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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

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Project V: Pierced

Pairing: College!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky convinces you to get matching nipple piercings.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, mention of oral, piercing pain lmfao, these two being dumbasses as usual

A/N: Maaaaaaaan, seeing Seb with them piercings really hyped me up to write shit lmfao

Project V Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“Let’s get matching something.”

Bucky proposed as he lounged on your bed, his notes against his chest. You just got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around your chest with water droplets dripping from your neck down to your cleavage. You saw how Bucky’s eyes followed the droplets until it disappeared into your towel.

“Matching what?” You asked and started applying lotion all over your body.

Bucky’s ears turned red as he watched your hands slide up from your calf up to your thighs, the hem of your towel riding up a bit to expose your skin beneath. You snapped your fingers right in his face and made a face, “My eyes are up here, why the fuck are you so horny all the time?” you complained.

“You’re in a fucking towel and I can literally see your pussy from here. Of course I’m gonna feel horny!” he defended. “Anyway, matching something. What do you think?” Bucky asked again, turning to his side as he watched you continue with your post-shower routine.

You shrugged, “How about bracelets? Rings?” you suggested as you slipped on your underwear.

“Too basic.” Bucky said.

“Matching tats?” you asked and then gasped when an idea struck you. “Get a tattoo of my pussy and I’ll have your dick inked on my butt cheek.”

Bucky deadpanned at you, “Are you for real?” he asked. “Also, I don’t want matching tattoos. It’s too common. And Steve and Sam got matching tattoos. We gotta stand out ‘cause we’re not just regular best friends.” he explained, finally sitting up on your bed.

You were now clad in a loose shirt and skipped on the shorts. Turning around to face Bucky, you placed your hands on your hips. “You’re just jealous that Steve decided to get matching tats with Sam and not you.” you teased and sat down next Bucky on your bed.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Whatever.” he dismissed and thought about what else the both of you can get.

You were combing your hair when Bucky found himself staring at your tits, noticing your pebbled nipples straining through the thin fabric of your shirt.

And then had a eureka moment.

“Let’s get our nips pierced!”

“Can I still back out?” you asked, tugging Bucky’s hand as the both of you entered the tattoo parlor.

You refused to get your nipples pierced, you clearly remembered shooting that idea down as soon as Bucky suggested it. But Bucky, Bucky, Bucky...he had a way with his words and his tongue that made you cry out yes to his suggestion.

Fucking Bucky and his talent at cunnilingus. If that man tried to convince you to help him hide a dead body by eating you out, you would’ve started digging a grave as soon as he was done with you.

He was that good at it.

“Pussy.” Bucky teased.

“Using ‘pussy’ as an insult doesn’t make any sense because this pussy can take a pounding. You should know that better than anyone.” you spat back with a scowl.

Bucky frowned at you, “Okay, fine. I take that back. But no one’s backing out. C’mon, we’d be the coolest BFFs in town with these piercings.” he insisted.

You were about to retort back but was immediately cut off when a guy called both your names, confirming the appointment that was made a week ago. Bucky took your hand and pulled you with him further into the parlor, leaving you with no choice but to give in.

“Alright, so nipple piercings huh?” the guy asked. “Are we gonna do both...or?”

You raised your hand, “What’s the aftercare like?” you went straight to the point.

“Oh well, just don’t touch it for as long as you can. It takes about 6 months to a full year for it to completely heal. Wear a cotton bra or skip on it if possible. Try not to tug at the piercings so when doing the nasty, try not to include the nipples.” he explained so casually.

You turned to Bucky, “When doing the nasty, try not to include the nipples. You sure about this, Buck?” you asked, knowing how much Bucky loved playing with your tits during sex.

Bucky swallowed, “For how long should we avoid the nipple play?” he asked shamelessly.

“Couple of months to a full year.”

“Fuck!” Bucky hissed, ignoring how the piercer burst out laughing at his disappointment.

“So what? We still gonna do this or?” you asked.

Bucky pondered for a couple of seconds before letting out a sigh, “I really want us to be the coolest BFFs out there.”

The both of you decided to show off the piercings back at the dorm, wanting it to be a moment of surprise. The Uber ride was quiet for some reason, tension thick in the air.

“You screamed like a bitch back there.” you said, finally breaking the silence.

Bucky looked offended when he snapped his head towards you, “My pain tolerance is low, okay?” he excused. “And it really did hurt. At least I didn’t whimper like a whore.” he said.

It was true though, you did whimper like a whore getting fucked by three dicks all at once. You always thought you tolerated pain pretty well, getting a Brazilian was a regular thing for you and it never made you flinch. Nipple piercings though? Jesus fucking christ, you couldn’t even explain how much it fucking hurt.

You laughed sarcastically at Bucky’s rebuttal, “Better than screaming as if you were being pegged with no prep.”

As soon as you arrived at Bucky’s dorm, he scrambled to lock the door in hopes of Steve not coming home any time soon. He’d already seen you wearing Bucky’s boxers, he doesn’t need to see the both of you showing off your newly pierced nipples at each other.

“Okay. You ready?” Bucky asked as he stood in front of you.

“On three.” you said before starting off the countdown.

As soon as the countdown was over, Bucky reached for his shirt from behind, removing it at the same time you removed yours, followed by the thin bralette you wore underneath.

“Oh my god, we actually did it.” you snorted, looking closely at the ball closure ring that Bucky went for.

“Shit, I didn’t know you got straight barbells on yours.” Bucky asked, his eyes glued on your slightly red nipples. “Fuck, your tits look so good with piercings.” he grunted breathlessly.

You licked your lips and groaned at the confession you were about to make, “Look, I’m gonna be honest. I’m so fucking turned on right now.”

Bucky groaned, “Me too. Jesus, I thought I was gay because I got an erection when the dude pierced my first nipple. I mean, he was pretty handsome too.”

“I’m sure we can fuck but we just have to avoid the nips so just hit me from the back.” you said and quickly shimmied off your pants together with your panties.

Bucky rushed to remove his and went over to his bed, kneeling behind as you positioned yourself on all fours. You got so wet at the thought of Bucky’s nipples having piercings that you didn’t need that much foreplay to get ready. Bucky slid his fingers along your folds, gathering more wetness from your entrance before smearing it.

“Fuck, just get on with it!” you moaned and gripped the bedsheets tightly.

Bucky jerked his cock a couple of times before finally sliding easily into your cunt. He choked on his moan at the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around his hard cock. He had been hard too on the way home, no wonder there was tension in that Uber ride.

“Go fast and hard, I’m not gonna last.” you urged, pushing your ass back to meet Bucky’s thrusts.

Placing a hand on your neck and the other on your waist, Bucky fucked you the way you wanted. Thank goodness you started taking pills because Bucky didn’t have the patience to even put a condom on. He felt like he was going to nut as soon as his eyes landed on your pierced nipples, so perky and still swollen.

“Oh shit, fuck. I’m so fucking horny.” Bucky said, his jaw tensing as he watched your ass bounce every time he slammed back inside of you.

A couple more thrusts and your entire body trembled, a soft moan slipping past your lips when you came hard. Even without being touched, your nipples felt sensitive because of the piercings, the sensation only adding to your pleasure when you reached your orgasm.

“Shit, fuck. I gotta see those tits bounce. I can’t cum without seeing them.” Bucky said and pulled out to gently turn you around.

Now on your back with your legs spread open, Bucky slipped inside and continued to fuck you. His hands gripped the pillow beneath your head for leverage as he jackhammered you onto the bed, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as you felt another orgasm approach you.

You lifted your head up to meet Bucky’s lips in a kiss, moaning into his mouth when you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Your vision blacked out momentarily when you came for the second time. Just as when you regained your senses, Bucky got lost in his own orgasm that he completely forgot about the piercings. He grabbed your left breast and pinched your nipple, your scream joining his loud moan when he came.

“Fucking hell, Bucky!” you cried out, the pain too much to bear that you also didn’t notice that your hand clawed at Bucky’s right pec with your middle finger getting caught in his piercing, accidentally ripping it out in the process.

“Motherfucker!”

“What the hell happened? Are you both okay?!” Steve worriedly asked as soon as he arrived at the ER of a nearby hospital.

Upon getting Bucky’s voicemail about rushing to the hospital, Steve panicked and went there as soon as he could. He had been Bucky’s emergency contact for a long time now and he was used to receiving calls from police stations due to how often Bucky got himself in trouble, especially when drunk. But Bucky calling, sounding like he was in immense pain, telling him that he needed to go to the hospital?

It was the first time it ever happened so it was understandable for Steve to panic like a husband who got a call informing him that his wife was going into labor.

You and Bucky exchanged glances, faces red from embarrassment before nodding.

“We’re good.” you curtly responded, scratching your neck.

“What happened?” Steve asked again, brows furrowing as he looked at you and Bucky alternately.

You nudged Bucky’s ribs with your elbow, widening your eyes at him as you urged him to do the explaining.

“We uh...werippedouteachothersnipplepiercings.” he murmured to himself.

Steve frowned, “I didn’t catch a word that you said.”

“We ripped out each other’s piercings by accident.” you repeated, clearly and slowly this time.

“Did your earlobes get ripped off or what?” Steve asked, taking a closer look at both your ears.

Confusion washed over his face when he noticed that your ear piercings were still intact and that Bucky didn’t even have his ears pierced. Steve straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the both of you like a reprimanding father.

“What did the two of you do this time?”

A nurse stepped into the scene and offered Steve a kind smile before turning to you and Bucky, handing over a prescription.

“Make sure to follow the instructions when applying the ointment and both your nipples should heal properly.” she explained before walking out.

“Nipples?!” Steve gasped out.

Bucky sighed but shrugged in response, “At least we’re the coolest BFFs out there with matching nipple piercings.”

Everything Bucky Tag List:

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#bbb writes #project v #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #fem!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan

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pallasperilous · 5 years ago

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Boneless Wings

{AO3 version}

So, blah blah blah, it’s their standard-issue disaster: pack of dumbass witches (always with the dumbass witches. Where do they find the time for this shit? Somebody get these women signed up for a Peloton subscription or a macramé class or a vibrator of the month club, seriously, whatever it takes—), ancient curse, Castiel being the actual angel of stepping in it, nobody cares.

The point is, two hundred and forty-one hours of binge-worthy drama later, Dean and Cas are living in a semi-detached just a short thirty-minute commute to somewhere equally lame, Castiel has two literal-ass wings, and yes, Susan, they kiss now.

The neighbors are weirdly cool with it.

For those of you perving along at home, Dean could absolutely provide a list of the hundred or so ways that having a boyfriend* with giant fucking actual wings is super hot and/or awesome.

This is not that list.

(*you can just shut right the fuck up , Sam, because it’s either this or Dean will start saying lover. And nobody needs that. Nobody wants that.)

1. Bird mites. Holy shit.

2. Sharing a bathroom. The shower curtain rod, and consequently the security deposit, are early casualties. The medicine cabinet follows swiftly behind. Shower hijinks are not even an option.

3. Dean comes home one day from a gig and there is a giant plastic green turtle in the backyard. A closer inspection reveals that the turtle is actually a mule for about half a truck bed of industrial dust ‘n grit. It is, in fact, a kiddie sandbox. Dean points out that they do not, in fact, have a small child (FINGERS CROSSED), so...?

Cas then earnestly shows him an entire playlist of exotic birdy dust bath videos on Youtube.

Dean then earnestly shows him the garden hose.

4. The down just gets, like...everywhere. EVERYWHERE. How many times have Sam and Dean practically sold their kidneys for a single angel feather for some dumb spell to solve some pointless Occult McProblem? And now Dean is picking them out of his damn teeth every morning. (No, gross, not because of... Jesus, no, that is not a thing.)

On the upside of this one, Dean finally has an excuse to buy a Dyson, which he’s secretly always thought looked awesome. It is.

5. When Dean is scraping out the umpteenth canister of fluff he jokingly suggests they use some of it to supplement the tragically flaccid down comforter currently shaming their bed, and Castiel pitches an existential fucking sulk. Dean wants to experience happiness again, so he does not point out that it get ass-bitingly cold here this time of year, and decent bedding is not exactly inexpensive, and the Dyson kind of maxed them out on household purchases.

But whatever.

6. Castiel is indulging in what Dean thinks of as a sky pout when he flies right into a head-on with li’l Timmy NextDoor’s new Christmas surveillance drone. It dings the shit out of one of Cas’s left primary feathers (the scientific term is “those big motherfuckers”), which apparently hurts like a bitch. Cas is grounded for a few weeks after that and is cutely pathetic about it and at first Dean is absolutely down to kiss it better. By the end, Dean is almost ready to strangle Cas with his own necktie, but he has learned a lot of surprisingly interesting stuff about ancient Mesopotamia, like that it was super horny.

7. After the snow melts, Dean starts finding shit on the front step with the morning paper. It’s not even a good newspaper; Cas signed them up for the local fish-wrapper (or maybe it was Sam, before he fled for the hills— he occasionally breaks out in a “support local journalism” rash). The crossword puzzle is insulting, but the paper does at least syndicate Carolyn Hax, whom Dean secretly suspects of being an absolute wildcat in the sack, so he grudgingly expends the calories to bring it in every morning.

Anyway, at first the stuff he discovers crapping up the welcome mat is just shiny bits of trash — couple granola wrappers, some MGD pull-tabs, a few field-stripped twisty-ties. Probably just windblown, and he tosses it in the garbage can.

Then a couple weeks in, things start getting...grisly? It escalates real slowly, from a variety platter of mouse bits to squirrel à la power line and then half of a dry-aged raccoon and an opossum that has recently graduated from playing dead to professional dead-being. The neighborhood crows obviously love that their front step is now a roadkill café; Dean has to bat increasing numbers of them away with the kitchen broom in order to relocate their horrible snack to the edge of the nearest storm drain.

Then one morning there are like twenty crows and they’re in just the cutest little football huddle-up around what turns out to be a human fucking finger with a retro-fun mood ring still on the knuckle (it’s feeling: Sad) and Dean fully loses his shit.

Cas hears him freaking out and comes whomping out of the garage ready to, whatever, flap somebody to death maybe, but as soon as he establishes that Dean doesn’t need anything more than a fresh pair of boxers, he de-poofs a bit and assesses the whole human finger/crows situation in his usual infuriatingly unrushed way. The crows had mostly bounced up to the cable line over the house, safely out of brooming range, but one by one they start to drop down and hippity-hop back towards the world’s tiniest crime scene.

If Dean were five percent less freaked he’d be tempted to go inside and find out how much of a dent he can make in a six-pack before Castiel finally dings and spits out his results, but he isn’t, so he just stands there in silence clutching the broom like it’s a shotgun.

Eventually Cas says “hm,” and then he looks at the crows and makes some noises that sound like a spoon caught in a garbage disposal, and the crows make some scrawps and chuks back, and then one of them delicately noodges the tip of dead finger with its beak and then hippity hops back a foot or two, bows, and then they all fly away over the shitty little beige duplex across the street like they’re running ten minutes late to an important bird appointment.

Castiel stands up (Dean reflexively backs up into the doorway, as this involves Cas bomfing out his wings a bit for ballast and Dean has caught a blow to the nuts on more than one occasion), dusts off his goddamn slacks, pulls a plastic evidence baggie out of thin goddamn air or maybe his socks, and casually bags the finger like they’re doing a standard FBI wheeze. “So what,” Dean says, as Cas diligently zips the baggie, “the fuck?”

“Oh,” Cas says, blinking in surprise that Dean is still there and interested, “they think I’m their god.”

Dean kind of stares back at him, the six feet of dude and like sixteen feet of bird, and thinks sure, okay, but his face must still be stuck on “Tippi Hedren attic scene” because Cas puts a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder and adds “Don’t worry. I’ve told them I don’t require further offerings, and I reassured them that you’re my consort and were simply jealous of other potential mates.”

It takes Dean two weeks to come up with a response to that, but by then it’s become evident that no bird is ever going to shit on the Impala again, so he decides to just chalk it up in the win column and move on.

You know. The family business.

8. No matter how tightly he folds them, Cas can’t fit his wings through the definitely-not-up-to-code doorway of the wood-paneled family rec room in the basement, so Dean claims it as his man cave and dubs it the “No Fly Zone.”

Castiel doesn’t find this funny, but Dean really only uses it to fold laundry.

9. Transpo is an obvious issue. Cas can almost stuff himself into the Impala if he sort of reverse-cowgirls the back seat, but then the wingtips smoosh up against the windshield and Dean’s visibility is approximately zip. And, sure, Cas could fly himself anywhere they really needed to go, he’s basically a Chevy Of The Air, but sometimes it’s raining, and the seraph Castiel — Shield of God, Heavenly Soldier of the Lord, multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, will smell like a wet fucking chicken for days afterward. Febreze does not help.

Dean spends a few nauseating weeks contemplating the purchase of — and here he learns that the human gag reflex can be conditioned, but never truly eradicated — a convertible. Once Cas brings up the possibility of a minivan or perhaps a station wagon (he’s taken to studying family motor vehicles with all the intensity of a birder with a life list) and Dean makes him sleep on the couch.

Dean gets his own living room rotation after he shows Cas a Craigslist posting for a very reasonably priced horse trailer. Castiel points out that it’s used and Dean notes that neither of them is exactly mint in original packaging either. Castiel points out that he’s not a horse, and after a few necessary but admittedly unoriginal jokes, Dean pulls up a website with an exhaustive photographic tutorial on how to convert a horse trailer “for the safe and sanitary transport of ostriches, emus, and/or cassowaries.” Cas points out that he’s not an ostrich, emu, and/or cassowary, and Dean counters that he clearly isn’t, because an emu would probably show a little more gratitude, and that’s how Dean learns that the couch has a broken spring under the left cushion. The transpo issue remains unresolved.

10. Dean keeps a pair of shop-grade safety goggles by his side of the bed. It’s not the sexiest look, but it turns out feathers are stabby as hell when encountered at a particular angle. Cas can do the healy thing, of course, but they learn the hard way that cornea perforation is not really a mood enhancer. On the bright side, Castiel accidentally corrects Dean’s incipient presbyopia, which means Dean doesn’t have to hold the newspaper at arm’s length anymore when he’s idly speculating what Carolyn Hax looks like below the neck. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

11. You’d think that, when you’re coming down from a time-limited but incurable curse that makes you feel like every cell of your body has its own cute little individual headcold — because you missed a hex bag due to the fact that you were preparing your legal response to Sam turning up to the hunt wearing a goddamn hair scrunchy, as if he were fresh off the set of a very special episode of Clarissa Explains It All — anyway, you’d think that being wrapped in the warm embrace of an angel’s wings would be nice.

But you would be wrong, because apparently your boyfriend has been out communing with the bees again, and those feathers pick up ragweed pollen like it’s their goddamn job, and guess what else angels can’t cure? Dean will take Motherfucking Seasonal Allergies for 600, Alex.

12a. One of the neighbors has that homesteading hippie brain disease that drives an otherwise normal-seeming person to brew their own beer and raise a bunch of chickens despite living within five hundred yards of a fully functioning Hy-Vee. There’s a week where one of the wee little velociraptors seems to be processing some kind of trauma because it starts yelling at dawn and keeps going until well past the hour that swearing is allowed on network TV.

When Dean finally hammers on the front door the next afternoon the neighbor apologizes with some extremely nasty home-brew (HIPPIES) and some absolutely devastating weed (HIPPIES!) and explains that “Ginger is going through a rough molt” and then he kind of nods his head towards Dean’s side of the fence where Cas is futzing around in the squash plants and stage whispers (this is a direct quote) “You know how they get.”

Dean is about to rip the dude a new one for comparing his immortal space-kaiju lover to a fucking Australorp yard pullet when Castiel pops his head up over the white pickets and breezily contributes “Bad molt, yes, those are terrible, Dean can tell you all about how insufferable I am those weeks,” and sometimes Dean just doesn’t know why he even tries.

12b. The less said about angel molt, the better.

Seriously, the freakin’ eyes-on-his-hands naked mole rat dude from, whatsit, Pan’s Labyrinth of Subtitles, would run screaming from this shit.

13. There’s a 4th of July BBQ Potluck Block Party and Dean’s inability to stand idly by while good meat is abused ( shut up Sam ) means he winds up manning the grill and dismissing the pretenders to set some strictly inedible things on fire. Cas hangs out next to him and uses his flappers to kinda whupf the smoke away from Dean’s eyes now and then, which rules. It’s actually a pretty chill event until Sharon and Don From Number 4267, The Green House With The White Trim, turn up with a giant Pyrex full of naked, still-marinating teriyaki wings.

Sharon And Don look down at their wings and then up at Castiel and then down at the wings and then up at Castiel and they are clearly teetering on the edge of a Midwestern politeness failure-based nervous breakdown. But then Cas, smooth as a margarine commercial, gently takes the dish from Sharon’s frozen hands, examines the contents for a silent moment, and says “it’s alright. They weren’t personal friends.”

He gets an extra burger for that one.

14. Cas keeps absent-mindedly trying to groom Dean — who, in case it still needs to be said at this point, possesses zero-point-zero feathers of his own — so he goes after Dean’s hair, instead. Dean has to stop him after his second hour of trying to straighten out a cowlick. “I don’t understand how you can steer properly with this deformity,” Cas says, as if it’s a genuine miracle that Dean isn’t constantly careening over ottomans like Dick Van Dyke. He’s even more horrified by Dean’s (frankly minimal) use of hair gel. “Jesus, Cas, it’s not like I’m drinking it,” he says, but then one time they have an epic make-out session shortly after Dean performs his masculine beauty rituals and there’s some smearage of various types of Product (tm) on the flappy areas.

And, sonuvabitch, for the next six hours Cas is spirographing around the house like he has a heavenly inner ear infection, and he only stops veering into the doorframes after Dean wipes down every. Single. Feather. With mineral oil and about eighteen clean shop cloths. Dean switches to something called hair wax, which costs thirty zillion times more per ounce and makes him smell vaguely like church, but is a lot less gloppy. The things we do for love.

15. Seating inside the house is a bit of a conundrum, too. Cas can kind of flop his wings out to the sides if he sits in the middle of the couch, but then Dean’s stuck on the recliner, which is basically in the next county. Bar stools are disastrously tippy, Dean’s lower back and hips have not endured mumble-mumble years of hunting just to be subjected to a damn beanbag chair, and, after a brief flurry of optimistic excitement, Dean determines that they’d have to take the front door off to get a massage chair in. He finds a swing online that if, he can get the hardware properly installed in the crossbeam, is rated for up to 500 pounds, so he texts Cas the URL so he can check out the specs. After half an hour he writes back —

CASTIEL: Dean

CASTIEL: I believe this swing is intended for sexual congress.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: I can infer from the ellipsis that you have spent several minutes attempting to draft a response.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: Dean

DEAN: it’s multipurpose

16 . On the plus side, though, big-ass wings make for a pretty good drying rack. He can get every sock in the house laid out on those suckers in a single round and, one episode of Dr. Sexy later, they’re perfectly dry and toasty warm, without any of the pair-busting casualties Dean has learned to expect from the apparently socknivorous dryer in the basement.

Dean assumes it’s just the product of good air circulation and body heat until he realizes that he hasn’t had to toss a pair for being too worn out in...maybe six months? So he asks Cas “Are your wings... healing the socks” and after an entire Abbott and Costello routine centering around heal versus heel, Dean determines that the answer is: yes, his boyfriend’s wings are channeling the almighty power of Heaven to magically repair the socks Dean buys at Target in twelve-pack bags. On sale.

This is actually kind of sexy, if Dean is being perfectly honest, so, you know what? It doesn’t belong on this list.

16. So nobody really freaks out or bursts into tears or calls the news or the FBI or anything when Cas goes out in public with him, which Dean is secretly a little disappointed about, because come on. (Maybe giant wings just reads as a gay thing? Was there an episode of Will and Grace about this that Dean missed back when he was ass deep in wendigos or something?)

But no. Dudes tend to just glance at them across the Home Depot parking lot, throw them the Mutual Dude Acknowledgement Nod, and say some shit like “Comic-con,” or “nice anime” in a knowing tone. Then they go back to rolling their carts full of gaskets or hammers or whatever back to their mom’s station wagon.

Little girls tend to go googly-eyed — Castiel seems to fall into the same category as a Disney princess, despite the stubble and the drabcore wardrobe, and Dean can’t count the number of times some mom has approached Dean at the grocery store (like he’s Castiel’s manager?? Which, okay...yeah, actually) and asked if they do birthday parties. The money would actually be pretty tempting if Dean weren’t five thousand percent sure that Cas would get them both arrested by launching into an anatomy lesson about duck sex or how God is a loser who favors relaxed fit jeans and Wild Turkey.

The worst is white ladies of a Certain Age, and it always seems to happen in the pudding aisle, for some reason. They either go cross-eyed with horniness and become indiscriminately handsy (Dean can’t blame them for the impulse, but also back off, Karen), or ask Cas for prayers for their cat’s chronic asshole problems (which Castiel WILL take seriously).

Worst of all is when some hippie spinster clocks them. This woman inevitably reaches right for the feathers and asks in a willowy voice if they’d ever consider turning some of them into dreamcatchers to sell at her studio, which is literally always named The Faerie’s Glen. Then Cas gets confused about why, exactly, a sixty year-old WASP in a peasant skirt would need to call on the infant-protection powers of an Ojibwe spider goddess, while Dean just wants to bite the lady’s fingers off.

Either way, it’s always a bad scene, and many fully loaded grocery carts have been lost to the fallout.

17. For some metaphysical reason Dean is too dumb to suss out but also too smart to question, lugging a pair of Cessna-sized flappers around this mortal dimension actually seems to tucker Cas out. He doesn’t need to zonk out every night, but he semi-regularly throws in the towel and actually crawls in with Dean for the duration.

This would be swell in theory, but the guy absolutely cannot settle the fuck down in less than three (3) human hours, which is the exact amount of sleep Dean requires to maintain his famously sunny demeanor. It’s not just ye olde tossing and turning — Dean can handle that, sharing a bed with Sam is like sleeping next to a kangaroo with restless leg syndrome — no, it’s a nonstop parade of little flippy-flappies and shiffle-shuffles and spontaneous outbursts of preening.

So Dean makes him a Baby Sleep Sack.

This is something Dean knows about due solely to one super dumb hunt involving a banishing sigil that had to be drawn in — he still feels like this had to be a misprint — human breastmilk, and that was obviously not happening. But the monster of the week wasn’t going to banish itself, so they wound up at the nearest Walmart, at 4am, picking up what turned about to be an unnecessarily generous supply of baby formula, along with a fresh box of shotgun shells because God bless America*. It doesn’t work, although “lots of stabbing” turns out to be a solid fallback plan, but the point is that while Sam was debating between Digestion Support or Neurological Development, Dean acquired an unprecedented familiarity with some of the products currently available to the sleep-deprived parent. So Dean finds some DIY Baby Sleep Sack knockoff patterns online and determines he can replicate and scale up the concept with some beach towels and duct tape, and the next morning he presents the lumpy but totally functional prototype to Castiel.

Initially Cas thinks it’s a sex thing (reasonable, it probably is), but once they clear up that misunderstanding, he’s obviously a little peeved by the concept of being swaddled as if he were a gassy baby instead of a deathless sky monster in a sexy dude-shaped can. But Dean must be giving off some serious man on the edge vibes because Cas grudgingly agrees to let Dean tape him up the next time he’s feeling dozy.

It’s real awkward and takes forever to get Cas bundled up right, and then he’s just kind of lying there on top of the sheets, like an enormous, grumpy baked potato.

“I could easily break out of these restraints,” he says in a pissy tone after Dean has crawled in and turned off the light, and Dean rolls over to tell him “no shit”, but then he has to stop himself because the guy is already asleep.

Eventually they upgrade to a version made out of some of those trendy weighted blanket things, a few yards of parachute silk, and a whole lot of velcro. The dude looks so damn peaceful that Dean is honestly a little jealous.

*he doesn’t, actually.

18. There’s a sunny afternoon that isn’t the usual Kansas is trying to murder you level of humid so Dean rolls the Impala out into the street for a wash. Cas helps him out a bit initially, although tragically not in a way that involves removing any unnecessary articles of clothing, but Deans sends him to grab a new tub of wax from the shed and he never comes back. After half an hour Dean needs a beer break and goes looking for him, expecting to find Cas lost in thought over whether Turtle Wax is made of actual turtles, or is made to put on actual turtles. Instead he finds Cas crouched on the shimmering pavement at the back of the driveway, sun beating down on him like it has a personal vendetta, and he’s got both wings stretched out real low above the ground. Dean kind of flips out because it’s the type of pose that just screams “stabbed in gut by angel blade” or “migraine from Hell, literally.”

Then Cas looks up, which pulls his wings up a smidge too, which in turn reveals that fully half a dozen neighborhood cats are lounging in the shady patch beneath his wings, spread out on the concrete like blobs of furry peanut butter. No, it’s actually eight cats. There are eight cats.

“Ling-Ling was feeling a little overheated,” Cas says, as if this explains everything.

And, you know what, at this point, it does.

19. Dean has faith that eventually Sam or Cas or the third demon from the left in the second row will turn up a solution for the whole business. Castiel will get to tuck those bad boys back into the secret wing-closet dimension and he won’t have to worry about getting stuck in stairwells anymore, or being reported to the FAA (again). Then they can finally pack up the house, plaster over the more egregious spots of drywall damage, and go back to killing things outside of the tri-county area. The whole thing has been a pretty embarrassing interlude for a couple of dudes who’ve kicked Satan’s ass multiple times — Sam is probably telling other hunters that they’ve been deep undercover to take out a nest of suburban vampires, or a pack of ghouls with mortgages, instead of vacuuming angel down out of the AC unit and considering a Costco membership.

And sure, there have been some...serious pluses to the situation (see: the other list), but, in his weaker moments, Dean has to admit that he’s kind of going to miss some of the goofy, irritating shit, too — like finding a six-inch feather in the veggie crisper (how? why?), or watching Cas fwap his wings out just in time to accidentally clothesline a jogger, or even the strangely compelling, sorta cheesy smell that starts to float around the house if Cas goes a little too long between hosedowns.

He has actually grown fond of this shit. Which is 100% the least sexy thing on earth, it’s some genuinely, seriously pathetic goo goo crap, and that’s why nobody will ever hear a fucking word about it. People will ask “so what’s it like, with the wings” and Dean will waggle his eyebrows suggestively and review the highlight reel over an inadvisable amount of rail whiskey. His secret’s safe with, well. Him.

20. Seriously though, the bird mites.

Gross.

#deancas #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #wingfic #or maybe...#wingsquick #spn fanfic #spn fanart #spn crack #sorry everybody #now with pictures!#pallasperilous art #pallasperilous fic #pallasperilous crack

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 4 years ago

Text

Undercover - Chapter 3

Chapter Selection

Few days later

I woke up at 5am with my alarm blaring. I turn it off covering my face with the pillow then taking a deep breath and standing up. Going to the kitchen I brew a pot while taking a shower.

Using my lavender shampoo and conditioner then washing them out. I look down and see Aarons body wash and I chose to use that instead.

When I finish my shower my coffee is ready and its 5:20am. While getting dressed my phone lights the room.

Aaron - Morning, when you come in today go straight to my office; I wanna ask you something

Y/N - Okay, I should be there in about half and hour

I grab my things and go to the parking lot; getting into my car and heading to work. It was a short drive occasionally getting some texts from Aaron.

Walking into the building I pass Reid, joining him in the elevator. "Morning", I could see him shuffling getting closer to the doors so he could leave.

"Morning", with that the doors opened and he rushed out going to his desk. I shrug off what's happening with him, putting my stuff at my desk then straight to Aarons office; I knock on the door.

"Come in", he still kind of had his morning voice. It was deep and gravely, "What's this about."

He leans back putting his pen on the desk, "Can you shut the door please." Shutting the door he resumes, "I wanted to ask you out on a date."

Oh I looked a little surprised, "That'd be nice." I take a seat in front of him, "Dinner?"

"I could eat", I flash him a smile; getting up over to his chair and sitting on his lap. His large hands automatically moving to my hips and ass.

I brought my hands to cup his face, "Good Morning."

My lips pressed to his, biting his bottom lip. Getting a groan from him he moved a hand into the waistband of my pants. My hands making its way into his hair and tugging.

I moved away before it got too heated, but the damage was done.

"Well hello", I could feel him underneath me; I grinned and shifted on his lap, "Fuck." He said through his teeth, "You love teasing me don't you."

I smiled and met his gaze. "It's what I'm best at luckily for you I'm willing to help with your- uh problem."

I palm him through his pants him groaning in my ear. I sank to my knees looking into his eyes; I undid his belt. He lifted his hips so I could pull him out.

Taking him out of his boxers, his cock smacking his stomach before going straight.

He was bigger than any of the men I've been with. I knew he was packing but damn, I thought to myself.

I pump him a few times before flatting a stripe from the base all the way up his shaft, running my tongue along his tip with small little circles.

"Little girl please", he groaned; I internally smiled to myself. I wrapped my mouth around him; hollowing my cheeks. Aaron laid his head on the back of his chair.

I relaxed as I pushed him all the way till he hit the back of my throat.

I pumped what I couldn't fit; His hand found it's way into my hair guiding my movements up and down. He hissed when my tongue flatted on the underside of his cock. Aaron bucked his hips forcing himself into me.

I quickened my pace, my lungs burning from the lack of oxygen; tears springing from the corners of my eyes. He looked at me in awe never breaking eye contact.

"Baby I-", I could feel his dick twitch and I quickened my pace. I wanted to taste him, I hummed around him pushing him over the edge.

"Be a good girl", I swallowed every last drop. He cleaned up the sides of my mouth and put himself back into his pants.

I gave him a long kiss, walked to the door and unlocked it; walking down the ramp to my desk. Hotch sent me a text. He opened his blinds so I could see him.

Aaron- I'll pick you up at 7, and wear something fancy

________________________________

It was 6:00 and I still needed to get ready; I got side tracked from cleaning my apartment. I get undressed and took a shower washing everything and shaving everything. When I got out it was 6:20.

I curled my hair once it was dry; I throw on some black heels and a tight black dress with a slit going to my mid thigh. It was exactly 7pm when I heard a knock at my door.

I saw it was Aaron and I opened the door. He wore a black dress shirt that hugged his frame and black pants. Aaron eyed me up and down. "You look gorgeous', he wouldn't stop looking; it made my face red.

"And you sir are very handsome", he held out his arm and we walked to his car. I held on to his bicep; he went ahead and opened my side of the car. He got in and headed to the restaurant, his hand on my thigh the whole drive.

We arrive at a strip there are multiple things lighting the street. He opens my side holding out his hand. "Thank you", he walked us over to an Italian restaurant.

"Reservation for Hotchner", the women takes a second; "Ah here we are right this way." Our table is in the corner of the room so we can view everything.

I ordered the Chicken Marsala and Aaron ordered the Spaghetti Carbonara. I had 3 glasses of white wine and was tipsy. The conversation was light half taking about work the other half about our hobbies and other friends.

"Check please", Aaron held onto my hand on the table. "What are we doing now", I said excitedly. "I wanted to walk around for a bit", I gripped his hand; nodded and we left.

He took me to a park not too far from the restaurant; there were lights hanging in the trees and was well lit till we got to the water.

I heard the waves smacking against the rocks below us. There was a warm breeze; we began walking along the water.

This time I grabbed his hand; interlacing our fingers. "Y/n", I tilt my head looking to the side.

I hummed, he takes a deep breath. "On your first case when you were basically sleeping on me", I started to giggle.

"I saw that there were uh- scars running down you back", I tensed up an closed my eyes almost completely letting go of him but he held on.

I wanted to hide an lock myself away those were memories I didn't need to be reminded of but he wanted to know. "Y/n what happened." His voice was low and soft like he was trying not to scare me away.

I stopped in my tracks tugging on his hand to turn around, "My ex husband...he was great at first, after about a year he started to get aggressive.

Always snapping at me for no reason hitting me, one da-." I looked away avoiding his eyes trying to blink away the tears.

"One day I decided I had enough and tried to fight back then leave. He tied me to the bad post on my stomach while he dragged the knife across my back. He would take his time saying 'This is what you deserve'."

"He kept me there for a few days till he let me go and threated me. I got away but I don't know what happened to him after that." Aarons face was written with sadness traces of tears in his eyes.

I was still avoiding facing him but he grabbed my chin gently and making me look at him. There were tears streaming down my face, my make-up was smudging.

He moved his hand from my chin to my cheek cupping it. "I would never do that to you, understand."

He let out a sigh, "My god y/n." He held my waist pulling me towards him. I threw my arms around his neck standing on my toes, I put my head on his shoulder crying.

"Can you take me home", I said in a whisper. Aaron nodded, "Of course."

We walked to the car and then drove me home, I was holding his hand the whole drive. He walked me to my door, "Goodnight....just know you can always talk to me...okay?"

I gave him a weak smile, "Okay."

I opened the door and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight", and I shut it going straight to bed.

____________________________

2 weeks later

I wake up at 2am unable to go back to sleep. The thought of my ex running the blade on me makes me stiffen up and wanna break down.

I reach for my phone scrolling through my contacts.

My finger hovering over Hotchs determining if I really wanna bother him with this. I click his name; the phone ringing and he picks up.

"Hotchner", I smirk to myself; just hearing is voice relaxes me.

"Hey it's y/n", I hear him sit up waking up a bit more. "What is it?", I really don't wanna bother him.

"It uh- nevermind", he shuffles and I sit up. "No it's okay you can tell me"

"I'm just... having trouble sleeping."

"Can you maybe come over, you don't have too If-", he cuts me off.

"It's not a problem I'll be there." We both hang up; I get up waiting for him.

Someone knocking on my door; I open it, "Hey." I said sounding small still feeling like a burden.

He had a bag on his shoulder and he drops it on the couch. Hotch tugs my hand to sit on the stool, "How are you really", I honestly didn't know how to answer that.

I've been having some trouble sleeping. I've noticed that I'm drinking a little more than I usually do.

"I'm not sure, but I've been having trouble sleeping, been drinking a little more. My ex is basically haunting my dreams right now. I don't remember the last time I had a good nights sleep by myself."

Aaron looking at me genially listening to what I have to say, like he actually cares.

He grabs my hand and I continue. "The only time I'm actually okay is... with you."

He brings me towards him kissing my temple, "I think you're the first person to say that an mean it." I push him back a little bit, "Come on I'm being serious." He chuckles and I pout a bit.

We sit there for another half an hour mainly talking about my problems.

I end the conversation grabbing his hand an pulling him to the bedroom. I get under the covers and he lays next to me.

My back against his torso; his hand tracing my spine. Placing kissing up and down my jaw an neck.

He sucks gently leaving behind light purple marks. I moan but I cut him off flipping to face him.

"Now now we'll have time for that tomorrow, but right now I just wanna sleep." Pouting a bit, but he understands.

He lays on his back, my face on his chest I trace the scars on his stomach.

Tangling our legs together I find his hand lacing our fingers. His deep breaths on the top of my head relaxes me, "Goodnight little girl."

Aaron POV

I wake up in her arms, the sun peaking through the curtains illuminating her face.

She’s gorgeous, I whisper into her ear, "I'll always be here. I'll never hurt you." She shifted and moved her hand to my side.

We hadn't discussed what this was but I already knew what I wanted; I said to her, "I want you to be mine and I wanna be yours." She lifted her head and looked at me.

"Really?", want and need flashed through her eyes. "Really", I said in a reassuring tone. She cupped my face and crashed her lips with mine.

I pulled away looking her in her eyes, "Now now we'll have time for that later." I got up and headed to the shower. Getting back at her for saying that to me last night.

I walked away with a huge ass smile.

Leaving her on the bed in a shock. I stepped into the shower letting the hot water run down my body.

Y/n POV

He wanted me; he just left me hanging. He's not getting away that easy. I opened the shower curtains and stepped in after him.

Wrapping my arms around his waist running my hands down his stomach and to his shaft.

His breath hitches and he started to harden. He turned around; not a second goes by and his lips smashing into mine.

His tongue swipes along my bottom lip. I let his in and he bites my lip, I groan into the kiss.

I go to move my hands along his cock but he slams me on the tile wall pinning my hands above my head; the water running down his body. Droplets of water dripping of his hair on to my skin.

My back arching from the cold surface, "I do the touching, understand." I didn't know what to say.

I whimpered and he jolted onto me; in a stern voice he said, "Come on little girl use your words."

I kiss him biting on his lip almost drawing blood; I pull away and stare into his eyes, "I understand."

"Good girl", he dragged his movements bringing his hand to my inner thigh and grabbing.

I suppress my moan just begging for him to finally touch me. He got closer an closer to where I needed, teasing me but never giving me release.

"Please", I whimpered. His mouth got close to my ear, "Okay baby." His fingers finally doing circles on my clit as he nibbled on my ear lobe.

I moved me hips to gain some extra friction.

"Baby", I cried out. "I want you jus-", he slipped a finger into my wet pussy thrusting in and out hitting my g-spot.

He inserted a third finger; combined with his thumb rubbing it was beginning to be too much. Just as I was about to tip over the edge he stopped.

He pulled out his finger and I cried out, "Why'd you stop." With out warning he slammed his cock into me not letting me adjust to his size.

He brought his hand to my throat lightly choking me. Pounding into me still holding me into place, he pressed harder around my neck.

I put my leg up on the side of the tub. Fucking me from a new angle I pull him into another kiss. His mouth muffling my moans.

He signals me upwards and I wrap my legs around his waist.

I throw my head back in euphoria as I get closer to my high. Aaron thrust start to falter, I can feel him pulsating; he's close too.

I clench around him and he releases a loud moan. He hisses through his teeth, "Fu- baby just like that."

"Aaron", I moan out breathlessly as my high washes over me. He slows his movements riding it out; making me feel every inch.

He resumes his pace pounding into me when I pull his hair leaning his head to the side; I nip, kiss, and suck on his neck leaving my mark on him.

He moaned loudly into my ear taking both of my hands and pinning them back over my head. His thrust became sloppy and he twitched inside me.

He pressed his forehead to mine and gave me a long kiss as he pulled out. I winced and he pulling me into the water putting shampoo into my hair, "You did so good baby." Massaging my scalp while placing kisses on my shoulder.

Rinsing it out and washing my body I do the same for him. We step out of the shower and get dressed.

"Did you wanna get some breakfast." While getting dressed, "Yeah that's good, maybe we can invite the team too. Honestly I haven't really talked to them all that much this week."

"I'll call them", I smile and we go get breakfast. "Oh and I wanted to talk to you about Reid."

____________________________

@mac99martin @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @appleblossoms-posts @marie1115

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #reader x aaron+hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #fanfic #criminal minds #hotch smut

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jeonandjoonie · 4 years ago

Text

Just One Day

posted on wattpad and this tumblr only.

You have a crush on your boxing T.A. college au. Jungkook X Reader.

word count: ~10,900k

W: NONE

================================================

Kids.

You couldn’t believe that for your last semester in college you would have to take a physical education class. You still curse your advisor when you remember the day.

You were walking happily to your appointment prepared to turn in your graduation application only to be told that you were not set to graduate. Your previous advisor didn’t notice the unfulfilled requirement. You almost cried and immediately went to your apartment to search up any physical Ed classes that would satisfy the requirement.

Of course being so late in registering, all the basic classes such as Yoga, Gym, and Dance were filled. You looked over the list, even weight training had a waitlist of 5. You were beginning to feel hopeless as you saw Judo and Tennis having a waitlist as well. There must be an open one!!

And how much your heart delighted when you noticed a class that was full but had no waitlist! Your eyes immediately crossed over to the left to see what class it was.

Boxing.

Taken back, you pushed back the stress from clouding your mind. Thinking of having to not only work out but be punched down Sighing, you quickly clicked on the class to register accepting your doom. Another couple hundred dollars invested into your degree, taking a class you were not interested in.

With the start of the semesters you passed through all your classes easily already feeling like a master in your discipline. You walked happily from class to class. You were especially happy that your internship and student work study all fit perfectly within your schedule.

You plopped yourself onto your tiny single bed. In a few hours you’ll have to get ready for your first day of Boxing. 3-hour class, two times a week, it made you want to cry. Your classes started at 6 and it was past 4 when you got to your apartment, so you quickly went to your kitchen to eat. You wanted your food to be digested before class to prevent yourself from vomiting.

You settled for some leftover mango rice and smoked salmon that accumulated from days before. Neither were yours, but you and your three other roommates agreed that when food has been in the fridge for more than two days it’s a free for all.

"Hey, __" your roommate, literally roommate which you share your room with, patted your head as she passed you. "Do you want to do our nails and talk about our 5-year plans and then eat ice cream?" She shouted from your shared bedroom.

" Sorry, can’t!" You shouted back to her, "I got that boxing class tonight!" You continued to shout even though she was now in front of you. You wanted the whole world to hear your misery.

"Oh, that sounds like fun!" She responded leaning onto the counter

" Ugh. Please, it’s going to be such a waste of time. Punching people is one thing but having to let someone punch me sounds so annoying" you complained putting your dishes in the sink.

"Stop crying, I’m sure they won’t have you fight anyone. I bet it’ll just be like learning posture or something. It’ll probably just be the basics".

"True... Anyways do you have any clothes I can borrow real quick? I didn’t have time to buy any"

"Sure, What’s the dress code"

“I dunno, the guy just said casual and comfortable for the first day", you thought it over " just sweats, I have a t-shirt. Please!"

When you asked for sweats you didn’t think it was going to be an issue. Sweats are pretty much one size fits all. You should have known better as you looked at yourself in your floor length mirror. Minah's gray sweats were clinging to your butt and legs.

"Oh my god Minah, what is your size? a size negative zero, I feel like I’ll explode. Did you get this at the kids’ section".

"Shut up, those are the only ones I have…they kind of shrunk when I washed them" she mumbled the last part. You knew Minah was skinnier than you, but you didn’t expect it to be this much maybe just a size or two. "they don’t even look that bad, they fit really snug on me after the wash".

Seeing your disappointing stare, she quickly fusses over you. "Fine. Bend down, run, jump or do whatever boxers do. Let’s see how they look".

You jumped, kicked, and ran in place. You dropped it low a couple times to feel the strain on your thighs and butt.

"I mean…I guess they’re okay" you studied yourself again "you know what, it’s no big deal it’s like I’m wearing yoga pants"

Minah laughed "You’re so right! why are we even discussing this?"

You looked at her putting on a pout "they look like yoga pants, but they feel like they’re about to rip. Look, my pockets are sticking out!"

Finally getting annoyed with you, Minah sighed loudly throwing her hands up in a dramatic flair "Wear them, don’t wear them. Hurry up cause it.." she looks at her rose gold wrist watch with faux diamonds around the frame, the one you gifted her for Christmas. Yes, you are proud of your gift. "Oh my gosh, __ you need to go it's 5:50! Isn’t your class at 6?" Minah looked at you with wide eyes.

"What?!" you squeaked. You didn’t want to be late, you couldn’t given the fact that you were on the waitlist. You can’t give off a bad impression now. "Oh my…oh my gosh" you muttered to yourself quickly, slipping on a black t-shirt. You grabbed your bag and ran towards the front door to slip on your black shoes. Which was a struggle and you later realized it would have been easier and maybe faster to untie them and then put them on.

You reached out for the door handle only to have it hit you against your forehead.

"Oh my gosh" three voices chorused at the same time.

Sohee your other roommate gasped as she grabbed your arm to inspect your injury. However, you simply brushed her away as you were already late. "__, wait are you okay, I’m so sorry"

"It's fine, I’m good!” you yelled back as you ran the two blocks to your campus. only to getting slightly lost as you turned a right and not a left. You didn’t even have time to blame it on your possible concussion. Can you get a concussion? you don’t know. But you almost threw up with nerves when you realized you made the wrong turn.

You need to get into this class. Your graduation depended on it. Although you’re sure they will squeeze you in when they realize you’re a senior, you still want to be in good standing with the instructor if you planned on slacking off in class.

Reaching the gymnasium doors, you tried to control your breathing. You haven’t run this fast since you had to run miles in middle school. You felt dizzy and tried hard not to think about your burning calves.

Inside looked nothing like you thought it would. You imagined dark lights, punching bags, and maybe some weights. However, there were only large mats laid out on the floor. A small group of students seated in front of what you figured is the instructor. You quickly ducked your head trying to hide yourself as you sat down in the back. There were two other people standing next to him wearing head gear and strapping on boxing gloves.

"And who is the new intruder?" the instructor, Mr. Kang or Mino, questioned out loud.

You shyly smiled (or what you thought was a cute shy smile) when in reality you looked like a nervous wreck, trying to hide the fact that your legs were burning and you were breathing too hard. Hmm? was that sweat running down your neck.

"I’m ___, I should be on the waitlist"

Mino made a huge show of flipping the pages of his clipboard. "Ah yes __, I see you here. Well if you still want this class you’re in luck because three people dropped out this morning"

Even though you were practically hyper venting in your seat and you're pretty sure the sweatpants were cutting your circulation. You felt such a relief wash over you.

“Just don’t make a habit out of being late, 25 minutes is unacceptable, 5 more and I would have kicked you out. Next time make sure to email me beforehand"

If you didn’t look like a nervous wreck before, you sure did now. You nodded your head too afraid to speak from the embarrassment.

"Come get your syllabus after class, we’ve already gone over it”, he looked around “Everyone this is why I stress that you should attend every class and be here on time, every moment is important" he clapped his hands, “now for the fun part: the demonstration”. He turned towards the two people standing at his side, “like I said these are two of my excellent students who are in boxing III, they volunteered their time to be here and help me teach this course. so please give them the same respect you will give me" he turned towards them once more giving them a nod as a sign to begin. The two guys started to face each other and sway around.

"These are more advanced moves, we won’t be learning these in this course but I want you to see..."

The instructor's voice drifted off as you watched the two guys start to move and jab at each other. They were fast and moving so quick on their feet. Your eyes lingered on to their legs. Interesting…very interesting. With these types of demonstrations maybe this class wouldn’t be so bad.

The two guys continued to "punch" each other bouncing in their spot. "Whoos" can be heard from the students around you who knew what was happening. It did look like the one in all black was beating the one in a blue shirt. The guy in blue was larger than the other which says a lot since they both look fit.

You were startled out of analyzing as Mino clapped his hands, "Okay. Okay, guys that’s enough thank you".

He applauded and everyone followed along. As did you, poking your head in between the seated bodies in front of you trying to get a better look of the guys. The guy in all black had tattoos on his hand and arm. The one in blue had a tattoo running up his neck. You were curious to see how it would spread out on his body. When he fully took off his head gear, wow….

Oh….

Wow…

You were amazed. These guys are so handsome. They are the straight definition of charming. You almost wanted to reprimand him for risking his stunning features. He gave a boxy smile "Hi, everyone my name is Taehyung".

“Hi Taehyung” a couple of aspiring class clowns responded back.

"Hi, I’m Jungkook" the voice next to him said.

Your eyes turned to him. The one in all black. To say your heart stopped would be an understatement because you are sure your brain cells did to. You froze in your spot, zoning in on his pretty face. Noticing the way his eyes crinkle despite his attempt to look serious. The charm and absolute power that oozed out of him was no intimidation to you, for your newfound adoration for his aura and beauty captivated you more. So much that you are willing to freeze in the spot if it resulted in you taking him in.

You continued to stare at Jungkook. This time zoning in on his lips, not yet picking up on his squinted eyes trying to meet yours for he felt you blunt stare and felt slightly amused. Jungkook, what a guy, what a man, what a-

“Okay class, let’s begin some basic moves everybody! Get to the mats".

Upon hearing more chatter and the squeaks of shoes, like on autopilot your body stood up. You were out of your trance once you realized you were staring at the back of Jungkook's neck. You quickly got into a spot in the back corner wanting a place where no one will see if you happened to rip your sweats or see your lame attempt at following along. You tried to make sure you have a view on that Jungkook guy, but blocking your view was a couple other people. You didn’t even have the privilege of seeing his calf. You decided to just admit defeat and listen to Mino. The class began with basic exercises that seemed even more difficult than the jumping jacks and squats you did in your room earlier.

"Hey are you alright?". You jumped back upon hearing a voice at your side, "Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, are you good?"

It was Taehyung.

"Huh, wha- why?.. no, no I’m good"

"Okay it just seemed like you were struggling a bit”

"No I’m fine. Everything is fine…haha" you said as you lunged your leg forward like everyone else did to show him you were right on track. Can he notice the agony on your face that was caused by the ridiculous sweats?

“How about your forehead?” he asked, pointing to his own, upon seeing the confusion in your eyes.

“OH” you exclaimed a little too loudly, placing a hand on your forehead.

Taehyung gave you a short smile and a short nod as he jogged up to his spot in front of your section.

How considerate. As the exercises began you were now aware of Taehyung eyes. He tried to act like he was casually glancing at you and not keeping an eye on you. You would love to say it was due to that fact that he thought you were cute, but you knew it was because of the sweat that now adorned your face and the puffs that escaped your mouth. You haven’t exercised properly in ages.

As you continued your moves you were beginning to feel itchiness from the band around your ankles. You lifted the band as much as you can, only to be horrified with the deep red marks imprinted around your ankles. You looked up in shock meeting Taehyung's eyes. He immediately rushed to your side .

“Are you crazy?” He asks you with wide eyes “You need to go change”

“I’m okay” you tried keeping your voice hushed as to contour Taehyung's loud exclamation that had people around you turning their heads.

“No, this is bad,” Taehyung said, trying to find Mino to gain his attention.

“No, No, I’m fine” you hiss at Taehyung “Go away”.

Taehyung ignores you as he stands at high alert waiting for Mino to come to your side. You noticed Jungkook trailing behind him.

As the two men approached, Taehyung simply pointed at your ankles which were lamely covered by your hands.

Jungkook rushes to your side and tries to lift your sweats to see the damage done. If you weren’t so mortified by the attention given by everyone in the class, you would have swooned at his proximity.

“I’m fine” you mumble.

“No,” Mino says, meeting Jungkook’s eye “you should go home. Class is almost finished anyways”.

Feeling defeated your get up to your feet keeping your eyes on the ground. Being this close to them you realized how small you are. You hid behind Jungkook’s body to hide from your class's attention.

“I’m okay” you try to reason with Mino, “just a little tight” you tried to laugh.

“Miss?”

“__”

“___” Mino repeated, “I’m responsible for you in this class and I won’t allow for any injury no matter how small or big. Please, you're excused to go home”.

Slumping your shoulders and keeping your head to the ground you sighed, “Okay”.

In any other situation you would have taken this as a fortunate luxury, a blessing in disguise, but since Jungkook was witness to this (and Taehyung) you felt embarrassed. You didn’t want them to think of you as dumb. I mean you are leaving a boxing class early due to an injury caused by your tight sweats.

“and ___,” he called out to you as you made your way to the door ,”please come to class on time and be properly dressed”.

Yeah, this had to be one of the dumbest moments in your life.

You grumbled your way to your second class of boxing. After the first class, you went home and cried to your roommates about how embarrassing it was. Although you didn’t have time to wallow in your embarrassment due to the difficulty of peeling off the sweats. The girls helped you lather ointment on your red marks. The stinging and itchiness can now be felt with the cool air hitting your skin. You and Minah were scolded by Tara, your other roommate, for putting yourself in danger in “cutting off your damn ankles!”. You tried to protest only to be hushed by Sohee. With the way things were that night it would seem like you and Minah were the kids to your mothers Tara and Sohee. So, to fit into your new role you stuck out your tongue at both of their backs as they left your room and Minah tried to suppress her giggles.

You really didn’t want to go to the next class, but that degree was on the line. What would be your excuse? That you were publicly embarrassed in front of your class?

This time around you made sure to buy some sweats and cute shiny shorts. You will be prepared. Well not that prepared, as you slipped on the shorts you noticed how you didn’t even shave. So, you had to go back to the black sweats you brought.

To your massive egos surprise, no one seemed to care or remember about you. You made sure to arrive 10 minutes early and found yourself with three other early birds. Not even Mino or his helpers were here. You felt a little ridiculous but it’s better than being late. So, you sat against the wall scrolling through your phone waiting for the time to pass. It was 4 minutes before class when the chatter in the gym began to get louder. You looked up to see that everyone was here including your instructor. You remembered that you had to get the syllabus but now he was surrounded by eager students talking about God knows what. You are aimlessly glancing around trying to find a chance where your instructor could be alone. You slowly made your way closer to the group of seated students. You spotted Jungkook talking to Taehyung. They were also getting crowded by students. You watched how Jungkook walked over to the mats with one of the students and began to demonstrate something with his feet. Your guessing it’s his feet with how everyone is staring at his feet and he keeps looking down as he talks. You are admiring the way he moves his pretty lips as he talks when your vision of him is once again blocked by somebody. A boxy smile. A handsome smile. Taehyung.

You watch him walk over to you with a smile on his face as he waves a sheet of paper in his right hand.

“You need this” he states handing you the class syllabus.

“Yes. Thank you” you reach out for the paper. Your eyes skimmed through the paper making mental notes of the exam dates and random quizzes.

To your surprise you felt Taehyung still standing next to you. Feeling shy all of a sudden you focused more on the text.

“So… why boxing?” he suddenly asks with a gleam in his eye. He stared at you waiting for an answer.

“Why not?” you challenge him, “am I not boxing material?”

“I never said that” Taehyung defends himself, “just trying to make conversation to avoid having to…” he nudges back to where all the students are surrounding Jungkook.

You stop yourself from snorting, “I need it to graduate”

“Oh, you’re a senior?” he asks with interest.

“Yup, with a physical requirement I didn’t know I needed till the last minute”.

“So, this was the only option” Taehyung looks at you with pity understanding the lack of enthusiasm in your voice as you tell him your sad tale.

“It’ll be fun” he says with a smile” just look like you're trying and you’ll pass”.

You shrug and give him a smile. He was nice.

“Listen you don’t have to try hard and with everyone else you’ll be average. Trust me, this is my second year helping the beginner’s course. I’ve seen worse. A lot of freshmen who are over their heads”.

You laughed at that “It’s cute though, right?” you joked with him.

“Yeah, it’s cute, until they hurt themselves. All fired up kids,” Taehyung thought for a moment,

“actually it's embarrassed freshmen and then fired up second years that think they matured overnight or something”

You laughed at his analogy, remembering the cockiness that came from some of your classmates of sophomore year.

“You’re so right” you said, clapping your hands laughing.

Taehyung laughed along with you, “honestly though I wouldn’t mind going back. To be a bit naïve. Thinking of graduating makes me nervous”

“aww” you cooed at him reaching over to pat his arm.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, this time at you.

“What are your plans?” you ask him.

“Art Courier”

“Art” you ask surprise.

“Yea” he smiles, “I love it. I’m also volunteering at an art gallery downtown. Its local art, it’s nice”

“So why are you nervous?”

He looks at you, “Aren’t you?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, I mean I got an internship out of town. I’m hoping to stay there for a short while. Then I want to come back to Kim Corp.”

He smiles at you, “Those are big plans”.

“Yeah… but yeah, I guess I’m nervous but like an exciting kind” you tilt your head, “like butterflies or dragonflies in my stomach”

“Dragon flies? that’s new” he chuckles, “mine are like crashing waves so sometimes it gets nauseating”, he pouts slightly thinking hard, “it’s exciting”. He sighs, “the truth is I’m applying for a master's and I just turned in my last application, so it’s this waiting period”.

“Ahhh, I see” you pat his shoulder once more giving him a smile, “good luck!”

Taehyung smiles back at you turning his full body to face you “thanks, you too”.

“Taehyung!”

Taehyung's name being called interrupted your mutual understanding of senior nervousness and friendship that was forming between the two of you. You lifted your head to the voice that interrupted such a sweet moment. Your eyes were ready to squint at the rude person, but they only softened upon finding the irritated face of Jungkook.

“Oops, got to go, seems like those fired up sophomores are getting to him” Taehyung whispers to you before he jogs up to a furrowed brow Jungkook who is still surrounded by eagerly waiting students. You wait for him to possibly shift his glance towards you. Readying a reassuring and “haha, yikes'' face to show him. However, he kept his gaze locked on Taehyung till he arrived at his side. You pout as you give up and stuff your syllabus into your bag.

Later that evening while the class was practicing a two step footwork you notice Jungkook teaching a student a few rows ahead of you. You watch carefully as he slowly makes his way down to your back corner. Is this your time? The moment in which you have him all alo-on-ne, to have a “private conversation" with him. You hoped. Jungkook was examining the student in front of you. You were next. You lowered your head focusing on your feet. You tried to remain calm even though the anticipation of talking to him was weighing down on you. You stole a quick glance at his feet, they were headed towards you. Here it goes.

“Hey Jungkook!”

Oh my gosh.

“Jungkook, Am I doing it right?”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

You lifted your head to see Jungkook making his way to the kid next to you. There Jungkook goes helping those eager hogging students that take any second with Jungkook away from you. Should you also feign ignorance to the movements in class? Even though you’re sure you probably really do need the extra attention. However, those kids just want to be praised by the “cool" Jungkook. You just want to talk to him.

The following weeks had no progress both with your boxing and with Jungkook. Thankfully your friendship with Taehyung grew as you both would be catching up with each other before classes. And you’re pretty sure you’ve seen Jungkook try to make his way over to you guys only to be stopped by some over achievers. You once asked Taehyung why he doesn’t teach the kids only for him to say he doesn’t need the experience unlike Jungkook who is majoring in Exercise Science (and a minor in art, which is where they meet and become friends). You only huffed in response and told him to give him a break. Taehyung just shrugged and went back on his phone. The talks with him were fine. Taehyung had good humor and amazing story telling skills, once in a while he would reveal subtle information about Jungkook. You would try to slyly ask him questions about Jungkook. You found yourself knowing a little about him every day.

One of the most amazing days though was when you were coming out of the bathroom after class and you overheard Taehyung’s unforgettable laugh and Jungkook’s -surprising- high pitched laughter. You walked slowly towards the divine laughter. You had to hide yourself behind a pillar when you saw them stop before an elevator.

“Those sophomores are so competitive! Hmmm… It reminds me of someone” Taehyung says jokingly, tapping his finger on his chin.

Jungkook shoves him playfully.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding” Taehyung raises his hands in defeat before Jungkook could put him into a headlock. Their rough playing is stopped with the "ding" sound of the elevator doors.

The "ding" also reminds you of what you were doing: hiding behind a pillar like a loser and overheating these guys. At this point it was odd since you were actually friends with one of them. I mean you did have Taehyung’s number and he would occasionally text you to tell you when he (or Jungkook) would not be in class.

You slowly inched your foot, not trying to make noise. You were ready to leave but halted when you heard Jungkook’s voice as they headed inside the elevator.

“So, what did you and __ talk about this time?”

HUH

Did he?

“Oh, I told her about your obsession with banana milk”

“Taehyung!”

Is all you heard before the doors closed.

Okay… what was that about?

Did they talk about you?

Was this an ongoing thing? Taehyung never told you about Jungkook’s supposed obsession with banana milk (cute by the way). Does this mean anything?

You groan as you make your way back to your apartment. Your head was spinning Did he��or did he not? Or did Taehyung just tell him once about all your “interesting” conversations that

Jungkook just routinely started asking him about it?

Your heart thumped at all the possibilities.

Whatever the reason it seemed he had an okay opinion about you. Right? I mean the best outcome you can hope is to be his friend because from what you see in class, and what you’ve heard from Taehyung, Jungkook does seem like a cool and genuine guy. And you’re not doing him (or Taehyung) any justice by eavesdropping on their conversations and following them. At that moment you decided to stop your shy approach and borderline creepy behavior towards him. You were an adult for goodness sake not a love-struck teen. You were going to be more direct!

Your heart raced miles at your final decision.

The next couple of days you began your new resolution by approaching Jungkook first. Your conversations weren’t as complex nor were they as comfortable as with Taehyung. A light tension always seemed to linger as if you both had your own elephants roaming around the room. You ignored it as much as you could. You were grateful for when Taehyung was around to break the tension. This would lead to the three of you to develop a more easy-going conversation. You were just happy that you were able to learn things about Jungkook directly and not through a second source.

All this progress seemed to have gone down the drain one night when you were practicing a new defensive pose. Jungkook came up to you to slightly adjust your arms into the proper distance from your face and body. He smiles afterwards, urging you to feel the difference. You proudly do your complete pose and suppress a giggle when his smile widens. He’s so mesmerizing. Mino was out of the gymnasium, quickly running off saying he need to go to his office. So, you took this opportunity to have Jungkook all to yourself. You were less reserved around him now and were ready to break some more of the barriers between you two. It starts with you two laughing over Taehyung's obvious lie of pretending to be busy. He’s looking over some papers on the clipboard at the front of the matts. You wanted to see Jungkook laugh again as he jokingly comments on the students in front of Taehyung who are trying to get his attention.

“It’s all these fired up Sophomores” you began, hushing your voice as if telling him a secret.

“they’re so competitive and eager to please as if they are being paid to be here. All these little kids will soon face the real world and realize that no one cares”.

Jungkook nervously places his hand behind his neck, “Some of them have potential...”, he hesitantly mutters.

You snort, “potential or not. All little kids, sorry, sophomores are the same. They are all so overly passionate. I feel bad for them once they realize that there will always be someone better, prettier, and bigger than them out there. Haven’t we learned that by now?”.

You turn to Jungkook upon seeing his straight face. You must admit it wasn’t one of your best attempts of comadeire, but the way he was acting seemed like you offended his mother. You were about to apologize and voice your concern when Jungkook nervously laughs.

“Yeah, well…” He chuckles again defeatedly. “…there’s always someone better…”.

“Jungko-“

“I see you have all been working diligently as I was gone! Thank you! As a reward I think we should run a few laps around the gym”.

Jungkook skedaddles away at the voice of Mino. You’re left confused, pondering over your conversation. Can he not stand unfunny people? Were you really that bad? Did he find you to be some bitter old bully?

Once the class is over you jog up to Taehyung and Jungkook before they could get onto the elevators.

You wanted to make sure you were good with Jungkook. You knew you would be up all weekend trying to figure out what went wrong. You know it was something you said. Did he not like your joke? were you being a bit too mean? You didn’t mean it too much. It was just something Taehyung always joked about, so you thought it would be okay to do so as well. Making your way up to them you say the first thing that comes to your mind

“Hey, are you guys going to the Senior Party?” This senior party was for seniors only (unless you were a plus one) hosted by all the frats of school. They all come together to make a huge block party that is honestly favored upon by many and has everyone going.

“hmm not sure” Taehyung says, “Maybe, I’m kind of over frat parties”.

“Yeah…, but this IS the last Ho-rah”. Taehyung shrugs at your response.

“How about you?” you turn to face Jungkook making sure to make eye contact, afraid he’ll look away and avoid you as he has done for the rest of the class period.

Jungkook looks you straight on furrowing his eyebrows, “Why should I go?” he asks almost coldly.

“Oh” okay he hates me, you thought to yourself. “Well, I mean everyone usually goes”, you respond to him with a much more quitter voice now that all your confidence has disappeared.

“It’s only for seniors. I’m a Sophomore”.

Sophomore.

WHAT!?

Your mouth fell agape. And you only half registered Taehyung laughter as he smacks your back,

“____, didn’t you know Jungkook is a baby”.

You knew he was baby. You didn’t realize he was a baby.

Jungkook rolls his eyes at Taehyung's comment.

“I didn’t...I-I’ You stuttered “ Aren’t you in the advanced class and have all these achievements and- and”.

“Yeah” Jungkook sourly smirks “I guess I’m just like all those overly passionate kids”.

Taehyung laughs as if not catching the tone in Jungkook’s voice or the nervous energy you are sure that can be detected from miles away.

“He’s the king of the sophomores! Why do you think they are always crowding him like he’s their hero”.

“Right…” you look down on the floor. You didn’t offend his mother, you offended him. You’ve insulted him.

“Okay, well I’ll see you guys in the next class, Bye” you turn fast around and start speed walking home. You only faintly catch Taehyung’s boisterous “Bye!”.

This all makes sense, the students crowing him like he’s a king, him being insulted by your unfunny comment, Taehyung always picking on him. But the thing is that Taehyung CAN pick on him because they are friends, he’s teasing him. You are not friends with him. You have no right to talk to him or joke with him like that. Your stress levels rise because you never want to hurt someone, much less intentionally. He probably thinks you’re some big bully and know it all. Imagine what he has told Taehyung by now. What if you get shunned by both of them? This is so embarrassing, and you feel awful. You shouldn’t have run away. You should have confronted Jungkook and apologized to him. You should have cleared the air. But at that moment you were so confused and surprised your head was everywhere. Forget dating Jungkook he probably wouldn’t even want to be friends with you anymore.

All of your woes were heard by your three roommates on your living room floor. Picking at your blue fuzzy carpet you retold them everything. They first got mad at you for not telling them about these two good looking guys in your class and then they got even more mad at you for making a

lame joke that insulted Jungkook and then running away.

“You need to talk to him ___”

“You said: ‘Overly passionate sophomores, little kids’. Who even talks like that?”.

Taehyung does you want to point out but instead remain quiet as they continue their criticism and advice.

“Yeah, talk to him! Don’t even think about how you insulted the poor guy!”

“or how you said an odd and unfunny joke”

You never thought about dating young guys. You were always into the older type. You ask your friends about what you should do. They give you the advice you already knew inside your heart. Talk to him, apologize, and go for it.

You remembered that Jungkook is sporty and artsy. The Art building was your first stop. You don’t know his schedule and frankly you don’t want to know it. It would make you feel like a total creep if you knew it and purposely went looking for him. You didn’t want to repeat the ugly feeling you felt after the eavesdropping incident at the elevators. Instead you conceded with a coincidence. This was less guilty.

You entered the Student museum and browsed the artwork. You were so excited to see one of Taehyung’s art pieces hanging in display that you quickly took a photo of it and texted it to him. You momentarily forgot about what had happened. You hesitated to look at your phone after feeling its vibrations indicating Taehyung had replied. You quickly found the nearest restroom which wasn’t easy given you’ve never been inside this building. You entered a stall and opened the text. You were greeted with a “You should have told me you were going to be there I just left Campus” accompanied with two crying emojis. You felt a sigh of relief, as if you can breathe again. Taehyung is not mad at you. You replied with compliments and several hearts that Taehyung gleefully returned.

Your mornings were spent waiting in between classes in the student lounge, in the Art building, and walking laps around the Sport’s building and Gymnasium. You even peeked at the pool only to be flashed with multiple water polo swimmers climbing out of the pool. You blushed running away after making eye contact with the swimming coach. During the night when you had boxing, everything seemed like the beginning of the semester. You would talk with Taehyung as you always would but Jungkook…he was different. He would acknowledge you and would occasionally join you and Taehyung, but he wouldn’t be alone with you anymore. If he ever was he would just stay with you in silence. It would be such a peaceful quietness if you weren’t so confused and nervous on what his opinion of you was. You wanted to apologize to him, but he became much more competitive and almost aggressive during demonstrations. You felt this new form of intimidation towards him. Was he trying to send you a message? No, of course not. It was probably just finals. Most people were on edge during this time.

In the last month of the semester you coincidently found out (thanks to the students in class) that Jungkook has a drawing class 30 minutes after your last class on Friday. With this new information you made plans to sprint over to the Art building to meet Jungkook.

You were just walking down the hall of your building when you spotted… Jungkook?

Interesting.

Is this fate?

This is the time.

He stops next to a class door and leans against the wall, seemingly waiting for someone. You notice then his huge army backpack. For boxing class, he brings a big black duffle bag. This backpack caught you for surprise. You stopped in your tracks staring at the backpack because you’ve seen it before. Plenty of times. In the library, the parking lot, the convenience store in front of the east campus. You’ve sometimes seen it by just passing by. The bag was so big and almost ridiculous that you’re sure most of the student body knows of it. To think that the bag belonged to Jungkook. You’ve never bothered to look at the owner and when you did, they were either far away, at an angle in which you can’t see them, or they had a bucket hat or hoodie over their face. All this time it was Jungkook. To think if you’ve looked or spoken to the person you would have known Jungkook way sooner. All this wasted time.

Is this the coincidence you were dreaming of? Does any of it mean anything? At this point you don’t care. You’re going to talk to Jungkook! Whatever opportunity that is presented to you, you are going to take. You’re almost close to Jungkook, who doesn’t notice you as he’s immersed on his phone, when the classroom door opens with pouring students. You're slightly worried he’s going to leave as the students start obscuring your clear view of him. However, what you don’t miss is the way a pretty girl stops in front of him. He looks up to her and smiles shyly. You can’t really see her face at this angle. You only notice the way Jungkook takes her books from her and follows behind her as she walks to the opposite direction from you.

You felt like you were in a movie. You know the type when the main character is standing in one place and all around her there’s blurs of people moving about. The screen is colored gray and there's sad music playing as you're left there in a daze.

O-kay.

So.

Jungkook has a …he has a… (you can’t’ say it).

Jungkook is-what?

Dating? Has a girl? Not available? Hmmm, maybe he’s not interested in you.

Walking back to your apartment so many questions and conclusions flow around in your head.

Did you ever stop and think he maybe just wasn’t into you? Like what if he just didn’t like you? And not in a bad way. He just doesn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship with you. And here you were thinking he was lucky you were even considering a younger guy like him. Please. Who do you think you are? You’ve acted so arrogant and bitter around him you’re surprised someone as sweet as Taehyung and Jungkook even talks to you.

Reaching your apartment and heading straight to the shower, because the shower is where you make all your final resolutions and get all your ideas, you’ve come to the resolution that you need to stop moping around in class. Second, you like Jungkook, like-like. Third, you are heart broken. And lastly, maybe it’s just not meant to be.

Sometimes things can be blessings in disguises.

You cried in the shower.

Your beautiful roommates were once again there to support you! They even surprised you that weekend by having a little party amongst you and your closest friends. Irene, Maria, Seokjin, Yoongi, and even Mr. Busy Chef Seokjin came along. It was fun and you got drunk. You are going to be okay. You are going to forget Jungkook. It’s the end of the semester anyway and you are leaving town after graduation. It’s for the best.

Right?

Wrong.

Wrong on all parts. You very much like Jungkook. It was confirmed the next time you went to boxing class when your heart didn’t stop thumping. And wrong because you aren’t going to let it go. You felt ridiculous and pretty whore-ish when you still found yourself smiling at him (and did you coyly laugh at his joke just now?) even after knowing he has a girlfriend/ partner/dating/something. (A voice in your head was whispering into your heart that nothing is confirmed yet).

“Jungkook”, you called out his name after the announcements in class. You ran to him and staked your claim on him before anyone else can take him away from you, “Jungkook, can you help me with the exercise from last class, please?”.

He agreed. You walked behind him as he was already heading to your claimed corner. You noticed the disappointed faces of some of your classmates. Taehyung also had a confused face on as he was heading your way for you two to possibly gossip at your corner.

Jungkook helped you with your placements and speed. It was honestly helpful even if you did laugh a bit too loudly or moved in a way you hoped was sensual. At one point you ran out of things to hold him back with, so you must admit defeat and let him go. You smiled at him wildly as he moved to the next student. It was the last month, it wasn’t going to lead anywhere anyways. Which is why you’re trying your best. You were going to see him, talk to him, simply be by him because you’re probably never going to see him again after this.

You connect eyes with Taehyung as he’s walking directly to you. You both held a staring contest till he reached your side. He squints at you. You made a face of a “what”.

He coughed, “So…uhh…you like Jungkook or...?”

You choked on your spit. Were you that obvious?

“Huh? No. What? N-why?”

Taehyung looks at you, “ No reason, just asking.”

He slowly inches away clearly trying to make you less nervous. So, you force your body to relax and just laugh at his antics.

The rest of the class period Taehyung kept sending you looks or raising his eyebrows. You were nervous but soon started to become defensive. You would occasionally mouth “What” at him. Until at the end of class, he finally walked up behind you and whispered “Jungkook”. You jumped back in surprise at his deep voice and most importantly at the name of the owner of your heart.

“Taehyung!” you yelled at him. He laughed, only to stop when Jungkook joins you two. You blushed again and started rubbing your arm afraid Taehyung would tease you again. You all went to gather your things and headed towards the exit to leave class. Taehyung taps your arm to grab your attention. He made the motion of sealing and locking his lips, making it even more noticeable! Your eyes averted to Jungkook only to feel a wave of relief at seeing him typing away at his phone. Thank God.

You give him a face. He chuckles at you.

“Bye__” he said walking away. You rolled your eyes.

“Bye __” Jungkook said with his sweet melodic voice. You smiled at him.

It was the night of the Senior Party and you were ready to forget all about the cute guy in your boxing class. No, not Taehyung but Jungkook. Since you found out about his girlfriend you’ve tried hard to rewire your brain to think of him only as a friend. It was easy because he was such a gentle person. He was kind and funny and so very ambitious. You’ve grown to admire him in many ways. You were happy at where your relationship was (even though you would still like to be involved with him…*cough*romantically….). You weren’t going to be no homewrecker even if it pains your heart to see him smile or see him ruffle his bouncy hair.

Who are you kidding? You are in love with him.

However tonight you are going to forget about him. Tonight was about finally graduating and having a fun night with your friends. You, your roommates and other friends all meet up at a local restaurant before the party. It was fun there stuffing your faces and emptying your glasses, you almost forgot about the party. So, before the buzz faded away you all slipped into an uber off to the streets of the Frats and Sororities that are hosting the party. You were sad that Taehyung wasn’t going to be there. You wanted to introduce him to your friends. A few months ago, he told you he wasn’t going to go and instead booked a trip up North to go camping with his friends Namjoon, Jimin, and Hoseok. Friends who were equally as handsome you thought to yourself last night as you scrolled through his Instagram feed and viewed his story. You should’ve accepted his invite when he jokingly asked you to tag along. Maybe then you would move on from…him.

With your short skirts, dresses and skinny jeans you all swayed into the blockparty-eque event. The music was loud and there were so many people dancing and running around.

“This is practically a carnival, we're only missing the rides” Sohee shouts over the music.

“Lets just go to the main house” you yell back at them.

You all walk the short distance to the largest house in the block, the main source of the party where the DJ, drinks and food is located. Inside the house was empty of furniture leaving every room as a makeshift dance platform.

“This looks complicated!” Sohee complains furrowing her eyebrows “Where do we even begin”

“Lets just look around!” Taeyeon excitedly states turning her head around. You were prepared to see her make a 360 turn. She was Minah's friend who you were surprised to see come to the party. She was a Junior and it wasn’t until the girls told you that night that plus ones were allowed regardless of their year so long as they are students at the University. If you would’ve known you would have “jokingly” invited Jungkook.

After scoping out the house, your group ended up stealing a bag of chips and red cups of lemon soda and vodka. You decided to go to the house next door which belonged to a sorority. (“Maybe they’ll have better drinks” Minah complained).

Entering the house was like a new world, the lights were off and the music was not blaring. It seemed more chill. You walked deeper into the house that had a great atmosphere. Upon entering the kitchen you see the island decked out in different snacks and even mini cupcakes. There is flavored beers and a variety of vodkas, tequilas, juices, and soda. You’ve all shared glances with smiles in your faces. This is your place. You've all grabbed your drinks and you managed to fit two mini cupcakes in your hands before you made your way into the main living room, which like the frat house, was bare of any furnishing. Leaning against the wall with Minah who grabbed cotton candy you sipped on your drinks as you watched the others invade the dance floor.

“You think this was supposed to be a private party?” She asks cutting off a chunk of her cotton candy to feed you.

You thought for a second letting the candy melt in your mouth.

“No,” you told her, meeting her eye. You both laughed. “It would be really stupid if it was, I mean it is the Senior Party thing”.

“Yeah but what if it is and they kick us out”.

You shrugged “Whatever were gone in two weeks anyways. Besides it's on them for hosting it on the same night”.

“I don’t know” Minah continued out with her cotton candy slipping her drink in between each bite. You weren’t sure if she was drunk and just saying something or was actually concerned. You peered your eyes on her face as if to see her better. She was zoned out.

Rolling your eyes you start to look around trying to see your dancing group of friends to join them. You were done with your cupcakes and were ready to drag yourself to them. You thought you saw the Blue sparkle of Tara’s dress. You focused more on the spot only to see these blue sparkles wearing Tara seeming to be dancing or should I say “hugging” someone.

"Oh my gosh, ! LOOK LOOK!” you said slapping Minahs arm.

“What?", she said, trying to catch what you're looking at.

“Tara! She's got herself-“ Your words died in your mouth. For as your eyes traced along this person dress they were meant with a head that did not belong to Tara. First, poor Tara who has the same dress as someone in this room. Second, this person is none other then that girl that Jungkook was with. Your mouth was stood agape for even if your heart broken at the reminder of that girl and the fact that Jungkook was not yours. Your heartbreak and slight jealousy was soon replaced with confusion and then anger. Isn’t this Jungkook's girlfriend? What is she doing grinding on someone who is not Jungkook? No, this guy was not him because you know this guy! He's the famous school pianist whose faces are plastered all over the music building and concert highlights. Min Yoongi. What is she doing? So because Yoongi is a school celeb she's just going to do Jungkook wrong like that. Pretty Jungkook, who smiled at her with a hopeful look in his eyes and carried her books around like some servant. Is your poor baby being played? How dare she? Does she not realize how blessed she is?

“Minah”, you hand her your drink, “wait here”.

You don’t bother for her response and only hear a “what?”

You don’t have time to fill her in about this snake because your adrenaline is pumping in. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's your devotion towards Jungkook. All in the name of love. And if you're not going to be kicked out because it's a private party, you'll probably be kicked out for fighting. You didn’t take boxing for nothing.

Okay…

Maybe not. You're not sure what you're doing and even though you're angry and feel like you need to regain Jungkook's honor, you do have the same part of your brain working and yelling at you to turn back. What the hell do you think you are doing? And who the hell do you even think you are?

You could be on your way to making a complete fool of yourself. But no, you will do anything for Jungkook. Even if it turns out this person is Jungkook's girlfriend's twin and you reveal yourself to be a complete stalker and weirdo.

Your steps seem to move slowly and your skin burning hot from your anger now turns to anxiety. But it was like you couldn’t stop as you neared yourself to her. If you couldn’t confess to Jungkook this was an alternative outlet. By protecting his dignity.

Gosh, is it hot or are you just sweating?

And like a miracle sent from heaven you felt a cold hand wrap itself around your arm halting you in your steps. You tuned your head to see… JUNGKOOK?

“___” he says almost relieved.

You're confused and agaped. You're so caught off guard that you don’t manage to hide your opening mouth.

“Hey” he says softly, almost whispering. He quickly removes his hand around your arm.

His voice brings you back to reality. He always grounds you and neutralizes the nerves in your body. All by being near Jungkook's smiling face.

His smiling face that will soon turn bad. Your stress increases. Your eyes jump from his face to his girlfriend who is still dancing on Yoongi. Jungkook follows your eyes as he notices the stress evident on your face. What's wrong? Jungkook slightly steps in front of you as if to shield you from whatever your eyes keep returning to.

You reach out your hand trying to stop Jungkook from seeing the scene of his girlfriend dancing with another guy, but it's too late. Jungkook is staring ahead for a couple seconds.

Jungkook looks around trying to see what is catching your attention. He catches the sight of his cousin dancing on some guy. Putting a childish face on when she turns her head over to make out with him. Jungkook turns back to you with concern on his face at your still evident distress.

You watch as Jungkook quickly turns around. You see his concerned eyes and frowned lips. No, not to Jungkook. This won't happen to him, you wont allow it. Regaining your energy to confront this snake you move closer to him

“I’m sorry”

“So you want a drink?”

Is he trying to change the subject? Maybe they just broke up and you just reopened his wound.

You give him a smile of sympathy and pull him in for a hug. Yes, you were being forward but you are proud to admit that you didn’t hug him with any malicious or secretive motive. You just care for him so much that you want him to always be happy. You don’t know what happened between him and his girlfriend but you want him to know that he has you. That it is okay.

Jungkook stills in your embrace. You hug him tighter and are happy to finally feel him relax into your hug wrapping his arms around your lower body.

Jungkook is surprised and perhaps dreaming. When you jumped into his embrace he almost didn't know what he did to earn this. Your perfume was swaying in his brain until he saw the teasing expression on his cousin's face.

She winked at him, which caused his cheeks to heat up. So he quickly pulls away from you and coughs.

“So uhh, no drink?” he asks once more unsure of what to say.

You saw his blushing face, maybe you did too much but you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing when you heard a loud laugh at your side. You turn and sure enough see her laughing with the guy.

You step closer to Jungkook so you could whisper slowly to him, "Did you guys break up?”

Jungkook tilts his head in confusion but before he can continue you stop him.

“Its okay you don’t have to tell me, I’m sorry”

“__what are you sorry for?”

You nod your head towards her who continues to dance with the “other man”.

Jungkook squints his eyes at you after having looked in the direction that you head nodded towards. You see the confusion settle onto his face, waiting for you to continue whatever observation you are trying to make.

You decided to end his misery, 'He's obviously too embarrassed to admit it' you thought to yourself.

"I saw you guys together...", you say, trying your best to say the rest with your eyes. You watch as the realization hits his face. His lips formed a tiny 'oh', only to let out an "ah" followed by a short chuckle.

Following his amused response you felt embarrassed. Maybe you stepped out of line and he's going to thank you for rubbing salt into his wounds.

"Sorry" you blurt out trying to save what's left of the respect Jungkook has for you. " I should've stayed quiet..".

At this Jungkook laughs loudly only ending it with a...a coo? He leans closer to your ear so you can hear him clearly.

"Follow me"

You don't got to be told twice.

You follow him through the throngs of people, pass the kitchen, through the back door. You almost tumbled out the door but was captured by the cold air hitting your skin. You rub your arms weary of letting Jungkook see because you didn't want him to reconsider the whole idea and go back inside. You wanted to be alone with him out here. it was nice. You followed him to the bench that rocked back and forth. It was gray with a top cover. He sat on it waiting for you to join him as he tried his best to stabilize the bench by planting his feet to the ground. You gave him a small 'thanks' as you settled yourself next to him. You made sure to keep enough space between the two as to not make him uncomfortable.

Jungkook felt his heart beat in his chest a contrast to the cool night that was at a standstill compared to the house and loud music not only a few feet away. He was grateful for the noise and lights that came from the house and fencing of the backyard, as it gave his shaky breath a cover from being heard by you. He sneaked a glance at you and saw as you sat seated next to him. You followed him out here into the cold. He noticed as you rubbed your hands on your arms. At this point Jungkook knows what comes next. He should offer you his jacket, but he wasn't wearing anything. He opted for a button down, he had no reason for any other fabric. He thought he would spend most of the night in a packed house or street with so much body heat. He felt like a kid scared to look at their crush. He didn't know what to do from this point on. Having a surge of confidence at the probability that you cared for him. If you being concerned about his alleged heartbreak was anything to go by. Jungkook wants to hold onto the care you had for him no matter how small it was. He knew you were a senior who was set to go out of town. His dreams of being with you seemed like a lost hope by now. At this point he just wanted to stay by your side, just to talk, even if just for a day.

One thing Jungkook became sure of as you both stared silently at the moon was that this right here was more than he could have ever wished for.

You were the one to break the silence.

You figured you should clear the air after your assumptions.

"So how are you holding out?"

Jungkook was about to give you a generic answer until he remembered what happened inside.

"I feel perfect" he answered honestly

You give him a confused look.

Man, you thought for sure Jungkook would be heartbroken, now you're thinking of the possibility that he left her.

Jungkook suppressed his giggles and decided to come clean to you. To tell you the truth. That's all he wants for the both of you.

"You know you can come to the senior bash if you're invited by a senior"

You nod not sure where this is going.

"I asked my cousin to let me go with her" Your eyes widened

Cousin?

"I was going to go with Taehyung but he had other plans. My cousin said yes...with the condition that I become her "assistant", Jungkook makes air quotations at the word. You smiled at the playful annoyance. "So I helped her with her courses, and followed her around everywhere. Honestly". He leans in closer pointing at the colorful lights that adorned the roof of the house. "You see those lights? I hung them up all yesterday and when you go inside that dessert table was recently bought from Ikea, I had to set it up". He slumps his shoulders.

"So was it worth it?" you ask not helping the giggles that escape your mouth at his behavior.

Jungkook turns to face you. The first time you both make eye contact since reaching the bench.

"Yeah" he says softly, "I'll say it was worth it".

You avert your eyes and turn your face. A struggle but your fear of letting him see the absolute shyness you knew ozed out won over. You needed to protect yourself and most importantly him. You didn't want to scare him or offend him anymore then you already have.

Not wanting to lose the momentum of the conversation, Jungkook spurts out the first thing in his mind.

"So where are you going after you graduate?"

For some reason you didn't want to answer. It would make it way more real. The fact that you wouldn't see him anymore and that hurt. At that moment with the distant music that pouned throughout the earth, with the laughter you hear from inside the house, the light of the moon and lights from the house, the coldness that you feel around your arms and neck become fuel for you. If this was going to be your last moment with him then you should make the best out of it. Maybe even let yourself become vulnerable in every sense of the word. If just for one day, you wanted to be completely honest and open with Jungkook.

"I got an internship two hours away" you say looking at the ground, "I'll be kind of far, but maybe not so much" you don't know what you're saying, mostly just trying to convince yourself. You looked at him and are willing to say he looked almost sad. You don't know why he looks down now. You just know it made you feel worse. You want your time with him to be happy and fun. Even if it hurts later. You don't know why hes sad and you may make yourslef look completely stupid but in this moment you wieghed your options. If he answers positively you can leave with hope. If it's negative...well...at least you won't have to see him again. That thought makes you frown and scares you. It scares you so much that you couldn't even stop yourself from asking the next question if you tired.

"Do you want to wait for me?"

You both look surprised at your question.

Jungkook remains silent, so you repeat the question already feeling the adrenaline rush from your confession.

"Jungkook, do you want to wait for me?" You ask him again with hopeful eyes.

"Ar-are you pr-proposing?" He was so in shock he didn't have time to register his childhood stutter to make an appearance.

Normally you would have been frozen out of embarrassment and shock. Truthfully, you were bewildered at your actions. But it must be the power of the moon that shines above you both. Or maybe it's the alarm in your heart telling you this may be your only chance. You take a breath and give jungkook a soft smile. One that said 'yes I like you and it's okay if you don't'. You watch as he takes a moment to gather himself.

Hmm.. maybe you should have been more clear on your love confession. You were about to open your mouth to explain when he turned his body to face you. He reaches out for your hand to hold it in between his two large ones. You watch as your hands disappear inside of his.

Okay, maybe you were freaking out a little bit.

The warmth from his hands begins to travel from your arm to all of your body. Your heart beating fast against your chest as you decided to finally look him in the eye.

"Why wait?" Jungkook says.

FIN

#jk #jungkook #bts #taehyung #boxing #college au #bts fic #jk fic #jungkook fic

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marvelsunderoos · 5 years ago

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Good for you - Tom Holland

AN: okay so, this is the first ever smut that I’ve ever written that I will post on here.

Not my gif!

Summary: You basically plan to give Tom a hard time during a movie premiere, however he isn’t letting you that easily.

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: smut, language? tiny little bit of fluff at the end

It was the premiere night of Tom’s new movie. You had picked out a dress for the event, and maybe you had the idea of driving Tom crazy in the back of your mind. Knowing he loved seeing your body in a skin-tight dress and with your hair up, you did exactly that. Your dress hugged your body perfectly and you smiled contently at your reflection in the mirror.

“Ready?” You heard Tom call from downstairs. You quickly applied some lipstick and walked out of your shared bedroom, and into the living room. As soon as you turned the corner Tom’s jaw dropped.

“Wow, you look… gorgeous.” He said as he looked at your body from your head to your toe. You giggled shyly and walked towards him.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. He kissed you back and soon his hand rested on your ass. The innocent kiss soon turned in to a make out session that neither of you had planned. Tom quickly pulled away.

“Fuck, darling, you can’t make me late for my own movie’s premiere.” He groaned as he looked at your body once again. “Looking so good.”

“I just wanna look good for you.” You said, your eyes locking with his. His eyes widened as he noticed the change in your behaviour.

“You better not give me a hard time during this premiere.”

You smirked at him as you heard the car pulling up on your front lawn. “Oh, I plan on giving you something hard.”

During the red-carpet event of the premiere, you could feel Tom’s eyes on you for the majority of the time. Whenever you turned to look at him you could see his eyes shooting up to make eye contact with you, obviously looking at your ass prior to your turn.

As the movie was playing, you sat next to Tom, your hand on his right leg with your fingers softly stroking his inner thigh, slowly moving towards his crotch. His hand almost immediately grasped your wrist. “Don’t” He hissed. You smiled innocently up at him, your hand remaining where it was but stopping your movements. You moved towards him and pressed a soft kiss on his neck, lingering a bit longer than necessary and turned your attention back to the movie. You know you had kissed Tom’s soft spot when he moved slightly in his chair and coughed. You smirked to yourself because his movement had caused your hand to shift right where you wanted to be. Before Tom could do anything to stop you, you started rubbing his already hardening cock and while you heard a shaky breath coming from his mouth, your hand was forcefully removed as he slapped it back into your lap. He quickly intertwined your fingers with his to prevent you from trying anything again.

The afterparty did not last long for the two of you, since Tom had practically been undressing you with his eyes the moment the lights were back on. The fact that you kept brushing your ass against his crotch while you were dancing, didn’t help either. He dragged you outside, towards the car that was already waiting to take you back home. As soon as you were seated on the backseat of the car, Tom’s lips crashed down on yours and he kissed you, hard. “Really think you can tease me like that all night, darling?” He kissed you once more. “Think I would let you?” He growled. You let out a silent sigh as his lips began to attack the soft spot, just below your ear. He pulled away, almost as soon as he had started and leaned back, looking out of the car window and tapping his fingers casually on your upper leg. In that moment, you knew Tom had wanted to make it clear to you that he wanted some revenge.

As soon as you got home, Tom guided you towards your bedroom, kissing you while you walked through the hallways of your apartment. His hands found the back of your dress, quickly unzipping it and leaving it like a mess on the floor. He picked you up and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist. He dropped you on the bed, placing his knee in between your legs as he crawled over to you. He took off his jacket and loosened his tie. “Been horny for you all night baby.” He panted. Hearing him say those words was already enough to send a tingle throughout your entire body. Your hands quickly found the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning it as you placed kisses all over his chest. After taking off his shirt, you quickly start to work on taking of his trousers and palming his cock through his boxers. Tom let out fast unsteady breaths as he pushed you back down on the bed and started kissing your neck. His hands found the clip of your black lacy bra and he quietly murmured “so beautiful” before taking it off. His lips started working their way down to your breasts and his mouth soon started licking, nipping and biting your nipples. Your back arched at the sensation and, moaning, your hands found home in Tom’s hair. He continued to kiss you down your stomach, sucking every now and then to make sure he left a mark. He stopped kissing you to remove your panties. Slowly and teasingly he slid them along your legs and threw them aside. He grabbed your left ankle and lifted it over his shoulder, kissing your inner leg as he made his way up to where you needed him the most.

“What do you want baby?” Tom asked as he stopped kissing you and looked up at you from in between your legs.

“I want you, Tommy.” You breathed.

“Did I not teach you to be more specific with your words honey?” Tom said as his finger glided over your heat, collecting your juices. He brought his finger towards your mouth, waiting for you to suck your own juices off of his finger. You closed your eyes as your lips wrapped around his finger, sucking lightly until he was clean again.

“I want your fingers in my pussy first Tommy.” You pleaded. “And I want your mouth to eat me out.”

At your words, Tom inserted one finger into your dripping core. He made eye contact with you as he slowly pushed his finger in and out of you, seeing you sweat and whimper under his touch.

“You want this?”

“Hmm” You panted. “More.”

Tom smirked at you as he inserted another finger, curling them until they reached your g-spot and he fastened his pace until you were a squirming mess and begging for more. You closed your eyes, loving the feeling of Tom’s fingers inside of you.

“You wanna cum baby girl?” Tom asked, adding his thumb to rub your clit.

You nodded and moaned at the sensation. Tom speeded up and rubbed your clit faster until he abruptly stopped and removed his fingers from you. You opened your eyes as you looked at him.

“You didn’t really think you could get away with teasing me all night, now did you honey?”

You swore under your breath, of course he would still want some payback after what you did to him all night at the premiere. He kissed you softly before returning to your neck, leaving hickeys all over your collarbone and your chest. He kissed his way down to your throbbing heat and parted your lips with his fingers. His tongue licked up your slit and was lapping up all your juices and was soon latched onto your clit where Tom was licking, sucking and biting softly on the sensitive bundle. You felt yourself reaching closer to your high as he continued his movements.

“Oohh.. I’m gonna- ah” You cried out. Once again, Tom stopped. You let out a cry as you looked at his smirking face. You pushed Tom so his back was on the bed. “Since you’re not being the nice one, I decided I will be.”

Your fingers hooked around the hem of his boxers and you pulled it off smoothly, revealing his already hard cock that was leaking with precum. You kissed your way up his shaft and licked it until you took his head in your mouth. Tom let out a breathy moan at the contact of your warm mouth on his cock. You made eye contact with him as you swirled your tongue around his long member and hollowed your cheeks. Your swollen lips licked and sucked his cock before you pulled away and positioned yourself above him. Your hands helped his cock towards your entrance as you slowly sunk down on it, letting his cock fill you up completely. You moaned as you finally felt his cock in you and slowly started moving your hips until you were bouncing on his cock. Tom was groaning underneath you, one hand holding you steady around your waist while the other was holding one of your breasts.

"Fuck, darling, look at you. So pretty, bouncing on my cock…" You moaned at his words and started going faster. Tom sucked on his own fingers before putting them on your clit, rubbing circles as you felt his cock slam in and out of you. It felt so good and you could feel your orgasm approached very fast.

“Ooh Tommy..” You moaned. You heard Tom’s quick breaths and raspy moans, mixed with curse words and your name. You felt yourself come undone, your legs shaking and the way your walls tightened was enough for Tom to reach his high.

“Fuck, darling. I love you so much.” He murmured against your forehead as you had fallen into his chest after your orgasm.

“I love you too.” You looked up at him with admiration. Your thoughts going to the movie that premiered tonight and the amazing relationship the two of you had. You smiled softly.

“I’m proud to be yours.” You murmured quietly to him. He laughed and turned to look at you. “I think you just showed me.” But he looked at you with a serious look on his face as he kissed you softly and slowly. “I’m proud to be yours, too.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #my writing #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #tom holland oneshot #mcu #marvel

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13yearslater · 4 years ago

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Waiting

This is a vent and will contain graphic descriptions of dysphoria and anatomical terms.

I’m struggling with the wait for the second stage of my metoidioplasty. It was always going to be a considerable wait but then the goal posts moved, the light at the end of the tunnel was pushed from view and I am struggling with it all.

I had the first stage of metoidioplasty around a year and a half a go after almost two years of appointments, referrals and consults along with years prior to that researching and deciding between metoidioplasty and phalloplasty and waiting until my life was in a position that I could even begin to pursue lower surgery. I was lucky that my time on the waiting list for surgery was almost halved as I was offered a short notice cancellation slot.

This first surgery was hard from an emotional perspective. The urethral graft is taken and left to heal until the next stage and that’s basically it; nothing really changes in the appearance. I had spent a long time waiting and preparing for this so I knew what to expect; I knew I was about to put myself through a major surgery for little to no return other than the knowledge that this put the pieces in place for stage two. Everything went well, I had no complications and was put back onto the waiting list early last year.

Practically as soon as I was back on the waiting list, Covid hit. Surgeries were suspended entirely and have remained as such since then, save for a small handful of surgeries done last Summer during a brief test phase. My place at the beginning of the 12-18 month waiting list was suspended indefinitely as the hospitals, equipment and staff were used to fight Covid.

We’re now around the time that my stage two would be taking place and I’m expecting in excess of a two year wait from the time that surgeries resume for which we still have no timeframe for either. I feel like I can’t really express this frustration to those around me. I understand that Covid is a priority and I don’t resent that; it is absolutely the right thing to do and I wouldn’t want my surgery to take place if it meant putting others at risk. But that doesn’t mean it’s not still shit, it doesn’t mean I’m not struggling with it despite knowing it’s for the best right now. Patience they tell me. My life has been over thirteen years of patience, of waiting for appointments, referrals, hormones and surgeries. It has been a long time, especially waiting for metoidioplasty, and I am tired.

Thirteen years. I just want it to be over. I want to live without always waiting for the next stage. I want to look down and see what my brain expects to be there - I need the phantom penis I feel to actually be there, for that constantly jarring cycle of sensation and realisation to be gone. I want to be able to buy trousers without having to spend hours trying pairs on to find the one magical kind that don’t touch my genitals in the wrong way and cause me constant distress and then only wearing the same five pairs of those trousers for years until they’re completely worn out. I want to replace all the identical pairs of boxers that I’ve been wearing for the past seven years that are now more holes than underwear - something that I was waiting to do after stage two. I just want to be able to wear what I want. I want to be able to pursue a relationship - something that I can’t even think about when I don’t feel ready, when I can’t bear to interact with parts of my body, let alone allowing anyone else to see or touch them. I want to be able to do yoga which is something I can’t also bear to do due to the physical sensations it causes. I want the hole to be gone so I can sit down without its mere existence bothering me, without any amount of sensation from that area causing pangs of frustration and upset. I want the ‘moistness’ to be gone, something that causes me the most distress and I really struggle to tolerate. I want to be able to take a bath without spending hours working myself up to it and then dealing with the way I feel afterwards. I want to be able to just be without the distress, without the constant workarounds to deal with parts of my body that feel so wrong.

I can feel and sense it so vividly. I know what it should feel like, what it looks like, the way it sits in my underwear and how that feels, I feel my erection in the morning knowing full well it’s not really there. For my body to be giving constant conflicting feedback and sensations against the way I expect it to feel is exhausting. It has always been like this but knowing I was so close to the surgery that would alleviate many of these very specific issues and having it snatched away at the last moment only makes it worse.

I am tired. They don’t understand what it’s like to live like this, they don’t understand how long I’ve been waiting, they don’t understand what it means.

No one can do anything to change it so I don’t know what I want. Maybe just to be heard, to be allowed to be sad, to feel sorry for myself a little, a little comfort, to not have any expression of my sadness or frustration to be disregarded by “but Covid is more important”, because I know it is.

#ftm #trans #transgender #bottom surgery #lower surgery #metoidioplasty #transman #trans man #vent #text

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multific · 5 years ago

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Driving

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: Imagine driving Billy’s car.

A/N: I’m sorry for the lack of posts, work had been taking up my time and I also have been so unmotivated to write. Hope you enjoy this little something~

“Are you sure? What if I ruin your car?” you asked Billy who was sitting beside you on the passenger seat.

You were in a deserted area of Hawkins, Billy had the fantastic idea of letting you drive his car.

“Yes. And you won’t ruin it, you’ll be fine. I’ll teach you everything.”

You had the basics down, but didn’t have a license yet. Billy upon hearing this wanted you in the driver’s seat.

“That doesn’t really help my case. Babe I love you but the way you drive is… reckless for better words.”

“Whatever. You know everything you need to know. Now drive, go.” even if he brought you to an isolated place, you were still nervous.

“Can’t we just make out or something? I’m not ready to drive on my own yet, and what if a cop catches us?”

“Calm down, Y/N. We will make out but first, drive. I’ll give you some tips.”

You decided to go along with his idea and started adjusting the seat and mirrors. Soon, you turned the engine on, enjoying how the car hummed. You had to admit, you always loved Billy’s car, and you always wanted to drive it, but now as you were about to do that, you were nervous.

“Here I go.” you said more to yourself and put the car into gear. You started off with a slow speed, but your boyfriend got tired of that quickly.

“Come on, Angel, put some speed into it. This car is a beast it can handle it.”

“Oh yeah? I thought she might enjoy the slow pace for once.” you said teasing back.

Billy didn’t reply to you, which you found to be weird he always had something to say. You turned and quickly looked at him before you turned back to look at the road.

He was staring at you.

“What?” you asked but he didn’t answer only continued staring. “What?” you asked again with a nervous smile.

“You’re beautiful.” he said. It was a very short and soft spoken sentence, yet it meant a lot to the both of you. You heard how sincere he really was and the fact that he shared a moment like this with you, meant everything for you.

“Thank you.” you said smiling but paying more attention to the road. After about five minutes you had enough of being careful and decided to test the true horse power of his Camaro. Billy didn’t really care when you sped up or when you took a rather risky corner, all he was doing is watching you.

You soon arrived back to the isolated part of town where you started your driving and turned to your boyfriend.

“Okay, now I’m done, can we make out now?” You asked while you moved to sit on his lap. He was smirking the whole time, enjoying how direct you were on what you wanted. Because he would always give you exactly what you wanted, no matter what it was.

Just before things would get too heated, you decided to pull away. Billy didn’t really like that so he kept on kissing you and moved down to your neck, having full intention of leaving y nice purple mark on your delicate skin.

“Drive me home.” you could tell that he had no intention of bringing you home, right after your kissing session, but he didn’t argue.

“You drive, I’m not done staring at how sexy you look behind the wheel.”

“Okay, but if the cops catch us, I’ll tell them you kidnapped me and forced me to drive.”

“Sure, Sugar, now get to it.” he said as he slapped your ass and you moved off his lap.

You drove yourself home, and once you parked in front of your house, you grabbed the keys and got out. While the door was still open you looked at Billy and said.

“Come on, I’m tired, let’s sleep.” you said letting a yawn out. Billy got out of the car and walked behind you, into your house, your parents were asleep so you quietly walked to your room. You closed the door and took your jeans and bra off before you got into your bed. Billy took almost all his clothing off, except his boxers before he got under your sheets. You moved your head onto his chest and he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your forehead.

“Good night, Sugar.”

“Good night, Billy.”

This was all Billy ever needed. Someone who loves him and not only for his great ass and car, but for who he really is. And that is exactly why he trusted you with his car. He just loved to see you sleep so comfortably right beside him, because on those nights, he knew his nightmares will never come.

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suckmysupernatural · 5 years ago

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I Got You - Chapter 7

Word Count: ~2k

Pairing: Professor!Dean x Reader

Warnings: drinking, light smut

Summary: Y/N is used to dealing with her drunk boyfriend, Brandon. That is, until returning to college after a five year sabbatical. Y/N decides to take a fun history class and she ends up meeting Dean, or rather Professor Dean.

A/N: Getting down to it folks!! Tomorrow I will be posting the last chapter + the epilogue!!

Series Masterlist

------------------------------------------

Since the breakup with Brandon, you and Dean had been spending more and more time together. The next semester was a week away and both of you were getting ready. You had gone over to Dean’s apartment the night before, taking your computer with you. You were looking at textbook deals online while Dean edited his syllabus. The two of you barely talked, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, you were simply enjoying one another’s company.

Over time, your feelings for Dean had only grown. You wanted to tell him that you were ready to try a relationship but had decided to let things progress naturally. Things between you and Dean were good, and you didn’t worry too much about the semantics.

------------------------------

It was mid-afternoon when you heard a knock at your door. You didn’t even need to look to know it was Dean. By now, you had learned to recognize the way he knocks. It was firm but not demanding. He didn’t hurry or knock excessively, just enough so you would hear. You open the door with a smile.

“Why hello, neighbor,” you greet him, stepping back as to let Dean in.

“Hey, I don’t have time to come in, but I wanted to ask a question. I’m going to pick up Sam at the airport. He decided to visit before I had to go back to work. We were gonna go out tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come along? I wanted to ask in person cause I realized I wasn’t sure if you drank. Like, I know you told me you’d had drinks before, but I didn’t know if your recovery included alcohol or not,” Dean said, slightly rambling.

“I would love to meet your brother and go out tonight. Yes, I drink. Some addicts don’t because they’ll just become an alcoholic too, but I’m okay with alcohol. It’s a different feeling, not one that I crave,” you told Dean.

“Well, okay,” Dean said, rocking on the balls of his feet, “meet us in the lobby at 8?”

“Sounds good, Dean.”

--------------------------------------

It was 7:00 when you started to get ready. It was rare that you went out anymore, so you were excited to get a chance to dress a little nicer than your usual loungewear. Opening your drawers, you grabbed a pair of panties and a bra that made you feel sexy. Sure, no one was gonna see them, but it made you feel confident. You pulled out a pair of light blue jeans, knowing that they made your butt look good. It took some time to pick out a top, settling on a loose grey tank top that showed just the slightest amount of cleavage. Over the top, you shrugged on a fitted army green jacket.

Making your way into the bathroom, you put on a touch of makeup and fluffed your hair. You felt as good as you looked. To finish your look, you grabbed a pair of black booties and black purse, shoving your phone and wallet inside before heading out of your apartment.

You took the elevator to the lobby, spotting Dean and his brother, Sam, instantly. Dean had told you that his brother was tall, but you didn’t realize that he was going to be that tall. You were already more than a head shorter than Dean, so compared to Sam, you were basically an ant.

The moment Dean noticed you, his eyes lit up. He always found you beautiful and tonight was no exception. Your confidence showed through in the way you held yourself, and Dean found it incredibly sexy. Walking up to him, you flashed a smile.

“Hello, boys,” you greet.

“Hey, you look g-good,” Dean said with a slight stutter. Sam gave him a nudge, getting his attention, “Oh, yeah! Y/N, this is my brother, Sammy. Sammy, this is Y/N.” Sam stepped forward, reaching out a hand.

“Sam,” he corrected, giving his brother a look.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sam,” you emphasize, “Dean never shuts up about his little brother.”

“Likewise. Dean never shuts up about his…” Sam tried to search for a word to finish the sentence. Dean took the opportunity to interrupt.

“Well! You guys ready to head out?” he asked, slightly more chipper than he usually was. Both you and Sam chuckle. You both agree and follow Dean’s lead out the door and into the impala. You went to sit in the backseat, Sam interjected.

“You can sit in the front, Y/N,” he offers. It was apparent Sam was trying to be polite in front of you.

“I don’t need as much legroom as you do, don’t sweat it,” you laugh. Sam gave you a small smile before climbing into the passenger seat. Dean was the last into the car, glancing into the rearview mirror. This is the happiest he had been in a while, spending time with his two favorite people. Sam visited every once in a while, only staying for a few days at a time. Dean wanted to make the most of it.

It didn’t take long to reach the local bar and park the impala. The three of you entered the bar, and luckily it was only partially full. You sat down at a table while the boys went to get drinks. Unsurprisingly, it only took a couple of seconds for you to be approached by a drunken asshole.

“Hello, pretty lady. Whatcha doin’ over here all by lonesome?” He winked, leaning in towards you and invading your personal space.

“I’m not by my lonesome,” you roll your eyes, “see those two guys at the bar? Tall, muscled, attractive? Yeah, they’re with me.” The man’s eyes widened at the sight of the brothers. You giggled as the man scurried away, seeing that the boys were on their way back.

“What was that?” Dean asked.

“The guy was trying to pick me up, but don’t worry, you two handsome gents scared him off,” you smile. The brother’s exchanged a look, obviously proud of themselves. Dean slid into the booth next to you, handing you a rum and coke, while Sam sat across from the two of you.

“So, Sam. Tell me about yourself. Dean has told me a lot about you but I’d rather hear it from the horse’s mouth,” you say.

“Well, I’m a defense lawyer. Most of my clients are mentally ill. I try to get them the help they need, not jail time,” Sam shrugs, “I doubt Dean told you, but I had a little stint in a psychiatric hospital when I was at Stanford. The other patients I met, a lot of them had been in jail before being diagnosed. I want to help prevent that from happening to others.”

“That’s really amazing, Sam.”

“Sammy here is the best of us,” Dean grins. You knew that Dean had helped raise Sam, so it was no surprise that he had some fatherly pride. Sam blushed, looking down at the beer in his hand. This was a regular occurrence between the brothers, as Dean loved to boast about his little brother.

-------------------

The three of you talked for hours, knocking down a few more drinks in the process. Dean stopped after his second, knowing that he would be driving Y/N and Sammy home. He knew that he could probably handle more, but it wasn’t worth the risk. He didn’t need to drink to have fun, especially not with the company he had.

It was close to midnight when the three of you piled into the impala, heading back to the apartment building. You invited the boys back to your apartment to keep hanging out, but Sam declined. He was tired, deciding to call it a night. What you didn’t notice was Sam giving Dean a look in the elevator. Dean rolled his eyes but got the message; Sam approved of you.

Walking into your apartment, you threw your purse on the kitchen table. Both you and Dean took off your shoes before sitting.

“Sam is great. I can see why you talk about him all time,” you give Dean a warm smile. Dean returned right back.

“Yeah, I’m glad you got to meet him. That he got to meet you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, I think you’re pretty damn special,” Dean shrugged, tapping his fingers on the kitchen counter. He looked into your eyes, and you could swear that time stood still.

“Hope it’s the good kind of special,” you smirk.

“The best kind, sweetheart,” Dean said, his eyes boring into yours. Standing from your seat, you walked over to Dean.

“I think you’re pretty special yourself, Winchester,” your voice was soft but steady. You straddled Dean slowly, never breaking eye contact. Dean’s breathing slowed as you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck. Leaning in, you brought your lips to his. Dean immediately responded, deepening the kiss by wrapping one hand around your waist, the other on the back of your head.

The two of you clung to one another, not wanting to part. You shrugged off your jacket before pushing Dean’s past his shoulders. Dean’s hands wandered to the hem of your shirt, looking at you. You nodded and he pulled the shirt up over your head. Leaning his head down, he left kisses along your collarbone. You exhaled at the action, tilting your head back to allow him easier access.

You helped Dean rid himself of his shirt, taking in the sight before you. You ran your hands along his chest, your bottom lip in between your teeth. You looked into Dean’s eyes, which were full of lust. He stood, gripping your thighs to keep you pressed against him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him carry you into your bedroom.

He slowly lowered you onto your bed before standing upright to look at you. It didn’t take long before his pants were on the floor, his hands moving to remove yours.

“You are beautiful,” Dean whispered. You could feel a blush creep onto your cheeks, watching as he lowered himself to kiss you again. He began to trail kisses down your neck, stopping at your sternum. You arched your back, allowing Dean to unhook your bra. He continued kissing down your stomach making his way to your panties. He slipped them off of you, maintaining eye-contact.

He raised himself back up, kissing you deeply. You let your hands wander his body, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of his boxers, helping him out of them. Dean caressed your face before kissing along your jaw. You put a hand between the two of you, guiding him to your entrance. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, your voice soft. Dean gave you a smirk, leaning down to nibble on your ear. Your eyes couldn’t help but flutter at the action, letting out a whimper.

Slowly, he pushed into you. Letting out a moan, you looked into his eyes. Rocking into you, Dean’s ministrations were gentle. He wanted to worship you.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach your peaks. Dean withdrew and laid next to you. He ran his fingers through your hair, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You make me happy,” you whisper, rolling to your side to look at Dean.

“That’s all I want to do,” Dean responded. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in close to him. You wrapped an arm around him and rested your head on his chest.

Soon, both of you fell asleep, happy in each other’s arms.

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forestwater87 · 4 years ago

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Listen, just because this fandom is temporarily dead doesn’t mean my love for Gwenvid is.

Mega thanks to @gwenvidweek for making this happen! We love you, mods!

Gwenvid Week, Day 1: Before Camp/After Camp

David’s always had a soft spot for rituals. They remind him of his mom, of camp -- of all the things that feel like home. They center him, clear his mind, get him ready for the challenges ahead.

He carefully dots the exclamation mark in the sand and takes a step back, tossing his writing stick to the side and putting his hands on his hips. The words written on the shore are a little crooked, the D a little crooked from when a sudden bird call startled him, but as he kicks off his boots (carefully rolling up his socks and smushing them into the toes to keep them from getting sandy) his chest is warm and light.

And lucky for him, because the lake is so cold he nearly jumps out of his skin. Clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering, he forces himself to wade out to his waist, and turns back to survey his handiwork. With the frigid water of Lake Lilac leaving his legs numb, the cool breeze making the trees rustle and the air smell like pine needles, and the sun already scorching everything it touches as it climbs into the sky, he reads back the words in the sand, letting his gaze move slow and deliberately over each swoop and wobbly line and tracing their mirror in the calm surface of the lake like sacred runes.

Campe diem. The words that make the summer begin.

Or . . . not quite.

“David!”

The voice makes him jump, but a second later he smiles. “Good morning, Gwen!” he calls, splashing back to shore and subtly kicking away the letters. “It’s nice to see you up so early on such an important day!”

His co-counselor doesn’t look like it’s nice to be up, but aside from a baleful glare she shoots at the sunrise she doesn’t respond. She’s still groggy, dressed in her pajamas with her hair a messy tangle of knots that blend the two tones into a single warm burgundy. The sun makes her glow where it hits her face, warm and lit from the inside like a jack-o-lantern . . . only that sounds a lot less pretty than he intended, so he’s relieved that’s one of the thoughts he didn’t share out loud.

David wonders if people enjoy looking at their best friends this much, or if it means something potentially dangerous. The way he always does when this question occurs, he quickly banishes it from his mind. “How are you settling in?” he asks, fully aware of the answer. They share a cabin, after all, and Gwen’s spent enough years at Camp Campbell to have the routine down to a science; within minutes of hopping off the bus QM rented for the summer, she’s mostly unpacked, changed into her counselors’ uniform, and begun a critical sweep of the camp’s supplies and paperwork.

She makes a noncommittal noise, rubbing the sleep from one eye with the heel of her hand and trying to shield herself from the sun with the other. “Are you ready? The stores are gonna be full of families getting shit for the summer -- it’ll be like Black Friday, so we’ve gotta be in and out as soon as the Tradin’ Post opens unless you’re prepared to deck some soccer moms.”

He resists the urge to smile; she might not believe in the power of the beginning-of-summer rituals, but this optimistic plan for their camping supply trip is as much a staple of every summer as David’s sand writing. “Sounds like a swell plan, Gwen.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she mutters, but he catches a half-smile before she turns her back on the lake. “Come on, get dressed and meet me in the Mess Hall. I’ll start inventory.” As he falls into step beside her, she glances over at him, raising her eyebrows. “Morning swim?”

He shrugs, turning to survey the empty campground. “Basically!”

“Sure. Seems like something you’d do.” She dismisses him with a wave of her hand, already fixated on the task at hand. “Just hurry up so we can get out of here. If you think you’re gonna make me do all the hard jobs by myself, I’ve got a guitar with your face written all over it.”

David laughs before he can stop himself. “There it is,” he murmurs, causing her to glance over curiously.

“Huh?”

“Nothing! I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Might as well start by seeing what food we have, right?” As he ducks into the counselor’s cabin, he catches a glimpse of her hair, glinting like copper in the early-morning light, and his heart lifts.

There it is.

Writing the camp’s motto in the sand and water is important to him, a silly little consecration ritual that marks the line between his life outside of Camp Campbell and the endless, magical months of summer. He’s done it ever since he was a junior counselor; it feels like staking a claim on the only perfect place that’s ever existed, like writing his name on the heart of the earth. Even if he technically owns the camp now -- something that felt too bizarre and wonderful to make sense last summer and if anything is only more strange after an entire year -- no amount of signatures or invoices capture the simple power of the words “campe diem” on Lake Lilac.

But for David, the summer doesn’t really begin until Gwen tells him she needs him. Never in those exact words, of course . . . but he’s gotten pretty good at reading between her lines, and she’s never exactly been subtle.

He tightens his bandanna around his neck, smiling at his reflection. Get out there and help your CBFL, David. Campe diem.

The wheels that help spring become summer begin turning.

---

“Okay.” Gwen groans, rolling her shoulders; there are some ominous pops and cracks, but she doesn’t look like she’s dislocated anything so David assumes everything’s fine. “I’ll “Okay. This is okay.” Gwen runs a hand through her hair, grimacing as her fingers get caught in tangles. She’s still in her pajamas, a smear of dirt along her thigh from crawling around the supply shed, but she’s so single-minded David isn’t sure she’s even aware of what she’s wearing. (He makes a quick mental note to remind her to change before they leave, because when she gets hyperfocused like this, it’s easy to see her blasting down the shelves of the Sleepy Peak Tradin’ Post in bare feet and oversized paisley boxer shorts.) “We can’t afford literally anything we need. Just like every summer. This is gonna be a disaster, but that’s okay.”

He puts his hand on her shoulder, figuring now isn’t a good time for a hug. “It’ll be fine,” he tries. He scans over their shopping list and tries to imagine a way they can stretch their budget to cover it all; then he remembers that he doesn’t know what their budget is, because Gwen takes care of that, and feels a faint spike of panic jam itself between his ribs. “Let’s ask Mr. Campbell if --”

“Don’t even think about it, kiddo. The government already cleaned me out.” Mr. Campbell slouches into the room, tugging at the trapdoor in the Mess Hall ceiling that leads to the attic. “Those brothers found every last hiding place I had. Apparently it’s being used to repay my ‘debts to society,’ if you can believe it.”

“I can,” Gwen mutters, gaze darting around the Mess Hall as though hoping a sign saying “Free Money Here” will appear out of the blue. She hurries into the back room, where they’ve managed to convert a closet into something resembling an office.

David’s distracted by something else, though. “Brothers?” he repeats, hurrying to help Mr. Campbell lower the spring-down ladder from the ceiling.

“Yeah, those suits from Washington. You’ve met them a hundred times -- sunglasses, terrible fashion sense. The secret agent guys.”

“Um, sir --” he’s not supposed to call Mr. Campbell “sir” anymore, since he’s technically the boss now, but it’s a surprisingly tough habit to kick, “-- if you mean Agent and Agent Miller . . . they’re not brothers.”

He frowns down at David, frozen halfway up to the attic like he’s scaling a mountain. “Of course they are! Or are you going to tell me it’s a coincidence that they have the same last name?”

David shrugs awkwardly, kind of wishing he hadn’t said anything. “They’re married, sir.”

“Really?” His brows furrow. “And that’s legal here now?” David nods. “Go figure. Well, good for them.”

Gwen bursts back into the Mess Hall with a scrap of paper, snatching her phone off one of the tables. “Agent Miller?” she says after a moment, and her tone abruptly melts into honey. “It’s Gwen Santos! You know, from Camp Campbell? Yeah, it’s great to hear from you, too! How’s the weather over there?”

The rattling sound of the ladder being drawn back up into the attic startles David, making him jump and glance away from the conversation. He frowns up at the closed trapdoor -- he’s pretty sure Mr. Campbell is telling the truth about his stashes of money, but it’d be nice if he at least tried to help -- then crosses over to the safe in the corner. (It’s empty, of course, but he wants to feel like he’s doing something useful.)

Meanwhile, Gwen’s voice still sounds like it’s made of spun sugar: “Things are wonderful over here! We’re taking good care of everything. Actually, that’s part of why I was calling . . . I noticed Ered’s coming back this summer?” A moment of silence, then a bubbly laugh. “Well, we’re certainly excited to have her here! The thing is . . .”

A few minutes later she ends the call, immediately jumping into the air and spiking her phone into the couch. “That’s how it’s done!” she crows, dancing in a circle. “I -- am -- the -- best!” Each word is punctuated by punching the air, and then she twirls around again.

Her eyes land on David as she finishes spinning. It’s like a bucket of water was dumped on her head -- her shoulders slump, her arms fall to her sides, and it even seems like the brilliant violet of her eyes turns duller.

“Oh. Hey, David.”

He forces a smile, rising to his feet and wincing as his knees crack. “That sounds like good news!” he says, wondering if there’s a way to tell her he doesn’t mind seeing her happy without it making everything awkward and weird.

She brightens a bit, rescuing her phone from where it lodged itself between the couch cushions. “Yeah. Turns out the Millers are really happy with you for taking care of Campbell all year. They’re Venmo-ing the camp some cash. Probably not enough for most of the stuff we need, but we can cut it down to the essentials.”

“That’s amazing!” He doesn’t entirely know what she accomplished, but it sounds encouraging. “Gwen, you’re incredible!”

She shrugs, her cheeks flushing pink. “Whatever,” she mumbles, then raises her voice almost to a shout. “It’s crazy what great things can happen when you’re not breaking the law all the time!”

Mr. Campbell’s voice is muffled by the closed door: “Give it a rest, Gina!”

Gwen rolls her eyes, but her attempt to look annoyed is dampened slightly by the smile that keeps tugging at the corner of her mouth. “What a dick. Come on, David, let’s get out of here.”

When she emerges from the cabin, dressed like a Camp Campbell counselor for the first time this summer, he looks up from his phone with a smile. “Campe diem, Gwen!” he says, giving her the Camp Campbell salute. Her response is just to shake her head, which is about all he expected. “You look great!”

She gives him a strange look as she slides into the driver’s side of the campmobile. “I look like this all the time, David.”

And she looks great all the time, but he knows better than to say that out loud. “Camp Campbell has a Venmo?” he asks instead (he looked it up while she was getting changed).

“Yes, Brother David. It’s one of those boring grown-up things I did while you were playing in the dirt last summer. No need to thank me.”

Well, she said he doesn’t need to thank her, so he chooses not to. That’s just the kind of thing Gwen does, after all, and once again he wonders how they’d get by if she was able to find a better job.

We’d figure it out, he tells himself, looking out the window as the camp falls behind them. But not this summer.

He has one more year of grace, anyway.

She’s here, and he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

---

Even though Gwen says she doesn’t have any rituals, there are a few things that they have to do every summer, the day before all the campers arrive. Inventory coupled with a panicked last-minute shopping trip is one of them. Listening to strange music at earth-shaking volumes on the drive to and from town is another.

“Yeah, girl, it's true, I'm into you, but these benzos, they got me feeling loose --”

David’s tempted to cover his ears -- it cannot be good for his eardrums; he didn’t even know the volume knob went this high! -- but if he does that, he might block out Gwen’s voice. There are very few situations where she’s willing to sing with an audience, and the car ride into town is one of those rare occasions.

He sits back, watching her shimmy her shoulders in time to the music, painting the air with the hand not on the steering wheel in strange gestures that are half conducting and half gang signs --

“Why don't you come through, before I Goku -- fuck this white pill and go super xan!”

-- and decides, like he does every year, that this is worth the risk of moderate hearing loss.

As they pull up in front of the store (despite Gwen’s dire warnings, the street is as empty always), she switches the music off. David tries to convince himself the ringing in his ears is all in his head, and that he isn’t going to suddenly wake up deaf. He mostly succeeds.

“Okay, David.” Gwen stops directly in front of him, putting her hands on his shoulders. It suddenly feels like there’s a snake constricting around his chest, and his next breath stutters and doesn’t seem to pull in enough air. She doesn’t notice, narrowing her eyes at him as though he was one of their poorly-behaved campers. “We have a list.” She waves it between their faces for emphasis.

He swallows, nodding. “We do.”

“We’re sticking to the list.”

David nods, resisting the urge to laugh. “Of course we are,” he says; he hadn’t intended for his remark to sound sarcastic but can’t be entirely disappointed that it does.

“We’re not buying anything unless it’s on this list, got it?”

“Got it, Gwen!”

“Good.” She takes a step back and punches his arm lightly. “Let’s go, CBFL.”

As he follows her into the store, he couldn’t keep from smiling if he tried.

---

“Wasn’t that fun?”

Gwen groans, shoving the last of the bags into the car (David reminds himself yet again to put his reusable shopping bags in the campmobile so they don’t spend another summer gathering dust under his bed) and slamming the door shut. “Swear to god I’m gonna get a leash for you,” she grumbles, putting her forehead on the steering wheel for a moment before starting the car. “I’ll order one from a kink website or something and you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

He doesn’t roll his eyes, but it’s a close thing. “I don’t think that’s necessary . . .”

“Oh, yeah?” She lifts her head to give him a sideways glare. “How many knives did we buy?”

“Two.”

“And how many knives were on the list?”

Okay, she’s made her point. “But Gwen, one of them is specially engineered for whittling!” He digs through the bags until he recovers it, holding it up to her. “I’ve always wanted to try whittling!”

“‘Specially engineered’ is a bullshit term used to sell stuff to idiots, David. And the other one . . .”

“Is . . . well . . .” Okay, so he doesn’t have an exact use for it yet. But he likes being prepared, and it’s important to have tools on-hand. “The box says you could shave with it! Isn’t that cool?”

She taps on the steering wheel impatiently. “Are you planning on shaving with it?” she asks, deadpan.

“No.” But he could.

Gwen snorts, starting the car. “Well, you’re gonna have to explain to the campers why we’re using the same old watered-down paint as last year.” She pulls an imitation of him that’s disturbingly accurate. “‘Golly gee, sorry about that, kids! But look at this cool knife I got instead!’”

That hardly seems fair, but he doesn’t have a good comeback. Knives aren’t cheap, it’s true, and he hates the thought that the camp will suffer because of him. “I mean, when you put it like that . . .” he mutters, looking out the window to avoid her accusing gaze.

There’s a moment of silence. Then her arm lands heavily around his shoulders, pulling him into a sudden half-hug. By the time he’s registered what’s happening, she’s taken her arm back and gently shoved him back to his side of the car. “It’s fine, David,” she says with a sigh, her face slightly pink. “I didn’t have to buy Nights with the Wolf Queen, either.”

He doesn’t point out that a grocery-store paperback is hardly as much of an expense as two wilderness knives, mostly because he doesn’t want her to realize it herself. So he takes the olive branch and smiles at her before reaching to the dashboard and turning the music back on.

Noise explodes through the car, making both of them jump even though they knew it was going to happen. Gwen’s surprise immediately dissolves into delight, and even though she doesn’t thank him outright, she bobs her head and drums on the steering wheel to the beat, and that feels like thanks enough.

“Robbing banks, knock it off! Not saying thanks, knock it off!”

David perks up, tilting his head to hear better (not that he needs to, since the music is currently drilling its way into his skull). “Hey, I like this one!” he says. Why didn’t they start with this song?

Gwen glances at him for a second before returning her eyes to the road, clearly trying not to smile. “Would it even matter if I tell you this is sarcastic?”

It wouldn’t, and they both know it.

---

David takes a step back, holding up his phone and fiddling with the zoom. This is another important part of beginning the season; the supply room will never be this full or tidy for the rest of the summer, and their hard work deserves to be documented before it all gets undone. “Looks perfect!”

So perfect, in fact, that it needs to be uploaded to Instagram. Right now!

“Yeah?” Gwen huffs, slumping against a pile of unmade tents nearly as tall as they are. She must’ve dragged it out of the shed while he was sharing his photo. “I’m so glad you’re doing the important stuff while I slack off.”

If that’s sarcasm, he chooses to ignore it. “Don’t say that! You’ve done a great job today!” She groans loudly -- so it was sarcasm, good to know -- but takes the other end of the tarp holding all the tents and helps him drag it out to the field. The sun hovers just above the trees, golden-yellow and almost thick enough to touch, and his stomach grumbles as they survey the campgrounds. “Do you want to have dinner first, or . . .”

“Fuck that.” She grabs a tent and slings it over her shoulder. Her face and neck glisten with sweat, and she impatiently brushes the strands of hair that’ve escaped her ponytail out of her face. She looks unkempt and beautiful, like a lumberjack, or a viking. “If I sit down, I won’t be able to get back up. Let’s just finish this shit.”

Her language leaves a little to be desired, but her logic is sound. The tents are meant to be put up by and for children, so they aren’t too difficult to set up, but most of them have taken damage between the last summer and storage, so the process keeps stalling to fix broken rods and quick-sew patches over holes in the fabric (David’s job, mostly; Gwen isn’t much of a seamstress). The air is a gloomy indigo by the time they finish, cooling down just enough to make their sweat-damp clothes miserable. “Why don’t you take the first shower?” he offers as they walk back. “I’ll start dinner.”

“My hero,” she quips, veering off toward the counselors’ cabin. David shrugs off his discomfort and exhaustion, forcing a skip into his step as he heads into the Mess Hall.

This is their final ritual before the campers arrive tomorrow, and he wants everything to be perfect.

---

“Hmm?” He cups his free hand around his ear, gently twirling his stick over the fire. As much as he wants to look over at Gwen, he has to keep his attention on roasting his hot dog. The last thing he wants is to deal with another exploded dinner. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

She snorts and throws a marshmallow at his head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“No, I’m just not sure I heard you correctly! Because it sounded like maybe you were saying you were wrong about something --”

“Very cute,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.

“-- and that, consequently, I was right!” He grins at her, removing his (cooked to perfection) hot dog from the fire and transferring it to a bun.

“Sounds like you’re saying you wanna be hit in the face with a flaming hot dog, Greenwood.”

He leans forward and gently takes the stick from her hand, saving her food from its fiery doom. “I just think it’s swell that you’re willing to admit when you’re wrong, Gwen.”

“Give that back! It’s not done cooking.”

“It’s overcooking!”

“And that’s how I like it!” She snatches back her stick and holds it to the center of the flames, shooting him a defiant glare. A moment later there’s a loud pop; they throw themselves to the ground to avoid the burning shrapnel of the exploded hot dog, which light up the air like fireworks before sizzling harmlessly out in the dirt.

They both sit up, brushing themselves off, and take their seats around the campfire again. David waits a minute before saying, “This might be another good opportunity to practice owning up to your mistakes.”

She shoves his shoulder, laughing. “Let’s see you do it better.”

He does, knowing and not caring that she’s gotten him to do all the work for her. The fire is a lovely contrast to the chilly night, and he feels warm and glowing all over.

After dinner they crowd themselves into one of the campers’ tents, rolling out sleeping bags on the floor next to the child-sized cots. Gwen sprawls out across hers, stretching like a cat. “Hell of a last supper.”

He knows what she means, but he isn’t comfortable sharing her dread over three months of meals cooked by the Quartermaster. At least, not out loud. Instead he crawls back outside, recovering the two steaming mugs he pilfered from the Mess Hall and bringing them into the tent. “Here you go!”

She sits up and takes the hot chocolate, curling both hands around it despite the heat. “Well, since I’m apparently on a roll here,” she says, taking a sip and sighing happily, “I guess I have to admit that this is a really good way to start the summer.”

David quickly takes a drink as well, hiding his smile behind the mug. “So I was right about that as well?”

“Okay, don’t milk it,” she snaps, but there’s no real malice in her voice. She leans back against one of the cots, wincing at the screech of metal shifting, and tilts her head up to the ceiling, as though she can see through the fabric to the stars beyond. “I had a lot of fun today,” she says after a moment. Setting her drink to the side, she tugs the elastic out of her ponytail; in the white light of their lantern, with her hair falling in loose, fluffy waves down to her shoulders, she looks soft and almost ethereal, like a princess in a fairy tale. “Thanks, David.”

She meets his eyes, the light turning them a silvery lavender, and looking at her is suddenly too much so he turns his attention to his drink. “No problem, CBFL,” he says, taking a deep breath and wishing his heart wasn’t beating so fast. He opens his mouth to say something else but it turns out there’s nothing else he has to say so he shuts it again, feeling stupid.

For a few minutes they’re quiet, drinking their hot chocolate in companionable silence. At least, David hopes it’s companionable -- he’s not exactly sure how to measure companionableness, but it seems friendly enough so he’s going to do his best not to overthink it. That’s what Gwen would tell him, he knows, and she has a degree in psychology so she definitely knows what she’s talking about more than he does.

Thank goodness he’s not talking out loud; it’s embarrassing enough that he’s babbling in his own mind . . . oh no, what if he has been talking out loud this entire time? What has he said?!

“David?” His gaze snaps up to her, but she doesn’t look annoyed or creeped out so he probably hasn’t been saying anything too weird, at least, and probably hasn’t been talking out loud at all so that’s good but her expression is alarmingly serious and she hasn’t said anything else and it’s been at least ten seconds that they’ve just been looking at each other but he’s not sure what she wants so -- “Let me know if I’m reading this wrong.”

“Reading?” he manages weakly. He feels strangely disconnected from his body as he watches her set her mug aside and cross the small space to kneel in front of him. Her hand alights on his shoulder, fluttery and weightless as a hummingbird, and she seems a little close and a lot beautiful and if he’s not extremely careful she’s going to figure out all the things he’s put so much work into not letting her figure out -- try not to feel at all, but it’s hard to keep his composure and not look at her mouth when it’s so close and there’s no camp activities or pre-camp activities or post-camp activities to distract them both with, just quiet and breathing and soft white lantern light and her hand on his shoulder, and he’s always considered himself able to multitask pretty well but this feels like too much so he squeezes his eyes shut . . .

The kiss takes him entirely by surprise. One moment he’s bracing himself for a confrontation, questions he doesn’t know how to answer, and the next moment is filled with Gwen -- her lips soft and slightly chapped against his and her fingers tightening on his shoulder and the coconutty smell of her shampoo all around him and he’s a little worried that he’s having a heart attack but gosh, jeez, fuck it, he kisses her back.

And she doesn’t shove him away or demand to know what in the name of fun he thinks he’s doing; she lets out a weak little huff of air that lands somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, her mouth opens just slightly, and she shifts forward, her arms twining over his shoulders. One hand slides into his hair, the gentle scrape of her fingernails shivering from his scalp down his spine, and it occurs to him that he can touch her as well, that he’s not only apparently allowed but actually probably should. Slowly, both so she has plenty of him to stop him and in a futile attempt to stop his fingers from shaking, he lifts his hand to her neck, gingerly cupping around the base of her head and running his thumb along the space behind her ear. She gasps against his lips, but she doesn’t pull away so he assumes it’s a good gasp and repeats the motion, and when her tongue flicks against his bottom lip like a question he opens his mouth, because he’s never been very good at saying no to her for anything and he sure as sugar has no intention of starting now.

David’s not sure how much time passes before she pulls back, but even though he feels cold and bereft everywhere they’re no longer touching it’s probably for the best, because he doesn’t realize how lightheaded he is until he opens his eyes and has to wait for the world to shudder into place. She sits on her heels, biting her lower lip; he lets his hand fall away from her, and in a second they’re disconnected, apart.

“Well.” She chuckles weakly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “That was . . .”

A mistake, his brain finishes, and his stomach drops in miserable anticipation.

In fact, he’s so prepared for those devastating words that he almost misses what she actually says: “unexpected, huh?”

It takes him a moment to register that, to recalibrate, so his response is a bit too late, just a little bit awkward: “I -- definitely didn’t see it coming.”

“That’s because your eyes were closed,” she says with a grimace, like she regrets the lame joke even before she’s finished saying it; but it melts so seamlessly into a smile, small and self-conscious and unexpected and perfect, that he forgets what words are, let alone that he’s supposed to say some to continue the conversation.

With a nervous glance at him, Gwen scuttles back to her side of the tent, picking up her mug of hot chocolate.

“Sorry, was that totally inappropriate?” she asks, responding before he can. “I mean, of course it was, you’re technically my boss, I don’t know what -- I just thought I was -- there were some signals -- weren’t there? Was that . . . okay?”

The enormous stupidity of the question finally surprises him into speaking. “Okay? That was . . .” the best thing that’s ever happened in my life. “Very. Okay -- it was completely okay. Better than okay, it was . . . you know, good. Nice. I’m going to stop talking now.”

Her smile widens, visible even as she covers her mouth with one hand. “Really?” she says, suddenly like she’s blurting it out. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He’s so sure that he shuffles forward on his knees, most likely looking like a total idiot, until he’s in front of her again. He doesn’t have the courage to kiss her so he takes one of her hands, turning it over and examining how beautiful it is, how lovely it looks contrasted with his pale fingers. He strokes the backs of her knuckles, marveling at how soft her skin is even after a day of hard work, and tries to remember how to breathe.

Gwen puts her other hand under his chin, forcing him to look up, and kisses him again.

It’s a bit less gentle than the first time, both her mouth and her fingers hot and insistent as they press against him, and he loses his balance, falling onto his back with a small yelp of surprise. She follows him down without breaking the kiss, lowering herself to her elbows and covering his body with hers. He’s distantly aware of a dull ceramic clunk, but he doesn’t really take notice of what it means until a few moments later, when something lukewarm and wet seeps into the hem of his pajama pants.

“Shit!” She rolls off of him, righting the mug of no-longer-hot chocolate and scrambling for the napkins left over from dinner. “Fuck, it’s everywhere.”

He tugs her sleeping bag away from the spill, but it’s already soaked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to knock it over!”

She shakes her head, sitting back and surveying the damage. “No, I think I did it. It’s fine, the dirt’ll soak it up. But it’s gonna bring ants, so we’re going to have to give this tent to the campers we hate the most. I vote Max.”

“Gwen!” He can’t quite make that sound as disapproving as he should. He scoops up the wet napkins and drags her wet sleeping bag outside. “I’ll go put this in the wash right now.”

She glances at her watch, then back up at him. “It’s almost midnight, David. I’m not staying up until that’s clean, it’ll take all night.”

He knows she’s right -- the machine they rely on for the camp’s laundry is the same one they’ve had since he was a junior counselor, and runs extremely slowly -- and disappointment makes his shoulders slump. “We can sleep in the cabin, then. That’s no problem.”

When he returns from the laundry, yawning, Gwen isn’t in the counselors’ cabin like he expected. She’s not by the dying embers of the campfire, or in the tent. The sleeping bag, it turns out, isn’t in there either, nor are the lantern and the mugs of hot chocolate. He opens his mouth to whisper-call her name (it’s spooky with the fire out) --

“David!”

He jumps, covering his mouth to muffle a noise that was definitely not a scream, and turns to see Gwen leaning out of one of the other campers’ tents, half-hidden by shadows. She gestures him over and disappears back into the tent.

Shaking off his alarm, he ducks inside to see Gwen bundled up in the sleeping bag on the ground, with the other supplies well out of reach. “Oh,” he says, not sure exactly what he’s looking at. “Um, should I . . . sleep on one of the cots?” It’d be uncomfortable, but he’d rather shiver through a night curled up on a too-small bed than go back to the cabin alone.

She rolls her eyes at him and wriggles to the side, unzipping the bag halfway. “Get in before you let all the warm out.”

Oh. His face flushes hot and he has to look down at his feet for a moment to compose himself.

Well, he’s hardly going to refuse, is he?

It’s a bit of a close fit, but he manages to slide in alongside her. She turns onto her side, slinging one arm over his waist and resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Is this okay?” she mumbles, already sounding like she’s halfway to falling asleep.

He has to swallow twice before he can answer. “Y-yes. This is fine.” He can already tell that it’ll get unbearably warm soon -- Gwen’s pressed against his side and radiating heat like a furnace -- but her weight on his chest is solid and comforting and he knows he won’t be moving an inch until the sun rises, not unless she tells him to.

She’s quiet for long enough that he thinks she’s fallen asleep.

“Sorry.”

It’s so soft he freezes in the darkness, trying to figure out if that was his imagination or not. When she lifts her head, nothing more than a black vaguely-Gwen-shaped blob, he recovers and says, “Why?”

“I know this whole pre-summer hot chocolate thing is really important to you. It kinda sucks that I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything!” He sits up on his elbows, tentatively reaching out to stroke her hair. His fingertips brush against her forehead and she ducks slightly, letting him pet her hair without poking an eye out. “I know it hasn’t exactly started yet,” he says, flopping back down so she can rest her head on his shoulder again, “but I think this might be the best summer ever.”

“You say that every summer.”

He smiles up at nothing. “And I mean it every summer.”

There’s silence for a moment, then he feels her press a light kiss against his neck. “Call me optimistic, but you might be onto something this year, anyway.”

“Wow,” he says, blowing out a huff of air. “Admitting I’m right three times in one day. I hope it doesn’t keep up like this or I’ll get a swelled head!”

He doesn’t have to see her face to know she’s glaring at him, and that small knowledge makes him indescribably happy. “No danger of that happening.”

“I know.” It’s one of his favorite things about her.

Her breathing evens out as she falls asleep, soft and slightly nasal. It’s another sound he associates with his time spent at Camp Campbell, although never so close, never with her hair tickling his cheek and her hand splayed over his heart like she’s protecting it. He’s used to letting her breathing lull him to sleep from across the room -- but he thinks he could get used to this, if he has the chance.

(He’d like the chance to get used to this.)

David closes his eyes and enjoys the last moments of peace they have, before the kids arrive and the camp explodes into a delightful frenzy of sound and chaos.

Let the summer begin.

#campcamp #camp camp roosterteeth #gwenvid #cc david #cc gwen #gwenvidweek #gwenvidweek2020 #forestwriting

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cherwd-pen · 5 years ago

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I LOVE YOUR WRITING SMMM!! I LOVE SUPPORTING BLACK WRITERS!!!! anyways could you maybe write some headcanons of tendou, bokuto, kuroo and akaashi w/ a fem!s/o who is a boxer with a very important boxing match coming up soon? i have a boxing match in a week and i’m so nervous ahfsjshdjsksdh. anyways thank you so much for your consideration!!💞

Fem!Boxer!S/O with a very important boxing match

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴀᴡᴡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴅᴏ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴ! ᴀʟꜱᴏ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ & ʙᴀꜱɪᴄ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴏꜰ ʙᴏxɪɴɢ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪᴛꜱ ɢᴏᴏᴅ💕

Now this boy is wacky so you bet he's cracking jokes to ease your nerves DAYS before the match

I think he's one of the least mature but like in that way you just roll your eyes and wack the back of his head style

So expect an extra goofy monster that week

Tendou is right by your side at the gym/home watching you train and loves watching you because he thinks you look so sexy

He tries to be an opponent but...just no

Let him hold you though and he’ll ease you with “an intense form of training”

Cut him some slack at least he’s trying aww

But seriously Tendou knows about being nervous/not so confident and he does what he can to help by taking you out a lot during the day and letting you sleep early all week

The day of the match and he is more pumped than you fr

He’s actually behaved and not as loud but a close second. And he’s the one to bring a bag of your favorite things he bought at the convenient store

There’s no sulking with this one so be ready to have follow-up manga reading dates or random walking around dates to take your mind off a lose

Wins are full of excitement and him clinging to you; he’s sorta in awe at how much technique/skill you have

This is a monster with a total soft sport for you and simps hard for his boxing babe

THE SECOND LEAST MATURE BUT THE # 1 HYPE MAN ISTG

Bo is there to hug your nerves away if you need it

His ideology is literally "pamper them = best results"

Need extra time at the gym? Great he's already got you jogging there

Want a new sports bra or last minute stuff? Boom he probably already bought it-

At the match he's a well behaved boy😊

SIKE he's a loud guy with love who will yell you dont tell him to quiet down before hand

He's love with watching you but it kinda makes him wince because those kicks look wild hard

Wins mean those kisses you see in sports movies where its long and passionate I bet and maybe something more later...

Loses mean he’s quieter and lets you come to him if you want but if not he’ll leave cute gifts for you

9/10 Boyfriend but very loud and needs some guidance about what you want to ease your nerves

Manz does not tolerate overworking yourself ok? So don’t even think about putting in extra time the day or two before

Kuroo loves you and he will attend the match like a good boyfriend and totally grins all smug when you get a good hit in

Also he’s quieter than Bo but can get into it when he sees you get wild-eyes/focused more than normal

Movies and pep talks

I wholeheartedly believe Kuroo is a movie-go-to man and you can pry it from my cold hands

Also you know that pep talk he gives the vball team? 100% has one for you and surprise it’s actually good and works

“You worked hard for this, babe. Win or lose you’re still tough as hell.”

The team loves you so please understand YOUR OWN CHEERLEADERS WILL BE THERE IF THEY CAN-

Can stomach you getting hit because he knows you’re a touch one since you literally do a sport MADE to be knocked around in

Has cooling patches and medication at the ready with him

Celebrating at home with cuddling and cliche flowers/sweets UWU

You both have gym dates but now there are more with a playlist he made for you some time ago

Basically Kuroo is a sappy boy knows his babe is a baddie and posts pics after big matches with you, win or lose

Akaashi is quiet about his support

I feel like he'd play music to soothe you while letting you nervous-rant if you need to

Bby keeps you close if he can so you dont lose it

Post-match is his specialty out of the 4 boys

Lost the match? He will NOT let you sulk for too long bc he knows what it can do to a person. He’s dealt with Bokuto so he’s got a PhD in this stuff

He's taking you out for a walk, buying your favorite food/drink, then accompanies you to the gym which is rare

Won the match? You'll love the nice cooking he does for you, and the cuddles because boxing has got to be tiring for the body

He attends but you probably dont know he's there because boy is quiet unlike SOMEBODY and is only really worried when your jaw gets hit

But when you shake it off Akaashi doesn't know if he's impressed or concerned because whoa there badass

He's the one to learn more about boxing because he wants to be able to converse about it with you

All in all Akaashi is soft and will be calmly gripping the seat watching you with pride

EXTRAS — t. kuroo

You stared up at the dark eyes of your boyfriend. His signature sly grin was plastered on that handsome face making you look away briefly then return to those prideful eyes.

“You did good, kitten.” Kuroo said, holding a hand out for you to take. The hot summer air was torturous after being in the hot building then putting on a jacket. It was red and stood for Nekoma’s boxing team. You didn’t even bother putting sweatpants; you were sweating again anyway.

Cheeks warm and hot to the touch, you took the hand offered with a smile. Kuroo’s stomach flipped a little and in wonder. How you could go from his adorable girlfriend to his sexy boxer was still confusing to him, but not so much since you said he was the same on and off the court. Two athletes who were great at what they did and good to each other.

“Shower then cuddling.” you almost demanded before dragging the raven-haired male along. Who was he to argue when that sounded so good.

#haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #hq kuroo #hq akaashi #hq bokuto #hq tendou #sugar🌸#anon👼

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bandzrus · 6 years ago

Text

Tattoos (One-Shot)

Machine Gun Kelly x Reader

Masterlist

SUMMARY // requested by @icalldibsonharrystylesandluke – “if your requests are open, would you consider doing some mgk one shots, blurbs or whatever? That would be highly appreciated”

NOTE // I’ll be honest and say writing this scared me because I’m not actually that familiar with MGK – I basically only know him because of The Dirt, so disclaimer for OOC behavior and incorrect information.

WORDS // 2314

TAGLIST // @divaanya @icalldibsonharrystylesandluke ((okay I am so sick of tumblr not wanting to let me tag people this is so stupid))

***

You’d started dating Colson around the same time he’d gotten the call to play Tommy Lee on The Dirt, which meant you got to come along to New Orleans with him. It was great for you; you’d always wanted to travel there and now you got to do it with your boyfriend and watch him make what you knew was going to be a killer movie. You weren’t allowed on set all the time, but it was easy to keep busy sight-seeing around New Orleans and checking things off your bucket list. It was even better when Colson had a day off and the two of you could do things together. But whenever you were allowed you could never wipe the smile off your face. You’d grown up on Motley Crue and now you were watching your boyfriend bring their music back to life. It was nothing short of surreal. One of your favourite parts though was watching the transformation from Machine Gun Kelly to Tommy Lee. You often spent time in the makeup and costume trailer with him, and it blew your mind. It was weird watching your boyfriend morph into one of your idols.

You’d help him go over lines, watch him practice twirling drumsticks, and film little behind-the-scenes stuff on his phone for him. It was kind of a weird way to spend quality time with your boyfriend, but it was a lot of fun. The whole trip was by far the most amazing experience of your life, but if you had to pick one thing that you loved above everything else from the trip, the times you helped Colson wash the makeup that covered his tattoos off were your favourites.

You beamed as Colson walked off the stage set. You’d been watching them perform Motley songs all day for a gig scene and they were honestly incredible. With all the screaming extras, it almost felt like you were at the real thing. You could still tell it was weird for the other guys, but performing was like second nature for your boyfriend.

“You guys were amazing up there!” you congratulated, throwing your arms around his sweaty neck.

“You really think so?”

“Yes! You look just like the real deal, and if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a first-rate drummer!” you gushed.

“That was the last scene we had to film today, so we can go back to the trailers if you want.”

“Ooo what are you implying?” you teased him, pulling back to give him a cheeky grin. He just laughed. “I’m just teasing, I know you’re probably exhausted.”

“I mostly just want to get this wig and makeup off,” Colson confessed, leaning down to give you a little peck on the lips. You nodded your head. Giving you a big smile, he grabbed your hand and the two of you bid farewell to the rest of the cast and crew. It was getting close to dinner time and the sun was starting to sink below the horizon, painting the sky every shade of pink, purple and orange and making everything seem golden. You looked up at Colson as the two of you walked hand in hand back to his trailer. He had that post-show glow that you’d seen well over a dozen times. And you had to admit he looked really good in the leather pants and jacket. Just like a rock star.

A few more crew members were milling around the trailers when the two of you arrived, one of them being the girl who helped style all the boy’s wigs, Cassandra.

“Hey, you’re back!” she greeted, putting down the book she’d been reading and jumping to get the door of the makeup trailer. “Ready to get that wig off?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll try to be quick so you can hop in the shower and get the makeup off,” she smiled, ushering the two of you inside. “I’m sure Y/N won’t mind helping with that.”

You blushed a little as Cassandra winked. Colson just laughed and plunked himself down in the makeup chair as Cassandra went to work ungluing his Tommy wig. Pulling out your phone, you switched it to video.

“How’d the shoot go today, babe?” you asked your boyfriend, capturing the moment.

“Fuckin’ rocked it!”

You laughed as he threw up the devil horns.

“We did so fucking good we get the day off tomorrow.”

“Really?” you squeaked, ending the recording and putting your phone down.

“Yup, we can go to that restaurant you wanted to check out,” answered Colson. “They’re filming some other stuff tomorrow so we’re off the hook.”

“I guess that means on break tomorrow too,” remarked Cassandra, slowly pulling the wig off Colson and placing it on the Styrofoam head on the makeup counter. With nimble, practiced fingers she began working at his flattened hair to get it loose for washing. You were always amazed how flat makeup and costume people could get actors’ hair underneath the wigs. Propping yourself up on the counter, you watched her work in comfortable silence until she was finished. Ruffling his hair to signal she was finished, she flashed you a smile.

“All done, pal!”

“Thanks Cas,” said Colson, getting up from the chair. You reached for his free hand as he waved at her with the other as the two of you left the makeup trailer. Colson’s trailer was on the other side of the lot, but you didn’t mind the walk. The air was still warm and any alone time with your boyfriend no matter how small was always nice. Grinning up at him, you tugged at the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“Think you’ll get to keep some of this stuff afterwards?” you asked him.

“Not sure, but I’m kinda growing fond of the pants,” he replied, grinning.

“They look good on you.”

“You sweat buckets in them but they look fuckin’ rad.”

The two of you arrived at Colson’s trailer and you opened the door. It would have been dark inside, except Colson had installed one of those disco-type lights that spins around and shines little circles of colour everywhere that he always left on. Dropping your purse on one of the seats, you watched your boyfriend shrug off the leather jacket and unbutton his leather pants. Stretching, you missed seeing all his tattoos, especially the really big piece on his back. It was your favourite.

“It’s so weird seeing you without your tattoos,” you commented.

“Yeah, it still weirds me out every day.”

“Do you want to eat something or take a shower first?” you inquired, flopping down on the couch that ran under one of the trailer windows.

“Shower.”

“Then pizza?”

“Yes!”

“Sounds like a plan,” you smiled. You watched him tug off the leather pants and toss them onto the back of a chair before sliding open the bathroom door. The bathroom on the trailer wasn’t huge, but it did have a shower which was pretty luxury. Leaving it open a crack, you heard him start the water and wait a minute or two for the water to get warm. There was the usual bumping and thumping and then you couldn’t help but grin when over the sound of water you heard him humming ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’. Relaxing on the couch, you kicked your feet up and entertained yourself by watching the lights go around and around the cabin of the trailer. It was hypnotic and you probably stared at them for well over five minutes before you heard Colson calling for you from the bathroom.

“Hey babe,” he called.

“Yeah?”

“Mind helping me get some of this shit off? I can’t reach.”

“Sure.”

Sliding off the couch, you opened the door to the bathroom. It was all steamy and warm inside, and Colson’s boxers had been discarded on the toilet seat. You couldn’t see into the shower because the glass was all fogged up.

“Want to just open the door and hand me the cloth?” you asked, rolling up your sleeves.

“The water’s gonna get everywhere if I open the door.”

“How do you want me to do this then?”

“The shower’s not that small, get in here.”

“Pardon?” you squeaked.

“Get in here! I can’t reach and I want this stuff off!” he chuckled opening the shower door just a crack to peek his head out. “Take your damn clothes off!”

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you shook your head at him.

“Oh my god,” you laughed. “Fine!”

Your cheeks flushed darker and darker as Colson watched you pull your shirt up over your head and wriggle out of your jeans. Standing there in your underwear, you placed your hands on your hips and looked at him.

“I said take your clothes off,” he said, gesturing at your undergarments.

“All of them?”

“Yes, all of them.”

You bit your lip.

“Fine.”

Undoing the clasp of your bra, you let it join Colson’s underwear on the toilet seat before you did the same with your panties.

“There, you happy now?” you huffed, even though there was a smile on your face.

“Yess,” grinned Colson, pulling away from the door of the shower so you could slip in. There was actually more room in the shower than you were expecting, and the water was nice and hot. Colson had cleaned off a lot of the makeup, but there were still patches on his back that you could see were still covered.

“It’s nice in here,” you remarked, letting the warm water hit your skin.

“It’s nicer with you in here.”

“Oh my god, you’re being so sappy today!” you chided, grabbing the washcloth from his hand. “Turn around so I can get this makeup off.”

Doing as he was told, you slowly started wiping off the makeup. It was pretty heavy duty stuff, and even though he had managed to get most of it from his front, your favourite tattoo was still hidden under the stuff. Holding his bicep with one hand, you used your other to gently uncover his tattoos. You smiled a little to yourself as you realized how much this felt like you were unearthing dinosaur bones or buried treasure. Rubbing the cloth over his shoulders, you carefully wiped off more of the makeup.

“Can you rinse this? There’s a lot of this stuff,” you said, handing your boyfriend the washcloth since he was closer to the stream of water. You leaned into his back and rested your cheek against his arm as he wrung out the cloth and handed it back to you.

“Thanks for doing this by the way,” he said, planting a kiss on top of your hair that was starting to get wet. You rubbed your thumb over his as you took the washcloth back. It was nice to spend a quiet alone moment with him after a long day, and the hot water felt really nice. Going back to your scrubbing, you slowly uncovered more tattoos, working your way from his shoulders down his back. He’d been in pants all day so they didn’t paint up his legs, but everything from the shoulders down to them had been.

Finally you got to your favourite one, the Salvador Dali piece. Wringing out the washcloth, you squeezed next to Colson to wet it again. You smiled up at him, your chest bumping his arm.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I love your tattoos,” you told him, tracing one of the ones on his shoulder with your index finger. “Especially this one.”

You started washing the makeup off the Salvador Dali, tracing bits of it with your other fingers. Feeling Colson shudder a little under your touch, you giggled.

“Sorry,” you apologized, uncovering more of the piece.

“’S okay, just tickles a bit when you do that.”

“Is that so?” you grinned devilishly, doing it again.

“Hey, cut it out!” laughed Colson, turning around so you couldn’t tickle him anymore.

“You still have makeup on you!” you protested, trying to turn him back around by grabbing him by the sides of his arms. He wouldn’t budge.

“Don’t fuckin’ tickle me or I’m gonna start swinging!” he warned, doing fake karate moves with a huge grin on his face. You just laughed.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop,” you promised, smacking him with the washcloth. “Turn around, I’m almost done.”

Guiding him with your hands, you went back to cleaning the remaining makeup off Colson’s lower back until the whole tattoo was uncovered. Hanging up the rag, and tracing one last teasing finger over it, you wiggled in under the water with your boyfriend.

“You’re such a tease!” nagged Colson, referring to your tickling.

“Yeeaaah, but you like it,” you replied cheekily, putting your head under the water and running your hands through it. You felt his hands come to rest on your hips. Wiping water off your forehead, you rested your arms on his shoulders and smiled before giving him a little peck on the lips.

“That’s it?” he asked, feigning being hurt. Shaking your head and rolling your eyes, you kissed him again, longer this time, letting your eyelids flutter closed. Pulling you closer by your hips, Colson kissed you back. This was hands down the best vacation ever. Colson, New Orleans, Motley Crue; it was a dream come true. Surrounded by steam and warm water, you peppered a few more kisses on your boyfriend’s lips before you pulled back.

“Do you still want to get pizza, or do you want to stay in here and get pruny?” you asked him, cocking an eyebrow suggestively. The two of you were chest to chest as warm water cascaded down your back. You watched him think about it for a second before he answered.

“Pizza and sweats.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Pizza and sweatpants it is!”

***

This took so friggin’ long to write I’m so sorry! I kept getting distracted by TNFT. Plus I don’t know much about MGK so I hope this doesn’t suck. I don’t think I’ll do any more MGK requests just ‘cause I don’t feel that comfortable writing about people irl. The Dirt characters yes - the real guys, not so much.

#bandzrus #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly fanfiction #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #the dirt #mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk fanfiction #mgk imagine #fluff #mgk x reader

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etherealwaifgoddess · 5 years ago

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Maybe I Am? - Chpt.4

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Steve frets over his growing interest Bucky and decides to take things to the ~next level~. Master list HERE.

Content Warning: Some truly fantastic blow jobs. Steve being neurotic about what this means for him.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! I’m really excited so many of you are enjoying this fic so far. I don’t know why, but I just got super invested in these characters from the start even though it’s one of my shorter fics. I was literally screeching to my best friend on daily basis while writing this LOL. So thank you for all the sweet feedback and likes and reblogs. Ya’ll make my day! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Four

They fell into a rhythm faster than either one had really expected. They text periodically throughout their days, just silly things they’d found or something about their day they wanted to laugh about or bemoan together. Thanks to Steve being able to adjust his schedule and Bucky working a basic 9-5, they were able to meet up on Friday nights for a date night and typically one other weeknight when they were both free. Sundays became their farmers market day, when they could wander around the busy market in the warm summer sun and drink entirely too many iced coffees. Despite the routine, labels were never used or brought up. Neither man quite sure how to define what they were doing. They were happy with their little routine, neither of them looking to shake things up, but there had been a few times where after weeks of second base, they both wondered when it might be time for more. Steve was terrified of finding his limit and wasn’t willing to risk what they had. Bucky was terrified of pushing Steve too fast and had bitten his tongue a few times when in the heat of the moment he had almost begged to taste Steve’s cock.

It had been over a month of swapping hand jobs and what Steve had learned was called frottage, thank you Google. Steve figured if he didn’t try to mix things up soon he’d never really know where his limit lied. And with how quickly his feelings for Bucky were developing he needed to start figuring things out fast. He was going to be in a world of pain if and when he reached the limit of what he was sexually interested in. Steve had been in rough shape when Peggy left him but the idea of leaving Bucky seemed a thousand times worse already.

Steve finally gathered the nerve to turn on his privacy mode search and look up tips on blow jobs. What he got was a horrific amount of bad porn and women's magazine articles. Most were absolute trash but he did find a few good tips. Though in the end, Steve figured he’d just have to assume what felt good being done to him would most likely feel good for Bucky. As long as he didn’t puke the second it was in his mouth, he was going to consider whatever happened progress. The idea didn’t seem too terrible in theory but Steve’s nerves were still running wild.

They were curled up on Steve’s sofa, Bucky tracing the lines of Steve’s muscles along his chest and stomach. The movie had ended a few minutes before but neither man was willing to move just yet. Steve took a breath and decided it was do or die time. Bucky deserved someone who wasn’t trapped on second base forever. “Hey, Buck.” Steve said quietly, waiting for Bucky to look up at him, “Would it be okay if I sucked your dick? I think I could.”

Bucky took a moment to replay Steve’s words in his head. Nope, still sounded the same. What in the actual fuck?! “Steve, honey, you don’t have to do that if you’re not ready.” Bucky assured him, “I’m so happy with you, with us. Don’t feel like you have to do this unless you really want to.”

Steve sighed, half tempted to take the way out Bucky had offered him. “No, I want to. I do. I just… I’m worried. What happens if I don’t like doing it? If I can’t do it.”

“Then you can’t, Stevie. It’s not the end of the world. It’s not like I’d ever expect it from you. Hell, my ex probably only did it twice in the year we were together.”

“What?” that caught Steve’s attention, “Why?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, “Not all gay guys enjoy sucking cock. And Brock was an asshole, so who knows the real reason. I don’t really believe what he used to say. He, uh, he said a lot of things just to be hurtful.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Steve kissed Bucky softly, wondering how bad his ex really was. He never really talked about it and Steve worried it was worse than Bucky let on. “I do want to try it with you though. You don’t have to reciprocate or anything, I just need to know if I can do this. For me. I’m still trying to figure things out and I need to know.”

“Okay, we can try. And for the record,” he added with a smirk, “I love giving head.”

The sound Steve made at Bucky’s declaration was barely more than a high pitched whine and Bucky cackled like Satan himself with delight.

“Come here you.” Steve cajoled him, pulling Bucky close to resume their kisses. Steve waited until Bucky was making the soft little moans he’d come to know so well. The sign that he was getting impatient and needy for Steve to get him off. Steve loved how easy it was to bring him to that point. Steve pulled back, giving Bucky’s still clothed dick a squeeze before he slipped down onto the floor between Bucky’s legs. Resting on his knees, he helped Bucky get his pants and underwear off, another pair of those silky boxers Bucky seemed to favor that made Steve want to rut up against the silky material like a madman. They had done that once a few weeks earlier. Steve had been completely naked and Bucky in only his silky boxers, they had rutted against one another through the fabric until both their orgasms had snuck up on them before they could help themselves. It had been a little embarrassing but mostly wonderful.

Steve teased Bucky’s shaft a little, trying to work up his courage now that he was down there. Bucky’s hair was blessedly well trimmed and Steve realized he probably should have afforded the same courtesy for Bucky. He made a mental note to take care of that before the next time. If there would be a next time. A small bead of precome formed on the tip and Steve jumped on the opportunity. Leaning forward Steve lapped at the drip of liquid, waiting to see if he could get past the taste. He’d never minded going down on women but he worried a man would be just too different. To his surprise, it wasn’t awful. Not exactly something he would crave, but the bitter tang on his tongue was manageable. Encouraged, Steve braced his palms on Bucky’s hips and tentatively lowered his mouth around Bucky’s dick.

Bucky wanted to weep at the sight of Steve licking the little bead of precome off the tip of his cock. His beautiful blonde adonis settled so easily between his legs was a sight to behold. When Steve took the head into his mouth Bucky fought to stay still, letting Steve take his time and figure things out. Though much to his delight Steve figured it out pretty quickly. He barely got half the way down Bucky’s shaft with the first few eager bobs of his head but it was enough to have Bucky trembling beneath him. Steve looked up through his impossibly long lashes and Bucky about lost it. He threaded his fingers through Steve’s thick blonde hair, giving him a soft smile of adoration. Steve resumed his tentative sucking, testing how far down he could go comfortably, too afraid of gagging himself and ruining the moment. The more he bobbed the more confident he grew, carefully hollowing his cheeks to increase the suction around Bucky’s dick. He started lapping his tongue along the underside too, reveling in the way Bucky completely lost his composure when he did that.

There was something powerful being able to bring Bucky to a babbling mess with a few swipes of his tongue. Giving head was nothing like Steve had feared it would be. It was better than he could have expected and he found that the things he’d always loved about going down on a woman, he loved about going down on Bucky. The trembling thighs bracketing his head, the deep earthy scent of being at someone’s core, the trust it took for someone to let him do this, even the way curly short hairs tickled his nose when he pressed in deep. Steve felt himself getting worked up as he continued and he reached down for a moment to push his growing erection down with the heel of his hand. He wondered briefly if maybe next time he could multitask enough to get himself off while going down on Bucky. Because there was damn well going to be a next time at this rate.

Bucky knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he’d wanted to as soon as Steve started experimenting with his tongue. He wanted to give Steve as much warning as he could but all that he could come up with was filthy praise. “God, Stevie,” he panted out, half delirious, “That’s so good, honey. God just like that, yeah. Oh god you’re so good at that. Driving me wild, honey.”

Steve made a muffled happy noise at the praise and the vibrations in his throat went straight to Bucky’s dick. He keened, trying to hold back his eminent release. “Stevie.” he pleaded, “Stevie wait. I’m gonna. Shit honey, I can’t… I’m gonna.”

Steve was undeterred knowing what was, quite literally, coming next. He took Bucky in as deep as he could, figuring that would be easiest, and gave one last burst of intense suction until Bucky was coming down his throat, hot and fast. It was startling but after he got past the initial shock it was over before he could really mind. Steve pulled back once Bucky finished, settling back to sit on his heels with a smug grin on his face. Bucky, on the other hand, looked positively wrecked.

“Jesus God, honey.” Bucky finally rasped out in disbelief. “That was…” he shook his head, “That was perfection.”

“I did okay?” Steve forced himself to ask, needing to ensure he really had done an at least passable job. He was still a little breathless, his dick half chubbed in his pants and growing as he took in Bucky’s post orgasmic glow.

“Better than okay. You were amazing.” Bucky reached out and took both of Steve’s hands in his, needing to ensure he was alright. “Are you okay though? Really? That wasn’t too much or anything? You really didn’t have to swallow.”

“It was fine,” Steve answered truthfully, “I loved seeing you so blissed out like that, knowing I was the one making you feel that way. And swallowing was over before I could really process it, so no big deal.”

“You are one in a fucking million, Steve Rogers.” Bucky shifted forward so he could kiss his man, so overwhelmed with affection for him. He pulled him up after a few heated kisses, wanting to feel those solid muscles crowding him in. Bucky raised an eyebrow as Steve leaned himself up and onto Bucky. “Um,” he tried not to chuckle, “It seems like someone really did enjoy himself.”

Steve blushed lightly, hiding his face in the curve of Bucky’s neck, “Mhm. I, uh, I enjoyed it quite a bit.”

At that Bucky did let out a short cackle, raining kisses down on Steve’s blushing face, “You’re a fucking gem. God, I…” Bucky cut himself off with a sharp cough. “A real fucking gem, honey.” He added somewhat lamely.

Steve was oblivious to Bucky’s misstep, practically preening under the affection and praise, still teetering on the edge of full arousal. He would have been more than happy to continue skirting that edge, Bucky’s hand rubbing against him lightly while they necked like teenagers. But Bucky was not going to pass up the opportunity to get Steve’s cock in his mouth at last. He wasn’t exaggerating when he’d bragged he loved sucking cock. He truly did. Every part of it, too. And because of his enthusiasm he’d had plenty of practice over the years. Bucky was thankful for that practice, too, because even after the newness of Steve had started to wear off, he was still convinced Steve had the absolute most beautiful cock he’d ever seen. It was like going from the minors to the big leagues, he mused happily.

“Hey, honey.” he crooned in between kisses, “Can I return the favor?”

“Hm?” Steve murmured, confused.

“I’ve been dying to get your cock in my mouth for weeks. Please? Let me return the favor?”

Steve’s choked off moan was answer enough but he forced out his words, “Yeah. God, yeah, Buck. But only if you want to.”

“Oh I want to. Believe me. I’d have to be crazy not to want you.”

Steve huffed a light laugh as Bucky drug the waistband of his pants and boxer briefs down, moving himself down the length of Steve’s body in the process. He was fully hard and the head slapped against the hard V shaped plane of his lower stomach, leaving a trail of precome where it landed.

Bucky had his mouth around the head of Steve’s cock seconds after tossing his clothes to the side. He wasn’t about to waste any time and he wanted to make sure this was a blow job Steve would never forget. He pulled out all his best tricks, alternating suction and speed, letting his hands knead at Steve’s balls while his mouth deep throated him like a champ, even running his nails along Steve’s inner thighs while dragging just the slightest hint of bottom teeth along the underside of his cock. Steve was barely coherent after the last one and Bucky wondered if anyone had ever played with Steve’s ass before. His whole body shook fiercely when Bucky’s hands would glance over his taint and brush over the curve of his ass right behind it. Bucky was tempted, so tempted, and while he was still worried about freaking Steve out, if he played his cards right Steve was in for one hell of a treat.

Bucky started his exploration slow, keeping his mouth busy with a steady holding pattern of torture. Enough that Steve was still making those gorgeous little noises in the back of his throat, but not enough that he was in danger of coming. It gave him enough time to sneak his index finger along Steve’s taint and then slip between his ass cheeks for a quick flick.

Steve’s whole body jerked when the pad of Bucky’s finger ghosted over his surprisingly sensitive hole. It was unexpected but felt too good for him to object. Steve knew if he spoke up Bucky would stop, but in the heat of the moment he wanted to ride it out to see where things went. He trusted Bucky wouldn’t push him too hard too fast, so he just focused on trying to stay in his seat and not choking the poor beautiful man between his legs with an unintended thrust.

Bucky wanted to cheer at Steve’s reaction and it emboldened him to keep exploring. He let the tip of his finger flutter against Steve’s hole as he continued to suck his shaft down as deep as he comfortably could. He cupped Steve’s balls with his other hand, adding that sensation to the mix as well with stellar results.

“Shit,” Steve keened, “Buck, baby, shitshitshit. I’m gonna…”

Bucky just nodded as he bobbed his head, fully aware of where Steve was at and what he needed to do to take him over the edge. Pressing firmly with the tip of his finger he pushed ever so slightly into Steve’s hole, not enough to breach that tight ring of muscle inside but enough to be felt. Steve was writhing and then Bucky wiggled his finger, just gently, while hollowing out his cheeks and giving Steve’s balls a squeeze.

Steve shattered.

It was too much all at once and he came with a broken sob as his body shook almost violently. He had no control over his limbs or his voice as great sobbing moans broke free from his chest. His body trembled even after his orgasm began to fade and Bucky clamored up onto the sofa next to him. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve from the side, tugging him close and holding on to him tightly. It took a long minute for Steve to compose himself and for the world to really come back into to focus for him. But when he finally did, it was to Bucky holding him, rubbing soothing circles on his back with one hand, and whispering sweet nonsense in his ear. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so protected and cherished. Tears prickled at his eyes and he didn’t dare speak until he was certain he could trust his voice.

Bucky noticed as Steve became more aware of himself, but he pretended to ignore the little tears that welled in the corners of the other man’s eyes. Steve sniffed harshly, letting out a long woosh of a breath. “That was….” he trailed off, at a loss for adequate words.

Bucky grinned and pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, cuddling in a little. “Told ya I love giving head.”

“You’re like the fucking king of it. My knees are still all tingly.”

“Aww, honey. It wasn’t too much, was it? I know we didn’t talk about ass play yet but I figured a little tease wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’m glad we didn’t.” Steve admitted quietly, “I probably would have psyched myself out of it. And it was… okay? Good?”

“Thank you, for trusting me like that. We should talk about it, though. Figure out what you’re willing to try, and go at a pace you’re comfortable with. It can be so good, honey, you got no idea.”

“Oh, I got a little bit of an idea.” Steve laughed.

Bucky chuckled with him, “Yeah, I guess you did. I won’t rush you though, promise. We can take as long as you need.”

“I don’t-” Steve started and stopped with a frown, “I don’t know how long that’ll be, Buck. I’m sorry. I want to be better for you but I’m still a little scared.”

Bucky’s heart was bursting at Steve’s admission. “I know, and it’s okay. We’ll go at your pace. And I’m not asking you to bottom for me. I prefer that myself, actually.”

Steve groaned a little imagining Bucky coming apart underneath him while he fucked the smaller man into the mattress. He was getting ahead of himself but it was a damn nice image. “We’ll get there.” Steve promised to him, as much as to himself.

They stayed curled up for a little longer until the air conditioning proved too strong and they both pulled their pants back up over goosebumped legs. Bucky begged off after that, to both of their disappointments. It was late and reasonably they both needed sleep but still, Bucky knew it wouldn’t be long until one of them cracked and they started spending the night together.

Steve looked around his apartment after Bucky headed out, painfully aware of how empty and silent it was. Part of him wished he’d asked Bucky to stay. Not that he could have, he didn’t have overnight stuff with him, but Steve hated going to bed alone after such a nice evening. That had been the hardest part of adapting to life post-Peggy, sleeping alone again. She had never been much of a cuddler, much to Steve’s disappointment, but she at least warmed the other side of his too big bed.

As Steve curled up in still too big bed, he worried that things with Bucky were all going to be over in a blink. That things were destined to become just a distant memory of the time Steve had tried something different for a while. His heart ached thinking about it. But what was the alternative? He and Bucky actually made it work? He would come out as gay? Bi? To all his friends and coworkers? Explain that no he hadn’t lost his mind, it really just took him thirty years of life to realize he liked men. Would he and Bucky slowly merge their things until they were practically living together? Would his early class day alarm drive Bucky crazy three days a week? Would he bring flowers home after exasperating Bucky over something silly like forgetting to fold his clothes or leaving dishes in the sink? Would Bucky save him a warm plate of dinner on the nights he had to work late? Steve’s mind swam with possibilities he’d never really let himself consider before. He knew it was foolish to dream, that this was a nice fantasy but he’d soon have to get back to real life, as much as it pained him. Still, despite the warnings he gave himself, Steve drifted off to sleep with the dreams of early morning cuddles and quiet late night conversations in his mind.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #idiots in love #lots of smut

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sexedforbiguys · 6 years ago

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Dating men, women, and nonbinary folks – Sex Ed for Bi Guys

This is the SFW/censored version of this post. You can view the uncensored, sexually explicit version here on Pillowfort. All images are borrowed from the internet and are in the post because I like them. If you are the copyright owner or a person in the image, contact me: I’ll gladly credit you, or remove the image at your request.

At some point, bisexual, polysexual, and pansexual guys face the situation of going on a date with a person of a different gender than what they’re used to – typically when a guy has only ever dated women, or when a guy has only ever dated men. Or maybe you’ve dated very little, and the prospect is intimidating. Here are pointers that will help make this an enjoyable experience and avoid some obvious missteps.

Asking someone out

This is the part a lot of people find the hardest, and we’re not even on the actual date. In a nutshell, I’d say: be mindful of context; pay attention to the signals the person has been sending you; say what you want clearly and directly; but make it clear the person can decline, and leave plenty of room for a graceful exit.

Context means being aware of the situation through which you know the person, as well as any existing power dynamics. Asking a friend or an acquaintance out is different that asking a coworker, or someone who’s in a hierarchical relationship with you (that last one is often a bad idea, and it might be forbidden by the organization’s rules or flat out illegal in some situations).

Likewise, when you are asking a woman out, or a nonbinary or trans person who was seen as a woman for a good chunk of their life, you must be aware of this: women and people who are seen as such get a lot of unwanted sexual attention. Acknowledge that, and act accordingly. For example, you could make your approach with “I know you probably get a lot of unwanted attention from guys and feel free to say no, but I really like [this] and [this] about you, and I wanted to know if you’d like to go out sometime.” This is less of an issue with cisgender men (cisgender means a person agrees with the gender the doctor diagnosed them with at birth, as opposed to transgender) and to some extent transgender men, but you should still make it clear that it’s fine for the person to say no and give them the opportunity to do so subtly and politely.

Also, before making an ask, pay attention to the signals they’ve been sending you. Does the person smile a lot when they’re interacting with you? Do they make a lot of eye contact? Or are they preserving some distance and boundaries with you? If you notice the latter, they will probably turn you down – but then again, some people are just shy and awkward, and they might be delighted if you took the first steps. But when you think they are closed to an ask, give them even more opportunity to back out with grace. Finally, even if you notice positive signals from the person, they could say no for all kinds of reasons that don’t necessarily have to do with you: they might like you but not that way; they’re not on the market for dating; they’re too busy; or if it’s another man, they’re not ready to date another guy, etc.

Still, asking an acquaintance or a friend out is different than asking someone you’ve just met. When you have a potential romantic interest in an acquaintance, I suggest you ask them out sooner rather than later – if things aren’t going to work out, you’d rather know before you get too infatuated with them. If they are a long-time friend, be aware it can impact your friendship, but strong friendships can survive the realization that one of you wants something different than the other, as long as respect a no – and it’s fair to take some time and space to process your disappointment and heal before you resume the friendship.

Asking someone out that you’ve just met is lower stakes, but be ever so aware of the power dynamics I’ve mentioned above (expect cis men in a queer setting to react better than anybody else to being asked out out of the blue), and don’t be a creep – once again, give them the chance to make an elegant exit. A good ask could sound like “Hey, I’m aware this is sudden and that you could be getting a lot of unwanted attention from guys, but I really dig your style and I’d like the chance to get to know you better. You don’t have to respond to this, but here’s my number if you ever feel like texting me to chat and maybe go out.”

If things look good and the person says they’re interested to go out on a date with you, it’s best to arrange right away what the activity will be, the place, and the time. It’s also easier to ask someone out by proposing something concrete instead of just asking if they will go on a date with you. When you don’t know the person very much, you should ask what kind of stuff they like doing and see if there’s something you both like that you could do.

You can’t make someone like you

A lot of guys feel that flirting, wooing, and dating is an attempt to win the person over or to get them to like them. But you can’t get someone to like you. When they find you attractive and they like your personality, the potential for a connection is already there. But when they don’t, you can’t change that and you can create uncomfortable situations if you attempt to. It’s disappointing to realize someone you like isn’t into you, and it’s okay to feel that way. But you can’t change it, and it’s better to move on. Feelings people have for each other can change over time: there are a lot of stories of platonic friends eventually discovering a romantic connection. But it’s not the result of trying to get someone to like you; it’s just intimacy deepening over time – and often it just doesn’t happen, and you will break you heart pining over a person who doesn’t reciprocate your affection hoping it will change someday (especially with a mostly heterosexual man).

There are some people with old-fashioned values however who expect their suitor to woo and court them, and to display insistence. It creates a dangerous situation though in which you can’t know what’s going on, and you can easily cross a line into harassment when you read the situation wrong. As a rule, I’d advise you to not get involved sexually or romantically with a person who isn’t willing to say what they want; these games just create drama and sometimes worse situations. Finally, while you can’t get someone to like you, there are however plenty of ways that you can ruin things with someone who actually liked you if you try too hard, put pressure on them, or act like a creep (especially with women). So make your peace with the fact that a lot of the time, the other person just won’t be into you; it comes with asking people out. But unless there is something very wrong with your appearance or your behavior, there will be people who are into you and you’ll meet them someday.

The actual date

My #1 advice: don’t see this as a date. You’re two people hanging out, or getting together for a movie, a dinner, or a brew. Maybe sexy times are in the cards; maybe they aren’t. But the more you see this as just two persons hanging out to get to know each other, the less stressed out you’re going to be, and the better of a time you’re going to have. The gender of the person you’re going out with doesn’t matter for this – my best dates have been in that mindset. Frankly, I think it’s the secret to the whole thing – people make a much bigger deal out of dating than it needs to be.

The cliche: be yourself. The nice, presentable version of yourself; not the Foul Bachelor Frog version. But don’t put up a facade or a front. If your dating partner is going to like you, you want them to like you for who you are. So be genuine.

About hygiene and clothing: be on the ball on this, but don’t overdo it. Shower and clean your genitals. Go easy on the deodorant/cologne/aftershave. Wear nice undies, but no need for those $40 trunks unless that’s your thing (I wear Joe Boxer boxer briefs, and it’s never stopped me from getting laid). Put on clothes in which you feel comfortable and make you look great, but don’t overdress – you risk intimidating the other person. Think casual, unless the two of you somehow decided to go together someplace swanky, or you love to dress sharp.

Be prepared for sex: keep condoms with you at all times, and know how to use them properly, even if you don’t expect sex on a first date. You don’t know what will happen, especially if substances are involved… or because you’re both horny. Also bring lube along if you’re open to butt sex, or if you use it for wanking. If your date is with someone who has a uterus and you’re not used to that, preventing an unplanned pregnancy is something you must be mindful of – condoms aren’t just for protecting the two of you from STIs. If the prospect of sex comes up, ask your partner what kind of contraception method(s) they use on their end. If the idea of an unplanned pregnancy terrifies you, combine condoms with another contraception method (even not ejaculating inside your partner on top of using a condom will do); they’re not as reliable as some other methods of contraception in day-to-day use, unless you know the ins-and-outs (no pun intended) of using them perfectly.

Be savvy about gender identity: the person you’re about to hang out with could be trans and you might not know about it, or they could have more complex views of their own gender than what you’re used to. You might be starting to hang out in queer circles if your date is not a cisgender woman, which means you’ll run into people with diverse gender identities. It’s a huge topic, and I can’t cover it all here (and I’m not the ideal person to do it), but this short guide covers the important basics with links to other resources at the end. You should give it a read, on the off chance the person you’re going out with ends up coming out to you as trans. When you do know you are going on a date with a trans person, brush up on your manners as a trans ally.

If you are a trans or nonbinary guy, or both: the biggest question on your mind might be when to come out to that other person you might end up seeing on a regular basis, assuming you aren’t out already. It’s a big deal. Besides the possibility of rejection, coming out could at times put you in danger, especially if you’re trans. Even when that other person is well-meaning, they might know little about how to be a good trans or nonbinary ally, and say or behave in ways that are not cool or that could trigger feelings of dysphoria. There is also the risk of them outing you to other people you both know. The decision to come out belongs to you, and you do not owe a coming out to anyone. Taking longer to come out means that you have more time to assess how safe coming out to that person is. They will also get to know you as a person before they are confronted to any prejudices they might have against trans or nonbinary people. On the other hand: the emotional stakes become higher; you have to deal longer with the anxiety of being closeted; and in a dating context, you might feel that the longer you take to come out, the harder it is to do so. But trust your gut and your judgment.

Coming out as a bi/pan/polysexual guy: speaking of coming out, a lot of people wonder when and how to bring up that they’re bisexual, pansexual, or polysexual to a new dating partner. I would say the sooner the better, without making it appear forced. Get it out of the way before either of you gets emotionally attached, in case your dating partner ends up being a biphobic or monosexist (someone who believes being attracted to a single gender is the only valid experience) a**hole. As most people meet dating partners online nowadays, you should state your sexual orientation in your profile if you’re comfortable with that. For people who are fine with having a visible marker, wearing a pin that states your orientation or wearing the bi colours can work too (many people miss or misinterpret subtle markers though – numerous people have mistaken my ‘BI’ pin as standing for Business Intelligence…). When each other’s dating or previous partner history comes up, it’s a good time to mention that you like different genders and that you’ve been with people who aren’t the same gender than your dating partner (without spending too much time talking about exes, which is risky territory). Along a similar line, you can ask your partner if they’re only into men or if they also like other genders, and elaborate on your own orientation and experiences after that. If you haven’t had the chance to come out and discuss each other’s orientation by the third time you see each other, it’s time to make that conversation happen before either of you gets too invested in the exciting new relationship.

Biphobia and monosexism: the sad truth is that they can rear their ugly head in the dating game. Most of us have heard the words “I wouldn’t date a bi guy; I’m too afraid they’d leave me for a man/woman” – these situations suck. Those prejudices can come from any dating partner, even queer ones – sometimes even from other bi people (internalized biphobia is a thing). You should also be aware that you’re more likely to run into this with heterosexual women, unfortunately. In a 2016 survey from Glamour, 63% of women responded they wouldn’t date a man who’s had sex with another man – not just bi men, but any men who has experimented with another guy even once. Some bi, pan, and polysexual guys choose to restrict their dating pool to queer people for that reason. If someone treats you poorly because of their biphobia, try to find some people who embrace your sexual orientation for support, even if it’s just online.

On your physical safety: if you’re getting together for the first time with a person you’ve met online – another man especially – you may want to take a few steps to protect your safety. Since we can face homo/bi/transphobia, we need to be more careful about this than most people. The risk to your physical safety depends on where you live and in many cases, you might feel these steps are unnecessary. I’m providing the tips in case you ever feel you need them.

Meet in a public space first.

Spend some time talking with the person before you head to a private setting like their home or yours.

Trust your gut – if you get a bad feeling about things, excuse yourself and leave.

Let a trusted person know that you are meeting someone you met online; if your date is another guy, it’s more difficult to let a friend know when you’re in the closet, but you can always describe the encounter as platonic.

Agree to check in with that friend once in a while, and text them the address of any place you end up going, especially if you expect to be alone with your date.

How to be a decent conversationalist: remember that while you have two ears, you have only one mouth – so be more of a listener than a talker. Ask questions. Show genuine interest in what the other person has to say, in who they are. Listen. Say your piece when it’s appropriate, but keep the balance tilted in favour of listening to your dating partner rather than talking about yourself.

On sexual innuendo: a lot of queer guys love their sexual innuendo (but not all of them, however, so be mindful of that), even more so if they’re interested in what’s in the pants of the person they’re chatting up. Personally, I find it’s the fun bit about hanging out with queers: the relaxed, casual flirting and slinging of sexual innuendo. Not everyone is like that though: how comfortable someone is with sexuality varies from one person to another. But one of the things many queer guys love from spending time with each other is that we have permission to acknowledge that yeah, many of us are a bunch of f***ing horndogs. The innuendo doesn’t necessarily mean that the other guy wants to end up in your bed (because sexual innuendo is fun in and of itself), but it’s a sign you guys are on the right track when that’s your plan, and it’s a great way of testing the waters. Plus, it’s liberating when you’re not used to expressing the homo end of your sexuality. On the other hand, be more cautious with innuendo with women or people who have been perceived as women at some point in their life – it’s best to test the waters a bit before engaging in that, or to let them make the first move on that front. They might have had bad experiences with sexual harassment or with nasty gender power dynamics, and misplaced sexual innuendo can make you come across as a creep, or at the set off red flags.

Substances: think about how much you want to use and figure out whether the two of you are on the same page on this, or not. A lot of bi guys like to drink or smoke pot. Some like stronger drugs on occasion, or often. Some people get together for the first time and have a lot of fun getting thrashed together (especially if they’re both guys). Others don’t use at all. A conflict can happen if the two of you have different values or expectations about substance use though. Also, when one of you, or both, is less comfortable or experienced with their sexuality, the temptation to use (and use a lot) can be stronger, if just to ease up on the shyness, but this is especially true of bi guys exploring same-sex experiences. When you are planning on using (even if your plans are just a social drink or joint) is to:

pack condoms and lube ahead of time;

pace yourself, and remember that mixing substances often amplifies their effect;

and hold back from using to the point where you take sexual risks you would not have taken, or where one of you guys can’t consent anymore.

It’s not consensual sex if one of you is way too far gone, even when they’re the ones coming on to the other person (this can be a lot more complex and nuanced than that in reality, and a drunk person can also sexually assault a sober person – but it’s still a good ground rule to keep). The right thing to do is to make sure your date gets home safe, and to give them a raincheck on that hot sex for when you are reassured they have a better handle on the decisions they’re making. Still, if you’re using because you don’t think you could go through with sex with the other person, you should think twice about what you’re doing. I’m not judging – the first guy with whom I ever had sex and I got thrashed on sambuca before we could ever get down to the sexing. But it’s okay to feel vulnerable when having those first sexual experiences with someone from a different gender than with whom you usually have sex. When it’s with another guy, it’s okay when there are feelings of guilt or shame you haven’t worked through yet. It might be better to wait until you are comfortable with someone to explore your sexuality together, and share with them how the experience makes you feel, even the less pleasant stuff.

Who pays for stuff? If you’re two guys, you usually come to an agreement to pay for your own things, split the bill, or alternate between buying rounds when it’s a bar date. Even on a heterosexual date, I would be really uncomfortable with assuming that I’d pay for my female friend, unless I was taking her out for her birthday or something. It’s the 21st century, people; I’d also expect nonbinary and genderqueer people to not be into that. Still, some people are old-fashioned that way, so it’s best to clear up ahead of time what the expectations are.

To go, or not to go for the kiss? There is only one acceptable answer for that in my book: ask the other person. I know not everyone agrees on that one – some people think talking “ruins the mood” (I call bulls*** on that one). But consent and respect matter. Always make sure your partners are into what you want to try, and reassure them that a “no” or changing their mind in the middle of things are okay. It’s the same thing even in a situation in which you’re two guys. But when your partner’s gender is different than yours, be especially mindful of gender power dynamics at play. You can just say: “I think you’re really hot. Do you want to make out, or that’s not something you want to do with me?” It’s easier to ask than most people think. Still, read body language before you ask. Is their posture open? Do they laugh easily with you? Is there a lot of eye contact? Some light touching? When those are there, it’s a good sign (but not a guarantee they’re into you that way). I’ve always asked people for permission to kiss them for the first time, even when their eyes where screaming at me to do it, and I was always glad I did.

What about sex on the first date? There are a whole bunch of misconceptions about this (spoilers: I’m a sex on the first date kinda guy). Sex is nice, and pleasure is good for you. Having sex on your first meeting with another person will not spoil the potential future relationship with you. We’re all human, and sometimes we lose interest in a person after we’ve gotten in their pants. But if there are affinities for a meaningful friendship or romantic relationship, I can assure you that shagging that person on your first encounter isn’t going to ruin any of those affinities – quite the opposite in fact. Sharing orgasms is quite the bonding experience, and getting unrequited lust out of the way lets us see better what we want with the person. I’ve shagged my future husband on our first date, and I’ve become good friends with a lot of people with whom I hooked up early on. Also, while there are people who would judge you for putting out on the first date, no one has any business doing so. It’s a sad thing to say, but shagging on the first date can be a good filter for judgmental people. If anyone would reject you for giving them sexual pleasure on your first encounter, I don’t think you want them in your life. Some people think withholding sex is a way of getting the other person to “prove” their genuine interest in you. You might yourself feel that way. But interest or love are things that can be only proven over time, and not in a matter of a few weeks or months. Now, if you want to become intimate with a person (or at least get to know them a bit) before you have any kind of sex with them, that’s fine. There are all kinds of good reasons to make that decision, and no one should treat you poorly for that. The hook-up app world and the cruising scene with other men can make you feel that you have to put out or else no one will be into you, and that your values on sex and relationships are unpopular. But if you are honest about your needs and present them early on without being judgmental yourself about people who hook-up quickly, a lot of people will respect that, especially when they like you as a person. Finally, the same goes when you’re still uncomfortable about having sex with a person of that gender – a lot of bi guys feel conflicting emotions when that possibility arises, especially with another man. Honesty is the best policy in those situations, and you deserve someone who’ll be supportive of you through those new experiences. It’s okay to say: “This whole ‘having sex with a [insert the person’s gender or identity]’ thing is new to me, and I feel a bit out of my depth. I’m really into you, but I want to know that I can stop or that we’ll take things slowly if I need to.”

Often, it just doesn’t work out: the reality is that most of the dates you will go on won’t lead to a romantic relationship (or even a hook-up). The point of dating is to get to know the other person and to explore whether there’s a potential connection there or not. But most of the time, there isn’t, and that’s okay; when you’ll make your peace with that, you will enjoy dating a lot more. Sometimes, a date just doesn’t lead to a second meeting. At other times, one of the persons excuses themselves early to cut the awkwardness short. This is all fine, and it comes with the territory. Sometimes someone gets stood up and a date is a no-show. That sucks, and while you can’t do anything to prevent someone else from doing this to you, let the other person know if you decide not to go, even if it is awkward. It’s better than them going there for nothing, and it reflects better on you.

How to follow up: sometimes though, the date was exciting and fun, and you want to see the person again. (Sometimes it was fun for you, but the other person doesn’t feel the same way though – see above.) Then you’ll run into the question of when to follow-up. A lot of people used to have a rule of waiting three days before following up on a good date, just to avoid appearing too eager. In our day and age though, three days can easily come across as ghosting (having cut off conversation with the other person), a common occurrence on dating and hook-up apps. Let the other person know quickly that you had a good time and that you hope you see them again. But past this point, give the other person the opportunity of making the conversation happen. It will be a good indicator of how interested they are (believe me, if they like you, you’ll hear back from them), but it also leaves room for the connection to end with grace when it turns out the other person isn’t into you – a lot of people just won’t say that they didn’t have as good of a time as you did, and constantly contacting them increases the awkwardness. Another thing you should be careful about is to get attached to quickly. It’s easy to get excited after an enjoyable date, and that’s understandable. But you don’t know each other well yet(unless you were long-time friends), and it’s yet unclear how the other person feels about you. There is still room for things not to work out, and you’ll be heartbroken if you attach yourself too quickly. It’s also scary for the other person if you break out the “I love yous” on date number 2 or 3. Take this burgeoning relationship one day at a time; if the two of you do like each other, things will work out.

Hopefully, some of this stuff will put you in a better position to enjoy a successful date (or to take in stride a date that doesn’t work out). Have fun on your date!

Tip me or become a monthly supporter on Ko-fi if this post has helped you and you can afford it! I am going to university full-time in the Fall to become a better educator. Supporting Sex Ed for Bi Guys means I have time to work on the series and continue helping people online, instead of working a part-time job while I'm in school. Support the series if you think bisexual, pansexual, and polysexual men deserve support and quality sex ed! Supporters get exclusive perks.

Come see us on r/BisexualMen on Reddit; we are a supportive community for bisexual, bicurious, pansexual, and polysexual men (cis, trans, and nonbinary), as well as for men questioning their sexual orientation. We also have a SFW and a NSFW chatrooms that are pretty active.

Check out all Sex Ed for Bi Guys posts here, including articles such as ”Am I bi?”, Butt Sex 101, and Sex with a Clit Owner.

#sex ed for bi guys #dating #bisexual #bisexuality #polysexual #pansexual #queer #sex education #women #nonbinary #bi men

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waywardnerd67 · 6 years ago

Text

Mr. Fix It

Title: Mr. Fix It Square Filled: Neighbor Pairing: Jared x Reader Characters: Jared Padalecki, Reader Warnings: Fluff/Smut/Mild Spanking (for those who may not be into that) Summary: Jared offers to help fix up his new neighbor’s house including helping her put her brand new bed together. Word Count: 2309 Created for: @spnkinkbingo

Check Out: SPN Kink Bingo 2.0 Masterlist

Jared had spent his first week off from filming watching his new neighbor move into the house across from his. It was quite the fixer upper for someone who was seemingly living by herself. When his co-star and best friend, Jensen had come over to encouraged Jared to go over and introduce himself. Jared was always weary about putting himself out there never knowing who was a fan or not.

He looked out to see her trying to fix her mailbox. Chuckling he grabbed his post digger out of the garage and walked across the street. “Hi there.”

She looked up with the most gorgeous (Y/C/E) eyes and her (Y/C/H) was pulled back short strands falling down in front of her face. “Hi, you must be the actor.” She said holding out her hand, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Jared. Which one of our neighbors ratted me out?” he asked as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Mrs. Heggins down the street. She invited me over for dinner and gave me all the scoop on everyone. You’re the handsome actor who is hardly ever home and when you are you tend to keep to yourself.” (Y/N) smiled as Jared ran his hand through his long hair.

He stepped beside her taking her shovel away and began pushing his post digger into the ground, “I guess that is accurate, except the handsome part maybe. I saw you struggling out here, so I decided to break my hermetic living to come help you out.”

“My hero.” She said stepping out of his way.

Jared and (Y/N) ended up talking and working for the whole afternoon. Her house truly needed a lot of work and he volunteered himself to help out whenever his schedule permitted it. By the time, the moon was high in the dark sky Jared was pooped not remembering the last time he had done so much physical labor.

“I cannot thank you enough for helping me today. I think you really are my hero.” She handed him the last tool for his box and he latched it closed.

They exchanged phone numbers while he was looking at his schedule on his phone, “I will come over next week once I’m back from my conventions to help you out some more.” He grabbed he things starting to walk down her driveway.

She called out to him from her garage, “Thank you again and I agree with Mrs. Heggins about the handsome part.”

He turned around seeing her grinning as her garage door closed. Jared had a wide smile on his own face that did not go away the whole time he was gone for work. The whole time he was gone they texted with one another getting to know each other. He enjoyed chatting with her and his entire Supernatural family could tell a huge difference in him.

“Jared, I don’t know what is going on but whatever has change keep that in your life. You just seem so happy this week.” Kim Rhodes mentioned as he sat backstage for the Saturday Night Concert.

Jensen chuckled, “He met a girl and is helping her move furniture around her house.”

Jared threw a wadded up napkin at his best friend feeling his cheeks burning slightly. Honestly, he could not wait to get back home to see her, but everything seemed too good to be true. One thing he learned early in life was if it sounded too good then it probably was.

When Clif dropped him off at his house there was a small basket on his front porch. It was filled with snacks and a bottle of whiskey along with a broken mallet. Picking it up he walked inside seeing there was also a note in the basket.

“Glad you’re back! I’ll provide dinner and whiskey if you will come put my bed together. I tried to do it myself and I somehow broke my hammer. Help a poor girl out. Thanks! –(Y/N).” Jared laughed looking down at the mallet again.

He took a quick shower and grabbed the bottle of whiskey heading over to (Y/N)’s house. Upon knocking on her door, he could hear her cursing loudly before yelling, “Come on in!”

Her voice sounded like it was coming from the lower level of the house, “Where are you?” he called out walking through towards her kitchen.

“Downstairs fighting with my god forsaken bed frame!” Jared chuckled walking down the stairs to find (Y/N) glaring down on the offense furniture.

Her entire lower level was made into a master bedroom suite that even made him jealous. “Wow this is the largest bedroom I’ve ever been in.”

(Y/N) chuckled walked over to the make shift table holding her glass of whiskey. “Yeah I know. I debated on if I should take the master bedroom on the main floor or come down here.”

She poured him a glass of his own handing it to him, “So what was the deciding factor?” he asked.

“Honestly? If I ever have kids I want them to have the room on the second floor and then the master bedroom be used for a guest room. That way the guest can have their own bathroom and space. Also, if I decided to be extra loud then this room is pretty sound proof.” She said then covered her mouth.

Jared started laughing as her cheeks turned pink, “Loud huh?” he asked making her bury her face in her hand.

“I may have had a few whiskeys before you arrived making my filter broken tonight.” He grinned down at her setting his glass on the table.

“It’s alright, I’m glad to know I can basically ask you anything and get an honest answer out of you.” He headed over to the pieces of her bed frame looking over everything.

(Y/N) sat down out of the way watching him, “Yep! No better truth serum than Jack.”

Slowly Jared started moving parts around and building her frame up. She would help by grabbing tools for him or holding a piece in place. After two hours and a bottle of Jack, her bed was all set up ready for her to sleep in. Looking down at his phone he saw it was past midnight as she flopped down onto her mattress.

“Ah… this feels so good.” She moaned as Jared held his breath swallowing the groan that tried to escape.

Seeing her sprawled out across the bed with her shorts riding up her slender legs and tank top just barely covering her breasts had his shorts feeling a little more snug than normal. She looked up at him waving for him to come closer.

“Come on, test it out. You earned laying on here more than me.” She patted the bed next her as he cautiously laid down next to her.

The mattress was ridiculously comfortable. He could not help but think about the fact that the frame and mattress were so solid it would take a lot of movement to move either of them. The thought of testing his theory out had him sitting up quickly so she would not see the bulge in his shorts. Jared looked over catching a glimpse of her tank top riding up her stomach as she stretched further over the bed.

When he glanced up to her eyes he knew you had been caught looking at her. Turning his head, he chuckled, “Sorry can’t help it. I’m a typical dude.”

“I don’t mind. I’ve been eyeing you all night as you worked on my bed.” Her confession made his heart thumb against his chest.

(Y/N) sat up placing her arms around his neck and straddling his lap. She bit her lower lip looking away from him slightly, “All I’ve been thinking about is how I want to test out my new bed with you.”

Jared ran his hands up her thighs gripping them as he rested his forehead against hers, “Me too.” He whispered as she looked up at him.

There was a brief moment of tension between them before their lips collided together. Jared hands went up the back of her tank top pulling it off with ease. He wrapped his arms around her rolling her onto her back. He stood up pulling his shirt over his head as (Y/N) unhooked her bra tossing it on the floor. Seeing her perfect breasts, he leaned down capturing one her nipples gently between his teeth.

“Oh shit…” she called out pressing herself further against his mouth.

One of her hands slid down his abs and over his hard length stroking him through his shorts. Groaning against her breast she pushed him slightly off of her surprising him. “Get your fine ass naked and in my bed now.”

Jared laughed as he watched her pulled down her shorts and panties down her legs. “Fuck.” He whispered seeing her spread her legs for him giving a full view of how wet she was for him.

He quickly pulled his own shorts and boxers down his cock springing out seemingly drawn to her naturally. (Y/N) licked her lips as he stroked himself a couple of times before she patted her mattress, “Lay down.”

He did watching as she straddled his face her hand slowly running down his long shaft. Wrapping his hands around her thighs he pulled her slick lips down to his mouth lapping at her wetness. “Good god I knew that mouth would be amazing.” She mumbled against his thigh.

Then it was his turn to feel how wonderful her mouth was as she slowly sunk down on his cock. He groaned loudly into mound tightening his grip on her legs. When she came back up with a pop she pushed herself up slightly grinding against his face. “Fuck Jared, just like that.” She moaned caressing his cock with both her hands.

She leaned down taking him in her mouth again spreading her legs a little wider for him. When her hand fondled his sack, he took his mouth off her, “Shit you keep doing that I’m going to come sooner than I want.”

He pulled her back down on his mouth as she sat up bracing herself on his thighs. “God Jared, I’m so close.” He pressed his tongue flat against her clit before sucking it hard feeling her body shaking as she came.

“FUCK JARED!” she cried out lowering her head next to his cock breathing heavily as she placed small kissed along his length.

She got off of him getting on all fours next to him. (Y/N) wiggled her butt as he moved behind her. She moved closer to the headboard pressing her palms flat against it as she stuck her ass further in the air. He ran his hand over one of her cheeks wanting so badly to smack it.

“Go on, I know you want too.” She said looking over her shoulder smiling.

It was in that moment that Jared knew some higher power had created her just for him. There was no way he met her by chance. It was all a greater scheme of the Universe putting them together. He run his hand over her cheek again then drew back smacking it hard. (Y/N) let out a yelp followed by a deep groan. “Again.”

Jared did it a few more times until she was panting, and her ass was red. Taking his length in his hand he ran it along her slit until he slowly pushed inside of her. “Holy fuck Jared.” She cried out as he buried himself deep in her.

He hardly moved letting her get used to him and when she started to move along his cock on her own he straighten up watching her take his cock over and over. (Y/N) let him slip out moving closer to the head board and he followed her grabbing her hips slamming into her.

“Yes!” she yelled as she lifted herself up holding onto the head board.

Jared watching as she slammed herself back on him repeatedly. He held her hips to keep her in place and started meeting her thrusts. He was so close to coming and could feel she was close as well. He reached around her his fingers gliding over her sensitive clit. The sound of their skin smacking against one another filled the entire room followed by her crying out his name as she came.

Feeling her clench all around him had him pulling out of her quickly jerking his own release over her ass. He was panting hard stroking his length until every drop of his release was out of him. (Y/N) laid down on her stomach as he got up grabbing his shirt to clean them both up.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Congratulations, you have ruined all other men for me. You’re officially are stuck with me now.” She joked rolling over to her side to look up at him.

Even though he knew she was joking something about what she said gave him a comfort that he had never felt before. He shrugged tossing his shirt back on the floor, “I’m okay with that if you are.”

Her shining (Y/C/E) eyes stared into his searching to see if he was being serious or not. When a small, bashful smile crossed her face she pulled back the covers crawling under them. “Well then come on Mr. Fix It, I want to sleep before we go test out some more of my furniture upstairs.”

Jared laughed crawling into bed next to her pulling her body against his. “I was being serious, you know.” He whispered against her neck.

“I know. So was I about being stuck with me and the furniture.” Her laughter was the last thing he heard before falling into the best sleep of his life.

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