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buckybarnesisdaddy · 6 months

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Fun Times & Thin Walls

Summary: Peter shows you around the compound and the team find out that Hydra has grown more than anyone thought. Bucky and you take every moment to get reacquainted.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: Mature 18+

Warnings: Sexual jokes, sexual innuendoes, and smut (Not too graphic yet.)

A/N: I combined two chapters so this one was longer. 🥰

*You and Peter are outside*

Peter- Well, I've showed you just about everything...except one thing. I saved the best for last. *Peter had the biggest smile on his face*

*15 Minutes later*

*You and Peter come crashing to the ground and roll. Thankfully the couch broke your fall and Peter landed on his feet.*

Y/N- okay that was AMAZING!!

Peter- See what I mean!?!? And Tony says swinging from the rafters is dangerous. *You and Peter laugh*

Y/N- Thanks Peter.. that was a lot of fun! *You give Peter a hug and you start to walk away*

Peter- Hey want to see something else..

Y/N- Sure! *Peter leads you downstairs into a big room. Lights come on as you walk in. You realize it's Tony's workshop* Wow, this is so cool, but are you sure it's okay for us to be in here. *Peter smiles and leans in closer as he whispers*

Peter- Yeah, it's totally fine.

Tony- Actually it's not *Tony appears between you and Peter. You and Peter jump and yell because you thought you were alone* but I needed to talk to you anyway so whatever, follow me! *Tony rolls away and heads back to the group. You and Peter follow him. You and Peter catch up to Tony and follow him into the conference room.*

Tony- okay now that everyone is here we can start. *You go stand next to Bucky and he notices you have a cut on your arm from where you and Peter fell earlier.*

Bucky- what happened?!? *He holds your arm and looks you over. You look and laugh a little.*

Y/N- oh I didn't even notice! It's nothing! I must have scratched it when me a Peter fell. *You brush off his concern.*

Bucky- fell?? From where? *He raises his voice slightly*

Y/N- The rafters. *You answer, not knowing the chaos you would cause. Everyone expresses their concern*

Bucky- excuse me?!? *He looks you over from head to toe, checking your eyes and fussing over you. You laugh and push him off a little.*

Y/N- We were swinging from the rafters using his Web- *You see Peter motioning you to stop talking, he groans as Tony whips his head around to Peter.*

Tony- you were what?!? Kid how many times have I told you this isn't a jungle gym. One wrong placed web could bring this whole place down. You've lost your web privileges for a week! Hand them over! *Peter sighs and tosses his web shooters over to Tony.*

Peter- you know you've already taken them away 3 times this week and I just keep making more.

Tony- Fine make it two weeks *you laugh to yourself as Bucky continues to look at your cut*

Bucky- this is pretty bad, y/n. W need to get this fixed. *Thor looks over your shoulder.*

Thor- I agree with metal arm. *You turn around and toss Thor an annoyed glance. Someone walks in behind you all*

Clint- ahh she's survived worse. *He stands there, arms crossed and just smiling. You beam and walk over, giving Clint a hug*

Y/N- hey old man! How are you?!? *Clint laughs and hugs you back.*

Clint- Hey! You might want to look at who your boyfriend is before you start calling me an old man.

Bucky- Hey Clint * He smiles and shakes Clint’s hand*

Clint- Got a call from Nat and Tony asking me to come in, so what's up? *Tony clears his throat loudly, everyone glances at him*

Tony- Now that the groundings, punishments, and reunions are done can we get back to the reason I called this meeting, yes? *He looks at everyone and nods* Awesome! *A map pops up with at least 50 red dots all over the world. You sigh and Bucky squeezes your shoulders*

Y/N- Hydra?

Tony- yes and I'd say last night was a pretty good indication they want you back or dead. *Steve moves closer*

Wanda- So we take them all down before they can get Y/N. *She looks at you and you smile*

Thor- Just like before. *Thor agrees*

Sam- except this time we will have two people who know Hydra inside and out. *Steve shakes his head and stands up.*

Steve- No, there is no way y/n is about to go walk into a Hydra camp. The whole point of her being with us is for them to not know where she is. We don't need to parade her around for the world to see. *You glance at Steve and you start to speak when Nat speaks up.*

Nat- But she could be useful Steve- *Nat start to explain and Bucky cuts her off*

Bucky- yeah until they get her, then what?! I'm not kidding when I say she could make what I do look like child's play. *Bucky exclaims*

Peter- but you said for yourself she's fine- *Peter tries to chime in*

Clint- she still needs to stay safe. *Clint says finally*

Y/N- can I speak?!? *You say in outburst and everyone looks at you*

Tony-you have the floor Chai *He motions for you to fall and you roll your eyes as you smile*

Y/N- Look considering what happened last night I think I need to lay low for a while- *The guys interrupt you, directing their words to the ladies and Sam.*

Bucky/Steve/Tony- See, thank you! That's what I'm saying! Voice of reason. *You cut them off and shoot a glare their way.*

Y/N- not forever though. We should let last nights events settle and then I can join in the fight.

Nat/Wanda/Sam- Sounds good! We will need you! Awesome! *Tony rolls closer to Clint*

Tony- and that's why you are here Barton. We will be down one man for awhile so we will need you.

Clint- okay *He nods and grabs his bag.*

Steve- Alright, suit up. We leave in 20 minutes. *Bucky looks at you then looks at the cut on your arm again. You caress his face.*

Y/N- You know I've been through a lot worse. *Bucky knows you are referring to your fall from the plane and he can’t help but glare at you for bringing that up again.*

Bucky- don't remind me *He grumbles and he pulls you in close and kisses you* let's go clean this up.

Y/N- Yes Sir * you say in a mocking tone. You add a little salute for good measure. Bucky smirks before he laughs and throws you over his shoulder, he walks to his room. Steve sees and yells after him down the hall*

Steve- Buck! You don't have time for that! *Bucky just laughs and kicks open his door. Steve sends Peter to find Bucky. As he is walking into Bucky's room he hears you and Bucky in the bathroom.*

-Ouch Bucky!

-oh sorry *Bucky laughs* I thought you were ready

-no!

-does it hurt

-yeah *you laugh* but in a good way! *you kiss him and then gasp.* Whoa that's really deep.

-well, I gotta get in there *Bucky laughs again and you let out a scream. Peter is absolutely traumatized by what he has heard but he knows Steve is serious about the jet leaving any minute. So he knows he has to interrupt.*

Peter- Um guys, *his voice cracks* Steve said it's really time to go. *The bathroom door swings open and Bucky walks out. He smiles and pats his shoulder.*

Bucky- Hey could you finish up in here? Thanks kid *Peter peaks in and looks at you. He realizes Bucky was helping you clean up your cut and he can’t help but exclaim.*

Peter- oh thank God! *You look up at peter*

Y/N- what was that Peter? *You look up at him.*

Peter- oh nothing! *He blushes* Nothing. Okay let's bandage this and you should be good to go. *Peter bandages your arm while blushing the whole time. You watch him and smile as he works.*

Y/N- Thanks Peter you're the best! *You give him a kiss on the cheek* oh by the way, we knew you were outside the door. *you wink at him and walk away. Peter groans and then laughs. You and Peter get to the Jet just in time. As Peter walks on you can see Bucky and Steve teasing him about what just happened in the Bathroom. You yell to Bucky and Steve*

Y/N- Play nice!! *Bucky and Steve look at each other and then look at you*

Bucky/Steve- We always do! *The door to the jet closes and they fly away.*

*For the next 3 months while you are laying low the Avengers go on mission after mission. They take down one Hydra base after another. When they get home you always have a little celebration for them and when you and Bucky are alone you two always have a little special celebration of your own.*

Y/N- Lock the door *you say breathlessly as Bucky rips off your clothes*

Bucky- Too many clothes *Bucky picks you up and takes you to the bed. He kisses you all over and makes his way down your stomach. He takes extra time in between your legs. He is the definition of a tease, it has been 3 weeks since you had seen him last and he wants to savor every moment of this reunion.*

Bucky- Tell me what you want. *he says as he is still pleasuring you with his mouth. Your arch of the bed and moan between breaths*

Y/N- I. want. you! *Everything he is doing feels so good it's hard for you to speak, he smiles. Bucky kisses his way up your body till he gets to your lips*

Bucky- I can do tha- *You cut him off*

Y/N- in the shower. *You smirk against his lips and Bucky looks at you with a devilish grin*

Bucky- as you wish *Bucky picks you up from the bed and takes you to the bathroom. The room was filled with steam in a mater of minutes. The water hadn't been turned on yet. He sets you on the counter while he turns on the water. Bucky comes back and picks you up, carry’s you into the shower. The water was freezing at first but it quickly heated up. He used everything he could think of to pleasure you, his hands, his mouth, himself. Even the detachable shower head and you came every. single. time. You tried to return the favor but he wouldn't let you. Bucky kept saying he wasn't finished with you yet. God you loved this man so much, by the time Bucky was done with you the water was freezing again. You don’t care, you have Bucky and that's all that matters. Bucky helps dry you off and get ready for bed. And you need the help, your legs are so shaky you can hardly stand.*

*Bucky has a soft side that very few people know about but when you two are alone he always lets his guard down for you. You are laying in bed and Bucky has his arms around your waist*

Bucky- I just wish we could end all the fighting. I know I am no longer the Winter Soldier but sometimes when I fight I can feel him trying to break free. *Bucky stops talking, you turn over to look at him and even in the dark you can tell he is crying. You snuggle into his chest and run your hands over his back just the way he likes.*

Y/N- Bucky I understand and it's okay. I feel the same way about Odette. We can get through this together. *you look up and kiss Bucky* You are no longer the Winter Soldier, He is gone, just keep reminding yourself of that.

Bucky- Well, *he gives you another devilish grin* he's not completely gone. *He smirks and rolls over on top of you, kissing you. He looks at you with a killer smirk as he grinds a little against you.* Ready to Comply, Soldier? *You giggle and even though you start to ache for him at the sound of his voice and that phrase you know you both needed to sleep*

Y/N- I just complied for the last 2 hours, so let's just sleep. *Bucky laughs and leans in to kiss you but stops and gets very serious for a moment*

Bucky- I love you so much, Y/N. I don't know what I would do without you. *He brushes his thumb across your lips.*

Y/N- I love you too, Bucky. *He kisses you and then settles back down behind you. You both snuggle in and go to sleep*

*The next morning you are so sore. Bucky teases you about it before he picks you up and carries you downstairs to get breakfast. He puts you down right outside the kitchen door and you hear Tony talking to Sam, Steve, and Nat.*

Tony- I knew I should have splurged for the sound proofing in every room. *He rubs his temples*

Sam- For real man, *Sam groans* like damn we get it you're really into each other but I don't need to know when you're actually into each other. *Nat gasps and wacks his arm.*

Nat- Eww Sam, we knew what you meant you didn't have to- *Sam turns on Nat*

Sam- oh don't even get me started on you two *Sam points to Nat and Steve.* Steve's all "I can do this all day", ya nasty! *Nat rolls her eyes and Steve blushes. Tony groans as he looks up to the sky*

Tony- I just hope Peter and Morgan were asleep by the time they started- god, the nightmares those kid would have. *Peter shouts from the other room*

Peter- I wasn't! And I wouldn't call them nightmares. *you and Bucky look at each other and try not to laugh. He motions to you to head back upstairs and you shake you head. You walk right into the kitchen with no shame*

Y/N- Hey guys! How did everyone sleep last night? *you grab an apple and walk towards Bucky* I know I was exhausted and super sore *You give Bucky a love tap on his butt and a wink as you walk back out of the room. Bucky lightly laughs and turns to look at you and you leave. He then looks at everyone*

Bucky- we will keep it down next time. *He starts to leave the room when Tony calls after him*

Tony- that's all I ask, think of the children Barnes, the children! *Peter shouts from the other room again*

Peter- This child will sleep with earplugs so go crazy. *Everyone busts out laughing, Tony rolls his eyes. Bucky just shrugs.*

Tag list: @cadencejames87 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @jessieasher1616 @janineb86 @cjand10 @anastasiamariebarnes @slytherinqueen4life @theinheriteddutchess

#bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #daddy #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #bucky barns x reader #hydra cap #chris evans #the avengers #domestic fluff

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phoebosacerales · 5 months

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Are there any other astrology books besides the ones you mention in your master list that you would recommend to read?

Oh, I should make a list, thank you for asking. I'll first give you these few ones that I use the most, but I'll try to update it regularly, I have many more recommendations than this. If anyone thinks it's hard to find a good version of any of these you can talk to me through chat and I can send you a link ;)

Beginner's books:

On the heavenly spheres/Tratado das Esferas by Helena Avelar and Luis Ribeiro is the ultimate beginner book. It covers a bit of everything, except predictive techniques. The authors are also historians who have great academic research on astrology. You should definitely take a look at the Astra Project website and follow their youtube channel. In fact, I met Luis Ribeiro two weeks ago at a conference at my university (coincidentally my university is the only one in Brazil that has a research group that brings together researchers in astrology, called Academia Celeste), where he gave a mini-course and I was impressed above all by his rare way of valuing astrology as an object of investigation, emphasizing the history of its techniques as well, and the ease with which he can teach about its epistemological debates.

Deborah Houlding's Houses: Temples of the sky is the best book on the subject of houses. I believe you have to go to a book that's specific about houses, because the topic really deserves the depth and it's probably the most important thing to understand in astrology.

Demetra George's Ancient Astrology in Theory and Practice volumes I and II. I haven't read them yet, but it's on my bucket list.

Predictive techniques:

The Seven Stars Astrology blog was actually my first source on this subject, it's easy but very well researched and it was very important for me to find. The articles do a pretty good job at gathering the hellenistic sources and explaining what's important to understand about them, it's the best to have someone to hold your hand through things before you dive into the primary sources.

Astrología Hermética by Eduardo Gramaglia. I'm not sure if there's an english translation of this one, it's one of the best introductory books too, complete and concise.

Astrologia Gallica book 23 by Jean-Baptiste Morin, which is about Revolutions. I always go back to chapter 18 as recommended by my teachers, where he gives universal rules for solar returns that you can adopt.

Ancient sources (from I to IV AD):

Marcus Manilius' Astronomica is just beautiful on a lot of points, you should go to it for the poetry, just to have the delight. And his poetry also gives the best and concise insights on the fixed stars and the signs.

Dorotheus of Sidon's Carmen Astrologicum is probably the first most technical book of the ancients that you should go to. It's the most influential and easiest to find. Dorotheus was a contemporary of Manilius, but the versions we have of his book are influenced by later Arabic translations.

Ptolemy's Tetrabiblos. Even though astrologers are right to be ingrates to daddy Ptolemy we should still read him.

Vettius Valens' Anthologies is one I've never really stopped to read, but I believe is important. Sometimes I go there to specific chapters to see what he has to say about a specific subject and it's always interesting.

Firmicus Maternus' Mathesis is a bummer of a book, his delineations are super dramatic, but it's great to read from the beginning to understand Firmicus' logic and you'll be able to get how he thinks and predict what he's going to say next, and this is a testament to how good of a teacher he probably was.

On Mundane Astrology:

The Meio do Céu newsletter is my first and main source. The writer Ísis is one of my teachers. I participate in her workshops, where we contribute collectively to the predictions and learn a lot. It's in portuguese, but it's pretty understandable with the translation option on your browser. It's free with special editions for paying subscribers. I recommend starting with the edition 72 and then edition 101 on the Solar Eclipse in Aries.

Bonatti on Mundane Astrology, by Benjamin Dykes. This is one of our sources with Ísis on the workshops, I've been trying to read it and I'm far enough to say it's a great book.

On philosophy, history, important topics etc:

The Daimon in Hellenistic Astrology: Origins and Influence, by Dorian Greenbaum. This is one of my favorites and I can't recommend it enough, because very few astrologers take much time to understand before talking about the daimon. And it's impossible for you to avoid the daimon in your practice, because it is crucial and predominant in everything in Hellenistic astrology.

On Horary:

William Lilly's Christian Astrology. There's a reason we all go back to him, it's the fact that is such a didactical book, you can always use it as an instruction manual basically. He gives instructions on how to approach any kind of question and gives so many examples, it's a hit.

On the fixed stars:

The Constellations of Words website is still the easiest source for learning about fixed stars, but here are their most cited books:

Ptolemy's Tetrabiblos book I chapter 9-11, of course, because he's the earliest source and it's important to see the difference between how the hellenistics called and understood the fixed stars and how things changed after the arabics.

Vivian E. Robson's The Fixed Stars and Constellations in Astrology (XX AD) is a must have. It's another one that's strictly astrological and plus gives a method on how to interpret fixed stars, though you don't need to follow it necessarily.

Marcus Manilius' Astronomica book 5. I always make sure to read attentively Manilius' poetry about the constellation I'm researching. It's always incredibly useful, never disappointing.

William Tyler Olcott's Star Lore: Myths, Legends and Facts (XIX AD). This is a great one to get a lot of the different stories and histories of the stars. It really helps you to understand the constellations in depth.

#recommendations

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skarlette1 · 6 months

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Wishful Wand: Part Three (NEW)

–Part Three of Wishful Wand

The sun was setting by the time I awoke from my post-orgasmic nap.

I’d had the most bizarre dream that I had been transported to Quimtonian prison dimension. Some criminal from Quimton’s past had attempted to force me to help her with an escape attempt. Sammie’s wand hadn’t given me a magic vision of Al-Phae, but definitely a really weird dream.

Unless …

I slowly pulled the Wand from between my sticky thighs. I’d never learned to read the Quimtonian language, but the symbols carved into the length of it certainly resembled glyphs I’d seen in Captain Alpha’s Quimtonian Refuge. If this was actually a Quimtonian artifact, then it very well could have transported my mind to the Shade Circumference. My dream-like encounter with Commissar Zehd might also be real. She could have used her erotic energy powers to break me down and give me three important commands: Keep her secret, help Sammie revive U4ia, and lure Captain Alpha into her trap.

Just remembering the commands she had given me sent a thrill through my body. The Wand twitched again toward my pussy, but I retained enough self-control to keep it at my side. Whatever hold Zehd had over my mind in the Shade couldn’t survive out here in the light of Earth’s yellow sun. Remembering the commands excited me for good reason. It meant I knew what Zehd was planning and how she wanted me to help achieve it. All I had to do to foil her evil plan was simply do the opposite of whatever she commanded.

The first command was “don’t tell anyone about Zehd and her plan.” As a reporter, telling people important things was my job. This would be an easy command to disobey. Straightening my clothes and slipping my shoes on, I stashed the Wand in my purse. Walking down the hall, I started composing the news article I would write to expose every one of Zehd’s secrets to the world.

Stepping into the elevator, I pushed the button for the floor with Sammie Sims’ workshop. If I could subvert Zehd’s “commands,” I could certainly help Sammie resist the brainwashing, too. Together we could put an end to any chance that the Quimtonian criminal could make her way to Earth.

Before reaching the workshop, the door opened and Platinum Panther entered the elevator. She wore a shiny jumpsuit instead of her armor, but her holographic face completely concealed her true features. “Ms. Zane, I didn’t schedule a press conference today. Is everything okay?”

This was the perfect opportunity to tell her about Zehd’s plan. After Captain Alpha, Platinum Panther was one of the most powerful superheroines in the Libido League. If anyone could stop the Quimtonian criminal, here she was!

I opened my mouth to speak. “Panther, there’s a—eerggghhh.” I spluttered as my throat, jaw, and tongue all cramped up.

Panther took my shoulder. “Ms. Zane, are you okay?”

My face burned hot with shame. Here I was, a reporter that could barely speak! “Yes, I’m sorry. Just forgot what I was saying mid-sentence.” My jaw relaxed. Making the excuse flooded my body with relief and pleasure.

Why hadn’t I told her about Zehd? If Platinum Panther knew there were a Quimtonian criminal trying to manifest on Earth, she’d stop at nothing to foil her plan.

That was the exact problem, I realized. If Platinum Panther were completely focused on the threat of Commissar Zehd, who would protect Skarlette City from other supervillains? I’d nearly distracted the city’s greatest protector! That was a close call.

Platinum Panther offered a warm smile. “Happens to the best of us, Ms. Zane.”

The elevator stopped on Sammie’s floor and we both tried to get out at once. “Were you going to see Sammie Sims, Panther?”

“Yes, I noticed some power fluctuations on this floor and want to see what trouble she’s gotten herself into this time.”

If Platinum Panther investigated Sammie’s workshop, she’d learn about the plan to use U4ia’s body as a host for Zehd’s mind! She’d be completely distracted from protecting the city. “I have an interview scheduled with Ms. Sims right now, and I’m on a tight deadline. I’ll tell Sammie to contact you when we’re done the interview.”

Platinum Panther narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I didn’t realize Sammie Sims was talking to the press now.”

I had to think on my feet. “I contacted her. I’m putting together a piece on the support personnel who work behind the scenes to help heroes do their jobs. Police dispatchers. Ambulance drivers. Fire engine mechanics. That sort of thing.” I couldn’t tell if she was buying it. “Unless you think that Ms. Sims isn’t worthy of being included because she has no powers?”

She raised her eyebrows at the implication of bias against those without superpowers. “No. Not at all. Sammie does a great job. Talk to her as much as you want, Ms. Zane. Just tell her to call me when you’re done.” She stepped back and let me pass.

With a few little lies and the power of the press, I’d done what very few supervillains had managed: Fended off Platinum Panther! As the elevator doors closed, a wave of pleasure rippled through my body. I sagged against the wall, my knees too weak to support me. Closing my eyes, I relished how good it felt to tell no one about Commissar Zehd and her plans.

When I finally regained my composure, I headed to Sammie’s workshop.

--To Be Concluded (in a week or so)...

(I know I said it would be concluded this time, but the story has just kept expanding. Hope you're enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing!)

---

Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and request something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peek into the depths of my longer fiction?

#skarletteone #mind control #flash fiction #superhero

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space-mermaid-writing · 2 years

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The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 16

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's Note: When I wrote this chapter, I was thinking about throwing in some Stephen/Reader for jealousy, but later discard the idea. Stephen is way better as a friend. Especially to Loki. Even if he doesn't know it yet. Beta by @zaria-04

Chapter 16: Dinner and wine with the sorcerer

It's early in the evening when you leave your room in the tower and head for the lobby on the first floor. You and Stephen have finally found a mutually available spot in your schedules for your agreed-upon dinner. Admittedly, he was the more difficult factor in this. You're quite flexible in your free time.

In the elevator, you run into Tony. He looks tired, his Metallica shirt is wrinkled and full of oil stains. He greets you wordlessly with a brief nod, which alone is very unusual for him.

"Are you okay?" you ask him. "You look like you haven't gotten much sleep the last few days."

He gives you a suspicious look. "Depends on who's asking. Did Pepper set you up on me?"

"No, I was just being polite," you wave it off. "I can shut up, though, if you don't feel like talking."

Tony sighs and pinches his nose. "I may have lost track of time in the workshop yesterday. Pepper's at a conference in Europe for a few days and asked me to take care of some stuff at the office. Why are nights so short when you're productive?" He tinkered all night and now takes care of a multi-billion dollar company on the side. You guess geniuses just have a different kind of lifestyle.

"If I wanted to let you know I won't be around for a few days, will you make a mental note of that, or should I come back to you for it later when you're not dead on your feet?"

The elevator opens and Tony gets off. It's not the floor you want to go to, but you follow him anyway to continue your conversation. "It's alright, I have Jarvis to remind me. What are you up to?" Tony asks you.

"Witch stuff," you wink.

"My cue to not ask further, I suppose."

He's probably right about that. "When I'm back I'd like to talk to you about my contract," you bring up another topic you wanted to discuss with him. "I mean, Loki is officially going on missions now and there have been no more incidents. Maybe we should talk about new goals. I'm not sure I have anything else to contribute."

Tony stops and looks at you. "I strongly hope that doesn't mean you want to leave us." You shake your head. You don't. "Speaking of which, what did you do to tame him?"

"I have my ways," you reply evasively. Actually, you have no idea what you did. You just didn't treat him like a criminal but a normal person. It probably helped that you like each other, but that hadn't been intentional. Maybe just a byproduct of you two spending so much time together.

"Well, whatever it is: don't stop it," Tony instructs you.

Sure, that you can do. You decide to take advantage of Tony's good mood a little further. "Loki should have more access to the outside world. I don't think he needs to be locked up in the tower anymore."

"Consider it approved. We'll talk about the details when you're back."

You nod and say goodbye. Tony continues toward his, more like Pepper's, office while you walk back to the elevators.

That was one thing done. Now you just have to tell Loki that you won't be here for the rest of the week. Originally, you had considered taking him with you, but Loki told you he was going to meet his mother. Thor will take him to her. You take it as a good sign that he has contact with his family and Asgard. Things have really all turned out very well.

Being in a great mood you make your way to Stephen. You take the subway to the Sanctum Sanctorum. Bleeker Street is not far from the tower – almost just straight south some blocks – but you don't feel like walking. And Stephen doesn't like opening portals for everyone all the time. "I'm not a cab company," is his usual statement. And you can understand. It's different when he sends people home through it. "Then they're no longer interrupting my work."

Stephen can be really charming – if he wants to be.

You've only known him after he became the Sorcerer Supreme. From what you've heard from others – Stephen himself doesn't talk much about it – when he was a surgeon, dinner with him used to be a spectacle: expensive clothes, exclusive restaurant. It was all about maintaining a certain image.

Today, dinner and wine means sitting together in one of the more comfortable rooms of the Sanctum. The fireplace is lit up and you have various take out boxes spread out on the small table between the couches. At least the wine is of high quality – Stephen insists on that – and is served in proper glasses.

You’ve moved on the floor between the table and the couch, legs casually stretched out toward the fire, barefoot. Stephen hovers cross-legged a feet in the air, his posture relaxed as well.

"... so we have to assume that what we understand by magic these days is something different from what is described in the ancient books. It explains why there are spells that no one can implement today, even though there is a detailed record of them," Stephen finishes his explanation.

You roll your eyes and poke the box of Phad Thai with your plastic fork. "Okay, I get your point. Still don't think it's right to separate the different sources of magic so strongly just because we don't understand their connection or variations."

"From a science point of view it is." Stephen has that lecturing tone in his voice that you don’t like. The one that shows he is used to being right.

"Don't get me started with your science talk! You guys always think you're the peak of humanity with your knowledge. When I was your age, science said that magic flows in the veins and that you can transfer the ability if you drink witches blood. There were whole essays and tutorials about it."

The Cloak of Levitation, shifting every so often between Stephen's shoulders and the unoccupied seat on the sofa, pours you more wine and you thank it with a nod.

"When you were my age, we had only sixteen states and you weren't even allowed to vote. So, don't play your senior citizen card on me, woman."

"Shut up, young man, and show your seniors some respect!" You laugh and take a sip of the wine. This kind of banter is not unusual for the two of you. The teasing is not serious, you have too much respect for each other. At least, you suspect Stephen is capable of something like respect. Sometimes you're not so sure about it.

You put down your Phad Thai box and stretch. "Next question: what do you think about the theory that electricity is some kind of magic?"

It's a highly debated theory that often divides minds.

"Oh, that's actually quite interesting. I've read a few papers on it. There are good arguments for it." As he speaks, Stephen points his fork in the air, as if to punctuate his words. "The main argument against it is that the majority of people would have to be considered magic users."

"That's true," you nod, "although there is a difference in the terms magic user and magic adept. And besides, people need devices, foreign components, to use electricity. They never get it from their own body. On the contrary, it is better if the body does not come in contact with it ever."

"But there are enough kinds of magic that need similar kinds of components," Stephen interjects, "For example, magic is stored in artifacts, like electricity in a battery."

"True." You think about this for a moment as another thought occurs to you. "Follow-up question: is a radioactive piece of uranium a cursed item?"

Stephen nods affirmatively. "Absolutely! But not in the magical sense."

You couldn't agree more. Both are similarly lethal.

"Imagine if we told Tony he was some kind of Tech Mage," you jump back to the electricity magic discussion, laughing at the thought. "Not sure if he would love it or hate it."

Stephen's expression clearly says he would not be pleased if Tony Stark suddenly had magical abilities as well. Even if only by a technicality. He clashed with the trillionaire often enough while they have separate domains.

You wonder what Loki would think about the topic. You’re sure he has an interesting take on these things, too.

It's very late when you arrive back at your room in the tower. Stephen has kindly opened a portal for you after all. You two had emptied another bottle of wine and you are glad that you have made your way home without stumbling.

On your nightstand you have already prepared a glass with a potion against hangover. It's a well-tried recipe that you got from your sister and that works wonders. Unfortunately, it tastes a bit spongy. Nevertheless, you empty it in one go and then go to bed so that it can take effect while you sleep.

The next morning starts earlier than you'd like. Just because you don't have a hangover doesn't mean missing hours of sleep will make up for it. You roll out of bed and move wearily to the bathroom. You're glad you took the day off, because there's nothing else for you to do today but make a few preparations, maybe process a few more orders. You want to get everything done before you head out.

You're meeting your family for a rare event: every one hundred years, a lunar convergence takes place where the moons of three planets line up. It's a special event, with a high magical power. Basically, it is like the introduction to a new century. Many witches and other magically gifted people gather for it. It is a spectacular event every time, and you are happy to be able to attend it with your siblings.

It occurs to you that you haven’t told Loki yet that you won't be around for a few days. Even if he has his own plans with his mother, you don't want him to wait in vain for you on the other days.

So you pack up everything you need from your room, put the bag by the portal door of the walk-in closet, and then make your way to the suite.

Loki is sitting on the couch, reading. When he hears your footsteps, he looks up, his lips pressed tightly together. He puts his book aside and stands up to meet you.

"Hey Loki, how are you do-…"

Gruffly, he interrupts you with a wave of his hand. You frown as you notice his stony expression.

"Hypocrite!" he accuses you.

Astonished, you look at him, having no idea what has triggered this rage in him. "What?"

He takes a step closer to you and then another. It's a threatening gesture and the way your body reacts is mind boggling. Your muscles clench and your heart beat becomes rapid. It's like your body is aware of a danger lurking but your mind is still unaware - though to be fair this is one of the cons of being with Loki: often enough it's hard to tell what is on his mind.

"You said you don't want me to toy with you, yet you play your little, wicked games with me."

"I can’t follow you, Loki. I don't play games," you try to reason. Your thoughts are racing, trying to understand what he means.

"Oh, so you didn't seduce me to tame me?" he hisses. "Was it all just a trick so I wouldn't cause you problems? After all, it's your job to keep me under control."

Open-mouthed, you stare at him, too surprised by the accusation. His words remind you of your conversation with Tony yesterday. Had Loki overheard? You were in an open hallway of the tower, anyone could have heard you. But the words are taken out of context. That's not what happened. Not what you meant.

Loki takes your affected silence as an admission of guilt. "Was it fun?" he asks you, his voice poisoned to mask the pain. "I admit, you fooled me. Not many are able to do that."

Loki’s right – it's your job to make sure he stays in line. But that's not what your conversation with Tony was meant to be. None of this had been planned. Your feelings hadn't been planned. Could you build any kind of relationship on something like that?

Your head is spinning but the answer is simple: No. The imbalance between you two is too great. It had to lead to trouble. This is your mistake, and you need to fix it.

"You are right," you murmur, speaking more to yourself than to Loki. "This is wrong." You turn to do what you should have done long ago. Without another word you leave and as you do so, you're so wrapped up in your own head that you don't even register that Loki remains rooted to the spot.

He looks after you, agonized.

You run straight into Tony's office, paying no attention to the secretary who jumps up to stop you but isn't fast enough. Luckily, it's really Tony sitting in that office, not Pepper. And luckily, he's not in an important meeting.

His head shoots up as you yank open the door and rush in, upset.

"I quit!"

Placing both palms on the desk, he rises from his seat. "What did Loki do? Do I need to kill him? Because I tell you, I just started to like him a little. But I won't hesitate if necessary."

His words remind you this is solely on you. Loki didn't do anything wrong, even though your performance right now probably gives a different impression.

You take a deep breath.

"No I…" You try to think of the right words and start walking small circles in front of the table. You can't sit still, the movement helping you think. "I want to keep doing the job, but I don't want to get paid for it anymore. What you've given me in money so far is more than I need anyway. It's never been about that for me. This may sound strange, but somehow Loki has become a friend and it's wrong to be with him and get paid for it."

Tony looks at you and the furrow on his forehead disappears. "That's what this is about? Jesus, this could have been a simple phone call. You shouldn't scare a man my age like that. I could have a heart attack." He exhales relieved. "Sit down, I'll fix you a drink."

Just slowly, you settle into the seat in front of the table. Your hands are still too nervous and you knead your fingers together. The conversation with Loki has gotten to you and your thoughts are still hanging on his words.

You don't register Tony again until he sets a glass of amber liquid down in front of you. He remains leaning against the table, a drink of his own in his hand. "If that's your choice, I have no objection. You're welcome to work for free. But you should at least think about it. I also have friends who only like me for my money."

"They are no friends, Tony."

"Ouch." He puts his hand over his heart, as if you've hit him personally. But his expression is not truly offended. Instead, he seems thoughtful, as if trying to properly assess the situation. "So… friends? Is that how you kids call it nowadays? Because let me tell you, when I was young and someone said they were just friends, then they were most certainly not just friends.”

Sighing, you finally reach for your glass and sip it, because Tony’s words hit it right on the mark. "It's complicated," you mutter.

"Of course it is. He's Loki and you're a witch."

"Well observed, Sherlock," you snort in amusement. Then something occurs to you that you hadn't considered before. "If it's not too much to ask, I'd like to keep my room here in the tower."

"If you'll keep doing the same work for free, I'll even put a new doormat on it."

"Thanks, Tony."

"Anytime, Sabrina."

Your eyes meet and Tony smiles at you. A gesture you return. He's a good man, surprisingly helpful. You're glad to have met him.

"You know, I've never watched that show," you admit as he uses that nickname again.

Tony pushes himself off the table and walks around it to his chair. "You're fired," he simply says.

"You can't fire me. I don't work here anymore."

He grins widely. "Shit, she found a loophole."

You're feeling a little better. A weight has been lifted off your shoulders, you finally don't have to feel guilty about Loki anymore. After your meeting with your family, you will talk to him and explain it. Then he will see that you care about him and not about the job.

–-––––––––––––––––––––––

Ah yes, miscommunication at its finest!

Witchling Tag List: @lokisgoodgirl @lokixryss @itsybitchylittlewitchy @yokshi-unbeliebubble @fictional-hooman @elennair @all-envy-suyu @purplekitten30 @elisadmaggiore @nothing2113 @baebeepeach @ceo-of-stfu @moonlightreader649 @ronipiamka @fluffybunnyu @ninjarose23 @ozymdias @huntress-artemiss @thedistractedagglomeration @rosaline-black @sofi786 @moonlightreader649 @paetonnn @eldriidd @r4inlov3r @eleniblue @eleniblue @maeisonline @marvel-love24 @sinsandguilt @kalinaselennespeaks @ohtellmelove @eleniblue @msrawog @hyojin-2579

#loki x y/n #Loki x reader #loki layfeyson x you #loki laufesyon x reader #Loki x you #imagine loki #the witchling and the god #imagine marvel #mcu prompt #loki odison x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #loki fanfction #slow burn #loki odinson #loki laufeyson

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orelsemystery · 3 months

Text

Me & Academia & Publishing & Pittsburgh

I’ve just posted the first three chapters of Or Else. I wrote this yesterday in anticipation.

I’m sitting in Mellon Park, in the shade of a big tree, drafting a blog post for tomorrow. Off to my right, I can see the bell tower of East Liberty Presbyterian and the white dome that I’ve always assumed is an athletic facility that either belongs to the park on the other side of Fifth or to the Ellis School for Girls, I’ve never been sure which. In some summer in the late 2000s or early 2010s, I used to cross this park on my way back from Shadyside to the house in Point Breeze where I was staying with family friends. I would stop and sit on a bench and read that week’s edition of City Paper. Some other summer, I lay on the hill in the sun and read P.N. Furbank’s biography of E.M. Forster. Now I am here, again, in 2024, because I chose to be.

Academia insists that you move wherever the job takes you, and since traditional tenure-track (i.e., stable and well-paying) jobs are so horribly hard to get these days, you feel guilty if you’re not grateful for whatever you get, no matter how bad a fit the location is. Or so my friends say. I didn’t get a tenure-track job after getting my PhD in English. I don’t have any real idea how much that was my own fault: whether it was because I stubbornly chose to do an unconventional project; whether I didn’t try hard enough to legitimize my project in my job documents; whether I hadn’t published enough. Maybe I hadn’t worked hard enough. Maybe I wasn’t that strong of a scholar. Or maybe there were just so few jobs to begin with that the academic job market is in large part simply a crapshoot, and I didn’t win.

It’s possible I just didn’t stick it out long enough. I don’t know. But I suspect that when all is said and done, the underlying reasons I am here and not there can be boiled down to two things: (1) I want to make my own choices about what my work looks like and (2) I want to be happy in my own life.

So after I finished my Ph.D., I moved back to Pittsburgh. I love the city—it’s where I went to college, and I’ve missed it ever since leaving—and there are enough schools here I figured I could at least adjunct somewhere. I’m actually getting to teach literature right now, which I love doing and am very grateful for. But I am on no ladders to academic glory.

For the last couple years, however, I’ve been clinging to another possible means of professional success: I could publish the novel I wrote as part of my dissertation. Then I’d be impressive in another way. I queried a number of literary agents, at an inadvisably slow pace, shooting off emails when I could stand the accompanying anxiety. It felt clear, though, that what I was going to need to do to get anywhere serious was network, some of which (workshops, conferences) costs money. And I hate networking and I hate paying money for someone to give my work a chance. I am so cognizant of how many people can’t afford that, and how unfair the whole system can be.

And anyway…I didn’t really want to make my work more marketable. Which is inevitable if you’re going to try and market it.

So I made a different choice, again. To put the novel, the project, on a website of my own. I’m lucky and I am privileged to be able to make this choice—I have a job, for now, that pays enough. I have a safety net in my family and friends. I have a cat but not kids; I have rent but not a mortgage. I have an advanced degree. I can afford to not pin any financial hopes on writing.

Yet it’s hard not to feel like a whole litany of well-meaning teachers and colleagues from over the years are going to be disappointed in me for doing it this way. Or just…disinterested. People who would perk up their ears at a commercially published novel will simply pass by one posted online for free—even if they have good politics generally around capitalism and professionalization. There was only one right answer to the head of my undergraduate drama school’s question, “What are you working on?” and it always involved something that would look good on your resume (and the school’s promotional materials).

Oh well! Here I am! Sorry, everyone: I love amateurism. I love art and writing that people do because they want to. I love fanfiction. I love community theatre. I love zines, I love high school marching bands, I love queer craft fairs. I love adults who rediscover Shrinky-Dinks and polymer clay and make potholders for their friends. I love local book clubs and writing communities on Discord. I love Pittsburgh—I think Pittsburgh’s whole vibe is slightly wonky DIY: faded old signs painted on brick buildings, tree roots pushing up through sidewalks, folding chairs saving parking spots, memories of the Beehive and Garfield’s Nightmare and whatever happened to that one ice cream place that became an illegal banking cooperative or something? Or Else is set in Pittsburgh, at a made-up university I’ve shoved next to Pitt and Carnegie Mellon (who says there’s not room in Oakland), and it’s about people who sort of…make their own worlds, for better or worse, who live one foot in the kind of scrappy imaginary I find so possible in this city. And I am glad to be here, in Mellon Park, writing this, watching a dog with the spindliest legs I have ever seen in my life walking past (sorry Juno), preparing to launch my big little project into the world.

Later update: After I finished writing this post, I walked around the garden in Mellon Park. I was appreciating the Pittsburgh hallmarks I’d just been writing about—bumpy bricks, crumbling walls, etc., and then I tripped on an uneven sidewalk and skinned my knee. I will take this as a reminder that choosing one’s own road comes with obstacles of its own. I am sticking some metaphorical antiseptic into my metaphorical knapsack as I venture down the mysterious path through the woods.

<3 Miranda

#or else blog post #queer lit #queer author #writeblr #writers on tumblr #mystery novel #academia #dark academia #indie novel #or else #or else mystery

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babymetaldoll · 4 years

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Stargazing (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: No, but I needed some hardcore fluff

Summary: The team is “forced” to go camping, and Spencer finally decides to make “his move” on Reader.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/ Reader

Category: Hardcore fluff

Warnings: Zero

Word count: 3,2K

Masterlist

It was the first time the BAU didn't argue Strauss's decision. She had walked into the conference room and explained to the team that the FBI had decided each department had to do a workshop related to teamwork and trust.

- "You will spend this weekend camping together. You will be part of a Team-Building Training Workshop"- Strauss wasn't excited about the idea of her best team wasting a whole weekend. But she was glad her department didn't have to do the activity. She hated camping.

- "Are you telling me we have to spend our weekend in sleeping bags, singing kumbaya?"- Rossi raised an eyebrow and looked at Erin, and she didn't move a muscle- "I'm out."

- "David, I'm not asking you if you want to do it. The whole team has to be part of this activity, that includes you."

- "Come on, Rossi,"- Prentiss smiled and tried to cheer him up- "It will be a nice change from catching serial killers for a weekend.

- "Really, Emily?"- Rossi crossed his arms on his chest and looked at Reid- "Hey, kid. How many dead bodies are found each year in the woods in the country?"

- "Over 2.543 last year,"- Spencer answered. And didn't stop talking, of course- "We can not be sure they were all serial killer related cases. The most common ways to die in the woods are drowning, car accident, and suicide."

- "Suicide it is."- David whispered. He knew it was going to be a long weekend.

Even when he wasn't a person who loved camping and outdoor activities, Spencer was excited to spend the weekend with the team, especially with (Y/N). His teammate, best friend, and secret crush. Ok, it wasn't really a secret.

Of course, everybody knew about Spencer's feelings. He never successfully hid them from the team. You didn't need to be a profiler to notice each time (Y/N) walked into a room, Reid's eyes would follow her, and his cheeks blushed. When they sat together in the jet, Spencer would always be too self-aware of his own movements. He would try not to move, especially when she had fallen asleep, resting her head on his shoulder. And when they were working on a case together, he would always cover her on the field, and he would make sure she was safe, even when the unsub was already caught.

He loved her. Even a blind man could see. Except for (Y/N), of course. Because according to her own words: "There's no way Spencer Reid is in love with me. He would never look at me that way. He is perfect, and I'm a mess. He deserves the perfect genius girl."

- "Ok, Romeo, this weekend is the perfect opportunity for you to make your move"- Derek and Reid were alone in the SUV on their way to the retreat.

- "Sure. Because there's no better time to make a fool out of myself than in front of all my friends in the middle of nowhere."

- "What's with the attitude, pretty Ricky? Relax"- Morgan frowned and put on some music, singing along for a moment. Reid looked at him and raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

- "Ok man, picture this: you, your pretty lady, in the middle of the night, gazing at the stars together, alone in the middle of the forest. The full moon is the only light."

- "Who are you? since when are you a romance expert?"

- "Hey! I can be romantic!"

- "I've seen you get girls only by raising an eyebrow"- Reid argued, and he was right. It had happened once, but that was another completely different story.

- "What I'm trying to tell you is that you have the perfect chance to tell her how you feel during this trip"- Spencer was about to start debating that idea when Derek continued.

- "And stop saying she has no feeling for you!"

Reid bit his tongue and looked at the road. Neither of them said a word for the next couple of minutes. Until Spencer whispered

- "But she doesn't"

- "She does!!"- Derek nearly yelled

- "Why are you so sure?!"

- "Because she told Penelope she is in love with you!!"

The silence in the car was as intense as the red in Spencer's cheeks. Derek knew he shouldn't have said that, but he was tired of seeing his best friend's sad eyes each time he stared at (Y/N). Someone had to do something, and he knew neither of them would make the first move.

- "Are you sure?"- Reid's mouth was hanging open- "I mean, maybe she was joking."

- "No, she was honest. So please, this weekend, make your freaking move."

How could Spencer ever make his move? He had no idea. He didn't even have a "move"! But something inside of him felt a little more confident now.

That didn't show on the outside at all, 'cos during the whole day, he was more clumsy than ever. He dropped his coffee. He failed the first two attempts to set up his tent and nearly fell carrying logs for the fire.

He wanted to dig a hole and hid.

But (Y/N) didn't notice any of that. Not because she didn't pay attention, but because she was oblivious to any of those things. She just couldn't stop staring: He was wearing jeans. Spencer Walter Reid was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. (Y/N) thought she was going to have a heart attack when he got out of the car.

Sure, yes, she had seen him outside work in a more casual outfit, but nothing prepared her for Spencer's camping clothing. It suited him too well for his own good.

- "Hello? Anybody there?"- Prentiss waved at (Y/N). She and JJ stood in front of her, trying to catch her attention.

- "Jesus! you look like a schoolgirl today!"- JJ teased her, laughing- "Can you be more obvious?"

- "What are you talking about?"- (Y/N) tried to look all innocent and continued setting the logs for the campfire.

- "If Spencer wasn't so clueless about your feelings, I swear you two would be already married,"- Emily joked and helped (Y/N) with the logs. The young SSA just shook her head and tried to keep her eyes from Reid for as long as she could. She successfully did it for five minutes. That day's record.

- "(Y/N), hey"- he stood by her side, and she quickly stood up.

- "Hey, how are you doing?"

- "Good... you?"- she just nodded and smiled. She really was acting like a schoolgirl in front of Spencer- "Great... hey, I thought maybe tonight you would like to do some stargazing with me..."- Emily and JJ heard him and nearly squealed. They tried to look away, but it was impossible. They needed to know what was happening. Where was García? she was going to be so mad she missed that.

- "Yeah! I'm sure tonight we can see way more stars than on your building's roof like last time."

(Y/N) answered, smiling, thinking there was nothing more romantic than being underneath a starry sky, listening to Spencer talking about constellations.

- "Ok, kids,"- Rossi's voice stepping out of his huge camper interrupted them and forced everybody to turn around- "Let's do this trust thing we are forced to do before it's lunchtime. Maybe we can manage to go home early."

Of course, they weren't. The whole team had to work as a unit to fulfill a series of activities an expert team the FBI had hired forced them to do. Aaron thought it was unnecessary, considering they worked on the field together, and they trusted each other with their lives all the time. But he was also sure his team needed a break, and everybody could use some fresh air.

- "Great work, team"- Hotch hugged everybody and smiled when the whole activity was done- "I think we've earned a nice dinner."

- "Please don't tell me we have to hunt our food"- Penelope wide opened her eyes suddenly and looked at Hotch- "I can eat blueberries."

- "Don't worry, kids"- Rossi shook his head and pointed to his camper- "Anyone in the mood for a nice steak?"

- "I bought marshmallows for the campfire later,"- (Y/N) said and smiled- "You are never too old for some s'more."

- "Scary stories by the fire eating s'mores? I'm ten years old again"- JJ looked excited- "I need to do this with Henry."

- "Just don't tell him your "I'm scared of the woods because I found the camp director dead" story." - Derek said, smiling.

- "You freaked out!"- JJ chuckled, remembering how she had scared her friends a few years earlier while working on a case in the woods.

- "I need to hear that story!"- Emily said- "I bet it's no better than mine, I'm sure."

- "Battle of horror stories?"- (Y/N) smiled evilly- "You two have nothing on me."

The evening was fun and a little terrifying. Garcia was holding Derek's arm so tight it was starting to feel numb. Rossi and Hotch had told a couple of stories that left the team completely frightened, to be fair. Especially Spencer. He had forgotten an essential part of his plan: nights in the woods are dark as pitch. And he was afraid of the dark. How would he successfully take (Y/N) to a nice spot, sit down and stare at the stars with her if he was too scared to move from the fire?

(Y/N) looked at Reid and sighed. Maybe he had regretted it. Of course, he hasn't forgotten his invitation, 'cos Spencer remembered everything. Still, he hadn't made any move or sign to go stargazing. Being alone with him in the dark was scary but in the right way. Maybe she could finally tell him how she felt. No, no way. That wasn't going to happen.

- "Ok, so... it's late, and we are out of wine"- Rossi stood up and looked at the team- "I am ready to go to my comfy bed"- the rest of the team groaned. They were going to spend the night in a tent, probably freezing, while Rossi was going to be in his warm camper.

- "I'm going to sleep too, we have trekking in the morning, and it's going to be a long walk. I suggest you all go to bed early."- Hotch stood up and waved at the team, to then walk to his tent."

- "Sweet chocolate thunder, is there room in your tent for me?"- Penelope asked, and he chuckled immediately

- "Are you still scared of the stories? they are just made up things people create to terrify us."

- "I know. But I'm also scared of bears, psycho killers, and slender man"- Morgan looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She wasn't joking.

- "Bring your sleeping bag."

- "You are my hero. I love you."

Prentiss and JJ went to bed soon after, leaving the two love birds alone.

- "Stargazing?"- Reid whispered, and (Y/N) nodded- "We should find a darker stop... or we can stay here by the fire if you like."

- "Are we going to get a nice view here?"- (Y/N) looked at the stars and tried to see anything.

- "No, it has to be darker,"- Spencer whispered, taking a look around- "There was a nice spot by the cliff, that way."

- "I don't think walking to a cliff in the middle of the night is a good idea"- (Y/N) smiled, and Reid shook his head

- "You are right..."

- "But we can walk carefully and carry a flashlight,"- she added and smiled, looking at him. His brown curls moved with the wind, and his chocolate eyes were brighter than the sparks of fire next to them.

- "That sounds good."

Spencer stood still for a second. He had a blanket in one hand and a bag of marshmallows in the other. (Y/N) put on her scarf and jacket and stared at him.

- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah."

He wasn't. He was trying to calm himself down, thinking that walking in the middle of the dark was worthy because it meant spending time alone with (Y/N).

He kept telling himself he didn't have to worry because nothing was going to happen. He wished he had his gun with him in case of any danger, though. Maybe that could make him feel better.

- "You can't kill darkness, stupid"- he whispered to himself and sighed. (Y/N) walked a step closer and took the marshmallow bag. Then, she held his hand.

- "Let's go?"

That was all Spencer needed. He was ready.

- "Did you know astronomy is the oldest of the sciences?- Reid whispered as they walked hand in hand to a nice clear spot - "Ancient astronomers were able to differentiate between stars and planets, as stars remain relatively fixed over the centuries while planets will move an appreciable amount during a comparatively short time."

- "And when did you start learning about the stars?"- Spencer loved that. How each time he started rambling, she wouldn't get annoyed like the rest of the people he knew. Instead, she would always ask him something related to the subject. And it was usually something personal. She wanted to learn more about him and how he had ended up being such an amazing human being.

- "When I was four, mom started taking me regularly to the library. That was when I started to learn more about science. I could pick ten books each time we were there, and I decided I wanted to know everything I could about everything I loved."

Spencer confessed and smiled, looking at her. His heart was warm with their conversations. He was never comfortable talking about his personal life, especially about his childhood. But with (Y/N), it all came naturally.

- "How often did she take you?"

- "Every other day"- she chuckled and remembered the pictures Diana had shown her of Spencer when he was a little kid last time they visited her. He was adorable, with his glasses and his messy hair. It was impossible not to imagine having a family with him.

- "This is it... this is a good spot."- Spencer said and stopped walking. He moved a log and tapped on it, smiling at (Y/N). She sat with him, and he wrapped them together with the blanket.

- "So, what am I staring at?"- (Y/N) asked and kept her eyes on the starry sky. It seemed she had never seen so many stars. And they even looked closer. Spencer looked at her, and his heart skipped a beat. He was about to start a lecture on astronomy, but instead, he decided to do "his move." Or the move he could think of. He didn't really know if it was a move, but he was going to give it a shot anyway.

- "Most stargazers learn about constellations looking for different noticeable patterns across the sky"- he made a pause clearing his throat. That was it. He was going to do it.

- "That's how it all started,"- he continued- "Some of these noticeable patterns up there are still the same ones our ancestors noticed while sitting around a campfire telling stories like we did today."

- "Telling stories about the stars sounds a lot less creepy, though" - (Y/N) whispered, and the two of them smiled- "Wanna tell me a story about these stars?"

There was no way Spencer could say not to her puppy eyes.

- "Ok... let's see..."- Reid sighed and thought for a moment, looking at the constellations above them- "Do you see those stars over there that look like a cute bunny?"

- "Which ones?"- Spencer pointed at the sky, and (Y/N) nodded- "I see them"

- "Well, you'll see, there was a comet in love with the bunny, but it could only look at her from a safe distance."- Spencer finally confessed. (Y/N) held her breath for a second and tried not to get her hopes high.

- "Why?"

- "Well, the comet was afraid he wasn't good enough for the bunny"- Spencer was whispering, and his soft voice sent shivers to (Y/N)'s body- "So he stared at his favorite constellation every day and only imagined what it would feel like to hold her in his arms."

- "And the bunny never saw the comet?"- (Y/N) asked softly, while very, very slowly, she moved her hand and reached Spencer's.

- "The bunny thought the comet just wanted to be her friend because he was scared to tell her how he felt,"

(Y/N) kept thinking there was no way on earth Spencer was telling her how he felt about her with that adorable story. Was he? Really? 'cos it was too romantic, and if he wasn't and she was wrong... it would be heartbreaking. But, there was only one way to find out.

- "I think the bunny felt the same, but she thought she wasn't good enough for the comet"- Spencer's heart raced at those words, and he turned to look at (Y/N). She blushed and stared at him with a shy smile.

- "Why would the bunny ever think that?"

- "The comet is too brilliant and too amazing to settle for a simple constellation when he could have the sun."

(Y/N) was embarrassed to confess those feelings, but it was now or never.

- "But the bunny is the sun in the comet's life."- Spencer whispered and caressed her cheek with his thumb carefully.

- "Really?"- her voice was so soft, it melted Spencer completely. He couldn't answer. All he could do was to lean in slowly and kissed her as gently as he could, enjoying the sensation of her lips against his. He cupped her face with both hands and moved a little closer.

It was the sweetest kiss he had ever given. It wasn't just because (Y/N)'s lips tasted like marshmallow, but because it was filled with pure love. He could feel it, even when he still couldn't believe it. She loved him. She really did.

(Y/N) was sure that wasn't really happening. She had probably fallen down the cliff earlier and was now unconscious or dead, living a fantasy. There was no way Spencer Reid was kissing her.

When they slowly moved and looked at each other, neither of them knew what to say. So (Y/N) did what she always dreamed of doing and leaned in and kissed him again. Spencer didn't hesitate and wrapped his arms around her waist, moving her closer to him. Her hands played shyly with some of the curls of his hair, and they simply kissed for what seemed to be forever, even when it wasn't enough time for them. Spencer felt he could kiss her his whole life, and he still wouldn't get enough of her.

- "So..."- (Y/N) whispered after some minutes and looked at Spencer, blushing- "Do you think the comet and the bunny could... maybe try to be more than friends?"

He smiled and kissed her again, rubbing her lips carefully with his; (Y/N) sighed into the kiss.

- "The comet is willing to do anything the bunny asks him because he just wants to make her happy all day, every day."

(Y/N) couldn't speak. She could only kiss him again and again.

- "Bunny just wants her comet to be happy too."

- "Then would Bunny be the comet's girlfriend?"- she giggled and nodded- "Good, because I don't think I could ever live without your kisses ever again, Bunny."

- "Neither do I, Comet"

And after that, stargazing was forgotten. There were enough stars in their kisses to keep the two of them lost in their own new universe.

#Spencer Reid #Matthew Gray Gubler #Criminal Minds #Fluff #Spencer reid x reader #fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #mgg #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #babymetaldoll writes

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greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 years

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(okay i swear i'll stop after this but im literally shouting about this to everyone IRL too so you might as well hear it--

this is the first conference i have presented at in like...the 5ish? years I've been presenting at conferences and speaking at them and holding workshops at them that i have not left completely depleted of energy.

because i was given space before i had to present for myself, i was able to hang around after. i had a lemonade and spoke with one of the other presenters who has overlapping research interests (they were a fucking delight)! i was able to say hello to one of my colleagues! i was able to meet a couple new people at the research institute that was hosting the event.

and all of this is far more beneficial for me and for research and for myself as a practitioner than the stupid bullshit small-talk before and during conference presentations, or the energy it takes for me to be around other people when im about to have a room staring at me for a prolonged period of time.

i was able to go to a conference and not feel exhausted. i can still form sentences, and im heading into work now where a lot of my job is, in fact, TALKING to people and i am not questioning my coherency at this point.

i just had lunch, took a 45 minute break for myself and we're good to fucking go and all it took was fucking hard copy materials and a separate room.

thats literally it.

i implore, every single one of you reading this right now to ask yourself how your place of work/university is making spaces accessible. how are your meetings conducted? how are company retreats conducted? how does your university host events? ASK YOURSELF. and question literally everything.

the end.)

#now im officially done i swear #just going to tuck myself in with the ADA and my research and business cards #shhh gooodnight doctor grey #in a good way though

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cherryatiny · 3 years

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𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭

GIFs are not mine, credit goes to their respective owner

❁ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

It was no secret that your sugar daddy Hongjoong is a born aristocrat, as his rich taste in everything showed up a lot. Ever since a young age, he was taught to love art in all its forms. When his grandparents passed away sadly, he was the chosen one to inherit the prestigious art gallery their family ran for more than 7 decades.

Although he wasn't an artist of the top level, his love to express himself through art never died. So the very first day he took over the gallery, the first thing he ordered his subordinates to do, was to clear out the smaller room in the back of the director's office.

Soon after, he designed the space to an art studio of his liking, where he could freely spend his free time painting, reconstructing clothes, or just rest while stimulating his brain to function more creatively.

Soon after he met you and you two got into the sugar daddy relationship, he found his muse in you. At first, it started by him just taking pics of you at the moments he deemed to be artsy, not long after that he however started calling you to his little studio in the gallery he ran. Always making you sit or lay down on the old valuable settee, that looked like the ones from Renaissance paintings.

Taking you by your hand, he showed you the paintings of the new exhibition he was preparing. The paintings harmonized well, all of them tuned in a dark abstract setting. Loosening your hand out of his grip, you grasped his wrist the same he did with your often, dragging him to the office. He was slightly taken by surprise as he did not expect you to drag him there since you haven't agreed on him painting you today. „Lay down, for today, you'll be my muse Joongie.“

He was laying on the settee, looking up at the ceiling, so his side-profile was fully visible to you, as you painted him on the canvas. Mixing colours to your liking, you made the portrait of your Hongjoong look abstract, as it matched the art style he often used.

After hours of painting, when you did the last line with your paintbrush, you sighed out tiredly, wiping the sweat off your forehead as you observed your creation. „My muse, you can come here and admire yourself on the canvas.“ Standing up swiftly, he came over to you, leaning forward, his arm wrapping around the shoulder of your sitting self as he was all eyes on the painting.

„It's... spectacular. I- I'm at a loss of words, why did you never tell me you had a talent for painting my darling? If I added this painting to the exhibition there, I can guarantee you, that this will be the most favoured painting in my gallery.“

❁ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

You don't even know why you applied to become Seonghwa's secretary a few months ago, considering you've never worked in this type of branch. But it was probably the best decision of your life because if you wouldn't have applied for the secretary position, you wouldn't have met your sugar daddy Seonghwa.

At first, the work was a disaster as your relationship with your boss didn't start off very well. He was giving you tons of work to do, the stupidest arrangements that were completely unnecessary to make, or the most boring workshops and meetings to take you to with him.

But after the one night at a business conference in Milan when you two got closer than one would expect you to and got into the sugar daddy relationship, his attitude to you drastically changed.

Your secret relationship also made him give you easier and different tasks to do, he as well deemed you to be more reliable than before, which resulted in him giving you free hand in literally everything. He was actually taken aback by how competent you were at your tasks. Doing everything you were told to do, ten times better than he would have probably done.

One night, as you two were cuddling on the couch in his place while looking out of the large glass wall with the sighting of the whole town, he spoke out, „Y/N why didn't you tell me you had such talent for scheduling, strategic planning and business stuff? I should have made you the director of strategic planning or something like that. But then... I get to be closer to you when you're my secretary, my beautiful baby.“

❁ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

„Ah, shit! The actress who was supposed to play the walk-on in the hospital scene with Yunho, can't get here as something happened to her. What do we do now?“ yelled the director out of frustration as the actress announced she can't arrive just a few minutes before they were supposed to shoot.

You were just finishing your sugar daddy Yunho's outfit for the shoot as you were the main costumer for this k-drama. Yunho stood up from his seat as you finished his stylist, bending down to plant a kiss on your lips, before going over to the director with a worried look on his usually joyful face.

You were clearing off the stuff you used on him back to where it belonged to. Eyeing Yunho talk with the director from distance, the two of them occasionally flashing looks at you. When they stopped talking, Yunho jogged to you with the beaming smile you knew that well on his face. His puppy-like features always flashed out when he had any good news, giving him the look that was asking him what he wanted to say.

„Get changed. You've got the role of the girl who's missing.“ you raised your eyebrows at what he just said, taken aback as you did not really understand what he was talking about. You and acting? „Come on, get dressed, we don't have much time. Here's the script.“ handing you the bunch of papers and the outfit the girl was supposed to wear, he motioned for you to go to the changing room.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead as you went away from the shooting site. „Wow, ms. Y/N, are you sure you didn't study acting? Although it was supposedly your first time acting, it was so natural. Wow, I'm glad Yunho showed you to me, you are for real like a hidden gem. Would you... maybe be interested in any more acting in future?“ asked the director with a glance of hope in his eyes after you finished shooting the small part in the k-drama your sugar daddy was starred in. Looking at him, wondering what Yunho's opinion was, the proud and encouraging smile on his face hinting that he really wanted you to accept the offer made by his boss.

„I'm so proud of you princess. My little talented actress, I love you.“

❁ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

Groaning softly, you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, looking at the empty spot beside you. You were sleeping at Yeosang's home, but as you could see, he didn't seem to be sleeping. Slipping your feet into the fluffy slippers with rabbit eyes, you wrapped your body tighter in Yeosang's shirt you were sleeping in, as the air was rather cool.

Opening the door of his bedroom, you went down the stairs of his apartment, down to the living room where a small table lamp was lit. Your sleepy sugar daddy sitting by the desk covered in many papers that seemed to be related to his prosecutor work.

Approaching him, you caressed his shoulder, which woke him up from his quick nap, „Mhm, Y/N. You can go back to sleep, I'll be there soon, I just have to finish this.“ You knew well that that wasn't the case and he won't be there soon. Sighing, you wrapped your arms around his neck, sitting down on his lap, his hand caressing your exposed thighs. „What are you working on, Yeo?“

„I'm treading through the case files, but I just can't take the next step. The police want me to indict him of murder, but the defendant is justifying himself saying that it was an accident and that he should be only indicted of manslaughter.“ Taking the case files from his hand, you read through them since your unbiased opinion might be of help to him.

Taking a pen from his desk, you underlined the facts you thought were important in your lay opinion. Handing it to him, he read focused on the underlined sentences, his eyes lighting up in hope. „Oh my god, Y/N. You're the saviour of my life, this is the core issue but it hasn't even struck up to me. I love you so much, my little prosecutor.“

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

„Sannie, could you please tie my swimsuit?“ you held your hair in a ponytail so it did not get into the way as San tied the ribbon on the back of your swimsuit. You smiled at him as a way to say thank you, leaving the hotel suite your sugar daddy San reserved for you two to enjoy your vacation to the fullest.

San took your hand in his, your fingers intertwining as you walked down the hotel's luxurious corridors to the private beach. „Now, what does my beautiful baby plan on doing today?“ questioned san as he pulled you to him as close as possible. „Hm, I don't know, I'll probably do nothing all day long, just lay on the beach and sunbathe.“

„Then I'll keep you company while you do your nothing.“ giggles were leaving you two as you talked more while on the way to the sea. But as you started nearing the beach, loud dance music coming from the speakers. „What's that...?“ As you got to the beach, a group of people was doing dance work-outs there to the rhythm of the music.

„I have no idea what they are doing, but let's try Y/N“ and without giving you a chance to protest, San tugged you there by your wrist, right to the centre of the imaginary dance floor. He started dancing just as the instructor did, gesturing you to do the same.

Soon after you submitted to his nagging, doing the same as him to the rhythm of the energetic music. „Y/N, you're doing so well. Would I have known about your talent to dance, I would have taken you to some studio a long ago.“

❁ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

After that one ball, you two met together at, you got invited to countless more balls to keep your boss company. Over that many times you two spent together, you get to know each other more and more until eventually, he somehow became your sugar daddy and boyfriend in one.

Tonight was very special, Mingi as the chairman of one of the biggest conglomerates in the country, got invited to the ball held by the president for the most influential people in the country. And when he stopped by your apartment with a beautiful night-robe, a pair of brand-new heels and a golden envelope with the letter of invitation in it, you almost fainted from the delight you felt.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but watch you like a movie on nights like this. Because you seemed so interested in these events, that it truly amazed him how you could act so interested in the talk of the attendants when it bore him to death. You just seemed so natural at attending events like this, you could dance, you knew all the protocol rules, you could pretend interest or know how to answer to the business talk others often held with you. He just couldn’t help but admire the talent you had for the formal events.

Excusing you from their speech, Mingi wrapped his arms around your waist, taking you to the middle of the dance floor as your favourite dance song was playing. Moving slowly, you melted into his touch as you enjoyed each other’s presence dancing the slow dances. „I'm amazed my dear Y/N, I can't bring myself to be interested in talking to these egoistic geezers for more than 5 minutes. Thank god I have you, my talented princess.“

❁ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

When you spent the night at your sugar daddy Wooyoung’s place, you usually weren’t allowed to even be near the kitchen as he insisted “he treats his princess food and she shouldn’t cook, because what if she cuts herself?” so today, as he had to rush to the work early in the morning because of some urgent, leaving you in his immense mansion alone.

And that meant you had a free pass to cook something in his kitchen. But seeing how emptied his fridge was, you opted for something more simple in a form of stir-fried tofu with vegetables. Washing the fresh vegetables thoroughly, you dried them, placing them on the breadboard, to cut them. All of his knives were sharp as Wooyoung was doing his best to keep his kitchen in the best state.

Throwing the tofu cubes onto the pan with a heated droplet of olive oil, you stirred them until they roasted into golden colour, adding the cut vegetables and cooking rice in the meanwhile. Not at all realizing that there was a pair of eyes watching you from the doorframe.

Leaving you like that, Wooyoung in the meanwhile went to change into some sweatpants and a t-shirt, maybe a quick shower. And so when he came back, you were already turning off the stove. „Well, well, well, what do I see? Looks like someone used my kitchen behind my back.“

You jumped in your place lightly, your breathing heavy at how startled you were upon Wooyoung talking to you out of nowhere. „Jung Wooyoung, for how long have you been there?“ he put on a grimace, pretending to be pondering over it. „Probably ever since you added the veggies to eat and started singing to those annoying songs.“

„They’re not annoying, you’re just too old to understand them. Anyway, if you want to nag at me for using your kitchen, do it after you taste my delicious meal. Seems like you were in rush this morning, so you probably haven’t eaten anything“ Placing the plate in front of him, you sat opposite of him, waiting to see what his reaction would be as he had never tasted your cookings before.

„Mhmm, are you sure you’ve cooked it yourself? If so... why have I never let you in my kitchen, when this is so delicious? Gosh, my princess is such a good cook.“ Your smile was full of delight at his compliment as you watched him stuff his mouth full of your food.

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

„Y/N, I’m going to the restroom, you’ll wait for me, right?“ you nodded, watching your sugar daddy Jongho leave the studio. Standing up, you sat down on the now-emptied armchair in front of the PC screens, your eyes scanning the colourful music segments on the screen.

You picked up the sheaf of papers with the notes to his newest song, along with the lyrics he’s written himself. Your eyes ran over the notes and the lyrics and as you were re-reading the text for the 3rd time, you started humming to it, trying to get the right melody Jongho was intending on having in the song.

Opening the door to the studio, Jongho noticed you sitting on the chair, your back turned to him and that resulted in you still being oblivious to his presence. And he didn’t dare to make a move, standing in the door-frame and watching you humming to the song in amazement that you weren’t tone-deaf like most non-musical people were, as you hit all the tones.

„Woah Y/N, are you a trained singer or something? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at music? I would have taken you here long time ago...“

❁ taglist : @galaxteez @gyubaby @bobateastay @tinytinyblogs @ateezinmymind @chososchaos @cvtiehoon @a-soft-hornytiny

#IT'S SHITTY I'M SORRY #I PLANNED IT BEFORE HAND BUT I STILL HAD WRITERS BLOCK #ateez #sugar daddy!ateez #ateez sugar daddy au #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons

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yslkook · 4 years

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#deep dive (11)

#corporate masterlist summary: you receive some surprising news at work and you and jungkook go on your first mini-trip together in tokyo. word count: 11.2k warnings: cursing, alcohol, smut, a fight, discussions of mental health smut warnings- handjob, blowjob, fingering, guided masturbation, penetrative sex, overstimulation, a lil crying, excessive use of pet names lol a/n: another chapter that got away from me... our couple is moving along ladies!! as always ty @cutechim for ur inspiring enthusiasm!!

Surprisingly, after your outburst at work, you hadn’t been reprimanded at all. Despite being nervous to show your face to your boss and your coworkers, there was apparently no need to be nervous.

Because your boss was out on “leave”. Which, as Seokjin and Namjoon had informed you, was really just a way for the senior leaders to tell your boss and his boss to get their shit together.

Much more aggressively, of course.

You’re surprised to see your boss’s office empty and his boss’s office empty as well. And then guilt begins to seep into your bones- had you gotten them fired? It was hard enough to land a job these days, and had you done that to them?

Jungkook catches your forlorn gaze and squeezes your hand subtly as he walks with you to your cubicle. Your side of the floor is relatively quiet today, as many people were out of the office or working from home.

He sits with you in the chair in your cubicle and pulls his laptop out to do some work on this breezy morning. You quite like these impromptu working sessions with him- even if you’re (halfway) in love with him, you both know where to raise the lines of professionalism.

But you hold his hand for a second longer, and he squeezes once more.

“What if I got them fired,” You whisper, careful to keep your voice low.

“Even if they did get fired, they deserve it. For creating a toxic workplace environment,” Jungkook says, so full of conviction that you almost believe it.

“Okay,” You say uncertainly, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs, giving you a sweet, bunny smile, “I’m sure.”

You nod, sighing heavily. “I’ll book a conference room, can you ping Sana and let her know we have to finish those deliverables for the workshop in August? So Namjoon can get his eyes on it…”

“Can’t believe it’s already May,” Jungkook mumbles, shaking his head, “Fucking crazy.”

“I know, right?”

You pack up your laptop and your notebook in your bag and gesture for Jungkook to follow you to the conference room. He walks behind you, wanting to catch a glimpse of the way your dark green pencil skirt hugs your hips and your ass.

Nice.

Midway through your working meeting with Sana and Jungkook, you receive a ping from Hae-Ri herself. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you when you stop speaking mid-sentence, your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity.

“Uh, I gotta step out for a few minutes. Can you two finish this off in the meantime?” You ask, pulling your green blazer on shoving your laptop in your bag.

“Yeah, I think we’re almost done anyway,” Sana says, eyeing you and Jungkook with suspicious eyes. She’s long suspected something was going on with you both. She’s not blind to the not so discreet heart eyes you both send each other, but she assumes you both are keeping whatever it is a secret.

Jungkook sends you a text right away. You tell him Hae-Ri asked to speak with you and that you’ll text him later.

Your heart is in your throat as you walk the two minutes to her corner office with a view but you keep your face as neutral as possible.

She’s already ushering you inside and closing the door behind her, telling you to take a seat.

“Do you want coffee or tea or water?” Hae-Ri asks, pouring herself a large cup of coffee.

“No, I’m okay, thanks,” You say, straightening your back as you try to calm your racing heart.

She sits in her big, fancy leather office chair (it looks like it costs more than the outfit on your skin) and she just looks at you, with her unnerving eyes. You say nothing, only meeting her gaze with the same intensity.

Hae-Ri breaks your impromptu staring contest first with a wide grin.

“So,” She starts.

“So…”

“Do you know why I asked you to come in here?”

You bite your tongue, wanting to ask her “how would I know why you called me in here” but you refrain. “No…”

“Being the head of business development means that I have visibility to everything,” Hae-Ri says matter of factly, “And I’m sure you know that Namjoon and Seokjin sing your praises every chance they can.

“The reason I called you in here is because there’s an opening for a new team that’s gonna be managed under both Hyo-Jin and I. It’ll be a hybrid approach for managing new products, submissions and being part of the business strategy. The position would have a direct line to Hyo-Jin but a dotted line to me. And we think you would be a great fit for it. It’s an associate director level position…”

Associate director? You can’t help your jaw from dropping, that’s three levels up from your current position. It’s a promotion on top of a promotion.

Holy shit. Nobody’s ever recognized you in this way. You swallow a ball of emotion down your throat- of course, you complain about work, about your shitty boss. But never in your wildest dreams, could you have imagined that two of the heads in this area would recognize and recommend you.

“It’s a lot to think about and consider. The position will be posted on the internal career portal in about three weeks to a month. It’ll be a challenge, but I think you’re up to the task. Of course, there is no pressure if you choose not to apply. But talent and leadership should not go unrecognized.”

When you tell Jungkook what Hae-Ri said to you in the safety of your car, he’s far more excited than you are. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your lips and you can’t help but laugh at his antics.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” Jungkook breathes, “About time these people got their shit together-”

“It’s a lot to think about,” You muse, “A promotion of three levels? That hardly ever happens…”

“That just shows how incredibly amazing my hot, sexy, girlfriend is,” Jungkook says, earning himself a swat of his shoulder by your hand, “And it shows how shitty your boss was to let you fly under the radar for this long.”

You give him a small smile. “I have a few weeks to think about it before it gets posted. Hae-Ri said it should be up in mid-June…”

“We gotta celebrate,” Jungkook insists, dropping another kiss to your glossy lips. You laugh, feeling a little giddy along with him.

“It’s not premature?”

“We’re only celebrating the mere possibility.”

“Okay,” You nod, “Let’s go for drinks tonight with our friends? But can we just keep it between us? I don’t want to jinx anything.”

“Yeah, it can be our secret for now,” Jungkook winks, his hoops shaking as he laughs with you, “Stay the night tonight?”

“Maybe, I’ll see if Grandma is okay,” You murmur and Jungkook nods. A squeal (one that you’ll later deny) leaves your lips when Jungkook pulls you into his lap and presses kisses up and down the column of your neck.

“Now lemme show my girl how proud I am of her.”

It’s another night, a warm sticky night in June, where Jungkook stays over your house for the weekend. You don’t like leaving Grandma alone, despite her insistence that you have your own life. Jungkook understands, and it was actually him who had suggested spending the weekend at your place.

Your heart flutters at the thought of him. He had a late Friday meeting and had told you he’d meet you at your house around seven or eight that evening, and had subtly squeezed your hand in your cubicle in goodbye.

That was a few hours ago, and Jungkook had texted you letting you know that he was on his way. He had stopped by to bring flowers, a bottle of wine and some pastries for you and Grandma. They were Grandma’s favorites.

Grandma had insisted on making dinner for you and Jungkook, despite your protests. Your favorite aromas linger in the air and you contemplate having a few bites before Jungkook even arrives. You try to reach for a piece of mandu but Grandma swats your hand away, admonishing you for trying to eat before your boyfriend and guest even arrived.

Boyfriend. What a strange word.

A series of knocks. You eagerly step towards the front door, ignoring Grandma’s not so quiet snicker.

“Hi,” You breathe out, feeling a little flustered. As if you hadn’t just seen him a few hours ago at work.

“Hi, sweet girl,” Jungkook says with a small upturn of his lips and you press a chaste kiss to his lips. It surprises him, how often you kiss him in front of Grandma. Even if they are quick, chaste kisses.

“You gonna invite him in or just stand there and let him get cold?” Grandma says from the dining room, peering over to you both with a hand on her hip.

“Yeah, you gonna let me get cold?” Jungkook asks with a wink and you groan. They always tag team you, but you don’t mind. In fact, you love it. You love that your boyfriend and your only remaining member of your family get along.

You pull him inside and take his bag from him, finally seeing the flowers, bottle of wine and box in his arms.

“What’s all this?” You ask with widened eyes, “You didn’t have to, Jungkook…”

He always brings something when he comes over, and you always say those words to him.

“His parents raised him better than to come to someone’s house empty handed,” Grandma says in approval, making Jungkook’s heart soar. Whenever Grandma gives an inclination that she likes him, it makes him smile. It’s endearing. You rub his cheek with your thumb affectionately and he scrunches his nose at your touch.

“I’ll go put your stuff upstairs,” You murmur, rubbing his back warmly and leaving him with Grandma. Jungkook pulls the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows to help Grandma put the food on the dining table, and your heart constricts at how well he fits with you in your cozy home.

You return to find three glasses of wine filled and a plate already set for you across from Jungkook.

“Food’s so good, Grandma,” Jungkook moans, after nearly inhaling his entire plate. And then some.

“No thanks to your girlfriend,” Grandma snorts and shoots you a teasing smile when you protest loudly.

“Hey! You insisted!”

You pout at both of them when they laugh at your expense, but their laughter makes you smile. Grandma asks Jungkook how work is going, how his family is. You only smile fondly at both of them, taking a backseat from the conversation. It amazes you, how quickly he’s taken to Grandma. You thought it would’ve taken a little more to pull him out of his shell. But he surprises you, as he usually does.

You clear the table and pour another glass of wine for you and Jungkook, who’s turning on your television to browse what movies or shows are available for watching.

You sit next to him after dimming the lights, careful with the two glasses of wine. He’s careful about touching you, not wanting to offend or make you or Grandma uncomfortable.

It’s endearing. You only smile at him, pulling the blankets up to cover you both and lean your head on his shoulder. He tenses up immediately, wanting to reluctantly move away from your touch but you squeeze his forearm in reassurance.

Grandma says nothing as she watches you both, only casting a knowing look to Jungkook.

His cheeks flush at her gaze and he sinks deeper under the blankets, hiding his warm cheeks from Grandma. Grandma only chuckles to herself and you’re oblivious to both of them, eyes focused on the movie.

Grandma had long gone to bed, and you and Jungkook are cuddled under the blankets. Jungkook watches the movie raptly, oblivious to your stolen glances and almost touches. You sigh, wrapping an arm around his bicep and nosing at his neck. You absently push his hair away from his eyes, the pads of your fingers dancing over his scalp. It takes a few moments of you nipping his neck, your lips wet and warm against his skin for him to turn his gaze to you.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “Let’s go to bed, baby.”

“But the movie,” Jungkook protests, his lips breaking into a wide smile at the furrow of your brow, “I’m only kidding. We can watch the movie in bed after all, right?”

You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully but he acquiesces.

You get through all of ten minutes of the movie once you settle in between his legs in your bed. Jungkook’s chin is over your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist loosely. You wonder if he can hear your heart beating right out of your chest. He holds you so easily, as if he was always meant to fit between the spaces of your body.

You’ve changed into your pajamas, just a shirt and some shorts and Jungkook has as well. Into an oversized shirt and his boxers.

Jungkook fully looks like your boyfriend, your baby, and it sends a wave of affection through you. Turning your head and shifting to look at him. His cut jaw calls for your attention and you press your lips there, to his neck and finally to his own lips.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” You mumble, running your fingers through his dark hair.

“Are you mine?” Jungkook asks, pressing his forehead to yours. A smart comment is on the tip of your tongue, but it disappears from your mind quickly. The way he’s looking at you, as if you hold all of his warmth, makes you curl further into him and drop another kiss to his lips.

“Yes,” You exhale and your cheeks heat up when you pluck the courage to run a hand over his chest. Jungkook finds your shyness endearing- for someone a little rough around the edges, he’s not surprised at your softness.

“Baby,” Jungkook murmurs, the term of affection still making your heart lurch, “You can touch, sweet girl. ‘M all yours.”

You swallow, a little nervously. “Me too,” You say softly, “Want you to touch me, baby.” You lean your head on his shoulder, tugging him down to you and meet his lips eagerly. You deepen the kiss quickly, a moan slipping out of your mouth without realizing. You could kiss him for hours, the soft feel of his smooth lips against yours is addicting. Flurries of butterflies erupt in your belly when he nips your bottom lip playfully and you moan again, the sound shooting straight through Jungkook.

He pulls away for a breath, looking at you with hooded eyes. You’re about to dip your head for another kiss but he ducks his head to plaster his lips to your neck. The wetness of his tongue slides along the column of your neck, before he gently kisses you behind your ear. If you were standing, your knees would have buckled surely. Jungkook cups your face gently, rubbing your cheek as he buries his face in your neck.

“Jungkook,” You breathe and he coaxes an unexpected moan from your throat when he sucks and soothes your collarbones.

Jungkook pulls away with reddened lips and you immediately push your lips to his without missing a breath. He’s itching to let his hands roam, to squeeze and hike your shirt up around your waist before peeling it off altogether.

You run your tongue over his bottom lip teasingly and press your chest flat against his. He’s been so patient with you, taking it as slow as you had needed to. Jungkook has been following your lead this whole time, not wanting to overwhelm you. But you’ve been ready for him to take the lead and teach you. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel pressured.

And honestly, all Jungkook wants to do is make you feel good. And learn what you like and don’t like. He doesn’t think you even know what you like. He has a feeling of a few things that he is excited to explore with you.

Jungkook is not surprised when you take his hand and pull it under your shirt. The pads of his fingertips, brush lightly against your sides. You gasp at the sudden spark of his hands against your skin and impatiently slide up against him for more friction.

His hands are so big, so much bigger than your own, dotted in tattoos. You can hardly believe these are the hands that are squeezing you so gently and adoringly. But you’re impatient, and you pull your sleep shirt up and off of your frame to toss it to the side.

You want more. You want more of him and you don’t want slow. You want soft, but you’re ready for something a little more.

“My pretty girl,” Jungkook purrs, thumbs flitting over your tits, “Does my pretty girl want somethin’?”

“Just want you,” You mumble.

“Tell me,” Jungkook murmurs, fingers tracing over your tattoos with a featherlight touch.

“Want you to touch me,” You nearly whine, and he grins in satisfaction. One of these days, he’ll teach you what it means to beg. But not today. He palms your breasts, moaning into your neck just at the feel of your soft flesh in his hands.

The sight of his tattooed hands on yours, his tattooed arms around you sends another bolt of arousal down your spine.

Your eyes close of their own volition when he pinches your nipple, a silent sound caught in your throat. And then his pliant mouth replaces his fingers, warm breath fanning over your chest. Arousal shoots down your spine and you squeeze your legs together without realizing it.

It’s clear that he knows what he’s doing- not that you had any doubt in your mind about that. He’s told you that he’s had two serious girlfriends in college and the beginning of graduate school. You’re certain there were hookups in between and after.

Your hips buck up, grinding into the air as you squirm in his arms. “Stay still,” Jungkook murmurs. You can’t help it, not really. But you try to listen anyway. “Open your eyes,” He coaxes you.

When you meet his eyes, they’re slick with desire and adoration. For you.

“Good girl,” He says, his voice low. The low timber of his voice sends a shudder through you and your eyes widen. Jungkook’s lips twist into a smirk.

“Will you let me make you feel good?” Jungkook asks, his hand ghosting over your thighs. Your hips jump at the sensation and he squeezes your waist. You nod eagerly. “Tell me, baby,” He says, his lips leaving trails of kisses down your chest and your belly.

“Yes,” You gasp, “Jungkook, please-”

He gives you a bright, bunny smile and your heart skips a beat. Adjusting you so that your back is flat against his chest, he kisses the back of your neck. His touch is constant on you- your belly, your waist, your breasts.

Jungkook palms your clothed pussy and you gasp sharply at the buzzing sensation suddenly filling your head. You reach behind him to wrap your arm around his head and tug on his hair impatiently as he rubs against you with quicker paces.

You wonder if he even knows what he’s doing to you. From the wetness staining your panties, he just might find out soon enough.

“Show me how you touch yourself, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice husky in your ear. You’re certain cotton is filling his brain, because there’s no way he just asked you that.

“What?” You ask, and Jungkook chuckles at your speechlessness.

“Didn’t hear me?” Jungkook says, “Show me how you touch yourself.”

You’re stunned into submission, peering up at him with hazy eyes. Keeping your eyes on him, you shrug out of your shorts and your underwear in one fell swoop, leaving you completely bare for his gaze. Goosebumps rise on your skin when he says nothing, only drinking you in with wide, thirsty eyes.

Jungkook swallows. “Fuck.”

“What?” You ask, beginning to panic at his lack of a reaction. You close your legs instinctively but he pushes your knees apart, giving him a view of your glistening folds.

“Had such a big crush on you in school,” Jungkook mutters, “You didn’t even know, baby. And now I get to see you like this. Because you gave us a chance.

“And you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Jungkook says, tugging your jaw to him and dropping a deep kiss to your lips.

“Thought you wanted a show,” You quirk the corner of your lips up and he chuckles against your neck. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you feel something hard poking at your ass.

It makes your stomach flip. You bring your knees up to your chest and spread your legs wider. Jungkook’s breaths are staggered in your ear and he squeezes your tits as your hands slide down your chest to your pussy. You rub your clit, your hips jolting immediately and Jungkook holds you steady.

You tease yourself, your touch barely there as your clit throbs. “Look at you, pretty girl,” Jungkook murmurs. You circle your clit with your middle finger, gathering your wetness before Jungkook seizes your hand.

It appears he’s growing impatient, too.

His much longer fingers replace yours, the touch sending another bolt of electricity through you. You imagine what Jungkook’s fingers feel like against you almost all the time, but reality is so much better than your daydreams. He rubs you lazily and you whine, wanting him to go faster. You put your hand over his as he circles your clit.

You don’t even realize that you’re moaning and squirming, pushing back against his hard cock purposefully. “Be quiet, baby,” Jungkook whispers, nipping your earlobe, “Grandma’s only a few doors down…”

Jungkook makes you feel like you’re in your own world, thoughts filled with nothing but sinful honey and him. You whimper as he rubs your clit faster and faster, your thighs beginning to close to lock his fingers in place.

“Jungkook,” You moan, cheeks heating up at the pitchiness of your voice. Jungkook hums in response, only pressing his lips to your neck and his other hand to your chest. You push back against him harshly, back pressed into his chest as if you’re trying to mold yourself into him.

You writhe in his hold, not used to the feeling of his long, thick fingers rubbing your folds. Jungkook pushes a finger into your throbbing pussy once you’re slick and you shiver, a broken sort of noise escaping your lips. Your moans are loud, and Jungkook is pleased but he presses his lips to yours to swallow your soft noises.

Your grip around his wrist is tight, as if to tether yourself to him. “Hey,” Jungkook says softly, nipping at your earlobe again, “Look, baby. Watch me, look how your pussy was made for me. You’re so wet, sweet girl…”

Glancing down to where his fingers were gliding in and out of your wetness easily, you let out another choked noise. He slips another finger into your pussy and you let out a shuddering gasp of his name, your nails digging into his wrist. The lewd sounds of his fingers in your wetness fills your bedroom and if you weren’t so consumed by thoughts of him, you might be almost embarrassed.

“Kook,” You mumble, your hips grinding into his touch to feel as much of him as you can, “Kook, feels so good…” You snake a hand behind you to sink into his dark hair and tug lightly, pulling a soft groan from him.

“Good girl,” Jungkook murmurs, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, “My good girl, my dream girl-”

Another rush of wetness floods his fingers at his words and he smirks into your sweaty skin. Your ass is pressed up against his hardened cock, but he wants to make you feel good first. He can worry about himself later. He bucks his hips into your ass and you push back at the feel of his clothed cock against you.

Your thighs begin to shake, a coil beginning to snap in your belly. It’s more powerful than it’s ever been- your own fingers had never brought you to the edge like this.

“You’re close, right?” Jungkook nearly slurs, high off of the sound of your noises, “My pretty girl’s gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You tug his hair harder and nod furiously, hips still bucking into his fingers. It only takes a few more rubs of your clit and pumps of his fingers for you to gasp and arch your back off of his chest. Jungkook immediately plasters his lips to yours to silence the sound of you cumming.

He’ll have to hear them fully. He needs to. But not tonight.

You pull away to gasp for air and your chest is heaving, eyes wide at the force of your orgasm from just his fingers alone. “Jungkook,” You mumble, wanting to see him. You turn in his hold, finally facing him and he’s just as lust blown as you.

You give him a lazy smile and wrap your arms around him, nosing at his neck. Before he can say anything to you, you roll your hips into his, meeting his clothed hardness. Jungkook drops his head against the headboard, groaning softly. His hands are planted firmly on your bare hips and you seemingly don’t mind that he’s fully clothed while you’re not.

“Rock with me, baby,” He murmurs, burying his face in your chest. Your legs are on either side of his hips and you comply easily, your breath hitching when he kisses marks soothingly over your breasts.

You wonder if you’re about to have the pleasure of seeing Jungkook cum again- it’s always beautiful, like the rest of him. Your hips feel like home to him, he squeezes and swats your ass gently. You only grin at him, pressing your forehead to his. His eyes nearly close in pleasure but he keeps them open, wanting to see you moving with him. A wet spot forms on his boxers from both of your arousals and he knows he’s about to cum soon-

And you do, too.

“Y’r g’nna make me cum in my pants, like I’m fifteen,” Jungkook pants, eyes straining to stay open to watch you.

“Or like you’re twenty-one and you’re obsessed with your mentor,” You breathe, earning yourself a pinch to your waist, “Kook, ‘m close again…” You never cum this quickly after the first time. Jungkook brings out the best parts of you, it seems.

“Me too, baby,” He grunts into your skin, harshly covering your lips with his own. A spark blooms in your belly, slowly spreading and warming you up from within. It’s much slower and less intense than your first orgasm, but just as delicious. You’re sensitive as he rocks his hips into yours and you whine softly at the feeling.

You move to sit on his thigh and your hands shake for a moment before scratching his chest with your freshly done nails. Then his abs. Then his navel.

“Can I?” You mumble.

“Can you what, baby?” Jungkook asks, amusement still in his eyes. You huff. He’s really going to make you say it.

“Wanna feel you, baby,” You murmur, meeting his eyes, “Wanna feel your cock in my hand-”

“‘M yours, pretty girl,” He replies easily, taking your wrist in his hand. You palm him from outside his boxers and you both groan- you from how big he is, and him from how warm your hand feels against him.

You shyly dip your hand down the waistband of his boxers but he stops you for a second. He wordlessly moves you from his thigh to the bed to slip out of his boxers so that he’s bare to you as well. After all, it’s only fair.

You can’t stop the soft gasp that leaves your lips or the way that your eyes zero in on his leaking cock. He’s so big in your hands and you can’t help but lick your dry, parched lips. Your cheeks are warm and for once, you have nothing to say- no quip, no snarky remark.

You tug on his shirt impatiently- how had you allowed him to be wearing clothes for this long? Pulling his shirt off of him and tossing it to the floor, you allow yourself the luxury of letting your hands roam his honeyed skin. He’s somehow both cut and soft, tight and supple.

Despite the number of times you’ve seen him like this, you can never get used to it. Even if it’s not the first time his cock is hot and heavy in your hands, you can’t help but trace his tattoos with your free hand and feel a little in over your head.

“Kook,” You murmur, curling close into his side and drawing your knees up to your chest, “Baby, teach me.”

Jungkook groans, the sincerity in your voice making his stomach flip. He takes your hand and squeezes before guiding you to the tip of his reddened cock. You experimentally palm his cock, smearing his leaking pre-cum over his cock and he gasps, burying his face in your shoulder.

You stroke him slowly, watching and listening for his breaths. They’re heavy against your skin and he tightens his grip around your waist, trying to melt into you.

“Faster, baby,” Jungkook says, his voice wrecked, “‘m so close-”

You pump him faster in your hands, making sure to be gentle with your grip. Jungkook looks down, marvelling at how big he looks in your hands.

“Am I doing okay, Jungkook?” You whisper, dark eyes wide and unsure. With hooded eyes, he groans and kisses you, and you feel his moans vibrating through your body. He’s so close- he can feel himself starting to come undone, and with another few pumps, he comes all over your hand. Some of his cum splatters on his belly but he pays it no mind, only focusing on regulating his breaths. Without thinking, you lick at the tips of your fingers and swallow the little bit of his cum that landed on your hands.

“I’ll go get a tissue to clean you up,” You whisper, searching for your shirt. When you find it, you stand up on shaky legs, only for him to yank you back towards the bed.

“Jungkook,” You scold lightly, and he presses his face into your belly.

“You believe me when I say you’re my dream girl,” Jungkook murmurs, ignoring your noise of protest. He looks up at you with bright, sparkling eyes. You swallow nervously, unable to handle the sudden bubbling of adoration you hold for this man.

“Put your boxers on, Jeon,” You mumble, pushing yourself off of him. You hear him laugh fondly. He knows you too well, he knows you’re repeating his words in your head. You emerge from the bathroom, looking a little unsure but still determined. Your hands tremble a little as you attempt to clean him up and he covers your hand with his own to guide you. Jungkook watches you flit around the room before standing up and tugging his boxers on.

He stands up and wraps his arms around your waist, his hands dipping under your shirt. Being in his arms immediately calms you down in gentle waves. He’s become such a calming pillar, a welcomed force in your life. You don’t think even your wildest, most romantic dreams could have ever conjured up someone like him.

Maybe he’s your dream boy, too.

Jungkook drops a kiss to your cheek, walking you back to the bed and laying you on top of it. He pulls the covers up over both of you and is half on top of you. You lean in for a kiss, stars shining in your eyes as you look at him. His legs tangle with yours when he meets your lips and pulls you in close.

“Goodnight,” You whisper when you pull away, “I think you’re my dream boy that I didn’t know I was dreamin’ about.”

With that, you turn your head so he doesn’t see how flustered you are. Your cheeks meet the cool material of your pillow and you pretend not to hear his low chuckle. He only squeezes your waist and murmurs a soft ‘goodnight’ to you.

You’d submitted your application for the associate director position that Hae-Ri had recommended you to apply to. You’d already had the first round of interviews, with the person who would be your direct manager and with Hae-Ri herself. And then you had another interview with Hyo-Jin.

You felt at ease and it felt more like a conversation than an actual interview. Which Jungkook and Jin tell you is because you made the smart decision to get to know them both months ago, before you decided you wanted a shift in your career.

But then Hae-Ri dropped the bombshell on you after the series of interviews. To be in the position, she recommended you finish your masters program at the graduate school you dropped out of (or any grad school that had the same degree). She said the company would pay for it and you could do it while you worked.

But still. It left a sour, angry taste in your mouth.

Jungkook knows, somewhere in the back of his mind. That the words that are about to spill out of his mouth are going to upset you. But he says them anyway, because he thinks you need to hear them-

“If Hae-Ri said that she had a spot for you if you went back to school while working for her,” Jungkook says slowly, “Then isn’t it a no brainer? Your boss sucks, you complain about him and you deserve-”

“Back to school?” You scoff, “Everyone’s gonna be so much younger than me-”

“What does that matter? It’s just a year, and you’ll have your masters degree! Yeah, it’ll be hard to do it with work but you can-”

“I don’t wanna go back!” You exclaim (maybe a little childishly), and cross your arms over your chest. Annoyance seeps into you and you try your best not to get irritated at Jungkook. You know there is truth in his words but you don’t want to hear it just yet.

You’re not ready to face school again. You’re not ready to be at the same place that you had found out Appa had passed away. You’re not ready. Or are you?

“Why not! You don’t need to go back right away, Hae-Ri said-”

“I know what she said,” You say sharply, pinching the bridge of your nose with your brows furrowed, “You don’t need to repeat to me what she said, Jungkook.”

“I don’t understand,” Jungkook says flatly.

You start to notice his eyes losing its usual warmth, reminding you of the days when he would look at you so coldly.

You shiver. He instinctively reaches for you and you let him hold you close for a minute.

But the words come tumbling out of you, your cheeks blazing and ears burning, before you can stop them.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” You mutter and he drops his hand from your waist as if he’s been burned.

Ice crawls through your veins, dousing you in something cold and unforgiving. You’re hurting him (again), and you can’t stop yourself. You can hardly stand yourself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungkook whispers, looking a little lost and a little heartbroken.

“It means you wouldn’t understand being too unable to take care of yourself to go to school,” You say, eyes narrow and jaw steeled, “It means everything’s come easy to you, Jungkook- fucking school, this fucking job-”

“That’s not fucking fair,” Jungkook says with a frown, “You’re deflecting and you’re being mean-”

You laugh. Mirthlessly. The hollowness seeping into your eyes makes Jungkook’s skin crawl.

“That’s me, baby. All I’m good at is deflecting and being mean. You haven’t caught on yet?”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly, hurt seeping into his voice as he levels his watery gaze at you, “You’re pushing me away. Stop it, baby.”

“Am I wrong?” You sneer, pressing your nails into your biceps. It hurts. You’re hurting him, it’s hurting you and you can’t stop running your mouth. You can’t stop the acid on your tongue or the daggers in your eyes.

You’re reacting this way just from the mere mention of going back to school. Pathetic.

“You have an opportunity to move ahead and you’re being stubborn about it because you don’t want to go back to school? I’m sure there are a lot of fucking hard memories associated with grad school but don’t take that out on me for wanting better for you,” Jungkook says coldly. While his eyes are icy, you still see the shine of unshed tears in them.

“I’m not being stubborn-”

“From all of this, that’s your response? That you’re not being stubborn?” Jungkook struggles not to raise his voice at you, feeling his chest burn with hurt.

“What else do you want me to say, Jungkook?” You throw your hands up in frustration, “I can’t make you understand-”

“I’m not telling you to make me understand,” Jungkook says, “I’m telling you to consider your future and your capabilities, you’re the one who fucking complains about work all the time-”

“Oh, well, sorry that we can’t be everyone’s fucking golden boy at work-”

“If you’re not gonna do anything about it, then don’t fucking complain-”

“Seriously? I can’t complain to my boyfriend now?”

“You’re missing the point, baby,” Jungkook sighs in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I can’t talk to you right now, not when you refuse to listen, and when you’re being spiteful.”

“W-what? What does that mean?” You say, nearly all of the fire extinguished from your belly at his words. He starts to put his jacket on, unable to look you in the eyes because if he does, he knows he’ll cry.

“W-wait, Jungkook,” You mumble, tugging his hand but he pulls it back as if you’ve burned him again, “Baby-”

“I can’t-” He squeezes his eyes shut, not noticing a few tears leak out. Your heart breaks in front of you- clearly you were too wrapped up in your own spiral of defense to realize how much your words were hurting him. “I don’t wanna be around you right now. Not if you’re gonna hurt me like this.”

“I’m-”

“I know you didn’t mean it, but you said it for a reason,” Jungkook says. His words make you tear up. “We can talk when you figure out why.”

“Jungkook,” You mumble, wanting to touch him but afraid he’ll reject you again, “Wait, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

He looks at you long and hard, heart cracking a little bit at the sight of your sad eyes. But you did this and you need to figure out why you were so defensive over going back to school. He deserves better than you lashing out at him for the mere mention of it. He knows it and you know it.

Jungkook wants to kiss your tears away, but he’s hurting, too.

You want to ask for a kiss, for a text when he gets home. But you don’t, and he’s almost out of the front door before he turns on his heel and brushes his lips over your hair.

You feel salty tears drop from your eyes with his touch as he leaves you with an unspoken ultimatum.

You end up texting Jungkook an hour after he left your house, just wanting to make sure he got home safely. It takes him ten minutes from when you sent the text for him to respond with a simple ‘yes’ and you’re too nervous to text him anything other than a simple ‘okay’.

You hold your head in your hands and groan to yourself, rubbing your temples.

How could you say the things you said to him so easily, without regard for how it might hurt him? Just because the topic of school always set you off- and it always has for the last five years and change. No matter how much time has gone by, how far you’ve come in therapy… there’s always something.

You bury yourself under your covers and sniffle, finally letting yourself cry. A hole starts to unzip inside your chest and all you want to do is bury yourself in it. Your words to him, to the man who always has treated you with nothing but kindness and smiles, ring heavy in your ears.

He’s too good for you. He’s too good for you- he’s too golden and good for you. You’ll only bring him down, won’t you? With all of this baggage that he didn’t sign up for. There was no reason for you to verbally spit in his face like that.

His cold, hurt eyes are haunting. You can’t believe you put that look on his face. You’ve been on the receiving end of it because of your own actions too many times now.

It makes your heart ache and it makes you cry harder into your pillow. You don’t know how long it is that you lay there, but at some point, Grandma crawls into your bed with you and holds your head in her lap. She rubs your back as you cry and sniffle your heart out.

By the time Grandma gently coaxes you to tell her what happened, your chest hurts and your eyes are puffy and rimmed red. She only sighs and lays with you in silence, until she sighs again in that way that you know she’s going to voice her opinion to you.

“He only wants you to have a future that you deserve, even if that means confronting things you don’t want to confront,” Grandma says wisely, “Even if you don’t want to hear it for him.”

“I know. Shit, I know. I hurt him, I hurt him bad,” You mumble, fresh tears pooling in your eyes at the thought of his big, brown eyes looking at you in that heartbroken way.

Another forlorn sigh. “You can fix it. Just talk to him, sweetheart.”

“I know. I will. I don’t think he wants to talk to me right now. I think I should have a therapy appointment first,” You groan, rubbing your eyes, “I don’t know why the thought of school sets me off so easily. And Kook is the last person… I hate that I hurt him.”

“I think you know why the thought of school sets you off,” Grandma says, giving you a knowing look.

It takes you a few days of self reflection (and actively not spiraling into the very tempting black hole of self loathing) to finally understand your reaction to Jungkook suggesting you go back to school.

It’s not like you haven’t had a similar explosive reaction before- Jin has always tiptoed about it with you. And Grandma has stopped bringing it up because you always shut down when the topic arises.

Perhaps now is a good time to examine why- after all, you’d only hurt your boyfriend’s feelings so much that he can barely stand to speak to you apparently. You both have been speaking normally, sharing chaste kisses when you can but you can tell he’s holding back a little, to give you both the space you need.

It’s only been a few days but you’re so sad without him. Knowing that you hurt him the way you did.

Jungkook feels like he overreacted a bit. He doesn’t want you to figure this out alone- he didn’t mean to just leave. But he couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t stand how… mean you were being. Mostly, he couldn’t stand how he knew you were doing it on purpose, to get him to drop the topic.

He hopes you can come to an understanding with yourself. But he wants you to lean on him when you need to as well.

So when you text him asking if you can come over later that evening, he immediately says yes.

You don’t text Jungkook when you arrive, only knocking at his door. He greets you with surprised eyes and pulls you inside immediately, pulling you into a tight hug right away.

He feels as if it’s been forever since he held you last.

“Hi, honey,” You mumble, feeling tired with longing, “These are for you.”

It’s a bouquet of some of his favorite flowers, his favorite purples and pinks in your hands and he wants to kiss you in gratitude, but he follows your lead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Jungkook replies and takes your bag after putting the flowers in a vase and takes your hand, leading you to his bedroom. You feel a little nervous, afraid of how much you might have hurt him. Afraid of what he thinks of you now.

But he pulls you into his arms and cradles your face in his hands, the tips of his fingers melting into the warmth of your skin. Your eyes well up with tears for no reason and it stuns you that this man affects you to this degree. Maybe you should be a little more surprised, but you’re not. Not really.

“Hi, baby,” He says quietly and your heart seizes. Jungkook says your name again and pulls you into his chest for another longer hug and you hum into the warmth of his torso. Your hands are hesitant, yearning to touch his arms, his chest, his face. But you have a lot you want to say before any of that so you pull away reluctantly and sit on his bed.

“C’mon, let’s lay,” Jungkook murmurs, pushing his black and grey duvet and squeezing your hand. You feel a little lightheaded but you follow his lead, relaxing in his embrace as he cuddles you from behind. His chin is hooked over your shoulder, arms tight around your waist, lips brushing over your neck. You hold his tattooed forearm, mindlessly drawing lines and circles over his skin.

“I have to say something,” You finally mumble after a few minutes and turn in his arms to face him. His touch is never too far, always around you- always gravitating to you and making you feel warm and safe.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, eyes wider than you’ve possibly ever seen him. You can’t help but want to kiss him, but you hold back. Just until you say what you need to say.

His hands are soothing over your back as he encourages you. So you tell him- you tell him how your last therapy appointment went. You tell him how you’ve reacted this way to anyone who bothered to bring school up to you whether it’s Jin or Grandma. You tell him how the thought of graduate school instantly takes you back to the day you were in class and you received a phone call from the hospital telling you that your father had passed away.

You tell him how sometimes it feels like you’re living in a movie, a never-ending reel of the worst thing to happen in your near 30 years of life. But…

“It doesn’t feel so terrible these days,” You murmur, “It feels like an ache most times. But not as overwhelming as before… I think maybe I didn’t- I didn’t handle my grief in the best way. And it took me this long to realize it.

“You know, I started realizing it when I saw you that first day. In the office. When I was such a bitch to you-”

Jungkook stops the self-deprecating spill of your lips with a chaste kiss.

“You… you’ve changed me in a lot of ways, Jungkook. And I know we haven’t been together all that long,” You whisper, your voice choked and low, “I always want to be better for you, with you-”

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut as your throat closes up. This is hard for you, to bare your heart out like this. But if there’s anyone you want to be vulnerable for, it’s Jungkook.

“What I’m trying to say is… you’re right. I can’t keep living in the past when I have opportunities to be better and it’ll be hard work to dissect those feelings but… I want to do it. And I’m sorry for what I said, for taking all of that out on you. You didn’t deserve that-”

“I’m sorry, too,” Jungkook murmurs, surprising you, “For telling you that you shouldn’t complain. Of course you should complain. And I want to be the one you complain to. I’m sorry for just… leaving when you were clearly going through something.”

“Jungkook, no,” You shake your head and push his hair back, thumbs gentle over his cheeks, “If you need space from me or for anything… you never need to feel bad or guilty for that.”

“Okay,” He says almost shyly, “I know it must have been hard to talk about this. So, I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, but… I want to make this work with you more than I’m afraid of facing those memories and fears. And just in general, I mean, I just want to try to be better. And you’re worth it, Koo-”

He holds your face in his hands, eyes drawn to yours- stars meeting stars and you sink into his sheets at the calm, welcoming fire in his gaze. His lips are on yours before you can blink, swallowing any potential noise of protest that might come out of your mouth.

It’s only been a few days but you missed Jungkook, you missed his warm smile, the heat of his hands, the comfort of his broad shoulders and the way he fits against you. His nose is pressed to your neck, large hands instantly floating under your shirt to feel as much of you as he can.

“Koo,” You mumble, pushing lightly at his chest, “Are we okay? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. He tastes a bit like his mango chapstick (his current favorite). He leaves his lips near yours, pressing his cheek to yours as much as he can. You thread your fingers through his hair, dancing along his scalp and he sighs contentedly. “We’re okay and I’m okay. I wanna be here with you while we get through this together. Are you okay?”

You hum in agreement and wrap a leg around his waist, suddenly feeling very, very tired. His shirt is loose in your grip- he can tell how exhausted you are. Because he’s exhausted, too. Jungkook only holds you close under his covers and waits for your breaths to even out before falling asleep, too.

When August comes around, the final workshop for the big submission does, too. The last workshop will take place in Tokyo, which you’re excited about. Because you and Jungkook had decided to go to Tokyo to spend the weekend together. Meaning you’d be leaving on Friday evening to reach Tokyo around 9:30 PM.

You’d made sure Grandma would be okay, insisting that she call you or call Seokjin if anything happened. She scoffs at you but reassures you that she will. She says she’ll be spending most of her time with her close friends in the area, anyway.

You’ve only been dating Jungkook for four or five months now, and teetering on the edge of something more for maybe six months. You wonder if it feels too fast- the speed with which you open your bleeding heart up to him should scare you, but it doesn’t. It feels natural with him.

You’ve both voiced your concerns to each other- fear that you were moving fast and would tire of each other. Or that you were moving too fast to properly assess your feelings.

But both of you agreed that you both felt comfortable and trusted each other enough to speak up if you were uncomfortable. So traveling together for a weekend didn’t feel terribly out of your comfort zone.

You were excited to be with him completely alone, too. Without the stress of work or Taehyung or Grandma to hear you.

Jungkook thinks you both need time alone, too. To see how you’d work as a pair.

You’d taken it upon yourself to plan a few things around Tokyo for the weekend. You wanted to take him to a few places that Appa used to take you to. Maybe it was too much for a fresh relationship, but you want him to see the parts of you that grew up here, too.

You feel incredibly exposed, your heart and soul on display as you hold Jungkook’s hand in yours. Old memories of Appa and of this park spill from your lips fondly and Jungkook only listens with wide, sparkling eyes. Vulnerability drips from your tongue and he swallows it up eagerly.

A light breeze ruffles through his hair and you stop him mid-stride to stand by the lake. The clear water glimmers with the sun, blue and purple petals floating over the water slowly. You lean over the railing and Jungkook encases you with his arms on either side of you, his chest pressed to your back.

“We used to fly kites here,” You say wistfully, “Right over there-”

You point at the other side of the lake where trees shroud the corners with brightly colored leaves. “And always get food from the food carts right outside the park.

“And this is where I was that one time we were here for the workshop. I came here before that happy hour, too.”

Jungkook kisses your cheek and you lean back, letting your head rest over his shoulder as his arms snake around your waist. There’s nobody around, even though it’s relatively early in the morning. The only sounds that can be heard are your own breaths, and the softness of the birds chirping and the wind whistling.

“The happy hour when the night before I hurt your feelings,” You murmur, “I’m sorry I said everything I said to you. And I’m so sorry I was so… mean and bitter to you in the beginning. You didn’t deserve that.”

You turn in his arms, wanting to see him, and cup his cheek. Letting your thumb trace the mole below his lip and over his cheeks.

“I’m scared,” You confess, “I’m scared that I’ll ruin you and break your heart. Because I’m still in pieces sometimes. I like you so much but shouldn’t I seek love from someone else only after I learn to love myself?”

“I can love you as you learn,” Jungkook murmurs, kissing your forehead, “Self-love doesn’t mean you don’t have to accept love from others, baby.”

Another strong breeze tickles your face, caressing Jungkook almost tenderly. “Sometimes I like to pretend like winds like that are Appa and he’s saying hello,” You say sheepishly with a watery laugh, “I think he likes you.

“I’m scared, Jungkook. But I want to be scared with you,” You exhale, tears dotting your eyes and a small smile on your face.

Jungkook pulls you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and rubbing your back soothingly. “‘M gonna take care of your heart, princess. You’re always safe with me.”

You immediately burst into tears, because you trust him with your soft heart and you believe him. He only smiles at you, tears rolling down his own cheeks as he thumbs yours away. Jungkook kisses you softly, squeezing your cheeks together and you can taste the saltiness of your tears on your tongue. You deepen the kiss quickly, pouring all of your trust and respect for him onto your lips.

He drinks you up easily and bends his knees a bit to scoop you by your thighs and lift you up, even spinning you a bit as his lips stay pressed to yours. You pull away first with a dazed, watery giggle and push his hair away from his forehead to press a kiss there.

You feel weightless and airy in his arms, your hands steady on his shoulders as he spins with you.

You could love this man- you already love his wide, crinkly-eyed smile, the way the tips of his ears turn pink when you fluster him, the way he is so considerate and charming.

“Jungkook,” You mumble, pushing his hair back again, “Take me back to our hotel, baby.”

Jungkook can’t keep his hands off of you, not with the dim lights of the hotel lobby making your hair shine, not when you stand in front of him in the elevator and lean into him as his arm lazily wraps around your waist to pull you closer. His nose tickles your neck as he drops kisses to your cheek, smiling against your skin when you laugh lightly.

The elevator dings. You both stumble out, holding hands as if you’re love drunk on each other and it’s not 7:30 in the morning.

You push him against the door once you key yourself inside, impatient and hands wandering. A choked noise escapes his lips but it melts into a moan when you press into him.

Jungkook can’t keep his hands off of you, not with the way you breathe his name out as if it’s spicy honey on your tongue. Your legs remain wrapped around his waist as he holds you by your thighs, his hands digging into them. You’re secure in his arms- the fact that he can hold you up so steadily, so easily has you rolling your hips into his and moaning into his mouth unashamedly.

“Shit,” Jungkook groans into your ear, a little desperate, “I want you so bad, baby.”

You hum in agreement, lips pressed to the spot behind his ear. The spot that you had quickly discovered in your relationship that he liked. He stumbles for half a second before dropping you to the large bed and hovering over you.

Jungkook impatiently tugs at your blouse, trying his best to unbutton it as carefully as possible. He curses under his breath, shooting you a playful glare when you giggle at him. He unclasps your bra easily and once you shuck it off to the side, his mouth is warm and wet against your bare chest. Your giggles turn into soft sighs of his name.

Ever since he had realized how much you like the feeling of his mouth on your tits, he couldn’t get enough. You’re so sensitive, almost all the time, and this time is no different.

You always try to push him away but coax him back for more.

Your small hands are ghosting over his chest, glazing over the ridges and dips of his abs and of his pecs. You tug on his shirt and pull it up and over his head, tossing it to the side to join your own clothes. His fingers are heated as you lightly scratch over the trail of hair dipping into his shorts from his navel, but you only tease him and palm him through his clothes.

You’re so impatient. You unbutton his shorts clumsily and gently yank his boxers and his shorts down his thighs, always surprised that he’s almost completely hard already. But it doesn’t take much for him to get hard with you.

You spit into your hands and wrap a hand around his cock, lazily stroking him.

Jungkook’s eyes are wide, breaths staggered at the sight of your freshly painted glossy lilac nails around his cock.

“Koo,” You mumble, “So big, Koo…”

Your face is warm as you meet his darkened, lust blown eyes. Jungkook catches the sliver of determination in your own eyes as you continue to stroke him- you’re determined to have him in your mouth.

The last few times you’ve tried haven’t gone so well- every time you’d tried taking him in your mouth, you’ve always coughed and gagged heavily to the point of your eyes watering and Jungkook felt bad and told you that you didn’t have to blow him.

“You don’t- oh, baby,” Jungkook groans, biting his bottom lip and struggling not to close his eyes when you take him past your lips. You try your best to control your breathing through your nose and alternate between teasing him with kitten licks and stroking him.

You look up at him from your spot on your knees and take him a little deeper, just like he taught you. Your eyes are already watering, vision starting to go blurry but you’re nothing if not determined. Your hands are loose around his strong, muscular thighs and you squeeze.

“Like that, princess,” Jungkook mumbles, watching you with half lidded eyes, trying to stop himself from fucking your mouth.

But maybe you want that.

“More tongue, baby,” Jungkook encourages, “Don’t forget to breathe through your nose.”

You hum around his cock, the sound inadvertently causing him to thrust into your mouth. But you squeeze his thighs in encouragement, wordlessly telling him that he can fuck your mouth if he wants to.

“Mmm, you feel so good,” Jungkook moans, hand cradling your cheek and wiping a stray tear, “Look so pretty like this…”

“You can take me, princess,” Jungkook murmurs, and you take a few more inches of him down your throat without gagging, “Good girl…”

Your belly flips at his praise and you’re eager for more to spill from his pretty, reddened lips. Jungkook curses, his voice low as his thighs tremble with each stroke of your hand and each pull of your mouth. He can’t get enough of you like this, you on your knees with wide, watery eyes just for him. Just for him.

His dream girl.

Jungkook abruptly pushes you away from his cock, saliva trailing from your lips with a pop! You look at him in confusion but he unbuttons your shorts quickly and tugs your panties away, hardly appreciating the new pretty purple panties you’d bought specifically for this trip. You hardly have an opportunity to pout about it, before he sharply kisses you, molding his hips to yours.

He swipes his hand over your pussy, getting a feel for your wetness. You’re so wet already, just from kissing him and from having his cock in your mouth.

Jungkook groans into your neck, biting your skin lightly and you gasp when he slides into your wet warmth easily. Wrapping your legs around his waist and reaching behind him to squeeze his ass, you kiss moans of his name into his heated skin.

“Koo,” You mumble raspily, breath hitching when he stills inside you, “I want you-”

“Gonna take care of you, my dream girl,” Jungkook says softly, cupping your face. Your heart stutters in your chest at the sincerity of his kiss, the stars in his eyes and the adoration in his touch.

Something sweet is at the tip of your tongue but you swallow it down, instead losing yourself in his touch along your hips, your tits, your thighs. Anywhere he can reach you.

Jungkook presses his forehead to yours and rocks into you, again and again and again.

“One more, princess,” Jungkook says hoarsely, thumbing away your stray tears, “Gimme one more-”

You whine but it quickly turns into a broken moan of his name when he gently rolls his hips into yours and rubs your clit with his thumb. Your eyes are glazed over but focused on him, a thin sheen of sweat coated over your soft skin.

“I can’t…” You mumble, wrapping your arm around his shoulders and turning your face to the side. But you both know that you can. Jungkook’s eyes dip to the place where you’re both connected in between your legs and marvels at your puffy pussy. You widen your legs further despite the slight soreness already settling in for him to get a better look. His fingers ghost over your pussy and you shiver at the oversensitivity that his mere touch brings.

“Yes, baby, you can,” Jungkook says softly, “Nice and slow, just like this.”

“O-okay,” You reply, tipping your chin up for a kiss. You feel like jelly, like you’re floating on a cloud, with Jungkook right by your side. When you finally do cum, with soft, sinful murmurs of his voice in your ear, it’s quiet and warm. Leaving you buzzing from head to toe.

You clench around him, the feeling of his cock inside you becoming almost too much to bear. But you don’t want him to pull out, just yet. After all, your baby hasn’t cum and you can feel how hard he is.

“Koo,” You murmur, threading your nails up and down his very defined back, “Baby, you feel so good, make me feel so good…”

You won’t lie, sometimes the dirty talk feels clumsy to you as it comes out of your mouth. You think Jungkook is better at it than you are, and you’ve told him that, too. He only denies it.

You pull him down closer to you, your breath fanning across his cheeks. You squeeze around him despite your own sensitivity and he groans out loud, eyes closed. Jungkook sits you up and brings you into his lap with his cock still inside of you, throbbing with the need to cum.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers gentle against his scalp. You lean forward and nip his earlobe, giggling when his hips stutter. Your mischievous touch dips down his chest, scratching at his navel.

Jungkook abruptly cums into the condom, possibly harder than he ever has, with your gentle, feathery touches and your soft murmurs in his ear. He moans your name and holds you close, arms tight around you and keeping you plastered against his chest as he rides his high out.

“Holy shit,” You breathe with a slow smile. Jungkook hums and lays you on your back, laying with you for a second before pulling out of you and discarding the condom on shaky legs. You’d make a comment about how cute his ass looks, but you’re too tired to. You get cozy under the covers, watching him flit around the room with sleepy eyes.

It’s hardly ten AM and you’re ready to go back to sleep.

You must have drifted off at some point, because Jungkook is wrapped around you, his head on your chest. He’d cleaned you up, too and you drowsily kiss his forehead before slipping back to sleep.

After all, the rest of the weekend is still yours. Work doesn’t begin in Tokyo until Monday.

tags: @koo-zy

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

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fanfiction-inc · 3 years

Text

“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

Verse: Falcon And The Winter Soldier / Captain America And The Winter Soldier / Captain America: Civil War/ Marvel Alternate Universe

Characters/Pairings: Baron Zemo/ Reader, Baron Zemo/ Female Reader, John Walker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8971

Warnings/Tags: Drinking, smut, m/f, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, Google translated translations, Walker is an asshole and just keeps getting worse.

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo, world renowned racer and your sworn enemy on the track. You two have been going at it for years now, but now you two must join forces to fight back against John Walker, a new up and coming racer who is proving to beat both of you. Will you two survive the other or meet your demise on the track?

Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32606833/chapters/81176392?view_adult=true

This is a mess. An absolute, blazing mess that sits before you in the middle of your workshop. The chassis was dented all to Hell, a new one having to be rebuilt and delivered to fix your custom car. The engine had parts missing that were left at the crash sight when it was towed away. One car to your name, and it was fucked up. Maybe you should have taken Stark’s sponsorship and invested in a backup. Sitting on the cement floor of the workshop, screwdriver in hand as you pry out bits and pieces of parts from the engine, taking note of the parts and working on the budget you had set out for this year's series of races, you dreaded the moment you’d see the total cost. This repair would take a nice chunk, but you still had money left over after to make sure your car was at its best. That was the thing about working with your car, it was just you and this beast of metal and speed, working as one to reach the end of the line. The screwdriver is set down at your side when you struggled too long on getting the broken interconnecting rod that links the turbine from the compressor, a sigh following as you sit back. A slow sense of dread fills you as you look at the broken parts scattering the ground, the missing parts on your list, and the purple paint that still streaks the busted carbon fiber chassis.

Working with Zemo was a dangerous game, which you recognized even before you shook on the arrangement he had proposed. He was wicked on the course, predictable at times but at others a ticking time bomb of what his next move may be. He was dangerous, but that is what made him damn good. He took far more risk than you usually would when it came to advancement in the race. Where you held back, he pushed forward. No wonder the man infuriated you. But this plan was the only thing you had to get things back to normal, back to the way they were where you hated Zemo with a passion and fought tooth and nail to stay better than him. You would never admit it, but without your rival, what fun was the race? See, it's not only the thrill of the chase between the driver and death, inching closer and closer with each hairpin turn and the risk of the other driver's moves. No, it’s also the thrill of having someone who wants to win just as bad as you, who is just as good and will do anything to try and progress further than you. It sets a standard, something to surpass, something to stay on level ground with when you catch yourself falling. Zemo was your equal, no matter how much you hated him. And equals like you two don’t have room for a third party to jump in and surpass. The game isn’t any fun when someone fucks with the rules. He had a point when it came to beating Walker down, especially since the man was already fighting you both with molotov cocktails and rocket fire in the form of playing dirty on the track. He was bringing a war to a battle just to see if he could come out on top. Despite everything telling you to stay away from Zemo and not get involved in this scheme, that it could end badly for one or both of you, you couldn’t stand the idea of having Walker walk all over you like some doormat. You couldn’t let him walk in as if he owned the place and could rule as he pleased.

He needed a reality check.

Your form pops and cracks as you stand, stiff from sitting on the solid ground and stretching to relieve your body of the tension. Everything felt so wrong, and you knew you had to make it right...But was this the right way to do it? “Jesus, you sound like that rice cereal with the little elves. You know, snap, crackle, and pop?” You laugh lightly when your friend comes into the workshop, food in hand and dressed down from the usual luxury attire he wore when visiting. No suit and tie in sight, just the oil stained wife beater you had seen him in when pursuing your education in the states as he worked tirelessly on his little toys as you liked to call them. He sets the bag down, the scent of the food causing your stomach to growl and pinch with a hint of pain. Have you really forgotten to eat today? You hadn’t noticed. “Got your favorite. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that speaks English? I had to have Friday translate for me.”

“Maybe you should take a new hobby and learn the French language.” You retorted with a grin, the man shaking his head as he sets everything out. “Maybe I want you as my teacher, but you’re always busy with driving around in your fast little car and getting famous for fighting a Sokovian asshole.”

“And you’re too busy tinkering away with your toys in your little workshop in New York. Truly Tony, don’t tell me you actually want me as your teacher when your toys can teach you for me.” You pause as he rolled his eyes, watching the man for a brief moment as he turned to unwrap his burger. “Speaking of said Sokovian connard, he came to the bar I was at last night.” The man paused mid bite on the thick patty before speaking with his mouth full. “Okay, spill, what did he want?”

“Well originally I thought he was going to cuss me and try to blame me for the failure to complete the race yesterday, but he showed me something. You know the young man who won the race yesterday, corriger? John Walker?”

“Yeah, I know the guy. Races for the American McLaren team and came straight from F3 to F1. What’d he do?”

He raises a brow when you sigh, taking a seat beside him on the desk he had set the food down on and stealing the dish he had brought you. “Zemo showed me proof that Walker hit his car and sent him flying into mine. And I believe he did it on purpose.” You explain, taking a bite of the food your companion got for you. You pause for a moment to chew before returning to your theory. “On my way to the car bay, he smirked at me, and it wasn’t a “I won” smirk- well, it kinda was, but it was rather a “I did this to you” kind of smirk. Not necessarily an evil one but one that showed he knew exactly what he had done and was proud of it. Pride in an unfair act.”

“And no flags were thrown up?”

“Non, not a one. As our friend the Baron said,” you cringe at the term friend, “the ones watching the race possibly couldn’t tell if he had done such on purpose or by accident. I believe him about such. And I suppose that brings me to what I’m about to say next.” You take a breath, gaze conflicted and downcast to your food as you speak. “The Baron offered a temporary truce of our rivalry to take down this John Walker, thus allowing us to return to what we do best after Walker is taken down.” He listened intently before his nose scrunched at the idea of such. You two working together? Ha! That’d never work! “And you said yes to this crazy idea? What the Hell are you thinking, (first name)?” Your hands shoot up in defense, gaze rising to meet his own. “I know, I know! It’s a crazy idea, but you know as well as I do that if Zemo and I want things back to normal, back to the rivalry, we have to do this together so Walker is met with further resistance. If I could avoid it and deal with this American scum, no offense, then I would.”

“Some taken, but I get it. I just wonder if you two will go back to the way things are after all of this. Who knows, maybe you’ll become that dreaded word you hate to associate with him in any capacity-”

“Ne t'avise pas de le dire, Anthony.”

“Friendssss.” He draws it out, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics and slap his arm with the back of your grimey hand. He pretended to show a hurt expression before chuckling when another slap came, this time to his chest. “Oh hush, we will never be friends.”

“I guess time will tell.” A shrug followed as Stark finished the last bite of his burger, crumbling the wrapper and lining up the shot with the waste bin in the corner. “He shoots,” the paper lands in the bin, his arms going up in the air. “He scores!”

“Stop goofing around, ma amie. I asked for your help with this and now I need it.”

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

Three weeks have passed, and the Germany race is upon you. The Nürburgring, a beast of a track that many racers to this day in Formula 1 fear like a plague sweeping the track. Your mind has been racing as you pieced your car back together and got it ready for racing. What happens if something wasn’t installed in the engine right? What if you didn’t get the intake vents lined up just right? You were a perfectionist with your car, and you know deep down that it was ready for race day but it made your head sing with pain as a migraine sets in. That wasn’t the only thing that made it throb and bring you to lean against the chassis of your car. Zemo’s deal, it worried you sick. But you didn’t have time to think about it much today. You couldn’t dwell on it. You had a race to win.

Your eyes flick up at the speakers, listening to the message. It was press conference time. You take your seat where your name tag and flag set, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the crowd of reporters sitting and waiting to open up questioning. To your left, Walker seats himself with a boyish, charming smile that didn’t quite meet those dark eyes. He looked your way, hand held out to you. “Hey, I hate that we didn’t get to meet earlier on. I’m John Walker.” You glance at his hand before looking back up at him. He played a good game, acting innocent like the boy scout he tried to be. You wouldn’t fall for his games, but you shook his hand briefly. “(First name) (Last name).” He grinned. “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve been watching you race for years now! I hate that you crashed a couple weeks ago, would have loved to have been standing on that podium with you.”

“Oui, such a shame that was. But today is a new day, Mr. Walker.” Your gaze flickered to your right, startled by your rival taking his seat and looking directly at the pair of you. The Baron never sat beside you, even going as far as to request a seat change from the press conference coordinators. Some learned to keep you two separate, others knew it would incur drama, and drama made money.

“Alright everyone, please take your seats and the conference will begin in one moment!”

“Say, did you get your car all fixed up? Must have cost a pretty penny since you don’t have any sponsors.” Walker continued on, this time his gaze looking at the reporters as he gave a brief wave to the ones he recognized from the states. “Oui.” He gave a huff of a laugh. “Not much of a talker, are you?” You wanted to bite back, to say something and throw hands with this man, but you would be escorted out and disqualified in a snap. “Non.” A leg bumped yours under the table and you glance at Zemo who met your gaze briefly. Those dark brown eyes questioned if you were okay, a silent question that only you understood. The slightest nod was sent his way before looking at the reporters who got things settled and ready.

“Questions are now open-” The announcer was startled with the amount of questions directed in the direction of you three, clearing his throat as he nodded to your little trio at the table. Mr. Walker!” He gestured to the reporter, watching him stand and adjust his microphone and camera. “Mr. Walker, this question is open to the three of you. Under allegations from the previous race at The Circuit Paul Ricard, many are wondering if you had caused the accident involving Zemo and (Last name). How do you feel about these accusations?” The man had the audacity to laugh and throw that boyish smile to the camera, rubbing at his face. “Look, that was not supposed to happen once so ever. As many of my fellow racers can attest, one wrong slip of the hand on your wheel and your car will eventually go off track. I got nervous, twitched, and just so happened to bump the Baron’s car into Ms. (Last name)’s car. I feel terrible, I truly do, but it could have happened to anyone with any driver. So I refute these accusations and continue to say this is an accident.”

“And you, Baron, Ms. (Last name). How do you feel about the accusations?” The reporter gestured his question to you two now. “I respect your opinion, Mr. Walker,” Zemo began, the man smiling and sending a nod his way. “But I call, as the Americans say, bullshit.” His smile fell, darkened gaze questioning the man on what the Hell he was going on about. The reporters erupted in questioning, trying to get the attention of the two racers who stare each other down around you. You lean back a bit for them to have a better view-line, One of the American reporters calling your name. You use this moment to break the tension. “Oui?”

“Do you believe you stand a chance as a woman against these two leading men now that John Walker is starting to gain points and nearing your total?” You blink at his question before taking a deep breath, holding it to calm your throbbing head, and releasing it slowly. “Oui, I do. I believe I can keep up just as well as any racer. Take my racing career with Zemo. I have kept up with his old extrémité arrière.” The French reporters in the room resound in a fit of chuckles, bringing a smile to your face. “And against Walker?” You meet his gaze as he stares at you expectantly for an answer, forcing that smile he tried to use on you earlier. “I believe I stand quite a good chance, but que le meilleur coureur gagne.” You shrug, listening as the smaller drivers get asked their questions. The whole time there are eyes burning into the left side of your head, waiting until the racers are dismissed. Walker watches you as you walk out, watching the way Zemo comes up in tow as you make your way to the car bay. Something was up, and he could feel that there were clearly doubts in your mind about the accident in France. He would just have to deal with you later. “(First name), wait!” Zemo followed you into the bay, slowing from his jog to keep up with you to a stop near the desk holding your notes about the race and your vehicle. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you in person since the bar.” He paused, looking into those eyes of yours that gaze at him curiously. “Are you ready for this, fräulein?”

“Aussi prêt que possible, Baron.” You busy yourself with inspecting your car for any last minute changes, the man watching you as you inspect and work. “Good, good. And we are still a go, yes?”

“Oui, we are still, as you said, a go.” He grinned at you, gaze flickering down your back as he looked over your uniform. Of course he had noticed you in all aspects before, talent and skill being the top, but never had he been this close like the night at the bar and now to really see you. Maybe after all of this, even with the rivalry, you could be friends, dare he say anything more than such. “You’re staring.” You quip, breaking him from his trance to meet your gaze. The faintest hint of color lingered on your cheeks. He coughed, trying to clear away the embarrassment lingering in his form. Why was he getting embarrassed? “Just thinking about what will be left behind when I pass you on the track, mein liebe.” Your eye roll doesn’t go unnoticed, the man relaxing due to how calm you are around him. No biting his head off, no anger, just chill. You stand and give a playful shove to his shoulder, smiling at the Sokovian. “In your dreams, Sokovian. Now, get the fuck out of my car bay.” He smiled to himself as he walked away, mind now clouded by the smile that lingered on your lips. He liked when you smiled, and he had to make sure this plan worked.

The race was gearing up to start, the same process as before coming into play. Car, balaclava, wheel. You take your moment to breathe, today your speed has placed you in second, just as the plan entailed. Zemo took the first position. He glanced your way, sending a nod in your direction, only to smirk beneath the balaclava when you flip him off like usual. The rivalry was still on, no matter what he would still have that after dealing with Walker. Still have you in one sense or another. Your glance focused in on the man across the way in the pole position opposite of you, his eyes locked on the two of you before meeting your gaze. There he stares you down, even as his helmet slipped on. The visor was flipped down at the one minute warning, eliminating the final clarifying view of his gaze. It was clear he was cautious of you, maybe even lingering with hate.

“Fahrer! Starten...sie ihre....Motoren!

That familiar purr settles into your chest, spreading through your body like a dam breaking and flooding the valley below. It stirs up the motivation to win once more, removing any doubt from your mind as you rev your engine. Zemo was right, Walker had to be stopped. With this attitude about racing, playing his little mind games and wrecking racers, he’d get someone killed just for first place. You couldn’t allow that...but you also couldn’t allow the rivalry you have established with Zemo to be broken because of someone else. There was too much there to be lost. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, licking your lips beneath the helmet as you prepare yourself for takeoff. The lights start counting down the race. Five seconds away, one green and two red lights. You watch them count down until the bottom lines of red are fully lit, then they flash off. You’re off, following Zemo right on the tail of his car as you start into the track. This track was a beast, your mind racing as it remembers every nook and cranny of it. Seventy three corners, eleven danger points, hair pin turns, all on a 12.8 mile long course that was deadly in the onset of any weather and people who get careless with their moves. Lucky enough, the sky was only overcast. No rain, little wind to interfere with the aerodynamics and mobility of the chassis, just the perfect chill in the air to remind you where you were in this moment. You take your turns with ease, avoiding the group of cars that began to follow suit on the track behind your own. Your eyes remained locked in on every shift to your side, Walker keeping close by within each turn and danger point you went through.

As you drive, Walker gets up past you within one of the speed trap areas, the stretch of road allowing him to be up beside Zemo and leave you on the back of their tires. Zemo had a plan, you believed in this plan… but had he just been toying with you to get closer to Walker? Doubt clouded your mind, even as you sped up in an attempt to join the boys directly in the front. Perhaps you shouldn’t have followed this plan, even as you get through the first twenty five laps, then the next twenty five. Each turn brought your tyres closer to Walkers who eyed you cautiously from time to time, as if silently daring you to pull a move like he did. Maybe you’d be caught and black flagged. Hell, that would make his fucking day if that happened. As he watched you, he had failed to notice on the wider strip of the track how Zemo began to drift further and further ahead. Then he was side tracked, Zemo slowing abruptly and stealing the attention of the young American driver. “What the Hell!?” He yelled over the roar of multiple motors, watching your car join Zemo’s side and the original speed be resumed. Now you sat beside Zemo on the track, pedal to the floorboard as you two kept your lead and basically walled Walker in. Each time he tried to drift around, one of you would shift your car just enough to keep him locked in. A grin met your lips as you drove, the energy of the race taking a whole new shift as you got closer and closer to the last lap with your rival right at your side. Tips of the chassis lined up perfectly, rear aerodynamic fins aligned like a well oiled machine. You two were in perfect sync as you put Zemo’s plan into action. Create a wall of impenetrable magnitude. If Walker tried anything, all three of you would go down. If he tried to get around, he would be blocked. There was no getting out from behind you two.

The checkered flag waved in the quickly approaching distance, your gaze for a moment looking at your rival. The blur of purple was steady, lined with yours like that of an air jet's flight coordination. Perfectly straight, and running at full throttle like you are. As your cars pass the finish line, debate begins to rise. It was too close in the end to call, at least not right away. You slow, allowing the purple beast to pass by and enter the pit before you, a silent gesture of courtesy to the man you worked with. He sent a small nod your way when he watched you get out of your car, helmet removed along with his balaclava and revealing the joyful grin resting on his lips. Anyone else would mistaken it for cockiness, but the look in his eyes said it all. You two did it, you beat Walker in the race! He must be furious! A breath is held on your end, helmet and the fabric covering your face discarded as you turn your gaze away from the arriving racers and the man you drove along with. You were locked in on that score board, curiosity eating at you for who may have won the race. You were neck in neck with the man, the smallest push forward could earn either of you the points for the day. No names shown yet, and you anxiously leaned on the hot surface of the carbon fiber vehicle as you waited. Each noise around you from the slow dwindle of engines to low, fading purrs to the pit crews of your respective teams surrounding you, your rival, and the newcomer were drowned out by the pounding of your heart as it flooded your ear drums. It felt like hours passed as you kept your gaze locked on, ignoring the happy clamour of your crew, the clasp of hands on your shoulder and pats on your back, even down to the ruffling of your hair in glee. Then it flashed up.

1st: (First initial). (Last name)

1st: H. Zemo

2nd: J. Walker

The press goes crazy over the news, each respective country reporting their amazement over the finishing results.

“Ein fehlerfreier, aber überraschender Sieg für Baron Helmut Zemo, der mit (First name) (Last name) gleichauf den ersten Platz belegt!”

“Victoire pour la championne de France (First name) (Last name) alors qu'elle rejoint le Baron Helmut Zemo dans une rare égalité!”

“In a remarkable and truly unprecedented event in The Nürburgring F1 race! Baron Helmet Zemo and (First name) (Last name) tied in a photo finish for first place, a rare occurrence that has set back American racer John Walker from the potential for first place!”

Your breath comes out shaky, slowly slipping out as reality hits you like a wrecking ball to a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs as a happy noise rings out from your lips, joining your crew in the celebration as they hug and surround you. You placed first. Zemo placed first. Curiosity met you, your gaze looking to the man who celebrated with his own crew before allowing himself a chance to settle his gaze on you in turn. There he sent a wink, a silent congratulations that made you shake your head at his antics before refocusing on the celebration. You would be standing with the man in first place on that podium, both sharing the victory wreath and spraying champagne all over the crowd of fans and your respective pit crews who were basking in the glory just as much as you two were. You couldn’t help the glee bubbling up in your form, even as you make your way not too far from your rival. For a second, just a split second, you let the rivalry go and let your smile be seen in accompaniment with his gleeful grin, shoulders bumping when you’re positioned at the podium by the F1 management crew. Press swarm to the area like flies to a summer barbecue, wanting to catch a glimpse of the rivals standing together, being on the podium and sharing first place. “Not so bad working with my, as you put it earlier, old extrémité arrière, hm?” He questioned as you two stood together, the closeness you two were forced into for the photographers far more comfortable than it would have been under any other circumstances. He blamed the feelings he had at this moment on the victory over Walker, over the rest of the racers, not even thinking that perhaps this was beyond the fact that he won but that you, his favorite rival, won alongside him. “Non, not the worst.” You joked lightly, forcing a serious face for the cameras when they began to picture you two side by side on the first place stand. He accepted the bottle of champagne before you could, holding it out. “You may have the honor, (First name).” Your fingers brush his own as you grasp the bottle with him, popping the cork and sending the bubbly to decorate the crowd. Flash after flash met you as you stood alongside Zemo and basked in the glory of the win. “How about drinks to celebrate? Even as rivals, I believe a drink wouldn’t hurt.” He whispered the question, causing your gaze to lock on his own in brief surprise. Was he serious!? “I um..Oui, sure. Meet you in town?” He nods, gaze seeming to glimmer ever so brighter as he takes his leave. Even when you separate to get cleaned of the alcohol and switch to “civilian clothing”, your smile doesn’t falter. Maybe it would be good for you to drink the night away with company that didn’t seem as bad as you once had thought before.

As you begin to peel away the racing suit, the flame resistant material bunching at your waist and revealing the open expanses of your back, the simplistic bra strap over the back the only material seen, you fail to hear the seething man enter your car bay. “Do you know what you just did, Ms. (Last name)? Who you fucked with?” Walker puts his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him, his face inches away from yours. “You went and fucked with the wrong man. You could have just accepted your loss, licked your wounds, and we would have been just fine. But oh no, you had to go and fuck with my winning streak with that Sokovian piece of shit.” He huffed when you shove him back, gaze narrowed and arms crossing over your bra covered chest out of annoyance. You could care less what he saw. “I don’t see why you’re so mad, Mr. Walker. You got a taste of your own medicine after that stunt you pulled back in France. You and I both know that was no accident.”

“You know what? Yeah, I did that. But I see you are working with Zemo now, which is also a big no-no in Formula 1. Seems we’re both sinners of the race. The greed of it.” His tone was a hushed, harsh whisper. There was no need to alert anyone that he was in your private quarters harassing you. “I’m nothing like you.” Your tone came out in a hiss, his downturned lips curving up into a grin at your response. “Oh sweetheart, I beg to differ.” He chuckled at the narrowed gaze he was met with. “You and your Sokovian boy toy need to back off. Let this happen like it should or you’ll not like what happens next.”

“And just what do you think you’ll do, John? Because all I’m hearing right now is a lot of talking with no proof of any big execution.” Your lazy grin and scoff of annoyance at his presence left him to raise his hands in mock defeat, hands coming to rest on your shoulders once more with a harsh grip that made your body tense and hold you there. He leaned in, even as you tried to lean away, his lips moving in close near your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” His tone alone makes your body betray you, the calm, cool, and collected front slipping as a shiver ran up your spine at his warning. And with that, he leaves you to get dressed for the night.

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

Zemo texts you an address for a bar off the beaten path in Cologne, Germany, further than you had anticipated in going from the track but a welcomed change of scenery. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” The words stick with you, even as you drive the main road into the big city, looking for the bar Zemo had invited you to. It was connected to a hotel, a fancy hotel at that, with old architecture and lavish exterior. You could only imagine the interior! A nervous breath is taken as you get out of the car, gaze meeting the man you had just won with. He smiled at you, clothing casual and the air around him feeling far more comforting now than ever. The incident with Walker had left you rattled, sending your nerve endings to buzz and let your body know that you aren’t okay. Even though you felt off, you force a smile to the man who wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulders and led you in to sit at the quiet bar. “So, did I not tell you the plan would work?”

“I just thought it was your cockiness talking, but I will admit, though it physically pains me to do so…” You pause, biting your lip. “Well?” You sigh. “You were right.” The words come out struggled and forced, the man's grin growing at such. “Ah~, I don’t believe I caught that.” “Oh va te faire foutre!” He chuckled at your words, hand raised towards the bartender to get you drinks. “What are you ordering?”

“Shots. We deserve something to toast our victory to, and I don’t believe champagne is your drink of choice.” He offered you one of the smaller glasses, his own raised before him as he locks those bright brown eyes with your own. “Ein Prost! To us, and our victory over John Walker. May that American schwein taste defeat again.” You raise your glass, hoping to drink away any thoughts about Walker's warning and leave it for the next day. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided right then and there that you would finally have fun and disregard the night that you sat across from your rival. Tonight you just wanted to drink. “À la vôtre!” The drink is bitter as it hits your throat and travels down your body, causing a warmth to spread soon after. Kuemmerling, a bitter concoction of herbaceous and bittersweet flavors. A drink of choice for Zemo it seemed because soon after the shots were downed, he ordered another round.

Shot after shot after shot is taken down until your body is leaning against his own and a joke that is shaky at best from his part sends you into a roar of laughter. He holds you close, laughing right along with you. “So... It’s Barenjar?” He snorts at your piss poor pronunciation of the new liquor joining the mix, shaking his head at you as he looks on with drunken vision. “Nien, nien, Bärenjäger. Say it with me. Bä-”

“Bä-”

“Ren-”

“Jäger!”

“Mick Jagger?”

He laughs in defeat, shaking his head as he watched you. So relaxed, so calm. He hasn’t seen you like this before in his life. He’s startled by your sudden movements after downing your last shot for the night, catching you as you try to stand and stumble as your feet betray you. Your body landing against his, his arms slotting themselves around your waist as your drunken gaze catches his own. Those brown eyes of his are hypnotizing, keeping your gaze locked on his own. “I have something to confess, (First name).” He paused to wet his lips, trying to piece the words together in his hazy mind. “I have liked you since the day I met you.” He finally blurts out, fingers moving up to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes. “You’re infuriating, yet calming. Stubborn and determined. Your smile is lovely and those eyes…” He trails off, leaving your hazy mind questioning what was going to come after, but you hardly have time to think about it as he pressed in closer, face inches from your own. The smell of Bärenjäger and Kuemmerling lingered on his breath as it fanned over your face, those brown eyes searching for something in your own. “Can you feel it, the connection we have? Can you see that we are not just rivals now?” His tone was just barely above a whisper, questioning you with a hint of desperation to his tone.

“Oui.”

That was the only answer he needed. His lips are on yours with fever and desperation, hands clinging to your form for dear life after hearing the words that sent him to fully fall into the feeling of you. You were his comfort, the one constant thing in his life. His rival...but right now you were the woman he sloppily kissed at the hotel bar as the bartender tried to catch his attention to tell you that you both were cut off for the night. His hands moved to grip at your thigh and tangle in your hair, abandoning the idea of holding anything back, the liquor giving him courage to make a move on you. He has wanted to do this for years, touch you, feel you, have you there with him in any way he could. He separated only when the threat of security was offered by the bartender, lips kiss swollen and a faint pant falling from them. “Come.” His hand takes hold of yours, leading you along to the lift and up to his room for the night. This hotel that he called home for the time being would serve well for what he had in mind to do to you. He led you inside, not even waiting for the door to close as he captured your lips once more, hands taking your rear in his grasp and hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around him, back pressed up against the closest wall he could find. He held you there, lips separating to begin trailing hungry kisses down the column of your throat and allow his hands to trace along your sides. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the bare skin there, wanting what he has longed for since the day he met you. A noise fell from your lips as he lazily suckled a mark over your pulse point, your fingers tangling into his dark hair and tugging the locks when his hips grounded against your own. He couldn’t help the fire blooming in his body, needy for the creature that has teased him for all these years, The one he thought he would never have a chance with because of their hate for each other on the track. He needed you, and in your current state, you were willing to accept any touch he offered. He was just Helmut Zemo tonight. Not your rival, not the Baron, just Helmut. And you were his (First name).

A groan left his lips when you pulled him by his hair away from your neck, hands working to take your shirt up and over your head. Throwing it aside, he looked at you with a gaze of admiration. It was similar to the gaze he gave when looking at the new modifications to his car, taking pride in the beauty of things that drove him to win. He dampens his lips, fingers lazily dragging up the expanses of your back from bottom to top, resting on the clasp of the garment covering your breast. “Darf ich?” Your nod was all he needed, the clasp undone with skilled fingers that knew precision, holding still on your back when your arms rose to take the garment and throw it in an unknown direction to be forgotten about for the time being. He wasted no time with taking one of your breasts in hand, fingers running over the sensitive bud of one while he took the other in his mouth, suckling and lavishing with his tongue. He took his time, drunken yet slowly sobering mind savoring each and every noise that fell from your lips as he toyed with your body. You’re barely into foreplay and he already has your panties soaked, the Baron being a creature that knows exactly what buttons to push to get you going without even knowing your body. He was skilled, that much was for sure in your mind as he switched to the other breast, paying equal attention to each. Those brown eyes of his don’t leave your face for a second, watching every reaction and trying to commit them to memory. If he could only have you tonight, he wanted to remember everything he possibly could. Every detail of your body, everything that drew a hitched breath or a low moan from your lips. Every shaky breath and the way your body would press closer to his greedy mouth and hand. He stored it all away. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and fancy this a pleasant dream...It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten worked up by thinking about you.

His hand traveled downward, cupping your sex through your pants as his own grinds up against your thigh, straining through the fabric of his pants. He ached for you, for your heated skin to be pressed against his own in a delicious rut of bodies. He traced along the seam, hearing the low whine that fell from your lips as he teased you through the material. “Helmut, stop for a moment.” The man paused all actions, his gaze shifted to a worried state as he met your eyes and spoke with concern. “Are you alright, mein liebling?”

“Oui.” Your fingers trace his jaw, the man's face briefly pressing in against your palm before delivering a soft kiss to the area. A tender gesture that sent butterflies to flutter in your stomach and heart to speed further than the foreplay had already caused. “I just...Take me to the bedroom. Please?” You preferred not being right beside the door where anyone could listen in, where anyone could hold a camera up to the peephole and record the sexual pleasures of the infamous Wildcard and Baron. That would make a top headline, wouldn’t it? He gave a chuckle at your demand, nodding as he kept his grip on you, your legs wrapping just a hint tighter around him as he moved you both to the bedroom. He’s gentle with setting you down, looking down at you when you unwrap your arms and legs from his form. “Scheiße, du bist perfekt.” He slowly worked on the buttons of his shirt, working each plastic piece through the loop with fingers that were known for precision on the course. A shift in his steering, taking hold of the semi-automatic paddle-shifters as he drove, it was all well calculated and that applied on and off the track. His shirt is shrugged off his shoulders, thrown aside before focusing on the belt on his pants. He gets it off with what can only be deemed a darkening gaze, knowing he’s getting closer and closer to having you. You rose to let your hands trail his chest, roaming over the lean muscle that rested there as feather light kisses met his collarbone. A shiver met his spine, shooting up in bliss as he allowed a moment to savor the feeling of you touching his skin. Your skin was so warm, so inviting. He was getting lost in everything.

Your fingers shift down his torso, trailing his abdomen before looping in the belt loops of his pants to pull him forward, a low growl falling from his lips when you place a kiss above the waistline of his pants. Your movements were confident, unzipping his trousers and tugging them down to reveal the tent hidden behind his underwear. He swallowed thickly as he kicked his pants off, watching your every move as you cup him through the thin fabric, thumb moving to brush over the leaking tip and cause a shaky breath to leave him. “Maus-” A groan leaves his lips when a jerk through the fabric is given, his head falling back briefly. He huffed when you repeated the motion, fingers anxious to wrap around his bare flesh and feel that hot skin in the palm of your hand. But he stops you, hand wrapping around your own and bringing it to his lips once more. “Tonight is not about me, maus.” You’re surprised when the man placed his hand on your chest, lightly pushing you back to lay on the bed as he slowly sank down onto his knees, ”Es geht nur um dich.’ His lips drag slowly across your skin, trailing light kisses and nips along your abdomen and resting at the waist of your pants. He glanced up, a silent question of courtesy offered your way as his fingers loop in the band, asking permission like a proper gentleman. “Go ahead.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, his presence making you feel like you’re floating higher and higher on this ride with him. He gave a tug, your rear lifting and back arching to aid the man as he pulled your pants down and let them fall to join the scattered articles around the room. You’d have to go on a damn scavenger hunt just to find your clothes! But none of that mattered now, not when his hot breath is fanning over your needy core and face nuzzling at your thighs. He placed a kiss to your inner thigh before another followed, then another as he began to trail inward towards your covered core. “Aufgeregt?” He purred in questioning, a low rumble of a chuckle coming from deep within his chest spilling out at the small nod he is met with, loving how he has left you damn near speechless just by being so close. Your hips jump back before he gets a grip on them, his tongue moving over the wet fabric and causing a light whine to spill from your lips. “Helmut, please.” Oh, hearing you speak his name only egged him on further, needing you. He needed to taste you, to feel you. He needed you in every way, and his drunken mind only pushed him on to pull the fabric away from your legs and stare at the glory that is you. So wet, so beautiful. He wasted no more time, bringing your legs to hook over his shoulders and delved into the intoxicating honey pot he had been offered. He started off slowly, a long lap from entrance to clit given before the motion was repeated just to hear the noise that left your lips with each swipe. Zemo was mapping you out, taking note of what areas made your thighs twitch and tense, what areas made your hips jump back at the sensitivity of his touch, and what made those oh so delicious noises spill from your mouth.

He allows his tongue to focus in on your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves in a rhythm that sends your head to spin and moan after moan to spill from your lips. “Merde!” He smirked against your core when your hand shot down to tangle in his locks, needing stability after he took your clit between his lips and suckled. He repeats the motion, gaze locked on your own and watching the sudden shock of the feeling run through your body. You were so reactive, and just for him. A lazy lick is given to the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your hips jerk lightly and seeing the tremble that began to settle into your thighs. “Close?” He questioned as if he was questioning about an everyday thing, totally not giving the impression he was getting you close to orgasm just with that sinful tongue and lips of his. O-Oui.” Your tone was shaky, breathy, eyes half lidded and watching his every move on you. “Gut.” A gasp fell from your lips when he sank a digit into your hot, needy core, arching along the way and searching for the sweet spot deep within. He wasn’t like the inexperienced boys who would just jab their fingers into their partner and hope it hits something. No, his fingers curled, probed, dragged and felt for that spot in a way that showed his experience. A second digit is added not too long after the first, probing the flesh within until he hears your moan and finds that spot that drives you to clamp your thighs around his head. A groan left his lips at the rush of slick is met with each probe, massaging that spot within you and only adding to the tension building in your core. Each throb he was met with only spurred him on. He was on a mission to bring you over the edge, and he would do anything to get you off. When his mouth returned to your still sensitive clit, tongue flicking of the bundle and including the occasional suckle while his fingers moved deep within, you were done for. A rough tug is given to his hair as your body convulses, thighs clamping around him and grinding your hips down against his eager tongue. He helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your clit until you give a light shove to his head to make him stop. A wicked smile crosses his features as he gives one final suckle, a squeak leaving your lips at the motion and shoving him back as much as your trembling body allows. He can only chuckle at the attempt, fingers removing from your throbbing core. He watched your gaze land on him when you caught sight of the digits, watching the man move his glance to them as if he was inspecting them before a quiet whimper left your lips when they were taken one by one into his mouth. He made it a show, teasing you as he cleaned each digit of your juices in a slow motion. Sinking down to the knuckle before returning and licking at whatever was left. “Tease.” You huffed, chest rising and falling steadily with your hammering heart. “Oh you know you like it.” He retorted, lazily letting his body climb up and over yours on the plush mattress.

He pushed the final material separating you from him away, throwing the underwear away before letting himself settle in against your body. Zemo wasted no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, lips joining yours as he lined up with you, one hand taking hold of your hip while the other took hold of your hair, tugging it back enough to have access to your neck. As he begins to ease himself within you, his lips attach at a section of your neck, a harsh mark left in his wake as he sinks inch by inch within the lightly pulsing core that he toyed with before. A groan was left against your skin when he was fully settled, grip rough on your hip but movements gentle as he waited for you to adjust. He was no animal, not cruel! He knew that there was a possibility for pain if he moved too soon, and even in his drunken haze he recognized the look in your eyes, the slight twinge of pain from his size alone. The stretch wasn’t unpleasant, no, but it was an intrusion you weren’t quite used to when normally doing this. He lightly placed kisses to sooth you along the mark he left, trailing them up the underside of your chin, going along your jaw before soon connecting with your lips in a soft kiss. Something to distract you until you were ready for him to move. A shift of your hips was given when you tested the feeling of him in you, the moan that left your lips causing a low growl to fall from his own. He lifted his body to loom over yours, hand moving from your hair to cup a breast as he sets a slow, deep and even borderline sensual pace within your core. Slowly out until the tip stayed just barely in before plunging deeply into your warm, wet depths. He huffed with each push of his cock within your core, meeting your moans with a faint groan here or a soft growl there when your walls gripped him just right. He was losing composure with each faint twitch of your walls around him, pace beginning to pick up into a steady rhythm that developed the noise of slick skin hitting skin and the bed beneath to creak ever so slightly with each movement. “Verdammt!” He could tell how your walls began to tighten around him, how each noise leaving your lips grew louder and louder. His poor neighbors, hearing you both so vividly through the walls of the hotel. Yet he didn’t care who heard. As long as they knew that in this moment, you were his to take, that was all that mattered. Zemo moved his thumb to your clit, working the bundle along with the assault he laid on your sensitive spot deep within. Each clamp around him brought his own release to come closer and closer. “Cum for me, maus.” He demanded with a grunt, needing to feel you come undone to reach his own release. His words hit somewhere deep in you, the demand that was laced with a plea driving you to your second orgasm of the night. He groaned as he felt you clamp around him, the sensation alone causing him to remove himself from you and spill onto your stomach with a few quick pumps of his hand along his slick coated member. He pants, taking in the sight of you one final time for the time being. Messy, slickened by your own arousal and sweat. Your hair was messed up, your lips parted and panting. To add the cherry on top, you were coated in his release, a sight for sore eyes while you lay like this. He made you like this, and it swells his drunken ego.

Slowly he eased down to lay at your side, bringing you in against him with an almost delicate kiss delivered to your temple. Your breathing slowly evened out, head resting against his chest as his fingers trail along your back, drawing imaginary patterns as his mind begins to blank. The alcohol was taking effect, causing him to enter a lull and for his eyes to flutter shut. As you lay there, catching your breath, you watch as he drifts away, a single question beginning to enter your sobering mind.

“What have I done?”

Tag List: @darksxder | @mymagicsuitcase | @mischief-siriusly-managed | @alindeluce

#Baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #racing au #daniel brühl #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #baron zemo x reader #john walker #john walker is STILL an asshole #multichapter story #chapter 2 #“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

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samwilsonshandsandass · 3 years

Text

I Think I'm Seeing Triple

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Sam Wilson x Sam Wilson x reader x Bucky Barnes x Bucky Barnes x Bucky Barnes Summary: You just want to get settled in in your hotel room for a weekend conference, when your room is also given to two other attendees of the conference. And then something happens no one can explain and four surprise guests are also in the room Warnings: Smut, oral (f and m receiving), spanking, choking Word count: 3240 A/N: @keanureevesisbae were suffering together because of a post with four pictures each of Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan and then I had a thought and got some inspiration.

You went up to your hotel room after the first getting to know each other event at the weekend conference you had to go to. You hadn’t even put your shoes near the door when it opened and in came two other attendees. You knew who they were, had seen them all over the newspapers and also columns. Sam Wilson aka Cap and Bucky Barnes aka… he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore and you didn’t know if he wanted to claim that title to morph it into something good or if he was called something else. So, Bucky Barnes.

Before you could ask them what they did in your room, and how they got a key card when it was clearly booked, and before they stopped their bickering about who was the blanket hog, there were two flashes of golden light and from each flash tumbled a pair of men identical to the pair of men who just walked into your room. Just their clothing separated them from each other.

“Who are you?”

Sam Wilson asked and looked at someone who seemed to be his friend. Although that friend had entered the room beside him.

“I’m Bucky” The one spoken to, said.

“No, I’m Bucky!” A third version of the man said.

“And you?” The one who seemed to be the actual Sam, wanted to know.

“Sam.”

“Who am I then?”

“My less attractive twin?”

“Ha-ha.”

“So, There’s three Sams. And three Buckys. That’s not weirder than other things we were confronted with. And you are?” The Bucky who had entered the room with the first Sam questioned and looked at you.

“Y/N” You answered slowly. “And why are all of you in my hotel room?”

“We’re here because the person at the reception told us this room was available. We’re last minute additions to this weekend conference” That was one of the Buckys. He gestured to himself and one of the Sams.

“O- kay. And you four?” You looked at the seemingly identical versions of the Sam and Bucky who were supposed to be here.

“There was a flash, everything went cold and now we’re here” The third Bucky replied.

“We had something similar happening” The Sam in the middle said.

“Alright. Okay. Cool. I’ll just be blunt and say I wouldn’t have been opposed to one Sam and Bucky being in the same room for an entire weekend” You mumbled after you looked shortly to the heavens.

“You do know we’re supposed to actually attend meetings and workshops and networking events, don’t you?” The Bucky you dubbed “Bucky number one” asked you.

“Stickler for principles…” Sam number one grinned. “I know you. You’d do anything to get out of at least the networking events.”

“Of course I would! Still doesn’t change the fact networking just means getting drunk and fucking someone just for the sake of fucking someone. I’m not for that. And I can’t get drunk.”

You saw the other two Bucky’s nod in agreement.

“So, that’s the defining trait of the different Bucky’s” Sam number two smiled.

“As if you like what comes out of these events” Bucky (you couldn’t say which) grinned back.

“No, I’d cook for someone first. Be a gentleman.”

“See. And I’d take her dancing.”

You cleared your throat.

“I still don’t understand all this” You stated.

“Me neither” Bucky number three. “Maybe we could each explain the basics of yourselves.”

“Good idea. So. In this universe, my universe, you” You sat back on the bed and pointed at Sam number one, “were a para rescue and then used what you learned during that time to save the world. And you” You looked down at Bucky number one who was laying on your belly, “were a P.O.W. during World War II and then basically got turned into a human weapon and got frozen to keep your body the way they needed it to be. You were found and then, a year later in probably the technologically most advanced country on earth you finally got freed for good from it all and now use your skills for good as well. With him as your partner.” You pointed at Sam number one again.

“Wait. You had a second World War? We only had one. You know, the one from 1914 to 1918?” Bucky number two asked. “What happened in your universe?”

“The Germans thought the cure for their humiliation in Versailles could only be coped with by committing genocide and reaching for world domination.” Bucky number one explained. “And my best friend got quite big and muscle-y because of that. Why didn’t the Germans do in your universe what they did in mine?”

“Some Germans had their heads on straight. Fought back when the political landscape of 1920s Germany was close to morphing into street terror and they succeeded. They stayed a democratic country and that was that.”

“My Steve got all the muscles as well.” Bucky number three smiled. Then it fell from his face. “We actually served together, after he changed like that. When the Germans and their allies were defeated, Steve went on to train new recruits back home and I went to Korea.”

“So, you aged normally. How come you’re here now with a body like back then? And why are you also looking like that, when there even wasn’t a second world war and in theory you should’ve lived a long live and, no offence, be long underground?” You wondered and looked between Bucky number two and three.

Bucky number two snorted. “I know what you mean. After school, I actually got a scholarship, one of the few back then, for Teachers College, which is a part of Columbia University. I became a Math and Physics teacher. After some years, the university offered a few places in an experimental study about nitrogen and cryogenesis.”

“And I suspect you accepted one?” Sam number three asked.

“Yep. Wanted to see what progress the future made in science and to have the body and age and mind to enjoy it all fully.”

“That takes being a nerd to a whole new level. I thought the Bucky I know was flexing!” Sam number one exclaimed.

“Just because I could read the Hobbit when it came out and you couldn’t?” Bucky number one shot back.

“You read that, too?” Bucky number two and three exclaimed.

“No matter the universe, they’re nerds” Sam number two mumbled.

“And you two? What happened with you in your universes?” You looked at Sam number two and three.

“My and Sarah’s parents died quite a few years ago. My nephews were little, and yet, I thought I’d help my family more if I went off to the air force. Sarah wouldn’t have that and then the community got wind of my plans and they kept me there” Sam number two smiled. “I took over more of the workload to keep our fishing business afloat so Sarah could focus more on the kids when they were really little. When they got bigger, we shared the workload more equally and still do that now. Haven’t regretted not moving away one day.”

“I also didn’t move away. Well, not entirely to Washington, after our parents died. I worked my ass off to get into an undergraduate program for social work and now I’m working as a counselor for families in tight spots in St. Bernard” Sam number three told.

“Okay. This is quite much, but I can work with that. Or at least understand more. Want to know something about me?” You looked around at the six men around you.

“Isn’t that confusing for you?” Bucky wanted to know.

“On every level, yes. So, I’ll just concentrate on the fact there’s six handsome and hot guys and just one of me.”

“That’s certainly something” Sam smiled.

“Yeah” You laughed quietly and took his hand.

You felt him stroke the back of your hand and move towards you. With a half smile and half lidded eyes, he pecked your lips. He moved back slowly. You cradled his head in your hand and pulled him in again, scratching his head all the while and earning a moan. You moved your lips against Sam’s, sucking his tongue into your mouth. He chuckled against your lips and moved back again. This time just enough to be able to bite your lips and then move his tongue against your lips again.

When he allowed you to breathe, another Sam asked: “You gonna hog her all for yourself or let us have a piece, too?”

“As if I’d deny myself the joy and pleasure of all of you…” You simpered.

“Well then” He pulled you up to stand and walked you to the middle of the big, fluffy rug in front of the bed.

Sam stood in front of you. With a faint smile, he unbuttoned button for button on the top of your dress. At the same time Bucky knelt behind you and let his hands wander from your ankles to the hem of your panties. He pulled them down slowly, until they caught on the hem of your stockings. Bucky pulled them down as well and put them on the ever growing pile of clothes near the foot of the bed.

“Would you look at this body!” Came from the direction of the bed, where the other two Buckys sat when the Sam before you let your dress fall from your body.

“God” That drawn out moan came from the loveseat with two Sams on it.

You smiled and opened your eyes, looking around to see the four men naked and teasingly stroke their cocks.

“C’mere baby” Sam purred.

The two men who had just undressed you went over to the bed. You stood in front of the loveseat.

“And where am I sitting?”

“Laying” Sam smiled and pulled you down.

Your torso laid across the legs of the Sam sitting left and your thighs across the Sam on the right. You wiggled your ass jokingly until you felt a gentle spank on the right cheek.

“We’ll be the ones to make you move, baby. You just relax and take it” Bucky said from the bed. You had no idea which one.

“Although that doesn’t mean we’ll be soft” Another Bucky said. You could hear the smile in his voice.

“I don’t think she wants us to be soft. Well, maybe a little?” The Sam who had your torso laying on his legs, questioned.

You looked up at him and opened your mouth to answer but before you could, he slipped two fingers into it. His other hand wandered to the nape of your neck. He started massaging it, and with a guttural moan, you spread your legs.

The Sam with your legs on his thighs now kneaded your butt, lulling you into a sense of security and comfort.

Then came the first spank. Pretty light, on the left butt cheek. You squeaked in surprise.

Before you could say anything, he landed a slightly harder spank on the right one. You whimpered.

The third spank was even harder, on the left cheek again.

The fourth spank made your ass cheek jiggle and yourself moan.

Sam continued in that tempo and alternated the cheeks with every other spank. The other Sam moved his fingers in and out of your mouth at a different pace, not giving you a chance to get used to just one rhythm.

From the couch pants and moans could be heard. Sam didn’t let you move your head, squeezing instead of massaging your neck each time you wanted to look in the direction of the bed.

“No looking, baby. You just feel and hear.”

You nodded as best as you could and felt a visceral need in your core. You tried to alleviate it, humping the side of Sam’s thigh.

“You need something more, baby?”

You mumbled around the other Sam’s fingers.

“I’d say that’s a yes” The Bucky in the middle of the bed grinned.

“C’mere baby.” Both Sam’s helped you up and got you in front of the bed.

You looked up at Bucky and he petted your cheek.

“Ready?”

You nodded and knelt in front of Bucky and another Bucky pushed your head down to make you take everything until you gagged. They both gave you short periods of reprieve when one of them pulled a little back until they made you gag again. With each gagging noise you made, you felt yourself getting wetter.

Suddenly you felt the tip of a cock between your ass cheeks. With a sigh, a sigh as if he came home, the man behind you penetrated you slowly, making you feel every inch. Bucky pushed you down quickly. The pace made your eyes water and a tear fall but that didn’t keep you from recognizing that beautiful brown skin in the corner of your left eye.

“We’re so good, we make you cry?” Sam grinned, showing his canines.

You nodded once when you heard a growl above you. Suddenly your mouth was empty and not a second later long ropes of cum hit your face.

You opened your eyes just in time to see Sam’s hand rubbing your clit as he pulled your back close to his chest. You felt the warmth of his chest and his accelerated heartbeat at your back. He bent forward to caress your neck. Sam kissed your neck and bit every spot he had just caressed. You bucked against him, trying to get him moving deeper into you. You felt him smile against your neck where he had just sucked. He pressed his index and middle finger to your clit. He tapped it and with two further movements, you felt him squeeze your neck and with a long whine you came.

You wrapped your hands around Sam’s left wrist and that did it for him. You felt him spurt into your core and your legs trembled a little with the aftershocks.

“God…” He moaned into your neck and kissed it.

“J- just me” You mumbled in a haze with a grin.

You heard several chuckles from the bed. Someone pulled you slowly up and put you on the bed. Several people stroked your body and kissed you softly. You, in turn, caressed Sam’s face and could almost hear him purr under your touch.

When you felt like you were in the here and now again, you laid on back on the bed, the head in the lap of one Bucky with one Sam kissing the life out of you. He had his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed now and then. You were moaning and whimpering continuously but you didn’t know why exactly. Maybe it was because Bucky massaged your head. Maybe it was because Sam choked and kissed you so beautifully.

And maybe it was because what happened between your legs. Looking down your body, spread out like a feast, you saw one brown haired head. Two strains had escaped the low bun and stuck to his face with his spit and your slick. Next to Bucky, there was Sam. This was the Sam with longer curls. Perfect to rake your fingers through and pull him even closer to you.

Both of them licked, nibbled and sucked on your private parts and on the tighter rim a little below. Occasionally they bumped heads and shoulders, chuckling each time. Each chuckle sent vibrations through you and made you pull their hair. Every time you did that, they moaned. Even more vibrations went to your clit. A vicious cycle.

Until they stopped everything.

Although you wanted to form words of protest, nothing articulated came out of your mouth.

You saw the two grinning at each other and they rammed three fingers each in you. Three in your pussy and three in your ass. You could only moan and your back arched up.

Bucky attacked your g spot right away and Sam hammered into your ass. With the contrast of that to the kissing of the other Sam and the head massage by the other Bucky, you couldn’t focus on anything, just letting it happen. Out of the blue, you sensed something warm and wet and occasionally sharp on your nipples and your neck. You could only guess that was because of the other two.

With one more come hither motion of Bucky, you screamed into Sam’s mouth and came. You felt your walls spasm and spasm and spasm. Yet, Bucky didn’t stop. Each time your pussy let up, there was another come hither motion and Sam hadn’t stopped fingering your ass once.

Sam and Bucky bit your nipples until they were swollen and the Sam who still had his hand around your neck, squeezed.

Your body, that hadn’t ceased moving since your scream, spasmed as a whole and then everything went black.

---

As you came to again, one pair of Sam and Bucky were grinning up at you and two pairs were grinning down at you.

“There she is again” Bucky smiled.

“I take it you’re satisfied?” Another Bucky asked you cockily.

You nodded, panting.

You were maneuvered until you laid on a mountain of pillows. From that position you could see all six men gripping their erections. Your body was sweaty, spit from six men clung to it, your face was painted with the cum from one of the Bucky’s and between your legs there was a mess of the cum of one of the Sam’s and yours. Still, you wanted more. And you knew how to get it.

You made grabby hands, decidedly close to the men’s cocks. They grinned and moved closer to you.

“Please?” You made puppy dog eyes at them.

“How can you say no to this very beautiful and very naughty girl?” One of the Sam’s mumbled to himself.

“You don’t, never!” Bucky answered and started jerking faster.

You licked your lips and sat up a bit. You didn’t want to miss one second of this show. Their hands went over their cocks, faster and faster until the six faces contorted in pleasure and you saw your belly and breasts be painted by their cum. It was accompanied by several growls and whimpers.

You smiled tiredly, when the six collapsed around you. You pulled them closer, reveling in their warmth.

“Gimme some minutes, doll” Bucky whispered into your ear.

After some time, he went and got several warm wet washcloths. He and another Bucky cleaned you up softly. Only after that, did the men clean up themselves. You turned on your side, tired and sated. Sam pulled you into his chest, Bucky molded himself to your back and put his legs over yours. The other four cuddled up to you three in the middle, making you a tangle of seven people in the middle.

“Does one of you know when the first meeting of tomorrow starts?” You yawned.

“At nine” The Bucky of this universe mumbled.”

“The cyborg strikes again” A mix of a yawn and smile was audible in his voice. “Do we have to attend that?”

“I think so.”

“Ugh. And what about the four not from here?” Sam wriggled his arm free and hugged one Bucky and one Sam to his back.

“No idea” The Sam hugged by Sam shook his head.

“Let’s sleep for now. We can worry about that tomorrow” The Bucky between the two Sam’s said.

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cadetcama · 3 years

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!!! "i mean... i-i'm cool with sharing the bed if you are." for caswen !!!

Ok this was really fun to write so thank you, anon for sending it in!!

(This one is rated T because of one swear word and suggestive themes so just heads up!)

Ricky Bowen didn’t like making decisions. This was a well-known fact. He was a ‘go with the flow’ guy because the flow tended to mean someone else would make decisions for him. That being said, there were moments and situations in which he would steadfastly make a decision and stick to it.

One of those decisions was deciding to never share a room with Big Red. It wasn't anything personal against his best friend, but between the CPAP machine and the noise machine, and Red’s general snoring, Ricky refused. He wasn’t someone who needed a lot of sleep in general, but he did need some and that would be impossible if he shared with Big Red.

Which was normally not a problem, except for this… high school theater conference thing that the drama club had been invited to perform an abridged version of Beauty and the Beast at. Which meant they got to go on a (partly) school funded trip and stay for a long-weekend in a hotel and go to different workshops and exhibits to learn new things about theater and acting while surrounded by other drama dorks from across the state and Ricky had never been so overwhelmed in his life and that was saying something.

Miss Jenn had done the room assignments and, understandably, put Ricky and Big Red together. Which led to Ricky spending the entire bus ride begging her to switch him with anyone else (okay, it was really more like ten minutes before he got distracted by a game Hot Seat but still!) before Miss Jenn told him: “These are the room assignments that the school approved. If you end up sleeping somewhere else, I know nothing about that.” Which admittedly didn’t seem like something a teacher should be saying, but then, as they were getting off the bus at the hotel, she leveled a conspiratorial look at him. “EJ’s the only one without a roommate – I’d start there.”

EJ, as it turned out, was surprisingly easy to convince. All it took was Ricky explaining about the CPAP and jungle noise machine (that had wolves howling somehow? Ricky was still confused by that), and EJ agreed.

“Having my own room was supposed to be a senior privilege, but,” EJ sighed dramatically, “I suppose I’ll make the sacrifice for the good of the show.”

“Oh, thank God,” Ricky sighed in relief. “My next stop was getting Carlos and Seb to let me crash with them, but no one wants that.”

“No, they don’t.” EJ agreed, looking over to the couple in question. “Still not sure how Miss Jenn managed to let that one slide.”

Miss Jenn eventually gave everyone the keys to their rooms and sent them on their way. It took several cycles of waiting for the elevator before they managed to make it to their floor, but finally, Ricky let himself and EJ into their room. EJ switched the lights on and they both froze as the door swung shut behind them.

They were expecting two double beds, like Miss Jenn had assured them would be in every room, but instead they got a king-sized bed.

One bed meant he and EJ would be sharing more than just a room.

Probably.

“I mean…I-I’m cool with sharing the bed if you are,” Ricky stammered, unable to look away from the bed.

“Really?” EJ turned to look at him.

“I mean, it’s pretty big right?” Ricky offered, facing EJ, but still avoiding his eyes. “If you’re not cool with it, that’s fine. I’ll sleep on the floor. Or in that chair—” he pointed to an armchair in the corner.

“You’re not gonna sleep on the floor, Bowen,” EJ sighed, dropping his bag on the floor.

“Really?” Ricky asked, hopefully.

“The bed is plenty big.” EJ allowed slowly, and it was like Ricky could see the gears turning in his head. “And you’re our leading man. We can’t have you getting a shitty night’s sleep before we impress everyone in the state with our Beauty and the Beast.”

“How selfless,” Ricky joked, throwing his bag in the corner.

“I play for the team to win! But sometimes that means I, personally, have to lose,” EJ teased, grinning.

“Yeah, because having to share your enormous bed is a real hardship,” Ricky rolled his eyes and flopped into the armchair, not quite ready to get on the bed yet.

“Hey, it might be!” EJ leaned back against the pillows of the bed. “You might be a secret cuddler and I’ll wake up being spooned to death.”

“Please, if anyone’s being spooned, it’s me,” Ricky said before he could stop himself. “Being the little spoon is the best.”

EJ gave him a look Ricky couldn’t decipher and Ricky suddenly felt like the room was on fire. He was itching to move but he didn’t want to be the one to break eye contact with EJ. Because that would mean… something, right? Finally, EJ smirked a little and said: “Noted.”

Was it too late to go back to rooming with Big Red?

hope you liked it!! Thanks again for sending in a prompt!

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lovelyirony · 4 years

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oh my GOD mechanicfam is god tier just may i present an au where tony adopts harley after his mom and sister die in a car crash (post-mandarin) and so tony's the only person harley knows to go to and harley's the thing that makes rhodey and tony get their HEADS out of their ASSES

Harley keeps the business card that was left on the workshop of his house. He kept it in a kitchen drawer that his mom never used, because it full of the “nice” dish towels that were only taken out come Christmastime.

His fingers shake as he grips the phone, punching in the numbers.

“Can I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s...um. Harley. Keener. From Tennessee.”

There’s a shift on the phone, and Harley feels a bit guilty because it is late, but he doesn’t know where else to turn.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Um. I need help.”

“With what?”

And that’s when Harley loses it. He can barely enunciate the words, and he’s trying to furiously wipe away tears as he hears a litany of curses over the other line.

“I’m...I’m sorry, I just didn’t know who else to call and I don’t know what to do, and-”

“Kid, don’t you worry. I’ll be there in...two hours. Hell, maybe one if I can break the sound barrier. You have anything to eat yet?”

“Um, no?”

“Okay, then we stop for food when we get home.”

“Home?”

“...we’ll talk when I get there.”

Tony, in all honesty, does not know what he’s doing. God knows he had two stellar examples of parenting from Howard and Maria.

But he knows that a kid like Harley will get torn apart, and he...he can’t let him do that.

“Are you sure about this?” Rhodey asks.

“Yes,” Tony says. “I’m sure. We’ll...I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

“You act like I’m not going to help you,” Rhodey says. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back. You have a way of transporting him back?”

“Already ordered a car to the airport, we’ll be taking a plane back home.”

“Bring him back safe.”

“Always.”

Harley collapses into Tony’s arms when he touches down, armor barely off.

“Please,” he sobs. “Please just get me out of here.”

Tony wasn’t going into the situation blind. He had seen the article from their newspaper about the crash.

Harley said he had been riding his bike. Abbie really wanted to get a burger, and he hadn’t wanted to go.

“They would still be here if I had gone,” Harley says bitterly, and Tony’s heart has a pang of hurt because he understands that feeling all too well. But right now, Harley doesn’t need someone to understand everything, he just needs to be cared for.

Tony sits down with him at a kitchen table and doesn’t miss how Harley stares at the two chairs across from them.

“I want to talk with you,” he says quietly. “I want to know what you want to do.”

Harley looks at him.

“I...I wasn’t really expecting you to come.”

“We’re connected,” Tony says, a soft smile on his face. “I always will, whenever you want. Now, I’m just here to help you figure out what you want.”

“...what are the options?”

Tony’s willing to go through hell and back for this kid. He doesn’t tell him this verbatim, but the sentiment is there. He’d be willing to do anything, so long as he could see Harley safe and happy wherever he was.

Harley sits outside for a moment, breathing.

And then he can’t breathe.

Abbie’s looking up at the night sky, smiling.

“It’ll always be like this, right Harls?”

“Right,” Harley says, smiling nice and easy. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to us.”

Except he did.

It was all over the news, and everyone knew about it.

He comes back in, and Tony can probably tell that he’s at his absolute worst.

“I can’t stay here. I-I need to leave. Now.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

Driving in the car is a mostly silent affair. Tony hums along to AC/DC and tells Harley about new projects.

Their first rest stop, Tony goes out with Harley, watching him carefully.

“I’m not gonna break,” Harley snaps.

“Not saying you’re gonna.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Okay. Rhodey’s at the house waiting for us when we get there.”

“He on leave?”

Tony nods. “Three months. Lucky.”

“Yeah.”

Not a lot after that.

At some point, Harley dozes off, leaning his head against the door.

Tony sends a message to Rhodey when they’re boarding the plane. Harley’s still a little groggy, and mostly content to just blearily go and find a seat and pass out.

He sleeps the whole flight home, and Tony is left with his thoughts.

Thought One: Maybe he Should’ve Left This Alone.

Thought Two: He needs to answer Pepper’s email regarding the press conferences and publicity things, get that all worked out.

Thought Three: He hopes Rhodey has some sort of food ready.

Rhodey sees Tony and Harley stumbling in, and he’s struck for a moment by just how similarly they carry themselves, how Harley’s eyes dart around like Tony’s did when he first moved into their dorm.

“Hi,” Rhodey says. “You hungry?”

“Um.”

“We’ll sit down anyways,” Tony says. “Planes are the worst, Harley. They zap all your energy no matter how long you sit on your ass.”

Rhodey sends Tony a look that says “you should probably watch your language.”

Tony sends back a look that says “now’s not the time to discuss my behaviors.”

Harley sleeps.

He’s surprised he does, because he wakes up about nine hours later, and he feels like he doesn’t deserve this long of sleep. He gets slammed with the current news of his life all over again, and his lips tremble as he gets out of a bed that he thinks is too nice for him, and stares into a mirror.

“Mr. Keener?”

Harley jumps.

“...is that you, Jarvis?”

“It is indeed, Mr. Keener. An honor to make your acquaintance, Sir has told me so much about you.”

“Please tell me he didn’t tell you about the potato gun.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

Harley grins up at where the voice emanates.

“Your presence is required for breakfast, if that is alright.”

“That’s...that’s fine.”

He’s not hungry, but Rhodey slides him a plate of toast and eggs.

“Try to eat as much as you can,” he says. “Tony can finish off the rest, if he ever comes down from his bed.”

Harley nods, nibbling on the toast.

“You want jam or anything? We have grape, and...only grape. This peach looks questionable.”

Harley snorts.

“I’m good. Thanks, though.”

“No problem.”

They eat in awkward but companionable silence, and finally Harley speaks.

“Tony said you’re on leave for three months.”

“I got lucky,” Rhodey says, grinning. “I get to stay here with you guys for longer than three weeks. A full guarantee, unless of aliens.”

“They’re that much of a concern?” Harley asks, eyebrows raised.

“Only at high levels,” Rhodey says, giving him a lazy wink. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

“If anything, you would hear it from me,” Tony says, wrapped up in a gaudily-patterned robe. “Hello dearest, hello little one.”

“I’m not little,” Harley grumbles.

“You are shorter than me, you are little.”

“For now. Doc said I’m supposed to be over six feet.”

“Hm, we’ll see,” Tony says. “But enough about that. We have to have a little chat.”

Harley’s heart leaps with anxiety. When adults talk about having a chat, or talking, it’s...well. It’s never a walk in the park. Or a jog for that matter, either.

“What about?”

“How we can help you.”

Harley sighs, burrowing deep in his seat.

“We have to talk about this?”

“Yeah, we do.”

Harley gets set up with a therapist who he’s not sure he likes yet, but so far she’s been pretty nice. A bit of a mess, because she comes into their second session late and with iced coffee.

“Oh shit, I should’ve asked you if you wanted something,” Joan says, fretting. “Um, hi Harley. How are we doing?”

“Um, fine? I guess? For someone who’s dealing with a lot of change?”

“Oh, that’s great to hear. Do you mind...?” She breathes for a minute. “There was a really cute girl in the elevator for the dentist office above me, and I had to avoid her so that I wouldn’t talk about things and ruin things, so I took the stairs. Do you mind if I just drink my coffee for a moment?”

“...knock yourself out.”

So they sit there for a few moments, while Joan catches her breath and Harley wonders if he can text her his coffee order later.

“Alright, let’s talk you, Harley.”

Therapy goes well. As well as it can go, honestly.

And Harley? Well, he settles.

And he notices things.

Rhodey is still with them, two months and three weeks in. This is his last week, and Tony is miserable although he won’t say anything.

Harley notices how Tony will automatically move closer to Rhodey, and Rhodey welcomes him into his space as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They bicker at each other, but Rhodey slides scrambled eggs onto Tony’s plate as he argues, and Tony leans over and grabs the coffee mug that Rhodey favors.

Apparently, they’re not together.

This leaves Harley very confused.

Tony gets all flustered and in denial when he asks about it.

“Why would...why would he...why would he be with me?” Tony asks, moving around the kitchen. “He has more to life than that. Now come on, get your shopping list together, kiddo. I’m not gonna hear you complain for another week that we didn’t get your pumpkin-carving-coffee-creamer-whatever.”

“It’s pumpkin spice, and you would know that because you pretend like you don’t use it.”

“We’ll get two bottles this time,” Rhodey says, only coming in on the tail-end of the conversation. “Tony, babe, remember to get the provolone slices when we’re there for the deli sandwiches.”

“Got it, honey.”

Harley stares.

They’re so...domestic.

Harley hasn’t seen that often. Certainly didn’t see it with his parents before his dad left, and his mother...she didn’t get to have that with anyone else afterwards. And his sister, oh god-

“Kiddo, you okay?” Rhodey asks. His hand is on Harley’s shoulder, eyes full of concern. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Just...just thinking about my mom. And my sister.”

Rhodey brings him into a hug.

Harley breathes in and out for a moment, absorbing the clean smell of Rhodey’s shirt and focusing on the touch.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll be fine. Let’s go, before Tony gets to choose the car and we have to fit fifteen bags into a Maserati.”

“Then we’ll have to leave you at the store,” Rhodey teases. “Let’s see if we can get a rational car.”

Grocery shopping is...it’s nice. It’s one of Harley’s favorite things to do, as boring and uninteresting as that may be.

He mostly just likes watching Tony and Rhodey do it. It’s entertainment, and they’re so practiced together.

Harley isn’t sure if his mom and his sister are still looking on, but he always gets their favorite snacks, just in case. He puts a bag of hot fries and a carton of strawberries into the cart, and then he grins as he finds Tony and Rhodey still arguing over whether or not they should get two bundles of green onions for the Wednesday dinner or not.

“Come on dad,” Harley says, throwing the extra bundle into the cart. “It’ll be good, and we can probably make some sort of soup garnish for the end.”

He moves the cart, and he doesn’t even see how Tony and Rhodey stare after him.

“So obviously, I’m dad,” Tony says. “That’s me.”

“Or is it?” Rhodey asks, faking suspicion. “We don’t know until a full investigation is launched.”

“Oh full investigation my ass,” Tony says. “Come on, before he leaves us in the dust and ends up getting far too many packages of candy.”

“Like you minded, heathen.”

Tony pushes off the grocery cart, and Rhodey has to smile for a moment.

He’s going to miss this. He only has a few days left, and then he’s back and he’s alone, and he’s not alone, but he...

Rhodey always misses Tony. He’s tried to convince himself over the years that it’s just what best friends do, but he doesn’t think that best friends think of each other in the way that he thinks of Tony.

And now there’s Harley.

Harley, who is so much like Tony, and so good. He smiles, and he jokes, and Rhodey now can’t imagine life without him.

He doesn’t want to miss out on a thing, honestly. They’ve already joked about teaching him to drive in New York traffic.

And he wants to come home. He has his own place in New York, honest to god doesn’t know why he pays rent on it since Tony usually has him stay over anyways. He should sub-let or rent it or sell it. That’d be common sense.

Dinner goes well. Both Rhodey and Harley have a good rhythm in the kitchen, even with Harley’s questionable music taste and Rhodey’s inability to follow a recipe.

“People who follow recipes are chumps,” Rhodey says, dumping more garlic powder into the mixture. “Never follow a recipe.”

“We can call your mother and ask about the blueberry crumble incident of 1997,” Tony says innocently. “If you want to rehash how well that advice went for you. I recall a nearly-burned-down-house?”

Rhodey scowls, turning to Harley.

“Don’t listen to a word this man has ever said, he is an unlovable scamp.”

“Oh really?” Harley says. “Seems to suit you just fine, right?”

Rhodey momentarily pauses, and then grins.

“I suppose you’re right.”

All too right.

They eat dinner, and Tony as well as Rhodey make no mention of what’s going to happen come Saturday morning.

At least, until Harley does, because Harley does things like ask questions.

“So. When are you going for your next mission?” Harley asks. “And where?”

“Classified, and seven a.m. bright and early Saturday morning,” Rhodey states. “You gonna get out of bed in time to see me off?”

“Mm, we’ll think about it,” Tony says, biting into the pasta. “The beds are awfully comfy...”

“Aw shut up,” Rhodey whines. “Just for that, I get to choose the movie, and I’m choosing the not-movie. I’m choosing the BBC Pride and Prejudice.”

“You suck,” Tony groans. “If you weren’t a gorgeous man, I would have kicked you out decades earlier.”

“You make us sound ancient.”

“That’s because you two geezers are,” Harley says, taking his dish to the sink. “Come on, I totally dibs on getting the mint candies.”

“Absolutely not, you stole them all last, at least let us portion them out,” Tony says.

“Do we not live as a family? Can we no longer share things?” Harley cries out dramatically, draping his body across the couch. “Am I reduced to nothing but a pretty face?”

“I don’t know where you get your dramatics from,” Rhodey deadpans. “Truly, I don’t.”

Harley pokes his tongue out, and gestures for them to come over.

“We can wash dishes later, we need to see if Mr. Darcy comes back,” Harley says.

“You know he does,” Tony says, looking over at Rhodey. “He always will.”

It means...something. They’re not sure what, and they’re not going to ask each other while Harley is busy commandeering the couch and wiggling his way into getting the best blanket.

Tony on one side, Rhodey on the other, although the latter is busy popping popcorn and thinking.

He doesn’t even really want to go. He signed up for this tour, and he wasn’t honestly thinking it was going to be his last, but with Harley now, and with how life is going...would it be a bad thing?

Tony’s always wanted him to do at least consulting work for SI, and he could semi-retire comfortably...

“Honey-darling!” Tony calls, “the ETA on popcorn? I’m getting desperate!”

Harley sends Tony a sneaky look, and looks back towards the movie.

“You should remind Rhodey to get chocolate chips,” Harley says. “You know he likes them.”

“Of course I know that, how do you know that?”

“You usually get the popcorn,” Harley says with a shrug. “I know what you know about him. And you know a lot, don’t you?”

“I...I suppose,” Tony says, getting up.

Harley settles into his spot on the couch.

Tony comes up to Rhodey.

“Remember your chocolate chips,” Tony says.

Rhodey looks surprised.

“I thought you hated how sticky they got your hands.”

“That’s what napkins were invented for,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve been dealing with your chocolate chips for years, haven’t I?”

“I guess,” Rhodey says. “Just like I’ve been dealing with the fact that you pretend like you don’t like it, but you steal all of it.”

“Lies and slander, dearest,” Tony says, and Rhodey grins smoothly.

“Get back to the kid, sweetheart. I’ll be there when all of this is done.”

And it sounds so goddamned domestic. As if it’s real, as if they’ve been doing this song and dance for years. And they have, but it’s never been...

It’s never been real. Sure, they’ve waited on each other when Rhodey leaves or Tony travels, and they fall in together in a nice and easy rhythm.

But Tony...he’s a Stark. He needs a good reputation, and while most wouldn’t say his reputation is exactly good, there’s a lot that the public can forgive. Rhodey is not part of that.

Tony thinks that Rhodey deserves someone better. He knows it, knows it in the way that Rhodey smiles and it’s the best damned thing he’s ever seen, knows it in the way how his eyes track people who need help the most.

Harley knows virtually none of this. The only thing he knows is that his guardians are the stupidest people on the planet, and now he has a side project besides school and by god it’ll be fun.

But first, Rhodey is being sent off. Tony’s hands are wandering all over the place, as Harley’s noticed they do when he’s nervous. His do the same. Tony is talking about everything and joking about changes, and Rhodey smiles and nods and they both know what is going to happen.

Harley, for his part, mostly just tries not to doze off because it’s too early for any of this but also he wants to remember this.

Rhodey will be gone for one month and three weeks. According to Tony, this isn’t the longest he’s ever been away, but usually he’s not gone for this long. The older he gets, the shorter the missions or projects get. But they need his expertise with rookies.

Tony, for his part, has packed about three extra bags for Rhodey under the guise of them being “goodie bags” or the army to peruse after Rhodey.

“I won’t need all of these fancy pieces,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not even leaving the US this time, cupcake.”

“You saying you can’t be in danger when you’re here?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Take the stuff dad,” Harley says exasperated.

“Ha!” Rhodey teases. “So I’m dad!”

“You both are,” Harley says. “You’re both dad.”

They grin at each other, at least until Tony furrows his brow.

“Then how will we know which one you’re talking to?”

“I’ll come up with a different name then,” Harley says. “I don’t know. Let’s not talk about this while you’re supposed to be boarding a jet.”

Rhodey shrugs, leaning in for a hug from Harley, and facing Tony. There’s something in his eyes.

“Stay safe,” Tony says. “Promise me that.”

“I don’t make promises,” Rhodey says, a smile playing at his lips.

“For anyone else,” Tony finishes, grinning. He brings him into a hug, probably holding on for a touch longer than necessary. But he’s leaving, so you can’t fault him for it.

Harley is smiling to himself as Rhodey whispers something in Tony’s ear, which causes him to widen his eyes in delight.

“Seriously? You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

Tony cheers for a moment, before they hear a shout across the tarmac. Rhodey gives a lazy salute.

“Until one month and three weeks.”

“Until then, nerd,” Harley shouts.

Tony blows a kiss, and Rhodey “catches” it and puts it in his pocket.

Harley sends Tony a look as they’re driving home.

“So. What did Rhodey whisper in your ear?”

“He’s going to move in,” Tony says, grinning.

“He doesn’t actually live at our home?” Harley asks, absolutely flabbergasted. “There’s no fucking way-”

“Language!”

“You said ‘shit’ during breakfast, if anything this is just leveling the playing field-”

“Don’t care, you’re a small child. What would the public say if they knew I was teaching my boy curse words?” Tony says dramatically.

“They’d probably not be surprised,” Harley answers. “Didn’t you tell the paparazzi to ‘get fucked’ when they ambushed our dinner last month?”

“Not the point.”

“Or is it?”

“You’re detracting from the fact that you get to help me get rid of all of Rhodey’s ugly furniture in his apartment.”

“Seriously?” Harley whines. “No, I’m...doing something.”

“Doing what? Eating hot fries on my couch and getting it stained with spicy cheese dust?”

“...no.”

“Hm, thought so. You’re coming with me.”

Rhodey isn’t expecting to miss home as fiercely as he does this time around. He’s irritable, but he finds comfort in talking with some of the other members of the crew about kids.

“Didn’t know you had a kid,” Hicks mentions. “When did that happen?”

“About six months ago,” Rhodey answers. “Kid needed a guardian, Tony stepped up to the plate. He’s a real neat kid, really a genius. Just like Tony, in that way.”

“You live with Tony, finally?” Thompson asks. “Or do you still have that dinky bachelor pad?”

“I’m selling it,” Rhodey said. “I told Tony I’d help out with Harley, and that’s what I’m doing. Figure since I’m always over there anyways, might as well move in.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t move in sooner, what with you and Stark anyways,” Thompson remarks.

“What do you mean?” Rhodey asks.

“You’re...not together?”

Rhodey looks away, a bit sheepish.

“Uh...no. We’re not.”

“But you wanna be,” Owens teases from her corner, eating her sandwich. “You stupid lover-boy.”

“Aw shut up,” Rhodey fires back. “As if you aren’t all over your husband when you get back.”

“But I, my dear old man, am married,” Owens says. “Put a ring on it! God knows you should’ve, like, eight years ago. Have you even asked him on a date?”

“He has other options, and a life outside of me,” Rhodey says.

“Bullshit,” the team crows, laughing. Rhodey just shakes his head, and bites into his sandwich.

He misses them.

Harley and Tony miss him equally as much. Tony is down in the dumps, sulking in his lab while Harley attempts to rebuild a projectile weapon.

“Do you have a permit for that?”

“Do I need one?” Harley asks. “I’m not gonna take it anywhere, except maybe when I’m in trouble.”

“When will you be in trouble?”

“...you’ll know.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to be on national news.”

“Just on regional, don’t worry.”

Tony sighs.

“Rhodey is going to want to witness that, so can you wait?”

“...potentially.”

Rhodey gets letters from the two of them. He thinks it’s Harley’s idea: after all, Tony would simply just hijack the internet feed and yell at people until Rhodey was called for.

He gets two pages from Tony with his elegant writing, the writing that almost never comes out because he remembers that Tony was taught how to write in blocky, all-caps letters that he was fond of now.

Harley writes in chicken-scratch that is barely legible, although he mentions that he’s been learning about lettering from Tony.

Tony misses you a lot, by the way, Harley writes, he’s been playing all of your favorite songs, and I didn’t know that you liked Three Dog Night. Interesting.

It’s not surprising that Tony knows and plays his music, not really. But Rhodey is still pleasantly surprised that even when he isn’t physically present, Tony keeps a piece of him around.

Similarly, Tony writes about Harley.

The kid misses you, honey. He’s been compiling a list of things he wants to do when you get back. You’re better at hugging him, by the way. Today (well, Wednesday for you) we had a good cry session. Wish you were there, but we made do with what we had. Why did you take your sweatshirt, by the way? Stupid man, now I can’t wear it and drape myself across couches like a scorned widow. Honestly...

Rhodey comes back on a Tuesday morning. Harley’s allowed to miss school for it, which he’s very happy about.

“That doesn’t mean you get to sleep in,” Tony says. “We’re picking him up at eight.”

“Why must I be punished for all time,” Harley moans. “Eight? Seriously? Doesn’t the army know that noon exists?”

“They made up the early rule because of me,” Tony jokes. “But I promise that Rhodey will most likely want an actual breakfast, which means we get diner breakfast.”

“Yes!” Harley says, pumping his fist. “Waking up early just became worth it.”

“Yeah sure, just look at the emails your teachers sent you about missing homework and be sure to text Peter and Ned about the classes you missed,” Tony says.

Harley nods, walking out of the kitchen before pausing and turning back.

“You should wear that Black Sabbath shirt that Rhodey likes tomorrow,” he says. “It’ll be nice for him to see.”

Tony raises an eyebrow.

“And since when did you know what Rhodey likes to see?”

“Since I was born with vision,” Harley deadpans. “He always picks that shirt out for you when you come back after a business meeting overseas.”

Waking up at eight a.m. is worth it for a hug from Rhodey. Honest to god, that man gives the best hugs Harley’s ever had, short of Abbie and mom.

Tony is asking a million questions a minute, and then telling Rhodey about the results of the apartment. A Stark Industries employee is renting it, and Tony managed to save some of the mugs, and chastised Rhodey for stealing a colander, apparently.

“It was our good one! Why did you leave it in your apartment?”

“I thought I stored it where we put the pans!” Rhodey defended. “How was I supposed to know that it was at that apartment?”

“Quit arguing and start moving,” Harley says. “We have breakfast to get to.”

“Our boy is growing,” Tony says, sighing. “Soon he’ll eat us out of house and home.”

“We live in a gigantic tower in New York, I think you’re gonna be fine,” Rhodey says. “Although let’s get on it before there’s too much of a wait.”

“It’s a Tuesday, darling,” Tony says. “No wait. And they know us.”

Harley enjoys witnessing breakfast. Basically because Tony and Rhodey fall into their respective rhythms as if no one had ever left. Rhodey is fighting about the hash browns, and Tony is reaching all the way across the table for the hot sauce.

Harley has honestly and truly missed them all together like this.

Even if Rhodey nabs a sausage from his plate.

“I’m the growing teen here!” Harley says, gesturing with his fork. “Why steal from your poor, innocent charge? Was it not enough to leave for a month and three weeks?”

“And three weeks! Honestly honey,” Tony says, distracting Harley enough to steal the other sausage off of his plate. “You should’ve been here sooner, we could’ve eaten more of these!”

“You both are criminals,” Harley says. “Criminals who I have to live with. This is unforgivable. I’ll waste away into nothing...”

Rhodey laughs, and he catches Tony’s eyes.

Yeah. It’s good to be back.

Living with Tony and Harley isn’t really an adjustment at all. Rhodey had barely used his apartment before, and now is no different. He just gets to decorate his room a little bit more, and contribute more to groceries.

He’s also around for more of Harley which is...interesting.

The kid knows something, that’s for sure.

He is also sneakily good at making sure that Tony and Rhodey get alone time, whether that be last-minute-ditching plans with Pepper or “forgetting” that he was supposed to be going to Ned’s for a video-game championship. (Harley was good at lying, but Tony and Rhodey have had years of practice.)

Rhodey has a sneaking suspicion that he knows why.

Harley isn’t a stupid boy, not by a long shot.

He’s caught on to Rhodey’s stares, the way that Tony and Rhodey have something, but neither really want to acknowledge.

To acknowledge means to know, and knowing is something that is far more terrifying than most people give it credit.

Harley eventually has help.

After all, he and Pepper didn’t just go their separate ways when he ditched his guardians to give them quality dates, and he didn’t just talk about video game strategy with Peter, Ned, and MJ.

He was planning. Figured it would fit with a life plan, honestly.

Pepper is quite potentially even more tired than he is, and has agreed to help set up a nice date.

She’s made deals she never expected to.

She owes the god of mischief a bottle of wine. It’s ridiculous.

Peter and Ned have been elected with getting the “aesthetic” right, and MJ has been “helpfully” suggesting where lights go.

“MJ, if I move them any more left they’ll fall off the building and become a hazard,” Harley grunts.

“Exactly. Nothing says romance like dangerous situations,” she says with a shrug. “But put them in the tree, and we can link the extension cord behind. It’ll look nice. All Pinterest-y and shit.”

“Why can’t you help and then joke?”

“I never joke. You just always like my second plan better.”

“I don’t know whether to be terrified or alarmed!” Peter calls from his spot of building the cheese-board.

“They’re synonyms,” MJ says. “When are we going home, by the way?”

“As soon as Rhodey finishes up with his afternoon run, and Tony realizes that dinner is still a social concept,” Harley says.

“Time, then?”

“...five-thirty.”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll call my mom about the pizza,” Ned says. “We still thinking one pepperoni and one veggie?”

“Sounds great,” Peter says. “What movie are we watching tonight?”

“Twitter polls said Clueless over the Leonardo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet. Sorry Ned, looks like your choice will be next week.”

“My heart hurts, but it understands,” Ned says sagely, placing a hand over his heart. “I will see Mercutio soon enough.”

Tony was not aware that their rooftop had lights. He doesn’t remember putting them there.

He was also pretty sure that Harley had a question about the flight patterns of birds in relation to GPS technology in drones, and it was weird that it was outside, but-

There’s a cheese-board. And now he gets why Pepper made him change shirts. He knew that his shirt wasn’t ugly!

Rhodey is standing across the way, looking at the dinner set-up and the tealights flickering gently from their placement.

“Is this...did you do this, Tony?”

“I don’t have this much of a creative eye,” Tony says, eyeing the intimate table placement. “Maybe Pepper?”

“She doesn’t do lights...”

“Harley,” they both say in unison, laughing.

There’s a note at the table, written in the same near-illegible handwriting:

Either get together or I get to make a Twitter thread. Your call.

Tony snorts as he looks at the placement of everything.

“Well...it’d be a shame for it to go to waste.”

“Is that you saying you’re flattered, but no thanks?” Rhodey asks.

“No,” Tony says, looking at Rhodey. “It’s not that at all, if you-”

“You mean-?”

“What? Is this what’s happening?” Tony asks. His breathing speeds up. He’s quite embarrassed that he can feel his cheeks turn red. He thought he got rid of blushing in ‘96.

“I...damn it, Tony. I love you!”

Tony stares. He just stares, and for a moment it doesn’t process, until it does. He flings himself into Rhodey’s arms, and laughs.

“Holy shit, that’s a relief.”

Rhodey spins him around, taking a brief moment to kiss him gently on the cheek.

“Oh, you owe me more than that, soldier.”

“I think I’m a little bit higher ranked than that.”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“Boyfriend, for one.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“We’re, like, a minute into this and you’re already the cheesy one.”

“Well one of us has to be, and I’m going to beat you to the punch.”

Harley gets one text at four in the morning from Rhodey:

no twitter thread for us. and you need to figure out what to call tony because i’m claiming “dad.”

Harley cackles, grinning.

got it, he’ll be pops then.

Tony texts Harley a minute later.

if you call me ‘pops’ there will be a mutiny! a mutiny!!

Harley laughs again, tapping a message back.

wotever.

Tony doesn’t respond, choosing instead to roll back over and sling an arm around his significant other. It’s too early to be nitpicking your kid’s grammar.

#lovelyirony writes #tony stark #harley keener #ironhusbands #rhodey #war machine #iron man #harley #pepper potts #mj watson #ned leeds #peter parker #anyways!!! yeah #death tw #tony and rhodye are STUPID. STUPID STUPID STUPID.#luckily harley has decided it's going to be his side proejct to get his two guardians together

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