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lovifie · 4 months

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Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 6: Boundaries

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, a bit of angst before the nasties ❤️

The good thing about the three of you doing the walk of shame together is that at least you are not the one who got it worse. Price is walking like he just came of the confessional, not a sin committed in his life; you look like you should, like you just got fucked nicely but nothing a couple of minutes laying down can't help you disguise and Gaz… poor Gaz look a bit destroyed, but he carries himself with a certain attitude that makes you think: “Good for him.” and it helps him look confident if it wasn't for a weak limp as he walks. And if you are able to tell, you are sure the rest of them can as well.

“Pay up, Johnny.” Ghost says extending his hand to Soap as they sit on the sofa.

“Fuckin’ he'll, Gaz.” Soap answers, taking his wallet from his back pocket and dropping a £20 on Ghost's hands.

“You made a bet?” You ask curious sitting on the floor getting your legs under the table, Ghost and Soap are sitting on the sofa, Price sits down on the armchair and Gaz sits on the armrest of the sofa.

“Yeah, about who would break the truce first.” Soap explains and turns to look at Gaz. “I thought you were stronger than this, mate.”

“What truce?” You ask, sending Ghost a quick glance to ask him to play along. He doesn't say anything.

A beat of silence goes around the room, everyone expecting the other to talk. It is Price that breaks it clearing his throat. “Right, I'll explain it. We talked about you, about how we have been treating you and about how it shouldn't have happened.”

Your stomach turns at the confession, and a voice screams in your head: “I told you, idiot! Giving yourself like a whore on sale! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!” You hide your hands between your thighs to hide the shaking and swallow the spit pooling in your mouth.

“Not like that.” A warm hand on the top of your head brings you back. “Try again, Captain. So many ways to phrase it, and you choose the worst.” Ghost says

Price rubs a hand against his face, exasperated with himself. “What I meant was… that we don't regret what we have done, we regret the way we have done it. Yeah?”

And it reaches your ears, but it doesn't get to your brain. Since the whole ordeal began, the cruel voice in your head that doesn't let you enjoy things has been scratching the walls of your head to try and make you focus on her and let her plant the seed of self-doubt in you. But you pushed her back, and the kisses and caressing of the men in front of you helped greatly. It was like seeing a shadow from the corner of your eyes, but when you turn your head it disappears; but now, hearing from Price that it shouldn't have happened, even if he was just a poor choice of words, it has made you turn your head to your shadow but this time it hasn't disappeared. Instead, it's looking at you and laughing at your face for being stupid.

“You alright, birdie?” Ghost brushes your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand cupping your jaw and turning your face to look at him. Concern floods his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, but doesn't push it when you nod at him.

“What we wanted to do, was do the things that we should have done before we got freaky.” Soaps continue. “Go on dates, expend time together… get to know ye. Those things.”

It only fuels your confusion. “What?” You ask looking at Price. “Dates?”

“You… you don't want to?” He asks mirroring your confusion.

“Do I have a say?” You ask, genially confused. And to you, you mean it as in “Do I have the power to choose between offers? Do I have the power to ask for you? Do I deserve more than crumbs of attention and respect?” But to them, it sounds like: “Do I have that power?”, you know, as if you haven’t gotten under their skin and you couldn't move them like puppets at your will and want.

“I don't understand.” You mumble rubbing your face, eyes burning with tears.

“What it is?” Gaz asks sitting straight, focusing on you.

“Why?!” You ask a bit louder that wanted. “Why me? Why do you care about me? Because I can understand that I threw myself at you and to never look a gift horse in the mouth, but what I can’t understand is why you would go out of our fucking lane to worry about the fucking shitty horse!”

The tears are flowing freely down your face by now, and you realise that they are all looking at you with expressions you can't read. You have cried in front of them before, but it was out of fear for your life, you are fine with that. But letting them see you cry because you are an idiot that caught feelings? Nah, that's too much. “I'm sorry, I… I need a moment.” You stand up, managing to get out without any of them catching your hand and lock yourself in the bathroom, in the little space between the sink and the bathtub.

You cry your feelings out, wanting to just dry yourself out before going out, but Ghost beats you to it and knocks on the door. “Can I come in, birdie?”

“The lock doesn't work.” You mumble between sobs.

“I know, that's why I'm asking.” He says, he cracks the door open slowly and sticks his head in looking at you. “Can I come in?”

You nod, and he enters closing the door behind him. He lifts you up from your hands making you whine like a child, sits down where you were and sits you on his lap. “You got a thing for tiny spaces.”

The TONK sound of Ghost hitting his head on the sink following the curse words makes you chuckle at the ridicule of the situation. Ghost finally settles down, and he cups your face making you lay your head on his chest.

“What has you so upset, birdie? What is making you so sad?” He asks, the rumble of his voice travelling through your body.

You shrug your shoulders. “I just don't get it… why me?”

“I don't know, birdie… you just are.” He says caressing your face. “I can't explain it, it's just… you. We have been trained and forced to be methodical, use logic, don't get carried away by emotions, years and years of training. And now you are here, and we don't know how to act.”

You bury your face in his chest, taking in the new information, but without interrupting him. “When we entered your flat, Price saw the chair on the balcony and he almost jumped head first just to check if you were on the ground. Gaz has gone against Price's direct orders, and trust me, Gaz would rather cut his own arm than go against Price… Birdie, I'm not going to call it love and act like I know how that works. But don't bury the corpse without killing it first.”

You look up to him, and find him already looking down at you. He gives you a kiss on your forehead through the mask and asks: “Give us a chance, birdie. Please. We are all adults, we'll talk about it. Set bases and rules so everyone is happy and comfortable. But you need to let us try. Only once, birdie. That's all we need.”

Simon's words enter your head, finding the idiot voice that lives inside and slapping her across the face. After a while, you no longer have the need to cry, and even though you are elated by Ghost's comfort, it is not fair to the three men seating in the living room.

You stand up first, Ghost's hand on your back. You grab his hand to help him stand and put the other hand on the edge of the sink so he doesn't hit it again, earning yourself a chuckle from him.

Soap is the first to see you, sitting with Gaz on the sofa. Price is still in the armchair, smoking a cigar. You walk up to him, picking the cigar from his hand and letting it down on the ashtray. You sit on the armrest of the chair, putting your deets on his lap and your hands between your thighs.

He looks up to you almost holding your breath, like the next thing that you will say could seal or break the deal. “You don't regret meeting me, right, John?”

His face twitches, as if you had just slapped him across the face, and he quickly shakes his head bringing his arm up around you to move you to his lap keeping you close. “No, dear, no. I could never regret meeting you, I'm sorry I said it like that, I promise I'm not usually such a muppet.”

“I wanna give it a try.” You say and look up to him. “But I'm scared.”

“You don't need to be, what's scaring you?” He ask looking at your face.

“You don't know me… what if once you get to know me, you don't like what you learn? If you get bored? Or disgusted…” You mumble, talking more and more softly as you bury your face on his neck.

“Now you are just talking nonsense, love.” Price says, cupping your face and peeling your face away from his neck. “And you are thinking too highly of us, what if you are the one who doesn't like us?”

“That's not-” You begin to say, ready to argue that it is not possible to not like them, that they look like they have come out of a firefighter calendar, that they have been nothing but kind and caring with you, that if you found something about them you didn't like it would most likely to bother you enough to break away. But you look at his face, and he has this know-it-all expression that quiets you up.

“Exactly, love.” He says and lets you hide your face again. You sigh, tired of your feelings and start to stand up. “I'm gonna have a shower.”

“Wait!” Soap says standing up quickly and sprinting to the kitchen, coming back out with different kinds of shampoo and body skin care products. “How about a bath? A bubble bath?” He asks, happy to cheer you up and to have an excuse to mess around with the different liquid.

You nod quickly smiling widely and watch him run to the bath. Price calls your attention with a tap on your lower back and explains: “Gaz and I need to go back to base, Ghost and Soap will stay with you tonight, that's fine with you?”

You nod again, saying goodbye to both of them, feeling too awkward to hug them because of the newly exposed feeling even if just an hour ago they were balls deep inside you. You run to the bathroom when Soap calls your name.

“Quickly, bonnie. Get in before it goes cold.” He says, satisfied with the sweet smell and bubbly water. “Do you need anything else?”

“Actually, can you lend me some more clothes? I'm pretty sure I have run out of clean clothes and underwear.” You admit, looking a bit ashamed.

“Sure, I'll bring ye some of mine. I'm sure ye'll fill in my knickers just fine with that fine arse of yers.” He mumbles in your ears, earning himself a slap on his biceps as he exits the bathroom to pick up the clothes. He drops them by a little later and lets you to enjoy your bath.

The bath truly helps you relax, of the tightness in your muscles and of the exhausting feelings in your head. It also leaves you room to think about them, to rationalize them. Simon is right, you cannot say no just because you are scared it may not work out in the end, not without trying first.

After some time, the water starts to get cold, so you drain the tub and grab the towel to dry yourself. You look at the clothes that Soap lend you, and realise he only left his briefs and a t-shirt; cheeky bastard.

As you open the door, the smell of food floats around the whole house and it makes your stomach rumble. Ghost and Soap must be making dinner. So you walk down the hall, entering the kitchen without thinking.

And part of you blames you for it, but another part is really glad you didn't.

Johnny is on his knees, in front of Ghost, getting his mouth fucked by the late one. The wet sounds of Johnny gagging around Ghost’s dick as it hits the back of his throat almost hide the sound of your steps, but not good enough fot Ghost.

“Hi, Birdie.” He groans, caressing Johnny head in such a tender way it clashes with the filthy image. “Are you hungry? Johnny here couldn't wait for dinner.”

“I can see…” You mumble back looking at Soap, unable to peel you away. You are glad you just got out of the tub, being able to attribute your blush to the heat of the bathroom. Still, no bath can explain the way you clench your thighs together, and Ghost chuckles when he notices.

“C’mere, birdie.” He instructs, extending his hand to you. You grab it, feeling him pull you close; his hand moves to your waist, cupping your face with the other. “I really want to kiss you right now, pretty bird”

And you know what he is asking for, to break the truce; because if you initiate it, he is technically not breaking it. And it is cruel, especially to Price that you know is going to be the last one to break it, but right now, with Ghost mask up to his nose and Johnny chocking on his dick, your mind is busy.

You get on your tip toes, urging Ghost to bend down and he gives you a quick peck on your lips. Just to seal the deal, before he pulls your head from the back of your head making you open your mouth to groan and he gets his tongue inside your mouth, turning the groan into a moan.

It is such a filthy kiss, its only fitting for a filthy situation that you just yourself into.

Johnny doesn't last before calling for your attention, but he doesn't call you, instead, he pulls your leg between his and starts humping his leaking dick against you. It makes you look down breaking the kiss and making Ghost look down as well, he chuckles seeing the Scotsman so desperate and grabs a handful on his mohawk making him let go of his dick with a POP sound. “Don't fuck her leg, you fucking mutt” Johnny whines when he grips his hair harder and Ghost looks up to you. You can see the gears spinning inside his head when he looks from you to Soap, both grabbed by the hair, and you are not really surprised when he says. “Get on your knees for me, birdie.”

When you drop to your knees, Ghost pushes you and Soap’s head closer to each other and Soap bites your mouth kissing you as he devours your lips. His knee on the ground is against your cunt, and when he flexes closer to you it makes you moan inside his mouth.

Soon, Soap’s tongue is not the only thing in your mouth and you feel something blunt nudge at the side of your lips. You pull apart an inch, opening your eyes, just in time to see Ghost’s dick slide between Soaps and your mouth. Both tongues getting tangled around his already wet length, Ghost moans without letting go of both of your head. Soap hands find their way to your waist, and start to help you grind yourself against his tigh.

“She is going to ruin your underwear, Johnny.” Ghost manages to say between grunts and moans. “Better to help her take them off.”

Big hands grab you from under your arms hoisting you up, Ghost holds you against his chest with your back pressed to him and Soap helps you take off your underwear. Just when you are naked from the waist down, you feel Ghost slip his dick between your folds, rubbing your clit on his way forward. His red tips stick out from between your legs, and you can almost feel Soap mouth water and the sight of both your crotch together. “C’mon, Johnny, I didn't tell you to stop sucking.”

Johnny’s tongue is warm against your skin, and for a second when you look down, all you see is Ghost fucking Soap’s mouth through you. Until Ghost begins to thrust, and his tip keeps nudging at your clit and if it is not his tip it’s Soap's tongue running side to side on it.

Ghost is still hugging you from behind, his face now hidden in your neck moaning little words that don't make sense, you grab his arms trying to keep yourself steady, you can barely reach the floor having to be on your tiptoes on top of Ghost's feet.

The mix of it all, feeling almost like a fleshlight by Ghost, Soap moaning and gagging so close to your clit and Ghost’s dick rubbing again and again against your clit, has you cumming embarrassedly quickly. And if it wasn't for the way Ghost moans against your neck when you clench your thighs together, pulling Soap’s hair again to keep him from sucking him, basically edging himself not to cum yet, you would be embarrassed. Instead, you are almost ready to cum again in mere seconds.

“It looks like Johnny is a bit needy right now, doll. Do you wanna sit on his dick, hm? Suck my dick while you do? Johnny has been talking nonstop about that little mouth of yours, birdie. Been driving me crazy.” He says as he kisses your neck, leaving it wet with his spit as he barely manages to speak properly.

Soaps, still on his knees, sits on his feet, cock free and ready for you to sit on it. You hoist his lap, getting your knees on the floor sided to his forcing you to spread your legs. You rest your hands on his knees as you lower yourself, and moan in tandem with Soap once he is completely seated.

Ghost grabs your hands, almost picking you up, and moves them to his thighs to allow you to support yourself. Soaps begin to move, slowly, letting you get adjusted to the stretch, as he begins to fuck you almost doggy style. It pushes you forward, and you moan against Ghost’s dick making him shudder.

You start to kiss his tip, soon getting your lips around it earning a moan of your name from Ghost. He caresses your head, brushing your hair away from your face. Soap grabs your waist, helping himself fuck you faster, skin slapping against your ass making you moan as you suck Ghost’s dick.

It is almost as thick as Soap's, but it's the way it hits your throats that makes the difference. Tears prick at your eyes, slowly falling down your cheeks, and when Ghost sees them he coos at you as he smears them on your cheek with his thumb.

You can see his half-open mouth thanks to his mask being risen, and you clench your cunt when you see him bite his lips to keep his moans from spilling out. Soap hugs you from behind, bitting your shoulder and begins to piston in and out of you. His hand goes south, rubbing at your clit and you grab Ghost’s thigh sticking your nails in making him hiss almost like a moan.

“I'm gonna cum all over your pretty face, hm? Painted like a canvas, love.” He groans grabbing your hair. “While Johnny paints you inside, all ours, inside and out, love. Our little birds, all ours.” He keeps mumbling, taking his dick out to jack it off in front of your face.

You stick your tongue out while looking at him, and moan when Johnny change his speed, becoming sloppy and switching the speed with slower but deeper thrusts. He moans against your shoulder, biting again hard and that's enough to send you over the edge. Johnny and Ghost following you as if they were waiting for you.

Ghost spents end up mostly in your mouth, but you feel the hot spurts settle on your face making you close your eyes. Soap sits down, stretching his legs, and he pulls you with him, softening your dick still inside of you.

“I wish I could send Price a picture right now” Ghost says chuckling looking down at the both of you who chuckle too with difficulty to breath.

“I think… I think we should go shower again, bonnie.” Soaps says behind you, and you can only agree.

Once cleaned, the three of you sit around the sofa ready to have dinner, quite delicious and gracefully, not burnt.

“So, bonnie, ye wanna go on date?” Soap asks with his mouth full.

“I was gonna ask first, was swallowing my food.” Ghost says, almost scolding him.

“Actually… I thought about it, and I think I want to go on a date with…

Hii, how are you?!

The next chapter is your choice, bam, bam, baaaammm!!

Let me know if there is any kind of date or anything like that that you would like to happen, hehe.

Also, just an explanation in case anyone was confused. As I said, English is not my first language, which means I don't really know many idioms in English, and that plus the fact that when I can remember how they are I just make up my own, sometimes they lack some sense 🤣.

When in this chapter Ghost says: "But don't bury the corpse without killing it first." I was thinking about the phrase "to sell the bear's skin before catching it", but that one is actually the opposite, it is when you are a bit too optimistic about how things are going to play out. So I don't know how I ended up writing the corpse one, and then I remember the fact that Ghost was buried alive and it just... in my mind it made sense.

Sorry if it doesn't 💗

As always, thank you so much for reading and for commenting, love youu ❤️🌸

Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith@renabear88@lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @dontworryboutitokie @cassiecasluciluce @sodavrr @missmidnight-writes @anirok2 @lilliumrorum @ladyxtiger @multy-fandom-lover @thriving-n-jiving @lotionlamp @spicyspicyliving @xxeiraxx @vampirekilmerfic @keiraslayz

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transmascissues · 6 months

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some thoughts about top surgery recovery, as of 3 days post-op:

when they say using your chest muscles sucks afterward, i never realized exactly how much was going to be be limited. coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, laughing — all of it is terrifying right now. even talking for too long starts to put that kind of stress on my chest, and my voice isn’t as strong as it usually is. it takes me forever to fully empty my bladder when i’m on the toilet because i’m totally relying on gravity to do all the work (and shitting was effectively impossible without a stool softener even though i haven’t taken the pain meds they said i would need them for)…and don’t even get me started on figuring out how to wipe (hint: back to front while sitting, using my dominant hand to push my non-dominant hand far back enough). using the computer is also harder — i was planning on playing lots of baldur’s gate after, but for the first couple days i could only really go for a few minutes before using my arms that way got too tiring. having a mastectomy pillow has been an absolute godsend when i’m using my phone because i can prop my arms up on it and not really have to use any muscles at all to hold them up.

the biggest piece of not being able to use my chest muscles right now, which i’m writing separately because it’s been such a huge thing for me, is that i cannot sit up or back by myself at fucking all. like, if i sit on the couch and lean back a bit to sit against the cushion, it hurts to pull myself back up to fully straight — and if i’m leaning back any more than that, i just can’t do it at all and i’m stuck there unless my boyfriend puts their hands behind me and pushes my dead weight back up. i totally get why some people sleep in a recliner now because i’m completely at the mercy of having someone there to help move me around once i’m at any sort of angle. sitting back is mostly the same as far as what i can do, and arguably hurts worse to attempt at all, but my ability to do it seems to be coming back faster than my ability to sit up. if you’ve never had your mobility limited to that extent before, prepare yourself: the first time you’re stuck somewhere and the person who normally helps you doesn’t answer immediately can be really fucking scary (i learned that the hard way).

the anesthesiologist warned me that i might have a sore throat after surgery from being intubated, but i was not prepared for what “sore throat” ended up meaning for me. you know that feeling of swallowing something that’s too big and you can still feel it in your throat even after it’s down? it’s like that times 20, and further down in my throat. the worst pain i’ve felt in the last three days wasn’t from the surgery itself, it was from trying to swallow pancakes when my throat was at it’s worst. today is the first day it’s even started to fade, and even now, it hurts just to swallow my own spit. i don’t know about you, but that’s not what comes to mind when someone tells me “you might have a sore throat”.

on that note, the incisions themselves have really been the least painful part in general, probably because the nerves there aren’t reconnected yet. the vast majority of my pain and discomfort at this point has been from the drains and bandages — the drain sites getting sore or just randomly starting to sting, waking up feeling suffocated by the ace bandages, etc. it’s not because anything is wrong with them — the drains weren’t placed wrong and the bandages aren’t too tight, they’re just a huge pain in the ass to deal with 24/7. i can’t express how much i’m looking forward to getting the drains out and being able to take binder breaks because it’ll make things so much more comfortable.

my incisions are connected in the middle because my chest tissue was all really close together, and the part where the incisions connect is really the only part where i’ve felt any pain so far. i suspect it’s because the swelling on either side is making that part of the incision push together and press against itself, and then the binder pushes on it even more. it’s not a severe pain at all, but i do sometimes lift the center of the bandage off my chest for a second to give that spot a bit of a break.

i’ve already started getting some of the weird sensations associated with nerves reconnecting, and it definitely is wild. so far, it’s been mostly tingly feelings, sometimes like chills and sometimes more like a limb falling asleep. (weird observation: taking a shit makes my ribs tingle? i’ve got no good explanation for that one.) i’ve gotten a zap on one side and some buzzing feelings too. it’s pretty mild right now, probably because it’s so early on.

i’ve also gotten what i would describe as phantom boob feelings, especially on the first night. specifically, when i close my eyes, sometimes i’ll feel like someone is touching or jiggling the boobs i don’t have anymore. definitely not a super pleasant experience, but i think being out of it from the anesthesia still really helped me not be too upset by the worst of it. i’ve gotten a couple little phantom nipple touches too, but those were just split second blips of sensation that were far less bothersome in comparison.

i never realized that the classic post-op hunch is caused more by the binder than by the body itself, but we had to take all of my bandages off the night after my surgery to send pictures of something to my surgeon, and i was shocked by how much straighter i could sit with everything off. i was definitely still hunched, but it was more like a natural slouch and less like i looked like i was using an invisible walker. with the binder on, it’s super uncomfortable for me to try to stand straight at all because it feels like the ace bandage doesn’t come with my body and just drags everything down, and i’m always holding my mastectomy pillow or my hands to my chest while i walk around to stop it from feeling like gravity is going make the bandage tear my chest open.

every so often, when things are getting especially painful or uncomfortable or just generally difficult, i do start to wonder if i made the right choice. not because i regret getting rid of those things — not by a long shot — but because it’s a fucking hard process to go through. this is probably the hardest thing for me to admit, but the rational part of my mind knows it’s natural to feel that way once in a while. all of this is temporary and the relief from dysphoria will be permanent, but right now? this is my entire world and it doesn’t feel particularly temporary and i do have moments of “why do i have to go through all this when other people get to just have the right body from the start? why couldn’t i just live with what i had? why can’t i just be living my normal life right now?” no matter how sure you are of your choice, no matter how proud you are of being trans, this shit is hard and it’s okay to feel that.

i’m going to put the pictures of my chest one day post-op under the cut, because i think it’s pretty rare to see pictures from that soon after the surgery. they’re not gorey at all — the actual incisions are totally covered by steri strips and everything around them is clean — but still, if you don’t want to see relatively fresh surgery results, don’t look under the cut.

for all the discomfort and pain and limitations and other weirdness of recovery, every time i look at these pictures it reminds me of exactly why i’m doing all of this, and i’m so glad i kept fighting for this for so long. some people might never understand why someone would choose to go through this whole process, but i know it’ll be worth it in the end.

here’s my chest one day post-op! i think it looks super good and my surgeon said it looks like it’s healing perfectly (as much as it can be healing at one day). for reference, my chest was a DDD/F before surgery. i know this isn’t how my chest will look in the end, but i’m already thrilled with how things are turning out! i’ve truly never been more confident in my choice of surgeon — like, come on! look at that! she did so good!

#top surgery adventures #<- gonna start putting all the posts about my top surgery in that tag #top surgery #trans man #transmasc

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

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Late Night Rides

Moodboard made by me

Pairing || Dilf!Neighbour!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || Having a secret affair with Bucky and needing to meet up secretly in his car for a chat and sex so you won’t get caught.

Text messages; Bucky || Reader

Word Count || 3987

Contents & Warnings || Smut, Fluff, Slight Angst — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, major age-gap (reader is early 20’s, Bucky is early/mid 40’s) infidelity, pet names (babe, baby, doll), unprotected vaginal sex, lots of kissing and touches, teasing, grinding, spanking, praise kink, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || I’m so happy with this fic! I really put down extra love and care into this one and I’m so excited for people to read it <3 but also nervous

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Dilf!Neighbour!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

It’s Wednesday night, and you've been cooped up all afternoon inside your room to do some last-minute studying for an important exam tomorrow. You’re lying on your stomach on the bed with your comfy clothes on. Legs crossed in the air as you review some final notes to ensure you are 100% prepared for tomorrow.

You’ve created a pleasant atmosphere for studying—calming music is playing through your AirPods, and the healthy snacks and drinks you’ve made for yourself keep your brain fed so you can cram all the knowledge into your memory with no problem.

A ping of your phone, signalling a text, pulls you out of the concentration, making you groan in annoyance. But once you see who the message is from, you can't help but feel all giddy inside like a schoolgirl with a major crush.

It’s from Bucky, your hot next-door neighbour and the man you’ve been hooking up with behind everyone's back for a few months. It’s been a while now since you’ve talked or texted.

You’ve both been busy with your lives the past two weeks; you with school and him with his wonderful two kids and his bitter wife, so you haven’t been able to see each other in private.

The only contacts you’ve had were some quick hello’s and secret glances when you bump into him in the neighbourhood. Every time you saw him, you yearned for his delightful touch and attention—his soft lips on yours and his intoxicating hands worshipping your skin as he whispered how good you are for him. You shudder at the thought as your stomach fills with tingling butterflies.

For a few days now, you’d hoped you would meet up again soon, and it seemed like tonight might be it, although you should be studying…

Hey! You still up?

Hi! Yeah looking over some final notes for my exam tomorrow 🤓

Right yeah I forgot it's on Thursday. Good luck baby ❤️ Text me when you finish tomorrow

I will 😚 But was there something you wanted due to the late-night text?

Just wanted to see if you were up for a drive. Everyone’s asleep and I could use the company. But I don’t want to disturb you. Do some more studying baby. Get a good night's sleep! I know you will ace this exam tomorrow because you’re such a smart girl ❤️

You felt your stomach fluttering as he called you a smart girl. He was right. You would absolutely smash the exam tomorrow because you’ve been studying hard and you knew the topic like the back of your hand.

You needed a break; you deserved it. So you decided to take up his offer and have some much-needed fun with him (which would definitely lead to sex.)

I want to see you. I’ve studied enough now. Give me a sec. I just need to get dressed and I’ll be out ☺️

Really!? Ok I’ll wait at the usual spot

You put on some more appropriate and easily discardable clothes for your and Bucky’s “date”, if you could call it that. A short skirt, a cute top, and a cardigan to keep you warm on a chilly night.

Very quietly, you tip-toed downstairs and out the door, making sure not to wake your parents, who were sound asleep.

Although it's late and dark, you walk quickly past the neighbouring houses. Paranoia overwhelms you that someone may see and recognise you, despite all the houses being pitch black and not a single soul walking the streets.

You get into Bucky’s car that’s waiting for you a few houses down. You don’t even get to say hello before he’s cradling your face and pressing his lips firmly to yours—eagerly moving them against yours to familiarise himself with them again after the long absence. You melt into him and place your hands on top of his as you make out.

After a few moments, he pulls away, leaving you breathless and making you inhale a shaky breath. He smirks as he brushes his nose with yours while muttering a low “hi.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you also greet him with a trembling “hey”. Your mind still foggy from the kissing, and butterflies flutter in your stomach at being in his presence.

“I missed you so much, gorgeous.”

“I-I missed you too.”

He pressed his lips to yours again, wanting to continue where you left off and then some. He put his hands on your waist, wanting to pull you on top of him so you could progress this even further, but you stopped him before he could. It’s not that you didn't want to be pressed up against him; you just didn’t feel so comfortable going at it right in your neighbourhood.

“B-Bucky.” You placed your hands on his chest and lightly pushed him away. “I-I don’t feel comfortable doing this here. Can we drive somewhere a little more private, please?” You pouted.

If Bucky could choose, he would have you right here and now. Loving the rush of potentially getting caught by one of your neighbours that decided to go for an evening stroll, but he knew you weren’t comfortable with it, so he respected your boundaries.

“Of course, we can, baby.” He caressed your cheek while giving you a heartwarming smile, making his eyes crinkle. “I never want to do something you’re uncomfortable with.” “Thanks, babe.” He gave you a sweet peck before he put the car in drive, and off you were.

He turned up the radio a bit to have some pleasant background music and put the heating on to warm you up.

You removed your cardigan, which made him side-eye you and lick his lips as you revealed more of your tempting skin. He gripped the steering wheel hard to try and resist the urge to stop on the road and take your hard. He wanted to have you somewhere alone and secure before he started exploring you because there was no way to stop him when he began.

You glanced over at him as well. He was clad in jeans and a thin sweater, so you couldn’t see much of him. But you knew he was packing behind those pants and that his torso looked like a Greek statue. It made you ache between your legs and mouth water that you would soon have all the time to explore his naked body.

After a while of comfortable and sexually charged silence, you and he effortlessly slipped into a conversation as you talked about your weeks apart—catching up with each other’s lives. There wasn’t much to talk about from your side. It mostly revolved around school and studying for the exam.

Bucky had loads to talk about, especially with his two kids. He beamed with love and happiness as he spoke of them. Laughing and getting so enthusiastic as he shared the latest. It was so heartwarming to see and hear.

You missed them as well. You’d gotten a good connection with them the first time you ever went to babysit. That’s how you met Bucky, and you had fallen for him instantly.

Talking about his kids naturally moved the conversation over to his wife. That’s when the atmosphere switched to something more unpleasant and tense. You didn’t say much while he talked about her, just listening to him complain and letting him vent about how much he essentially hated her, although he never said it straight out.

It wasn’t really your place to say anything about her, although you had lots of input. You wanted to tell him to get a divorce because the constant arguing between them wasn’t leading to anything, and it was bound to be taken out on the kids negatively. You wanted to tell him that he deserved to be happy. If not with you, then with someone else who would give him the love and intimacy he deserved. You just wanted what’s best for him and his children.

After the rant and mention about his wife, it got a little awkward in the car. You knew what you were doing was essentially wrong even if their marriage was on the brink of collapsing and probably not savable, but still, you felt a little guilty about being with a married man. A homewrecker was something you never wanted to be, although his wife was doing that just fine herself.

“You know, the kids miss you. They're always asking when you’ll come over again to play.” Bucky said while looking over at you with a smile, trying to break the awkward tension he created between you two.

Your heart filled with warmth when he told you that they’d been asking for you. You missed them so incredibly much as well, and you couldn’t wait to see them again soon.

“How about this weekend? After my exam, I’ll have loads of free time to hang out with them.”

He placed his palm on your naked thigh, giving a squeeze, as he beamed with happiness once again. “They would love that, and so would I.” He looked over and smiled, which made you feel all fuzzy inside.

For the remaining few minutes of the car ride, until you got to your destination, you sat in now comfortable silence with each other.

Once you arrived at a more secluded area, Bucky turned off the car. You were all alone now. No one would be able to disturb the two of you.

You thought now, when you were for yourselves, he would toss himself over you like he usually did, but he retracted further from you as he furrowed his eyebrows, looking deep in thought as he tried to find the right words to tell you something.

“I’m sorry about the whole, you know….” He gestured with his hands, hoping you would understand his meaning without mentioning who or what he was talking about.

“Bucky, it’s okay. You can always talk to me about anything that’s bothering you, no matter what it is. I’m always here to listen.”

He let out a puff of relief that he hadn’t screwed up anything with you. “Thank you.” He tilted his head as he looked at you, a smile decorating his beautiful face. “That means a lot.”

“I just want you to be happy.” You took his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. It fit so perfectly in yours, like two puzzle pieces meant to be. You never wanted to let go. “I really care about you, Bucky.”

“I care about you also, so much.”

The words you said to each other felt like they held an entirely different meaning. A synonym for those three words that would absolutely change everything if you said it. But neither you nor Bucky were ready to take that next step yet, so for now, “I care” was enough to convey your feelings for one another.

You gazed into each other’s eyes for a few moments. An entirely new atmosphere was brewing around you—one of intimacy, love and neediness.

Bucky’s eyes were fixated on your lips before they flickered to your eyes and then back down again. Your heart beat fast in your chest, and your core fluttered as you leaned into one another. When your lips came in touch, there was no denying the sparks that exploded between you two. You and he were perfect for each other; there was no denying your intense chemistry together.

You kissed slowly and sweetly at first—expressing your love and care for one another through it. The kiss gradually built momentum when his hands grabbed your waist, digging his fingers into your skin, and yours snaked in the hairs at the back of his neck. Your lips now eagerly moved against each other as you were both impatient to feel one another to the fullest.

Bucky nips your bottom lip and growls against you as he tugs you towards him, conveying that he wants you on top. With a bit of awkward shuffling, resulting in a few “ops” and “sorry’s” and lots of giggling, you managed to find your place on top of him, resting your legs on each side. Due to the car being so crammed, your head hits the roof when you go to adjust yourself in his lap.

“OW!” You cry as you rub the top of your head while wincing in pain, which sends Bucky into a slight panic that you’d hurt yourself pretty bad.

“Oh my God, baby, are you okay?” He questioned nervously as he cradled your head while concern was written all over his face. He didn’t like seeing you in pain.

“Y-yeah.” You grit your teeth and suck in air as he touches the tender spot.

“You sure?” Bucky can’t help but chuckle a little, which you do as well.

“I’m sure. All is good now. I-I’m sorry, Bucky. That wasn’t very sexy of me.” You look down in shame, fiddling with your fingers, thinking you ruined the moment between you two with how clumsy you were.

“Hey.” He lifts your chin with two fingers, making you look at him. “You’re always so fucking sexy, even when you smack your head on the roof of my car.” He chuckles again. “You still want to keep going?” He runs his hands up and down your naked thighs, which makes you sink further into him, craving his closeness and intoxicating touch.

“I do.” You mumble against him as a smirk curves on your lips. You cup his cheeks, feeling his scruffy beard underneath your palms, and press your lips firmly to his, continuing where you left off a few moments ago. His tongue caresses yours as his hands reach under your skirt, palming your ass, kneading and squeezing the plump flesh in his grasp. With his hands holding a tight grip on your ass, he aids you in grinding on his covered bulge; your clothed core glides against the rough material, making you moan into his mouth.

With a slight change of angle, your clit brushes against his hardening cock, making you gasp while Bucky leaves open-mouth kisses underneath your jaw. His beard tickles and makes your skin feel tingly when he kisses down your neck.

“Hmm… that’s the spot, isn't it?”

“Y-yes.”

“Keep going, baby.” He mumbled against your collarbone while travelling his hands upwards, leaving you to take control of your hips as he danced his fingers on your waist. “Grind yourself on me, my pretty doll.”

You keep moving on him as he kisses and touches your flesh. Bubbling pleasure builds fast in the pit of your stomach, and you want to chase it, but you need his cock buried deep within you much more.

You stop and call his name, which makes him look up at you with a puzzling expression on his face.

“Why’d you stop?”

“I-I need you so bad.” You grab him through the jeans, making him groan as you palm and caress his cock through his pants. “I want your cock in me so bad.” You purr in his ear, grazing your lips on the shell of it, making him shiver against you while a growl vibrates in his throat.

Becoming impatient as well, he helps you with discarding your top, followed by swiftly unclasping your bra and letting it fall down your arms. His eyes widen when your breasts are exposed, muttering a curse as he takes in their beautiful curves. He’s quick to kiss down the centre, taking advantage of the newly bare skin. You moan and toss your head back as he licks each nipple and tugs at them, making you hiss at the dull pain and grip his dick firmly.

“I love how easy it is to get you so riled up, gorgeous.” His words tickled your skin as he kissed each breast before he got to work on removing this jumper while you undid his pants.

Once he was bare in front of your eyes, you took a minute to study his physique. Your eyes follow your finger as you trace every contour and dip of his chest and abs while he continues trailing his hands on your skin. You part your lips as your eyes fall on his cock, quickly taking him in your hand, making him groan. A glob of your spit falls on his tip, saliva coating his length as you stroke him in teasing motions.

Your lips find his again as he reaches under you and presses his fingers to your covered core, touching you through the soaked material. Yours and his groans and moans muffled into the kiss as you feel and tease each other.

He pulls your panties to the side and yanks your pelvis closer to him, desperate to feel you wrapped around him.

Once you’ve felt like you both had gotten enough of the teasing, you glide his tip through your messy and sticky folds before lining him up with your entrance. Slowly, inch by inch, you descend onto him, your walls hugging his length to perfection, making you and he sigh in satisfaction at finally being connected after so long.

Bucky was starting to become impatient, so he slammed you down the last few inches until you sat on him entirely, making you cry out at the force. He takes hold of your jaw tightly. “That’s it, baby. Right where you fucking belong on my cock and nowhere else.” He grunted against your lips as shivers ran down your spine at his assertion. “This is my little pussy, isn't it?” You nod yes as your eyes become heavy and your mind gets lightheaded with his whole cock sheathed inside you. “Be a good girl and ride me.”

Slowly, you start to rock back and forth on his cock, getting used to having him nestled deep within your walls. He grabs your ass in his hands, helping you move on him as he looks over every inch of your body, licking his lips at having you in such an intimate and personal way, looking so fucking gorgeous and sexy.

You wrap your arms around his neck for leverage as you move up and down on him in quick motions as sounds of pleasure escape your parted lips. “You feel so good inside me, baby.” You whimper against him as your lips brush. His tongue pokes out to swipe on your bottom one.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He gives your ass a harsh spank, making you yelp and jerk upwards till only his tip is inside you before he slams you right back down, your ass slapping his thighs. Continuing this movement rapidly till the only sound filling the car is skin on skin.

Due to your activities, it was starting to become hot and steamy in the car—the windows fogged up. Your glistening bodies moved effortlessly against each other due to the slickness.

All the sensations and stimulations of feeling every ridge of his cock and his tip brushing against your sweet spot, along with his fingers dancing and digging into your sensitive skin, has your face contour in pure pleasure as moans, groans, and whimpers from you both echo in the car.

After a short while, it was starting to become a bit difficult to move on him with the limited space, so Bucky reclined his seat backwards until he almost laid down flat, making it easier for you to ride him.

Placing your hands on his chest, you roll your hips on him, finding the perfect rhythm as your breasts dance along. Bucky trailed his hands all over your body, kneading and caressing your flesh, as his hungry, dark eyes took in your mesmerising form, licking his lips and muttering a curse. “Just like that, baby. God, you look amazing.” You were so appealing as you rode him, so sinful as you claimed his cock and soul for yourself.

His cock twitched against your fluttering walls as he produced a throaty groan when you ran your hands over your naked body. From your hips, up your waist, until they rest on your breasts, palming them in your grasp as you close your eyes and toss your head back. Your face presented pure pleasure as you got deeply lost in the sensations. “God, you’re so fucking sexy it’s unbelievable. That’s it, baby. Such a pretty girl for me.” The sound of his deep and husky voice praising you goes straight to your tingling clit, which Bucky finds a second later and circles with his thumb, making you convulse on top at the overstimulation.

All the sensations are so deliciously overwhelming that you find it hard to keep upright as your mind becomes foggy and your body becomes weak. You fall onto him and let him take charge.

He braces himself, holding your ass firmly in his grasp before he starts thrusting upwards in long and satisfying strokes, till his tip is inside and then forcing himself balls deep, having your cry against his lips as he keeps praising what a good girl you are for taking him all. Your orgasm builds rapidly, ready to snap and wreck you at any moment.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, Bucky.” You bury your face in his neck, crying against him as you shut your eyes hard. With a few more quick thrusts, the coil in the pit of your stomach ruptures, sending you into a mind-blowing frenzy of nothing but overwhelming pleasure. You embrace the euphoric orgasm as it impacts every single nerve in your body, making you convulse against him as your pretty sounds runs free.

Bucky mumbles a low curse as his cock twitches, and his hips jerk unevenly. He wraps his strong arms around your torso as he holds you close. Not a second later, he spills his cum deep inside you, decorating your fluttering walls as he grunts and moans deeply.

You’ve never felt more satisfied and complete as he fills you up to the hilt with his cock and seed. While Bucky couldn’t imagine anything more remarkable than your tight and warm walls hugging his length.

Once he’s given a few more calm thrusts, ensuring you’ve both gotten everything out from your orgasm and you’re both fucked out and satisfied, he stills, nestling inside you where he belongs. You exhale a shaky breath as he cradles your face and makes you rest your forehead on his, your noses brushing. “You’re so good to me, baby.” He mumbles as he runs his hands up and down your clammy back, making you shiver at his electrifying touch.

His crystal blue eyes gazing into yours, displaying nothing but adoration for you, made you almost utter those three words you’ve been holding in. You even parted your mouth to say it, lips quivering, but instead, you crashed into him to stop yourself. You poured the love into the kiss instead, hoping he would understand as you moved your lips against his passionately. “I know, baby.” He whispered against you, knowing exactly what you were trying to say.

He caressed your cheek as he furrowed his eyebrows, looking intensely at you.

“You said earlier that you wanted me to be happy.” You nod your head yes. “Well, I am happy. When I’m here with you, I’ve never been happier.”

He smiled from ear to ear, eyes crinkling. It made you fall for him all over again. Your face beamed with happiness upon hearing that, making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “I’m happy too, Bucky.”

He gives you a final sweet peck before you nuzzle your face in his warm and comforting chest, sighing in delightfulness as he strokes your arm and back lovingly. You stayed for a while longer, holding and cuddling each other, appreciating the last moment of your private and intimate alone time before you had to return to your everyday lives where you had to keep your relationship secret.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

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thealtoduck · 11 months

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Psycho

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader

Warnings: Light-angst, Peter gets mad at reader, alcohol-use, Reader is drunk, mentions of a sex-act…

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader: Masterlist

Summary: After a night out with his friends a drunk Y/n has to be picked up by Peter to get help home…

——

Peter was at home studying for a chemistry test he had in two days. He was nose deep in a book when his phone started ringing, he looked over on the screen seeing the name ”Y/n L/n”, he streched his hand for his phone and pressed the ’answer’ button.

”Hey Y/n, what’s up?” Peter greeted. ”Hey Peter, yeah, i’m good, just hanging out” Y/n answered his words slightly slurred. Peter assumed he was out drinking somewhere with his friends. ”What about you?” Y/n asked.

”I’m studying for the chemistry test” Peter said while reading through his notes, he heard your friends being loud as usual in the background. ”Oh yeah right, we have chem” Y/n answered messily. ”Why are you calling? Do you need anything?” Peter asked curiously.

”No, just wanted to check in on you, haven’t seen you much this week” Y/n mumbled. ”Y/n, you sound like you’ve been drinking, will you be able to get home safely?” Peter asked worried knowing Y/n’s friends weren’t the most reliable people.

”Uhh yeah, Caleb’s driving i think” Y/n answered casually. ”Is Caleb sober?” Peter asked seriously. ”He’s the most sober” Y/n insisted, knowing Peter would get worried. ”Where are you? I’ll come pick you up” Peter stated. ”No Peter it’s fine, keep studying, i’m fine, plus it’s gonna start raining soon” Y/n told him but Peter had alredy gotten up and walked towards the front door.

”Y/n, where are you?” Peter asked sternly, Y/n sighed and said in defeat ”We’re in the school parking lot”. ”I’ll be there in 20 minutes” Peter said putting on a raincoat. ”Okay… see you…” Y/n said weakly and hung up and Peter left his apartment.

When Peter arrived it was raining heavily and he found a soaked Y/n with an almost empty bottle in hand sitting on the curb. ”Where are your friends?” Peter asked looking around the now empty parking lot. ”I said they could leave, i told them i was getting picked up” you said taking a small sip from the bottle.

”You could’ve at least waited in their car til i arrived, you might catch a cold like this” Peter said helping Y/n up from the curb. ”It’s fine” Y/n said as he found his balance.

”Come on, let’s go to my place” Peter grabbing your arm lightly to try make you come with him and you knew there was no point arguing back. You threw your bottle in the closest trashcan after taking one last sip and you made your way to Peter’s apartment.

When the two arrived and stepped through the door you were drippig wet from top to bottom. You sneaked in to Peter’s room and Peter helped you out of your wet clothes and in to a pair of his boxers. ”Thanks Peter, i promise i’ll be out before May wakes up, you two shoudn’t have to deal with me like this” you said as Peter came back from putting your clothes in the dryer.

”Don’t worry about it, just get some rest” Peter said tired as he walked back to his desk where his chemistry book and notes were waiting for him to continue where he left off. You walked up and hugged him from behind suggesting ”Can’t i do something to thank you, like a blow-job or something?”.

”No! Y/n the only thing i need you to do is go to bed so i can study, okay? This test is important” Peter said annoyed. Y/n let go of him and softly said ”Okay…” and stumbled quietly to the bottom bunk and laid down. You watched as Peter sat down and started studying again.

You didn’t fall asleep tho you just laid there watching Peter study while you felt bad for calling and bothering him in the first place. About an hour later Peter got up and changed in to his pyjamas and got ready for bed.

He was about to climb up to the top bunk but you stopped him saying ”Hey Peter” through your drunk daze. ”Yeah” Peter said crouching down beside you. ”I’m sorry, i interrupted your studying and about all this, you shouldn’t have to deal with me like this” you apologised.

”It’s fine, Y/n, just be more careful” Peter said holding his warm hand on your cold bare shoulder. ”I will” you answered. Peter then climbed up to the top bunk.

”Hey Peter, we’ll be okay right?” you asked softly.

”We’ll be okay” Peter answered.

Then you both fell asleep…

The next day Peter woke up and climbed down from the top bunk and saw that Y/n wasn’t there. He looked around the room and noticed a note on top of his chemistry book.

He picked it up and read ”Hi Peter, sorry i left early but i needed to get home to get stuff for school. Plus, I didn’t want May to see me. But thank you so much for everything tonight and again, sorry i interrupted your studying. You’re my hero. - Y/n”. Peter smiled and put the note inside his chemistry book. He picked up the book to go get ready for school.

#peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #spider man x male reader #spiderman x male reader #peter parker x male black cat reader #marvel x male!reader #male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #mcu x male reader #avengers x male reader #avengers x male!reader

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honeypiehotchner · 2 years

Text

Gravedigger’s Daughter (Hangman x Fem!Reader) -- part four

This is so long I am SO (not) sorry. There is A LOT that happens in this part which is why it’s so long, but it all had to happen!!

Also, I hit 4.8k followers last night??? I have gained like 300 followers since starting this fic, which is absolutely insane to think about, but hello everyone!! Welcome to the emotional rollercoaster/occasional whorehouse that is my blog and fics 🤪

Summary: You’re finally back in Fightertown to visit Penny and Amelia, but there also happens to be a group of aviators back at Top Gun. One of which who seems dead-set on wooing you.

Warnings: lots of angst (I’m actually sorry for this), some sadness, Iceman’s funeral, some fluff (omg who knew!!)

WC: 5.3k (whoops)

A harsh jolt back to reality came the next day.

You had just come out of the shower when you heard Penny on the phone, her voice breaking. Your walk to the kitchen is slow, knowing.

When someone dies, it’s a specific kind of voice. A specific kind of hurt.

You thought you heard her on the phone, but you actually heard her talking to Maverick, who is standing in the kitchen, his hair a mess. He has tears streaking his face, and you know.

“Oh, Mav.” You pull him into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

You had the pleasure of meeting Admiral Tom Kazansky a couple of times. You knew his health was on the decline, but you didn’t realize it was this bad. For him to be gone so soon.

“Thank you,” Maverick replies, hugging you tight.

He explains that the service is tomorrow. They’re taking a few hours off from training so everyone can attend, pay their respects, but they can’t take off the entire day.

That is yet another clue to you of how dangerous this mission is.

Maverick leaves to clear his head, and you ask Penny if she has something you can wear. You didn’t bring anything for a funeral, and you’re certain jeans and a shirt won’t be appropriate. Sure, you could drive the 20 minutes to your apartment and get something, but you know if you do, you won’t make it back. It’ll be too hard.

Thankfully, Penny understands, and says she has something.

The Hard Deck doesn’t open for the night. The whole town feels eerily quiet.

At the service, it begins to rain. You’ve never been to a funeral on a sunny day, so this doesn’t surprise you.

The entire thing is a fog. No funeral is ever easy to get through, and these are especially hard. And when Taps is played, you find yourself immensely grateful that you stayed toward the back of the crowd, so you’re able to fall to the ground without disrupting anything.

Hangman finds you after the service, when you’re standing underneath a tree, leaned against its trunk as you take deep breaths. Everyone is sharing condolences, and you did a fair share before you had to excuse yourself.

You offer a small smile when Hangman approaches you, which he attempts to return.

“How’re you holding up?” he asks.

“I’m okay,” you murmur. “You okay?”

“I’m good. Are you sure you’re alright?”

You sigh heavily. “My dad is buried here.”

Hangman nods slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Just trying to figure out if I want to go see him or not.”

“Would you like me to walk with you?”

You lift your head, almost telling him no. Because you don’t really need to see your dad. Yesterday was enough with the helmet and seeing Uncle Solomon and walking around Top Gun again. But a bigger part of you wants Hangman to meet your dad, even if you won’t admit it, even if it’s only through his grave.

“Sure,” you reply. If anything, it’ll make it easier to walk over, having Hangman’s company.

Just like yesterday on the tarmac, Hangman holds out his arm for you to take, and you gladly do, leading the way to your dad’s grave.

His body isn’t actually here. Because of the way he died, there was nothing to bury. You don’t know how his helmet survived; you haven’t asked. You don’t really want or need to know the fine details.

The two of you walk in silence. You’re too busy thinking of what to say and you’re sure Hangman doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, so he keeps quiet.

When you reach your dad’s marker, tears well up in your eyes all over again.

You’ve only been here once, and that was with your mom. She went by herself all the time, but once her cancer got worse, she couldn’t make it on her own. The last time she visited was with you, pushing her in a wheelchair, along a piece of carpet you had the funeral director set out for you.

Hangman shifts his arm to wrap it around your shoulders, pulling you into him. This makes the second time you’ve turned and hid your face in his chest, wetting the fabric with your tears. But he doesn’t mind. He holds you closer, tighter.

You’re not sure how long you stand there. Time seems to pass differently in his arms.

But a whistle from the other end of the cemetery catches both of your attentions, specifically Hangman. He stiffens. Sighs.

“I have to go, honey, I’m sorry.”

You nod, lifting your head and smiling gently. “I know. It’s okay. Training’s important.”

He nods, agreeing with you, but he’s frowning. He doesn’t want to leave you. Not when you’re sad like this. “See you at The Hard Deck tonight?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “If Penny opens.”

“Right,” he says. Another whistle. Last call. “I gotta go.”

“I know,” you reply, taking a step back from him. You smooth your hands over his chest, getting out the wrinkles of his uniform. “See you later.”

“Later, sweetheart,” he promises, taking your left hand and squeezing once, then kissing your knuckles.

The gesture leaves you swooning, but he has to let go quickly and walk away. Well, more like jogging away. Everyone was waiting for him. You can see Maverick watching Hangman leave you. And you turn away, back to your dad.

“Well,” you say aloud, walking closer to the marker. Even though your dad isn’t technically buried here, he’s still here. “That was Hangman. His name’s actually Jake, though I know you would only use his call sign.”

You sit down on the grass, realizing too late that it’s wet and this is Penny’s dress. Oh well. You’re sure she won’t care, as long as you wash it.

“It’s been a while,” you say. “Too long, I know, but hey, I’ve got a big girl job.”

Your dad never wanted you to work unless it was a job you adored with all your heart. But when he died and your mom got sick, you had no choice. It didn’t matter if you loved your job, you just needed money.

“Uncle Solomon gave me your helmet,” you murmur, picking at the grass. “I don’t know what to do with it. He said you wanted me to have it, but… I don’t know, maybe I’ll get a glass case for it. I bet you’d fuckin’ hate that.” You start laughing, remembering what he used to say.

“This is our home, not a goddamned museum.” He never wanted any of his medals and things to be on display in any grand way. If they were sat out on a bookshelf or hung on the wall, sure, but mixed in with other things, not on their own. Not like a shrine. Or a museum.

“I won’t do that, I’m teasing,” you chuckle, sniffling right after and wiping your tears off your cheeks. “What do you think I should do with it?”

You know he won’t answer, but you still felt like asking. He’d probably say, “Wear it.”

“Dad, I…I need to ask you something else.”

You’ve thought about coming to visit him ever since you got to Fightertown. Well, ever since you met Hangman.

“The man who walked over here with me,” you start, resting your chin in your palm, your elbow on your knee. “Jake, he-- I don’t know what it is, Dad. About him. But he makes me want to stay. Here, back in Fightertown. Mom and I moved away, and I know you wanted to live here your whole life, and I did, too. When you died, I thought I wanted to live somewhere else, but I don’t. I wanna be here.”

It begins raining again. It’s cold, but it almost feels like a hug.

“I don’t even know if he’ll be here. He’ll probably get deployed, or go on missions like you did. He’s going on one soon. But I want to stay, I just don’t know how. There’s so much to think about between a place to stay, and a new job. I mean, I could commute, it’s only 20 minutes, but with traffic and-- I don’t even like the job that much. Being back here with Penny and Amelia, I want to always be here. I want to watch Amelia get older and graduate and--

“I told Mom I wouldn’t fall for a guy like you, like Hangman, but I might be. I might be, Dad, and it scares me, and I wish you were here to meet him. To scare him away, I guess,” you chuckle. “He even flies the jet you used to. Same exact one-- I touched the wing, finally,” you add eagerly, grinning. “He helped, but still. I did it.”

The rain slows to a stop again.

“I should go, I guess,” you murmur. “Don’t want to get sick. It was good to see you, Dad. I should come visit more often, I know. Hey, if I move back here, then I will,” you chuckle, standing to your feet. “See you next time. Love you.”

+++

The Hard Deck opens that night, but it’s quiet.

The aviators are here, including Maverick. It’s so much of a quiet night that even Amelia is here, drinking a virgin cocktail at the bar, on a stool next to Mav. They’re playing a card game with Penny. They look like a real family, and that tugs on your heart.

Hangman is sitting at the other end of the bar, watching you with sad eyes. You’re cleaning glasses, even though there isn’t a rush. You’re keeping yourself busy and distracted, and Hangman knows.

“Hey, Hangman!” Fanboy calls out. “Football on the beach! You coming?”

Hangman looks at you and you nod. “Yeah,” he yells back. “Coming.”

You flash him a smile. “Have fun.”

He doesn’t respond with any of his usual wit. Just a grin and a nod. He takes his beer with him.

You watch him go and then turn toward Penny. “Deal me in,” you say, hanging up your towel and grabbing a glass for your own beer. “What are we playing?”

+++

“It’s dark as fuck outside, and you wanna play football?” Hangman says, taking a long swig of his beer.

“Makes it more fun,” Coyote replies, grinning.

“If you say so,” Hangman shrugs, setting his beer on the deck.

“What crawled up your ass?” Rooster comments, tossing the football to Hangman and nearly nailing him in the nose.

“Nothing,” Hangman replies, tossing the ball back, spinning it and nearly nailing Rooster in the chest.

“Damn,” Rooster laughs loudly, tossing it to Fanboy.

“Did she reject you or something?” Phoenix asks.

“Again,” Payback comments.

“Very funny,” Hangman snaps, catching the ball from Fanboy and throwing it to Bob.

Bob catches it and tosses it right back. “She’s into you.”

“Glad my love life is everyone’s business,” Hangman says with a scoff, pelting the ball back to Rooster. “Seriously?”

“We’re just looking out for you, man,” Rooster replies.

“Right,” Hangman laughs. “You all hate me.”

“Woah, no we don’t,” Phoenix interjects. “Where’d you get that idea in your head?”

“You’re an asshole, but I don’t hate you,” Rooster says. “Come on, dude.”

“Alright, fine,” Hangman says. “Forget I said that.”

“So what’s up with Y/N?” Coyote asks, swiftly changing subjects.

“Nothing,” Hangman repeats, tossing the ball a little too hard once again.

“You haven’t told her yet, have you?” Fanboy says.

“Told her what?” Bob says.

“Come on, Jake, you’ve gotta tell her,” Phoenix says.

“Maybe,” Hangman shrugs. “Now are we gonna play or keep jawing? Think fast!”

Bob nearly gets hit in the face with the football if it weren’t for Phoenix grabbing it first, and shooting off through the cluster of guys for a touchdown.

+++

“How are you winning? You’ve never played this before,” Maverick groans.

“Amelia is helping me,” you shrug. “And I’m helping her. Use that one,” you point to one card in her hand.

Amelia goes out as you expected her to, and Maverick looks like he’s getting a migraine.

“Alright, bedtime for you,” Penny laughs.

“What?” Amelia protests. “Come on!”

“Not because you won,” Penny says. “But because it’s almost midnight.”

“Oh shit,” Maverick cusses. “I should get going.”

“It’s past your bedtime, huh, old man?” you laugh, nudging his arm.

“Very much so,” Maverick replies with a smile. “Want a ride, ‘Melia?”

“Mav…” Penny warns.

“She’ll wear a helmet,” Maverick says. “And hold on tight. Right?”

“Right,” Amelia nods. “Please, Mom?”

“Fine,” Penny caves. “But I’m right behind you in the car. Don’t go too fast.”

“Yes ma’am,” Maverick grins wide. “Come on, kiddo.”

“Wait for me!” Penny yells, watching them go. “I swear, those two.”

“They’re a fun pair,” you laugh. “You have your hands full.”

“Don’t I know it,” Penny scoffs. “Will you lock up for me?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you smile. “I got it. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“See you,” she squeezes your arm before heading out, walking briskly. Maverick wouldn’t leave without her, though. You haven’t even heard his bike engine start yet.

You begin closing up, cleaning up the last few glasses and wiping off the bar top. You switch the lights off, stacking the last few chairs. The good thing about having a well-loved owner of this bar means the patrons usually help close, too. The chairs are normally stacked by midnight.

You head out the back door, locking the doors behind you. The aviators have left the beach, but Hangman is still down there.

“This is yours,” he says, holding up his glass. “Sorry.”

You chuckle. “Come on.” You unlock the door and wait for him to bound the stairs with his empty glass.

You place it in the dishwasher, turning it on. Hangman waits for you as you finish up.

“Will you sit on the beach with me?” he asks. “Just for a few minutes. I know it’s late.”

“Sure,” you say. “Let’s go.”

Hangman turns and holds out his arm. “For you.”

You take his arm with a smile, letting him lead the way down the deck and to the sand.

The moon provides some light, but not much, especially not with the clouds. They haven’t fully left the sky since this afternoon.

“I’ve really enjoyed this week with you,” Hangman says.

“Me too,” you murmur. “You’ve made coming back here…not as hard as I expected. You made it easier, so thank you.”

“That’s the best compliment I’ve ever gotten, Y/N, thank you,” Hangman replies. He rests his hand over yours on his arm.

“I know I shouldn’t ask,” you begin, and he furrows his eyebrows, “but when are you leaving?”

Hangman sighs. “Honey, you know I can’t tell you.”

“I know, just--” you pause. “I have to go back to my job soon. I’m almost out of vacation time.”

“How soon?”

“Day after tomorrow,” you reply quietly. “If I don’t see you before you go, I just wanted to tell you that-- Be careful.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Hangman says.

“I will anyway,” you admit. “I just wanted to say it.”

“Well, thank you,” he says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but he stops himself. “Want me to walk you home?”

“I have my car,” you say. “How about I give you a ride back to Top Gun?”

He gets a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

“I’m not staying,” you warn. “Just dropping you off. Don’t get too excited.”

“Alright,” he laughs.

“Mhm,” you smile, digging your feet into the sand to get some traction. “Relax. Don’t make me ditch you on the side of the road.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh yes I would,” you quip, patting his arm.

Gentlemanly as always, Hangman opens your car door for you (after you promise not to drive off without him). You roll your eyes at him.

“Just get in the car,” you laugh.

He does, grinning wide while he buckles himself in. “What tunes are we listening to?”

“Tunes?” you echo, starting the engine. “Are you geriatric or something?”

“Jesus,” Hangman grimaces, feigning hurt, but then he smiles. “I’ve got one. Can I play it?”

You hand him your phone, which is hooked up to the car’s radio. “It better be good or I will ditch you.”

“Awh, come on, sweetheart,” he says. “You’ll love it.”

You give him a look, putting the car in reverse. It takes a minute for him to find the song, but once you’re on the main road, it kicks in.

You recognize it immediately. “Oh my fucking god. You did not.”

“Turn it up!” he cackles. “This is music, baby!”

“You’re insane!” you yell over the music, but you’re laughing with him, and he looks so carefree that it hurts.

He knows every single word, and you don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes on the road instead of watching him.

The chorus gets close and he grabs your free hand. “Sing it with me,” he grins. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

He sings his heart out while holding your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles, occasionally using your hand as a microphone.

All too soon, you reach the entrance to the base, and Hangman reaches over to turn the music down.

“Back again?” the guard at the entrance says.

Hangman leans over and waves, showing his ID. “Just dropping me off.”

“I don’t need to go through,” you explain. “I’m turning around.”

“Yes ma’am,” the guard nods. “I’m sure you know how.”

“I do,” you smile. “Thanks.”

“Yes ma’am, have a good night.”

You roll the window back up and pull up so you can back out. Hangman is quiet, until you look over at him and he’s frowning.

“Hangman…” You shake your head. “You and I both know that if I go through that gate, I won’t come back out.”

His face softens.

“You should go,” you whisper. “Please.”

He nods. “Okay.” He’s still holding your hand, and he squeezes it again. He lifts your hand, almost kissing it, but he stops himself, letting go. “Goodnight.”

You hate it. You want to go through that gate, up to his room, and not come out until tomorrow. But you can’t. You know better.

I’m sorry, you want to say. But instead you say, “Goodnight.”

+++

The next morning, you tell Penny you have to head back to San Diego after dropping Amelia off at school. Penny drives slowly back to her house, where your car is parked.

“You know, there’s that one room that is just storage in my house,” Penny says. “We could clear it out, put a bed in there.”

“Penny--”

“It’s just an option,” she argues. “I’ve been wanting some help at the bar. I can afford to take on an employee, if someone was willing and experienced enough to--”

“Penny. I’d love to.”

She nearly swerves off the road. “What?”

“Calm down,” you laugh. “Keep us on the road, first of all.”

“I’m fine-- What are you talking about? Are you serious?”

“Yes. Dead serious,” you smile. “I didn’t want to impose, or invite myself, so I didn’t know how to ask, but--”

“You are always welcome,” Penny says seriously. “What about your job?”

“I’m going back today to quit,” you explain. “I didn’t want to say in case I chickened out, but no,” you shake your head. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Alright,” Penny nods. “It’s settled then. Let’s go quit your job.”

“Let’s?”

“Oh yeah, I’m driving you. Do you have everything you need? We can go now, I can help you grab some more clothes. What about your apartment?”

“My lease is up next month,” you confess. “I never renewed it. It never felt…right.”

“That means it’s time,” Penny smiles sympathetically. She switches lanes to head for San Diego, turning up the radio.

Your boss is surprised, but knows he can’t stop you, so he lets you go, and says your last check should be deposited next week. You grab your things and go back out to Penny’s car.

When you open the car door, you grin, “I’m free!”

“Yeah you are!” she cheers. “Get in here!”

The next stop is lunch, and then the two of you eat at your apartment.

“I should call the office, I guess,” you say in between a mouthful of fries. “Let them know I’ll be moving soon. I have until the end of next month I think, but if I can go early, I don’t think they’d mind.”

“Amelia and I can help you move this weekend,” Penny says. “We can surprise her.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

You pack a few changes of clothes to take back to Penny’s, and then the two of you are headed back to Fightertown.

+++

The next two days are a blur of laughter and dancing and some of what feel like the best moments of your entire life.

You’ve been trying not to let the imminent mission drain all the joy from your days with Hangman and the other aviators, but it’s harder than you’d like to admit. You don’t know which night might be the last, for now, but because of how you were raised, you can spot the signs. You hate that you can do that, but you can’t ignore it.

Especially when all the aviators call it an early night. With one beer each at seven, and leaving by ten. Ten.

“I’ll see you,” Hangman says. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. And he leaves out the tomorrow in his sentence.

“Hey, wait,” you practically fling yourself over the bar, but hitting your hip on the counter isn’t what hurts. It’s that Hangman barely slows down. And he doesn’t even look back. But you know he heard you. He had to.

You finally catch up to him once you’re outside.

“Hey!” He stops this time, hanging his head. “Did you hear me? I said wait. I wanted to--”

“I can’t,” he says.

“You can’t?” you echo. “What are you talking about? Hangman, look at me.” You place a hand on his shoulder, trying to turn him, but he doesn’t budge. So you walk around him and face him. “What is going on with you?” You don’t know why you ask. You know the answer. But it’s not fair.

“I have to go,” he says, his jaw clenched.

“I know,” you breathe. You knew the day was coming soon. This means it’s tomorrow. Why does it have to be tomorrow already? “Can I at least give you a hug?”

“Don’t,” he says quickly, halting you in your tracks. He shakes his head, holding up one hand to stop you.

Now it feels like something else is wrong. “Jake. What is going on?”

“Nothing,” he replies. “Sweetheart, you know I can’t say anything.”

“I know that, but you’re acting like you don’t even want to speak to me. Just an hour ago we were playing darts and you couldn’t stand close enough and now-- Are you seriously walking away from me?”

“I can’t,” he says again, but he’s still walking away. “I have to go.”

“Are you kidding me?” You have half a mind to run after him, but you let him keep stepping away from you. “Oh my god,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Everything was fine. Everything was fine. What the hell happened?

You expect him to come to his senses and turn around, run right back to you and tackle you in a hug. You know this must be hard on him, but to walk away like that? Without even a hug? Without a real goodbye?

This has to be a joke.

You walk around The Hard Deck to the beach, planning to sit in the sand and clear your head before going back inside.

Instead, you walk right into the water, right up to your knees. You don’t want your clothes to get wet, but you need to feel the waves. Desperately.

The wind is blowing a storm in; the lightning illuminates the clouds just along the horizon. It’ll be here in a few hours.

You wrap your arms around yourself, hating that it gets so cold out here. You just want to enjoy the water, not freeze to death.

Penny comes to find you just a few minutes later, after you’ve gotten out of the water and walked back up the beach.

“I’m closing early,” she says. You hear her footsteps in the sand slow to stop next to you.

“Did Mav tell you?” you ask. You’ll be damned if he left without saying anything to her.

“Well, not exactly. You know how it is.” She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you? Did Hangman say anything?”

“Not exactly,” you chuckle, but it gets caught in your throat.

“Hey, hey, what is it?”

“He didn’t say anything,” you cry. “He just-- He just walked away from me. He wouldn’t even let me hug him. I’m so mad at him right now I could just--”

Penny cuts you off by pulling you into her arms. “I know,” she says. “I know.”

Out of everyone in the world, you know she gets it.

+++

You toss and turn for most of the night, and the storm isn’t helping. You can usually fall asleep during them, but not when the wind sounds like it can make trees collapse.

At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself. Storms never keep you up, but tonight is the exception. Not worrying about Hangman.

You have no idea how you heard the knocking on the side door, but you did. That doesn’t stop you from grabbing your dad’s helmet, though, to use as a potential weapon. Because who the fuck is knocking at four in the morning?

“Hangman?” you nearly scream when you see him standing outside the door, soaking wet from the rain. “What the hell are you doing? Get in here!”

You give him zero time to argue with you, or protest about dripping all over Penny’s floor. You’ll mop in the morning.

“You’re fucking crazy!” you hiss, wanting to hit him with the helmet anyway. “What were you thinking? It’s like a hurricane out there! What is wrong with y--”

“I know!” he says back, keeping his voice low. “Lecture me later, sweetheart, I wanted to see you.”

You grit your teeth. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Early,” he says. “We’re leaving as soon as--”

“Shh!” you shove his chest. “Keep your voice down. They’re sleeping, like I should be.”

“You weren’t asleep,” he says, in his same tone, like he knows everything. “I can see the bags under your eyes.”

“What do you really want, Hangman?” You sit your dad’s helmet down on the counter so you can cross your arms over your chest. “You didn’t want to speak to me earlier. So why are you here now?”

His face twists painfully. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I was-- I don’t know why I did what-- Listen, there’s no good way to say this,” he chuckles awkwardly, smiling shyly. “But I have to say it, honey, you know I do.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Y/N,” he whispers.

“Hangman.”

“I love you.”

“Shut up.”

“I know it’s too soon, alright? I know I shouldn’t, and I know what you said. But I can’t help myself, and I wouldn’t be able to leave if I didn’t tell you.”

“Why would you tell me that? Hours before you’re about to leave!”

“Because you drive me crazy, so I thought I’d do it to you for a change!”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, obviously, how much of an asshole do you think I am? Don’t answer that.”

Both of you go quiet, realizing how loud your voices have gotten. You wait a few beats to be sure there’s no movement in the house, that you didn’t wake anyone up with your bickering. But mostly you’re letting Hangman’s words sink in. All of them.

He takes a few steps closer while you’re staring out the window at the pouring rain, chewing the inside of your cheek. You barely register the feeling of his hands engulfing yours. The first thing you notice is his cologne.

“Jake…” You shake your head, looking up at him. “I don’t…”

“I know,” he nods. “I know you don’t feel the same, I just had to say it because--”

“Hey, hey,” you tug on his hands. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

He stares, then quirks an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I don’t know about it being love just yet, but-- I know what I said, and I shouldn’t have said it. I think I said it because I knew I was already too far gone.”

He smirks. “I’m that good, huh?”

“Don’t ruin the moment,” you warn.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He pulls you in closer, wrapping his arms around you. “You know what my next question is gonna be.”

You nod.

“So?” He looks hopeful, a little too excited.

You shake your head. “No.”

He deflates. His arms loosen a little. “Okay.”

You know he’s confused (why wouldn’t he be?), so you place both hands on his face, holding him. “Kiss me when you come back to me.”

“Y/N…”

“Solomon told me this is dangerous,” you say. “So you better be careful.”

“Alright,” he sighs, lacing his fingers together on the small of your back.

“Good,” you nod. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be on the base right now?”

“Not for another hour,” he says. “I was hoping the rain would pass so I don’t have to walk through it again.”

“You-- Never mind. I’ll drive you. Don’t worry about the rain,” you laugh quietly. “What do you want to do for an hour? And don’t say what I know you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” he grins. “But I like the way you think.”

You give him a look.

“Alright, alright,” he says. “Let’s just do this.”

“This?” you question. “We’re just standing.”

“No, I’m holding you in my arms, and we’re talking and listening to the rain. I want to stay like this.”

“Okay,” you smile. “Let’s stay like this.”

You make one small adjustment, and that’s to lay your head on his chest, even though he’s soaking wet. You truly are exhausted, but you don’t want to fall asleep if he’s only here for another hour. You can sleep once he’s gone. It’ll keep you from worrying, anyway.

He rests his chin on the top of your head, closing his eyes. And he says it again, mostly just for himself to hear. “I love you.”

The hour passes far too quickly, and so does the drive back to Top Gun. You actually go on the base this time, not wanting to cut your time with him any shorter than you have to.

Thankfully, the rain has stopped, so you’re able to get out of the car and hug him properly, tightly, before letting him go.

You barely let him get a few steps away before you’re calling out his name. “Jake!”

He turns so quickly he nearly gives himself whiplash. “What is it?” he jogs back to you.

“You forgot something,” you say.

His eyebrows furrow and he begins patting his pockets, checking for his phone, ID, keys. “What did I--?”

You stand on your toes and press a kiss to his cheek, halting his words immediately.

“Well,” he laughs, grinning wildly. “I guess I did.”

“Mhm,” you smile. “Good luck. And be careful.”

“I will,” he says firmly, meaning it this time. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you let it slip out this time, finally getting over yourself. “Go kick some ass.”

“I always do,” he winks. “I’ll be back soon.”

“You better.”

#hoo boy what a ride #this has to be my favorite love confession i've ever written #hangman top gun #gravedigger’s daughter #jake hangman seresin #hangman x fem!reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x fem!reader #jake hangman seresin x you #glen powell

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grippingbeskar · 2 years

Note

Heyy! I saw an ask you posted saying you take fic requests so I thought I’d throw my hat in the ring.

This is a Frank Castle request for a smutty one shot:

Basically Frank and the reader are both hiding out in Micro’s basement and they are already together and while Micro is in another room they start to do the nasty.

Then Micro accidentally walks in and is all, “Gross, guys, c’mon I’m right over here.”

Reader tells him to get out.

And Frank says something along the lines of, “I’m planning to fuck my girl into this mattress either way.”

Micro goes away and they continue.

Very dirty. Very smutty. Maybe a little choking kink if you are comfortable writing that.

Anyway😂😂😂I’m so sorry I let intrusive thoughts win

homewrecker

frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

a/n: omg it’s been so long since i wrote something for frank I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! thankyou so much for ur request i LOVED writing this!!!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Because I’m bored, Frank.” You whine, and he just rolls his eyes, sitting on the other end of the make shift bed. You let your head fall back against the concrete wall, taking stock of your surroundings for the thousandth time today.

You’ve been in here for hours. Literal hours. Usually you can at least walk around the dirty basement Micro set up as his hold, but today you haven’t even been able to do that. The list of people not after you was shorter than the list of people that are, and while Micro works outside, somewhere, trying to get you two off the map, it leaves you with very little options but to sit here and stare at the wall.

At least you had one nice sight in this little room. The mattress hardly fit the both of you, and the walls were cracking and cold, but Frank sat in front of you, shirtless and a little sweaty because he had been trying to work out for at least 20 minutes. Every time he tried, though, you would push his arm, making him fall flat out of a push-up, or kick at his legs while he tried to do chin ups over the frame of the door.

It’s not that you didn’t want him to work out. God, he looked so fucking good when he did, all sweaty and breathing hard. It reminded you of how he looks after you fuck, and the mere thought was just too distracting when your cooped up in this room. So, you resorted to becoming a literal nightmare and ruining every attempt of his, because if you were suffering, you were going to make sure he was too.

“You’re bored, and makin’ me fall on my ass is the way you wanna entertain yourself?” He brushes off the dust on his pants from where you shoved him out of a plank.

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got TV or anything.” You look up at him, trying to compose yourself as he stands. No, more like looks above you, coming around the foot of the mattress on the floor and slowly kneeling next to you.

“Come ‘ere.” He shuffles next to you, wrapping you into his bare chest. He smells like metal and dust, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t look further down, where his sweatpants aren’t hiding anything. Like, at all. “You’re worried. Look, I’ve been through this a hundred times over, I know it’s a lot but Micro’s gonna sort his shit out. We’re gonna get out of here, me and you, and then you can watch all the fuckin’ TV you want.”

“Yeah? Even Love Island?” Frank groans into the top of your head and you laugh. “So much Love Island that I pick up an accent?”

“Fuck me. Whatever you wanna do, princess.” His arm tightens and you look up, still averting your gaze from his pants. Frank and you have been together for a while now, and in literally any other situation you would have wasted the hours with him inside you, going slow and steady until both of you couldn’t think about time. You had spent a lot of hidden nights like that, but you know Micro was right outside.

The walls were concrete, but the door was flimsy. It was meant to look like part of the wall, so you could easily blend into the background. You didn’t even know there was a door there until Micro shoved you both into it when you arrived, needing you both to hide yourselves from the FBI agents he was sure were watching him.

That was three hours ago. Maybe he had left? Surely enough time had passed, and you had been so patient. You hadn’t so much as kissed Frank since Micro locked you in here - you were trying to be good. Respect his place. And a part of you didn’t really want anyone hearing the way you were with Frank - it would totally ruin your bad ass reputation.

Frank was the deciding factor, though. He hooked a finger under your chin, bringing your face up to his so he could kiss you. It was soft and soothing. He knew how scared you were, even if you didn’t admit it, and if he could do something to take your mind off it, you knew he would.

He tried to move underneath you to get a better angle, but you turned your face and looked towards the door.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was low, like he had just woken up.

“Micro is outside.” Frank just shrugs and kisses you again, and it takes all your self control to pull away again, although not too far so you could still keep your hands on him. “Frank.”

“Fuck ‘im. He’s probably not even there.” He pulls you back, and you let him flip you over on the mattress. His mouth moves across your throat, leaving a trail of wet kisses down to your collarbone.

“Frank - we can’t just-“ He looks up at you, and the sight makes you want to strip him down right there and then.

“You don’t wanna - that’s okay, baby. We can do whatever -“

“Fuck, Frank! I do, I really fucking do.” The smile that grows on his face is impossible to resist, and he starts to pull your shirt up, laying kisses along your tummy and working his way up to your sternum, stripping your shirt off over your head. “But Micro-“

“I can feel how fuckin’ wet you are, baby. You don’t really care about that, do you?” His hand hardly touches you, just skims over your leggings which are very clearly tainted with the evidence of how right he is. You fight under him as his hand grips your upper thigh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He pulls your pants down with zero hesitation, hands running wildly over your now exposed body. He has no aim, just lets his hands wander all over your curves, gripping your hips and settling on their place, sliding you further down the mattress and closer to him.

“He can’t hear us, i-okay?” Frank isn’t listening, thoughts lost in how he now has his fingers hooked under your panties, dragging them slowly down your legs. He smiles at how easily you caved in, lifting your legs so he can throw your underwear off. You lean up on your forearms and spread your legs on instinct.

“Christ, princess. So pretty, always so pretty.” He slides in between your legs, his bare torso connecting with your dripping pussy, making you whine into his mouth when he kisses you. “Can’t hear us, okay?”

Frank mocks as you struggle to contain your noises. He slides a hand between your bodies and without another second for you to catch your breath, his finger spreads you open and dives into you.

“Oh, fuck Frankie.” You try to whisper, and he moans at the nickname, grinding his hips down into the mattress. His finger works you slowly, a wave of pleasure making your whole body shudder. You pick your legs up and start to slide his pants down, secretly grateful he wore sweats. Easier to take off.

“So greedy. This why you were being such a pain in my ass? Huh?” You just nod, and the heel of his palm begins to rub against your clit while he adds another finger.

The sensation is too much, but you almost cry out when his free hand comes up around your throat. He was kneeling now to keep himself upright, fucking you with his hand so fast you were almost sure someone would be able to hear it.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it princess?”

“Yes, Frankie! Oh fuck s’good - t’s so good fuc-“ You are cut off when his hand wraps around your throat, only allowing about half of your normal breathing to break through his hold. Your eyes start to roll back in your head from pleasure, and you can feel your legs begin to shake in the angle Frank was bending you at.

“There’s a good girl. Taking what I give her.” You tried to swallow, and his hand only just shifted to allow it, and you nodded desperately. “Doesn’t matter who was around, you’d still take it wouldn’t you? If I asked all nice?”

“Whatever you w-want I swear-“ He kisses you, his tongue sliding into your mouth, and before you squeeze your eyes shut you can see how hard his face is screwed up, clearly holding back until you were ready for him. He lets you suck in a breath, and you use the chance to choke out a final plea. “Gonna cum, Frankie.”

“Good, baby. Go on then, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you scream.” The words have you almost panic - you don’t think you can control the sounds coming from you now, he had you to wired. You tried to turn your face into the pillow to muffle yourself, but one finger had enough strength to hold your face to his.

“Fra- can’t please, s’too l-loud.” Trying to whisper, but Franks smirk told you he didn’t give a shit.

“You’re fine, baby. Let me hear it.” His eyes are so wide, and looking up at you through his lashes. It’s the last thing you need to fall off that edge, and no pillow over your face would stop the borderline pornographic noises that echoed against the concrete walls. “Sound so perfect.”

Frank was holding you down as the orgasm wracked through your body, leaving you spinning. You could only tell what way was up when Frank started kissing you again, and you practically shot off the mattress when the head of his cock slid over your clit, coating him in the evidence.

“You good, princess?” His large hand began to unwrap from around your throat, and he kissed the faint lines his hand made as you whimpered in approval.

“Always.” Your eyes fluttered open and he hung over your face, kissing your nose, and then both your cheeks. Your hand ran down his chest, taking your time until you finally reached his aching cock, shifting underneath him so he could slide in easier.

“You sure? What about-“ It was you kissing him now to shut him up, and you just shook your head.

“Fuck him. Probably not even there.” You mumbled into his mouth and he laughed, bringing both of your hands up over your head, and holding them in one of his own.

“That’s my girl.” He moves up, and you can feel him pressing against you. He’s still holding your hands above your head, and you can do nothing but wait patiently. His free hand runs slow strokes over his cock, and he watched your reaction as he lets your hips roll against him, trying to control himself as well as make you work a little bit.

You were positive he was about to fuck you - fuck you like he did when you were in that motel for three weeks. Slow, hard, holding you down so you didn’t have to do anything but feel him, feel how good he makes you feel. He was so close, you could feel the very tip of him beginning to stretch you out, and you bit your lip in anticipation until -

“What the fuck is wrong with you people!?” Micro bangs in the door, and with how clearly you can hear him, you know he heard everything you and Frank just did. And said. Oh god- “If I come in there and I see Franks bare ass-“

“Don’t open that fuckin’ door.” Frank growls, his abs tensing from holding himself still. You wiggle your hips and his head snaps back to you, a look of slight confusion until he sees your face, screwed up and desperate. “You are gonna fuckin’ kill me, princess.”

“Put your fucking clothes on! That is my only mattress you fucking perverts!” Frank no longer cares about how close Micro is to coming in. He’s the only one with a key to the door. He could open it at any second -

Frank slowly slides into you, both of you trying to cover relived moans of each others names as he bottoms out, hitting the deepest part of you that nearly has tears coming from your eyes.

“Fuck off!” You yell, but it doesn’t come out as demanding as you want it to. Franks hand tightens around your wrists, and he sucks in a deep breath before beginning to pull out of you, so fucking slow.

“Jesus christ.” Micro mutters clearly through the thin walls. Frank hears the lock start to turn on the door, and even you are a little intimidated when he growls out a threat.

“I’m fuckin’ my girl here either way. You come in here and see something you shouldn’t, and you’re gonna lose your head.” He never looks away from you, sliding slowly, carefully back inside of you and stilling. The anger of his threat and the tone of his voice is no indication of how he’s fucking you, so gentle and sweet. He presses another kiss to your nose, and smirks when he hears the lock click back into place.

“Fine! I’m leaving. Not like I was saving your asses out here. Whatever, I’m taking your fucking car.” Micro is pissed - and he should be, you would if the two people you had spent hours trying to sort out were currently fucking on the only mattress you owned. But you didn’t fucking care - about anything but Frank and how he was slowly getting faster now that he had heard Micro leave.

“Fuck, faster baby, please.” You moan and he answers by doing exactly as you say, hitting you so hard you start to sink into the mattress.

“Want it faster? Make the whole building hear you?” You tried to speak but just whined out a jumble of words, nothing making sense in your head except for ‘please’ and ‘fuck’. “Yeah, that’s it. They can hear, but only I get to watch. No one else.”

“No one else, Frank.” He hums against your skin, and you don’t hold back letting him hear how fucking good it feels. You don’t know why you were holding yourself back from him before - fuck everyone else, nothing was worth missing out on this. This, being with him here even in this shitty little room with no TV and cracked walls. It didn’t matter as long as you were both safe.

“So fuckin’ tight. Always s-” He lost his words as you kissed him, both of you melting into the moment together. He stopped trying to hold himself up, relaxed his back and dropped half of his weight on you, the feeling of him against you sending you into overdrive.

He knew you were close, because you always squeezed your eyes shut tight and made these short, sweet sounds that he always told you he loved to hear. He kept the same pace, knowing as soon as you finished, watching you come undone underneath him would be his final straw.

“God, Frank I love you so much. M’gonna fucking cum, baby.” He dropped his forehead onto your shoulder, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat again. Fuck - he knew you so well.

“Sound so pretty, princess. Want you to come all over this fucking mattress. Feel so good, christ.” You scream his name as best you can, a strangled cry coming out as he tightens his hand around your throat. You come, the concrete roof fading into stars and spots as you lose oxygen. It makes everything feel urgent and intense, and Frank’s come is already beginning to seep out of you as you ride him through your high.

“Oh fuuu-ck.” He groans into your neck as he slowly starts to pull out of you. You aren’t ready for the loss of him, and he soothes you with sweet kisses along your jaw and cheek, wrapping you up into the poor excuse of a sheet and pulling you close. Your vision starts to come back to you, and you focus on the deep breaths of Frank behind you, the hot air on the back on your neck. You can imagine how he looks right now, and smile knowing you were the cause.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss just below.

“I love you more.” You can feel his smile against your skin.

“Mm.” He wraps you closer, and almost seems to fall asleep, his breathing evening out and his arms relaxing around you. It surprises you when he speaks again, and you have to tear your eyes open. “We have to buy a new mattress.”

“Fuck. We do. Maybe we should make dinner, too.” Frank doesn’t say anything, just huffs a breath and you laugh. “He’s gonna be so mad.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll handle him.”

“We should probably put some clothes on.” As much as you love how you both are right now, Micro will probably be back any minute.

“I fuckin’ hate this. We- You shouldn’t have to-” You turn around in his hold to face him, and kiss him on the jaw.

“Shh. Soon, we’re gonna have our own place, our own bed, and we won’t have to wear clothes, like ever.” He shivers slightly and closes his eyes like he can picture it. “Soon, okay?”

“I know, I just hate that you gotta do all this shit, deal with him-”

“He is helping us. We will have all the time in the world when we get out of here. We just have to get out of here.” Frank kisses you, his hand coming up to hold your face. You love it when he kisses you like that, because his hand nearly takes up your whole face and you can completely disappear in his hold.

“How did this turn in to you calmin’ me down, huh?” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Im just trying to soften you up so we can watch Love Island later.” He groans and his shoulders slump forward, rolling you off the mattress where you start getting dressed.

Eventually you tear yourselves out of the room to make dinner, and as pissed as Micro is when he comes back, the promise of a new mattress and incredible dinner Frank ended up cooking was enough to make it up to him. As you were going through to the kitchen, you looked back at the little slot in the wall where the door is, and you smiled. To think a few hours ago, you were begging to get out of that room - and now it was the closest thing to home you had.

You were pretty sure, though, looking at Frank spread out on the make shift couch trying to tune the TV so you could watch the newest episode of your shitty TV show, that you could make a home anywhere, as long as it was with him.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #the punisher x oc #the punisher x y/n #the punisher smut #Marvel TV

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streamafterlaughter · 2 years

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a/n: this is my first time posting a fic please be kind! and please please please let me know ur thoughts! also apologies for any formatting issues i am posting from my phone. 🦇🎸

Still Loving You

gif: here

summary: You’ve been teaching yourself a new song on guitar to show Eddie once he graduates. You usually tutor him after Hellfire Club, but today Eddie’s back early, catching you with his guitar, and thereby soiling your plans for dramatic confession.

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader, friends to lovers, gn!reader

warnings/tags: there will be smut in part ii, but this one is rated pg13! lots of cute fluff here<3 mutual pining. no spoilers just normal human stuff. reader has graduated Hawkins in 84, making them over 18

word count: 4.12k

Part I: Caught In The Act

The sticky heat of Hawkins clings tightly onto you as you pedal your way to Eddie’s, just like you’d done every Thursday, since the beginning of the year. Eddie had informally hired you as his personal tutor, finally getting sick of repeating senior year. He made promises of free joints and rides around town for the rest of your lives, and made a big dramatic show of getting on his knees to beg you to help him. Anything to convince you to take him on as your student.

Of course you agreed, but you didn’t tell him you would have done it for a can of soda and a singular movie night, maybe even less. Though you and Eddie have been friends since middle school, you still haven’t gotten around to telling him the whole truth: that you had fully fallen in love with him.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, you’d started crushing on him in freshman year, just like every kid falls in love with their best friend the second they both hit puberty. You had never gained your footing, though, fearing his rejection any time you pondered maybe flirting with him. Instead, you remained the best of friends, and you believed that was enough for you.

Throughout high school you both dated other people, and by the time you graduated in ‘84, you had convinced yourself the schoolhouse crush had passed. So, of course, you’d said, you’ll tutor him.

However, spending all this time with Eddie, both tutoring him and just existing near him, you realize you can’t keep this shit under wraps for much longer.

Eddie always left the door unlocked for you on Thursdays, knowing you’d be out of work before Hellfire ended, and probably wouldn’t feel like biking home just to bike another 20 minutes back to his place. You preferred studying at Eddie’s to your own house, a quiet refuge contrasting your own noisy, tense household. You also secretly loved that his room always smelled like weed, mixed with whatever cheap cologne he was using.

You let yourself in, and help yourself to a Red Stripe in the fridge. You can’t help but wonder how many others have done this before you, and how many of them intended on becoming more than study partners with Eddie. You let yourself feel jealous for a second, before remembering that, whatever he was doing before, and whoever he’d done it with, it had absolutely nothing to do with you. You were the one waiting for him now, and you let yourself find comfort in that.

You walk to his room and kick your shoes off, desperately needing to let your socked feet breathe. The air is still stiflingly hot, so you remove your t-shirt, leaving on a black tank top to stick to your sweaty skin. You figure you have a good hour or two of practice time before Eddie’s home from Hellfire, so you begin your slow approach to the far wall, where his instrument rests in front of Eddie’s only mirror.

“Hey, pretty,” you greet the guitar, admiring her gently with your fingertips. Eddie doesn’t let anyone touch his guitar, let alone play it, let alone an amateur like you: someone only really able to play acoustic songs for your family on camping trips. You know you’re going against every instinct in your body telling you it’s a horrible idea. You make a whispered promise to her, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You only plan to play it once, get as much practice in as you can, then put it exactly where it was, and he would never know! Or, he would definitely know, but he wouldn’t have any proof, and would be completely unable to pin the blame on you.

You are as careful with the instrument as you would be with a newborn baby, one hand gripped tightly enough around the neck while the other caresses the body, you walk slowly so as not to bump her into any surrounding knick knacks. You take your place at the foot of Eddie’s bed, your back facing the bedroom door. The amp buzzes as you plug the guitar in, and you reach for your walkman to analyze the song you’ve been practicing.

——————

Eddie is sprinting to his van, in a blind fury to get back home as soon as the bell rings. He’s just been given his grade back for the English final, and he’s finally passed, and with an impressive C-! He could only think about getting back to his house, coming home to you waiting for him on the couch, and shoving the graded paper at you with a feral excitement. He wanted so badly to thank you, for saving his stupid ass from another year of Hawkins Hell.

“MUNSON!” Dustin Henderson is running toward Eddie’s car, a dumbfounded look on his face that says, “Where the fuck do your think you’re going?”

“I passed! Henderson, I PASSED! I have to postpone, I have places to be, and a beautiful knight to thank for rescuing me!” He’s talking with his arms, flailing his crown jewel of a grade in his hand.

“Can’t you thank them after we kick your sorry ass?” Dustin was a dedicated member of Hellfire, seeing each meeting as a chance to humble his newest best friend.

“Sorry, dude, this isn’t something I can just wait to do.” What Eddie wasn’t telling Dustin, was that he finally planned to tell you how he felt. He didn’t want to risk losing his tutor to an awkward rejection, so to save both of you the trouble he’d decided to wait until he was positive he’d never have to be tutored again.

Dustin, despite his annoyance, gives Eddie a knowing smile. He’d seen the way Eddie acted around you, on the rare occasion you’d come to ride home with them.

“Right. Well, tell your pretty knight I’m pissed.” Dustin snaps, turning on his heel to stomp off to inform the party their Dungeon Master was too love drunk to play tonight.

Eddie jokingly salutes to Dustin’s turned back, and eagerly climbs into his driver’s seat, barely pausing to turn the radio on before peeling out of the school parking lot.

—-

You’re making decent progress, finally figuring out how to sing while playing, without pausing between chords. It’s not perfect, but it’s better, and you’ve gotten yourself in the zone. You look at the clock, which reads 3. Hellfire isn’t out until 5 tonight. You can afford a little more time, you tell yourself.

As you play through the chorus again, you drown out the background noise of Forest Hills. What you can’t hear over the noises of your clumsy strumming, is the gravel under Eddie’s van as he pulls up to his home a mere thirty minutes later. He whips himself out of the car, getting his foot caught on the pedals on his way out. After almost eating shit, his good mood still can’t be ruined. That is, until he reaches the top step of his trailer and pauses.

Leaning his ear to the screen door, he makes out the hum of his amp. His amp, plugged into his guitar.

“No fucking way.” He whispers, letting himself into the front room as quietly as he can manage. All his previous chaos has left his body, as he tiptoes his way toward the sound of what he can tell is barely acceptable guitar playing.

He reaches his room, stopping abruptly to take in the view in front of him: Your back turned to him, hunched over his most prized possession. He sees the headphones resting on your ears, your neck tilted in concentration trying to figure out the next set of chords, sweat dripping down the side of your face, slowly melting from the early June heat.

Eddie leans himself on the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest, just to take you in. By now, he usually would have sent the culprit flying through the window, exilling them for all eternity. But he couldn’t bring himself to do that to you, he had no desire to distract from your concentration.

You stop once you finish the song, and immediately freeze. The air in Eddie’s room has shifted. No, you think, there is no way he’s already home.

You look at the clock next to Eddie’s bed that now reads 3:45.

You slowly rotate your body towards the bedroom door, catching the figure there in the corner of your eye before the pieces click into place.

Finally, you bring your eyes up to meet his, and the motherfucker is smirking at you.

“I-“

He cuts you off with a dramatic wave of his arm, exclaiming, “You come into my home, you sit on my throne, you play my instrument, and you don’t even try to hide it? You know, honey, that usually calls for banishment.” He’s approaching you now, slowly planting one foot in front of the other, as if to build suspense.

“Shit, Eddie, no, you don’t understand. It was a one time thing-“ you’re preparing to beg for his forgiveness, unable to imagine the anger he must be feeling towards you. Why the fuck is he home so early?

“Sh sh sh,” He kneels on the floor next to your spot on the bed. “Instead, I will make you earn your honor back. You must play his instrument for the master himself.” His smirk shifts into a toothy grin, knowing how shy you get in the face of performing, speaking, or really doing anything in front of other people. He has no idea that fear only applies to him.

Your eyes widen with fear, “It isn’t ready, that's not fair!” you falter, suddenly unsure if you were ever really going to play the song for him. Who were you kidding anyway, someone that didn’t even own their own guitar trying to play for Eddie, of all people.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his eyes not leaving yours. “All fairness went out the window when you played with my baby before asking, sweetheart.” He grips your thigh tightly, his intention clear: You’re not going anywhere until you play for him.

You take the deepest breath you’ve ever taken, and it does nothing to calm your nerves. This isn’t how you wanted to play this song for him. Your plan was to play it after he graduated, when he finally threw his cap to the sky and said good riddance to the worst six years of his life. Selfishly, you wanted to wait for him to graduate just in case he felt the same way you did. You didn’t want to cause him distraction from his work, just in case you might prove yourself to be one. Maybe it was slightly delusional, but you liked to daydream.

The other reason for waiting was in case he denied you. You didn’t want to think about it, but you always knew there’d be a chance of rejection, something you weren’t sure you could handle. He didn’t exactly go for people like you, people with their noses in big books, or scribbling in a journal during lunch, their headphones blocking everyone and everything else out. You keep to yourself, and Eddie is known as the life of every nerd friendly party, every lunchtime discussion, and every drive in his van. It’s the strongest reason you’d found yourself infatuated: his ability to exist purely as himself.

Your fingers move towards the first chord of the song, and you close your eyes as if to trick yourself into thinking none of this is happening. You’re not really about to make the biggest fool of yourself in front of the one person whose opinions matter most to you. As long as you don’t look at him, none of this is real.

You make it through the intro with little error, and your breath catches in your throat as you start to sing:

Time

It needs time

To win back your love again

I will be there

You don’t dare to open your eyes, but you feel Eddie’s big, brown ones boring into your face and soul as you play.

Love

Only love

Can bring back your love someday.

I will be there,

I will be there.

You pause, as if to silently beg to stop. Eddie only squeezes your leg again, a nudge to keep going. You still can’t look at him.

I’ll fight, babe, I’ll fight

To win back your love again

I will be there, I will be there.

Love, only love

Can break down the wall someday

I will be there, I will be there.

You pause again, opening your eyes to reposition your fingers for the chorus. Eddie doesn’t interrupt as you do, but you can feel his eyes on your hand.

As you sing the chorus, still far too quietly to be any good, he starts to hum along, his voice a whisper above your own.

If we’d go again

All the way from the start

I would try to change

The things that killed our love

Your pride has built a wall, so strong

That I can’t get through

Is there really no chance

To start once again

I’m still loving you…

You both continue like that, you not looking at him while his eyes are trained on you. By the end of the song, your throat aches and your fingers are cramped. You brace for the impact of Eddie’s teasing, or worse, his anger and immediate removal of you from his life.

Neither comes. You dare to open one eye, trying to gauge his reaction by the bewildered look on his face. A third, unexpected reaction: a gaping look at you, only broken by a couple bats of his eyelids.

“I… did not see that coming.”

“I did tell you it wasn’t ready,” You try to change the subject, terrified of the way you strangle back a sob. This is not the way you planned to be rejected. You weren’t mentally ready for that destruction yet.

“No, that’s not-“ He falters, visibly searching for the right thing to say. He pushes himself to his feet, pacing in front of you, still sitting cross legged on his bed.

“Why that one?” He asks, innocently.

You search for your words on the floor, Because I fell madly in love with you. Because I wanted to impress you. Because I couldn’t think of a better way to tell you this with my own words. Because ever since freshman year I would fantasize about pulling you into the teacher’s lounge.

“Well,” you start finally, talking to the chipped polish of your nails, “I found the tape in your van, and the case looked really, um, well used, I guess. So I wanted to see what made you like it so much. This song reminded me of… well you. Us… whatever.” You try to brush it off, but the truth is you’d been planning this gift for him since you started tutoring him. Usually, you’d use your roommate’s guitar to practice, but she’d gone home for the summer, and you couldn’t afford your own instrument.

“I never wanted you to find out this way,” your words were rushing out now, desperate to bandage the trust you were sure you’d broken, “But I can’t stop fucking thinking about you. I think about you all the fucking time. Why do you think I said yes to helping you? WhyI’m always here, regardless of whether we end up studying? It’s all been for you, Eddie.” You finally blurt. It hangs in the air, like an unwelcome ghost. “I will accept my banishment with grace and honor.” you proclaim, defeated, still refusing to look at him.

Eddie waits a beat, digesting your response before saying, “Why would I banish you?” he sounds wounded, taking offense that you’d dare speak such a thing.

Your head snaps up then, searching for a give away that he’s being sarcastic. Because of course you would, you think, because you don’t feel the same way.

“You’ve done worse. I saw the way you iced Dustin for a week because he stole your Dungeon Master’s journal.”

“That was under different circumstances.” Eddie returns matter-of-factly, like it’s the most logical argument in the world. “Why would you put all this time into learning a song before you could even know if I’d graduate?” He’s challenging you now, trying to get you to admit something. And you’re so close to admitting something.

You puff your cheeks full of air before letting go a heavy sigh. “I believed in you. And maybe, selfishly, I believed you’d want me, too.” You shrug, then retort, “Well, what makes me different from Dustin? We both touched things we knew we weren’t allowed to touch, things that belong to you.” You wonder if your feelings should be hurt. Maybe he doesn’t value you enough to hold you to the same rules as his closest friends.

“You make you different, silly. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” He waves his hand dismissively, as if your hands on his guitar were just a normal, every day occurrence. “And it’s more fun to freak you out.” He pivots toward you, pointing to the instrument. “Can I help you?” He asks, suddenly enthusiastic.

“What?” Not only is he not pissed, or even indifferent, but he's offering to help you? To teach you the very thing that attracted you to him in the first place?

You weigh your options: One, you say no, and hurt Eddie’s feelings enough to actually “banish” you, whatever that may mean to him; or two, you agree and he tries to help you, only to grow impatient with your struggling and give up. You don’t like either choice, so you stall.

“Why are you home so early?” You dodge. In all your embarrassment, you’d forgotten to ask what was so important for him to call Hellfire off for the night. Anyone that knew Eddie knew almost nothing came between him and his DnD campaigns.

“If I tell you, would you please let me help you with this?” He circles his hand around your being as you sit awkwardly, his guitar still in your grasp. “Your fingering could use some work. I happen to be an expert, I could give you a few tips.” He wiggles the fingers of his left hand, his rings glittering when they hit the light. The thought of his hands has kept you up before, but there was something way too real about them now.

“Fine.” You huff, ignoring the double entendre, and therefore the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Great!” Eddie claps his hands together, and bends to pick up his graded assignment he’d let fall to the ground only minutes earlier. He pinches the paper between his thumb and pointer, flicking the back of the page as he does so. “C-, baby!” he beams, shoving the paper closer to your face. “I couldn’t wait to tell you, so I told the kids to kick rocks today. Henderson’s not letting me hear the end of it anytime soon.” He shakes his head jokingly, like a shamed puppy caught ripping the good pillows apart.

“You canceled Hellfire, the one thing I have ever seen you care about, to come tell your tutor that you passed?” You’re dumbfounded.

Eddie only shrugs, “Yeah, obviously, I wanted to make my teach proud. Now let me help you with this mess.” He doesn’t mean any harm by his comment, only that he wants to help you learn. You go to scoot over, making room for Eddie to sit next to you on the mattress.

Eddie, however, completely ignores this gesture, leaving you with the guitar in your lap. Instead, he kicks a leg behind you, leaving the other resting against yours. You are now sitting between his legs, and he places his chin to rest on your shoulder.

You forget to breathe. You and Eddie, though close friends since middle school, have never been so physical before. Sure, you’d held hands, skipping to classes together as the Hawkins Nuisances, and you had played enough footsie in math class to pass the time. But you’d never sat like this, so close to feel his heart beating on your back.

Ignoring your obviously tense body language, Eddie places his hand over yours, gently moving it to the first position of the song. “Press this string down a little harder.” He mumbles into your neck, sending a chill down your spine as he demonstrates, pressing his middle finger into the fret. You move your own hand to where his sits, and repeat his movements. You feel him smile into the dip of your shoulder, proud of your tiny improvement.

You work through the first verse this way, with Eddie only speaking to give you instructions on positioning your fingers, or which strings to strum. You wouldn’t mind if you spent the rest of your night like this, in a comfortable silence only broken by the clumsy melody of a Scorpions ballad.

Eddie pauses, though, just as you’ve finished the first chorus. In one swift motion, he drags the guitar off of you, placing it beside him at the end of the bed. The loss of contact saddens you, as you realize this may be the last time Eddie ever lets you touch the guitar. To stifle your sadness, you go to get yourself off of him, trying to hide how much you don’t want to move. You’re caught off guard, though, when Eddie shoves his arms out and grabs you by the waist, pulling you back into his lap and lacing his fingers across your middle, keeping you there.

He cups his hand under your chin, forcing you to twist to face him, and you can barely look at him. You think you catch his eyes dart to your lips, but you can’t be sure. Your brain is too fuzzy, being so close to Eddie’s face, feeling his breath on yours to think clearly. You never thought you’d get even this far with him.

Before you gather enough courage to speak, Eddie’s asking, “You mean all that?”

You raise your eyebrow at him, because how dare he question your sincerity. “Of course I mean it. Eddie, I know you have a little trouble with critical thinking, but did you really have absolutely no clue?” You’re laughing now, dumbfounded at your best friend’s ignorance. “I thought I was rather readable.”

“To be fair, it’s not like you knew either.” Eddie isn’t laughing, not a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “You’d think an English tutor would be able to see the evidence laid out in front of them.”

You play stupid, refusing to believe any of what he’s claiming. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he glances down at your mouth again, and this time you’re sure of it. You have no time to react before he’s pulling your face in, his hand still holding your chin. His lips meet yours, tenderly at first, and your face catches fire as you kiss him back. The kiss ends as suddenly as it started, and Eddie pulls his face back to look at you again.

“That’s what I mean.” and he’s kissing you again. you don’t let yourself hold back this time. You break the kiss briefly, only to turn your body around to face him, now straddling his lap. You hold his face in your hands to kiss him again, coaxing his mouth open with your tongue. He pushes back eagerly, his hands gripping tightly onto your waist to hold you in place. Your head starts swimming, unable to fully grasp what you've gotten yourself into. He tastes like cigarettes and mint, and you never want to forget the way his tongue feels against your own.

One of Eddie’s hands moves from your waist, up your back, and cups your neck, as if he’s trying to pull you even closer. Your fingers lace through his hair easily, your nights spent dreaming about it having finally paid off. You feel Eddie smile into your kiss, his arms now wrapped around you tightly. You can’t help but smile too, trying to show him exactly how you’d been feeling this last seemingly endless year.

“Was it worth postponing?” you ask, breaking the kiss for air.

“I would rather never return to Hellfire again if it meant I could spend all of my time doing this instead.” he looks at you longingly, and you truly believe him. “No one’s ever done that for me before.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes before connecting your lips to his for a third time.

Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fan fiction #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x you #fluff #angst #personal #willow writes sins #i will have part two up as soon as u guys want it #it’s all written and mostly edited #if u like this one pls tell me!

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purplesurveys · 2 years

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1567

Have you ever accidentally sent the wrong smiley? ;) Ugh, yeah. What made it more embarrassing is that it was a typo for a work-related text; I was speaking with a big influencer. I meant to finish my message with a smiley face, but for whatever reason my fingers slipped and I ended up pressing the fucking green-faced barfing emoji. And since it was the last part of my text I went ahead and clicked Send the same time I discovered the error hahaha.

Are you more likely to go drive-thru or actually walk in to get fast food? Neither...food delivery is my go-to, especially for fast food. I haven’t stepped foot inside a fast food establishment in months; and I usually avoid drive-thru since they rarely have cashless options.

How many times have you had a nosebleed? I’ve never had one, actually.

If you were to make a lot of noise right now, would you wake anyone up? It would make everyone in this establishment stare and possibly be annoyed; but no, no one would wake up because everyone here is awake.

Do you need to have a shower right now? Yeah, I do. My last one was yesterday morning and I don’t exactly feel 100% anymore considering how humid it’s been.

How many vowels are in your middle name? My legal middle name has one vowel, but it shows up twice.

Do you have all of the vowels in your full name? Nope.

Are you currently crushing on anyone? Just near-delusional crushes on celebrities I have zero chances with, but otherwise no.

How do you feel right now? I’m fine; a little cold. I also suspect a bit of palpitation coming through tonight because I’ve just ordered a venti.

Do you talk in your sleep that you know of? Nah. When I do things in my sleep I actually end up waking myself up most of the time hahaha, and I’ve never caught myself talking mid-sleep.

Have you ever been on a road trip of more than 10 hours? Ugh, yes. Longest roadtrip we’ve had was the one headed to Sagada; that was about 15 hours, if I’m not mistaken.

Are you waiting for anything right now? My sister replying to a question I just sent her on Messenger.

How far away is the nearest KFC? Like, 3 minutes. There’s a mall really close by that if you drive going there you wouldn’t even be able to finish a song.

Do you use reusable bags when you go grocery shopping? No. I keep forgetting that’s an option since I rarely go to the grocery anyway.

Have you ever met someone online and then met them in person? Yes! I’ve met Jila and Rafie once. Javi too but we don’t talk about that ass.

Do you tend to wake up in a different position you fell asleep in? Barely. I’m usually still on the same side, or even almost the same position. What does your perfume or cologne smell like? A bit on the fruity side.

Is there a bookshelf in your bedroom? No. The top of my closet is what serves as my ‘bookshelf,’ hahaha.

Have you ever seen Flight of the Conchords? No, I don’t think I’ve heard of that.

How many hours away is the next sunset? ...20 minutes ago.

What was the last flavour of ice cream you ate? Cookies and cream.

Do you want to move out of your current house any time soon? Why or why not? I’d love to live on my own, definitely! I’ve never tried it before and I’m actually pretty envious of my younger sister because she’s been able to live alone (i.e. in a dorm back when she was in college) even before me, lol. I’d love to know how I’d fare, how I’d decide things on my own, all that; but I’m also not in a rush and I also know to be realistic about my situation. I know for a fact that with my current salary I wouldn’t last a month out there, so I’m taking my time and just trying to reach a place where I can finally afford to sustain myself.

Are there a lot of noisy birds around your house? Not really birds, but the frogs and crickets can definitely get loud at night.

Have you been to a fancy restaurant in the past year? Yeah, a few times.

How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? Yeah, I never learned.

Do you follow recipes carefully or just skim over quickly? Well if I ever have to do one I have to follow every step really carefully, because I can’t cook or bake in the first place and am completely clueless in the kitchen.

What colour are your favourite cousin's eyes? Dark brown.

Have you ever nearly fallen asleep behind the wheel of a car? Nearly, yes. It was when I was headed home from Nasugbu after a day trip to the beach. Wading in the water does a fantastic job of making you feel sleepy – so add that sensation + the road trip going home that had horrible traffic all throughout, and you’ve got me trying to fight off sleep the entire time. Are you hungry right now? Nah I’m pretty full actually. The pastry I had at Starbucks earlier was heavy.

Do bugs bother you or not? Yes. Not a fan. When was the last time you played a board game? Who did you play with? The last anything I remember playing was a card drinking game and that was like, October last year.

Don't you hate having to call banks and insurance companies? Only because I sometimes develop phone anxiety; otherwise I just want whatever issue I have solved so I go ahead and make the call anyway.

Do you know anyone named Harley? Yes, I work with one. Really nice dude!

Are there any dints or scratches on your car? Yes, I have a pretty noticeable one at the back right part of my car – I got it from one of the first few times I started driving on my own, heh. I braked a little too harshly and abruptly, so car behind me hit me.

Weirdly enough there is also one on the front right part, near my headlight; I’ve never been in an incident that would cause a dent there and for the longest time I’ve been suspecting that it’s probably a hit-and-run that happened while I was away.

What's your favourite place to shop for bras and underwear? Online shops here and there. I don’t have a preferred brand.

Have you ever thrown someone's stuff away on purpose? Yeah I had a major throwing-out for all my ex’s stuff last year. Funny you ask this too because this morning I also just caught a few more remaining clothes that she bought me that are still in my closet. Already put that crap in a paper bag ready to be discarded tonight.

Do you have any cool or cute keychains? Yes, I have a couple of the most adorable Tata keychains hanging alongside my car keys/house key.

Is your mailing address different than your residential address? No.

Are there any farms near your house? What animals do they have? No farms nearby but I do know I have a neighbor that keeps chickens.

Do you ever write in cursive? Barely anymore, but I do still practice cursive on scratch paper whenever I can just so I don’t get rusty.

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thenomadinside · 9 years

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Welcome to Atlanta: Definitely in the South

Back in mid-January, I made a spontaneous last minute decision to visit a close friend in Atlanta, GA. This long-awaited excursion down to the South had been an ongoing discussion amongst my friend group for approximately two years but it all never amounted to anything except talk and speculation! Our musing had dragged on two years too long but in the end, I’m glad that we were finally about to make this trip a reality.

We decided to only spend a long weekend there, so not a whole lot of time to explore but just enough to get a taste of the South. I find it truly a fascinating idea to be able to visit an entirely different geographic location within the span of just a weekend. As I’m currently in my senior year, I have been wondering about how to maintain a balance of work and play once entering the dreaded territory we all acknowledge as “the real world.” It’s probably unrealistic to believe that one can do these sort of weekend trips, but hey I can dream right?

As this was my first time flying to the South, I really had no idea what to expect, which was in a way sort of thrilling. Immediately after landing and stepping into the Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta Airport, I was struck with the permeating smell of fried chicken.

The first thought that came across my mind was, “Oh, I’m most definitely in the South.”

Seriously, the entire airport smelled like greasy, fried chicken heaven. I would never have expected it but the Atlanta Airport is mad huge and it took what seemed like forever just to get from my terminal to the other end of the airport. I purchased a “Breeze” card which is what people here use to get around and took the Marta, a local train that I kept mistaking for “Martha” to the North Avenue Station.

After getting off the train, I was able to take a stroll around the campus, soak up Georgia in all its beauty and meet up with my friend. What I love about Georgia is the colors from the sky—everything looks as if it has a pink/peach hue filter overlaid on top of it. Is this also another reason why Georgia’s namesake is the peach?

https://i0.wp.com/www.thenomadinside.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/Screen-Shot-2020-06-18-at-10.42.16-PM.png?w=1310&ssl=1

Conveniently enough, located right next to the World of Coca-Cola was our next expedition—the Georgia Aquarium. The Aquarium was super spacious (at least comparatively to the Boston Aquarium I went to last week with some friends) that contained a wide variety of creatures I haven’t seen elsewhere. I spent maybe way too much time intently observing penguins waddling around and ruffling their feathers. There is something so therapeutic about browsing through an Aquarium, possibly because everything is filtered in a cool blue hue. As Tom Ockerse always says, blue is the most pleasing and relaxing color. I also was able to see a Beluga whale for the first time. I swear I made eye contact with one for a hot second.

The rest of the trip primarily included exploring the campus, learning about the pros and cons to Georgia, eating a sinful amount of unhealthy Southern food, drinking, playing card games, and a surprise celebration for my birthday! The morning my friend and I were supposed to leave early for the airport, both of us overslept. I woke up approximately an hour and a half before our flight—woke up my friend, rushed through packing, ran all the way to the Marta train station, took a 20 minute ride to the airport, caught a transfer train to our stop, printed our boarding tickets, breezed through security and ran to my gate. I made it with less than 5 minutes before the flight left. Living life dangerously tsk tsk.

It was an amazing weekend trip and can’t wait for more of these. Georgia, I will be back!

#welcometoatlanta #travelatlanta #thenomadinside #travelvlog #digitalnomad #nomadlife #nomadlifestyle #georgia

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humansun · 10 months

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taylor swift in one week

Written Wednesday, August 2nd, 2023 at 8:07AM

It’s hot. I’m sweaty and I just got out the shower.

What am I thinking about? I find it intimidating for myself when I’m not doing as well as I wish I could be, but I can only do my best in the circumstances I’m in.

My grandma still gets on my nerves but less so. My relationship with my mom is a lot better. I’m still trying to figure out my way.

Good things: I submitted my AWC application, I have plenty to work on this month, and I have a new book to dig my nose into for the next week.

The reason why things feel particularly hectic this morning is because I’ve been procrastinating on my actual work work, so after writing this, I’ll jump right into it!

I haven’t gotten the time to meditate or really catch my breath after everything that’s been happening. Hopefully, when things wind down significantly, I’ll be able to do that and it will be relaxing. I’m going to be okay!

Written 11:29PM

Hi, I accidentally and then intentionally had way too much caffeine today, so that’s why I’m up and why I most likely will not attend tomorrow’s gym session.

Instead of putting myself down about it, which old Betty would do, I am now accepting my circumstances and understanding that part of my routine is to be out of my routine. This is not my quote, but shoutout to the quote’s owner, a podcast host for one of the random episodes I picked out a few months ago.

What’s going on? Well a lot. Instead of me screaming at the top of my lungs while playing Mario Party with buds, today I couldn’t sleep for 30+ minutes, so I’m up jotting all my thoughts down and reading the book I checked out yesterday.

Today was a special day, for all the mundane reasons. I did my productive morning, tried my best to keep it neutral while my emotions were going bezerk over my grandma’s commentary throughout the day, took myself on a mini-retreat to an underground-vibe park, and meditated! I also fell asleep while reading at the park.

I spent a fair share of my morning thinking about how I didn’t meet my calorie needs yesterday and that left me feeling uneasy. But! The best part about taking the time to reflect is resolving the issue eventually. I realized that everyone has a couple off days when they’re transitioning into a new routine and process, and it’s natural for things to not go 100% as planned. Even when things are super solid, it’s natural for things to go awry on some days. That is life.

While meeting up with a coworker, I have come to realize how comfortable and stable I feel in being in my mid-20’s. I’ve reached a point of acceptance and contentment, which I honestly didn’t expect. It’s almost like life happens before you realize it, but when you realize it, you learn that you are okay with the process.

I’m confident that as I continue to age, I will reach these conclusions and find joy in the small moments and ease in the temporary lows. Being 25 has been an adventure that I had not planned, but I’m certainly happy and proud of the place I am currently in. I didn’t realize that I would make this much progress creatively over the past year.

I especially would not have thought that I would complete two short films, even if they were super scrappy. I learned while making them, enjoyed the process, and spent time with some of the best people in my life. There will never be regrets in this experience.

I want to also recognize that maybe in this moment, I feel secure and happy. There’s a chance that this could change tomorrow when I wake up, and I’ll feel lost, crummy, and uncertain about the future. But this is what life is. It’s the ups and downs that we’ll get as we’re hit with unexpected life events, fluctuating emotions, and the different types of responsibilities we’ll be dealt in all our roles in life.

There is nothing easy about existing, but trying is a huge feat. Learning is rewarding. Growing will always be exciting. There are not many days now that I feel certain, excited, and secure in my path, but today in particular, I do. Today I feel like everything makes more sense, even if its not exactly what I imagine it to be. I feel today that I am worthy and that everything will fall into place, because there is proof historically that it has.

The promise that I make to myself today is to always do my best, and always strive for better. Not in terms of materialistic goals or money, but in terms of being a better me, appreciating my present, and growing internally. I have the potential to always grow, and I’m confident that I will continue to, with the effort that I put in each day.

Each day I can grow more patient. I can be more controlled. I will empathize and listen rather than think about my response and interrupt. I will be open-minded and celebratory of life when I can be. I will know that there is another tomorrow. I will appreciate each moment of my existence as best I can. In the mist of all the hardship and uncomfortable thoughts/feelings, I get to experience today’s joy. That is my win.

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it. you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though. After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all? Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared). He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did. Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered. The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed. You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him. You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him. Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around. You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention. If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers. With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk. Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter. “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded. By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous. Idiotic. A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you. “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged. “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing? “Thank you. I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense. But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?” His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious. “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him. He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression. His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore. “I’m here, aren’t I? Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that? I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me. It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm. “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium. Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course. And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar. “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time. You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there. Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen. And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds. You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit. All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything. The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex. As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd. Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway. It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted. “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were. But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck. “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me? Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped. “I can take it! Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head. “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on? Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers. You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you. Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly. You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point. "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly. He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air. He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive. The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed. He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss. Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him. Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing. His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately. "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.” It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear. You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly. "Oh, you like that idea, hm? You want to be full of my come? Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast. You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated. As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade. Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks. No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair. It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks. If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry. I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed. He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye. “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss. And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again. He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss. Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss? But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class? Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it? And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios. You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him. And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now. The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class. As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options. There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself. Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable. Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned. "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk. Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was. “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed. “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice. You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly. “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed. “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly. "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours. And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel. “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed. "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again. "A man can only take so much. I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked. "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist. Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod. It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag. “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened. Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded. “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.” He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs. “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair. He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit. Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way. I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed. "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear. "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me. Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut

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sineala · 3 years

Note

How would you say fandom culture has changed over the years? What are some differences you notice between older and younger fandom folks?

I’ve been thinking for a while about how to answer this, and I’m not sure I have a really good answer, but I’m going to try.

I’ve been in fandom since approximately 1995. Maybe 1994. At that point, the world wide web was a relatively new part of the internet, and the fandoms I was in had most of their activity on privately-hosted mailing lists (predating eGroups/OneList/Yahoo Groups) and on Usenet newsgroups, with fiction beginning to be available on websites as part of either fandom-specific or pairing-specific archives as well as authors’ individual pages. Fanfiction.net did not yet exist. LiveJournal did not exist. AO3 definitely did not exist. If you wanted real-time chat, there was IRC. I was coming in basically at the tail end of zine fandom; zines were no longer the only way of distributing fanfiction, as fandom started to move online. So I have a selection of zines from 90s-era Western media fandoms but even by then zines weren’t where I was doing most of my reading.

I think in terms of generally “what it was like to be in fandom,” the big-picture stuff hasn’t changed. Fandom still produces creative fanwork and likes to, y’know, get together and talk about fandom. Also, almost every fight or complaint that fandom has about something is a thing that has been going on for actual years. People complain that, say, the kudos button is ruining comment culture because back in the LJ days the only way you could comment on a story was, well, by leaving an actual comment, or sending an email on a mailing list, and this might mean that people who would have otherwise commented have left a kudos instead. But back in the LJ and mailing list days, people were complaining that commenting was going downhill since the days of zines, when in order to comment on a story you had to write a real paper letter and mail it and because you had to do that, the quality of feedback was so much better than you got nowadays because people could just dash off a quick email or comment. You get the idea. Top/bottom wars are not new either. Pairing wars are not new. If you’ve been in fandom a while, you will pretty much have seen all the fights already. I think one thing that is new, though, is the fandom awareness of things like privilege and intersectionality and various -isms, as well as things like “providing warnings might be nice” (do you know how much unwarned deathfic I have read? a lot!) and I sure won’t say we’re perfect at any of this now, but I think fandom is trying way way more about all that stuff than it used to.

There are some fights we actually don’t have anymore, as far as I can tell. I feel like it’s been years since I’ve seen the “real person fiction is wrong” battle, but also I don’t hang out in a whole lot of RPF fandoms, so it’s possible that’s still going and I just don’t see it.

There also used to be a recurring debate about whether gay relationships that were canonical were slash or not. When slash started, obviously this wasn’t a question because there weren’t canonical gay relationships in fandoms, period. But as gay characters began to appear in media, people started to wonder “does slash mean all same-sex relationships, or does slash mean only non-canonical same-sex relationships?” Now, you may be reading this and think that sounds like an incredibly weird thing to get hung up on, but that’s because what appears to have happened is that the term “ship” (originally from X-Files Mulder/Scully fandom) has, as far as I can tell, come up and eaten most of the rest of the terminology. Now people will just say, “oh, I ship that.” For any pairing, gay or not, canonical or not. Fandom seems to have decided that for the most part it no longer actually needs a term specific to same-sex relationships as a genre.

Similarly, there are a few genres of fic that we used to have also pretty much don’t exist anymore. There are also plenty of genres that are well-entrenched now that are also extremely recent -- A/B/O comes to mind. But there are some kinds of fic we don’t write a lot of now. Like, I haven’t seen smarm in years! I also haven’t seen We’re Not Gay We Just Love Each Other in a while. There was also a particular style of slash writing where you’d basically have to explain, in detail, what made you think that these particular characters could be anything other than straight. You’d have to motivate this decision. You’d have to look at their canonical heterosexual relationships and come up with a way to explain why all those had happened in order to reconcile how this one guy could have romantic feelings for another guy. When had he figured out he wasn’t straight? Who might he have been with before? How does he interact with people in ways that make you think he’s not straight? That kind of thing. You had to, essentially, show your work. And these days a lot of fanfic is just like, “Okay, Captain America is bisexual, let’s go!” It’s... different.

Fandom also used to skew older, is my sense. A lot older. I don’t know, actually, if it really was older, but I get the sense now that there are some younger people who are surprised that adults are still in fandom. I have seen people saying these days that they think they’re too old for fanfiction because they are not in middle school anymore. And I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that the barriers to access fandom are a lot lower than they used to be. You used to basically have to be an adult with disposable income (or know an adult with disposable income who was willing to help you out; but even then if you were reading explicit fiction you also had to swear you were 18+, usually by sending in an age statement to whoever you were buying the zine from or to the mods of the list you wanted to join, so a lot of fandom was very much age-gated). Internet access was not widely available. Even if you had internet access, you maybe didn’t have your own email address, so you couldn’t sign up for mailing lists; free email providers didn’t exist. If you wanted to buy zines, you had to have money to buy them. If you wanted to go to cons, you had to be able to afford the cost of the con, travel to the con, et cetera. If you wanted to have a website you had to know HTML. Social media did not exist. You want to draw art? Guess what, you’re probably drawing it on paper! You might be able to upload a picture to your website if you have a digital camera or a scanner, but both of those things are expensive, and also a lot of people don’t have the capability or the money to download pictures from the internet (some people have data caps with overage charges, and some people have text-only connections!), so they won’t get to see it. Maybe you can sell your piece at a con! You want to make a fanvid? We called them songvids, but, anyway, you know how you’re doing that? You’re going to hook two VCRs together and smash the play and record buttons very fast! If you want anyone else to watch them, you are either making them a tape personally and mailing it to them or bringing your vids to a convention. Maybe you can digitize them and upload them, but it’s going to take people hours to download them!

(Every three hours my ISP would kick me off the internet and I’d have to dial in again. If it was a busy time of day, it might take me 20 or 30 minutes to get a connection again. And that was assuming no one else in the house needed to use the phone line. Imagine if your modem went out every three hours now.)

And now, for the cost of my internet connection, I can read pretty much whatever fanfiction I want, whenever I want it. I can see all the fanart I want! I can watch vids! Podfic exists now! Fanmixes exist! Gifsets and moodboards exist! If I want to write fic I can write it with programs that are completely free, and as soon as I post it everyone in the entire world can read it. If I want to draw or make vids that may require some additional investment, but I may also be able to do it with things I already have. Do you have any idea how good we all have it?

There are a couple of kinds of fan activity that don’t seem to exist anymore, though, and I miss them. I know that roleplaying still goes on, but I feel like these days most people who do real-time text roleplay have switched to things like Discord. I know that in the LJ days, RP communities were popular. But I really miss MU*s (MUDs, MUSHes, MOOs, MUXes..), which were servers for real-time text-based RP with a bunch of... hmm... features to aid RP. There were virtual rooms with text descriptions, and objects in virtual rooms with descriptions, and your character had a description, and they could interact with the objects as well as with other characters, and you could program things to change descriptions or emit various kinds of text or take you to different rooms, and so on. Just to, y’know, enhance the atmosphere. It was fun and it was where I learned to RP and I’m sad they’re pretty much gone now.

I also don’t think I see a lot of fanfiction awards in fandoms. Wonder where they went.

Going back to the previous point, the barriers to actually consuming the canon you are fannish about are way, way, way lower now. You can pretty much take it for granted that if right now someone tells you about a shiny new fandom, there will be a way to read that book or watch that show or movie right now. Possibly for free! Of course you can watch it! Why wouldn’t you be able to?

This was absolutely, absolutely not the case before. I’m currently in Marvel Comics fandom. If there is a comic I want to read, I can read it right now on the internet. I have subscribed to Marvel Unlimited and I can read pretty much every comic that is older than three months old; the newer ones cost extra money. But I can do it all from the comfort of my own home right now. I was also, actually, in Marvel Comics fandom in the nineties. If I wanted to read a comic, I had to go to a comic book store and hope they had it in stock; if they didn’t, I had to try another store. Not a lot of comics were available in trade paperback and they definitely weren’t readable on the internet. I used to read a lot of Gambit h/c fic set after Uncanny X-Men #350. I never found a copy of UXM #350. I still haven’t! But I did eventually read it on Unlimited.

Being in TV show fandoms also had similar challenges. Was the show you were watching still on the air? No? Then you’d better hope you could find it in reruns, or know someone who had tapes of it that they could copy for you, otherwise you weren’t watching that show. It was, I think, pretty common for people to be in fandoms for shows they hadn’t seen, because they had no way to see the show, but they loved all the fanfic. The Sentinel had a whole lot of fans like that, both because I think it took a while for it to end up in reruns and because overseas distribution was probably poor. So you’d get people who read the fic and wrote fic based on the other fic they’d read, which meant that you got massive, massive amounts of fanon appearing that people just assumed was in the show because it was a weirdly specific detail that appeared in someone’s fic once. Like “Jim and Blair’s apartment has a small water heater” (not actually canonical) or “Blair is a vegetarian” (there’s an episode where his mother visits and IIRC cooks him one of his favorite meals, which is beef tongue).

Like, I was in The Professionals fandom for years. I read all the fic. I hadn’t seen the show. As far as I know, it never aired in the US, and it certainly never had any kind of US VHS or DVD release. I’d seen a couple songvids. I eventually saw a couple episodes in maybe 2003, and that was because my dad special-ordered a commercial VHS tape from the UK and paid someone to convert it from PAL to NTSC. I didn’t get to see the whole show until several years later when I got a region-free DVD player someone in fandom sent me burned copies of the UK DVD releases and then I special-ordered the commercial release of the DVDs from the UK myself. But if I were a new fan and wanted to watch Pros right now? It is on YouTube! For free!

I think also one of the things about fandom that’s not immediately evident to new fans is the way in which it is permanent and/or impermanent. There are probably people whose first fannish experience is on Tumblr or who only read fanfic on FFN and who have no idea what they would do if either site, say, just shut down. But if you’ve been in fandom a while, you’ve been through, say, Discord, Tumblr, Twitter, Pillowfort, Imzy, DW, JournalFen, LJ, GeoCities, IRC, mailing lists. And sure, if Tumblr closed, it would be inconvenient. But fandom would pack up and move somewhere else. You would find it again. It would, eventually, be okay. Similarly, if you’ve been in a lot of fandoms, if you’ve made a lot of friends, drifting through fandoms is like that. You’ll make a friend in 1998 because you were in the same fandom, and then you might go your own ways, and ten years later you might be in another fandom with them again! It happens.

But the flip side of that is that I think a lot of older fans have learned not to trust in the permanence of any particular site. If you like a story, you save it as soon as you read it. If you like a piece of art, you save it. If you like a vid, you save it. Because you don’t know when the site it’s on will be gone for good. I have, like, twenty years of lovingly-curated fanfic. And I feel like people who have only been in fandom since AO3 existed might not understand how much AO3 is a game-changer compared to what we had before. It’s a site where you can put your fic up and you don’t have to worry that the webhost is going out of business, or that the site might delete your work because they don’t allow gay fiction or explicit fiction or fiction written in second person or fiction for fandoms where the creator doesn’t like fanfiction, or whatever. Because all of those things have absolutely happened. But, I mean, I still save pretty much everything I like, even on AO3, just in case.

So, basically, yeah, fandom is a whole lot more accessible than it used to be. I think fandom is pretty much still fandom, but it’s a lot easier to get into, and that has made it way more open to people who wouldn’t have been able to be in fandom before. There is so, so much more now than there ever was before, and I think that’s great.

#Anonymous #replies

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becca-e-barnes · 2 years

Note

Holy shit my face is so warm right now, I hope you keep writing watersports because bestie let me tell you 😫🥴

Warning: Watersports

I’m enjoying this so much I can’t even describe it 🙈

Because just imagine how Bucky would get off on setting you in his lap and feeling you get squirmy and desperate.

Like maybe on the edge of the bath so you can see yourselves in the bathroom mirror. You’re both in just underwear, you’re on his lap and he’s been making you hold all day but he’s ramped it up over the last 20 minutes, making you drink bottle after bottle of water.

You really have to go. You desperately want to close your thighs and clench them together to try to give yourself a little more control over your body but he’s keeping your legs spread either side of his, cooing in your ear.

“Good girl, keep drinking. That’s it, baby. I bet you’re throbbing. Bet it feels like too fuckin’ much and I haven’t laid a finger on you. You’re doin’ so well holding it for me.” His metal fingers ghost gently over the top of your panties, watching how you whimper and shift to get comfortable, your ass rubbing deliciously on his cock

“Bucky please, I can’t hold much longer. I need to go, I can’t drink any more without going.” You plead, the desperate look on your own reflection making you slightly dizzy.

“I know you’re wrong, baby. You can take more. In fact, you’re going to take more.” The crack of the plastic seal on a fresh bottle sends a shiver down your spine and before you know it, the rim is at your lips and you’re gulping it down. Bucky barely even gives you the chance to take a breath so you have no choice but to keep drinking.

“Oh good girl, that’s it. Fuck, I bet you’re full. Pushing you to the limit. Just make sure you let go if it starts to hurt but you’ve done well so far, I bet you could hold it a little longer.” His voice is dripping with authority, loving the sight of you squirming, rocking in his lap to ease your own discomfort.

“Bucky, I’m gonna dribble. O-oh Bucky I’m leaking.” You whimper, not even able to watch yourself in the mirror as the first few droplets of liquid patter softly onto the bath. Bucky’s eyes are wide, watching a dark spot grow on your little pink cotton panties, a little trickle running down your legs

“That was more than a dribble sweetheart. Started losing control, didn’t you?” He loves this. He loves the pathetic whines you let out when he draws attention to the fact you can’t control yourself anymore and he loves that you get off on this too.

“J-just a little. ‘M still so full though. S-so full.” You gasp and then you feel his flesh hand land on your lower tummy, pressing gently. “No Bucky please. I’ll lose it, oh god please don’t press, I’ll go all over you.” Your little choked groan makes him throb because that’s exactly what he needs.

“Wanna feel you lose it. Come on sweetheart, you know you want to. Bet it’ll be such a relief, it’s gonna feel so good.” He barely manages to whisper the words against your ear before you’re giving in. His flesh hand is pressing too hard on your bulging tummy, his metal hand gripping your chin so you have to look in the mirror and watch yourself spill all over him.

The gush of liquid never seems to end, your sobs of relief almost covering the quiet hiss of your body relieving itself. “Silly girl pissed herself. Oh sweetheart, you’re making such a mess. Dripping all over me.” Bucky groans, grinding his hips gently, enjoying the warm stream flooding from your desperate body

#asks answered <3 #anon #becca writes spice #tw: holding #tw: water sports #I’m back #and I’m ready to start writing up all my thots #get ready #I would like a nap tho #very sleepy #not an endorsement of single use plastic water bottles btw #but it’s one of those sounds to can imagine so clearly #recycle water bottles or use a reusable one 💕

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wandaromanova · 3 years

Text

Date Night

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, sexual suggestion, that’s all!

A/N: hello! here is some fluff for y’all! hope you enjoy! happy reading <3

anon requested: Hi honey! I saw that your requests are open :)) I was wondering if I may please request a fluffly Natasha Romanoff x fem reader one shot, where she surprises the reader with a lunch date (reader has had a super stressful week!) and then convinces her to take the rest of the day off. Later on maybe Natasha starts dropping hints at their future together and later on in the week she proposes (maybe somewhere that has meaning to them) after a very romantic dinner. Thank you!! :))

Summary: Natasha convinces her girlfriend to take some time off of work. They end up having a date night unlike any of their previous ones.

Word Count: 3K

| masterlist | request rules/guidelines | wips |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Natasha stared up at the tall building with two bags of food in hand. She was about to surprise you with some lunch, considering you haven’t been able to take a single break the entire week.

Seriously, even when you were at home, you’d be working on paperwork or taking call after call from your company partners. You’d then go back to work the next morning and completely neglect your own needs, the only thing you’d focus on was anything work-related.

You were the CEO of a major telecommunications company and things have been super hectic around your office. You barely had time to breathe with everything that had been going on, so, Natasha thought that it would be a good idea to give you a nice surprise.

She made her way into the building and got into one of the fancy elevators, quickly tapping the button to the top floor and stood in silence, lively elevator music filling the small space.

When the doors opened, she walked out and was greeted by your secretary; Megan.

“Hi, Ms. Romanoff. Ms. L/N is just in her office working on some paperwork. She has a meeting in 20 minutes, though.”

Megan sent Natasha a friendly smile. The redhead simply nodded and mumbled out a small ‘thank you’ before opening the door to your office.

She was met with the sight of you hunched over your desk. The light poured into the tall windows in the room, providing sufficient lighting.

You glanced up from your papers at the sound of the door closing softly. Natasha smiled at you and held up the bags of food. Your lips turned upward at the sight of your girlfriend of five years.

“Honey, what are you doing here?” You asked as you got up from your desk, quickly making your way over to greet the Russian. You pulled her in by the waist and into a tight hug.

“I thought you could use some lunch. You haven’t been taking care of yourself and I’m here to change that.” Natasha mumbled into your neck as her arms rested on your shoulder, gripping onto the food she still had in her hands.

“Baby, you didn’t need to come all the way here. I’m fine, just been super busy lately is all.” You pulled back slightly and stared into green eyes.

“Yes, I needed to. I can’t just standby while you’re practically drowning in stress.”

Natasha got out of your embrace and made her way over to your desk, placing the food down and turning around, leaning onto the table with two hands gripping the furniture behind her.

“I’ll manage, it’s kind of my job.” You let out a small giggle, rounding the desk and sitting on your chair. Natasha turned in her spot as you patted your lap.

“Come on, let’s eat the food you brought. I have a meeting soon so we gotta be quick.”

Natasha walked toward you and sat in your lap, your arms circling around her waist. She opened the food and laid out the plates of Thai food.

Natasha fed you and herself. You both sat in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Occasionally, Nat would mimic an airplane or train noise as she moved the spoon closer to you, laughing as she abruptly shoved the utensil into your mouth.

After fifteen minutes had passed, you looked at your watch and sighed. You had another meeting that would probably be ridiculously long for no reason.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I have to get going. I have a meeting in five.”

You moved to get up, but Natasha refused to move off of your lap. You raised an eyebrow at her, the redhead giving you a stern look.

“Take the day off.” You shook your head in protest. You couldn’t take a day off, not now at least.

“Honey, you know I would if I could, bu-“ Natasha immediately cut you off, pressing her lips against yours before pulling back quickly.

“You can though. You’ve been working more than necessary! Please, it’s not even a full day off, it’s half a day.”

Natasha gave you the best puppy dog eyes and pout that she could, knowing how it affected you. Of course, she ended up winning.

“Fine, fine.” You muttered out, leaning forward and pressing a button on your desk-side phone, paging Megan, who sat just outside your office.

“Yes, Ms. L/N?” Your assistant’s spritely voice rang through the phone.

“Megan, could you please clear the rest of my day? I’m taking the day off.” You heard some shuffling on the other end of the phone before the woman replied.

“Okay, your schedule has been cleared and your meetings have been rescheduled to tomorrow.”

Natasha, who could faintly hear the other end of the conversation, smiled triumphantly and placed a soft kiss on the side of your neck.

“Thank you.” And with that, you hung up and returned your attention to the beaming redhead in your lap.

“You never play fair.” You mumbled against her cheek as you placed a gentle kiss against her skin.

“All is fair in love and war, moya lyubov (my love).” You rolled your eyes at the Russian while holding back a smile.

She got out of your hold and stood up, grabbing both of your hands and forcefully pulling you to your feet.

“Let’s go! I know a few things we could do today.” Natasha spoke seductively and sent you a little wink before grabbing the trash on your desk and throwing it away in the small trash can you had under the table.

You watched with a wide smile as she waltzed toward the door, making sure to sway her hips a little more, exaggerating the movement. There was an extra spring in her step that caused her red locks to bounce with each movement.

She turned her head around when her hand was on the doorknob, smirking at you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you coming or not?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I have a feeling I will be soon.”

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

4 hours later

You laid in bed with Natasha by your side, her head resting on your shoulder with an arm around your torso.

After hours of love-making, you guys had finally gotten to relax. You both just stayed there in each other’s arms, appreciating the moment.

“Honey?” Natasha spoke, breaking the silence.

You tilted your head to look down at her, the redhead already staring up at you as you hummed.

“Have you ever thought about what you want your future to look like?”

This wasn’t the first time you guys have discussed the future. You’d both mention small tidbits of your aspirations and goals, but never went too far into the details of it all.

“Well, first starters, you’re definitely there.” Natasha smiled up at you with bright eyes. It absolutely warmed your heart to see her so full of joy.

“Really?” You nodded your head and kissed her forehead, the redhead briefly shutting her eyes as your soft lips met her skin.

“Really.” You pulled back, brushing your nose against hers. The redhead placed a hand on your cheek, as connected your foreheads.

“Well, I see you in mine too. Maybe we would end up leaving this penthouse and buy an actual home together.”

You nodded with a wide smile. The thought of buying a property with the woman you adored had you giddy.

“Yeah, definitely. Then maybe we could have little rascals of our own running around. We could find a surrogate or maybe even adopt if you’d want to.”

Natasha felt like she was going to melt into a puddle of love. The thought of having children to raise with you filled her with more joy than ever.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’d love that.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The moment was cut off when a loud yawn tore through your body, promoting a little giggle from your girlfriend.

She cuddled closer to you, her arm tightening around your body with a smile on her face.

“Let’s get some rest.” Natasha’s words were slightly slurred, the exhaustion of your previous activities hitting her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah, so we can have energy for a round two.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah right, more like round ten.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Go big or go home!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Go to sleep, idiot.”

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

5 days later

It was a Saturday night and Natasha had practically forced you to not go into work.

Usually, you would go into the office on Saturdays, despite having the day off, to get some extra work out of the way, but your girlfriend was extremely persistent.

So now, here you two were, getting ready to go out for a date night. You had to admit that this was a good idea.

You couldn’t remember the last time you and Nat had gone out on a date; it was a rarity with how busy you both would be majority of the time.

You walked out of the bathroom after brushing out your hair, your heart racing at the sight of your girlfriend clad in a simple black body-con dress that hugged her curves in all the right places paired with a cute, black blazer.

She straightened her hair and did her makeup just the way you liked it.

You stalked over to the woman who stood in front of the full-body length mirror, wrapping your arms around her waist from behind and placing a soft kiss onto her cheek.

“You look gorgeous, baby. I’m so lucky.” Your eyes raked over her figure through the reflection of the mirror before meeting her green ones.

“Thank you, but I’m the lucky one. I swear, if we didn’t have reservations, I’d rip your clothes off and take you right here.”

Natasha’s voice came out husky when you kissed the side of her neck. You sucked on her skin lightly and went to leave a mark, but the Russian turned around in your embrace.

“No marks, not until after dinner at least.” You let out a small whine, pulling her front against yours tightly.

“Oh come on! It’s not like we haven’t ditched our reservations for dinner before. I miss you.”

You tried to go for her neck again, but she flicked your forehead. You stared at her with a look that screamed ‘what the fuck was that for?’

“Don’t give me that look. I’ve been looking forward to having a date night for months. We aren’t missing this. Let’s go.”

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Two hours later

Natasha had taken you to one of the best restaurants in New York. You weren’t one for fancy places, you were more of a ‘let’s order takeout and watch tv’ kind of gal, but Natasha absolutely loved luxurious dining experiences.

When you both arrived, the waited immediately escorted you both to the most private table in the house.

The table was set with candles and rose petals were spread across the tablecloth. You were blown away, seeing as the table overlooked the city.

Natasha pulled your seat back for you, placing a soft kiss on her cheek as you sat down. You watched as she rounded the table and sat in the chair across from you.

Her skin was golden as the candlelight brightened up her face, accentuating her green eyes beautifully. She had a cheeky smile on her face and wiggled her eyebrows at you before looking at the menu.

Of course, the redhead ordered the best wine the restaurant had to offer, immediately asking for a bottle of the alcohol.

You two talked about anything and everything over the course of the dinner. You had to admit, this was probably one of the best dates you guys had ever been on, besides your first one, at least.

As you both finished off your meals and were given the check, you noticed that Natasha couldn’t seem to sit still.

She was tapping her fingers against the table anxiously as she gnawed on her bottom lip. You placed your hand on top of hers, stopping the insistent movement.

“Is everything okay, baby?” You asked in concern. It was really unlike Natasha to be nervous, especially during date night.

She was usually relaxed and content whenever you both had time to spend out together.

The redhead sent you a reassuring smile and flipped her hand over, intertwining your fingers before bringing your conjoined hands up to her lips, kissing the back of your hand.

“Never better, hon. Come on, there’s somewhere I want to take you.”

Natasha placed her credit card into the bill holder and waved down a waiter and shortly after, you both walked out into the cool New York air, hand-in-hand.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Your eyes lit up when you noticed where your next destination was; Central Park.

You had always loved the park. There was something so beautiful about the scenery and the usual liveliness of the area that brought you so much peace and comfort.

Natasha led you towards a pond that was located in the heart of the park and you immediately recognized which one it was.

The redhead stopped in her tracks on top of the tiny bridge that hovered over the pond.

“Do you remember this spot?” She asked you as she turned around to face you, hand still linked with yours.

“How could I forget? You took me here on our very first date to feed the ducks, which completely backfired.” You let out a laugh at the memory, Natasha’s cheeks turning red.

“I wouldn’t say it backfired…” The redhead mumbled shyly which only made you laugh harder.

“Honey, you ended up getting attacked by pigeons because you were holding the bread. You walked me home covered in bird shit and your clothes were absolutely torn apart.”

You were practically crying from your laughter and you felt Natasha’s hand heating up in yours.

“It wasn’t funny! I really liked that outfit.” Natasha pouted as your laughter died down.

You placed a kiss onto her pouty lips, her frown quickly replaced with a bright smile.

“Anyway, I took you here because this is where our first date was which obviously resulted in us dating.”

You nodded your head at her words, deciding to remain silent when you noticed she had more to add.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“And, well… this is where I want our last date, as girlfriends, to be.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You felt your heart sink at her words. Was she breaking up with you right now? It didn’t make any sense! She didn’t ever show any indication that she was unhappy or wanted to leave you.

However, before you could completely break down, Natasha let out a shaky breath, and it was then that you noticed how shaky her hands were.

“Y/N, All my life, I never thought that I’d find love. After all of the things that the Red Room had taught me and forced me to do, I never believed that love was in the cards for me, but then I met you, and everything changed.”

You stared at Natasha curiously. This definitely didn’t sound like a breakup. So what was she going on about?

“I never ever thought that one day, I’d find someone that I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. I never thought that I’d ever want to buy a house and build a family with another person, but god, I’m so fucking happy that I was wrong.”

Your eyes watered when the gravity of the situation finally sunk in. Your thoughts were confirmed as Natasha let go of your hand and slowly bent down on one knee in front of you, reaching her hand into her blazer pocket, revealing the small velvet red box that had been tucked away in the material.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Baby, these last five years have been the best years I’ve ever had, and it was all because of you.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Your hands flew up to your mouth as a gasp escaped your lips. There were tears in your eyes as she revealed a gorgeous engagement ring to you.

“Y/N, I want you, every day, for the rest of my life. Will you make me the happiest woman in the world and marry me?”

Natasha’s voice was unstable as she tried to hold back her emotions, but that went out the window when you frantically nodded your head in agreement.

“Yes!” You whispered out in shock. Natasha looked up at you with a wide smile.

“Yeah?” The redhead asked for confirmation and you let out a small chuckle.

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you! Is that even a question?” Natasha grabbed your left hand shakily and slid the ring onto your finger.

You were both crying at this point. You didn’t care that you were both stood in the freezing cold, in the middle of Central Park.

All that mattered was that this was going to be the beginning of the rest of your life with the woman you loved.

Suddenly, Natasha stood up and picked you up by the waist, twirling you both around.

Honestly, you were surprised she didn’t stumble, considering the fact that she was wearing such high heels. Luckily for you though, she didn’t fall.

You were both laughing like maniacs when she finally stopped spinning. You were like two teenagers in love without a care in the world.

You leaned down, still in her arms, and kissed her passionately.

You could feel all the love and adoration she had for you through the kiss and you prayed to God that she could feel just how much you felt for her too.

When Natasha disconnected the kiss, she placed you gently onto the floor, your arms immediately going around her neck, hers securing themselves around your waist.

“We’re getting married?” She asked in disbelief. Natasha genuinely couldn’t believe that you said yes, even if you never gave her any indication that you would say no.

“We’re getting married.” You reassured her, kissing the tip of her nose, practically melting as her nose scrunched up adorably.

This definitely wasn’t what you expected the night to be like, but you wouldn’t change any detail about it for the world.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You were going to be Y/N L/N-Romanoff.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And that was a name you were going to carry around proudly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤ

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439 notes · View notes

softyoongiionly · 3 years

Text

chapstick

based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on.

Jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Genre: fluff, smut, established relationship, jungkook has a man bun idk what else I could possibly want

Warnings: language, explicit smut (18+ only plz), oral (male receiving)

A/N: Hello yes, I am mess. I wrote this in like four hours and it’s unedited but wow wow wow wow I am GOING THROUGH it for Jungkook. Anywayz, I love u. here u go

Jungkook is in a bad mood today.

He’s been awake since 6am, he hasn’t eaten since mid-morning and, he’s been practicing for over 12 hours.

Worst of all, everyone else seems to be in a good mood.

It’s not that he hates when his hyung's are happy, it’s just that when you’re in a bad mood- sometimes the shriek of someone’s laughter can feel intrusive.

“Alright!” Hoseok’s voice hits the practice mirrors and with Jungkook feeling oversensitive, he cringes at the sound of it, “Let’s go again from the top!”

Jungkook sighs through his nose, stretching his sore back for a moment before getting back into formation.

“Jungkook-ah! Push a little harder in the second half ok?!”

Hoseok is in dance-mode and therefore he has no idea how loud he’s being.

Jungkook purses his lips and nods, taking a deep breath before shaking out his hands.

“Yah! Jungkook?” Hoseok calls, facing the mirror, his eyes searching for Jungkook at the back of the practice room.

“Yeh.” He grunts, barely looking up from the floor.

“Did you hear me?”

He nods, his hands fumbling around in the pockets of his sweatpants, “Push harder in the second half...”

The rest of the boys seem unphased by his uninterested demeanor. They are no stranger to exhaustion.

“Alright- let’s go.”

For what feels like the 100th time today, Jungkook moves through the routine as if it were second nature. The movements feel robotic and the muscles in his arms are beginning to turn to Jell-O. The strands of his hair are covered with sweat and, he’s thankful for his newly procured undercut for lessening the amount of heat he’d normally feel after working out this long.

He feels gross though.

Normally, he enjoys working this hard but today he isn’t feeling it. In fact, the strain between his brows is getting a little painful as he really tries his best not to frown.

The new choreography is intense and as much he likes the challenge- after the 100th time of running through it, he’s starting to get frustrated.

Panting through his nose, he holds his position at the end of the routine before Hoseok finally calls it.

“Yahhhh! That was a lot better huh? You guys did good.” He praises, clapping his hands, “Now go get some water and then we’ll run it again...”

Jungkook sighs hopelessly, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. He cringes at the feeling of sweat collecting on his skin, wanting nothing more than to make it back home to his shower.

Amongst other things...

Grabbing a bottle of water off of the table, Jungkook has to work very hard not to crush the bottle in his hands as he eagerly gulps down what he can. He finishes the bottle in record time and as he reaches for a second one, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check it.

Tweety: hiii I hope you’re having a good day! Do you want to takeout tonight? I got caught up at the school and, I didn’t pull anything out.

Jungkook feels his tight chest loosen up a bit as he sees your text come through.

You made a comment one day that he ‘gives off bugs bunny vibes’ and he responded by comparing you to Tweety bird.

Needless to say, the nicknames are dumb but you guys think they’re cute.

Bugs: takeout sounds good. I’ll be there late tonight though :/ I hope you had a good day too. Miss u.

Jungkook has just enough time to respond to you before he is wincing at the sound of Hoseok corralling everyone back to the practice floor.

Again, again, again, again, and again...

He’s so tired by the end of the circuit that he’s starting to feel throbbing in his temples. Headaches are a common side effect of over-exertion and just as he is getting ready to beg to go home, they are calling it.

“Ok ok- good job! You’ve worked hard everyone. Let’s rest for a day and then resume on Sunday.”

Jungkook feels his entire body deflate with relief at the last words parading out of Hoseok’s mouth.

His day is finally over.

He reminds himself to never wear new boots to rehearsal again because he can’t feel the tips of his toes and his fairly certain there are blisters on the of his ankles.

“Are you riding with me?” Jimin asks him on the way out of the practice room, his voice decorated with exhaustion.

Jungkook doesn’t fully pay attention to his question, his eyes already trained on his phone.

“No, I’m getting my own car.”

Jimin looks confused for a moment before a small smirk comes over his face.

“Are going to see her?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond quick enough, his mouth parted slightly as he types out his message to you.

“Aren’t you worried what people are going to think? You’re over there a lot...”

Jimin isn’t being judgmental with his questioning and Jungkook knows this. He can hear the genuine concern in his voice and understands that his hyung is merely looking out for him.

“I don’t really care what people think anymore.” He answers honestly, ensuring that he keeps his tone as polite as possible.

Jungkook’s had to worry about the opinions of others since he was 15. As grateful as he is for his career, he is growing tired of being unable to make his own decisions. His gaze hones in on the tattoos covering his fingers and forearms and remembers a time not too long ago where he was required to hide them. Putting a band aids on his own self-expression didn’t feel good and he sort of promised himself that he wouldn’t allow the expectations of others to stop him from doing what he wanted.

Or seeing who he wanted...

“You’re getting bolder with age.” Jimin notes, somewhat proudly as his eyes flicker over to him, “You really like her, don’t you?”

Tweety: miss u toooooo. I ordered ramen

Bugs: I just got out. I should be there in 20 minutes. I’m so hungry

Jungkook feels his cheeks heat up at Jimin’s question and rather than answer him, he just kind of shrugs, his mouth turned up in a small smirk.

“Yah, don’t hold out on me-”Jimin bumps his shoulder, tilting his head in an attempt to get him to look his way, “We’ve known each other for how long?”

Jungkook slips his phone back into his pocket and adjusts his bag on his shoulder.

“I think the answer is obvious hyung.”

Jimin rolls his eyes playfully, “If it’s so obvious then why don’t you just say it.”

The two of them lean against the wall of the lobby, waiting on a notification from their drivers that they are outside.

Jungkook bites his lip, in an attempt to reign in the grin that threatens his face.

“I like her.”

Laughter trickles out of Jimin’s lips as he bumps his shoulder, “Why are you shy all of the sudden? Is there something else I don’t know?”

Yes.

There was something else Jimin didn’t know.

Jungkook hasn’t told a single soul since it happened.

He’s so incredibly private and after meeting you, he only has more of an urge to keep things to himself.

“There’s nothing.” Jungkook mutters, his eyes eagerly looking checking his phone for the driver notification.

“You’re lying to me.” Jimin calls him out, “What is it?”

Jungkook shakes his head, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear. He licks over his lips and immediately regrets the fact that he forgot his Chapstick.

How’s he supposed to kiss you, if his lips are chapped?

“Jungkook-ah, tell me-” Jimin whines, tugging on his sleeve.

He merely snickers finally and shrugs him off, shaking his head, “There’s nothing to tell. Why do you think I’m hiding something from you?”

“Because I’ve known you for almost ten years and I-” Jimin begins before a knowing smirk comes over his face, “Wait- you’ve slept with her haven’t you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen a bit, taken aback by his bold statement, “Someone’s going to hear you, why are you asking questions like this?”

His hyung giggles, deeply satisfied with his discovery, “You have, haven't you?”

Jungkook feels the threat of a smile come over his face again, “Why do you want to know? It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters-” He shoots him a pointed look, “Because we’re best friends? And I want to know. When did it happen?”

Jungkook is feeling a little bit bolder, unable to help the pride he feels that he was finally able to experience an intimate relationship, “Which time?”

Jimin’s eyes widen before he slaps Jungkook on the arm, “Which time??? You’ve done it more than once?”

“Shhh-” Jungkook whisper yells, his brow furrowing, “We’ve been seeing eachother for 6 months. Why do you look so surprised?”

Jimin chuckles this time, glancing behind him, “I just- I don’t know...it was your first time, wasn’t it? I just thought you’d make a bigger deal of it.”

He shrugs again, a smirk still lingering, “It was a big deal- to us. I thought you guys would just figure it out eventually.”

Ever the nosy one, Jimin slinks a little closer to him, a bit of mischief in his eyes, “It’s fun huh?”

Jungkook just rolls his eyes, brushing him off playfully, “I thought I was supposed to be the youngest.”

Jimin ignores his comment and just looks at him expectantly.

Giving up on holding out, Jungkook finally gives him what he wants and replies.

“It was fun.”

Jimin offers his signature bit of laughter again but before he’s able to interrogate him any further, Jungkook finally gets the notification that his driver is here.

“I’ll see you Sunday, hyung.” Jungkook gives him a short wave before adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Jimin smirks and flutters his fingers in his direction, “Have fun.”

Jungkook just shakes his head, groaning to himself as he finally leaves the building.

Slumping into his seat, he shuts his eyes for a moment and tries his best not to fall asleep. Thankfully, his desire to eat his weight in ramen paired with his desire to see you keeps him from passing out.

You and Jungkook have been together for a while now and although the initial nerves surrounding seeing him have lessened slightly, you still want to look good for him. Thankfully for you, when it comes to impressing your boyfriend- less is more.

Slowly but surely, he has revealed his preferences to you but they have slipped out casually. He doesn’t ever want you to feel like you have to look a certain way for him.

But you do know he likes black.

And you do know he likes when you wear oversized pieces.

The harsh bit of winter also makes dressing in gigantic hoodies and thick socks a lot easier anyhow.

So you opt for something along the lines of cute but comfy and tend to your hair the easiest way you know how.

Jungkook also loves it when you don’t wear any makeup. But he’s never told you directly, you’ve just figured out based on the way he gets all starry eyed every time you wash your face at night.

The ramen is all set up in the living room and you’ve got one of the Christmas movies the two of you started the other day, ready to play.

By the time you hear a knock at your door, everything is ready for a cozy Friday night with your boyfriend.

Upon opening your door, you are met with the sight of Jungkook- sweaty, soft and slightly sleepy standing there in all of his glory. He’s dressed in grey sweats and a big white t-shirt, his hair tied up messily atop his head. Along with the smell of sweat, you can faintly make out the remnants of his cologne and it stirs something deep inside of you.

Jungkook’s eyes scan over you briefly, offering a small smile as he leans in to peck your cheek, “Hiiii...”

He sings the greeting, patting your hips as he quickly steps into your apartment.

“Hello,” You sing back, giggling a bit, “Did you guys just now finish up practicing? Didn’t you start at like 7?”

Jungkook winces as he begins slipping off his big clunky boots, leaning back against your front door, “Yeah. I really thought they were trying to kill me- I did the new dance so many times, I lost count.”

Pouting your lips, you take his bag off his shoulder and hang it up on your coat rack.

“I’m so sorry.” You murmur, shaking your head, “Did they give you tomorrow off at least?”

At this, Jungkook grins, nodding as he does, “Yeah, I was going to ask you what you were doing tomorrow cause I thought maybe you’d want to hang out. Our night was supposed to start a lot earlier...”

He looks regretful and even slightly annoyed.

He’s been having this issue a lot lately where his prior obligations and engagements seem to mean nothing to his directors, which never used to be a big deal but, now that he has you in his life- he never wants to let you down.

“I’m free all day-” You reply happily, before narrowing your eyes at him, “I have one condition though-”

Jungkook looks intrigued, cocking his head as he steps forward, “What’s your condition?”

“I need one of these...” Pointing to your lips, you pucker them and make grabby hands at your boyfriend.

He laughs softly, shaking his head as he closes the space between you, “I just got here and you’re already using kisses as collateral now huh?” His voice gets a little lower and before you can reply, his gently places his lips on yours, sighing out through his nose as his flutter shut.

Once he starts kissing you, you aren’t really able to think of a coherent response. Leaning into him, you hum lightly in your throat, tucking your lips between his.

However, when you attempt to slide your hand up the exposed skin of his arm, he winces and pulls away.

Groaning, you can’t help but giggle, “I know- I know... ‘babe, I’m too sweaty. Let me just shower really quick and then I’ll promise, I'll kiss you so much better’...”

At your attempt to imitate his voice, Jungkook starts laughing- cute nose scrunched up with delight.

He kisses his teeth, “You know me too well. I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook leans in again and kisses you on the cheek before disappearing into your bathroom moments later

After his showering, he comes out in a baggy t-shirt and some sweats, his hair freshly blow dried and piled up on his head in a messy bun.

He scarfs down his dinner in record time before the two of you settle back against the couch.

You can feel him looking at you as you giggle at the TV but he doesn’t let his eyes linger very long. He just kind of stares for a moment before simply tightening his grip around your shoulders. He feels so warm beside you that you seriously wonder how long you’ll be able to stay awake with him being the human equivalent of a weighted blanket.

When your laughter erupts again, Jungkook leans in to pop a kiss on your check, which broadens your smile that much more. It’s only for a moment before he turns back to the TV, seemingly satisfied with his actions. However, you decide to return the favor and smoosh your lips against his face, eliciting a snicker from his throat.

You snuggle into him more, grabbing his arm that’s resting on the couch beside you and wrapping it around so that his hand is resting your lap. Leaning your head against his chest, you slowly began tracing over the markings on his skin lightly brushing your nails against each unique line. Jungkook’s eyes are trained on the TV and despite his blank expression, you can see the goosebumps forming on his skin.

Regardless, you just keep going, allowing your fingertips to trace over the letters adorning his hand. Using your nails, you trace between each of his fingers, before interlocking them your own. Once you’re holding hands, Jungkook squeezes slightly, brushing his thumb along your skin which then prompts you to finally to turn to the side and look at him.

He grins softly, still not glancing your way but choosing to offer a playful comment instead, “You’re not watching the movie...”

You laugh softly, reaching out with your free hand and tilting his face towards you.

“We’ve watched this movie four times-” You retort, “Besides I’m pretty sure I remember you promising me that you’d kiss me properly once you were out of the shower.”

Jungkook’s grin broadens, his doe-eyes alight with defiance, “I’m pretty sure you promised yourself that for me- I don’t remember agreeing to it.”

You scoff in mock offense, “Damn ok. So it’s like that huh? I buy you ramen and yet this is how I’m treated. I’m calling the UN...”

Jungkook laughs a little harder now, the sound a little sharp but intensely endearing, “It’s that serious for you?”

Pouting, you nod, “It is that serious.” You’re about to say something else before you brush your thumb over his lips and notice the dryness there, “Did you remember to bring your chapstick today?”

He immediately sucks his lips between his teeth and given that his ability to speak is no compromsied he simply nods, his eyes wide with false innocence.

“Mhmmm.” He lies

“No you didn’t!” You exclaim, laughing a bit as you press your thumb against the thin line of his mouth, “Babe, it’s so cold outside- your lips are going to start cracking.”

Unfurling his lips, he lets his head fall back on his shoulders, “I know, I know-” He whines playfully before his head snaps back up to yours, the same glint remaining in his gaze, “You have some right?”

You roll your eyes, “You know that I do.”

He snickers, quickly leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Can I have some then?”

Playfully shoving him off, you rise from the couch and shake your head, “I’m giving you one to keep in your rehearsal bag,” You shuffle over to your bathroom, “You better use it!”

He laughs as he hears your demand echo down the hallway before calling back, “Hurry jagi! They are so dry- I can feel them! They are so close to cracking!”

Seconds later, your hurling one of your many lip balms into his lap which he catches just before it hits him.

“Put it on...” You demand pointedly and he shakes his head.

“I don’t think I can-” He sighs dramatically, holding the lip balm out to you, “You have to do it- all of the moisture in my body is slowly fading away...my lips are trying to suck it all up.”

Giggling, you cross your arms, shaking your head, “That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Y/N! Please!” Jungkook chokes out, “Before I waste away...the winter-” His eyes bug out of his head, as his hand clutches his chest, “the winter jagi- it's going to dry me out completely.”

Finally snapping, you grab the Chapstick out of his hands before asserting yourself into his lap. He laughs, resting his head against the couch cushions whilst his hands sneakily find their way to your hips.

“You’re so annoying...” You grumble, still giggling yourself as he puckers his lips dramatically.

“I’m only following your recommendations.” He insists, making kissy noises at you, “Balm me up baby.”

Uncapping the chapstick, you press your chest against his before starting to drag it over his lips. As you get to work on helping him, his mischievous gaze slowly softens until he’s looking up at you with stars in his eyes. Carefully, you make sure every inch of his mouth is covered with balm, paying special attention to the corners and his lower lip. As you finish up, you put the cap back on set on the couch cushion.

He rubs his lips together, humming in satisfaction.

You smirk, “Better?”

Jungkook nods his Adams’ apple bobbing in his throat as he feels you shift on his hips.

“Make sure.” He murmurs, puckering his lips, his eyes starting to swim with arousal.

You lean in, unable to refuse him before capturing his mouth in a kiss. Rotating your head, you slowly deepen the connection between your lips, drawing a sigh from the boy beneath you. You can feel his thumbs rub ever so gently against the back of your hips as he leans fully back so that your chest is resting on his.

He nudges your nose, allowing his tongue to brush against the bottom of your top lip, requesting entrance into your mouth. You accept him, licking along his tongue, a shiver running up your spine as he sucks slightly on the top of you.

Jungkook really is a filthy kisser but you’d never guess by just looking at him.

He’s quite sure his face is growing numb, his only focus on the way you’re making him feel and a somewhat annoying pain on the back of his head. His ponytail is digging against the wall, causing unnecessary discomfort to wash over him. Still kissing you, he reaches behind his head to pull the hair tie out, allowing his hair to fall freely around his face. You take the opportunity to slide your fingers between the strands, scratching gently at his scalp and causing a slightly shaky breath to leave his lips.

He loves when you play with his hair.

You use both hands now to tuck it behind his ear before using them to slide down the length of his arms. Finding his hands on your hips, you lace your fingers with his and bring them back up so they are pinned against either side of his head.

The making out didn’t get him fully hard but as soon as he feels his hands pinned against the head of the couch, he feels his dick twitch almost painfully in his sweatpants.

Smirking into his mouth, you delight in the sudden halt to his breathing. Subtly, he pushes his hips up a bit when you start kissing your way down his chin and throat. Jungkook summons all the resolve he has and goes perfectly still when you start placing soft kisses along the expanse of his throat. You feel the ache between your legs worsen when you feel his fingers tightening against yours. Jungkook is a very sensitive person, both emotionally and physically. Over the time you’ve become intimate, you’ve slowly uncovered all the little spots that drive him crazy.

And you’re determined to kiss every single one.

“You had a hard day huh?” You murmur sweetly, kissing up the right side of his neck.

All he does is nod, his eyes falling shut as he feels your lips getting closer to his earlobe.

Placing another kiss at his hairline, you slowly kiss along the bottom half of his ear before capturing it between your teeth.

His breath immediately leaves his lips in a shaky mess, his eyes squeezing together as the grip on your hands tightens.

“I think I should help you relax after you’ve worked so hard don’t you?”

He has no idea what you plan to do to him but, he honestly couldn’t give a fuck.

He’s too hard, too wound up and too into to you to ask any meaningful questions.

Jungkook merely nods, not trusting his vocal abilities at the moment as he waits for your next move.

A smirk comes across your face as you suckle lightly on his earlobe, knowing how much he likes it before using your lips to descend back down his neck.

You lean away from him to get a closer look at his expression. Smoothed out in pure pleasure but also tightening slightly at the discomfort brought on by his throbbing dick.

His eyes are still closed as you release your grip on his hands and he keeps them that way even as you move to grip the hem of his t-shirt.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” You tease and he merely grins, shaking his head.

“Then why are your eyes closed?”

He doesn’t open them and instead allows a breathless bit of laughter to leave his lips, sound almost exasperated.

“I feel dizzy.”

His simple responses elicits another desire within you that intensifies your goal to make him feel good.

“In a good way?” You check, playfully pinching his stomach as you slowly pull up his t-shirt.

He goes back to nodding, his hands coming down to assist you with your task. His hair flops haphazardly as the material of his shirt messes with it. You take a moment to admire how incredibly beautiful he is when he settles back against the couch, your mouth going dry at the sight of him. Flushed face, pouted lips, defined muscles and hardened nipples lay before you, and you are a little unsure of where to put your lips first.

Although it doesn’t really matter, your destination is the same regardless.

Deciding on another spot that drives him crazy, you allow your fingers to brush along his ribs before leaning in to kiss over his defined chest. Jungkook’s hands are laying limp against the couch but when he feels your lips nearing his nipple, he turns them so they are able to grip the edge of the couch. Sucking his nipple into your mouth, you let you tongue rub against the peak of it. Jungkook sighs loudly from above you and you can’t help but smirk as he still doesn’t allow himself to moan.

It’s a quirk you’ve noticed and you feel like it’s likely left over from the long-discarded idea that Jungkook has regarding his masculinity. No matter how often you tell him that making noise is perfectly ok (and really hot) he still waits till he can’t help himself.

And to be honest, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy pushing him towards that point.

After you finish kissing his chest, you begin trailing your wet lips down the middle of torso, taking a moment to suck over the soft skin of his not so softly defined stomach.

“All those hours in the gym are really paying off-” You mumble against his skin, brushing your fingers over his abs, “You look so strong...”

At your compliment, his lips part, one side of his mouth turning up in a slight smile.

“I wanna look good for you.”

It’s quite a ridiculous statement really.

Jungkook would look good no matter how many visible abs he had but you know he likes the praise none the less.

So you shower him with it.

“You always look good for me.” You assure him, kissing along the band of his sweatpants now, “I’m proud of you for working so hard.”

He grins a little more, leaving his eyes mostly close but allowing them to peak open a bit to watch you sink to your knees.

“Thank you.”

He swallows back the threat of hyperventilation as he feels you spread his legs, his eyes closing completely once again.

If you weren’t able to make out the sound of his breath picking up, the movement of us chest certainly would have given it away, his pecks heaving a bit as he tries to relax.

But as you begin gently massaging up his legs, Jungkook realizes relaxing might not be possible.

At least not at the moment...

He’s stained the seam of his sweatpants with precum which would upset him if it were any other substance but with his dick being so hard, he really can’t find himself to care about anything else.

Tucking your fingers beneath his sweatpants, you begin tugging them off of his hips, relieved that he isn’t wearing any underwear.

Jungkook takes another deep and shaky breath through his nose, tilting his head back again as he tries to center his thinking.

But you’re kind of driving him insane.

Starting at his knee, you kiss all the way up his inner thigh, taking in the scent of his body- indescribable and mouthwatering, just like him. You stop just before his dick before repeating your actions along the other leg.

Jungkook’s stomach is caving in at the teasing but he does absolutely nothing to urge you further.

He likes the torture.

“Is there anything you want me to do while I'm down here?”

Jungkook bites his bottom lip at your question, knowing that you’re going to make him ask for it but feeling shy regardless.

“Yes.” He breathes

You brush your fingertips over his balls, his hips only slightly twitching at the sensation.

He’s trying to stay calm, not wanting to get so ahead of himself he blows his load before you’ve even started.

“What is it that you want me to do?” You murmur, leaning in to breathe against his length.

You’re expecting him to stall and use every other word to ask for what he wants but instead, he surprises you.

“Suck on it...” He whispers, taking a deep breath before exhaling on the word, “...please.”

Smirking to yourself, you wrap a hand around him- feeling him throb within your grip before kitten licking over the tip of him. After ridding his dick of all the precum, you decide to end his descent into madness and suck him into your mouth.

You start slow, licking up and down the length of him, your core aching at the taste. Jungkook’s nails are digging into the couch cushions as he feels your movements, his teeth starting to chew on the inside of his bottom lip.

Bringing your hand into the mix, you guide a flexible grip up and down up, using your lips to suck on the tip of him, your tongue tracing the curves of his frenulum.

Jungkook’s lips part in awe as he feels the combination of moves on his dick, his toes curling against the shag carpet. He knows that his vision will be swimming but he wants to watch you so badly, he decides to finally open his eyes.

As he predicted, his vision is spotty and the dizziness he felt earlier is nothing compared to the way he feels now.

It all becomes irrelevant though when he locks eyes with you. Your boyfriends normally innocent gaze is completely glossed over with lust, his mouth hanging open as he stares down at you, the same smirk slowly returning to his lips.

Sucking off of him, you use your hand to jerk him off as you address him, “Does it feel good?”

He bites his lip, his face and chest decorated with the flush of arousal as he nods.

“Why are you so quiet then?”

For whatever reason, your question tickles him and drunken giggle bubbles up past his lips,

“’ss too good.” He explains, shaking his head at you, “I don’t know how to say anything...”

Logically, he understands that you aren’t talking about him necessarily saying anything but more so referring to the lack of noise he’s making. However, he knows very well that he’s going to be moaning for you soon, especially when your mouth returns to his dick a second time.

When he feels you palm his balls, his eyes fall shut again, his hips twitching all over the place when you resume both sucking and jerking him off.

Jungkook knows he’s biting his lip really hard when he starts to taste a bit of blood but he doesn’t care, the pleasure he’s experiencing overpowering any semblance of pain.

“Y/N” He whispers, “I’m getting really close.”

His warning makes you swoon because he sounds so desperate and yet he’s being considerate, not wanting to intrude your mouth with the taste of him.

Despite the fact that, that’s all you want.

You merely moan against his length, signaling for him to let go whenever he wants, your speed increasing all the while.

“Fuck...” He whispers again but the word sounds like it got caught in his throat, “Fuck...fuck...fuck.”

Hearing him swear makes the wet disaster in your shorts much worse but you wanna make him cum so badly, you ignore it completely. The sound of him nearing the edge is enough to take him all the way in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him harder.

Finally, he breaks- a whimpering skipping past his lips, one of his hands coming up to cover his mouth. As much as you want him to moan for you, you don’t want to stop your motions long enough to tell him.

He throws his head back against the headrest, his eyes opening wide as he stares up at the ceiling in amazement. His body jerks as the first wave of his release hits your tongue and rope after rope, you swallow everything he gives you, sucking him through his orgasm and until the sensitivity becomes too much and he starts squirming beneath you.

You suck off of him, allowing his softening length to rest against his lower stomach, which is now trembling with his heavy breath.

Jungkook pants, still staring him at the ceiling and while he’s coming down, you kiss along his hips, letting him take his time. Whilst you’re kissing up his happy trail, one of his hands reaches out to brush over your face. Its then you notice that it’s clammy and a bit shaky so, you take a moment to press a kiss over his knuckles, trying to encourage him to look at you.

“You’re shaking.” You whisper and before you know it, you can hear that same drunken giggle coming from his lips again.

Your boyfriend looks down at you, a deep sense of amazement in his eyes as he laughs still, a bit delirious.

“Yeah well-” He shakes his head, still trying to get his wits about him, “You should have a talk with your mouth about that...”

You giggle now, resting your chin on your hand as you admire how fucked-out he looks. His hair is a mess and he is covered in a light layer of sweat and if you’re being honest, you really want to jump his bones all over again. But you know he needs a minute.

“I just wanted to help you relax.” You claim innocently to which he just shakes his head, gesturing for you to get on the couch.

“Come here.”

You scramble up towards him, sitting beside his exhausted body and before you know it, he’s pulling in for a kiss, his smile creeping back when he feels your lips.

“You’re amazing.”

He sounds silly but sincere all at once, kissing softly at your lips before nudging your nose.

You smile back into the kiss, mumbling something of the same nature to him.

The two of you kiss one another for a moment until Jungkook is pulling back, allowing his dark gaze to scan over your face, eyes suddenly full of determination.

“I think it’s time you relax too now, don’t you think?”

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