#i’ve been slowly ironing out some errors over the past couple of months

[ekingston]

I just stumbled upon your You me & holiday wine fic and binged it and may i just say thank you for your service 🫡🫡🫡 that work it’s everything to me and was just so fun to read!! you ate that up

hi hello & thank you so much! it makes me SO happy people are still discovering YMHW in 2024. i’m really glad you enjoyed it, it was a lot of fun to write as well!

[imstillworkingonit]

CR AU: When Jester was not there to answer the door

I fell into the widojest hole about a month ago (literally reactivated my tumblr to follow the tag) and had some FEELINGS about yesterday’s episode and the potential conversations that could have been had if things had been a little bit different. I’ve never attempted fanfiction before, but here’s the AU oneshot for if Jester hadn’t been there to answer Fjord’s knock. I wrote it directly after the episode through the night, so please excuse any glaring characterization errors or typos. This is just what my brain needed to do. (Also, no hate to the budding romance between our handsome half-orc and adorable tiefling—they’re not my favorite ship but they’re still friggin precious.)

>>>>>>

It was not a sudden realization. Jester’s incessant flirting had waned over the past months, and while her initial words had sounded childish to him, the lack thereof was jarring. Fjord missed it. Then came the little moments, where Jester’s light shone so bright it blinded him, even through closed eyelids. She was, indeed, very charming. Hard not to enjoy her company, really.

So when he saw her, frozen in the middle of those stone statues, his world stopped. What is a world without her smile, her laugh, her brightness? Her constant joy that had helped tear him away from the darkness that was his past?

But she came out of it. Shocked, scared, changed, but alive. And then the fear came. The bitter winds of Eiselcross tore through his winter coat, but his body was too warm. The adrenaline that typically came with a fight kicked in, and he began triaging. Gathering information that had cost too much. All the while, in the back of his mind: “I could have lost you.” and “I have to keep you close.” and “I need to tell you how dear you are to me.” So he began rehearsing.

Words had always come easy to him, but there was too much he wanted to say. “I promised your mother I would protect you.” “I don’t want to see you throwing yourself into danger.” “I want to keep you close and never let go.” How far is too far? It took longer than he expected after dinner and the evening’s events and interrogations to properly finalize what he wanted to say. It was the fear in the pit of his stomach that allowed him to spend only a brief few seconds considering what Jester’s response to his declarations would be. Fear, and perhaps a lack of doubt about her response.

Fjord made his way up to the bedroom floors of the tower, and he knocked on her door. “Jester?”

There was no response. He waited for a breath and a half, face hot, and head down, then knocked again. “Jester, are you in there?”

He waited for another minute or so, resisting the desperate curiosity. Is she in there and just doesn’t want to see him? That wasn’t true, was it? But if not, where could she be?

…

After Jester left the tower’s dining area, she went directly to her bathroom. Without looking in the mirror, she carefully shrugged the layers of her winter clothes off and daintily folded them beside her. One at a time. They felt different on her now, somehow wrong. Once they were all removed, Jester slowly brought her eyes up, and made eye contact with herself in the mirror. Moving slowly, she traced the lines of her face. The difference between one’s early twenties and their late twenties isn’t a lot, especially for blue tieflings with pretty rockin’ genetics. It is, however, a lot to see at once.

Her horns were indeed ¾ of an inch longer than they were. She pulled at her hairline, checking for… yes. There they were. A smattering of shimmering silver hairs interspersed with the blue. Not too many, just a couple on each side, but noticeable to her. Her fingers traced down her face. Some of her remaining baby fat had gone—she finally saw her mama’s cheekbones on her own face, and there was also something in her more defined jawline that reminded her of the Gentleman. There were, in addition to the cheekbones, lines on her face for the first time. The tiniest of crows feet, some smile lines around her mouth. Those… those would take some getting used to.

Her hands moved downward, poking and prodding at the skin of her collarbones and down her arms. Her skin feels different. Less hydrated, less springy. Older. Her breasts were fuller, perhaps her hips were as well, but everything just… off. Unrecognizable, even to an artist’s touch.

Her fingers stopped prodding and started scratching, itchy in a blink. This skin, this body, is not really mine. It belongs to some older woman, who just looks exactly like me.

The panic came not just from the change in her body—it also came from the loss of what she could have done with all that time.

How many pranks won’t be pranked because I lost the years that I was going to do them? What if my brain is different too, and that this new future Jester brain, when it catches up, won’t love painting, and dicks, and pranks? What if the Traveller doesn’t bother with me anymore, decides I’ve changed and I’m not fun enough? I got my statue question answered, but how much am I going to lose? Oh... Traveller. What if the Nein only kept me around for my smile, my sunshine? Will I lose that? 

This will pass. This feeling has to pass.

She found herself curled on the bathroom floor, staring into nothing, eyes aching with unshed tears. In half a moment, she was on her feet, groaning with new pains, and grabbing a nightgown and robe. Not her usual, ostentatiously and horrendously pink ones, but a peach-ish set. She stared around at her room, at the winter clothes she’d paid a fortune for, at the corner of the secret Nicodranas painting on the canopy over her bed, and even that felt wrong somehow.

Imposter.

She picked up her sketchbook, but couldn’t find it in herself to open it. What could she say to the Traveller: “Hi Artie, guess what, I just lost five years and I’ll never get them back. I had really great plans for all of my time on the earth and now I’ve lost part of that. I’m still here but I’ve lost part of me. I’m haunted by what the statues gave me and what they took. I can’t get the image of what they showed out of my head, and I’m afraid to show any of my friends anything less than my best new smile because that’s all they need from me.” Yeah, that conversation would go well.

The Traveller wouldn’t understand. No one could. Except… someone who had lost years themselves.

She found herself at Caleb’s door.

…

Caleb couldn’t deny that he appreciated what age had done for Jester’s appearance. She had always been a beautiful woman, but now it was shockingly apparent. He had foolishly blurted that out twice too many times upon the discovery of this change, this loss, as well. But it’s something that she needed reinforced, because gods she’s young—so young—and five years at that age is fifteen for anyone else. Not that he would know, he’d lost that time too.

She seemed fine, though distressed at first, and was back to her cheerful self in short order. The rest of the Nein followed her lead, and all seemed well throughout dinner. Caleb was not keeping a closer eye on Jester throughout dinner, he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but notice that, whenever Jester thought there weren’t any eyes on her, her eyes went dark. Her smile became increasingly hollow as the meal progressed, and she departed quickly. Caleb’s ever-sharp mind immediately reminded him that this was Jester’s facade cracking, just as it had done after the Iron Shepherds. Her steps, as she moved away from the tables, were fragile too, as if she wasn’t sure she could rely on her own feet.

He bid his own goodbyes to the remaining members of the group shortly afterward. He had research to do. For someone as full of life as Jester to lose her youth, her confidence in herself, to be haunted so deeply from the actions taken in the blink of an eye… he knew there had to be a way to reverse it, he just needed to figure out how. Of all the arcane tomes he’d devoured during his early days at the Academy, of all the snippets and scrolls he’d glanced through on the road or in random bookshops, something had to have the answer. He just needed to find it.

In the back of his mind, he was reminded: To show her you love her, but never say it.

“Georg, Cinnamon, Pancake, Rickon, please gather all the compatriots you can, and bring me all research in this tower that may include information on powerful restorative spells accessible to an arcane caster such as, ah, yours truly. Thank you.” The cats nodded in understanding and padded off in search of Caleb’s requested materials.

It was but a few minutes before a parade of amber-colored cats came back through the cat-flaps, each one carrying a tome, a scroll, or a report. Once the cats placed their selections near the small desk in the corner, they disappeared back through the cat-flaps, and Caleb settled down to work. It will be a long night of research, Ermendrud. Buckle in.

Caleb, after no more than twenty one and a half minutes, was broken out of his research reverie by a quiet, brisk knock at the door. “Caleb?” Jester’s voice whispered.

Ah, sheisse. Jester. What could she possibly want from the tower’s resident eccentric and broken old man? What could she possibly want that I have?  “Coming.” Caleb quickly closed and stacked the research materials behind him, and opened the door a crack.

She stood in the doorway with doll-like eyes. Glassy and empty. Her body was slouched, nothing like the confident woman from this morning. She didn’t say a word.

“Ah, Jester. What can I do for you?” She shrugged, looking hollowly past Caleb’s shoulder. A smile flashed across her lips, but not for long. It was a cruel and empty smile, a smile found much more commonly on his own face than on hers. Jester’s facade had finally broken.

It wasn’t that long ago that that hollow look had been plastered on his own face. The Nein had not been together that long. Before them, Caleb had been a cruel and empty man. He knew those eyes, and he knew that smile. Because not long ago that he’d woken up in the sanatorium and realized that he’d lost eleven precious years of life, of learning, of youth. Of pain and suffering and truth and forgiveness. Those eleven years of his would not have been good ones, with the ripples of Ikithon’s effect reverberating, but he still ached with that loss. That loss for Jester, who had so much good, so much passion, so much enthusiasm...five of her years were worth fifty of his.

They stood together in the doorway, living their individual losses, for just over three minutes. Caleb, eventually, shook himself. None of that matters, Ermendrud. She’s here because she knows you’ve experienced something similar. She needs a friend that shares this.

He cleared his throat, voice hoarse with disuse or emotion. “Please, Jester, come in. I have...ah...another story for you. Not a children’s tale this time, but I believe it still has a good ending.”

A faint knocking floated up from the floor below, followed by Fjord’s quiet call of “Jester.” Caleb raised his eyebrows at her, locking eyes with her for the first time since her arrival at his door. Meeting her, hollow stare to hollow stare. She shrugged, shook her head, and moved forward into Caleb’s room, taking her seat on the couch. It hadn’t been too many days since he’d read Der Katenprinz to her, but it seemed like eons now.

Jester looked up from the couch, patting the space next to her. “Fjord, you know… he just wouldn’t really understand. I don’t want to explain it to him. I know I don’t really understand either, and I’m really confused about what I saw today, and what’s going to happen now that I’m… like this.” She gestured to her changed face. “But I don’t think I can talk to him about it without it seeming...childish. You know?”

Caleb nodded, and sat down. They stared off in companionable silence for thirty seven seconds, until he began telling Jester his own story. She’s heard most of it before, but not in order and not all at once. He didn’t skip over anything, but he did spend the most time on his time in the sanatorium, and the time that immediately followed. To share with her how it felt for him, to let her know that feeling the loss of that time was normal. Halfway through his story, her hands started shaking. Steeling himself with a breath, he wrapped his long fingers over hers. She was very cold, he could share his warmth.

Jester looked at him, eyes wide, still innocent, but with an incredible intent on deciphering something. “The change is hard and it’s shocking, Jester, and I’m sorry you must deal with it. I know you must feel wrong, uncomfortable in your own skin and unsure about everything around you.” If he was not holding her hands, he would be scratching his arms.

She nodded, and cleared her throat. “That is...yes. That’s part of it, I think? I know it sounds weird, but I think I might be mourning? Like… all I can think about are all of the things that I could have done with that time. And if losing it will change me enough that no one will like me enough to keep me around anymore. What if the Nein and the Traveller get sick of the new, old me?”

Caleb squeezed her fingers. “These are fair concerns. But no, getting sick of you, at the very least, is impossible. I refuse to speak for the rest of the Nein or your god but I swear I could never get sick of you. And if I did speak for them, they would say the same. You’re the group’s smile, Jester, but you’re also its heart. Its soul. You’re an incredibly powerful woman who can play tricks on and kick the asses of incredibly powerful creatures. I would fo-- hmmm.”

“Yes, Caleb?”

“Ah, well… I would follow you anywhere. I trust your judgement. You see the world and everyone in it in a unique light, and it is incredible to behold. I-- we are lucky to have you. It is difficult not to lo-- care for you, no matter who you grow into. And I will strive to ensure your days for the foreseeable future are filled with enough adventure and entertainment to make up for the lost ones. I can enlist the Chaos Crew to assist.” A wry grin appeared at the corner of his mouth, just for a second.

Jester looked down at her hands, completely enveloped by Caleb’s. They’re no longer shaking.

“And that is the short-term. I swear on my spellbook and on your holy symbol that I will do everything in my power to get the time back for you, to restore the years you’ve lost. I have already begun the research.” Caleb gestured back to the stack of pages and books spilling across the desk.

The ghost of a furrowed brow passed across Jester’s face, then something that resembled a smile. “Caleb, as your first act of helping me... will you please make your room look like Hupperdook, like you did while we were eating the other day?” 

Three seconds passed as Caleb swallowed the request, then nodded. “Uhhh… ja, of course.” He used major illusion to again replicate Hupperdook’s tavern as closely as possible—with the exception of the fireworks. Some sparks were of pink dicks and green cloaks, some were red books and orange cats. There were some multicolored cats wearing cloaks, or playing with dicks. And there was a single book with a small dick in the corner of the page. The page for the spell “Friends.”

Jester’s eyes lit up the tiniest bit watching the animated illusion, and Caleb couldn’t help but admire how the illusory fireworks sparked and crackled in her eyes. A sudden courage gripped him as he pulled Jester to her feet. “As my second act of assistance, Jester… I would like us to revisit the waltz. So you can enjoy a dance with an individual who does not have two left feet, and who is not more booze than man, and know that you are still just as capable and as erapturing as you were those many months ago.”

A giggle escaped from Jester’s lips, and he could see her again, putting together the pieces and cautiously probing the new shape of the world. Caleb inclined his head to his dance partner, and she pulled his arms into the dance’s starting position. Caleb, with a nod to the tower surrounding them, started the music as the steps began. They danced in companionable silence for precisely eight minutes and twelve seconds, gazing contentedly at the illusion around them and at their dance partner before them. Caleb tried to avoid looking at Jester too closely, but he couldn’t help but notice a darker purple flush high on her cheeks. A trick, perhaps, or a product of the surrounding illusion.

On that thirteenth second of the ninth minute, Jester shifted her hand from cupping his shoulder to looping around his neck, and removed her hand from his, only to wrap it around his waist. Her head now rested plainly on his chest, directly over his fast-beating heart.

“You know, Caleb, you’re pretty okay for being a stinky wizard.”

Caleb froze, but only for a second. His arms moved to hold her in a light embrace, their bodies fitting together like a slightly-fractured puzzle. The dancers just started to sway in place. “Ah, I would like to think so. Okay is good. You know, you will be alright Blueberry.”

With her head to his chest, Caleb could make out her quiet words, and the true smile on her face: “It will take time, I think. And help. But I hope so.” She paused for a moment. “And Cayleb? This is a good ending to your story.”

[salvejoon]

Soft & Shy - jjk | M

⇒ Summary: You and Jungkook take the next step in your relationship but there’s something he hasn’t told you yet.

⇒ Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

⇒ Genre: Fluff and smut.

⇒ Rating: 18+

⇒ Word count: 5.7k

⇒ Warnings: oral (male receiving) dry humping, grinding, unprotected sex (wrap it up my dudes), soft sex, undertones of dom!reader and sub!Gookie, it’s just a soft mess, Gookie is a good boy for his Noona, slight Noona kink.

⇒ A/N: Hello you beautiful bastards! I am back with another ramble jamble and I hope you guys like it! Unedited for now.

Tagging: @sugarly-laysa​ @pars-ley​ @ditttiii​ 

Nervous hands grasped your hips and you smiled. Hot breath fanned past your ear and goosebumps spread on your skin. A soft chuckle rumbled against your back and you put your hands above the ones on your hips, interlacing your fingers. Your hips swayed to the beat of the music and the person behind you followed effortlessly, keeping your bodies close and in-sync to the rhythm. 

Then one of the hands moved to your ass and gently groped.

You grinned and released your hands, turning around to face the person you were currently dancing with. Big doe eyes stared back at you and they widened when you put your arms around his neck, his cheeks getting flushed at the new closeness and while you smiled up at him, he seemed to have trouble finding a new spot to place his hands.

Oh, how sweet and shy Jeon Jungkook was. 

Right from the moment you had met him, he had been shy and mildly awkward. Which had made your teaching sessions a little bit stiff in the beginning. The Idol had reached out to you through your mutual friend, Namjoon, for English lessons. You had been shocked and had stared at the email for about 20 minutes before calling Namjoon. It wasn’t like Jungkook didn’t know English and was adequate but he had insisted that he wanted to get better. 

Enter you, an English Professor at Seoul National University. 

It was quite simple really: all you had to do was have a weekly tutoring session of 2 hours but because of his busy schedule, it had to be over video calls. 

The first video conference had been so awkward and filled with long pauses of silence and it was just so cringe. It was clear to you that he was really shy about speaking English and he was shy talking to you. 

Namjoon had warned you that the poor boy interacted with women in a funny way but you just had to get him to warm up to you. 

So, you always began the sessions with greeting him in Korean and have him talk about his day in his native language before moving onto teaching. You still didn’t understand why Jungkook felt like he needed a tutor because his English was fine. It wasn’t perfect and could get better but it was enough. 

One day you asked him why he had sought you out and he told you it was because he felt bad that Namjoon was always the one who did most of the talking when they were abroad. He wanted to help his friend by easing that burden. He wanted to be able to interact more with their international fans without fearing making a spelling error or having to use a translator. 

That’s when you got the feeling that below that shy and awkward exterior was a sweet and caring soul. 

“Hey handsome.” You said, feeling him stiffen when you kissed his jaw, “I was wondering when you’d join me. I’ve been feeling lonely out here all by myself.”

Jungkook’s hands finally found a spot to be, your midsection and you wondered why he hadn’t placed them on your hips as earlier, “H-hey.” He stammered and you leaned back a little and smiled up at him. He looked so flustered, even in the dim lighting of the club and his eyes were everywhere except on you. 

“You can grab my hips, y’know.” You drawled and grabbed his wrist, moving his hands down to your denim clad hips.

He swallowed thickly. 

As the lessons continued, Jungkook had slowly opened up to you. You found out that he liked to workout, which really came as no surprise because he was quite muscular. He liked video editing, drawing and he even showed you a couple of doodles, he liked reading comics and he was a big fan of Iron Man. 

He was also a walking, talking meme but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. 

But what really had brought the two of you closer were your shared love for gaming. Oh boy, when Jungkook had found out that you played video games, all teaching had went out the window and it became an interrogation of what games you played.

He hadn’t looked happy when you told him you didn’t play PUBG and gave him the reason that you didn’t want to listen to 14 year olds screaming into your ear that they fucked your mum. 

You remember how flustered he had gotten when you had thrown the f-bomb so casually. So sweet and innocent.

“I… Uhm… Missed you.” Jungkook told you with a shy smile. You hummed in response and the music changed to a slower but heavier beat, “And you looked so…” He trailed off and you noticed how his eyes ventured lower.

“So what?” You drawled.

“Hot.” 

You bit your lip, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. You had chosen well when you had dressed up for tonight, “Thank you. You look quite hot yourself.” 

And he was fucking hot in those ripped black jeans that just tightly covered his muscular thighs and his ass and with that stupidly gray t-shirt that just hugged his upper body like a hand-fitted and tailor made shirt.

But the leather boots topped the whole look off. You wanted said boots to step on you. 

Perhaps it was the change in music, the alcohol in your systems or the way you both looked at each other with hunger but something changed in the way you danced. Swaying turned into him grabbing your hips tightly, bringing you flush against his pelvis and you fought back a moan when he guided your hips to grind against him. 

Sweet and innocent Jungkook was currently nowhere to be seen.

Jungkook began calling you up outside of your weekly sessions so the two of you could play games together. You often ended up playing something he wanted which was usually Overwatch. That was when you had discovered that he had a competitive streak and that he was a sore loser. 

God, how you had whooped his sucky ass Symmetra main with your Ashe. Get gud, son, or get wrecked.

You had no idea the man could curse like that, considering when you so much as said the word ‘fuck’, he would get all flustered. 

After a few gaming sessions, you had finally gotten to chose the game the two of you would play and seeing as you loved shooters and horror, why not a zombie game? 

Oh boy, you still regretted that. Never in your life had you heard a man scream so loud. 

Jungkook was apparently also a scaredy cat.

You felt him nose at your ear, his unsteady breathing making you shiver. It was getting hot, too hot but you didn’t dare move away from him. He was almost vibrating and you wondered if you would have bruises left from how tight he was grabbing your hips. Then he placed a thigh between your legs and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you this time. Your arms tightened around his neck, drawing him ever closer and he captured your lips with a whine. 

Namjoon had told you that Jungkook had really improved over the course of your tutoring. It made you happy to hear but also sad because the tutoring was over. Jungkook had sneakily wormed his way into your heart and you would be straight out lying if you said you hadn’t developed a crush on him. 

There was just the problem that he would never feel the same. Not when he had millions of other women, some much more fitting than you, begging him, seeking his attention. 

It had also taken a lot of you to admit your feelings for him because he was an Idol and was therefore, unattainable, then there was the fact that he was younger than you and not only by 1 or two years but 5 years and your experience with younger men was, mildly put, not great. 

He was at the peak of his career while you… You had other thoughts for your future than he had for his. 

The last video call the two of you had, had been an uneasy one. You hadn’t tutored much and had simply listened to Jungkook talking about the last concert they’d had in the States. He was so happy and he glowed and it made your heart do all sorts of jumps in your chest. 

Jungkook was also very perceptive and he had surprised you when he had asked why you were sad. 

You decided to be honest and told him that you were saddened that the two of you would part ways. He told you that the two of you would not part ways but now he was free to treat you as a friend and not a teacher. 

That had stung a bit. 

He surprised you again by asking you out for dinner to thank you properly for helping him… And to finally meet up in person. 

You happily agreed.

Your hands grabbed the hair at his nape and Jungkook groaned into the kiss, giving you the chance to snake your tongue into his mouth and he met it timidly with his own. His hands clenched and unclenched while you made out on the dance floor, bodies still grinding against each other. A familiar heat spread in your abdomen and it slowly clouded your mind. 

“Noona…” He breathed as you drew back and looked into his eyes: they were blown out, almost black. 

“Don’t call me that.” You sighed and licked your lips, “It does weird things to me.” 

The dinner was at a small but slightly more expensive restaurant, close to their dorm. It offered him and you a bit of safety and privacy. When you had seen the place, how luxurious it was, you knew there was no way in hell your card would go through once you had to pay.

Jungkook showed up looking handsome as ever in a pair of ripped jeans, a white t-shirt with a black cardigan and black sneakers. 

He looked like such a boyfriend. Except yours. 

You felt underdressed in your retail skirt and frailed blouse. Jungkook didn’t agree and told you that you looked pretty. It was the first time he had called you anything of the sort and he had done so with blushing cheeks. 

The attraction you had felt for him grow over the past few months of tutoring him only increased ten fold during that dinner. To sit across from him, seeing his doe eyes in real life and not through a screen, to be able to hear his laugh clear as day and to be able to touch him. It was a dream come true. 

He had thanked you so many times for being his tutor and you had waved him off, telling him that it was nothing but to him it was a lot. He was so sweet and such a gentleman that evening and the two of you had left the restaurant in good moods. 

Until he grabbed your hand and tugged you along for a stroll underneath the darkening sky of Seoul. 

He didn’t let go of your hand, even when you reached your car. Shyly, he had shifted on his feet, kicking the asphalt beneath them, rubbing his neck with his free hand and you waited for him to say something. 

Y/N… Noona, I like you. I have for a while. 

Needless to say, those weren’t words you had expected to hear but you had tugged him closer to you and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek.

I like you too, Jungkook. Coffee next week? 

That was the beginning of you dating Jeon Jungkook. 

Now, two months into your dating, you wondered if the two of you would ever leave that stage of dating and actually become a couple officially. But you had promised him and yourself to take it slow because of his lifestyle and because you didn’t want to rush into another relationship that would only end up breaking your heart.

Yet after a month of dating you could already say you had fallen in-love with him. 

Your lips grazed his and when he bent down to try and capture them, you leaned back with a small smile, “It’s getting late.” 

Jungkook blinked a few times, as if trying to clear his mind, “B-but…”

“No buts, baby.” You grabbed his hand and led him away from the dance floor, towards the exit. Behind you, Jungkook was pouting but he followed you obediently. The haze he’d been in while dancing with you was slowly lifting, allowing him to think somewhat clear thoughts. He didn’t want to go home to the dorm. He didn’t want to part from you already. He didn’t think he would survive another date night ending up with the two of you parting ways. 

He wanted you so much, it ached. He ached to touch you in ways he had never touched anyone before but there was just one problem… Well, two really. He was so damn shy and had a hard time voicing his desire. 

And he had never had sex. 

A fact you didn’t know. 

Jungkook was so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed you hailing a cab and were standing in front of him, it wasn’t until you waved a hand in front of his eyes that he noticed what was happening. 

“You okay?” You asked with a tilt of your head. You still held his hand tightly in yours, your thumb caressing it slowly. 

He realized that he had to push past his insecurities if he wanted to take things further with you. He bent down and captured your lips, the sudden kiss making you gasp and he pulled you to him, his free hand grabbing your nape. 

“Jungkook - mhm - the cab…”

“I don’t want to go home.” He said, surprised at how steady his voice was, “I don’t want to leave you.” 

“What are you saying?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“I want to go home… With you.” 

You were at a loss for words. Sure, you had wanted to hear him say those words for months but now that you’ve heard them, you were unsure of how to proceed because if he came home with you tonight, there was no way that you could keep your hands to yourself. 

You would have a hard time with it, anyhow. 

“Baby, are you sure?” 

“I am.” He nodded curtly before flashing you a tiny smile, “Noona.” His smile widened at how your pupils expanded at the word.

“And you aren’t drunk?” 

“I’ve had two beers, Y/N.” 

“I just want to make sure you aren’t making a decision that you’re going to regret, Gookie.” 

Jungkook pecked your lips and stepped onto the asphalt, opening the sidedoor of the cab, “Ladies first.” He helped you inside the cab and entered it himself. You told the driver your address and he drove off. 

The nervousness returned tenfold in the cab and Jungkook was shifting in the seat, biting his lower lip nervously as he stole glances at you. You looked so calm as you looked out the window, the street lights illuminating your face as you drove pass them. He swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in his throat. 

“Are you nervous?” You asked with a side glance. 

“A-A little.” 

You reached out with your hand and you grabbed his larger one, noticing how sweaty his palm was, “I can tell. We can make him drop you off at the dorm if-”

“No. I want you, Y/N.” 

It was now your turn to blush. Such bold words coming from sweet and shy Jungkook made the heat in your abdomen flare and your spine tingled. 

Did he have any idea how fucking hot that was? 

You nodded, “Okay.”

Only a few more blocks to go.

-

You unlocked your front door and switched on the light in the hallway. Jungkook followed close behind you, still looking nervous. You brushed past him to lock the door again and his cologne caressed your senses. 

Christ, he smelled so good. You wanted to whimper. 

He took off his shoes and waited for you to hang up your coat but as you turned and your eyes fell on him, your gaze heady and strong, taking in his slightly trembling form, eyes honing in on how he chewed that poor bottom lip of his in anticipation… Your coat fell from your hand as you crossed the distance between the two of you, grabbing the front of his t-shirt as you pulled him flush up against you, your lips crashing together, a messy dance of more teeth than tongue. You backed him up against the back wall of the entrance hallway and on impact, he yelped into the kiss but you swallowed the sound. 

Jungkook couldn’t form a single word in his mind as your tongue massaged his and grinded your body against his. It felt different from the other times you’d had a make-out session. 

It was hungry. 

Your hands ventured lower until they found his belt but that was when something snapped in him.

“Wait.” 

You stopped immediately and looked up at him, puzzled, “Did I do something wrong?” You asked worriedly, afraid that you’d done something wrong. 

He shook his head, “I-I just…” He gently pushed you away from him and took your hands into his, “Can we talk?” He asked before bringing your hands to his lips, kissing them. 

“S-Sure.” You nodded, feeling the mood change as you led him to the living room and turned on the table lamp next to your couch. Jungkook sat down with a small sigh and was quick to hold your hands again when you sat down next to him. 

“Is there something wrong, Jungkook?” You asked him, your tone serious but a little wavy. Had you scared him? Did he feel like you had pushed him? It had been his idea but you wouldn’t do anything if he didn’t want it. 

“No. Nothing’s wrong, Y/N.” He shook his head. 

“If you don’t want to anything, we can just go to bed. I can take the couch.” You offered and he let out a huff, “I’m serious. If you feel like I’ve come on to strong or felt like I’ve pushed you then I’m sorry.” 

“What? No, babe. It’s not that. I want you so badly but I have something to tell you.” 

You froze when he said that and he noticed immediately. Your heart hammered in your chest in anticipation. 

“I-I’ve never…” 

“Never what, baby?” 

“Done it.”

“... Done it?” 

He groaned at your confused expression, “Had sex, Y/N. I’ve never had sex.” 

“Oh. Oh.” You leaned back slightly and shifted your gaze from his face to your intertwined hands, “Oh.”

“That’s all you have to say? ‘Oh’?” He sounded annoyed and you looked up at him again. So that was the reason why he had never suggested staying over at your place even when you had openly invited him. 

He was a virgin. 

It was like you were hit with a bat of desire at the revelation. One of the most attractive bachelors, one which had rows upon rows of women wanting to fuck him, of which he could just pick and choose as he pleased… Chose you to be his first.

“Do you not want me anymore?” He then asked and gone was the annoyed tone. Instead his tone sounded defeated, unsure, scared.

“Oh baby.” You smiled at him and let go of his hands to cup his face, “Of course I want you. I lo-” You stopped and instead cleared your throat, “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” 

He kissed the palm of your hand and smiled, “That makes me happy. You make me happy.” 

His sweet words only stoked the fire that was in the pit of your stomach, spreading to the rest of your body, “I don’t care about that.” You moved and Jungkook stiffened as you sat on top of him, straddling his thighs, “I’m happy that you told me.” You whispered before kissing him. 

You gently caressed his lips with your own, your hands moving down his chest to the hem of his t-shirt, “Can I?” You asked against his lips as you tugged at his shirt and when he nodded, you lifted it over his head, letting it fall from your hand next to the couch as your eyes drank in his upper body. 

You licked your lips, “Damn.” 

“Is there something wrong?”

“Not at all. I’m just taking in the view.” 

“D-Don’t tease me, Noona.” 

You sought his mouth again and Jungkook whimpered into the kiss as your hands glided across his skin of his stomach, feeling the muscles beneath twitch and up to his chest. 

He flinched when your fingers grazed his right nipple. It hardened under your gentle pinching and he let out a whine when you dragged your lips from his mouth and began kissing down to his jaw, nibbling softly. 

You moved further down to his neck and you watched as his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. You wanted to mark his pretty neck with love bites, so your lips latched onto the skin, sucking and his hips bucked up against you as he let out a gasp. 

“Noona,” He whined, his fingers straining against the fabric of your blouse, “You too.” 

You hummed in response and drew back, lifting your blouse over your head and you had to fight a chuckle at how his eyes widened at the sight of your bra-clad breast. You moved your hands behind your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall down your arms slowly as you kept gauging his reaction. 

The gentle thud of it falling to the floor made him gulp. 

Without speaking a word, you took one of his hands and led it to your left breast, biting your lip when his large hand cupped it, his thumb gliding over the nipple. 

“Am I doing okay?” He asked, glancing up at your face and when he saw you nod, he cupped your other breast as he leaned down to take your left nipple into his mouth, causing you to cry out and grind down against him. 

Your eyes fluttered close as Jungkook slowly sucked on your nipple, your hips acting on their own accord as they grinded against the hardness in his jeans. A particular roll of your hips made his hips buck and you moaned loudly when it bumped against your clit. 

The two of you grinded against each other while he lavished your breasts, licking, tugging at your nipples until they hardened. 

“Fuck.” You murmured and suddenly pushed him back against the couch, causing his lips to release your nipple with a wet pop, “Sit back and enjoy.” You told him as he gazed up at you with blown out eyes and saliva on his lips. 

“What do you - oh shit - Y/N.” Jungkook watched with slightly wide eyes as you descended to sit on the floor, between his legs, your hands hovering above his belt while you looked up at him pleadingly. 

“Can you take them off?” You asked with a sweet smile and he nodded. Your hands undid his belt and you sat back as he slowly unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper, pushing his jeans down to mid-thigh. 

You felt saliva pool on your tongue as you saw the bulge in his trousers. The outline was big and there was a dark spot where he had leaked some precum. 

He twitched when your index finger ran along his cock, following the shape of it, until it reached the head and your fingers sought out his trousers, gently tugging at the elastic band holding them up. 

“Take them off for me, baby.” You coaxed, looking up at him. He looked so cute from where you sat: cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen, his jaw set tight as he processed your words. Patiently, you waited as he shoved down his trousers to his pants and you scooted over so that he could take everything off completely. 

Now you gulped because what was in front of you was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. It was slightly darker than the rest of his skin, the head was mushroom-shaped, colored in an angry red. The thick vein that ran on the underside of it made your mouth water. 

“D-Don’t stare at it like that…” He murmured and shifted on the couch nervously. The look you had on your face was scary. 

It looked like you were about to eat him whole. 

You chuckled softly, “Does my staring make you nervous, Gookie?” He curtly nodded at your question, “Oh baby. I’m going to take good care of you. Just sit back and relax.” 

“Okay.” 

“Tell me if it doesn’t feel good.” 

Your hand grabbed it, thumb gliding over the head, spreading the wetness and above you, Jungkook hissed out a ‘fuck’. You licked your lips as you moved your hand up and down a few times, your eyes flicking back and forth between his cock and his face.

His hands were clenching and unclenching at his side as he watched you place a kiss to the tip before opening your mouth, taking him in, “Ahh.”

You closed your eyes and let your jaw go slack, slowly taking him in further, carefully listening to the sounds he made. Your tongue swirled around the head a few times before you surprised him by swallowing his length whole, causing him to let out a loud whine. 

“Y/N…” Jungkook arched his back as your mouth moved back up his cock, tongue licking the thick vein on the underside, “Please.” 

You hummed, the vibrations causing a slew of curses to escape his mouth. The sounds he was making went straight to your core and you resisted the urge to put a hand down your pants to give yourself some much needed relief. 

This was about Jungkook. 

Instead you squeezed your thighs together, trying to alleviate the pressure building. He whined when you swallowed, the sensation of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You glanced up and saw him raise a hand to his mouth, biting into it, muffling the pretty sounds.

You withdrew from his cock and he let out a frustrated whine, “I want to hear you, baby.”

“But it’s so loud and I-”

“I want to hear you.” His cock twitched in your hand at your commanding tone and you raised a brow: so Gookie liked being told what to do. 

“Yes, Noona.” 

Oh, you were going to ruin him. 

“Good boy.” 

You descended on him again and he let his head fall back against the couch as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. He felt like something was ready to snap inside of him and he tried to relax and let the sensation wash over him when you suddenly stopped. 

“No!” He huffed, looking down at you desperately, “Why’d you stop? It felt so good, Noona, please…” 

“I know, baby, but what’s next is much better.” You stood back up and leaned down to place a kiss on his lips. He had a pout when you drew back, “Don’t pout, Gookie. I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Promise?” 

“Of course, baby.” 

Your hands went to your jeans and your fingers unbuttoned them, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. You dragged them down to your feet and stepped out of them and the man before you groaned as he saw your ruined lace panties, your wetness clinging to the fabric as you pulled them down as well and shoved the pile away with a foot. 

You ran a hand from your breasts down to your center, hissing softly when you ran a finger through the wetness there, “See how wet you’ve made me, baby?”

“But I haven’t done anything.” He said, voice shaking. 

You smirked and climbed on top of him, keeping eye-contact as you put your finger into your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue. Jungkook whimpered as you moaned above him, “Noona, don’t tease me.” 

“I’m not, sweety.”

“Yes you are.”

“My pouty baby.” You kissed him languidly as you let your weight rest on his thighs, his cock trapped between your bodies, “You’re so cute.” 

“Y/N.” He groaned and drew back, “Please.” 

“What do you want, Gookie? Tell me.” You asked as you snaked a hand down between your bodies, grabbing his cock, moving it so it was under you and you smirked when he whined loudly as the head grazed your soaked cunt, “I want to hear it.” 

“I… I want to be inside you.” He strained out, hands moving to grasp at your hips as you ran his cock between your folds, “Please, please, please.” 

You keened at his begging, “Good boy.” You kissed him one last time before settling back, aligning his member with your entrance, “You ready, baby?” You asked, taking one last look at his face and once you saw his nod, you slowly descended onto him, “Fuck.” You mumbled, the stretch burning slightly as you’d had no preparation but you loved it. 

“Ah, it’s so tight.” He huffed out as your hips settled against his, “But it feels good.” 

You smiled at him as he looked up at you, his doe eyes sparkling in the dim lighting and your heart leaped at the emotions in the dark depths. You moved your hands up his neck, to his face, caressing his soft cheeks with your thumbs as you leaned down to kiss him. 

“Noona.” He sighed happily into your mouth, fingers grabbing your hips, trying to get you to move, “Move.” 

“So impatient.” You huffed but leaned your upper body back, your left hand finding steady purchase on his thigh and you lifted your body up, seeing how Jungkook’s eyes ventured down to where you were joined and you sat back down. He hissed at the motion and you did a few times, slowly moving up and down his cock, finding a steady and slow rhythm. 

You moaned loudly when you felt him begin to push up against you, meeting your thrusts with his own, “Jungkook.” 

His eyes snapped up to yours and he took in your expression each time the both of you moved. Your skin had a rosy hue to it and it glistened in the light. To him, you had never looked more beautiful as right now, on top of him, riding him so sensually. 

He was so whipped for you. 

“You feel so good, baby.” You praised, sitting back down harshly, causing him to cry out and you began to gyrate your hips, “So fucking good.” 

He moved his hands to your ass and squeezed the soft globes, helping you move, “You do too, Noona.” 

You threw your head back when his hips bucked and his cock hit a particular soft, fleshy spot inside you, “Do it again, baby.” 

He nodded and began fucking up into you, groaning when he felt your walls clench around him, “W-What’s happpening?” 

You didn’t answer him, instead moaning out your pleasure loudly, which only spurred on Jungkook and his thrusts got faster and harder and every time he hit that fleshy spot at just the right angle. The heat in your belly spread to your legs and you trembled as you got closer to the edge. 

“Don’t fucking stop.” You whimpered, moving a hand to claw at his shoulder, “Don’t you fucking dare stop.” 

He groaned when your walls clenched around him, this time tighter than before, “Are you cumming, Noona?” He asked, gauging your face, “I can feel your walls clench around me.” 

Your spine tingled and you let out a whine as you surged forward, your arms going around his neck as he picked up his pace even more, causing you to bite his shoulder. 

“I’m so close.”

“Me too, baby.” 

Then the sneaky bastard moved a hand from your ass and between your slicked bodies and he found your clit, causing you to stiffen in his arms as he applied pressure to the hardened nub. The heat exploded and your body went stiff as you let out a scream into the junction of his neck and shoulder, your legs spasming beside him and your cunt danced around him as you came. 

Jungkook let out a cry as he thrust a few times and pulled out, just in time before his cum spurted out and onto your bodies. He kept on letting out soft whines and whimpers as he came down from his high. 

Breathing raggedly, you hugged him tighter to you and felt his arms go around you, his face pressed up against your breasts, “That was amazing.” He huffed. 

“It was. You did so well, Gookie.” You said as you nuzzled his neck, “So good.” 

“You did too, Noona.” He pushed you back so he could look at you, his hands gently removing hair from your face, “I’m glad it was you. Thank you.” 

You smiled and leaned into his hand, “No, thank you for letting me be your first, baby.” 

He smiled a little as his thumb caressed your cheek and he stared into your eyes, “I wanted you to be my first because…” He paused and leaned forward, his hand falling to your shoulder as he hid his face against your shoulder, “Because I’m in love with you, Y/N.” 

“You’re going to be the death of me, Jeon Jungkook.” You grabbed his face and moved it so you could look at him, “Don’t say that and hide away.” 

“But-”

“No buts. I want to look into your eyes when I tell you,” You quickly pecked his lips and then squeezed his cheeks together, “That I am in-love with you too.” He tried to speak but with his face squished, it only came out a muffled mumble, “Idiot.” 

He growled, grabbed your ass and stood up, causing you to yelp and swing your legs around his narrow waist, “What are you doing?” You asked, your hands grabbing his shoulders. 

“This idiot is moving to the bedroom.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to make love to my girlfriend.” 

“Ew. How sappy.” 

“Shut up, Noona.”

[peacefulwriter88]

Belong To You

Chris Beck x PoC One Shot

Chris Beck, you decided was the worst. You were going to cut off his legs and watch him slowly bleed to death. No, you were going to chop off his dick. No, you were going to chop of his dick and his arms so he didn’t have the ability to doodle his stupid equations all over random pads of paper in your shared apartment.

You thought this as you pushed yourself out of the restaurant, into the busy chaos of the Brooklyn sidewalk, the humidity hitting you with a ferocity in the waning twilight.

You heard your name but you tried to ignore it, ignore him as you walked out toward the streets edge, the traffic hurling past you and causing the remnants of the north wind to tighten your jacket closer to you. You could just leave him. You’d only been dating him for two years – it couldn’t hurt. You were young enough you could wrangle some guy to love you as much as he did, knock you up with some kiddos and live a picture perfect life.

As you turned, taking in his tall frame as he tried to navigate clumsily past waiters, the hostess, you knew you couldn’t do any of that.

You loved Chris Beck. Your heart belonged to him.

Had loved him ever since he sat next to you in organic chemistry, your heart belonging to the lanky blue eyed genius as he thrusted his hand out to you. You were going to leave the class, walk down to the registrar’s office and demand to be put in anything that wasn’t this mental purgatory on earth. You had only chosen it because it was the only science class left over and you wanted to get your science credits out of the way. After reviewing the syllabus in your seat, you knew the error in your ways and was about to scoot out when he sat next to you. 

He had always been a goddamn pain in your ass.

Couldn’t have dated you while you were in college. No – you both were too fucking awkward and insecure for that. Then he had to go off and become this brilliant scientist – spending the next 12 years in the army, getting into NASA before he finally landed a few trips to space. Had become accomplished and successful while you stayed on earth, ironically working in policy that low and behold dealt with space policies and environmental research. Spent too many years dating losers and getting drunk with girlfriends all the while wondering how Beck had managed to get you to move down to Florida with him for a while, both of you being mutual roommates while he continued to explore the world – discover himself. Tried everything to try to cleanse him from your soul but you couldn’t because Beck was a part of you, got under your skin. You did the same for him – it was why he always came pawing back to you whenever he was free, wanting to spending every hour staying in connection with you.

That was how the love affair had unraveled. After his last message, the great rescue of Watney, he had been done of space. Tired of the politics behind space research and wanted to come back to earth, to continue to explore and learn and discover in the great mystery that space was but unable to continue to live in an isolated world millions away from others.

From you.

So he had swooned you, convinced you once again to move to New York with him but this time as his girlfriend, his equal – his true partner in crime. And though you argued with him for it for days, reminding him that you weren’t the kind of woman who made decisions for a man, you ultimately did and a small piece of you still hated yourself for it.

Except when you got to New York, things had truly changed. Beck had been serious about your relationship. Went grocery shopping with you and helped with making meals and taking out the trash Carved out date nights with you and wouldn’t argue back if you dragged him to another one of your friend’s couples brunch.

Though he traveled all the time, either doing research or lectures, he tried to make time for you. Whether it was late night Facetime calls or random snaps – he’d try to carve out just a bit of time so you knew he was thinking about you. There were a lot of things he could do better – like putting the toilet down or doing the dishes or keeping better track of his schedule but he was human and you let it slide. There were plenty of things he could equally argue about you.

Until he had suspiciously asked you out to dinner with some of his friends. Normally you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Except when you rounded the corner, expecting your normal group of friends you frequently dined with, you had instead been bombarded with the EVA crew – Beth included in the group.

That was all you needed. He knew how you felt about her. You knew how she felt about you. She hated you for always having his heart and you hated her for having it for far longer than you cared to acknowledge. The relationship was mutual.

Except, Beck in typical fashion hadn’t warned you. Had warned her, you noticed by the short sneer on her face, but not you.

Fucking Beck.

So you didn’t even bother to make your presence known. She’d been the only one to see you and you knew that she’d let Beck know. She loved being the cause of fights between the both of you, whether she was in a relationship or not. Loved it because it meant they were both miserable and she for once wasn’t.

“Y/N stop!”

He’s caught up to you, grabbing your arms and pulling you toward him. Then he curses under his breath, his eyes concerned as he looks down at your level, his eyes worried,

“Oh don’t…..don’t cry Y/N. What’s wrong? What happened? Did something bad happen at work?”

You didn’t realize you had been crying and you push at him, though the tears are coming faster because you’re so mad at him and even more mad that he doesn’t even know why you’re so upset.

“No nothing bad happened at work. Why didn’t you tell me we were having dinner with the EVA crew?”

He frowns, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Didn’t I?” he asks and you shake your head as you bite your lip.

“You know….I don’t care who you hang with Chris. I don’t care what you do. I trust you but goddamn you don’t even warn me about Beth being there. You know we don’t like each other and you know it’s because of you. You warned her about me but you never – I swear to god – you never warn me about her. Why is that?”

“What do you mean? I tell you all the time when I’m around her!” he counters, and you shake your head, crossing your arms.

“No you don’t Beck! You always tell her things first and then I find out days later, thanks to other friends or social media. You never share things with me but it never seems to be a problem with Beth – with anyone! Why do you box me out?!”

You know you are probably overacting, that if you had slept more than four hours each night that week and dragged your ass to the gym this morning, you’d have fake smiled through it. But he had been away for three weeks, on a press tour with the whole crew and you had missed him terribly and feared that he would realize what he missed in Beth, being around the petite genius for the extended period of time and leave you for her.

Wasn’t your finest moment, you’d like to believe that you weren’t defined by a man and yet here you were. But that doesn’t matter now. You were feeling how you felt and you couldn’t stop it.

 “I didn’t think to tell you because of the tour. Figured you’d assume…” he’s still watching you with concern, his arms drawing you closer to him as he wraps them around your body.

You want to punch him in his stupid chest but you can’t help but let his cologne consume your senses, your body relaxing in his embrace as your face presses into his chest. He strokes your back gently as the tears pour out, because he knows that everything you are saying is right.

It isn’t intentional. It’s just what happens when you spend five years living with another human being. All of his life had been dictated by the people in the confined space of the shuttle and he didn’t know how to let anyone else in. Even you, who he had known all of his adult life. You had been patient, every time you had tried to pull away and start a life of your own he had selfishly pulled you back.

He knew that you were right. He was a selfish prick.

He just was afraid to let you in completely. Afraid that you would see that he really was a nerdy, awkward white dude and that you deserved better.

“I know that I’ve been a selfish asshole basically…probably since I asked you to move down to Florida with me.”

“That’s true.” You mutter in his chest and he chuckles as his grip tightens around you and he whispers in your ear.

“But I love you so much Y/N. I wish you could understand that I’m still trying to figure out how to operate in this world while not losing what my life has been for 10 years. I….” he stops, pulling away and looking down at you. You had gone out of your way, he knew, with your makeup, had dolled up your hair. The fitted dress you were wearing popped against your skin, glimpses of it peaking out of your pea coat. You looked gorgeous, had gone out of your way just for him.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else because you’ve always been home.”

Your eyes are furrowed together, and you sigh as you shake your head.

“I love you too Chris but I just…I can’t do this. Where you fuck up and I forgive you and then it’s good for two months until you’re getting pulled away. You’re never around, never around to fight for me or get to know me, beyond the glimpses I’ve allowed you to see over all this time so how do I know what you want and how I fit in that picture? I know how Beth does and that’s what scares me Beck. Scares me because we might be so right together but you’ve never allowed me to feel that.

Your words take him off guard as you take a big sigh, looking beyond him to the crew table that had been watching with curiosity, trying their best to look uninvolved and like they hadn’t watched the exchange go down when your eyes connect with theirs.

“Better get back inside. Don’t want your crew to worry about you.”

You push past him, back into the restaurant. All you needed was a bathroom to tidy yourself up, fix your makeup. Then you could feign your way through the meal before heading home and passing out.

You didn’t have the energy to fight with Chris anymore. You’d save that for the morning.

You make your way to the family restroom, not wanting to deal with strangers judging you while you stood in the mirror and tried to fix your makeup. Probably selfish of you but hell, you’d try to be selfless most of the time so what was 5 minutes consuming a small space in a restaurant that was way too expensive.

You’re too distracted looking through your bag, digging for your makeup clutch that you don’t hear Beck behind you. He had silently followed you back into the restaurant, fear gripping his heart.

He couldn’t lose you.

He loved you. When he thought of his future, his future was filled with you. Marriage even though in his mind that involved a wedding and he knew he’d probably never have one for you (you had made that clear multiple times). Kids because despite you saying you never wanted any, you would make side comments that teased about what your children had looked like. You were always trying to push away this future, the signs always lingering in the air, because you were unsure of what it would be with him. Because he had made a future with the two of you diluted. How were you to know that he dream of growing old together? Wanted to take you to Northern lights and surprise you with the Italian trip to Tuscany he knew you wanted to go to for the summer. It was why he had been working so much.

But he was the worse at communicating – always to you where it counted.

And now, because of it, he might lose you forever.

So when you opt into the family restroom, he takes the opportunity to follow you. Doesn’t care who sees as he steps in behind you, your eyes locking in the mirror as he blindly finds the lock to the door. You give a large sigh as he steps toward you and you turn, shaking your head.

“Chris I can’t do this now…” He sees the way your eyes brim with tears and cups your face, looking down at you.

“I’m afraid if I tell you how much I need you, how desperately I love you, you’ll take my heart and run away with it. So I keep myself guarded hoping that you’ll always want to chase after me.”

He whispers this as you look at him, your eyes looking tenderly into his own and you sigh, wrapping your hands over his.

“You’ve always had my heart Chris. I’m tired of chasing you, I want you to stop and stay here.”

He bends down, his lips pressed against your own, softly threading against your own and you sigh as you wrap your arms around him. He pushes back, desperate for you as his tongue skims your lips, beckoning your mouth open and you oblige as your tongues clash against each other, desperate – needy. He groans as your body runs into the counter and he lifts you, pressing his body between your legs as he pushes your jacket off of you.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” He whispers as his mouth moves lower, his lips caressing against your neck. His mouth finds your pulse and bites down on the tinder spot, and you moan rolling your head to the side.

“Empty promises Beck. I’ve heard them all before.”

You were always snarky, always had a combat and typically Beck could roll with it. Except when he had you like this. When you were putty in his hands – panther gone pussycat and his hands trail up your legs, pushing them wider as he makes his way to your core.

“What can I do to prove to you that I mean it this time. Every time before and every time after. You are my end my love,” his hands brushes against your center, your panties pooling in wetness and he growls, his voice dark and gravely as he whispers against your skin, “Oh darling, is this all for me?”

You bite back the whimper that escapes you as his hands push your panties to the side, his hands moving up and down your folds as his mouth moves over to your ear.

“Would pleasing this pretty little pussy of yours make it better?”

His finger flicks your cunt and you gasp, your hands instantly gripping his shoulders and you he chuckles darkly as you whisper out,

“It’s a start.”

“Hmmmmmm,” he’s too distracted, another finger joining the dance between your legs before he’s pushing them into your center, causing your breath to hitch as you lift off the counter, trying to get some friction between your legs. “You’re so perfect. This pretty little pussy always so wet, so fucking tight for me. God do you know that you drive me insane. I’ve spent so many hours for years thinking about you, wanting you to be mine. Did you know that sometimes, when I fucked Beth I’d close my eyes and pretend it was you – that’s how fucked up I am. I’m a selfish asshole but god am I a slave for you..”

His breath is shallow as he watches you come undone between his passing, thumb steady on your clit, rubbing the taunt muscle as your hands grip at his arms as you moan out his name. Your body shakes, giving into the pleasure as your eyes flutter open, looking into him.

“That’s right sweetheart. Cum for me, show daddy how you like it.”

It’s the way his steely blue eyes are watching you, unraveling paired with the huskiness in his voice that has you screaming out his name and his mouth falls on yours, mouth demanding as he pulls his digits out from you.

“Gotta be quit sweetheart, or you’re going to get us in trouble.”

You’re too spent, too tired to fight anymore. Chris was in control. Beck has always been shy, hesitant. Needing a push before he makes the first step. You were typically the bold one, aggressive and sure in your actions. Except when it came to you. Chris became someone different, so goofy and clumsily but also demanding, territorial and confident. It always spurred you on.

His hands make quick work of his belt and you help with the process pushing down his pants and briefs to unveil his cock, already red and throbbing, precum dripping from the clit.

“Oh Chris…” it always took you by surprise how big he was, girthy and ready and he smirks, pulling you back down into a kiss as he widens your legs.

“This will always be yours…” he mutters against your lips, his cock sliding into your pussy and your gone, your walls fluttering around him as you pull away to look at him. He always felt too big for you but also just right and you exhale a satisfied sigh as you hold his face in your hands.

“I know idiot. Just like I’ll always be yours.”

He’s bashful as he bends down to kiss you, tasting you again as his hips drive into you, lifting your legs higher as you whimper, falling back against the mirror.

“Going to make you see the stars sweetheart.” He pants, his hips moving faster as he bends down, biting down your neck. “Gonna mark you up so when you leave here everyone knows that you’re mine.”

Your hands rake through his hair, your body shaking as he drives into that spot that has you mewling, his name a whispered reverence against your lips.

“I want her to see the evidence of our lovemaking so she understands that I’m only yours. Don’t you see Y/N, you got me all shades of fucked up and she’s jealous because she knows she’ll never compare…”

His hips are stuttering now, moving faster as he places soft kisses on your neck, his hand snaking between your legs where you both meet and he flicks at your clit, making you tremble. You look up at him, your eyes watering as you wrap yourself around him, drawing him deeper inside you. He groans, loving how tight you feel around him as you grab his face, shaking his head.

“You are such an asshole.” You whisper and he chuckles, biting down on your collarbone.

“Yea,” he whispers back, his cock rubbing against that spot that has you pawing and his hips repeat the moving steadily, slowly, his hand slowly teasing around the small bundle of nerves, making you shake in anticipation. “But I’m you’re asshole.” He presses down on your clit, his cock snapping into you and you scream, his mouth covering your own trying to muffle the sound. He doesn’t stop in his movements and his hips stutter, his seed filling in you and you give a satisfied moan as he wraps himself around you, your name a repeated chant that he mutters in your ear.

You both lay there, Beck wrapped around you as you breathe steadily, placing soft kisses against your neck.

He loved you, you knew that. Beck had never been great with words but he had always tried to find sweet other ways to show you how much you meant to him. Sometimes the message got diluted, sometimes his witty brain got the best of him but at the core you knew.

“I just need you to show me once in a while what I mean to you. Because when you don’t it hurts even more.”

“I know. I will work on it. I promise.” He kisses you again, this time slow and sweet but its short lived as theirs a soft knock on the door. You both tense as you hear Mark clear his throat saying,

“Hey guys…when you’re decent and all….might want to join us at the table. Most of the restaurant uhhhh heard you and I don’t think you’ll get arrested but you know….”

Chris’ face turns bright red, embarrasement washing over you and you can’t help but laugh as you answer back,

“Roger that Watney.”

You turn to Chris, a large grin on your face.

“Guess everyone knows now.”

Even though he swats you, waiting exactly ten minutes before he joins you at the table, his suit still ruffled from lovemaking, he isn’t shy about kissing you tenderly on the forehead, ignoring the knowing eyes as they drink you both in.

“Guess they do.” He whispers against your skin.

[ellaofoakhill]

Allmom AU Update #7: Where No One Finds Out Anything Important at All

7. Where No One Finds Out Anything Important at All

 A grin spread across Mitsuki’s face the second Inko walked through the restaurant door.

“Uh, hey,” Inko said as she sat down.

“‘Hey’?!” Mitsuki said. “You are going out with All—whatever, that’s not important.” She looked around for a waiter. “Dish. Lunch is on me.”

“He’s been coming once a week to give me updates on Izuku for the past month,” Inko said, her face growing hot, “we got along well, so we decided to try dating. I was going to tell you when I was sure we were a thing!”

“Too bad he’s not a muscle-man anymore, eh?” The waiter came around, and they gave him their orders.

“He gave everything fighting the villain that levelled half of Kamino Ward, Mitsuki,” Inko said, “give him a break.”

Mitsuki shrugged. “So now he wants to settle down. I don’t really blame him.”

“Settle—” Inko spluttered, “we’ve been on precisely one date!”

“Fair enough. You mentioned he’s well-educated,” Mitsuki said, “does he like philosophers too? That’s something of a deal-breaker with you, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry I think about things besides which famous people are boinking each other, and golf!” Inko hissed, failing to keep her temper in check.

Mitsuki’s grin widened at “boinking”, but she held up her hands. “I just wanted to know exactly how my best friend found herself at dinner opposite Japan’s number one hero. The intimate details are none of my business.”

Inko breathed a sigh of relief. Sort of. “Thank you, Mitsuki.”

“I’ll have to make myself a hypocrite, however,” Mitsuki said, “since I do have a personal question.” She leaned forward. “Are you going to tell him about Kimeru-chan?”

Inko rubbed the back of her head. “Well… he’s… kind of… a f-fan.”

Mitsuki blanked for a full second before she started cackling. “That is perfect!” she said, smacking the table.

“It is a little ironic,” Inko said, her cheeks getting hot.

“Okay, okay,” Mitsuki said, raising a hand. “I’m happy for you, whether I’m acting like it or not.  If you want to talk, you can. Or not, it’s your call.”

“Thanks.” They talked about little things after that, jobs and husbands, kids and hobbies. Inko could feel the restraint Mitsuki needed to keep from peppering her with questions. It wasn’t much better than a straight-up interrogation.

“The Kimeru-chan question only occurred to me,” Mitsuki said as she and Inko walked home after, “because Katsuki and his friends from school were apparently talking about her. I didn’t tell him everything, but I gave him enough to satisfy his curiosity.”

“Oh.” Inko said. “Wait, did they listen to a recording or something?”

Mitsuki shrugged. “Maybe. Why—oh. Does Izuku not know?”

Inko shook her head. “I left the music side of my life behind a long time ago, and he never had much use for poetry.”

“Well,” Mitsuki looked up at the sky, “considering where things could go with All Might retired, we may need some inspiring music in the days ahead.”

 (two weeks-ish later)

 “Oh, the baby gorilla was so cute!” Ochako said, bouncing from one foot to the other. “Did you see how she smacked the silverback over the head?”

“And he started playing a game with her, where she chased and he ran,” Ashido said, mimicking the silverback exactly. Hagakure laughed.

“I liked the flamingos more,” Kyoka said, licking one half of a twin-pop.

“Because they’re gay,” Tsu-chan said, grinning.

Yaoyorozu, licking the other half, took Kyoka’s hand. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Kyoka-chan, you should do a flamingo mating dance for Yao-momo.” Ochako and Ashido both sprayed their drinks over the railing. Yaoyorozu turned toward the next enclosure, her ears red.

“I cannot believe we got the day off,” Hagakure said. “And right near the end of summer. This is so awesome!”

“Aizawa Sensei said there was a major scheduling error, and the third-year class needed the TDL more,” Yaoyorozu said. “We should really be studying, I guess.”

“We’ve been studying for weeks!” Ashido said, running ahead to the tropical bird exhibit. “I need a break or my antennae are gonna fall off!”

“It is nice to go out and do something not hero-related for a change,” Ochako said.

“Hey, are we going inside the tropical house?” Tsu-chan said. “I want to see the poison-arrow frogs.”

“They are quite lovely,” Yaoyorozu said as she went through the door Kyoka held for her. “Like they’re made of glass.”

It was hot inside the tropical house, which really should’ve been obvious in hindsight. Ochako dabbed at the humidity condensing on her forehead. And then did a double-take. She tapped Tsu-chan on the shoulder.

“Oh. Who knew All Might Sensei liked birds, too?”

The others noticed where they were staring. “Should we say hello?” Yaoyorozu said, “Or leave him alone on his day off?”

That question was answered as the crowd parted. Ochako had met Mrs. Midoriya when Deku had invited herself and Iida over to his house to study. She’d been quite nice. She had not been holding hands with the Symbol of Peace, however.

“Who’s that?” Ashido said a little too loudly. All Might and Mrs. Midoriya both looked. Mrs. Midoriya looked like a deer caught in the headlights, her face reddening by the second. All Might spat what was either his drink or some blood.

The pair approached them. Ochako completely blanked. If someone had asked what her Quirk was, she couldn’t have told them.

“Hello, girls,” All Might said, wiping at his mouth. “I’d heard your class got the day off. There was a scheduling error?” His voice rose a couple of octaves as he spoke.

“Yes,” Kyoka said, recovering her powers of speech first. “We thought we’d go to the zoo and relax before we went back to work.” She bowed to Mrs. Midoriya. “All Might Sensei is one of our teachers.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Midoriya appeared to be slowly grinding into motion too. “You’re Izuku’s classmates, right?”

Ochako heard five brains stall in perfect synchrony. “Mrs. Midoriya, it’s good to see you again!” Ochako all but shouted, bowing so low she almost touched her toes. She heard a few errant squawks from the birds around them.

“I’m Asui Tsuyu,” Tsu-chan also bowed. She turned to All Might. “Is this why—”

“No, no,” All Might said. “We only met a couple months ago. Young Midoriya made an impression on me long before that.”

“Um,” Mrs. Midoriya said, “if you’d like to talk we can talk, but I’d appreciate it if none of you could mention this to Izuku.” She shared a look with All Might. “We want to make sure we’re a good fit before he finds out.”

“Yeah, telling him All Might is going to be his new daddy isn’t something you tell Midoriya-chan prematurely,” Tsu-chan said.

All Might laughed so hard he coughed up more blood. Mrs. Midoriya pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to him. “He decorated his room the same as at home?”

There were a few snorts. “Yup.”

“We were going to grab lunch after this,” All Might said, taking Mrs. Midoriya’s hand. “Would you care to join us?”

“That sounds lovely, thank you,” Yaoyorozu said. Ochako was pretty sure, along with the other girls, that she didn’t absorb much of the tropical house; there was too much weirdness for that. The idea of All Might and Deku’s mother as an item was… unexpected. But as she saw and heard the two interact, it got slightly less weird. All Might as the somewhat nervous, doting gentleman was cute, even if he was a skeleton, and Mrs. Midoriya was clearly on cloud nine.

As they finished in the tropical house, Tsu-chan nudged Ochako. “Hey, Ochako-chan, do we want to ask Mrs. Midoriya about Kimeru-chan?”

Ochako smacked her fist into her palm. “You’re right, this is perfect!” She looked at the others. “But let’s keep it quiet. We don’t want to put Mrs. Midoriya on the spot.” Tsu-chan nodded.

Ochako sidled over to Mrs. Midoriya. “Um, Mrs. Midoriya?”

“Yes, Miss Uraraka?”

“Do you—,” she lowered her voice, “are you Kimeru-chan?”

Mrs. Midoriya almost fell over, dragging All Might with her. Fortunately, Ochako just tapped the pair of them and made them weightless.

“What’s wrong?” All Might said, taking Mrs. Midoriya’s hand in both of his. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yes,” Mrs. Midoriya said. “I just tripped is all. Go on ahead with the other girls, I think Miss Uraraka has a personal question for me.”

All Might nodded, and asked the girls what they wanted to eat, letting them lead the way. Once they were a suitable distance ahead, Mrs. Midoriya started speaking.

“I am.”

“And Deku didn’t know.”

“Right.” Mrs. Midoriya blinked and looked at Ochako. “What do you mean ‘didn’t’?”

“Oh, um,” Ochako ran a hand through her hair, “All Might Sensei told us about ‘Remember the Sun’, he said he found it really inspiring when he was young. So we found a recording online, and Deku recognized your voice.”

“Twenty-nine years ago and he recognized me.” Mrs. Midoriya rubbed her face. “Oh, that boy has good ears. Find someone who listens half as well as he does, Miss Uraraka, and you’ll have a fine partner someday.”

Ochako blushed to her roots. “Y-yeah.”

Mrs. Midoriya arched an eyebrow, and a ghost of a smile spread across her face. “I’ve been finding out the last little while that, at the end of the day, don’t worry about what people look like or what they have, or even what they can do. All you need to worry about is how you feel about them, how they feel about you, and how you treat each other.” Ochako followed her gaze; All Might was taking some sunflower seeds he’d just bought and spreading them for the birds. “And take as much time as you need. I remember feeling that everything moved so fast at your age, but move at your own pace. Rushing things will ruin them if you aren’t careful.”

“Th-thank you,” Ochako said, “I’ll remember that.”

Mrs. Midoriya snorted. “Listen to me, dating for less than two months and acting like I know everything.”

“Well, it’s still good advice,” Ochako said.

They resumed walking. “So how is Izuku doing?” Mrs. Midoriya. “I always hear the school’s side of things, but how well does he get on with his classmates?”

“Pretty well,” Ochako said, relaxing now she was fairly sure she was on safe ground. “He’s incredible at solving problems and he’s always coming up with new inventive ways to use his Quirk. Everyone in class who doesn’t see him as a rival looks up to him.”

Mrs. Midoriya smiled. “That’s good. I thought he must be working hard if he could catch All Might’s attention.”

Ochako nodded. “He’s really strong, and even when it’s tough, or he loses, he just gets back up and tries again. I…” she chuckled, “I kind of wish I could be more like that.”

Mrs. Midoriya hmmed an affirmative. “I’m always a bit scared for him, especially with such a dangerous Quirk. But I am glad he’s happy and helping others so much.” She seemed lost in her own thoughts for a moment.

“Did Deku ever tell you about the entrance exam?” Ochako said as they approached the table.

“He thought he’d failed it,” Mrs. Midoriya said as she sat next to All Might. “What happened?”

Between them, the girls explained how the practical portion of the entrance exam worked. “I thought I was doing pretty good,” Ochako said, “until this enormous robot—the same one as the bunch that showed up at the sports festival—came at us. It was huge! It tore down buildings and ripped the street to pieces just going by! Everyone was trying to run away from it in the chaos, but I tripped and some rubble trapped my leg.” She shivered. “I was so desperate I didn’t even notice Deku until there was this huge whoosh and he was flying at it just like All Might!” Said All Might rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish grin on his face. “A second later, and he just punched it straight in the face! Knocked it flying back! He was barely a dot in the sky, it was so huge, but he knocked it right over!” Ochako was about to tell the rest of the story, but realized who she was telling it to. “He saved me,” she finished.

“He does rush in without thinking sometimes, though,” Yaoyorozu said.

“Well,” Kyoka said, “sometimes when you’re in a crisis, you don’t have time to think. That’s part of our schooling, right? Getting the good reactions so quick and ingrained we don’t have to think?”

“Exactly right,” All Might said. “This is why there’s a lot of repetition. It might seem boring, but it can save many lives if you can do it without having to remember.”

Ochako glanced at Tsu-chan. Had All Might improved as a teacher, or was it just her?

“I’m glad Midoriya-chan isn’t Quirkless,” Tsu-chan said.

“Why’s that?” Mrs. Midoriya said.

“If he ran into a dangerous situation with no Quirk and no training, he’d be more danger than help.”

Mrs. Midoriya sipped her drink. “Yes,” she said, “I suppose that’s true.”

[buckygirl-fanfiction]

Sparks Chapter 8

Pairing: Bucky(POV) X Reader(POV) ft. other characters from avengers team

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: Bucky and y/n have a almost moment at the Tower’s Halloween party. But, they are interrupted with news of a potential bio-attack in Time Square. It’s up to y/n to disable the bomb and save the city.

A/N: This is a story about two people building a great friendship and then slowly falling in love. y/n is a strong, independent, and smart scientist. She meets Bucky when she wakes him up from cryo sleep and they become friends. This is going to have all the angst / best friends falling in love / fluff / drama / & eventual smut ;) that I can possibly fit in it. This fic is going to be looong! So far my document is like 66 pages. So editing is hard If you catch any grammatical or formatting errors let me know.

October 31, 2015

y/n’s POV

“Well, what do you think?” I say as I walk out. It’s 7pm and Bucky is outside my office waiting for me to change into my costume for Tony’s annual Halloween party. Tony has an annual party for literally everything, I suspect it’s a coping mechanism because everything around us is literally going to shit. Hey, if a party makes him forget that there is an active Hydra mole still in the tower then i’m down. This year i’m going as the infamous catwoman, red lipstick, skin tight black leather, black stiletto boots and all.

“Wow,” Bucky stands there wide eyed and staring at me. I guess that’s a good reaction. I’ve been working nonstop these past two weeks since Bucky and Steve got back with their intel. I was in charge of decoding the scientific data they got off the drives in Chad. Tony briefed me partially and told me that some information had been “found” and that he wanted me to run through it. So far i’ve put together pieces that revealed some form of bioterrorism. But, Tony still didn’t trust me enough to keep me in the loop about the mole hunt. However, I was still in the loop thanks to Bucky. The only downside the loop didn’t consist of much, other than what we already knew. Somebody inside the tower was passing on information.

“What do you think boobs au natural or pushed up,” I ask Bucky. Now that’s a question you can only ask your best friend.

“Ummm, uhhh.” He stammers a little, “well it depends is it for, uh, dancing, or umm.” He’s cut of when Wanda walks down the hall towards us.

“Come on we’re going to miss out on all the fun!” she says, “everybody’s already up on the roof.”

“What do you think?” I turn to Wanda pushing my breasts up a little.

“Yeah definitely go with the push-up,” Wanda says and I walk back into my office to put on my bustier bra. “Oh, Bucky. Bahini is looking for you. She’s upstairs waiting. I’d go up there before she starts doing body shots off someone.”

“Oh. Right… Well umm, i’ll see you guys up there,” Bucky says before awkwardly walking down the hall towards the elevator. He’s wearing a ‘nerd costume’. When in reality, he just borrowed a white lab jacket from inventory and put white tape around the middle of a pair of old square black glasses. Props go to him for making the best last minute costume.

“You look uncharacteristically slutty today,” Wanda says.

I walk out my office and give her a spin, “I know. Dean said he is coming tonight,” I say. “So I thought I might you know get a little frisky.” I wink at her.

“Dean the cute weapons guy?” Wanda asks as I fix my hair.

“Yep,” after checking my reflection for the last time I grab my phone and say, “let’s go.” Upstairs everyone is dressed up, drinking, and dancing. Wanda herself is iconic Wonder Woman. I spot Cho sitting across on the other side of the roof dressed up as a bunny. It’s uncharacteristically warm for late October and everybody is enjoying the late afternoon breeze. Wanda and I make our way through the crowd of people socializing towards Cho who’s sitting next to Steve. “Wow,” I say sarcastically looking at him. “And I thought Bucky’s costume was last minute. Great effort,” I say to Steve who is basically wearing one of his old red, white, and blue tactical suits.

“Hey,” he says “I give the people what they want.”

I spot a streak of orange fly past behind them, beyond the roof. “Well I see Tony’s having fun.” Wanda says.

“He pulls that thing out for every occasion,” Steve says shaking his head in disapprovement. Tony is in his iron man suit flying around the roof gathering the attention of spectators all around.

Bucky walks towards our group with Bahni by his side and says, “Hey, you know Bahni.” She’s wearing the stereotypical slutty nurse outfit. How stereotypically Bahni I think to myself.

“Hello,” she says to everyone at our group. We break out into casual conversation and laugh and drink. She’s actually a cool person I think to myself. I’m glad to see Bucky is finally breaking out of his usually reserved shell with her. After about ten minutes I spot Dean and I excuse myself from the group and walk towards him.

Bucky’s POV

I watch y/n as she walks across the roof towards a tall man in a ridiculous Clark Kent Superman costume. I’m inclined to keep an eye on her for some unexplainable reason. The group is still talking to Bahni about office gossip or something along those lines. Bahni’s great I think to myself. What are you doing Bucky? Focus on the girl right in front of you I think to myself. But, I can’t help it. My eyes occasionally drift back to y/n and the man she was flirting with across the roof. I think his name is Dean. y/n told me they had coffee once. The rest of the night passes by an y/n brings Dean over to the group and introduces him to her friends. He is the stereotypical arrogant scientist type, way too smart for his own good. Around 10pm I make the mistake of drinking a little too much from Thor’s stash. The group has now dispersed. y/n and Dean are dancing and Bahni is somewhere I don’t know. Steve and I are sitting on the barstools watching the entire scene.

“So, Bahni is a nice girl,” Steve says.

“Yeah,” I say absentmindedly still looking off in the distance watching y/n and Dean dancing. What am I doing? I question to myself.

“So is y/n,” Steve says following my gaze.

“Stop.” I say cutting him off before he starts again.

“Alright. We just think you guys are good for each other.” Steve continues.

“We?” I say turning my attention towards Steve.

“Well yeah, Cho and I, were just talking about it,” he says looking guilty of partaking in gossip.

“So, WE are a topic of conversation now?” I ask curiously and a little annoyed.

“Uhh, no. I just mean.” Steve says trying to play it off.

“I’m gonna go find Bahni,” I say before walking towards the other end of the roof. It’s quieter on this side. Just the catering crew buzzing around. I lean on the guard rail and look down to the street which is just a faint grey line from so far up. What am I doing I think to myself. y/n is a great friend. I can’t just all of a sudden bring feelings into this. That’s unfair to her. Maybe if I take a breather for a second these misplaced feelings will disappear. Just like that, perfectly on cue y/n walks towards my corner of the roof and leans against the stone edging.

“Hey,” she says looking at me. “What are you doing over here all alone?”

“Just thinking,” I reply vaguely.

“So, what do you think about Dean?” she asks bumping her shoulder against mine. She’s almost as tall as I am when she’s wearing heels. Just a couple inches shorter.

“He’s alright, I guess,” I reply.

“Alright?” she repeats curiously.

“You could do better.” I say simply. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking.

“Well, he’s better then the coffee guy,” she says laughing playfully bumping my shoulder once again.

I turn around to face her. The alcohol making me a little bolder than usual I move my face closer to hers. I’ve never been this close to her. I smell her perfume, it’s sweet and floral and fills my lungs. I look down at her lips which are deep red, the color of blood. Then, I bring my eyes back up to meet hers. She looks at me quizzically, but doesn’t move away. For the first time in a long time I get a moment of clarity. Our faces are on the same level and i’m so tempted to lean down and kiss her.

y/n’s POV

Bucky’s face is so close to mine I can smell the alcohol on his breath. I don’t exactly know how much time we spend standing like this, but the next thing I hear is Steve’s voice from behind me. “Uhh, Buck. Sorry to interrupt but we have a situation.”

Bucky reluctantly pulls back away from my face to look up at Steve who is standing a couple feet away. “What?” he says in a semi-annoyed tone.

“There’s a bomb in Time Square.” Steve says. Now that broke whatever alcohol induced spell Bucky and I were under, like a bucket of cold water being poured on us.

“What?” I say shocked.

“We have to go now, Tony’s in the briefing room.” Steve says. Bucky takes another look at me sighs and says, “Stay safe.” He walks away leaving me at the corner of the roof alone. Once again left alone to worry. I think to myself is it worth it? To have my happiness so contingent upon another being? He flies away every five minutes to put himself in danger and save the world and i’m left here wondering if he’s going to come back.

I walk back towards the party and dancing people. I notice most of the agents are missing and sigh I worry about Nat and Wanda. I spot Bahni completely obvious to the situation taking shots and laughing with her friends. I envy her just a little. Dean is surrounded by a group of young eager looking interns. I see Cho sitting alone at the bar and walk towards her. I guess she’s been ditched too.

“Steve told me,” she says equally disoriented.

“I didn’t know,” I say. I always suspected something between them but I wasn’t sure until now. If he thought she was important enough to be honest with clearly there was something going on between them. “It’s been a couple months,” she says looking off into the distance. “We weren’t ready to tell anyone yet.”

“I see,” I say as she confirms my suspicions.

Bucky’s POV

Most of the main team members are in the briefing room along with some trusted tactical agents. Tony’s A.I. program intercepted the intelligence and had alerted him. Most of the staff still haven’t been notified since we are still in the process of a mole hunt. Nat and Clint look at each other worried. I don’t usually see Nat worried. Steve is already in his tactical suit ready to go and save the city. Tony is typing away at his keyboard. Sam is on site already providing some live video feed. Apparently it’s a explosive designed to disperse a neurotoxin. Tony is trying to hack into the wireless detonator along with a blond woman sitting next to him. Tony stands up from his screen after five minutes and sighs. “I can’t disable it, but I know what it is,” he says. He turns to Nat and Clint, “The wireless detonators signal is coming from a warehouse in Queens.” Almost on cue both of them nod their heads and exit the room going to check it out. Leaving Steve and I alone in the room with Tony and the blond woman, Sharon Carter. “Where’s Dr. y/l/n?” Tony asks.

“Upstairs,” I say. Then ask, “why?”

“She’s the one decoding the scientific intel we got from that base in Chad.” Tony answers. “I need her.”

“I’ll get her,” I say making my way back to the door. I don’t want to bring y/n into this. But lives are on the line. When I get upstairs I find her and Cho sitting, looking quite depressed, leaning against one of the bar setups. I tell her whats going on and lead her downstairs to the security floor. Cho follows despite my protests.

When we enter the room Tony sees Cho and before he can say anything Steve says, “They know.”

“They know how much?” Tony asks narrowing his eyes at us.

“Everything,” I answer in Steve’s place.

“Wonderful, does anyone know what the word classified means these days?” Tony yells. “It means don’t tell your girlfriends.”

y/n’s POV

I ignore Tony’s quip and proceed to say, “What’s going on? Why do you need me?”

“Remember those files I gave you to review. The prototype plans we found for the bio-bomb?” Tony says exasperated. “Well looks like it’s more than a prototype now.”

I walk over to the computer screen eyes wide open and look at the live video stream of the bomb. “I can’t do it from here,” I says looking at Tony. “I have to be there.”

“Alright.” Tony says looking down at me. He turns to Bucky and Steve, “get her there.”

“She’s not a field agent,” Bucky says looking at me. “I’ll go, just tell me what to do and i’ll disable it.”

“I can handle myself,” I say looking at him a little angry at his lack of trust in me. What the hell… does he think I can’t do my own fucking job? I thought he was more evolved than that… He walks back and forth for a second. Steve and Tony look at him waiting for a response. What am I an asset? I don’t need permission to do my own job and time is running out. “Are you serious right now? This is completely irrational.” I walk up to Steve and say, “Come on let’s go I don’t feel like dying tonight along with all of New York.”

Steve looks at Bucky for a second, sighs and says, “let’s go.” I follow him out of the room. Bucky doesn’t say a word instead he walks out behind us.

…

We’ve split up, I’m in a subway tunnel somewhere under Time Square with Bucky. Steve is following us through another parallel tunnel making sure no one is still lurking around. Bucky hasn’t said much, other than communicating out location with Steve. “What, do you think i’m incompetent?” I say finally breaking the silence.

“y/n it’s not that” he says still in his nerd costume carrying a large gun. It’s dark and the only light comes from a flashlight i’m carrying. Subway tunnels are disgusting. I hear the occasional rat running away and smell god knows what. My heels click on the cement, i’m careful to avoid the tracks.

“What is it then?” I ask still annoyed at Bucky for not supporting me earlier. I don’t need a man to control me or protect me for that matter. I can do both just fine myself, thank you.

“It’s irrational,” he says.

“What?” I ask narrowing my eyes at him.

“I didn’t want my best friend in danger alright. I know you can handle yourself, I know you’re strong, and I know you’re good at your job.” He says stilling looking straight ahead. “I just didn’t want to bring you into this.”

Alright, I have to admit that, that was sweet. But just because it’s sweet doesn’t mean he gets a say in what I can or cannot do, “That is irrational,” I say back simply, but in a less angry tone.

“You’re coming up onto the main chamber,” I hear over the com in my ear. “It detonates at midnight, You have 45 minutes. Make it count Dr. y/l/n.” Tony says over my earpiece. We walk into a lit underground corridor. Sam is inside along with two large construction lights illuminating the large device. It looks almost identical to the prototype blueprints I was studying. Minus a few minor changes. I kneel in front of it and Sam hands me a large metal box. I open the box filled with tools and begin to unscrew the device and take it apart slowly and carefully. I admit, I’m a little scared. But, I push the fear back and continue to do my job. There’s no time for fear when it comes to living life.

“y/n you’re cutting it pretty close here,” Sam says buzzing behind me. The timer counts down, 15 minutes left. I’ve taken apart the main structure all that’s left is removing the neurotoxins and explosives. I can’t disable it but if I take out the ammunition and dispersal agents then there would be nothing left to detonate.

“Shut up,” I say to Sam who won’t stop pacing behind me. “Hand me the orange box.” He passes me a large orange briefcase and I open it. I slowly remove each vial of neurotoxin from inside the device and place it inside the briefcase locking it. “Get this out of here,” I say to Sam.

“3 minutes y/n,” Bucky says impatiently behind me.

“I know, Shut up for a second,” I say before disconnecting some of the wires connected to the detonator. I get up when there’s about 30 seconds left on the clock. “There,” I say. The timer continues to count down. “Are you sure,” Bucky asks and I give him a look that says don’t question me. Just as I turn my back and walk towards the exit I hear a beeping noise and it startles Bucky.

Bucky’s POV

There’s a loud perpetual beeping being emitted from the now gutted device. y/n is walking towards the door. It’s going to blow, is my first though. Pure instinct kicks in and I throw myself over y/n shielding her. We both fall to the floor and my hands are on either side of her head, my body completely on top of hers. I close my eyes praying my body offers enough protection and y/n survives the blast. The beeping continues then stops. “I’m curious,” I hear y/n’s delicate voice say from under me. “How would closing your eyes help in a blast?” I open my eyes and look down at her, then up at the device’s timer which is now stopped at zero. I sigh and roll off of her. She did it. “I told you, I disabled it,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Never doubted your ability,” is all I can manage to say.

“Ahhh!” She screams and leaps up from the floor. I leap up right beside her with my weapon raised pointing it in the direction of her gaze.

“What?” I say pointing my gun at the floor at nothing other than a huge sewer cockroach.

“Gahhh!” she says shivering and running behind me for cover.

“Seriously?” I say. She’s not scared of murdering maniac super villains or weapons of mass destruction but she’s scared of bugs.

“Can we just go, I hate bugs.” She says shivering again. She pulls me by my metal biceps to the door.  “Gahhhh so gross,” she says shaking herself off. I hear the click of her heels against the pavement as we walk through the empty subway tunnels back up to civilization. It’s so rhythmic and calming.

…

y/n’s POV

Back at the tower the party is still going on. Most of the team members are back up on the roof again blowing off some steam. Tony is the only one missing along with Agent Carter. They are probably shifting through the warehouse in Queens and the remnants of the bomb. I told Tony I���d take it apart first thing Monday to see what information I could get. Steve and Cho left already, but Nat and Wanda are still up there laughing and having drinks like we weren’t about to be blown up just hours ago. I guess they live in the moment, they have too with the lives they lead. Every moment could be their last. I wonder if Bucky lives in the moment. Is that what he’s doing with Bahni I think. I watch them across the roof talking. I’m a little tired and I decide to call it a night. I get up chug down the last of my drink and make my way to the elevator. I walk inside and down the stairs leading down to the top floor where the elevator is. Half way down the stairs, I hear Bucky’s voice call me. “y/n!” I look up and find him standing at the top of the winding staircase. “Leaving so soon?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m kind of worn out.”

“Oh,” he says I can almost hear disappointment in his tone. “Well i’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks, “for our run.”

“Yeah 11?” I say back.

“Yep,” he replies and then we part ways. I walk back down and towards the elevator. It’s getting colder outside and some of the party guests have wandered inside to the top floor. I think back to earlier in the night. When Bucky and I were alone in the corner of the roof. He leaned in, I swear he leaned in. Maybe he was just drunk I think to myself. Even if he weren’t what could that mean? Maybe it doesn’t mean anything; Maybe he was just living in the moment. Some part of me wonders what would have happened if Steve hadn’t interrupted us. Some part of me is too scared to ask the question. I shake the fear off and attribute the entire incident to a little too much drinking and the aura of the party. I get on the elevator and before the doors shut I see a arm stick in, a metal arm, and the doors open again.

“Hey,” Bucky says getting into the elevator with me. “I’m hungry wanna get something to eat?”

“Yeah,” I reply surprised that he came after me. “What about Bahni?”

“I told her it was getting late and I was tired,” he says. I raise an eyebrow at him, “Which is true we did just save an entire city.” He says.

“So where do you wanna go?” I ask.

“That Diner with the giant pancakes?” he asks.

“Diner it is,” I reply.

[fishermariawo]

What Causes Slow Post-Workout Recovery—and What Can You Do About It?

One of the biggest mistakes I see among people who exercise is they forget this core truth: we get fitter not from training, but from recovering from training. This doesn’t just occur in beginners either. Some of the most experienced, hardest-charging athletes I know fail to heed the importance of recovery. Hell, the reason my endurance training destroyed my life and inadvertently set the stage for creation of the Primal Blueprint was that I didn’t grasp the concept of recovery. I just piled on the miles, thinking the more the merrier.

It didn’t work.

What is recovery, anyway?

There’s short-term recovery. Your heart rate slows back down, your body temperature drops, your sweat dries, your muscles and lungs stop burning.

Long-term recovery is less conspicuous, more internal. You replace lost energy stores, repair damaged muscle, clear out waste products, and begin the process of adaptation to the training.

When both short- and long-term recovery happen together, you “feel ready” to go again.

Some portion of how quickly we recover from training is out of our direct control.

Genetics is one factor we can’t control. Researchers have found genetic variants of collagen-encoding genes that increase or decrease the rate at which we recover from exercise-induced muscle damage, muscle tissue genes that increase resistance to exercise-induced muscle soreness, immune genes that affect the speed of adaptation to training. But even many genetic variants purported to affect recovery act through decisions carriers make. A carrier of a genetic variant linked to muscle power experienced more muscle damage and required more recovery after a soccer match, but only because that carrier “performed more speed and power actions during the game.”

Age is another factor out of our direct control. Sure, living, eating, and training right can stave off many of the worst effects of aging. Sure, a sedentary 70-year-old will recover from a workout far more slowly (if he or she can be cajoled into training) than a 70-year-old master athlete. But time does tick on. Following training that fatigues but doesn’t damage the muscles, like easy cycling, light weight training, or a sub-aerobic threshold jog, older athletes recover muscle function and performance at similar rates to younger athletes. After intense exercises that damage the muscles, like sprints, heavy lifting, intervals, or longer race-pace runs, however, older athletes recover more slowly than younger athletes.

Other factors, while preventable and modifiable over the long haul, inexorably inhibit workout recovery once they’re in place:

If you’re sick, you won’t recover as quickly. Illness diverts some of the resources that would otherwise be used to recover from training.

If you have heart disease, you’ll recover more slowly. In one study, having heart disease was the greatest predictor of a slower rate of heart rate recovery after exercise.

If your hormones are out of whack, you’ll likely recover more slowly. Hormones are the messengers and managers that tell our cells what to do. That includes muscle repair, hypertrophy, fuel replenishment, inflammatory signaling, and every other cellular function related to recovery.

Now I’ve got bad news and good news. Everything else that slows down workout recovery is under your direct control.

Factors We Can Control Stress

Stress is stress. Traffic is a stressor. A job you hate is a stressor. Procrastinating until you absolutely must get working is a stressor. And yes, exercise is a stressor. Too much of the psychological, lifestyle, or mental stress we all face impairs our ability to recover from exercise-induced stress.

Recent research confirms that “mental stress” impairs workout recovery, and it doesn’t speak in generalities. Thirty-one undergrads were assessed for stress levels using a battery of psychological tests, then engaged in a heavy lower body strength workout. At an hour post-workout, students in the high stress group had regained 38 percent of their leg strength, while students in the low stress group had regained 60 percent of their strength.

I developed my anti-stress supplement Primal Calm (now, Adaptogenic Calm) back in the chronic cardio days as a way to improve my training recovery. That’s what gave the product so much momentum in the endurance community—it turns out that beating back stress of all kinds quickened recovery from a very specific type of training stress.

Some stress is unavoidable. But most of us create additional stress in our lives and fail to do enough to counter or manage it. Stop making unforced errors.

Poor Sleep

Sleep debt impairs exercise recovery primarily via two routes: by increasing cortisol, reducing testosterone production, and lowering muscle protein synthesis; and by disrupting slow wave sleep, the constructive stage of slumber in which growth hormone secretion peaks, tissues heal, and muscles rebuild. That’s probably why sleep deprivation has been linked to muscular atrophy and increased urinary excretion of nitrogen, and why the kind of cortisol excess caused by sleep deprivation reduces muscle strength.

Additionally, sleep loss can increase the risk of injuries by decreasing balance and postural control. If you trip and fall, or throw out your back due to poor technique, you won’t even have a workout to recover from.

Most people think bad sleep is unavoidable. It happens to the best of us from time to time, but a night of bad sleep here and there isn’t going to slow down recovery. The real recovery killer is chronically bad sleep, and that’s the kind most of us can avoid by sticking to a good sleep hygiene regimen.

Nutrient Deficiencies

Since every physiological function requires a micronutrient substrate—vitamin, mineral, hormone, neurotransmitter, etc.—and physiological functions increase with exercise and recovery, active people require more micronutrients in their diet. “More of everything” is a safe bet, but there are a few key nutrients that working out especially depletes:

Zinc: Exercise, especially weight training, works better with plenty of testosterone on hand to build muscle and develop strength. Zinc is a key substrate for the production of testosterone, and studies show that exercise probably increases the need for zinc. In fact, one study found that exhaustive exercise depleted testosterone (and thyroid) hormones in athletes, while supplementing with zinc restored it.

Magnesium and Other Electrolytes: Magnesium is required for a number of physiological processes related to workout recovery, including oxygen uptake by cells, energy production, and electrolyte balance. Unfortunately, as one of the main electrolytes, lots of magnesium is lost to sweat during exercise. The same could be said for other electrolytes like calcium, sodium, and potassium, but most people get plenty of those minerals from a basic Primal eating plan. Getting enough magnesium, however, is a bit tougher, making magnesium deficiency a real issue for people trying to recover from workouts.

Iron: Intense exercise depletes iron, which is instrumental in the formation of red blood cells and oxygen delivery to your tissues during training and the immune response after it. They even have a name for it—exercise-induced anemia.

Soreness

Post-workout delayed onset muscle soreness, or DOMS, is no joke. While many of you folks reading this probably enjoy DOMS and take it as feedback for a job well done, it’s a hurdle that many beginners never move past. They join a gym, d0 a workout, feel great, go to bed feeling awesome, sleep like a baby, then wake up and find they have the bipedal capacity of a three-month-old. They can barely walk. Lifting their arms to brush their teeth is agony. Walking downstairs is out of the question. Some will move past the DOMS and get back into the gym. Many will not.

Low Fuel Availability

Working out expends energy. That energy must be replenished before you’re fully recovered and prepared to do another workout. Unless you’re trying to increase efficiency by training in a state of low fuel availability, like the “train low-carb, race high-carb” method, you should recover what’s been lost. What you replenish is conditional on the type of exercise you did. If you went for a long hike or easy bike ride that burned primarily body fat, you don’t need to—and probably shouldn’t—”replenish what you lost.” If you’re coming off a 30-minute full body CrossFit session that left you gasping on the ground in a puddle of sweat, you probably have some glycogen stores to refill.

This is a common issue for folks trying to lose weight through diet and exercise. Inadequate calorie intake coupled with intense exercise sends a “starvation” signal to the body, causing a down-regulation of anabolic hormones. Instead of growing lean mass and burning body fat, starvation (whether real or simulated) promotes muscle atrophy and body fat retention. Either alone can be somewhat effective, but combining the two for too long will only impair recovery.

Alcohol

Drinking directly impairs muscle protein synthesis, the essential step in muscle recovery and adaptation to training. Moderate or “social” drinking is probably safe (just don’t use alcohol as a post-workout recovery drink), but even just a single day per week of binge drinking is linked to 4x the risk of sarcopenia, or muscle-wasting. It’s hard to recover from your workouts if your muscles are atrophying.

Oddly, drinking directly after a training session also increases testosterone levels. One theory is that testosterone levels rise after drinking because it becomes less bioavailable; your muscle cells’ resistance to testosterone goes up, so it just circulates and gives “false” readings.

Things You Can Try

The obvious thing to try is the opposite of all the modifiable and preventable recovery-inhibitors mentioned above. Get good sleep, don’t drink too much (especially post-workout), get a handle on your stress, eat enough food, eat enough protein, get your micronutrients. What else?

Watermelon

L-citrulline is an amino acid found in watermelon that shows a significantly ameliorative effect on post-workout muscle pain, or delayed onset muscle soreness (DOMS). You can also supplement directly with L-citrulline, which may work, but watermelon is so good right now with a little salt, lime juice, and cayenne pepper, and it’s actually lower in carbs than you probably think (about 10 grams per cup of watermelon). I recommend fresh watermelon over pasteurized juice, as heat treatment reduces the effect.

Beets

Beets (and beet juice) aren’t only good for exercise performance. They also reduce DOMS. Nitrates have been posited as the primary constituent responsible for the effect, but beet juice works better than pure sodium nitrate.

Tart Cherry Juice

Tart cherry juice is best used to recover during competition, when your primary concern is to get back out there and perform. Its extreme effectiveness at killing muscle pain, reducing local and systemic inflammation and exercise-induced muscle damage suggests it may hamper training adaptations, however. It does also improve sleep, which should translate into better adaptations.

Massage

Massage feels great, and the evidence shows that it’s great for recovery from exercise. It alleviates DOMS. It speeds up the recovery of muscle strength and enhances proprioception. It improves central nervous system parasympathetic/sympathetic balance, even if the masseuse is one of those weird back massage machines.

Compression Garments

These aren’t just for show. A recent meta-analysis of the available research concluded that compression garments enhance muscle recovery after strength training and improve next-day cycling performance.

Whey

Compared to other proteins, whey protein accelerates muscle adaptation to eccentric exercise.

Creatine

Although we get creatine from red meat and fish, supplementary creatine can boost our recovery from exercise via a couple mechanisms. First, it increases muscle content of phosphocreatine. That’s the stuff we use for quick bursts of maximal effort, so carrying a little extra can do wonders for our ability to perform. Second, it enhances muscle glycogen replenishment without increasing insulin.

Fish Oil (or Fatty Fish)

Adding fish oil to a recovery drink reduced post-workout muscle soreness without affecting performance. Fish oil may also enhance muscle recovery from and adaptation to strength training.

Cold Water

A cold water plunge after training enhances the recovery of muscle function. However—and this is a big “however”—post training cold water plunges also seem to impair long term muscular adaptations to resistance training. In other words, a cold plunge might help you get back in the game for the short term at the cost of long-term adaptations.

More Carbs

I always say “Eat the carbs you earn.” While that often means eating fewer carbs than before, it can also mean eating more if you’ve trained hard enough to warrant them. This even applies to keto folks; depleting glycogen through exercise creates a “glycogen debt” that you can repay without inhibiting ketosis or fat-adaptation too much. The carbs—which you don’t need much of—go into muscle glycogen stores for recovery and later use without disrupting ketosis.

Don’t take this final section as a blanket recommendation, however. Before taking ice baths, dropping $500 on massages every week, taking a long list of expensive supplements, and walking around in a full body compression suit, make sure you’re sleeping, eating enough food, and giving yourself enough time between workouts. Quite often, handling the basics will be enough.

What have you found to be the best way to recover from your training? What are the biggest roadblocks? Let me know down below, and thanks for reading!

[cynthiamwashington]

What Causes Slow Post-Workout Recovery—and What Can You Do About It?

One of the biggest mistakes I see among people who exercise is they forget this core truth: we get fitter not from training, but from recovering from training. This doesn’t just occur in beginners either. Some of the most experienced, hardest-charging athletes I know fail to heed the importance of recovery. Hell, the reason my endurance training destroyed my life and inadvertently set the stage for creation of the Primal Blueprint was that I didn’t grasp the concept of recovery. I just piled on the miles, thinking the more the merrier.

It didn’t work.

What is recovery, anyway?

There’s short-term recovery. Your heart rate slows back down, your body temperature drops, your sweat dries, your muscles and lungs stop burning.

Long-term recovery is less conspicuous, more internal. You replace lost energy stores, repair damaged muscle, clear out waste products, and begin the process of adaptation to the training.

When both short- and long-term recovery happen together, you “feel ready” to go again.

Some portion of how quickly we recover from training is out of our direct control.

Genetics is one factor we can’t control. Researchers have found genetic variants of collagen-encoding genes that increase or decrease the rate at which we recover from exercise-induced muscle damage, muscle tissue genes that increase resistance to exercise-induced muscle soreness, immune genes that affect the speed of adaptation to training. But even many genetic variants purported to affect recovery act through decisions carriers make. A carrier of a genetic variant linked to muscle power experienced more muscle damage and required more recovery after a soccer match, but only because that carrier “performed more speed and power actions during the game.”

Age is another factor out of our direct control. Sure, living, eating, and training right can stave off many of the worst effects of aging. Sure, a sedentary 70-year-old will recover from a workout far more slowly (if he or she can be cajoled into training) than a 70-year-old master athlete. But time does tick on. Following training that fatigues but doesn’t damage the muscles, like easy cycling, light weight training, or a sub-aerobic threshold jog, older athletes recover muscle function and performance at similar rates to younger athletes. After intense exercises that damage the muscles, like sprints, heavy lifting, intervals, or longer race-pace runs, however, older athletes recover more slowly than younger athletes.

Other factors, while preventable and modifiable over the long haul, inexorably inhibit workout recovery once they’re in place:

If you’re sick, you won’t recover as quickly. Illness diverts some of the resources that would otherwise be used to recover from training.

If you have heart disease, you’ll recover more slowly. In one study, having heart disease was the greatest predictor of a slower rate of heart rate recovery after exercise.

If your hormones are out of whack, you’ll likely recover more slowly. Hormones are the messengers and managers that tell our cells what to do. That includes muscle repair, hypertrophy, fuel replenishment, inflammatory signaling, and every other cellular function related to recovery.

Now I’ve got bad news and good news. Everything else that slows down workout recovery is under your direct control.

Factors We Can Control

Stress

Stress is stress. Traffic is a stressor. A job you hate is a stressor. Procrastinating until you absolutely must get working is a stressor. And yes, exercise is a stressor. Too much of the psychological, lifestyle, or mental stress we all face impairs our ability to recover from exercise-induced stress.

Recent research confirms that “mental stress” impairs workout recovery, and it doesn’t speak in generalities. Thirty-one undergrads were assessed for stress levels using a battery of psychological tests, then engaged in a heavy lower body strength workout. At an hour post-workout, students in the high stress group had regained 38 percent of their leg strength, while students in the low stress group had regained 60 percent of their strength.

I developed my anti-stress supplement Primal Calm (now, Adaptogenic Calm) back in the chronic cardio days as a way to improve my training recovery. That’s what gave the product so much momentum in the endurance community—it turns out that beating back stress of all kinds quickened recovery from a very specific type of training stress.

Some stress is unavoidable. But most of us create additional stress in our lives and fail to do enough to counter or manage it. Stop making unforced errors.

Poor Sleep

Sleep debt impairs exercise recovery primarily via two routes: by increasing cortisol, reducing testosterone production, and lowering muscle protein synthesis; and by disrupting slow wave sleep, the constructive stage of slumber in which growth hormone secretion peaks, tissues heal, and muscles rebuild. That’s probably why sleep deprivation has been linked to muscular atrophy and increased urinary excretion of nitrogen, and why the kind of cortisol excess caused by sleep deprivation reduces muscle strength.

Additionally, sleep loss can increase the risk of injuries by decreasing balance and postural control. If you trip and fall, or throw out your back due to poor technique, you won’t even have a workout to recover from.

Most people think bad sleep is unavoidable. It happens to the best of us from time to time, but a night of bad sleep here and there isn’t going to slow down recovery. The real recovery killer is chronically bad sleep, and that’s the kind most of us can avoid by sticking to a good sleep hygiene regimen.

Nutrient Deficiencies

Since every physiological function requires a micronutrient substrate—vitamin, mineral, hormone, neurotransmitter, etc.—and physiological functions increase with exercise and recovery, active people require more micronutrients in their diet. “More of everything” is a safe bet, but there are a few key nutrients that working out especially depletes:

Zinc: Exercise, especially weight training, works better with plenty of testosterone on hand to build muscle and develop strength. Zinc is a key substrate for the production of testosterone, and studies show that exercise probably increases the need for zinc. In fact, one study found that exhaustive exercise depleted testosterone (and thyroid) hormones in athletes, while supplementing with zinc restored it.

Magnesium and Other Electrolytes: Magnesium is required for a number of physiological processes related to workout recovery, including oxygen uptake by cells, energy production, and electrolyte balance. Unfortunately, as one of the main electrolytes, lots of magnesium is lost to sweat during exercise. The same could be said for other electrolytes like calcium, sodium, and potassium, but most people get plenty of those minerals from a basic Primal eating plan. Getting enough magnesium, however, is a bit tougher, making magnesium deficiency a real issue for people trying to recover from workouts.

Iron: Intense exercise depletes iron, which is instrumental in the formation of red blood cells and oxygen delivery to your tissues during training and the immune response after it. They even have a name for it—exercise-induced anemia.

Soreness

Post-workout delayed onset muscle soreness, or DOMS, is no joke. While many of you folks reading this probably enjoy DOMS and take it as feedback for a job well done, it’s a hurdle that many beginners never move past. They join a gym, d0 a workout, feel great, go to bed feeling awesome, sleep like a baby, then wake up and find they have the bipedal capacity of a three-month-old. They can barely walk. Lifting their arms to brush their teeth is agony. Walking downstairs is out of the question. Some will move past the DOMS and get back into the gym. Many will not.

Low Fuel Availability

Working out expends energy. That energy must be replenished before you’re fully recovered and prepared to do another workout. Unless you’re trying to increase efficiency by training in a state of low fuel availability, like the “train low-carb, race high-carb” method, you should recover what’s been lost. What you replenish is conditional on the type of exercise you did. If you went for a long hike or easy bike ride that burned primarily body fat, you don’t need to—and probably shouldn’t—”replenish what you lost.” If you’re coming off a 30-minute full body CrossFit session that left you gasping on the ground in a puddle of sweat, you probably have some glycogen stores to refill.

This is a common issue for folks trying to lose weight through diet and exercise. Inadequate calorie intake coupled with intense exercise sends a “starvation” signal to the body, causing a down-regulation of anabolic hormones. Instead of growing lean mass and burning body fat, starvation (whether real or simulated) promotes muscle atrophy and body fat retention. Either alone can be somewhat effective, but combining the two for too long will only impair recovery.

Alcohol

Drinking directly impairs muscle protein synthesis, the essential step in muscle recovery and adaptation to training. Moderate or “social” drinking is probably safe (just don’t use alcohol as a post-workout recovery drink), but even just a single day per week of binge drinking is linked to 4x the risk of sarcopenia, or muscle-wasting. It’s hard to recover from your workouts if your muscles are atrophying.

Oddly, drinking directly after a training session also increases testosterone levels. One theory is that testosterone levels rise after drinking because it becomes less bioavailable; your muscle cells’ resistance to testosterone goes up, so it just circulates and gives “false” readings.

Things You Can Try

The obvious thing to try is the opposite of all the modifiable and preventable recovery-inhibitors mentioned above. Get good sleep, don’t drink too much (especially post-workout), get a handle on your stress, eat enough food, eat enough protein, get your micronutrients. What else?

Watermelon

L-citrulline is an amino acid found in watermelon that shows a significantly ameliorative effect on post-workout muscle pain, or delayed onset muscle soreness (DOMS). You can also supplement directly with L-citrulline, which may work, but watermelon is so good right now with a little salt, lime juice, and cayenne pepper, and it’s actually lower in carbs than you probably think (about 10 grams per cup of watermelon). I recommend fresh watermelon over pasteurized juice, as heat treatment reduces the effect.

Beets

Beets (and beet juice) aren’t only good for exercise performance. They also reduce DOMS. Nitrates have been posited as the primary constituent responsible for the effect, but beet juice works better than pure sodium nitrate.

Tart Cherry Juice

Tart cherry juice is best used to recover during competition, when your primary concern is to get back out there and perform. Its extreme effectiveness at killing muscle pain, reducing local and systemic inflammation and exercise-induced muscle damage suggests it may hamper training adaptations, however. It does also improve sleep, which should translate into better adaptations.

Massage

Massage feels great, and the evidence shows that it’s great for recovery from exercise. It alleviates DOMS. It speeds up the recovery of muscle strength and enhances proprioception. It improves central nervous system parasympathetic/sympathetic balance, even if the masseuse is one of those weird back massage machines.

Compression Garments

These aren’t just for show. A recent meta-analysis of the available research concluded that compression garments enhance muscle recovery after strength training and improve next-day cycling performance.

Whey

Compared to other proteins, whey protein accelerates muscle adaptation to eccentric exercise.

Creatine

Although we get creatine from red meat and fish, supplementary creatine can boost our recovery from exercise via a couple mechanisms. First, it increases muscle content of phosphocreatine. That’s the stuff we use for quick bursts of maximal effort, so carrying a little extra can do wonders for our ability to perform. Second, it enhances muscle glycogen replenishment without increasing insulin.

Fish Oil (or Fatty Fish)

Adding fish oil to a recovery drink reduced post-workout muscle soreness without affecting performance. Fish oil may also enhance muscle recovery from and adaptation to strength training.

Cold Water

A cold water plunge after training enhances the recovery of muscle function. However—and this is a big “however”—post training cold water plunges also seem to impair long term muscular adaptations to resistance training. In other words, a cold plunge might help you get back in the game for the short term at the cost of long-term adaptations.

More Carbs

I always say “Eat the carbs you earn.” While that often means eating fewer carbs than before, it can also mean eating more if you’ve trained hard enough to warrant them. This even applies to keto folks; depleting glycogen through exercise creates a “glycogen debt” that you can repay without inhibiting ketosis or fat-adaptation too much. The carbs—which you don’t need much of—go into muscle glycogen stores for recovery and later use without disrupting ketosis.

Don’t take this final section as a blanket recommendation, however. Before taking ice baths, dropping $500 on massages every week, taking a long list of expensive supplements, and walking around in a full body compression suit, make sure you’re sleeping, eating enough food, and giving yourself enough time between workouts. Quite often, handling the basics will be enough.

What have you found to be the best way to recover from your training? What are the biggest roadblocks? Let me know down below, and thanks for reading!

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[rossl32123]

Clear Sky, 19°C

7 Pacific Hwy, Mooney Mooney NSW 2083, Australia

After a considerable amount of time... Stripping down the motor took a lot of effort. What made it particularly tedious was the fact that there was only one spot where you can stand to perform the dismantling operations, on the starboard side engine bearer, just in front of the battery. I used the boarding ramp to span the gap across the top of the motor, which gave me something to lean my upper torso on when performing particularly delicate surgery with the snatch bar, but every operation was tiring, and more than one tool, bolt, nut, washer, screw etc. found its way into the bilge. Fortunately I kept a close eye on what went down there, and recovered everything with the claw tool before I forgot about it. At one stage my best flat head screw driver did the pirouette off the water tank, through the gap in the bulkhead between the two motors, and into the deepest and slimiest part of the bilge. I had to go fishing for it with two magnetic pickup tools taped together in series to reach down that far. Fortunately the magnet on the end was sufficiently powerful that it latched on straight away, and I got the tool back. Particularly galling in these circumstances is the workshop manuals brevity on some operations. "Remove the front side cowling" makes no mention of the fact that there is a bolt on its port side that connects it to the port side cowling with a nut than is inaccessible, similarly the rear side cowling also has a bolt connecting it to the port side cowling with a nut that is inaccessible. And the port side cowling cannot be removed until both inlet and exhaust manifolds have been removed, which cannot be done until the air ducting around the manifolds has been removed, and that operation isn't described. In other examples, simply removing some part doesnt mention the need for a special tool like a socket that has a third of its wall cut away and another socket welded to its side so that it will fit over just one nut that no ordinary tool can get anywhere near. Workshop manuals are fine, up to a point. Slowly but surely I managed to prise off the various cowling and ducts, the fuel lines, belts, the blower, the oil cooler, manifolds, heads, rods and tubes, and finally the barrels. It wasn't until I got the final cylinder barrel off that the problem was revealed. I have to say it was an emotional moment. When I saw the damaged piston and the scoring in the bore, I knew then what I was up for, and I was greatly relieved. If the problem had not been uncovered when I lifted off that last cylinder, then I knew the next step could only be the removal of the entire engine, and that was not something I think I could manage on my own, let alone afford. As I write the heads are waiting to be serviced, and the barrels honed. They have been in the shop for the past month so work on the motor has been halted until I know what parts are needed. I'm suspecting atleast three new pistons and a full set of rings, but I dont know if the #1 cylinder will have to go oversize, and if it does, what that means for the other bores. Pistons alone are over $300, so I'm contemplating a hefty parts bill. Atleast the labour bill won't be so crippling. In the meantime I've drained the motor of oil and given the crankcase a flush with diesel. I am concerned about the amount of grit still sitting in the oil pan which i cannot get to, but I saw a utube last week on flushing engines, and apparently the thing to do is to replace the oil with diesel and run the motor for 5 minutes, and most of this crap should get picked up by the filter, apparently. So I'll give that a go. There is no way of being able to ascertain the state of the crank and bearings. This does worry me, mainly because without knowing where theyre at, I could go to all the trouble of putting the motor back together, only to find myself having to do it all again in short order if theyre bad. I have to console myself with the thought that going to this level of trouble is seriously beyond my capability, and I'm just going to have to trust to luck that they're ok. The piston pins and shells are well within tolerance, so I'm figuring that they should be fine also. Additionally, they get supplied with oil under pressure from the oil pump, and at no stage have I seen the oil pressure cut out completely, so I'm clinging to hope on this one. I had known there was a serious oil leak from the engine, not before the mechanic in Newcastle had pointed it out, but it wasn't entirely obvious where it was coming from. I couldnt see anything dripping off whilst idling on the mooring, so i assumed it had to be a problem only evident whilst under load, and maybe even something to do with running in a heavy sea. Lifting the sole whilst underway at sea has not been an option because it can't be secured, and it's too dangerous anyway, so trying to find the leak hasn't gone much further than looking for evidence of dripping down the sides of the crankcase. One of the fittings for the oil cooler has been leaking (the one that requires the fancy homemade socket tool descibed above) and I'm thinking that this is where all the problems stem from. I wasnt sure at first because there is a cowling over it that directs air from the blower through the cooler and the cylinders, which makes it impossible to see whilst the engine is running, but once I got the blower and the cowlings off it is obvious that this is the source of the leak. So while I'm waiting for the head shop to do their thing I've taken on a few other projects. I stripped down the fresh water pump, because I've been concerned that it hasn't been priming itself, and it hasn't been switching on automatically when the pressure drops from draw down. This has been particularly annoying when your in the shower with a head full of shampoo. Traipsing through the boat leaving wet puddles everywhere, just to cycle the power switch for the pump gets very tedious. With the pump out of the way I get better access to the oily messy that is the front of the motor. I should be able to do a job on it to clean it all up eventually. I've also been looking at connecting up the VHF to a GPS source, so that it can access boat position. This is necessary for the DSC feature to work properly, and was never done when the unit was installed. In addition, I wanted to get a sub connected to the stereo I installed last year. Both of these jobs required access to the space immediately behind the panel at the back of the chart table. I had managed to install the stereo by wiring it through the hole I installed it into, but this was a tedious process, and I figured all along that it would be good if the lid on top could be hinged. I spent a great deal of time trying to work out how the top could be removed, fuguring that it must be screwed on from inside, but i couldnt locate any screws. I bought a USB endoscope to poke inside, but this proved to be far more difficult to use than I had imagined, especially interpreting just what it was looking at, and manipulating it in the required direction for a better view. I found a couple of screws in the liquor cupboard that seemed to be part of the problem, but I still could not get the top off. Eventually I got the shits with it and decided the only way was to implement irresistable force and see what broke. It turned out there were three screws along one side and three dowel joints along the other. I should have been able see all three screws as they were all partially removed, and fortunately there was only a little damage done! I plan not to use hidden screws to put it back together. With top down access to this space I could now solve a couple of mysteries that had baffled me. It turned out that the GPS in the cabin was completely separate to the one in the cockpit, and it was the cockpit GPS that was wired to the Digiboard for the computer on COM5. The cabin GPS turned out to be on COM7, which explained why my computer couldn't "see" it, I didn't know there was a COM7, and I had never thought the cockpit GPS would be wired to the computer, so I had never turned it on whilst I had been playing around. When I added COM7 to the connections for OpenCPN I suddenly had everything working, AIS targets showing up, no more error messages, yada yada. Hooray. Still to figure out is whether I can load a track into the cockpit GPS from the computer, because I think that this might be the one that the autopilot is listening out for. Hooking up the sub hasn't been a success story so far. I've been trying to use the mini molex plugs for power and audio, but haven't had any success finding the 6 pin audio plug. The 4 pin power plug I wired up doesn't seem to want to do the business. Not sure why, but you can bet your house that I've got the wiring wrong and I'll have to go and buy another plug. In the meantime I discovered that the speaker was kaput. The rubber moulding holding the cone in place had rotted, so now I'll have to source a new one. Another project underway is to connect the AIS to the radar so that targets will appear on its display. This requires an NMEA0183 connection between the two, which should be simple, but the greatest failing of this particular standard was to allow manufacturers to implement it as they saw fit. Consequently, it seems no two companies used the same plugs, and as a further consequence, you cannot just buy a cable to connect Furuno equipment to Camino. All cables come with a particular manufacturers plug on one end and bare wires on the other. It's a good thing thing I've got a soldering iron on board (and a spare, and a backup to the spare).

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