a little disappointed in that fact. He had made quite the compelling case, after all.

And a beautiful cock, at that.

You do, however, find it charming that his behavior never really changes towards you. Even in spite of the bizarre intimacy that comes with watching the other come without having ever so much as shared a kiss, Wooyoung plops himself into your stylist chair just as he always has — hair a mess and tank top a bit too loose for your liking given your coming to terms with not ever having sex with him, you allow yourself one good look across the expanse of skin he's happy to show, and even with knowing that he sit in the reflection watching your eyes rake over him with a slight curl of his lip, you still can't help yourself.

Besides, what's one more good look? It's not the only part of him you've seen.

Tapping on his phone as you begin brushing into his hair from behind, Wooyoung asks you how you are today, just as normal. No suspicious tone, seemingly no ulterior motive.

“The same as always, how are you?” you respond, still tugging at the strands.

“Better now that I get to see my work wife,” he quickly responds, as if the entire premise of the conversation had simply been a set up for him to lay this one on you.

And if his intent was to trip you up, you were ashamed at how well it worked, freezing up instantly just before shaking it loose and carrying on. “Work wife? Is it okay that you joke like that?”

“Why not?” Wooyoung chuckles, looking up at you through the reflection of the mirror in front. “Also, your legs look crazy in those jeans.”

Heat rushing to your face, not wanting to look to either side at whether or not another stylist or member is listening in on the conversation, you lean down toward him and rush to a whisper. “Okay you definitely can't say that!”

“Of course not,” Wooyoung whispers back, turning his head just an inch to nearly meet your skin with his mouth. “Let me see you.”

Instantaneously, you pull back from him — back into working position and fight back the embarrassment of what's taking place. Wooyoung only grins again, looking back down to his phone and not pushing the topic any further.

When the guys begin exiting the room one by one to begin shooting, Wooyoung exits last, but not before stuffing his hand into the back pocket of your pants and maintaining a knowing eye contact with you for far too long.

You want to think that he left something in your pocket, but knowing him, just wanting to touch your ass isn't a possibility you can completely write off.

When the rest of the staff leave besides the other stylists, you manage to pull away just enough to check your pocket, feeling the presence of a small slip of paper — clearly what Wooyoung had intended on you finding, with a phone number scribbled on it. Nothing else.

Sure, you wish to be stronger than to give into the allure of the sexy, younger guy that you work with, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said that you weren't delighted at the prospect that he had not, in fact, lost interest just yet.

>you: hey, it's me.

It's all you send. Playing it cool and not at all desperate being paramount in this exchange now in order to maintain your dignity.

After all, you said you wouldn't have sex with him and now here you are, texting him knowing fully well that that is precisely what he's after. Perhaps you just needed a push in the right direction, but not without being able to feign a lack of interest, first.

It's only fifteen minutes later that he responds, and given you know they're recording, you expected it to be longer.

>big trouble: who is this? who is me?

You roll your eyes, but immediately move to reply.

>you: you know who, the woman whose ass you just groped so that I would contact you.

The signal of his typing pops up just as quickly.

>big trouble: you'll have to be more specific :p

He begins typing again.

>big trouble: kidding, what do you have me saved as in your phone? don't use my name!!

>you: oh darn I actually had it saved as group name plus full name and flashed it around when you replied, is that going to be a problem?

You become hyper aware of how you're smiling at your phone in the presence of other people, you try to bite it back as to not raise any awareness, but relatively unsuccessful in doing so.

He is so fucking charming, and fuck if you didn't enjoy his company.

A few more minutes pass before he begins typing again, close to ten when a response finally comes through.

>big trouble: sorry replies are gonna be spotty until we get out of here. let me see you.

You realize now, upon him saying it to you again — that you're not even entirely sure of what he means by that. See you: naked? Date? Outside of here? Too many options to just assume, but you also hate to ask — stomach bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of what it could mean, you realize that even you have to figure out just what, exactly, your intentions are with this guy.

But if you want to know something, all you can do is ask.

>you: what do you mean “see me”

Immediate typing again.

>big trouble: not at work, preferably with your legs over my shoulders and my face buried in your pussy.

Locking your phone you immediately press it face down and into the couch cushion next to you. Inhaling deeply, you close your eyes for a second to recollect yourself; steady breathing, and desperately trying to ignore the ache growing between your legs from just a single line of text.

You feel your phone vibrate again and can't even be sure you're ready to read whatever insane thing he's sent next, but suppose you can't just leave him on read. Not on that note.

Not when you're particularly interested in the proposition yourself.

Slowly picking your cell back up, carefully looking around to make sure no one can spy in — now not necessarily about it being who you're texting but generally speaking sexting is frowned upon in professional settings — you illuminate the screen to confirm that the incoming message is indeed, from him.

You open it.

>big trouble: i'm flexible though, actually hope you are too <3

Sick with how you can hear his tongue in cheek tone even through text, you get it together enough to finally begin typing out a response — not entirely sure what to say, given you don't necessarily want to agree to doing anything with the man just yet, and especially not like this.

>you: is that a good idea?

With some time having passed since his reply, you know that he's probably off working again — setting your phone down you exhale heavily, leaning your head back against the couch.

But all you can think about is Wooyoung's sandwiched between your thighs.

The buzzing from your phone brings you back, and you open it in more of a hurry than maybe you would have liked — much too eager to find the next insane thing that the man has to say to you.

>big trouble: oh no it definitely isn't

>big trouble: that's kind of the fun of it though

>big trouble: get into a little trouble with me, but i'll make it worth your time if you let me

You don't doubt him for even a second. Another text comes in.

>big trouble: I think you want to play with me, like a little bit

In the moment, the only thing that you can offer in response is that you'll think about it, still not completely willing to give yourself up to the desire of having him, or letting him have you — an obvious conquest of sorts on his end, of which he seemingly stacks up notches on his bed post — but you need time to decide if you're willing to make peace with being just that in exchange for getting what it is that you want from him, anyways.

Mutually beneficial? Absolutely. You just have to decide if the juice is worth the squeeze.

Two days out from wrapping filming, backstage is hectic — corridors lined with people running back and forth, darting in and out of rooms and racks of clothing and shoes serving as a make shift obstacle course everywhere you go, it's nothing you're not used to, and despite working for ATEEZ as a group, in ways you found yourself assuming the position as Wooyoung's handler in particular — occasionally Hongjoong's as well, enjoying his quips and stories as sort of an old soul in the body of a young man who took comfort in placing himself in otherwise awkward scenarios between you and the man you were almost definitely going to have sex with — you could only assume that Hongjoong had caught wind, and not because Wooyoung told him, but because he was quick on the uptake.

And he found it humorous.

Winding through the halls pushing the both of them out and ahead of you towards where they need to go, it's Hongjoong first who greets the senior idol exiting their dressing room to the left, then Wooyoung, and then you.

But you know them already.

One of the idols of the groups that you already get on with quite well, it's a friendly greeting, and you certainly can feel Wooyoung watching it all too intently — as if trying to poke a hole in a story once told to him in fabrication.

Saying your goodbyes, the three of you push forward again, not long before reaching just back stage and to your destination. You pull Hongjoong first, doing some last minute touches on his hair and eye makeup before sending him on his way, then Wooyoung — pouting like a baby as you press fingers into the sides of his hair that had fallen and now needed retouching.

“Oh geez, what?” you huff out quietly, thankful for the goings on around you that no one would hear you even if any one had time to stop and eavesdrop on the conversation.

“You two were cozy, huh?” he says — playfully, but you think it might be a ruse.

Wiping excess hair wax from his temple and shoving a clip into your mouth due to lack of hands, you look him dead in the eyes. “Wooyoung, I haven't slept with him, oh my God—“ you exasperate, slicking more product into his head, “and even if I had, none of your business.”

You watch as his eyes narrow, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at your bitter words and begins to curl his lips into a smile just before telling him that he's finished and to go do his job.

“I know,” he says under his breath, leaning forward momentarily. “Was just hoping to hear the story if there was one.”

It's sinister in tone, like he's already getting off a little on the prospect of hearing about you getting fucked by another man, and the more you think of it in that split second, the less you would even be surprised if that had been the case. But Wooyoung continues to look at you as he steps backwards and towards where it is he needs to go — a display of power, in ways.

You're not sure you could run this guy off if you tried.

Hours later into the evening and close to midnight, you just about finish packing up your things, placing bags by the door next to all of the other stylists and managers items also eager and ready to head off and get rest before the last day of filming before you catch from the corner of your eye — phone laid out on the table and face up, illuminated in the dim lighting of a room soon to no longer be occupied for the day. Stretching your arm out and reaching towards it, almost immediately you recognize the length of name on the screen that alerts you of who it is that's contacting you.

You glance around yourself, just to be sure.

>big trouble: let me see you tonight.

Stomach jumping into your chest, to say yes to him is a big step. You're aware that at any point in time you can rescind said yes, but all the same — even just the logistics of getting him into your place to begin with comes with it's own set of worries and challenges and truth be told; you hadn't put any thought into such a plan.

But you still kind of wanted to.

>you: how?

He begins typing just as quickly as your response sends.

>big trouble: i'll take my managers car, just say yes if it's yes don't worry about the rest.

Realistically you know that it's him on the line. Sure, it wouldn't look great for you as a freelancer if it started getting around that you take home men from work, but not nearly the same career expectations are in place. You take a second to mull it over before attempting to respond. He sends another text through in the meantime.

>big trouble: please if I have to see you in those jeans again and not suffocate in your cunt I think i'll fucking die.

You appreciate his eagerness, as does the throb between your legs in anticipation. He sure knows how to talk to a lady.

And despite the reluctance, you give in, sending over your address in the next text, along with the demand that if he not be there by 12:30am to not bother showing up at all, it's a long work day the next one, after all.

An immediate reply again, you pull your bags onto your arms and head out of the doorway before reading his response.

>big trouble: I have every intention of putting you to sleep.

When 12:18am ticks on the oven clock in your kitchen, one glass of wine down in anticipation and an attempt to calm your nerves, you start to assume that he's not coming. Perhaps he had come to his senses, or got held up and wasn't able to make it.

But just as suddenly as the thought comes to you, a buzzing on your door sounds, and your heart drops to your stomach — bubbling in anxiety and the possibility of what's going to happen now. Now that the both of you will be properly alone. Now that...he's here, and with hours to spare.

Setting the glass down onto the table, you clear your throat and make your way towards the door, checking the peep hole despite knowing precisely who it is that you will find — it's charming, in a way: Wooyoung standing there in baseball cap and mask, heavily bundled in an attempt to not be found out on his naughty little rendezvous. He's brave, you gotta give it to him.

Opening the door slowly, Wooyoung slips in, pulling both adornments from his head before you're even able to close the door completely, then moving to kick his shoes off. He looks at you, shrugging his jacket off and placing it onto the rack just next to him.

“I can't believe you're still wearing those fucking jeans.”

And as taken aback as you are by it being the first words to leave his mouth upon entering your apartment, more than that, you're taken by being immediately pushed back and towards the couch — his eyes flat and narrow and completely darkened by lust as your behind eventually finds the cushion and Wooyoung immediately falls to his knees between your legs.

Pulling himself up and beginning to grapple with the button and zipper of your jeans, he leans up and finally kisses you — for the first time, you're reminded again — plush, hot lips messily pressing into your own, it's evident just in that contact alone how much he's been wanting this moment, greedy and quick and not at all making a point of taking his time before pulling away to loosen the fabric from your legs and toss it elsewhere on the floor beside him.

Wooyoung comes back up, kissing you again and just as hungrily as before — feeling his fingers dip into the elastic hip of your panties, before once again pulling back to release those of you as well.

He breaks the cycle then, bringing up the flat of his fingers against your pussy to feel the heat radiating off of your skin before looking up at you and resuming said cycle — pressing his mouth hard against yours again, trailing down the corner and along your jaw — teeth grazing lightly against the skin as the tip of his middle finger gently dips between your folds to tease at you. Breath hitching in your throat at the contact, you feel him grin into your skin.

“W—Wooyoung,” you choke out, intensity of the situation all consuming and somehow more heavy set than you had even expected.

“What?”

But you forget what it was you were even planning on saying once his finger makes proper contact with your clit — perhaps it was nothing, just an airy exasperation of his name altogether, but just as quickly as everything else the man between your legs pulls from you and pulls you down by the legs, ass edging on the side of the sofa and propping your legs up on his shoulders just as he had said he would — wasting no time thereafter going to work on you.

And you didn't expect him to be lying about what he would or wouldn't do if given the opportunity, but his eagerness right then and there — tongue pressing hard circles into your clit just before applying ample suction against you with his lips, not unwilling to make a mess of himself in the process and, from what you can tell, all the more delighted in doing so as his face glistens with each time that he pulls away to reposition — with eyes screwed shut and one arm tossed over your face in an attempt to stay grounded, the other reaches down, finding its way along the top of his head, fingers curling into hair that only hours earlier you were neatly decorating and clipping into place — hair now entangled and tightly gripped as Wooyoung makes alarmingly quick work of your body from your living room floor.

Bringing a hand up, he delicately presses one finger in, finding little resistance, and adds a second upon his following drive into you. Hand pumping into you at a slow, almost excruciating pace, Wooyoung focuses all of the attention on sucking you harder, faster with the way that your breaths pick up and become weaker, whines higher pitched than before — and if you weren't close before, the additional stimulation gets you climbing that peak all that much faster, gripping hard into his hair as you whimper out his name again, this time far more broken than the time previously.

But like a good man, he doesn't stop — bringing his eyes up to watch as you fall apart above him, you open your eyes only briefly to take in the sight, his eyes smiling back at you with the pretty little adornment of the beauty mark just beneath one.

You cuss, grinding hard down and against his mouth, and come undone against him just like that. Wooyoung sucks you through your orgasm, shallowly pressing fingers into you before removing them altogether as your high dissipates. Chest heaving, you lie in the afterglow of your peak, eyes still closed from exhaustion in the aftermath.

Wooyoung chuckles from between your legs. Cracking open your eyes, you find him settled back and on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looks at you with unbridled satisfaction.

“I've been dying to do that,” he finally says, leaning forward and snaking the palms of his hands up your bare thighs, thumbs catching on the hem of your shirt and pressing upwards with insistence that you allow him to remove it. You grant him the access, pulling your back off of the couch long enough for him to pull the fabric up and over your head and watching as he happily tosses it elsewhere before leaning down and pressing his mouth against your own again.

The kiss is brief though, before a man on a mission makes his way back down from where he came but with stops along the journey — nimble hands reaching around the back of you and working to remove your bra — before you even have a moment to settle, plump, warm lips and tongue press into your now exposed flesh and the feeling of him; so encompassing and overwhelming has you squirming in desire beneath him as if you hadn't just come already.

“I need you,” he whispers into your skin, tongue circling your nipple between commentary. “Please, I need to feel you so bad, you drive me crazy.”

You're not sure what it is, the unabashed neediness or just the fact that it's him or maybe even the combination of the two — a man so young and famous and sexy that he could have anyone he desired and yet right now, in this moment, he makes you feel as though the only person or thing he's ever desired so badly in his life...is you.

It's as if the burning throb of arousal never even left you.

“Noona, please.”

It wasn't typically something that did it for you, and in fact, you never understood why it really 'did it' for anyone — but you had to be honest, it was working for you now.

Needy whining, begging, spilling from Wooyoung as his mouth lingers across the expanse of exposed skin. You ask him to take his shirt off and he follows through immediately, only to come back up to pick up where he had left off, but the feeling of his own hot skin against your own only serving to light you up even further.

“Switch places,” you whisper to him, and he follows order without question, pulling up quickly and allowing you space between his legs. Palms grazing over the top of his thighs, you smile up at him at the sight before you. “Same sweats as that one night?”

“Coincidence,” he answers, voice already slightly broken at the implications of what's to come, so you waste no time gripping into the waistband of his pants and pulling down his legs, freeing him and finally becoming more acquainted with what it was that had your interest really piqued since that night only a couple of weeks prior.

“Don't seem so tough now, you know,” you mock, taking his length into your hand and lazily pumping him, his eyes glued to the way you make contact on him.

“Wait until I get you in the bedroom,” he answers, tone lower and less broken now — as if snapping back to reality to assert some form of dominance that had never really had a place in the interaction prior.

You inch forward, taking him into your mouth shallowly, tongue wrapping circles along the tip as he melts into your mouth — both hands coming forward to hold onto your hair. He's not rough, and not assuming the pace, but with every press down of your mouth along him you take him deeper and deeper, his mouth dropping open just that much more at the feeling of your warmth along his shaft.

“Feel so good, you feel so good,” he chants under his breath as you bob along him — a steady rhythm but not so fast with intent to get him there, Wooyoung's head falls back to take in the feeling. “That's it baby, you take it so well.”

The praise has your pussy throbbing all over again, pace on his cock quickening unbeknownst to you just at the prospect of what other filthy things will fall from those beautiful lips.

So, you play along.

Pulling off of him briefly and replacing the sensation with your hand, you look up at him, quickly fisting him and occasionally licking a circle around the tip. “Yeah? That why you like older women? Like the experience?”

Wooyoung groans at the words as if you accidentally stumbled upon some kink that he hadn't made you all that privy to to begin with, hips bucking up into your hand as his eyebrows furrow, “Yeah, know your way around a cock, don't you?”

“I do,” you answer, stuffing him back into your mouth without warning and taking him down a few times just to listen to him groan deeply at the sight and sensation before pulling back up. “Hoping I fucked that guy back there just so you could be sure?”

“Little bit,” he chuckles through a whine as you continue to jerk him off along side the conversation. “Kinda like hearing about it, too.”

“Nasty boy,” you tease in reply, licking a stripe up his shaft before circling around the head of his cock again and watching the way his eyes roll back.

But just as suddenly, Wooyoung snaps forward, pulling your hand off of him and standing up to pull you with him towards the bedroom. “This one?” he asks, simultaneously shoving you inside of it as if the answer you provided wouldn't have matter to begin with, but you assure him that it is, in fact, the correct room as he continues pulling you towards the bed — turning to lie himself on it first before reaching for your wrist and pulling you down to straddle his hips.

You assume the position, grinding gently against his length as he brings you into a sloppy kiss again, you pull off of him not long thereafter, hands flat against his chest as you slide against him.

“All this talk just so I can ride you, eh? Lazy boy,” you say with the same teasing voice as before.

But Wooyoung shakes his head, hands quickly making their way up the length of your thighs and settling on your waist as you hover above his aching cock.

“I just have to see you ride my cock, please, I'll fuck you stupid afterwards, I'll have you begging for it, baby—“ he pleads, one hand slipping down between the two of you to align himself with your entrance, other hand gently pulling you down onto his shaft as he continues on. “—Wanted me to fill you up that night, but I'll do it tonight instead.”

It's an unfortunate giveaway the way his words have such an affect on you, already nearly fully seated on him when the nasty implications of the plans he has for you that evening drop from his sinful lips — walls clenching hard around him, so much so that he groans at the feeling as you sink down to fully take him in. Wooyoung's fingers dig into the skin of your hips as you gently begin to rock against him, thick girth of him tugging at you in all of the ways that you knew it would when you saw it — so full and stretched that even the slightest movement pulls at your clit as you ride him ever so delicately. You whimper shortly thereafter at the feeling he provides you, your nails now digging into the skin of his chest as he watches the space between the both of your hips — watching how your cunt struggles to accommodate his size and yet does so regardless, he allows his head to fall back against the mattress, taking in the feeling of the moment as you bite back your pathetic, flustered, sounds.

“Feel so good, baby,” he finally says, rubbing your thighs as you attempt to ride him to any useful degree. “Is it what you wanted? When you thought about it, is it better?” he adds, pressing his hips up ever so slightly to meet your own as you drop down onto him, a louder hiss dropping from you at the added friction.

“Awww,” he coos teasingly as he watches the way you struggle on top of him. “Mommy's good at talking but not so good at taking it, huh?”

You're not proud of the way that sentence goes straight to your pooling arousal.

And just as quickly, Wooyoung pulls you off of him to switch you places, pressing your back to the mattress as he adjusts himself between your legs.

“I can come in you?” he asks suddenly, and it feels almost random, as if breaking scene in a film. So sudden that you almost don't catch it, but coming back to reality, you nod.

“Uh, y—yeah.”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” he replies, leaning back down and pressing his chest into your own to kiss you — head of his cock teasingly dangling just against your pussy and occasionally grazing your sensitive clit, you press your hips up and into him in an attempt to make the contact that you want, Wooyoung chuckling devilishly against the skin of your chin and neck as you struggle to achieve what you set out for.

“Not as good at taking my cock as I thought you'd be,” he playfully pouts, lips attaching into the skin just at the juncture of your neck and shoulder to suck red and purple blotches into it. “But mommy, you were supposed to be so good.”

The tone in which the words drop from his lips, quite evidently mocking, playful, toying with you and the idea of the age play of it all. You knew that this was part of it for him, you had been warned.

But you didn't know it was going to do it for you, in addition.

“Guess we have to try again,” he whispers, lips trailing up a bit higher and just under your ear. “Probably better off if I'm in control, huh?”

With that, Wooyoung begins his slow drive into you once again — for a man that talks so much about your inability to take him, and being in control, you find his attention to your comfort almost surprising — not taking it quickly and giving you ample time to adjust to the intrusion even in spite of it not being the first time that night that you had taken him, once bottomed out, he settles for a few moments; kissing and sucking along your neck, along with babbling words of affirmation and encouragement all the while before pulling his hips back and slowly pressing forward once again.

The fullness of him is almost stifling, though — and paired with the fact that he won't shut the fuck up through it.

Five or six more delicate drives into you and Wooyoung begins to settle into a more fluid pace, rocking his hips against your own with hard impact but not entirely quick, every push of his cock into you more brutal than the last as he hovers above you and watches the way your face contorts with glee.

“Look at you, so good,” he groans in between snaps of his hips, hands flat against the mattress and on either side of your head to watch the way your cunt takes him. “Aww, I was wrong, you take my cock so well, I knew you would.”

Clenching hard around him with praise, your hands clasp around his arms, nails digging into the tan, hot skin with every drive of himself against you — the sound of wet skin against skin reverberating through your bedroom, and more than that, the sight of Wooyoung's bottom lip sucked up and between his teeth — arms and chest flexing with every movement of his hips.

The familiar feeling of your impending orgasm felt building once again at a particularly hard thrust from him, you cry out, catching his attention. Wooyoung slows, not entirely sure of how to take the sound, but is just as quickly met with your babbling and begging of him not to stop, to which he grins and resumes his rough pace into you.

Leaning down and wrapping an arm up and under your shoulder for more leverage to pull your body down and against him, chest to chest like this, Wooyoung continues his previous ministrations on your skin with his mouth, nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck, collar bones, jaw and mouth as he fucks hard into you — harder now with the positioning, you cry out again and louder even, much to his delight.

“Fuck, Wooyoung—“ you whisper against his mouth, feeling your orgasm threatening in the not so distant future.

“Yeah baby?” he coos back, so gentle in tone and completely opposing the brutality of the way he's fucking you. “Gonna come? Gonna come for me? Just from my cock, nothing else?”

You nod wildly, the way he's talking to you bringing you to the edge even faster — muscles tightening in your abdomen and losing the ability to verbally communicate to much extent at all.

“Good, good, you're so good,” he babbles into your skin, grip on your shoulder tightening even more. “Love it when you say my name, God you're so perfect.”

You whine, pulling forward to press your mouth into his shoulder just in front of you.

“Want me to come inside of you now? Make you mine? You know I want to so bad, want to fill you up so bad.”

Your insides twist at the way he's nearly begging to, despite already having been given the go ahead to do so. All a part of the game, you figure.

It's working, though.

You nod again, but Wooyoung brings his free hand over and to your clit, taking it between his fingers and thumb to force you into eye contact with him.

“Gotta say it, noona, can you say it for me?”

Your fingers dig into him harder, you're reaching inevitability much faster than you had originally intended with the way that he's talking to you, and the anticipation of just what it is he'll say next.

You knew he was gonna be a wild ride, but you didn't anticipate him to be this much of a freak.

“God, noona, please say it, please noona say you want me to come in you, I want to so bad.”

“Wooyoung, Jesus, I'm gonna—“

But he stills, cock buried deep inside of you as you whine at the loss of your incoming peak, shocked at the fact that he would do it.

You're not proud of your next step, either.

“Wooyoung, please, please, don't stop—“ you beg, trying to fuck yourself onto him in an attempt to reach your orgasm, and he does start a drive into you again, albeit much more delicate and less hearty than previous.

“Wow, so whiny,” he chides against your ear, shallowly thrusting into your soaking wet cunt with no intention behind it at all. “I'll give you what you want noona — thick, young, cock to come around, yeah?” he whispers, the words sending chills down your spine paired with the way that the tip of his length dips in and out of you teasingly.

“That what you want?” he whispers again.

“Yes,” you whine in response.

“Want me to come in you too, don't you?” he adds, nose nuzzling into the side of your face as he begins a proper push of his length back inside of you. “Fill you up? Pump a nice, hot load into your tight little cunt?”

It's the first time in the night that his dirty talk had been so lewd, so filthy. Slow drive of his cock back into you and even with the tiniest friction that it provides, just the words alone have you building back up to that place that only moments ago he had stripped from you just as quickly.

You'll do and say anything, now.

“Yes, Wooyoung, please,” you whisper, his hips snapping into you two, three times at the words. “Please daddy—“

The both of you stop as a point of both shock and confusion, neither expecting the word dropping out so suddenly, and not one typically on your repertoire, but Wooyoung seems to take it happily and in stride with an accompanying small giggle, quickly falling into the role that is required of him and driving hard against your hips at the pace once lost all over again — teeth baring against your cheek as he does so.

“Daddy? Well I wasn't planning on it but if you want it so bad,” Wooyoung grits out, reaching down with one hand and pulling one of your legs up and out. “I can fuck a baby into you, too. That why you want me to fill you up so bad? Want me to give you one?”

“Oh my God, Wooyoung, I—“ you groan, nails digging so hard into his skin that you fear you may actually hurt him, muscles in your abdomen tightening so suddenly, so hardly that it takes you by surprise — thick cock still pounding hard into you at an even better angle now, and Wooyoung begins kissing against your skin again.

“Feel so good around me, God, noona, come for me baby, milk me dry, wanna feel you come around my dick.”

muscles locking up, sound catching in your throat, your orgasm rips through your body with little more warning and nearly silently — stilling beneath the man as he continues to fuck you through your high, chasing his own and praising you through it as you do.

“Gonna come baby,” he groans at the impending orgasm of his own. Pulling up and off of you slightly he looks back down between the two of you before meeting your fucked out gaze again and screwing his own eyes shut. “Fuck, noona, fuck you full of me, God I'll ruin this pussy, yeah?”

Two, three more drives into you, Wooyoung buries his cock deep before stilling, head dropping as he growls through his release into you — gentle, shallow thrusts accompanying him as he begins to pull himself out of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ he whispers as he finally expels his body from yours completely at the feeling of the overstimulation on his dick, flopping over onto the side of you and clenching his eyes shut for a moment as he attempts to steady his breathing in the aftermath.

Even having had more time to settle than him, you're not that much better off.

Silence takes the room beyond heavy breathing, you look over to take in the sight of the light sheen of sweat adorning the man's beautiful body, unsure if you'll ever even get the chance to enjoy this again — if you were to want to, that is. Wooyoung cards his fingers through black and gold hair, pulling most off of his slick forehead before turning to you to meet your gaze. Somewhat embarrassed upon having been caught looking at him, he only smiles gently, as if to tell you that it's okay. That the two of you are past such silly formalities, as it were.

“Hey,” you whisper, searching for his stray hand among the crumpled sheets beneath you.

“Yeah?”

“You're kind of a sicko, you know that?”

Wooyoung laughs, so much so and with such a dry throat that it sends him into a coughing fit as a result. You reach for a bottled water that you have on your nightstand and hand it to him for him to lubricate with, clearing his throat and handing the bottle back to you before attempting to respond to such accusations.

“Maybe so,” he finally says. “But you sure liked it. What's that say about you?”

“Who knows,” you reply, staring at the ceiling as if soul searching for the answers to such questions. “Maybe we're just particularly, disgustingly matched.”

“Maybe so.” Wooyoung nods, adjusting comfortably into the bed beneath him.

On the last day of filming, everything carries on as normal.

You're not entirely sure what story Wooyoung told the others as to why he never came home last night — having slept the rest of the night with you and the two of you having to devise quite the plan to leave from the same place and arrive to the same place without anyone being in on the pick up, but you figure that you manage with no bizarre or questioning looks upon your entry — and Wooyoung already seated and waiting, ready for you to begin to get to work on him.

As he ticks away on his phone, you lean down towards his head questioningly.

“Did you use my shampoo?”

“What was I supposed to use?”

“Probably not the thing that smells like me?”

You watch in the reflection as he stops for a moment to mull the concept over, quite evidently having not thought about it prior to this moment, only to shrug and go back to typing on his phone.

After shooting wraps and everyone is saying their goodbyes, you thank the members and their staff for the warm welcoming and all of their help to make sure that the work environment was comfortable and smooth for you. For Hongjoong and Wooyoung especially — who you worked with most closely — the two hug you, sending you on your way, but not before Hongjoong makes some snide comment about finally being able to escape Wooyoung.

It was true, that you would finally escape the grip of that man, however, wanting to escape? You weren't so sure.

Gently tossing your belongings into the back of a taxi, you climb in and pull your seatbelt over you, reaching towards your purse and pulling out your phone to see what your next schedule would be for the upcoming weeks, only to find a text on your phone that had come in hours prior.

>big trouble: let me see you again (not just sex way)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ hope you enjoyed! please check out my navigation for more (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

#wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic

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nebulaafterdark · 5 months

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Exile (Part 4)

Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves

Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol/drug use and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY

Part 3

The reaping for the 64th hunger games, brings forth their tributes, Denali and Maximus. The girl, is sixteen and her little brother, only fourteen. Orphans, surviving solely off of tesserae and profits made from pedaling contraband at the hob.

When Y/N comes to greet them on the train, Denali has her brother tucked behind her protectively, near the table of food. “Hello.”

Denali watches her with wary eyes.

“You should eat.” Y/N tells her. “Both of you. Get your strength up for the arena.”

Maximus reaches out for a dinner roll, but his sister slaps it from his hand.

“You first.” Denali demands. She needs to be sure it’s not poisoned.

Y/N closes the space between them, taking the abandoned bread and tearing off a piece. Placing it into her mouth, she chews and swallows.

Maximus presses his lips together, gulping hard. He can almost taste it.

“My name is Y/N. I’ll be your mentor-”

“Where’s the other one? The man?”

“Haymitch is down in the bar car.” Y/N tells them.

“He’s been doing it longer, we want him.” Denali says.

“Fine.” Y/N crosses both arms over her chest, toying with the bracelet on her left wrist. “But the two of you stay here, and eat. Please eat.”

The girl narrows her gray, seam, eyes, watching the woman leave. She’s seen her before, sneaking around where she didn’t belong. The man, Haymitch, was from the seam, before he won the games. He still comes down to the hob, Denali’s sold to him a couple times. Most recently, a bracelet, woven from stitching scraps. For his wife, he’d told her…and the woman, Y/N, is wearing it.

The victors return after a long moment, their hands intertwined. Y/N appears to be leading Haymitch toward them, against his will.

Maximus and his sister stare at him, expectantly.

Haymitch smiles, “I heard you wanted to see me.”

“Y-yes. You’re our mentor and we need strategy and-”

“Woah,” Haymitch stops the girl’s train of thought, “you’re barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart.”

“What?”

“That’s her department,” Haymitch jerks his chin toward his wife.

“Then what do you do?” Denali asks.

“Enjoy the refreshments,” Haymitch lifts his glass.

————————————————————————

Upon arriving in the Capitol, Y/N and Haymitch are collected to film interviews. Caesar always finds a way to make the most of their time here. But over the years, it has proven useful in gaining sponsors for their tributes.

“We’re happy.” Haymitch reminds Y/N. “We’re in love and so glad to be here.”

Y/N nods, blinking up at him through obscenely long lashes. Vanity has done a number on her this time. Y/N is her muse, the one who inspired her to leave her position as stylist for the games and design pieces for her victor full time.

The people of the Capitol cannot get enough. Anything Y/N wears, they want to wear. Tonight is a cotton candy pink dress.

“For the first time, on this very stage, we will be joined by Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy.” Caesar announces, riling the crowd into a frenzy.

Last time they were here was their wedding day and Snow obviously had better things for them to do afterwards than gossip with Caesar Flickerman.

“Please give our newly weds a warm welcome, Y/N and Haymitch.” Caesar motions toward them from the stage, their queue to join him.

Haymitch reaches back for her hand, waving out at the crowd as they cross the floor.

Y/N greets Caesar first. He likes her better than Haymitch anyway, most people do.

————————————————————————

“Where’ve you been?” Maximus asks his mentors, after the tribute parade.

“Clearly they have more important things to do than help us.” Denali turns up her nose in their direction.

The tributes are dressed as coal miners…again.

“Do you have any idea how much a bottle of water goes for in the arena? A loaf of bread? Medicine?” Haymitch cuts in. “Those things don’t come cheap, sweetheart.”

“So what?” Denali doesn’t understand how their absence would change that.

“There’s people here with a lot of money.” Y/N explains. “The more time we spend with them, the more money they’re willing to provide our tributes. I’m sorry that we had to step away, but that’s why I supplied you with the tablets. Did you have a chance to look over the strategy files?”

Denali shakes her head of dark curls.

“That’s ok, we still have time.” Y/N assures her, “let’s go up to our floor. We can discuss it over dinner.”

————————————————————————-

The district twelve escort, a woman named Cordelia Walters, who desperately hopes to be reassigned to another district; holds the elevator for them. “Chop, chop.” She claps her hands together. Like herding animals in a zoo.

“Always a delight.” Haymitch snarks, as they step into the confined space.

Y/N huffs a laugh, pressing her lips together. Their escorts seem to have a high turnover rate. She hopes that holds true.

Dinner is tense, Cordelia can’t be bothered with listening to defense strategy details. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Oh, sure!” Y/N pipes up, “let’s discuss the up in coming fashion for the spring. I have all of Vanity’s sketches.”

“Really?” The woman squeals, “you don’t think she’ll mind?”

“Not at all.” Y/N lies, “here, take it. You can bring it back in the morning.”

“Thank you.” The Capitol woman races away, closing the door to her suite behind her.

“That’s one way to do it.” Haymitch lifts a shoulder, poking at the peas on his plate.

“Now we can talk?” Maximus asks, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.

“Yeah,” Y/N smiles. “You can start by telling me what you’re good at.”

“I’m a fast runner.” The boy tells her.

“Had to be, we’ve been running all our lives.” Denali adds, still unsure if Y/N can be trusted.

“And what about you,” Y/N asks, “what are you good at?”

“I’m strong and good with a knife.” The girl tells her. “We just need you to give us a chance.”

Y/N leans in, across the table, “we can train you, separate from the other tributes. We can supply you with anything you might need from a sponsor. We can prepare you for your interviews. No one is rooting for you more than we are.”

The four of them talk late into the night, answering questions. Exchanging stories and discussing useful weapon tactics.

Haymitch’s number one rule is not to get attached. However his wife, either cannot or will not follow it.

When they finally retire to their room, Y/N makes a mad dash for the white pills, on the bedside table. The contents rattle in her shaking hand.

“Here, angel.” Haymitch takes it from her, “that won’t help.”

“But you said-” White is for pain.

He reaches for another bottle. “Take this.” He deposits a yellow pill into her hand. Then a blue. For her nerves and to help her sleep.

Y/N swallows them down, attempting to catch her breath.

“Come here.” Haymitch wraps her up in his arms. Placing a hand over her heart and rubbing gently, “that’s where it hurts, huh?”

She nods, praying that the pills take effect soon.

“The white ones can’t help with that.” He continues, attempting to soothe the ache.

“How do you do this?” Y/N leans into him. “It’s only been four years and I feel like-”

“Before you, those ten years after I won….I drank until I blacked out and I can still see their faces. I remember their names. I see their families, back home and it never gets easier. It never gets better. But you find ways to live with it.”

Y/N lets out a sob, “I can’t. I can’t.”

“I’ll help you.” I’ll do whatever it takes.

“I want to go home.”

“I know,” Haymitch breathes. “But the pills are gonna kick in soon. Then you’ll feel better.”

“I don’t want to feel better. I want to save those kids!”

“We can try.” Haymitch says, somberly.

“If I overdose, what happens to my family?” Y/N wonders, eyelids growing heavy as Haymitch shuffles her toward the bed.

“Snow wanted to have them executed after your games. As punishment for you not killing Tyson. He was only willing to negotiate a deal, in exchange for my…work. If you kill yourself, I have nothing else to offer him. No leverage. He’ll kill them and sell me; again.” Haymitch explains, pulling off her shoes. “But I wouldn’t blame you.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. She has something to live for. Her sister, her parents and him. She has Haymitch to live for. Therefore she cannot die. “It was only a hypothetical question, I wasn’t- I wouldn’t-” leave you.

Haymitch pats her cheek, the drugs have kicked in and her tears have subsided. “Goodnight, angel.”

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @ancientbeing10 @1-800-styles @l3xi3luv @lam-ila @druby2011-blog @liballer @readinginthe-am @rae-11 @champomiel @mariechristine00

#haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy smut #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x y/n #moves & countermoves #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch smut #haymitch x reader #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games #the hunger games #exile

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Text

Met Gala

a/n Right so because I haven't yet recovered from all the strokes I've suffered from seeing that man slaying so hard. Here is something that hopefully will help. Enjoy and as always all the love is so appreciated!🤍✨

summary: very much self explanatory. Pedro and actress!reader attending met gala.

dress references: option one, two and three because like a true woman I can't pick...

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Talk about life-changing experiences. When you auditioned for The Last Of Us, you never truly believed that you could get it. You were a freshly baked actress who had successful shows in the past, but nothing too explosive. People turned their heads towards you when they just came out, and then you were back to being nothing. Fighting for the spotlight was quite something, and even if you never cared for it much, it was still important for you to do justice to the characters you got to play.

So to say that the whole experience that The Last Of Us brought to you was new and unfamiliar would be an understatement. It was your ultimate breakthrough. The opportunities were flooding in from all directions, and most of the time they included much more than just acting. Yet all the background noise aside, this was where you found your second family. People who were way more than just costars or screen buddies. You often joked with Craig that he had ruined acting for you. That no matter where you went and what you did, you would always be missing the crew of The Last Of Us.

"I still think that it's unfair that we are in separate hotel rooms", Pedro said while trying to set his phone up on the table. You two had flown to New York from different locations. Both of you were occupied with your own projects now, meaning that you haven't seen each other in a couple of weeks. The relationship between you two sparked so quickly that within a day of knowing him, it already felt like Pedro had been a lifelong friend. He was one of those people who just radiated happiness and kindness. One of those people you knew was going to leave an imprint on your life.

"If we were in the same room, I doubt we would make it onto the carpet, P", Pedro couldn't see your face fully. Your phone faced the ceiling as you tried to put on some fake lashes. All Pedro got was a glimpse at your hair full of rollers. And even that was enough to make his heart a little more jittery. Pedro had missed you. More than missed you. You two had been together every day while shooting TLOU. Always laughing. Always talking. Renting a different Airbnb to stay in if you stay in the current location for a longer time. Needing that much more than a cold hotel room. That also meant that the dynamic got rather domestic between the two of you. Waking up with you, having breakfast with you, and driving to set together. No matter where or what you did, you were always together, and that was something that ripped at Pedro's heart on a daily basis now that you two had gone your separate ways to do individual projects.

"I will have a migraine before I send him off. All I've been hearing is Y/N this, Y/N that", Coco, Pedro's stylist and one of your friends now, cut in, making Pedro let out an obnoxious gasp. "That is so not true. How dare you!", he exhaled, placing a hand over his chest offensively. But hearing your laugh on the other side of the phone was all he truly needed; Pedro felt his body at ease. "It's okay, P, separation anxiety or not, I still love you", you moved more in the frame, and Pedro instantly caught your eye. Beautiful as ever as you smiled at him. But he just shook his head, keeping up with the character, "You two are working against me today, mean ladies", before you three burst into a laugh together.

"Is Bella driving with you?", you asked once again while still fidgeting through your makeup bag. "No, they will be going earlier on. Want to avoid the chaos that builds when more people come in", you hummed at his answer. Perfectly understanding it, because the amount of paparazzi at the Met Gala was quite literally a sea. Add celebrity after celebrity climbing the infamous stairs, and you have a recipe for the chaos that is filled with endless flashing and screams. So knowing that they would be there before it all went wild eased your nerves slightly. Just deep down, you wished you could do the same thing. Fearing the moment you would have to step out of the car. What if you tripped? What if something broke? What if you messed up?

As if sensing the worry rising within you, Pedro picked up the conversation once again, "Is someone coming with you?". Pedro was worried as well. Not that much for himself, even if he wasn't a huge fan of events so flashy, but for you. Even in The Last Of Us premieres, he had noticed the way your body would run cold, and anxiety threatened to take over. He was always there to subtly bring you back. Give you something to focus on. Whether it was his hand that would rub patterns on your back, his knee that rested against your shaky leg, or his finger reaching out to playful poke your side so he could take your mind off it.

You hummed, "Yeah, Blake said he'd be there just in case", Pedro nodded his head even if you couldn't see it, satisfied with the answer. Blake was your manager and best friend. Pedro got to meet him more than a couple of times and, in all honesty, liked him. It was that extra layer of calmness that lingered, knowing that someone he also trusted would be there. Someone who had been with you through the years and who knew how to handle things if they suddenly got complicated.

"Are you excited?", you took your phone in your hands, getting a closer look at the man who Coco was fussing over. "To see you? Yes", Pedro chirped, and you rolled your eyes instantly. "You're a shameless flirt. I saw that you painted your nails". Pedro quickly showed both of his middle fingers to the camera, quite literally flipping you off. "Oh, thank you, love", you said, laughing as he quickly lowered his hand as he too realized how it looked.

Pedro was about to speak up when someone called out your name, pulling your attention away from the phone. "I'll have to go", you flashed Pedro a sad smile. "They want to tape my titties", "And I'm not getting behind-the-scenes footage?", Pedro leaned in closer, bringing his phone practically to his face as if he somehow was going to get a better look at what your stylist was going to do. "Pedro…", you laughed as you shook your head. "Will I get to see you putting on your pants?", you teased him back. Not wanting to end the call even if the lady was already waiting for you. Pedro only threw you a sheepish smile. "Who said I'm wearing any?", and once again all you could do was let out yet another laugh.

That was two hours ago, yet it seemed more like a lifetime. "Breathe, before I'll have to drag your past-down body up the stairs", Blake joked, noticing how you were running your hands up and down the fabric of your cover before moving to run your fingers over all the different beads and lace layers. "I'm just nervous", you admitted, looking through the car window. Smiling wasn't the hardest part. Most people would probably think that you're ungrateful for not wanting to go. Many would do anything to attend, but you were never a huge fan of being in the spotlight. All eyes on you sounded more like a nightmare than a dream. The thought itself made your body shiver.

"It'll be okay; pose a little and drink a lot", you rolled your eyes at him. You loved having him by your side. Not understanding why most people hate working with their best friends or family. It was such a liberating feeling knowing that you could trust Blake fully and that when you didn't feel like handling some things, he could easily do it without you since, at times, he knew you even better than you did.

Pedro knew that he was going to be there before you. Coco had told him that you were still in the hotel right before their car took off. He wasn't lying when he said that he was excited to see you. Most of his nervousness was centered around that. He knew that nothing had changed between you. If anything, things were okay, but he would have preferred to see you before the event and have a calm moment together instead of being thrown into madness like this.

He posted like he always did. Knowing well how to capture the attention of the crowd. Flipping the cameras a couple of times to show off his nails, just like he had done with you. Time escaped you in moments like this. It was always hard to tell if you'd been standing in front of the flashing lights for ten minutes or an hour. Your brain only focused on angles and poses, but then the shouting at the bottom of the stairs caught his attention.

Pedro turned to look to the side as you moved to step out of the car. He was sure that people were going to have a blast looking at his reaction afterward, but he couldn't help but look. You two purposely hid your outfits from each other. Well, at the start, you had thought about going matching and even doing the same designer, but you quickly realized that it might raise too many speculations. Pedro couldn't help but smile a proud smile as he watched you glide through the carpet. A goddess. That's what you were in his eyes. No one could come close to you, and sure, you could call him biased, but to him, you were the most beautiful female here tonight.

"Get pictures of Y/N; that's the real diamond of the night", he shouted, moving both of his arms to show you. Making you snap your head toward him. Your cool posing face was quickly replaced by a shy smile as you bit your lip. Of course, he was having a blast showing you off. "Mesmerized and speechless", he muttered to you when you were almost within reach. "Hello, daddy", you whispered as he took hold of your hand, guiding you up the steps leading to him. Pedro tilted his head laughing, saying, "Hello to you, mama". You doubted that you were thinking straight. He looked so good. The slick-back hair. The red color. You were an advocate that pink was the color Pedro owned, but red… Something about the red made all the systems shut down for a split second.

"I understand now why this was hidden from me", Pedro said, moving a step back from you so he could take your whole outfit in. He shook his head, almost in disbelief. "Don't", you warned him, trying to keep a smile off your face. This man knew how to get under your skin. He had made you redder than a tomato, even on set. Complimenting you even if you were in nothing but a baggy shirt with your hair messily pulled back. "Especially when you rolled up looking like this", you glanced down at the black shorts that he was rocking. "Where was my warning that the slutty knee was going to be on display?", but Pedro didn't say anything as he grinned, stepping alongside you. Pulling your body closer to his. His arm curled around your torso. Firmly pressing into the central boning of your dress. You could feel the warmth from his palm seeping into your tummy. He was standing just slightly behind you, but you could still see his outfit.

People were going crazy, and keeping a straight face while you posed was getting harder, especially when all you could hear were people screaming your names as an occasional they look like a couple, they must be dating. Are you together? Are you in love? Flouted around. Oh, he was going to drive you insane, and he knew it. Enjoying every single moment of it.

And even if it seemed almost impossible, Pedro stepped even closer to you and leaned in, pressing a kiss on your exposed shoulder. Your body froze for a moment. The butterflies burst inside you. If you weren't red by now, this definitely send you over the edge. You two were supposed to keep it chill. Not to bring too many eyes your way, but this man had other thoughts. Ever since the production started, people have been talking that the chemistry between you seemed way too good to just be acting. That the touches you two shared or the looks that lingered had to be a disguise for something. But then it would all mellow down as Pedro would be seen as a loving father figure to Bella or Nico. You had to find a balance. A light kiss could be brushed off as a sign of mutual respect. I don't know… mutual something?

But no… At that moment, it seemed like only you were thinking about everyone else's opinions. Pedro kissed your shoulder once before leaning back in to brush at least a couple more feather-like kisses along your skin. "Pedro", you muttered. Moving your hand to rest on his leg, you said, "You'll get us in trouble, you little shit". Your fingertips just about reached the exposed skin of his thigh as you grazed your nails over it. Pedro let out a muffled growl, "And you care?".

You shook your head as a laugh escaped your lips. The PR team was going to rip both of your heads off tomorrow; you were sure of it. But feeling him so close felt good. The smell of him. The way you could feel his breath on your skin. You moved to look up at Pedro, his body reacting to your movements as he lowered his gaze. Your eyes met, and for a heartbeat, you couldn't hear anything; it was just him and you. Pedro leaned in to place a kiss on your temple, and the crowd of paparazzi exploded. There wasn't a second when not even one camera wasn't going off. People were trying to surround you and get pictures of you two from all the different angles.

The screams pierced through your ears, making you take a light step back into Pedro. One of the photographs got way too close, and when the flash finally snapped, you quickly turned your head away from them, shifting towards Pedro's chest. He was quick to lift his palm to cover your eyes as an initial reaction before he stepped in front of you, shielding your body with his. You gave him a little smile as you blinked a couple of times, trying to get the stinging feeling to go away.

"You're okay?", he asked softly, his arms not letting go of your body as he looked around trying to find Blake. He nodded at him the moment he noticed the male approaching. "I'm fine, thank you", you knew that you needed to finish with the pictures and just go up, but being exposed to them all was the last thing on your wishlist. "Come on, let's get…", Pedro was ready to just walk you up, but you quickly took his hand into yours. "Smile", you mumbled quietly as you stepped from behind him, refueling the chaos once more, but this was just how these things worked, and you had to pull through even if you could tell that Pedro was silently fighting this decision you had chosen.

Your hands were trembling when you finally made it up. You had close to no recollection of what you talked about in the handful of interviews that you had. Just thankful to be in a little, private area away from all of the people now, even if you could still hear them all shouting. Not many people lingered here, and for that, you were thankful. Closing your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself a chance to breathe.

"You are too stubborn for your good", you slowly opened your eyes, catching a glimpse of Pedro standing in front of you with a glass of water in hand. "No bubbles?", you joked as you place the glass to your lips. "So your heart would explode and I'd be the main suspect? No, thank you", Pedro shook his head, urging you to drink some more. "Careful, Javier Pena just jumped out", you teased him, and Pedro nudged your shoulder playfully.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?", he asked you, carefully moving to push a strand of hair behind your ear. You wished your body wasn't as responsive as you felt yet another shiver slip past you. "I think you showed it, detective", you said, tilting your head to the side. Pedro read it as an invitation to press a kiss on your shoulders again. This time, however, he took his time, knowing that the corner he had chosen was far enough for you to stay out of sight. It was like he was painting a picture on your skin, the pattern snaking from shoulder to neck, right behind your ear. You desperately want to run your hands through his hair, but you know that if you messed with it, there would be no going back, so you gently place your hand on the back of his neck. Scraping your nails gently.

"We can't", you remind him, yet you don't pull away. Quite the opposite, bringing him even closer. "I haven't seen my girlfriend in two weeks", Pedro reminded you bluntly, hands now firmly holding onto your waist. "Tiny detail. They don't know you have a girlfriend". The lines had been blurry between the two of you from the start. There was a lot of respect there. Before more romantic scenes, you would always sit down and talk about each other's boundaries. Things one and the other were comfortable doing and not. The communication between the two of you was like no other. It was easy. It was comfortable. It made you feel safe. So when you fell into bed together after a particularly steamy shoot, it didn't surprise you all too much. But even that felt right, and after long conversations, you decided to give it a go. You both had some shit experiences with your past relationships, which made you both pretty weary of long-term commitment, but you were willing to give it a chance, and that was all that mattered.

That had been going on for six months now, and no one besides your managers knew. It was odd telling them even before you told your families, but you needed to have a damage control system ready to go off the moment something slipped up or too many speculations started to linger. And it wasn't that you were scared of people's reactions. Most of them wanted you married already, not to mention the need for you to have kids and finally make Pedro a real daddy. It was all sweet, but you two wanted to do this for yourselves. To enjoy the time together without anyone and their mother trying to dig through your lives and write endless amounts of articles about every move you too took together.

"We need to find Bella", you muttered, pushing lightly onto Pedro's chest. Knowing that you needed to stop him before he lost his cool and you would have to walk around with freshly formed hickeys. Pedro rested his forehead on your shoulder and said, "I asked Blake to look for her", "Well, that makes sense why he's not here, huh", Pedro let out a chuckle even if he shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear innocent.

You quickly smoothed down his coat, straightened his black tie, and pulled at the edges of his shorts. "Alright there, trying to get my pants off so quickly", he said, and you pinched his leg playfully, making him step away from you. "Watch it, Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal or we might just sleep in separate rooms tonight", you said, pointing a warning finger at him. But Pedro didn't seem to feel threatened, as he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling it closer to him so he could kiss the tip of your finger.

"We both know you won't take away my pleasure of taking that boobie tape off you", that was enough to send you into another fit of laughter. You had no clue why that thing mesmerized him so much, but there hasn't been a time since you started dating him that he hasn't participated in that procedure. "You, sir, are so weird", standing up, and fixing up your clothes, you tugged at the top of your dress to feel a bit more comfortable, "Sure, but you love me, so who are we fooling?", Pedro offered you his hand, which you gladly took, leaning closer into him. "Let's go find our kid before I go grey from all the worrying".

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #javier pena x reader

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tmzrkstan · 9 months

Text

nct dream and risky places they would make out with idol!reader

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

warnings: kissing, cursing, "risky" situations.

genre: stable relationship, a little smutty, gn!reader.

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

♡Mark:

•Studio it's way more comfortable in Mark's opinion, no more than his room, but for the moment was the best place;

•Whether you are from the same company or just visiting to record content with other idols makes no difference;

•You know recording studios very well, you'd be dragged into one and you'd make out for a few minutes;

•Never overdoing the timing, otherwise it would take it to another level, and he wouldn't want to risk that much.

•"I'd rather run away to be with you and get scolded than get caught"

♡Renjun:

•This man is not a big fan of feeling the danger of being caught, and fear of exposing you;

•BUT, when he can't hold back the urge to hold you in his arms there's nothing stopping him;

•Not even an audience of thousands of fans at his concerts will stop him from taking you out of the seats where you hide behind mask and cap;

•Makeout sessions before his entrance as an incentive, which drives his makeup artist crazy when he saw the mess you made;

•Smiling and being seductive the whole show remembering this, fans found themselves like this 🤨 the whole time;

•"When I'm on stage, remember this man is all yours."

♡Jeno:

•Big music awards demand a lot of production of course, an outfit that no one would normally wear, you knew about it for a long time;

•However, oh boy when your group's concept threw itself into the sexy, did he lose his mind at the sight of you;

•Luckily or not, their tables were always close enough for him to see your reactions to the spice messages he sent;

•It took a lot of persistence for him to manage to get you into an out-of-the-way bathroom stall during commercials;

•It wasn't a lot of time, but enough to calm the big boy in the suit's hormones;

•"It's not me you should complain to, it's your stylist."

♡Haechan:

•Poor stairs of the Music Bank recording building had to receive your groups on the same days one week or another;

•You bet twitter would be full of clips of you guys flirting while sharing the screen during interviews;

•Running away as soon as the camera stopped recording, feeling the animation run wild;

•The possibility of getting caught plus the attraction they felt for each other always made everything crazy;

•"Just the thought of being seen kissing a hottie like you makes it all worth it."

♡Jaemin:

•Festivals, especially those with water performances;

•There was no hair or makeup to mess up plus there was too much information going on to pay attention to the couple hiding in a bathroom or an enclosed corner;

•Plus, he's confident it's just a matter of throwing a towel over the two of them to hide in emergencies;

•No wonder it's the way he goes crazy with your dripping hair and smudged eyeliner, understand his side!

•At the end of the day, he just wanted to have fun since they couldn't have all that in public with normal couples;

•"You can't deny it gets a lot more refreshing."

♡Chenle:

•Ok, but he REALLY prefers privacy, just for the record;

•However, a man's heart is not frozen, how could he deny caresses to his attention-needing partner?

•Demands a lot of demand, but ends up choosing a conference room at the end of a corridor on the top floor;

•Deep down he likes to have meetings about his future activities in the same place where you two made out for hours (oh he makes the executive type of man);

•It's little secrets he keeps to himself with a small sly smile;

•"Likes to see me in the boss chair, huh?"

♡Jisung:

•He is not as expositional as Jaemin and Haechan, but he has his moments of adventure on stage;

•Literally on stage, as early arrivals for sound checks were excuses to meet with each other;

•It was inevitable that they would exchange a few kisses here and there on the stage where in a few hours one of the two would perform;

•On his turn, he was always lost between kissing you or showing the part of the choreography that he had some concern about;

•"I think I'm a lot more confident now."

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

#kpop #imagine #kpop imagines #haechan #nct #mark lee #chenle #jaemin #gn!reader #kpop reactions #lee jeno #renjun #park jisung #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #kpop smut reaction #nct reactions #idol!au #idol!reader

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twopoppies · 3 months

Note

https://www.standard.co.uk/comment/harry-styles-is-a-gay-icon-queerbaiting-b1136121.html

Hi Gina, Have you seen this article?

No. But thank you. I really love what the author had to say! Usually I highlight a few key comments, but I found myself highlighting almost the entire article.

[…]

And that is all well and good, however there does come a time Harry Styles deserves some respect. We know he wasn’t the first man to ever wear a dress. Still, his appearance on the cover of American Vogue in December 2020 felt like a moment. Yes ok, he has pinched a few styling tips and lyrical flourishes from the great male frontmen of our times (David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, Mick Jagger, George Michael, et al). But like Bowie caused a scandal by wearing a Mr Fish dress on his album cover in 1971, Styles does too every time he flaunts another disco coloured, nipple-grazing jumpsuit. At least someone is still trying to push the boundaries.

More than that, though, Styles’ persistent drip feeding of all things “flamboyant” — on the fashion front, credit must go to his longtime stylist Harry Lambert — is exactly the antidote a world in a toxic masculinity choke-hold needs. His own range of unisex nail varnishes? Great. Pictures of him stomping about in little heeled booties and a pearl necklace? It really is delightful to see.

His relationships with queer creatives are a convincing testament to him as a person, too. He launched gender fluid designer Harris Reed’s career when he wore a selection of his blouses on tour in 2018. He did too for S.S.Daley, another queer-centric label, which the singer gave a leg-up to stardom by spotlighting it in his 2020 Golden music video. Taking his support a step further, this month it was announced Styles bought a minority share in the brand.

And on set, the stories that come back are similar. Pat Boguslawski, the movement director best known for his current role at Martin Margiela under John Galliano, worked with Styles on his viral 2020 Beauty Papers cover shoot. Yes, the one where he is naked save for fishnets and loafers.

“He was just incredible,” Boguslawski told me in a recent interview. “It was fascinating to work with someone who is a male but at the same time so open minded and willing to do anything.” First hand testimonies are a good place to start when it comes to reading mega-stars who have their image so tightly controlled (often it’s near impossible to get any sense of true character).

While Styles has not spelled out his queerness in black and white, every plumed, pink ostrich feather coat he normalises makes it a little bit easier for those wanting to express themselves in peace and safety.

It shouldn’t be like that. In fact, it’s sickening. But that’s not Styles’ fault — and by putting it to the forefront of pop culture, he is doing the LGBTQ+ community a solid. To my mind, that is something worth applauding, not tearing down.

Full article here

#Everyone loves Harry #beauty papers magazine #vogue Harry #ss daley #Harris Reed #Harry’s queer connections #the standard #Harry’s sexuality #queerbaiting

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talkdutchtome · 9 months

Text

You Should Have Said No Chapter Five- Shake It Off

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / pierre gasly x reader )

summary . . . when your fiancé cheats on you, you strike up an unusual friendship with one of his closest friends, who just so happens to have had a crush on you since he set eyes on you. chaos ensues.

inspired by the works of miss taylor swift )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . shake it off- taylor swift)

warning . . . cheating, mental illness, angst, eventual smut, poorly translated french and dutch, swearing, mention of parent loss, emotionally abusive parent, slight social media au, kendall jenner as fc (potentially more i’ll add as i go along)

series masterlist . . . available here )

“Literally everyone does it Y/N, it’s a rite of passage after a breakup” Lila stresses at you, waving a pair of scissors in front of your face. She wants to cut your hair, claiming that it would help you forget about Pierre. Truth be told, you’re not even sure that you want to forget about Pierre, though you’d die before admitting that to Lila, who may kill you herself if you dared let those words pass through your lips. Whilst Lila worked on the West End theater scene in London now, she had spent years working on much smaller theater scenes so she had learned to cut hair so that her and her colleagues didn’t have to spend a good chunk of their small paycheck on their hair; so you knew that she definitely could cut your hair you just weren’t sure you wanted it cut. Pierre had once told you when you were 18 that he liked your hair long so naturally, you kept your hair that long ever since. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Pierre wouldn’t have had an issue if you did cut your hair, realistically he may not even remember that he told you he liked your hair long, but you remembered so you always kept your chocolate brown hair at the length it was when he said it. “Okay fine, just do it” you relented, sitting in front of her to allow her to begin to work on your hair.

After she had finished, she put a mirror in front of your face, enabling you to see your now shoulder length hair and as much as admitting she was right was painful for you; you had to admit not only did you look good but you also felt a freeing sense, like you were finally accepting that life was going to be different now, and maybe that’s okay. “It’s lovely, thank you Lila”

“Right okay time for outfits, I’m not sure what you’re wearing to the race yet but I know exactly want I want you to wear for the after party; you need to go full Princess Diana” The words that came out of her mouth made you laugh but you quickly realized that she was completely serious. “Okay what the hell do you mean by ‘full Princess Diana’, also you do know you’re not my personal stylist righy?”

“Oh, come on you know! The revenge dress!”

“My god you’ve lived in London for too long” You laughed at her but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, there was every chance Pierre could come to this party and you were only human after all, you couldn’t help wanting to realize what he’s missing out on. Whilst you were weighing up your options regarding your evening wear, Lila had moved onto looking through her suitcase trying to find something for you to wear. “Now this is perfect!” hearing your best friend’s words made you look up to the outfit she was referring to. In her hands she held up a pair of light wash ripped boyfriend jeans and a black top that was really more of a bra than a top. Opening up your mouth to tell her no, you caugh sight of her face looking at you with pleading eyes and pouted lips. “Okay fine, give it here”

“Ohhh and this too?” she throws Max’s jacket at you, resulting in her receiving a death stare from you “Nope. Too far Lils” you told her trying to be serious but failing once she fell into fits of giggles, causing you to laugh like a mad man too.

“Uhh Y/N, have you been on Instagram lately?” Lila questioned with a worried tone in her voice, before you could answer her question, she had turned around her phone and showed you the post that she clearly thought you needed to see. Your eyes focused on the image in front of you and you quickly snatched the phone out of her hand to have a look. The fact that there were paparazzi as you got off Max’s private jet a few days ago had completely slipped your mind after a very stressful few days. “Oh fuck” you cursed at yourself, you didn’t even think how it looked for a driver's fiancée to be flying on a plane alone with a bunch of other drivers, but clearly the fans following the infamous F1 gossip page did. Reading through the comments, you saw countless people calling you a slut, alleging that you were sleeping with one of the drivers that you were pictured with, people worried and upset for Pierre; pretty much any derogatory word under the sun was used to describe your behavior. Just for a second you felt a flash of guilt, knowing that Pierre is defiantly going to see the post, but it quickly dawned on you that you shouldn’t have to feel guilty for having friends or for spending time with people who were looking after you after finding out that your finance had cheated on you. After the guilt subsided, anger took its place. How dare they criticize you for having friends, for daring to even be in the presence of men whilst Pierre could literally fuck another woman and there wasn’t a post about that, there wasn’t cameras in the club when Pierre actually did what people are accusing you of.

“You just need to ignore it Y/N, it’s not fair of course it isn’t but it’s also not important, just follow the advice of Taylor Swift and Shake it off” Lila spoke, knowing what was going through your head.

“Oh I was actually meant to say, have you spoken to Charles since everything happened?” she asked you, trying to change the topic of conversation as she could tell the gossip post.

“No actually, he messaged me literally the day after it happened as Pierre went to his house when I kicked him out but since then I haven’t heard anything since. Though he did phone you so I guess.” you told her and she scoffed, clearly not happy with that answer. “That’s really shitty of him, he’s been your friend for almost 15 years and all he can manage is one text. Though it doesn’t surprise me, he always was a dick.” her words made you laugh but you couldn’t help but agree with what she said, you had known Charles for almost as long as he knew Pierre and you were always close so you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you that he hadn’t reached out since that first day. “Oh come on be fair Lila, he was a bit of a dick when we were 15 but he’s changed since then, he’s a good guy” you told her but she just scoffed again, clearly not ready to accept that he wasn’t the same Charles that broke her heart 12 years age.

Much to Lila’s dismay, upon your arrival at the track ready for the race, you were called into a meeting, leaving her alone for an hour, desperately searching for some entertainment, she ended up stumbling into Pierre. Whilst she tried to avoid his gaze and get away without speaking to him, she had no such luck. “Ugh what do you want?” she had asked him clearly pissed off that he wouldn’t let her slip away without having to acknowledge his presence. “Please just listen, I really need your advice” Pierre told the girl in front of him who rolled her eyes but gestured for him to continue. “I just don’t know what to do, I love Y/N so much and I know I fucked up, I really fucked up but I don’t want to live without her and every time I try to speak to her, I just seem to make it worse” his words caused Lila to laugh, earning her a death glare. “Look if she’s got any sense, she’ll never take you back, but I’ll tell you this; if she’ll ever be ready to take you back, she needs to heal first. Every time she sees you her heart breaks more and soon enough it’ll be broken beyond the point of no return. So, if you love her or ever did, you need to leave her alone, at least for a while” Lila told him, causing him to stand deeply in thought for a minute before speaking up again. “But what if I leave her alone to heal and she ends up falling for Max?” he asked her, with tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. “I’m going to be brutally honest with you Pierre, would that really be such a bad thing? You and I both know what a hard life she’s had, doesn’t she deserve love from someone who will never hurt her? Who will never make her look in the mirror and wonder what is wrong with her that the person who is supposed to love her went and slept with another woman.” Lila told him before turning around and walking away before he had a chance to respond.

Eventually the race started, and you were sat in Red Bull garage hospitality with Lila, things were going well for the first 15 laps until there was a crash that made your heart sink. Pierre had collided with Geroge Russell sending them both spinning. Before you even had the chance to think about the consequences, you were on your feet and running to the Alpine garage. In that moment nothing else mattered other than finding out if Pierre was safe, everything else was forgotten. In the time it took you to reach the garage, Pierre had come back and other than sporting a bit of a limp, he seemed fine; that was until he saw you and it looked like he was going to cry. Both of you were acutely aware of the fact that were countless engineers surrounding you who had no idea what was going on between the two of you; they were used to you being sat in the garage all weekend but this time you were nowhere to be found until right now when you ran in frantically. It was quite the picture, you both standing opposite each other, him trying not to cry and you trying to catch your breath, partly from the running but also from the creeping anxiety that sat in your stomach.

Eventually realizing that you weren’t going to say anything whilst surrounded by everyone, Pierre told the medic charged with checking him out that he was going into his driver's room to get his withings before they took him away to the medical center to be checked. As he walked, he gestured for you to follow him, so you did. “Are you okay? That looked really bad. I was so worried oh my god are you okay?” You rambled at him, not even giving him a chance to answer your questions. You were spiraling and he knew it, even though you could now see that he was okay, the initial fear you felt was the straw that broke the camel's back and every emotion that you had shoved down for the past week was making itself known. Pierre could see that you were shaking and crying, so on instinct he wrapped his arms around you, so tightly that it hurt because he knew you and he knew that’s what you needed when you got like this. “Shh baby it’s okay I’m okay. I know it was scary but I’m okay” He soothed you and stood with you in his arms until your breathing calmed down and you pulled away from him. “I’m sorry for coming here Pierre, I just needed to know that you were okay” you told him before turning to walk away from him, once the anxiety had subsided you realized that coming here wasn’t the best thing to do, that letting him comfort you wasn’t really fair on either of you. Just as you reached the door handle you heard Pierre’s voice ask you the one question you really didn’t want him to ask- “Why did you come here?” You turned around to look at him, but you didn’t answer his question, how could you when you didn’t even know the answer yourself. “What is going on with you and Max?” He questions you again, upon realizing you weren't going to answer his first question. It’s the same thing he asked you days ago, but the way he asks is different now; there’s no venom in his voice, no taunting look in his eyes, there’s just sadness and a look of hopelessness. “He’s my friend. He’s really looked after me over this last week and I do really like him, but it’s not like that Pierre okay. He’s just a friend” you told him hesitantly, you’re aware that maybe it was best not to humor his question, but the anxiety attack you just had exhausted you and you truly did not have the energy to argue with him as to why it’s none of his business “He likes you Y/N, he always has” he told you. There were no words you could think of to say in response to him, so you just walked away.

After your interaction with Pierre, you went back to the garage with Lila where you both watched Max win the race by 30 seconds. Immediately following the race Lila had to leave to catch her plane back to London, you both cried as she left, vowing to not leave it so long until the next time you see each other again. Despite all of this and how much you loved her, you cursed her name when you arrived back in your hotel room and saw the dress, she left for you to wear. It was a tan mini dress that clung to your body tightly and stopped way higher up your thighs than you ideally would have liked; to put it bluntly it was almost the exact opposite of something you would chose to wear but as it was the only option available, you had to accept that you would be out of your comfort zone and get ready for the party. Just as you were getting ready to head to the club you remembered the last words that Lila had said to you just before she left “Make sure you post on Instagram how hot you look just in case Pierre isn’t at the party, a revenge dress isn’t a revenge dress if the person doesn’t see it” you laughed at her words but did what she said anyway, knowing that she wouldn’t leave you alone until you relented anyway.

The second you walked in the club, you caught sight of table that Max and everyone were sat at. Even though it was a Red Bull party Max did mention that others would be coming so you weren’t surprised to see Lando and Daniel sat alongside him. As soon as Max spotted you, he was up on his feet, making the short journey from his table to the bar where you stood.

“Hey Max congratulations, such a good race.” You told him, smiling sincerely at him. “Y/N I’m so good you’re here! I was worried you weren’t going to come. What are you drinking?” The Dutchman asked you, smiling ear to ear, clearly on a high from his win. Usually, you didn’t drink much in clubs, often finding that it ends up making your anxieties worse, but you couldn’t help but feel that this was a night where you deserved to let go a little bit and actually get drunk for once. “Ohh maybe tequila?” you suggested earning yourself a cheeky grin from the man in front of you, who leant forward and ordered four shots of tequila from the bartender before calling Lando and Daniel over to give them their shots. As you stood at the bar with the three men taking your shots, you couldn’t help but think about the gossip post from earlier; you realized that as you were in a public club, anyone could easily take a photo of the four of you and use it to fuel more rumors. Part of you wanted to walk away from them, to not give people anymore ammunition to use against you, but the other part of you didn’t care what anyone else was going to do or say and just wanted to have a good time with your newly found friends. Deciding to listen to the part of you who just said ‘Fuck it let me have fun’ you ordered more shots and let yourself just enjoy the company you were in.

After an hour or so passed, you could feel how tipsy you started to become and decided that you had probably drunk enough; that was until you saw Charles and Pierre walk into the club and immediately decided to buy and drink a lot more alcohol. You sat at the Red Bull table with Max and his friends for a while more until you saw that Pierre had left Charles sat by himself for a moment and with your decision-making skills inebriated, you decided to go and confront him.

“Oh hey Y/N” Charles spoke as you walked towards him. “Don’t ‘hey y/n’ me Charles you’re such a dick” you told him perhaps a bit more aggressively than you had meant, slurring your speech whilst you were at it too. He just gave you a confused look. “I can’t believe I’ve barely heard from you Charles. I know you’re Pierres friend I get that, but you’re my friend too. I’ve known you for almost 15 years and all I get from you when my life literally falls apart is one text? I get you called Lila and I appreciate it, God knows I needed her here. But I also needed you. I’m not asking you to pick my side or drop Pierre, but it would have been nice to feel like you didn’t drop me.” You ranted at him, and he just looked at his feet, clearly ashamed at his behavior. “I know, I’m really sorry. I did want to reach out, but I just didn’t know how” he spoke, and you could tell that he did genuinely feel bad. You were going to say something else to him in response, but you suddenly saw Pierre approaching and decided that being around him in this state definitely was not the best idea. “I should go” you told Charles before turning to walk away. “I am really sorry Y/N, phone me when you get home to Monaco and we’ll arrange to do something” Charles called out after you just as Pierre rejoined him, earning him a funny look from his friend.

The need to drink came back after that conversation with Charles so you grabbed another couple of shots for you and Max before walking back to the table, and after taking them all you wanted to do was dance. With Lila being gone, the next best person to dance with was Max so you grabbed his hands and dragged him onto the dance floor. This was completely out of character for you, with you usually being the quiet person sat in the corner at a club but despite that and despite the fact that you knew that Pierre was burning a hole in your back watching the two of you, you completely let yourself go and danced with Max. The dancing started fun, with the two of you jumping around to Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off (the irony was not missed on you even in your very drunk state), however after a while the copious amounts of alcohol you had drank started to catch up on you and Max eventually declared that you probably needed to head home and that he would acompany you to make sure that you got in safely.

The journey in the uber was proabably around 30 minutes, although it didn’t at all feel like that. You spent the whole journey talking to Max about pretty much everything that came into your head, you told him about how you and Lila met Charles and Pierre and how the four of you became best friends, you told him about your love for Taylor Swift and your desperation for Eras Tour tickets, you even told him about the time you met Christan Horner’s wife Geri for the first time and completely embarrassed yourself by gushing over her and telling her how obsessed you were with the Spice Girls when you grew up. And the whole time he sat there and listened to you, he didn’t just listen to the important stuff you had to say like you often felt Pierre did, but he sat there and listened just the same when you were rambling on about something silly and insignificant. He was completely attentive, and it made you feel like you could tell him absolutely anything. He then walked you all the way up to your hotel door just so he knew that you were home and safe. “You looked so beautiful tonight Y/N” he told you but it looked like he regretted in straight away when you just looked at him unsure what to say back to him. “Goodnight, thank you for a good night” He spoke again before turning to leave. “Wait Max” you called after him and he turned around to ask you what it is you wanted but stopped when he felt your hands come up to the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Your lips touched only for a second and your touch was so faint that Max could have thought that he had maybe imagined it if not for the riot of butterflies took flight in the depths of his stomach, their wings fluttering in harmony with the newfound spark that had ignited between the two of them. Before Max had a chance to say anything you closed the door on him before walking to the bed and flopping onto it. In spite of the amount that you had drank, you had never felt more sober than you did right now, in the aftermath of your first kiss with Max. You wanted to cry, you wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream, you wanted to run after Max and kiss him again but in the end all you do is just lay on your bed and attempt to follow the piece of advice that Lila had given you earlier in the day, you just shook it off and went to sleep.

Taglist-

@hiraethrhapsody @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @aundercover @dearlovelys @bicchaan @eugene-emt-roe @faithm120601 @ruleroftheuniverse @idkiwantchocolatee @simxican @reidsworld @icarus-nex @barnestatic @amalialeclerc @stargaryenx @pjofics @girlintheredscarf @janeholt3 @lu-morningstar-2 @mycenterfold @be-your-coffee-pot @omarsiglia @lordperceval-16

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #max verstappen #lando norris #formula 1 #max verstappen smut #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #max verstappen x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x oc #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen x y/n #f1 fanfic #fanfic

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thesmallonesblog · 3 months

Text

Soft moments with Minghao

Letting you into his space - we all know Minghao gives off a slight black cat energy and is someone who values his own space and time. But when it comes to you, you're the one person he would allow into his quiet more personal moments. He would welcome you with open arms into his meditation space enjoying walking you through the process in order for you to find an inner peace and relase some of the stress you're carrying in your everday life. Something about sharing this time with you, no words just energies combining together would be so personal and intimate to him and he would feel so much closer to you through these shared moments. It would make him smile and his heart vibrate with happiness in his chest when you would ask to join him in these moments and would be even more elated to see you much more calm and at peace at the end of them. He would also enjoy shared time sat reading together. He would often suggest and pick up books that he thought you would both enjoy so that you could read them together and be able to talk about them with one another. Sharing thoughts and predictions on what was going to happen next. He would love it on the days that you would curl up beside him, you head on his lap. He would run a hand through your hair as he would read out loud to you until you dozed off in peaceful comfort.

Your built in therpaist - this man, the definition of an active listener. He is always there for you when you need to talk. When life gets too hard and he notices you struggling he would sit you down and encourage you to share the burden with him so that you could figure it out together. With him, you would never be alone in this world. To him, your problems, your struggles and your worries were his as well. He would do anything and everything to help provide you with advice, different prespectives and ideas on how to handle things going forward. Just sitting down and telling him what was going on and seeing his face calm and collected would instantly take so much weight off your shoulders. He always would know just what to say to bring you down from your worries and make then seem so much more manageable and not as scary as you would make them out to be in your head. On the flip side he is not only there in the tough times to listen. He loves listening to you ramble on about your day, what you did what you saw. He would love the way your face would light up when you would talk about you faveourite things in life. When he was feelling down he would ask you about your faveourite hobbies just to see you face light up and get lost in how excited you are about it all. It would instantly make him forget the rest of the world.

Personal Stylist - we all know how fashionable this man is. He takes pride in his fashion sense and would love to share that with you. You wouldnt ever have to worry about going shopping, what to wear and what to accessorize with because he has your back. He would love to take you shopping, pilling clothes in the dressing room for you to try on. He would know exactly what would fit you best, always making sure to pick things that he knew you would be comfortable in. He would be your biggest hype man too while trying things on. Talking up how good you looked in all the outfits he picked out for you, taking pictures of everything for his own collection. Going out? Have an event? He's got you. He would love coming over to roam through your closet to help you compile an outfit that would wow everyone else in the room. Minghao would also love buying things that you both could wear or buying somehwat matching outfits that would compliment one another as well. Lets be real, he would also love dressing you up to have full on photo shoots so that he could combine his two favourite things, fashion and you into one thing.

Window into his silly side - despite his usual more quiet and reserved nature with you Minghao is more likely to let his hair donw and let his more relaxed silly side down. We've all seen him twerk on tipsy live. This MInghao would be out a lot when the two of you were alone together. He loved seeing your smile and hearing your laugh and with you he felt no judgemnt so he would let his guard down and express his silly nature more to allow all of this to happen. You would have our own inside jokes with one another, your own looks that would express them so that when you were out with others you could just look at one another and know and giggle silently to yourselves together. I can just see him being much more carefree and open, relaxed.

Always shows up for - you are his pride and joy and he wants you to know that every second of everyday. He also wants the whole world to know that and to know that you are his. He would go out of his way to show up for you in every way he could in life. If it was to be there for a phone call when he was away so that you could vent about a tough day he was there answering the call. If it was an special life event like winning an award of graduating you know he would be as close to the stage as possible cherring you on. If you just needed one of those hugs that seemed to put all your broken pieces back together, his arms were open and waiting. I just feel that with him you would never feel alone, always feel apprecited and always feel safe and secure because you knew he was only one step behind you if you ever stumbled and feel. Man. I have such a sweet spot for hi, but I just feel like he would always be there and you would never doubt him for a second in amything

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt #svt fluff #svt imagines #svtcreations #svt fanfic #the 8 #minghao

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

Through the Eras

Natasha Romanoff x Fem(Stylist)!Reader

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

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

All Canon besides EG.

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

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

2002

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

2011

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The agency's hairdresser?"

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

"Well?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do I question your fighting process?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good luck."

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

—

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

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

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

"You ever boxed before?"

"I have, yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Atta girl."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

Your voice expectedly cracked, "What?"

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

"I thought you were meant to entice him."

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

"Did you get your dinner?"

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

"Sends the wrong message."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

"Who's sick?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not staying in the car."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hill."

Natasha nodded, "Makes sense then."

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

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

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

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

"Would you be interested in getting dinner?"

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

2012

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

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

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

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

"Why would you be nervous?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha smirked, "Much better, yes please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which you were...

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

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

"Agent Romanoff, always such a pleasure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha smirked against you, "I always do."

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fair enough."

—

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

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

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

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

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

"Lovely to see you again Zoe."

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(I'm going to keep you forever.)

"What was that?"

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

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

2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Natasha, what is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2016

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

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

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

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

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

You knew...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

You always answered your phone.

No matter what.

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

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

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

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

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

2023

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

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

“If I move on, who does this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

—

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you feeling my love?”

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can Norway become Ohio?”

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

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

“Yelena?!”

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

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

——

13,049 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥰

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

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emmyrosee · 1 year

Note

GUESS WHO’S BACK!!! WITH ANOTHER RANT!!! your resident haikyuu simp, that’s who. (a simp who is currently listening to her friend argue w her bf send help this is so awkward)

Today I offer: sunarin teasing a (slightly) jealous reader.

Okay so let’s just say that your relationship was more on the private side- no one outside of friends, his teammates and family knew he was dating anyone. But you’ve been together for so long?? Like years. And his fans for some reason seem to think he’s been dating some other public figure (up to your imagination) bc they’ve been at the same events a couple times now and somehow keep ending up in pics together. These two have like, never spoken aside from awkward small talk to be polite. Very un-relationship like. So anyway. You’re starting to not like the fact that every single time you open social media you’re flooded with fan pages shipping them, and Suna picks up on this and just??? Posts you one day??? Randomly??? And it’s both the sweetest and most annoying thing ever bc aww cute caption and stuff but “really, rin, did you NEED to add the picture of us from two years ago when my hair looked like that?” (He might have also posted a suggestive pic of you two or a video of you kissing or something at the end and you just haven’t scrolled that far yet so he basks in the peace and hides away before he can hear your shriek when you realize hehe)

Either way it’s sweet and things calm down after that, but he teases you RELENTLESSLY about the fact you were jealous and makes it known that you’re the only one for him ever. and that he would never even make you jealous on purpose or anything, he just likes the feeling of belonging to you as much as you belong to him <3

I’m just soft for rin, my next couple rants might be suna-centric :3

anon <3

WOULD LIGHT MYSELF ON FIRE FOR ONE (1) SUNA RINTARO, HE IS THE LOML AND I WILL ABSOLUTELY DEVPUR ALL THE RINTARO RANTS-

Ahem.

He’s a shit. I love him so much.

Because like, yeah, okay, paparazzi are the worst, and while he’s still able to live his life like a standard person, he knows what people do to celebrities who are in relationships, and he doesn’t want to put you through that. Your friends respected that, his teammates completely close lipped -atsumu actually has it in his interview agreements he’s never to talk about any relationships, and honestly, it’s been a life saver for so many of his teammates- but nothings perfect.

Sometimes, like an idiot, Rin leaves the house with hickeys on full display. Just. Out and about. The media loves that, and usually, Rintaro doesn’t even care, whatever makes them happy.

But then it happens.

He gets out of a limo at a sponsor event, with a ‘mysterious woman,’ dress shirt wrinkled and tux closed haphazardly.

And of course, a hickey just above the pristine white collar.

This. Blows. Up.

Because of course it does, and of course people now assume this woman is the one who leaves marks on your boyfriends body, and how cool he is for dating someone uNdErGrOuNd and whatever the bloody hell they try to spew.

And it hurts, okay, because this woman- Atsumu’s stylist, literally because the man child can’t go one damned day without spilling something on himself, and that’s actually why she was helping Rin, dumbass spilt champagne all over his-damn-self- is very obviously not his partner, you are, and it’s just. It sucks watching them get fan edits and theories on how long they’re been together when you know the truth.

It turns you pretty sour towards him, almost resentful, and he tries to remind you that it’s just a rumor and you’re the only soul he’d ever want to be with, but it gets hard to believe when you open your Instagram and it’s about how stunning “Rin’s girlfriend” is.

And you, obviously, are not that person. You’re you.

Instead of sitting together, you’re sitting on one end of the couch, far from him; he tries to snuggle, and you get up and leave the room. Instead of holding his hand in the car, his hand tries desperately to paw for yours or even your thigh, just to hold onto you, but you turn towards the window. Instead of going with him places when he goes to see his buddies, you croak out an extremely sad “how about you go with the pretty lady who gives you hickeys?”

He feels bad for you, obviously. But in his own mind, he’s at his breaking point. He needs your attention and affection, he thrives and breathes and lives because of it, and now he’s losing his mind that he hasn’t had it for weeks.

So, against telling you, and hoping to smother any other rumors about himself and Atsumu’s stylist, he makes his post.

None of them have your whole face, maybe an eye or a smile or wearing a mask (he put some thought into this okay-) but it’s very obviously not the stylist. He posts a picture of a shadow in which your hands are holding, the next one is a picture you took, where your hand was shaped in half a heart and on the other end, he held up the other half to match, and finally, a video; one where he’s laying on top of you with his eyes closed, your hand in his hair and scratching his scalp while he sleepily mumbles how much he loves you (the last video is actually one he took of you suckling and marking up his neck, his raspy breath on the other end; extremely not safe for the internet, and naturally, when you saw that, you shit your pants and chased him with a shoe, but that’s not the point.)

It’s something he clearly wanted to fix, but also wanted to keep you as safe as possible. And you certainly appreciate it, and when you see what he did and how the comments are now hyping you up, you shuffle your way to find him. He’s on the couch, carding his own hair, and smiling up at you as you approach him.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and he shifts one of the legs sprawled out on the couch to rest on the floor so you can lay between them, which you do. “I hated being so far from you but… but I couldn’t-“

“I get it,” he assures, nosing softly at you. “It wasn’t fair to you. I know how much you hated it.”

“She was very pretty, though,” you confess, and he lowers his eyes to peek at you through his lashes.

“You think so?” He asks, shrugging as you nod. “Wasn’t really my type.”

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kairoot · 3 months

Text

EICS. 💌 (03.) king bee (the parties and boobies in question)

WARNINGS ▸ 2.7K words, profanity, suggestive jokes, alcohol mentioned, marijauna/vaping mentioned, let me know if i missed anything (i do not condone any of these things and this is not made to represent any of the idols’ personality or behavior. it is simply for fictional purposes.) ignore timestamps!

SYNOPSIS ▸ you and jake broke up about a year ago and he made it his mission to forget everything about you. you’ve always wanted to send him a text or even a voicemail about how much you missed him but you always held back. that was until you two met again.

— ˖˚ ͙ ❤︎︎

Y/N.

“There’s nothing here.” Y/n said, raking through the dozens of hangers dangling from the shelf. She sighed in frustration before turning around to look at her friends. “Literally nothing.”

Yunjin clicked her tongue, not believing her claim. “Please, there has to be something. You're just not looking hard enough.” She says, something immediately catching her eye as she went to grab at it.

“See, look this is so…you!” She held the shimmery pink halter top against Y/n’s chest, folding her lips as she tried not to laugh at the tacky little red hearts patterned across it.

Y/n gave the girl a blank stare before rolling her eyes. “Be serious. I’m looking for something less clown-like, and more.. scandalous.” She says boldly, laughing to herself as she plucked the top from Yunjin’s hand and placed it back on the rack.

“Uh oh? Who’re you and what’d you do with our Y/n?” Jurin teased, raising her trimmed brow and popping a mini bubble from the flavorless gum she’d been chewing on since they arrived at the mall.

“Showin’ out for your man? Hmm?”

Y/n’s hand paused for a moment. Resting on another crop top she’d pulled slightly out of its place to look at. She was trying to tune out her friends' antics but of course Jurin always had to take it there.

She scoffed, “No, actually- I’m doing it to flaunt my single…ness.” She hesitated, mentally debating on if that was a word or not. Her friends could see right through her confident facade. They shook their heads as they recalled the countless times said girl had boo-hooed to them about her ex.

“Uh huh, see now I need you to be serious.” Yunjin spoke up, pointing her polished finger at Y/n.

“Right, you deadass whine and bawl over Jake every second you breathe.” Jurin agreed pointedly while skimming through other items lined neatly across one of the store’s walls. Y/n immediately protested.

“I do not- I’m not crying over him right now.. am I?!” Her voice got higher towards the end of her sentence as her eyes suddenly glazed over with tears.

“Yeah, technical-”

“Shut up Yunjin.” Y/n interrupted her, a single tear escaping from the corner of her eye.

Jurin stopped her browsing to direct her full attention to the girls beside her. She sighed, putting her hand on her hip with a half concerned expression.

“You know what, just forget it- I don't even wanna go anymore.” Y/n said, sniffling and looking towards the ceiling and wiping under her eyes as she tried to stop any more tears from falling.

Yunjin’s head whipped in her direction, she furrowed her eyebrows before stomping up to y/n, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Alright look, I did not pump twenty bucks worth of gas in my tank to take us here, home, and to that damn party just for you to bail on us last minute.” She grabbed Y/n by both of her hands urging her to look at them.

“You’re going to that party,” She said, holding eye contact. “And you’re gonna go and enjoy yourself. because you deserve it. You hearing me?”

Y/n nodded at Yunjin's words, sniffling before responding. “I hear you.”

She was trying to convince herself that she was doing it for her and not for anyone else, not because she wanted to see Jake- and definitely not to show him what he was missing.

“Now that that's settled,” Yunjin smirked, pushing y/n toward the dressing room. “Get in there, I'm gonna be your personal stylist today.”

Y/n locked the stall door behind her, taking a seat on the mini bench in the corner. She began to think of all the many ways she could walk into that party and look as if she were her most confident self, as if she were healed and had 99 problems and Jake wasn't one. (He was all 99 of them..)

“You wanted something sexy- excuse me, “scandalous” right? Yunjin said with a cheeky grin. “Why don't we use Sabrina for inspo?” Yunjin called from outside the door, the sound of hangers scraping against metal intrigued Y/n as she heard her friend looking through possible options.

She giggled before responding to her friend outside the door in agreement.

JAKE.

Jake slouches his body lazily on the red sofa he’d made himself comfortable on. The hat he’s wearing sits at a downward angle covering the upper half of his face. The boy groaned in irritation, blowing a nasally sigh into the cap perched on his nose.

“You’ll be alright, s’ not that serious.” Heeseung reassures him, patting his shoulder and taking a seat in one of the chairs across from Jake.

“Not that serious..? I feel like I’m gonna be alone for the rest of my damn life.” He scoffed, snatching the cap off of his face.

“Really wish you would stop whining and bitching and let loose for the first time in decades.” Heeseung whistled.

He’d gotten the last word as the rest of their friend group made their way into the room. The sounds of the bags they held and their outside voices filled the space, throwing Jake off enough to hold on a response.

Heeseung stood up and greeted the rest of them with handshakes and dap ups, while Jake continued to look at him crazy.

“Relax, you won’t be all by yourself tonight. S’long as you stick to the objective of gettin’ you some honey for your hive king bee.” Heeseung told him while plopping down beside him this time.

Jake knew exactly what he meant by that. He rolled his eyes and turned his head to blankly stare at where the ceiling met the wall. “There’s no such thing as a king bee, dumbass.” He mumbled.

“Then you’ll be the first.”

Jake’s lip twitched in amusement. “Whatever you say bro..” And he left it at that, directing his attention to other matters and hoping for the best.

“You act like you were dating to marry Jake, not every relationship is for the long run and that's fine.” Niki made a point, chuckling a little as if what he said was just plain common sense.

Heeseung nodded his head once at his friend's point.

“Exactly, see Niki gets it and he's younger than you. Oh and while we're on it- why exactly did you and Y/n break things off?” He asked, his curiosity leading him to putting Jake on the spot.

Sunghoon added on. “Yeah and- who broke up with who?” Great, now they were trying to revisit the situation as a whole.

Jake sighs, a subtle pained look making its way onto his face before he speaks. “I’d rather not get into my world shattering break up. That's reasonable right?”

Heeseung hums. “For now, sure, but that’s why we decided to host this party yeah?” He smiled, throwing his arm around Jake’s shoulders as he continued.

”Tonight is about you, Jake, getting fucked up and letting your brain free from the shackles of everlasting heart break. If you know what I meannn.” He teased, poking Jake's side with his free hand while flaunting his charming smile.

“Oh yeah- n’ I forgot to mention this, but Harvey is supposed to be coming to this party.” Sunghoon said, drawing his attention from down at his phone to the men around him.

“What?!” Jake snaps his head towards Sunghoon, his face immediately scrunching up.

Sunghoon met Jake’s gaze with a knowing smirk. “I mean Heesung had already invited her, and we know that where there’s Harvey, there's also Y/n. And the rest of them I guess.” He said with a shrug, spreading his legs slightly as he made himself comfortable in the love seat he sat in.

Jake cleared his throat at the information. Trying his absolute best to relax and not let his mind be overwhelmed by the thought of seeing Y/n again for the first time in months.

Not like he particularly cared or anything- (He in fact, did care. Like a lot. Maybe too much.) but if anyone put themselves in his shoes would they also not be a little on edge about seeing their ex that they had yet to detach themselves from even after a year of not being together?

“No, probably not, because they probably would've healed and gotten over them by now like a normal person.” Jake’s inner monologue nagged, leading Jake to let out a half frustrated sigh.

“Look he’s about to combust.” One of his friends commented with a chuckle. That brought Jake out of the momentary mind war he was having with a roll of his eyes.

“Fuck you.” Jake said, standing up and heading towards the bathroom to clear his head. This was gonna be a long night.

Y/N.

A few hours later Y/n and the girls found themselves finally making their way into the party. Upon walking in they were immediately hit by the scent of marijuana, pink lemonade flavored vape pens, and liquor.

Bodies were grinding and bumping into each other while bathing in the multi-colored laser lights that shot from several different angles around the main living room.

Harvey and Yunjin immediately made their way to the living room turned dance floor, hand in hand and ready to move their bodies however they wanted.

Jurin eventually wandered off toward the kitchen after shouting, “I’ll be right back, gonna go get a drink!”

Leaving Yuna and Y/n together. The two girls made their way to the house's den, which appeared to be the “lounging section” of the party.

Yuna sat down on one of the couches, Y/n taking a seat not far from her.

“Ah, look who showed up.” Yuna spoke up, teasing Sunghoon who was making his way up to her.

“Unfortunately.” He scoffed jokingly. “I actually had a game today but for whatever reason that was completely disregarded.” He laughed and continued to engage in conversation with Yuna for a bit.

Moments later a slightly tipsy Harvey came stepping into the lounge.

“Y/n? Girl c’mon!” She slurred walking towards the girl with a little pep in her step. “This is literally our song and you were planning on just sitting through it?!” She said a little louder than intended, tugging Y/n out of her seat by her wrist before acknowledging Sunghoon with a wiggle of her fingers and leaving the lounge.

The girls had their fun, sticking around for a few more songs to continue their wild dancing. They were giggling and screaming lyrics like they’d had one too many shots but hadn't even touched a drop of alcohol, or at least not Y/n.

“Hey, we should go get drinks.” Yunjin proposed, slowing her movements and already moving to make her way toward the kitchen. The other girls nodded and followed along.

They entered the kitchen, piling at the drink station. Their giggles filled the area as they discussed different things. Harvey’s drunk dance and Yunjin complaining about her hairspray not working since her hair was sticking in all types of directions.

Y/n laughed along with all of them. She really was having a good time. And for the first time in a while, too.

No more crying, she thought. Gotta live my own life.

Y/n seemed to get caught up in her thoughts as she backed into someone, quickly spinning around to apologize.

“Oh, sh- sorry!” A thick accent rolled off of their tongue as they jumped back.

Y/n turned to see a messy blonde heap of strands, paired with an apologetic puppy gaze. Her eyes widened a bit, this interaction catching her off guard.

Jake seemed to have the same reaction, a pink tint spreading across his features. He cleared his throat after realizing he’d been staring for too long.

“Y-Y/n, I’m sorry, I..” His eyes panned to every feature on Y/n’s face, from her eyes to her lips.

Y/n couldn’t tell what he was feeling at that moment. Anger or sadness. Her brain couldn’t decide on how to react.

“Uh, it’s okay. No worries.” She did one of those quick awkward smiles before letting the corners of her mouth fall into a straight line again.

Jake licked his lips, something he did when he was being flirty or wasn’t really sure what to say. Right now was one of those times where he really didn’t know what he could do or say.

“Um, you look..” He exhaled, unable to find the right words to explain how breathtaking Y/n looked. If they were still together, he’d probably pull her into his arms and just smudge the lip product she wore, telling her that she was always so pretty for him. But he knew that wasn’t the case. Not anymore.

“Thank you, Jake.” She said, as if she was reading his thoughts.

Jake wasn’t even sure whether he should’ve been talking to her but indulging in that short conversation made him realize how much he missed her. How he was such an idiot for avoiding her. Or for even ending things between them.

Y/n sent Jake a small smile before following her friends out of the kitchen.

“What was that all about?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow as she sipped from her cup. Harvey hummed in agreement to Yunjin’s question, both of them curious about the sudden conversation between Y/n and her ex.

“It was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Yunjin asked, chuckling. “M’kay.”

JAKE.

Jake flopped on the couch next to Heeseung in the dimly lit lounge room. He waved his hand through the air, shooing the marijuana smoke and scent of different vape flavors away from his nose.

“What’s wrong, king bee? No honey in the hive?” Heeseung said from next to him, smiling while blowing smoke from lips. The girl that sat in his lap stood up to leave, not wanting to intrude the boys’ conversation.

Jake looked over at Heeseung, his eyebrows furrowed. He was still on this whole ‘king bee’ trope.

“No.” He responded flatly.

Heeseung turned toward his friend, studying him.

“Nah, but that’s not what’s bothering you.”

“I saw Y/n,” Jake sighed. “More like bumped into.”

“Aw shit,” Heeseung grinned. Jake didn’t even have to look at him but he knew his friend wanted to laugh.

“So?”

“So? Heeseung, I fucking miss her!” He groaned, slouching on the couch just as he did before the party.

Heeseung took another drag from his blunt before shrugging.

“Hey,” He threw his hands up in defense. “To be honest, that’s between you and her.”

“But remember what I told you tonight was about?” Heeseung asked the pouting boy next to him. Jake turned to look at him with hope in his eyes, confident that Heeseung would go into some motivational speech moment.

“Get. The. Honey.” He nudged Jake’s arm after every word. Jake rolled his eyes, running a hand down his face in frustration.

“Yo, Soleil!” Heeseung shouted to someone, beckoning them over. He patted the spot between him and Jake.

A smaller female took a seat between the boys, looking over at Heeseung.

“What’s up, Hee?” Her voice was on the softer side, causing Jake to look over out of curiosity.

Heeseung nodded his head over to Jake who was still annoyed.

“Have I told you about my friend here, Jake?” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at Jake, making that ‘I’m hooking you up’ face.

“You might’ve mentioned him once or twice,” Soleil shrugged.

Jake’s brows furrowed over at Heeseung. Hopefully he hadn’t mentioned Jake’s whining about being single. Knowing Heeseung, he probably did.

“Hi, I’m Soleil.” She smiled, she extended her hand.

“Jake.” He sent Soleil a small smile, shaking her dainty hand.

Heeseung stood up, stretching as if he’d done a day’s hard work and his shift was over.

“Well,” His eyes remained on Jake, giving him that look boys give each other when there’s an attractive girl around.

“You two.. have fun.” He giggled to himself, putting his blunt in his mouth before walking out of the lounge.

Soleil gave Jake a shy smile while he gave her a small, awkward one. To be honest, he did think Soleil was pretty but she wasn’t Y/n. His mind was still on her.

How amazing she looked. How she sounded. He wondered if she even thought about him at all.

❣︎ ❣︎ ❣︎

prev / masterlist / next

MILAN’S NOTE ▸ CHAP 3 IS FINALLY OUT RAHHHH (can you tell this is my most favorite smau i’ve posted so far) also new character whaaaa 😱 big BIG THANK YOU to @telail & @wonifullove for helping me finish off this chapter and editing it. i couldn’t have done it without you guys 🥹 forgot everything else i was gonna say but hope u guys enjoy!!!! 😁

TAGLIST: @wonifullove @kgneptun @thesunoosshining @lostwonderwall @ariadores @haechansbbg @mrchweeee @instant-joy @jiseokzzz @n-eetune @wntersm @wonyofile @jebetwo @sussycheetos @ilovecats923 @hyuckscore @laylasmother @jakehooni @fertiliezedtoesw @ghostiiess @zyvlxqht @adr1an4 @sasfransisco (message, comment, or send a ask to be added)

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thisisanewlowes · 3 months

Text

'Money Can't Buy You Love' Prologue

Pairing: Hollywood AU!Jake x Reader

Summary: After being nominated for Best Actor for his movie "Whispers Through the Shadows," it is finally time for Jake Seresin to walk the red carpet with his fiance. But with tensions between him and his rival, Bradley Bradshaw, at an all-time high, how will Jake be able to handle the pressure?

Warnings: Allusions to smut, Jake and Bradley are idiots, mentions of alcoholism, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 975

A/N: AHH okay, here is the prologue for my new AU fic, 'Money Can't Buy You Love.' This is a part of the A-List Universe, where actor!Jake and actor!Bradley try to navigate the complexities of relationships under the close watch of the public's eye. I hope you all enjoy!! Make sure to take this little quiz to find out which A-Lister is your soulmate!!

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

“Babe! We can’t be late for the show! Come on!” You yell through the halls of the home you share with your fiance, Jake Seresin. “Jake?” You question as you walk into the mansion’s large master bedroom. You are met with the sight of the tall blond actor still buttoning up his shirt. “Jake,” you sigh, exasperated.

“What can I say, baby? You can’t rush beauty,” he smirked. With a groan, you walk over to where he stands in front of one of many full-length mirrors that stand in your bedroom. Grabbing the tie his stylist had picked out for him, you wrap it around his neck with a bit too much aggression. “Hey, hey, come on now. This tie is expensive, we can’t ruin it. At least not doing something as boring as this,” he said slyly.

You smacked him on the chest and smoothed your dress down from where he was bunching it up. “Jake! Please, tonight is a big deal for you and for my dad. We need to be there on time and not look like we just threw something on.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t mind just skipping it and staying here with you instead,” he jeered.

“Are you drunk?!” You exclaimed with a laugh.

“Leave that up to Bradley,” he grumbled.

“Hey!” You snapped, turning around and pointing a finger up at him, “Not tonight. Now get in the car.”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

By the time you arrived on the red carpet, journalists and photographers were already swarming behind the velvet rope, desperate for a glimpse of this year’s nominees. As your chauffeur opened the door to your sleek black limo.

“You ready?” You asked Jake, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“I’m always ready,” he said with his signature grin. “Let’s go show everyone who Hollywood’s real power couple is.” After stepping out of the limo and giving a wave to the sea of people in front of him, Jake turns back and puts his hand out to help you step out of the vehicle. “Hey,” he said, leaning down so only you could hear him, “You know that I love you, right?” You smiled up at him with what must have been the most adoring eyes the camera had ever seen.

You walked the carpet with grace, stopping to pose for photos with your fiance and his castmates. You also made sure to take photos with your father, who was up for best director for his work on “Whispers Through the Smoke.” Once you got about halfway down, you saw that your fiance’s rival, Bradley Bradshaw, arrived in a white Bronco with his wife.

“Oh my god,” you said, pulling Jake to you. “Is she pregnant?”

“I- yeah- sure- What is he doing here?” Jake grumbled.

“Who? Bradley? I don’t know, why would he be here? Oh, right, maybe it’s for the award he was nominated for,” you teased, eliciting an eye-roll from your fiance.

As you reached the end of the carpet and the buzz died down, Jake took your hand to lead you to your assigned table. After a few minutes of peaceful conversation, you looked around at all the stars who surrounded you in the packed theater. You were amazed and a bit shocked by the big names that you were seeing. Oh my god, is that–?

“What are you doing here?” You heard a man yell. Looking over, you saw Bradley and his wife standing in front of you.

“I’m trying to have a nice evening with my fiance,” Jake retorted, grabbing your limp hand and holding it up for the Bradshaws to see. “See,” he said, waving your hand around for them to see, “fi-an-ce.”

You didn’t know whether to be annoyed or endeared by his antics, so you gave the couple in front of you a polite smile and patted the seat next to you. “Here, Mrs. Bradshaw,” you said, “Come sit with me.”

“Baby,” Jake whined.

“I didn’t make the seating chart,” you loudly whispered back. “It’s fine, it’s probably just for PR. You’ll survive.” You smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder before looking back up at him. “No matter what happens tonight, I’m so proud of you.”

He moved your head towards him to place a kiss on top of your perfectly styled hair before you moved to talk to the woman sitting beside you. “Congratulations,” you smiled at her. “I’m sure you both must be so excited.”

“Yeah,” she said, turning to look at her husband who was staring daggers back at Jake. “Yeah, we are. And, wow, you’re engaged! If you asked me a year ago if I thought that Jake Seresin would ever propose I would have laughed. But the second I saw you two together,” she placed a hand over yours. “I knew that this was something special. Make sure to cherish it,” she added before turning to talk to her husband.

As the hosts got to the stage and started the show, the crowd greww quiet and you felt Jake tense beside you. “It’ll be okay. I promise,” you said, taking his hand in yours.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

“And now,” the presenter declared, “the nominees for this year’s Best Actor award…” He trailed off as the screen began playing clips of the actor’s scenes before cutting to where they sat in the audience.

“Jake Seresin!” The presenter declared, and you saw your fiance up on the screen, waving to the camera, a nervous smile on his face.

“Alright, baby, this is it,” you said to him, squeezing his hand.

Jake nervously fidgeted with the ring on your finger as his body tensed and his breaths grew shallow. “No matter what, you’re proud?” He asked, not looking away from the stage. “You promise?” “Yes, my love,” I promise.

The presenter opened the white envelope in his hands. “And the winner is…”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Tag List:

@environmental-gbcd @seresinsbrat @miselaneas @fantoz @sailor-aviator @teacupsandtopgun @goldenseresinretriever@seresinsweetie @thedroneranger @attapullman @floydsglasses @mrsrobertfloyd @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @paigewinchester67@roosterforme @tgmrooster @topguncortez @seresinhangmanjake @callsigncurse @callsigncowboy @callsign-daydream@teacupsandtopgun @acewritesfics @missathlete31 @themissingmango @blue-aconite @whatislovevavy @sunlightmurdock @bradshawbaby @averyhotchner

#top gun #top gun maverick #glen powell #hangman #hangman top gun #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #top gun rooster #hollywood #top gun au #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman smut #jake seresin smut #actor!jake #actor!bradley #a-list universe

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uyuforu · 2 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/uyuforu/742760539006156801/hiii-i-wanted-to-know-which-part-of-my-natal

hello not my ask but could you do an example with jk chart? its ok if not i dont want to bother

hope you have good day

Jungkook's Style Evolution

Jungkook's style has been something very interesting to watch over the years. A Fashion style and the way dress always have an importance, at it reflects our personality, our tastes, our self, our mood but also our evolution as a being. And as we all know, JK's Fashion indeed changed over the years too. I thought it would be very interesting to take a look, and someone in the ask box asked me to do so. I wanted then to do a full analysis based on Natal Chart and Solar Returns. You can also check it and apply it to yourself! Please note that I couldn't put more than 30 images in this post, which was inconvenient in a way since I couldn't show more. I tried to take pictures that were a good representation of what JK wore every time. I also chose airport outfits since it is the most popular way to see about JK's fashion style and own fashion choices, other outfits were often chosen by stylists.

Techniques used: Natal Chart + Solar Returns

Placements used: Sun, Rising, Rising's ruler, 1H, MC, Venus, Venus's Ruler, Mars, Stellium for Natal Chart. Rising, Venus, Venus' Ruler, MC sometimes, Mars sometimes for Solar Returns.

Book a private reading: menus ; Q&A ; rules

⋅˚₊ Jungkook's Natal Chart Indicators ₊˚ ⋅

₊˚⊹ Jungkook's Sun is Virgo, and it makes him prefer casual clothing. He also prefers sporty style, clothing you can wear outside and inside, and clothing that are comfortable to move in. Simple, nothing too extravagant. The clothing he often wear are so more comfortable and casual than actually looking luxurious. He often wear jeans too. Colors are also basic ones.

₊˚⊹ Jungkook's Rising sign is Capricorn. JK will look masculine, dominant and a little scary or just distant usually. It makes him so chose clothing that will make him appear older, or he will want to dress a certain way that makes him appear as an actual adult. It makes sense since JK always has been often babied his whole life, he chose a style that is dark, and chose to appear a way to makes sense with his Rising. He wants to tell people through his fashion sense and appearance that he is a grown up, a man, and mostly an adult. He doesn't want people to keep treating him like a baby or a child. He wants people to respect him when they see him. The ruler of the Rising sign is Saturn which is in Aries 3H. Aries here makes sense with his style, his tattoos and mostly that JK wants to have a lot of muscles and wants to look attractive physically, he often takes care of his body shape. The 3H is a Gemini house, rulling the arms and hands, and this is where JK has tattoos. Despite his actual look and desire to appear older, JK will still have that youthful look of his, but his fashion style will so be chosen for him to be treated like a man and not a boy.

₊˚⊹ JK's Venus sign is in Libra, and being its own ruler, JK has indeed a good fashion sense. He cares a lot about how he looks and how the clothings he chooses to wear suit him. He is part of the people who can't go out in clothing they don't like. It doesn't have to be the runway kind of fashion whenever he goes out, but he needs to wear what he likes. Even if his outfits seem most of the time casual and comfortable, it is in fact his style and his fashion sense, and he actually likes this style. It looks like he doesn't care while in fact he does. JK also has a lot of different accessories he wears daily. His Venus is in 9H, he has an appearance that doesn't fit the Korean standards, despite that many other Koreans have tattoos and piercings, it is not considered something well seen in the country. More because JK is an idol. He made a revolutionary move by having so much tattoos, showing them freely. Even with his style.

₊˚⊹ JK's Mars sign is in Scorpio, making a lot of sense with the way he dresses. He looks very good in black and dark clothing. He likes the pull off the "Bad Boy" style and it is actually a good idea since it goes well with his Mars sign. He is very attractive and sexier in this outfits, not because of the style itself, but because it goes well with the placement. Dressing according to its Venus style is important but Mars is also very important since it will make you look good and attractive in the eyes of others. JK before used to dress in a much more casual and comfy style like his Sun sign. It suited him well but ever since he started to dress along his Mars sign, you can see his self confidence is higher. Piercings, showing much more his body shape, dark & black clothing, excellent choices. He owns the mysterious and hot guy style. His Tattoos, despite being his personal choices, actually also goes well with his style.

₊˚⊹ JK's MC is Libra, which represents his reputation. JK has the reputation to have a good fashion sense, he explored different styles, yet he knows how to dress well. He is considered as one of the best members of BTS to dress for airport style for example. He also has a good way to dress usually, and always seems to appear very good looking wherever he goes. Whatever he pulls off will suit him.

₊˚⊹ JK has a 1H & 8H stellium, which makes sense since he always stated that his body and appearance mattered much to him. He is often seen working out, and taking care of his appearance. He wants to look good, he also likes to be praised for how he looks, fashion wise but also just also about his body shape. The 8H stellium is clearly a big indicators about how people see him. JK's Neptune 1H first indicate people see him in a way that is not 100% true, they desire him for how he looks, but not actually him as a person. Having a 8H stellium makes JK appear very desirable for most people. He looks hot, sexy, mysterious, just someone people are obsessed with.

⋅˚₊ Jungkook's Natal Chart Indicators ₊˚ ⋅

જ⁀➴ SRC 2015-2016

₊˚⊹ This year, JK was Gemini Rising. This made him dressed in many different colors, and style. He wasn't afraid to mix colors, and mostly was dressing in a more colorful and joyful way. It was also a year of self discovery fashion wise, as JK sometimes wore black, and sometimes colorful outfits. With the 20° (Scorpio), we can see how JK was very shy about his appearance, his body language in most pictures that year made it obvious he was shy. He may also dressed in a way that made him look normal, basic, not extra to make him stand out. Despite also being young that year (He was 2017 years old), his Gemini rising also makes him dresses in a "childlike" fashion style, meaning he dresses as people his age, or with clothing that made him appear younger.

₊˚⊹ Fashion this year was indeed very colorful for men, it was also a year with simple clothing: a jacket, a skinny jean, a simple t-shirt. And backpacks seemed to be also pretty popular, something JK was often wearing that year. Cargo pants were also an iconic fashion trend that year, and JK didn't miss it. This style was similar to the Skater Boy, often wearing beanies too, pretty popular for men and boys around that year.

₊˚⊹ This year's Venus was Leo 3H, again a Gemini placement. With Leo Venus, Fashion could have been really important for him this year, he may have cared a lot. Being in the 3H, it must have been a way to express himself, maybe expressed his mood of the day.

₊˚⊹ Venus' Ruler is the Sun, being in 4H. He may have wanted to dress very much like Korean's Fashion this year, following trends and not wanting to stand out in his own style much. The Scorpio degree on the Sun also make sense, JK didn't seem to be very confident in his appearance, he so didn't want people to notice him much in his fashion style. What he wore was very simple.

જ⁀➴ SRC 2016-2017

₊˚⊹ For this year, JK was Virgo Rising, his fashion style was clear, neat, he was always very well dressed, every accessories making a perfect sense. He started dressing with neutral colors such as Black, dark colors, white, beige, and also often wore Jeans. Very casual fashion style. The 5° on his rising sign makes him have a good fashion style, it's not only casual, you can see that JK has a big interest in Fashion this year. The way he dresses felt like it actually mattered to him. It also makes him in touch with trends and the fashion world, as the way JK dresses was very similar to the trends of that time, despite JK wearing a more "casual" look.

₊˚⊹ JK's 1H Stellium also explains how he got a glow up this year, his appearance really mattered this year to him. Moreover, the Sun is in there, making it really obvious how important it was. His Fashion style was part of his identity.

₊˚⊹ Venus was in Libra 2H this year, with also the ruler being in its home. It was very obvious JK was really into fashion this year, dressing very well. That year, JK wore a lot of skinny jeans, showing his tights and hips very much. He wore casual yet luxurious outfits, which is very logical to me since the venus is in a Taurus House but also with a Taurus degree.

જ⁀➴ SRC 2017-2018

₊˚⊹ The way I just laugh out loud when I saw his SRC this year. It is just so obvious. This is the year JK started to dress in black mostly, Black and White were his only go to Fashion Style. Even jeans were black. This can be easily explained with his Scorpio Rising this year. JK also often wore a leather Jacker, which is such a Scorpio thing to me. It gives me bad boy style tbh. I don't wanna sound cliché tho. With the Cancer degree on the rising, JK indeed followed fashion Trends from Korea this year, Black was seen often and was a popular color (if I can say color).

₊˚⊹ Venus is once again in Leo this year, in 9H. Fashion style could have been also inspired from foreign lands, where indeed leather jackets was a trend. Having more dark colors on their outfits was something that we could often see. Fashion was also very important this year. JK was indeed popular for his bad boy look he wore. The Libra degree on the Venus made him always have a proper look, always looking very well out and harmonious. Being in 9H makes sense since his Fashion look were often popular when he was at the airport.

₊˚⊹ The Ruler is the Sun in 10H, and the MC being in Leo makes a lot of sense to me. Around those years, JK's fashion sense became very popular and his fashion style was part of his good reputation. He was popular for his fashion sense, the way he wore, but also how his fashion made him appear. People were going crazy and often called JK "hot", "sexy", etc. Coming back to the Scorpio Rising, this can also be explained as to why. That made him indeed appear as sexy, hot, and mysterious. People were obsessed with his look. The MC being in an Aquarius degree makes a lot of sense, JK was very popular for his fashion and his appearance online from this year.

જ⁀➴ SRC 2018-2019

₊˚⊹ This year, JK was Aquarius rising. It was very interesting since to me having Aquarius rising makes us look very unique, avant-garde and maybe even following our own fashion style without caring much about trends. JK this year continued to wore black often. Most of his outfits were that colors. He was often wearing clothings the he liked, not caring much about fashion itself compared the the previous years. He was more into comfortable clothing this year than fashion itself.

₊˚⊹ Fashion this year was actually pretty colorful on the runways. Despite the clothing were also comfortable for men, fashion was still around skinny jeans, simple t-shirts, etc. So JK actually dressed different from most of the fashion trends this year. He was still into fashion, but maybe detached himself from the fashion trends and started to go on a self-journey. He was finally finding his own style.

₊˚⊹ Venus this year was in Libra 8H. The darker color, even just black makes sense since it is in the 8H. JK was seen more often hiding his face, letting his bangs being long, often wearing hats and caps that were almost hiding his face. Fashion was still part of him, and he dressed well according to his body type and his tastes. Moreover, MC this year was in Scorpio, which makes a lot go sense.

જ⁀➴ SRC 2019-2020

₊˚⊹ This year was a brand new beginning for JK as he started to get Tattoos, the first ones on his hands. Funny thing since this year, JK was Gemini rising. And Gemini rules also over the hands but also the arms, and JK also had some more tattoos later in 2020, on the arms.

₊˚⊹ This year, JK was so Gemini Rising with a 9°. Despite Black was still being his go to color, he was wearing clothings with different style. He was also known for his iconic hairstyle this year (the curly hair), that people created the Dora meme with. He was wearing a sporty casual style, with big clothing that made him look tiny. He could wear very casual and good outfits and the next time wear a very casual and sporty outfit. It seemed like he cared and other times he was just wanting to wear more comfortable clothing.

₊˚⊹ Venus this year is in Virgo 4H, his style was very casual, and very everyday style. It was a style which was comfortable and you could wear everyday. The Ruler is in the same sign and house, which adds to the fact JK really wanted it to be comfy and without any extra. He was also wearing a lot of oversized clothing this year again, which add more comfort.

જ⁀➴ SRC 2020-2021

₊˚⊹ For 2020, JK was Leo Rising with Aries degree. JK wasn't wearing much on his heads this year, often wanting to show up with different hairstyles. His Fashion was more "fashionable" than comfortable this year. He often expressed his own style and give more importance to his clothing style. Patterns appeared much more than last year. While JK was always wearing simple clothing before, he showed more patterns from this SRC.

₊˚⊹ The Venus was in Cancer 11H, JK was still wearing comfortable clothings. He was still on finding his own style as the way he was dressing wasn't that seen on the runway. He was using trends in the way he wanted to wear them. For example, the plaid pattern was seen often on runways this year, and JK also wear those, but in a more casual manner, in a more comfortable manner.

₊˚⊹ Since his Venus's ruler is the Moon, it is in Aquarius 6H, comfortable clothing, and preferring to wear his own style. I think it's over these years JK really imposed his own style. He knew he was into comfortable and casual clothing, but I feel like it's around the beginning of 2020's that his fashion style really became his.

જ⁀➴ SRC 2021-2022

₊˚⊹ This year is really iconic to me, it is the years JK's QG's photoshoot went out and it was viral. An icon. His Rising this year was Scorpio 8°, full Scorpio. If you want to know more about the photoshoot, I advise you to take a look because it's the best representation of this rising. This year JK looked mysterious, often once again wearing black and not much patterns. He sometimes wore some but not much. He was mostly in plain black and mostly showing much more his abs and body shapes with his clothing. He was full on the piercings and tattoos. It was truly the bad boy style this year, it also reminds me of the Hongdae Men lol.

₊˚⊹ His Venus was Libra 12H, and I remember that JK's shoes collection was wild this year, people were often posting and discussing about his shoes. Since Pisces/ 12H rules over the feet, it makes a lot of sense. Coming back, indeed JK's sense of fashion was wild, and he was often seen posing for photoshoots. His Leo MC makes a lot of sense.

₊˚⊹ His rising's rulers were Mars (11H) and Pluto (3H), JK's fashion was very popular online this year too, he was still in his own style and not caring much about most of trends, he was wearing what he wanted, and I almost want to say he was the creator of trends. He was versatile, going to comfy to luxurious style. He could pull everything off!

જ⁀➴ SRC 2022-2023

Didn't include 2023-2024 since JK is currently in Military.

₊˚⊹ This year JK was Capricorn Rising. His style was def more dominant. The way he appeared was always was very masculine too, showing much more his skin, abs, and body. Even in photoshoots, he wasn't just trying to show his fashion sense, it was also about the vibe he wanted to give to people. During this SRC, Seven went out and I suggest you to look at the photoshoot of the album... :) Saturn being the Rising's ruler, is in the 1H, making it obvious JK wanted to show a strong appearance, proving to people he is not a child anymore.

₊˚⊹ The Venus was in Leo 7H, JK was wearing a good fashion style still. It was still his iconic look but he looked very attractive because of his good style. JK's fashion this year was less sporty and comfy, it was more about the actual fashion. He was wearing jeans and casual attire yet it was similar to the SRC 2016-2017. His clothing and fashion were really well put together and accessories were often seen on him. Not only his piercings, but necklaces and beanies too.

₊˚⊹ Venus ruler is the Sun which is in 8H,JK had a mysterious, sexy and hot aura once again this year. He was showing more his body and even while working he chose a style that looked like that. He also started to do a photoshoot for Calvin Klein this year, which was iconic to me. It was the first time people were actually seeing JK's abs. The photoshoot shows JK's persona, as a dark bad boy (he loves that style). It actually suits the MC, his reputation was someone hot, sexy and mostly a man that was really desired.

Thank you for reading!

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#uyuans #jk #astrology #bts #jungkook #kpop #jungkook astrology #bts astrology #jk astrology #astro #astrology fashion #kpop astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #jk fashion #jungkook fashion

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