#I had the feeling this scene would be good but I surely wasn't expecting this

[oodlyenough]

more arcane s2 thoughts in no particular order. this is pretty negative. woops

Cait, Vi, Caitvi

despite being what initially got me watching to begin with caitvi just never ended up being my primary interest with this show, so going into s2 it wasn't like I had very well formulated expectations or hopes. I think if I had I would maybe feel disappointed? They had some nice moments, they got the kiss and the sex scene, they're clearly endgame, etc, and that's nice, but it also felt like their relationship was so ... never really the star of the show or focus of the story to the extent I expected it to be. Did they even get a big fight-together battle-couple moment in the last ep, I don't think so? I didn't find the resolution to their Act 1 breakup especially good, I think Caitlyn owed Vi an apology and Vi deserved to be angry for longer than ten seconds.

I generally feel across both seasons that Vi's pain and trauma is rarely given as much weight as other characters', I was pretty underwhelmed by Caitlyn's dictator arc after being extremely interested in it at the end of act 1...

I dunno. I hope their stans liked it and are satisfied getting to see them kiss and have sex and be together and I wouldn't downplay the significance of The Couple in Arcane being a lesbian couple. But I wasn't personally very compelled or moved by it.

Jinx

Like the above I'm not a Jinx academic by any means but I think if I were I would be frustrated by how cyclical her arc was in season 2. And no, having Silco show up to be like "it's a cycle" doesn't really justify the narrative interludes. Isha is a hard sell of a character for me because I don't ... generally want little kid characters around ... and I found Jinx (basically) looking straight into the camera to say "gee you are just like me, Powder, when I was a little kid, which reminds me of being Powder, is this how Silco felt, is this how Vi felt" to be hamfisted. But some of the scenes with the two of 'em and Sevika were cute ... only for Isha to die and Jinx to be depressed, again, and then come through the other side, again, and then "die", again. Like if we wanted to deal with depressed Jinx we started off s2 that way...

I've seen other posts by Jinx fans that articulate much better the ways in which she goes from the driving plot force in s1 and main autonomous actor to just kind of being wafted around by plot in season 2 so I won't repeat them. But I think they are right. I also question the way her mental illness was portrayed -- or rather wasn't... -- in season 2. Powder in the AU showing no sign of illness (despite baby Powder in the main timeline already having some of that going on, pre-Vander death)... I mean, sure, she's got a support system etc in that world, and one can argue we don't spend enough time with AU Powder to necessarily see it, but combined with the Isha stuff it just kind of felt like a weird message.

Sevika

I love Sevika, one of my faves from s1. I was so excited she seemed to get a bigger role in act 1 and then in the first ep of act 2. And then she never spoke again. What the hell man... like damn... really?????!? Not a WORD in act 3? I'm sure this was some of the stuff they trimmed to get that finale down to 50 minutes but god that sucks, so much, in ways a wordless shot of her in the council chamber can't really resolve. Which leads me to

Piltover-Zaun

I have to admit I don't think the class politics in s1 are as good as they were reported to be, so I didn't have high hopes, but MAN is Piltover going "hey we need cannon fodder <3 thanks" not... a reasonable resolution... especially after an indeterminate time of Piltover being EVEN MORE oppressive with Caitlyn enforcing martial law. It was sooooooooo ridiculous. Also, lol @ the show acting like hextech is solely responsible for the suffering of the undercity. If only Vi, Jayce and Viktor weren't around we'd have a equitable utopia. Sure Jan.

Sky

One of the most offensively written female characters I've seen in recent media. A spectacular, zero-effort failure from the writers. What a horrible decision to write this poor girl, a Black woman no less, and give her absolutely no characterization outside of an unrequited crush on a gay white man. In season 1 I could forgive most of it because a show like Arcane needs redshirts and it's just unfortunate they made this particular redshirt a young Black woman. There are so many other complex and developed women in the show, I thought, they can afford to have some minor ones who aren't.

But oh my god season 2. The ghost hallucination which they never even clarify as being "really" Sky or just being the Hexcore or just being his own imagination of guilt because neither the show nor Viktor give enough of a fuck to explain fhglakhdglh. Even posthumously she barely has any dialogue except to reference off-screen conversations with Viktor we never see them have and then die again. "No you won't" ?????? It is ridiculous that they wrote this.

[cipher26]

Arcane Brain Dump 1/? | Jinx & Caitlyn

There were a lot of things I wanted to see in the finale that I didn't get, which wasn't surprising knowing there wasn't much time. But one thing that I really wanted and didn't actually expect to get was a 1 on 1 conversation with Jinx and Caitlyn. I was so excited when it was happening, because I felt like it was necessary for both characters to talk with each other, especially after episode 6 when they're suddenly fighting on the same side, and where they COULD have become family if it hadn't all gone to shit.

Before the season started I didn't think there was any hope for Jinx and Caitlyn to actually reconcile. Like, I thought at best Cait might stop hunting her for Vi's sake, but would still hate her. But then Isha came along and Jinx changed so much, and Caitlyn was isolated and depressed and tired, and I thought "hmm maybe they can get past the feud?" Unfortunately I guess we'll never know for sure, but I really do think that conversation was step 1 for them getting along. It was so interesting to see because you can see that Caitlyn is still in pain about her loss, but it's also been enough time since then, and so much has happened that the rage she was feeling in the beginning of the season has fizzled out. Which is relatable. It's exhausting to keep up that kind of hatred for someone, especially if they change in the way that Jinx did. The Jinx in that cell in front of Caitlyn was a completely different person than the one who kidnapped her out of the shower and killed her mother. I think that seeing Jinx with Isha and Vi and Vander also showed Caitlyn how much had changed. Because even from her first meeting with Jinx, there was tension between her and Vi. Jinx held a gun up to Vi's face in that first meeting, and was instantly aggressive towards Caitlyn. But in that tent with the whole family, Jinx didn't even care that Caitlyn was there. If anything she seemed kind of smug, because Caitlyn still thinks of her as an enemy but Jinx just saved her life. It's almost like a game, like what can Caitlyn do now? She lost some of her argument about Jinx being evil. Also, in that moment she can't do anything even if she wanted to. I saw a lot of people talking about how it didn't make sense that Caitlyn was suddenly fine with Jinx and didn't try to kill her. Which is silly because first of all, Caitlyn didn't have her weapon, she left it in the tent with Vi and Vi hadn't returned yet. So she couldn't really do anything. Also they just watched Beast Vander throw this huge man out the side of the building to protect his daughter, so if Caitlyn tries to hurt Jinx in any way she's absolutely gonna get torn to pieces. And then immediately after that everything starts to go to shit, and Vi is there, and they have other things to worry about in that moment. Especially once Ambessa starts attacking. It's a shame that we didn't also get to see the immediate aftermath of the battle with Cait, Jinx, and Jayce rushing Vi to safety. I mean idk how far Piltover is from the fissure, but it's not a fast journey lol. The three of them together must have been interesting, especially since Caitlyn hasn't seen Jayce in however many months it's been since before the time skip. Another thing I was sad to not see actually, was Cait and Jayce's reunion and Cait being like "wtf happened to you? where have you been?!" Alas...

Anyway, I'm glad they gave us that prison scene with the two of them. They just came out and addressed their issue, realized how different things were, and both kind of chose to move on. I mean Jinx is devastated and suicidal, she's completely given up, and also she's still the good person that Isha helped her become. Jinx has no reason to hate Caitlyn. The only thing Caitlyn's done to Jinx is hunt her after Jinx murdered her mother. And because Jinx wants to die, she tells Caitlyn to just do it. Except Caitlyn's changed too. She's tired of fighting, and the kid in front of her (cause Jinx is a kid...) looks as sad and tired as she feels. Even more so. It wasn't a long conversation, but I think it was just what they needed to hear from each other, and what the audience needed to hear. Caitlyn admits that her hatred for Jinx changed her in ways that made her hate herself, and she didn't want to be like that anymore. And then Jinx comes pretty much as close as she's gonna get to apologizing to Caitlyn for killing her mom. She doesn't say the words "I'm sorry," but when she says "I didn't know your mom was there" it kind of does feel like an apology. Or at the very least, I think it's Jinx telling Caitlyn that it wasn't personal. She wasn't trying to hurt Caitlyn specifically, she was trying to hurt the system that had oppressed and neglected her home for so long. And in that moment, she was too filled with grief over Silco to hold back.

So I think that conversation really brings some closure to both of them. They kind of get past their feud and just move on. There are so many other things to worry about now, and so many bad things have happened. And in the process of rushing Vi back to Piltover, I imagine it helped each of them see how much the other loves Vi. And I think that loving Vi is part of the motivation to put it behind them. Vi would never forgive Jinx if she killed Caitlyn, or hurt her. And now, despite what Vi told Cait before their first fight, I think Cait knows Vi would never forgive her if she hurt or killed Jinx. They both do what they do in the end of that episode FOR Vi. Jinx runs and locks Vi in the cage so Vi can't follow her, and she tells Vi that she deserves to be happy without feeling guilty, and specifically tells Vi she deserves to be with Cait. I mean that's a HUGE deal. Especially since Vi wasn't present for the journey back from the fissures, so she didn't actually see Cait and Jinx working together. In her mind they're still at square 1 for the most part.

And then Caitlyn goes and calls the guards away so that Vi can free Jinx, knowing she'll do so. I've seen a lot of people confused about Cait's line "did you really think I needed all of the enforcers at the Hexgates?" which is fair because I was also confused at first lol. But what Caitlyn is telling Vi, is that she knew VI would come to free her sister, so she did what she could to clear the way for Vi to be able to do that. She's basically telling Vi in that moment that she's moved past her anger enough to let Jinx go, and to stop hunting her. It's such a freeing moment for Vi, because the two people she loves the most, who were furiously trying to kill each other before, have finally made peace. It takes a huge weight off of Vi's shoulders, no longer having to be stuck between two people she loves who hate each other. And Jinx has just told her "go get your girl" and now Caitlyn is standing there smugly telling her that she basically let Jinx go. That's why Vi reacts the way she does, it's such a relief to be past that conflict and have permission from both of them to be happy.

Anyway, I thought it was a great moment, and even though it wasn't a long conversation between Cait and Jinx, I think it's exactly what they both needed. It was the closure they needed to move on. If Jinx had stayed around, they still would have had more work to do surely before they actually got along well, but it was suddenly possible after that talk. And I hope that in the continuation of this story that they finally get there someday. Because based on the ending I really don't think Jinx is dead. And Caitlyn is holding Jinx's monkey bomb in her hand, contemplating and looking up the Hexgate plans. She has to be looking to see if there was any way Jinx could have escaped, probably because Vi is devastated and she wants to help take that hurt away. Imagine if Cait could bring Vi her sister back? Or at least if she could let Vi know for sure that she wasn't dead. That would be huge. What a difference between the way these three started, and where they ended.

[yujeong]

Ok, Ok, I think I need to lay down. Yes, SandRay floored us today. Yes, Khaotung wanted to personally kill me with his acting and First with his huge eyes filled with tears. Yes, whatever the fuck TopMew had going on this episode had me pull my hair in frustration in a good way, because Mew is a hilariously horrible person and Boeing is unhinged. BUT. Listen. BostonNick stole the episode for me. That scene. That fucking scene. Everything that happened before that scene was the perfect set up. Atom setting Boston up. Cheum and co going to his house to shame him and denounce him as their friend. Nick and Dan. Their encounter at Nick's shop. It was all delicious and perfectly executed but it could never prepare me for this. We see Boston looking sad at the distance and Nick coming to him to talk (after he saw Boston's feelings about him through the fucking phone wallpaper pls, I'm not OK). He asks him and Boston is defensive but then Nick insists and Boston, in his need to have someone comfort him FINALLY, says what happened. At first Nick responds by telling him how things are; seems legit, he says, given what you've done. Boston tells him to cut it off but not in his usual way, he's not cruel or rude, he's simply asking to not be shit on rn. Nick listens and apologizes and he means it and I love it.

But Boston feels weird and cannot understand wtf is wrong with him and it's real and I love that he trusted Nick to ask him about it. And Nick's answer is perfect for Boston, because sure, for us, the audience it seems so obvious; of course Boston is doing fucked up shit in his desperation to be loved and accepted, but Boston doesn't know that. No one TOLD him that, no one SHOWED him that.

Boston's answer to that is even better, because he still doesn't understand. And he needs a more valid reason than that.

Nick's answer? Oh, my beautiful nasty little boy. He was so real for it. He needed to gather himself to say it. He needed time to utter those words. "I also did nasty shit to you, Boston" he tells him. "Maybe we belong together" What Boston said next was breathtaking. I love him for that.

He might as well have said "I love you" here. It has the same weight as that phrase. That's why Nick breaks down. That's why he kisses him like that, crying uncontrollably and telling him he missed him too. Because we already knew about Nick's feelings towards Boston. We knew the guy had an obsession turned love towards him. But with Boston it's different. And Nick thought so too before this phrase was uttered, before Boston basically confessed he has feelings for Nick, or more precisely, that Nick is special to Boston. And he proceeds to say it AGAIN, after Nick says it. He says AGAIN how he missed him and he THANKS him for staying by his side with TEARS in his own eyes. They hug while crying together, please, I'm too weak for this. And then they make LOVE. They don't just fuck, they make sweet love to each other while staring at each other's eyes and kissing and being cute and I fucking DIED right there. BostonNick is all I ever wanted and more. I need MORE, please, I can't handle myself. This episode was SO GOOD, I can't DEAL with this.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Clean [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After a difficult mission, your ex Loki has a revelation. (w/c 1.6k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Mild angst. Pining. Feelings. Smuttish. Loki x Fem Reader. A/N: I'm planning some filthy stuff soon - but for now, we're still in angsty romance era. 😇

Loki sat hunched with his back against the bathroom wall, head in his hands. Blood was smeared over the white shirt: his own and not his own. It was ripped in several places, sleeves folded up to the elbows.

“It wasn’t locked,” you said stiffly, fingers tightening around the knob. “Would it have mattered? I expect you’re quite desperate to see me like this.” He tilted his head, voice sharp, eyes tired. “Don’t you wish to capture the scene on your device? Surely Rogers would relish a commemoration of my ineptitude.”

Loki had made a scene as the team exited the Quinjet, throwing his ruined suit jacket off the roof of Stark Tower and kicking a fire bucket for good measure. His voice was choked with anger.

“Let me be,” he’d roared after Steve shouted something about medical in his direction. The Captain had turned to the rest of you with a defeated shrug, but your eyes hadn't left Loki's back as he waged a path though the doors and they slammed behind him in a flash of green.

Loki had taken the worst of the heat from the Hydra agents working undercover in downtown Chicago. He’d been cornered by three of them, and soon a capture order had turned into a triple kill—but not before taking some punishment for his efforts.

‘I tried to subdue them humanely,’ Loki had muttered afterwards, inspecting a deep gash on his forehead in the Quinjet’s sheen. ‘They wouldn’t listen to reason.’ ‘How hard did you try?’ Steve had sniped. ‘We’re in a pickle now, thanks Laufeyson. A real pickle indeed. Typical.’ To that, Loki had said nothing. He’d refused all clean-up on the way home, sitting in a fury-riddled silence that tainted the re-circulated air.

You took a step over the bathroom’s boundary, and then shrank back.

Relations between you had been frosty since you’d gone your separate ways: to this day you weren’t quite sure what had happened. One day, everything was perfect. The next—it was over. You’d chalked it up to the god settling in to life on Earth; him realising you weren’t the only person on the planet who thought the sun shone from his perfectly formed arse…but that had never felt right. Despite snooping, you’d never got a whiff of him shagging anyone else. Based on your experience with Loki, that was especially odd.

You took a deep breath, crossing the floor and extending a hand. To your surprise, he took it and heaved himself up. Fuck, you’d forgotten how heavy he was; how his forearms bulged when they flexed, how his body felt pressing down on yours as he railed you gently on the bed you’d shared.

Ok, maybe not that last one. You cleared your throat, pulling your hand back. Loki sighed, eyes cast to the floor.

“I’m filthy,” he said with an air of disgust, reflexively running a hand across his waist. Pain rippled across his features.

“You’re hurt, you need to go to—” “I’m quite well.” “Loki,” you warned. His lashes fluttered up, nailing his gaze to yours. An eyebrow cocked. Feeling your cheeks heat, you turned and switched on the shower. “Steve shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier,” you said, trying to keep the flurry of nerves from your voice. “You did what you had to do—they’d have killed you.” “Please,” Loki snorted. “They would not have killed me. I’m offended that you would even imply it.” You glanced over your shoulder. Even in his dishevelled state, he was giving every inch the haughty, regal snob that you’d fallen desperately in love with. And that was the problem, wasn't it? It was the only version of him you'd ever been granted.

“Then why are you in such a state?” Loki’s brow furrowed. “A what?” “Why are you upset?” “I’m not upset.” “You were literally sitting on the floor with your head in your hands.” “It’s an Asgardian victory custom.” “Loki…”

His jaw clenched as you leant against the sink and his keen eyes darted over your face. “I…tried not to kill them,” he said through gritted teeth. It was the same voice he’d used when the two of you had ‘the conversation’—you hadn’t heard it since. An icy finger trailed down your spine at the bitterness in his voice as he said, “I failed.”

Understanding blossomed through your mind. You remembered a cold winter’s night, Loki curled naked against your back, confessing his deepest secret while he thought you’d slept. I’m afraid I’ll never be good, he’d whispered in the dark; that I’ll always be stained with the curse of my past.

You realised the mask of stoicism had slipped from your face at the exact moment Loki’s expression shifted. His gaze broke, returning to the floor. “You should leave,” he said. “You’re not safe with me.” The echo of the last time you’d been alone together—the same words. Does he remember?

Pushing off the sink, you shuffled towards him, cupping his forearm. The grit of dried blood rubbed beneath your fingertips as you squeezed. “You can’t think that. It’s been years…”

Suddenly Loki’s hands ran up your cheeks, thumbs pressing into your jaw as your back met the wall. He’d pinned you under the shower, speckles of water hitting off his shoulder and splattering your skin. His eyes searched yours: all fire, and destiny.

“I’ll never be free,” he said. His gaze dropped to your lips and back to your eyes. “I’ll never be clean.”

You caressed the well-trodden path his buttons made up the front of his shirt. Still beautifully tailored despite the dirt, and sweat, and blood. “Not with that attitude,” you said, and his brows peaked. “Everyone knows your history, Loki. We need you here. We want you here.” “And you?”

The shower seemed very loud all of a sudden. Especially me. “You really have to ask?” You brushed the sides of his shirt apart and Loki swallowed, his eyes closing a heartbeat too long as your fingers lingered on the bruise forming over the flat of his abdomen. “Loki…” you chided, tracing the blossom of indigo across his alabaster skin. “Steve was right, you should be in medical.” He snorted, hands falling by his sides. “If you’d come five minutes later, it would have been gone.” Fat droplets of water roll over the tips of his cheekbones, streaks of pale skin beneath the dust and dirt of the mission. You’ve never seen him like this. He never let you see anything other than the perfect prince; the unshakeable god. “Doesn’t it hurt?” You circled higher on his chest, appreciating the taut skin firm beneath your own. You'd swear you could see the thrum of his heartbeat.

“Always,” he said sadly, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t talking about the injuries. God, I miss this. I miss him. Now, finally, you could admit it to yourself. The weight of the confession slid from your body, circling the drain as Loki shivered, and the dark pools of his pupils spread wider.

Cautiously, your hands ran up his chest, over his shoulders, peeling the soaking shirt from his back and down his arms. It fell with a slop to the shower floor.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a faint narrow of his eyes. You licked your lips, unsure of what how to answer. What are you doing? But it was now or never. This kind of vulnerability was a particularly rare ship to dock in Loki’s harbour.

Running your palms up his neck, he groaned softly as they slid up the sharp prow of his jawline, up the bladed cheekbones and into the slick of his sodden hair. He closed his eyes, a low sigh rattling his chest. For a moment, there was only the patter of water against porcelain.

“Showing you how to be clean again,” you whispered before your lips fastened to his. Loki’s eyes shot open, one hand slamming to the tiles behind your shoulder to steady himself as you pulled away. Your heart thumped between your ribs.

Oh god, he doesn’t want it. You’ve fucked it up. Memories of the longing glances you’d seen painted on his face across the room, the brush of his touch on your arm which lasted a second too long, the anger simmering beneath his skin when he thought you’d moved on. It had all been in your head. The thought was almost too much to bear.

“Why did you stop?”

Breath caught in your throat as his words soaked through the rising steam; low and smooth. The response fell from your mouth in breathless stages, hyper-focused on the shirt plastered to his skin. “I didn’t think you wanted it, I’m sorry I—” A soft, disbelieving chuckle rumbled in his throat before he said, “How could I not want you?” Your eyes rose.

The god was fully soaked now; hair plastered to his neck like ink, shirt and trousers moulded to the sinews and meat of his body like a second skin. The last traces of dirt from his skin were gone, and the water around your feet ran clear. You pulled the back of his neck towards you.

Loki’s kiss was an eruption of desire, of pain, of need; his palm slipping on the tile behind your head before switching to your waist. It worked over your hip, your breasts, your ass, never staying in one place, never lingering too long. “Gods, I missed you, I've missed you,” he murmured wet against your cheek. You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling the sodden top over your head. “So soon?” A soft smile curled at his mouth. “We’ve wasted enough time, haven’t we?”

In answer, Loki ran a finger from the hollow of your neck between your breasts. A chill skated across your skin as your trousers dissolved— his too. He pressed his body to yours, warm against the sharp sting of the tiles. Water pooled in the crevice where your skin met, Loki’s kisses sliding over your lips—one slipping into the next—pants of devotion wisping down your throat. He lifted your thigh, manoeuvring himself inside with one, liquid movement. You clasped to his shoulders, nails digging in to his flesh like he might vanish. All you could feel was his body, his presence, his faint moan of relief in your ear.

“No more living in the past,” you panted. “Loki, promise me.” He tilted his cheek into your wrist, water droplets falling from the ends of his hair to the curve of your breasts below. “A fresh start,” he said quietly, kissing the delicate skin. You groaned as he thrusted gently inside you. “Clean,” he panted, “New.” “Together,” you said. “Together,” Loki replied.

And then, among plumes of steam and the slide of bodies and wordless promises, there was no more talking.

Tags in comments ❤️

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

FIRST TIME

PAIRING : teenage!dean winchester x teenage!fem!reader (au)

SUMMARY : reader finally decides to give her virginity to dean

WARNINGS : young love. fluff. smut. horniness. cunnilingus. fingering. under-aged sex. rough sex. semi-pubic sex. unprotected p in v. aftercare. attentive dean. strong language. praise kink.

A/N : this oneshot is a prequal to homework [if you haven't read it yet, go check it out!] thank you to everyone who's read and supported it, it means the world. i plan on making a few more oneshots (that could be read on its own) in this universe. let me know what you think 😆

Your eight-month anniversary with Dean was today. In a (good) way, it felt longer. Growing up, you were taught to respect your body. You were told to wait for marriage before having a man worship at your temple. It was "the best gift you could give your husband," at least that's what they said. Until now, you haven't had a problem waiting. Sure, you had urges from time to time like any teenager, but no one had made you feel how you felt with Dean.

The longer you spent with him, the more you craved. It wasn't just his physical attributes but his personality, too. Every exchange of words, every shared moment, and every heartfelt conversation only entrenched your love even further. It was the way he protected you, cared for you, and loved you that made you feel safe. Until you, he had no interest in dating. Why would he when all he wanted from girls was something they offered him freely?

You had been the first girl ever to deny him, and that's what drew him in. He wasn't looking for a relationship, but hearing the word 'no' intrigued him. Suddenly, finding ways to get your attention was his priority. Whether it was meeting you at your locker every morning with flowers, seeing you after school to offer you a ride home, or even cornering your best friend for help winning you over, he didn't stop. It wasn't until you overhead your peers discuss how Dean dismissed any girl who engaged with him that you took him seriously.

And there he was again, at your locker, with the brightest bouquet of tulips, your favorite. His charming smile beams towards you, filling you with joy from across the hall. Students pass by, talking amongst themselves about you. "Watch, she's going to blow him off again." "How could she do that? He's so hot." "He's only trying to win her over to get in her pants. She's not even that cute." Even though it wasn't in your nature to ignore them, you chose not to cause a scene, not with them anyway.

A smile lit up your face as you focused on Dean. "Hey," You greet once you're standing before him.

"Hey, beautiful," You couldn't help but blush at the pet name, loving how it sounded coming from his mouth.

He hands you the flowers, and you happily accept them. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He leans against the locker beside yours, watching you open your own. You inhaled the bouquet before gently placing the tulips inside. "I'm sure I know the answer to this, but would you like to go out sometime?"

You close your locker and stare into his dreamy eyes as you reply, "I'd love to."

His face lit up like a kid on Christmas. It seemed he was ready for you to turn him down again, and as much as he wanted, he didn't expect you to say yes. He leaned away from the lockers as a smile stretched across his face. His infectious smile brought one of your own. You always imagined saying those words to him, and now that you did, it was better than you had dreamed it would be.

"Really? T-that's great! Does tonight work?"

"Yeah, tonight's perfect."

"Awesome, I'll pick you up at eight."

You weren't a bold person, but you couldn't resist standing on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. Your hand rests against his arm, maintaining your balance as your lips press against his face. Even though your gesture was small, he closed his eyes and enjoyed your lingering kiss. You slowly pull away and lean back on your heels. The passing crowd seemed to still at the publicly displayed affection. Hush conversations began as everyone gawked at you two. Before doubt could seep in, Dean grasped your attention.

"Don't listen to them."

You nodded, listening to his words and ignoring the others. "I'll see you tonight."

The Impala comes to a soft halt in the middle of the grassy field like it did all those nights ago. A smile appears when you realize he's recreating your first date. Dean had taken you to his favorite diner in town as the sun had set before coming here. The pur of the engine ceases, and his door creaks open. You've learned over the months to wait for your boyfriend rather than exiting Baby by yourself. Despite your protests, he insisted on being the gentleman his parents raised him to be, someone he was, only with you.

Dean helps you onto the hood, then joins. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. Your backs lean against the windshield, heads tilted towards the night sky. Stars litter the dark canvas above, shining as bright as the first time he brought you. A warm breeze blew through the trees, over the open field, and towards the Impala. Crickets play their song as the rustle of leaves hum from afar. It was a scene out of a romance novel.

A content smile found its home on your face. You didn't need to talk to feel comfortable with him and were confident he felt the same. Being in his presence alone filled you with a sense of safety. Dean has had his share of fights defending you, whether you wanted him to or not. He never gave you a reason to doubt him, and you knew deep in your soul that wouldn't change. That's why you decided tonight was the night you'd give yourself to him completely.

Tearing your gaze from the stars, you direct your admiration towards your boyfriend. Feeling your stare, he turns his undivided attention towards you. You lean forward and connect your lips with his. He doesn't waste a moment to kiss you back with just as much passion. His hand runs through your hair, sending tingling sensations across your scalp. You breathe him in, quickly accepting his tongue. He leans over your body, deepening the kiss. Eager for more, you push him back against the windshield and straddle his hips. Your ass grinds against his lap, and he pulls your hair, breaking the kiss, only to attach his mouth to your neck.

Small moans escape your peppered throat, the light breeze carrying them away. The feeling of Dean's growing member rubbing against your entrance made you apathetic toward the marks he was leaving behind. You'd happily deal with the evidence later. Your eyes squeeze shut as the friction becomes overwhelming. Shallow breaths leave your lungs as tension quickly builds in the pit of your stomach.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other at the bottom of your spine, he lays you across on the hood. He hovers over your body before continuing the actions from before. Dean harshly rubs his bulging jeans against yours, and your legs wrap around his hips to pull him closer. Your body clings to his, only encouraging him to grind harder. Desperation gets the best of you when your walls clench around nothing.

"I need you," You breathe out.

Dean stops his movements and stares into your eyes, asking, "What?"

"I need you—I want you."

"A-are you sure?" He inquires as he rises to a seated position.

"Yes, D." You sit too and reassure him. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. What better time than on our anniversary?"

He hesitates but says, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't expect—I would've planned it out if I knew you were ready. I imagined our first time—your first time—to be perfect. Not in the back seat of my car; You mean so much more than that."

"I know, but it can still be perfect."

"How?"

"Well..." You take his hand in yours, squeezing gently. "I think losing my virginity to the boy I love under the stars sounds pretty perfect to me."

"That sounds great, but the 'where' part is still an issue."

You glance around your surroundings before settling with, "Right here."

His eyebrows draw together. "On the hood?"

"Beats the backseat for my first time. And, I don't know, having sex on the hood of the Impala sounds sexier."

A dry chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head. "Does it now?"

"Mhm," You hum as you scoot closer.

He inhales sharply once you gently press your lips against his throat, instantly finding his sweet spot. Because your relationship hadn't gone further than second base, you both had gotten pretty good at teasing each other. You had to admit, there were a few times when you almost caved out of sheer lust. But tonight was different: you were ready. A grin plays on your lips as your other hand trails down to his tightening jeans. Groans fall from his mouth as you palm his erection and sink your teeth into his sensitive skin.

Your hand undoes his pants, and before you can slip your hand in, he lays you back down. His lips capture yours, and you quickly move in sync. You pull his shirt up, hinting you wanted it off. He complies and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the ground. As he kneels in front of you, you pull his jeans down and see his boner through the fabric of his boxers.

After discarding his pants, he reaches for yours to peel them off. As he did that, you quickly took your shirt off. You were both now in your undergarments, staring hungrily at one another. He hovers over you and kisses down your neck towards your chest. Your body goes hot, growing hornier by the second. His fingers drag the straps of your bra off your shoulders as his mouth places wet kisses on the top of your breasts. You arch your back, giving him access to unhook your bra.

The outline of his cock presses into your clit, distracting you from your unruly thoughts. His warm tongue finds your left nipple, licking it before taking it into his mouth and gently sucking. He doesn't leave the right one unoccupied for long. His fingers lightly pinch and twist your hardened nipple. You close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure his mouth, fingers, and dick are creating. The intensity of his member grinding against your clit and the stimulation of both your nipples were driving you to the edge. Suddenly, his mouth unlatches itself from you, causing you to open your eyes in confusion.

Dean's large hands run down your thighs, sending goosebumps along your skin. His fingers loop around the waistband of your underwear, and before he goes further, he silently asks if it's okay. You nod and watch as he pries your soaked panties from your body. Instinctively, you try closing your legs, feeling insecure. Flush ran throughout your entire body. You had never been this intimate with someone, and it was frightening. He detects your lack of confidence and promptly makes you feel comfortable.

"You're so beautiful." He praises. "So much better than I ever imagined."

His fingertips lightly ran over your skin as if he were afraid to hurt you. They cupped the back of your knees and gently lifted until they bent. Dean slowly kisses down your thighs, and between each peck, he compliments you. You feel your insecurity disappear the closer he gets to your most intimate area. Without wasting another moment, his face devours your pussy as if he were a starved man. You arch your back as he licks your cunt clean, skillfully working through your folds. Your eyes roll back once his nose presses against your clit. Before you knew what was happening, you came all over his tongue.

"Oh, God," you pant with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to—I didn't know I was gonna cum so fast."

Dean lifts his head from between your thighs, the area around his mouth glossy with your juice. "Don't ever apologize, you got it?" After you nod, he dips down again, slurping up every last trace of your arousal, humming, "You taste so fucking good, princess."

You tug at his hair, squirming underneath his face. His thumb finds your bundle of nerves, rubbing it in circles, making your body unexpectedly jerk. You watch as he removes his countenance and trails kisses up your body. He lays on his side next to you before tucking his arm around your shoulders. The beating of your heart quickens as he applies the right amount of pressure you didn't know your clit needed. Your hips buck upwards while a whine slips past your lips, wanting more.

His fingers travel further down, running through your glistening folds. You knew what came next, the anticipation deafening. Slowly, he slides his index finger inside you. A content sigh falls from your mouth, enjoying how his digit drives in and out of your cunt. Dean sees your pleased and lazy smile, and a smirk emerges on his lips before adding another finger. You inhale deeply, feeling the difference between one and two fingers. It doesn't take long before his thick fingers pleasure you once again.

You bite your lip to stifle your moans, not wanting to annoy your boyfriend with your uncontrollable squeals. He notices and mumbles against the side of your mouth, "Let it out, princess. I want to hear every little sound you make."

That was all you needed to hear. Dean's fingers worked faster, taking you near the edge, and your moans told him so. They grow louder with each thrust, but the moment his fingers curled, you lost it. Your hand grabbed his hair, holding on as he fingered your g-spot. The muscles in your stomach contract, and you get that feeling again; your climax begins. You close your legs, thighs wrapping around his arm, making the high intensify. His consistency doesn't falter, and his digits fuck you, only taking you higher. Once it ends, your legs fall, and he pulls his hand away.

Your chest rises and falls, trying to catch your breath. Dean brings his drenched hand to his mouth, his eyes finding yours before closing his lips around his fingers and pulling them out at an agonizingly slow pace. Fuck, you thought. Watching him suck your fluids from his digits alone could've made you cum again. Your left-hand slips into his boxers before wrapping around his erection. A small groan falls from his lips, having never been touched like this by you. Without having to see his length, you felt it was rather long. You pumped his silky soft cock a few times and felt him twitch. His previously soaked hand pulls off his remaining clothing, freeing his large member. Your eyes widen; He's much bigger than you imagined.

How was he going to fit? You wonder. He saw the worry in your eyes and ran his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your face before kissing the tip of your nose. Dean gently grasped the hand that held him and intertwined your fingers together as he hovered over you. He nudges your knees apart, and you happily allow him between your legs. This was it. This was what you both have been waiting—what felt like anyway—an eternity for. Your mind was ready, but you weren't sure if your body was.

"It's going to be okay, sweetheart," Dean reassures. "I'll go as slow as you need."

You nod, intoxicated by his affectionate attentiveness. "Okay."

His lips connect with yours, kissing your nerves away. He rubs his tip through your folds, coating it with your wetness. You break apart and angle your head to watch his cock disappear in your awaiting pussy. The pain as he stretches your walls rips through your body, forcing your eyes shut. Your face scrunches in discomfort as he pushes in further. Whines come from your mouth as he slowly bottoms out. Dean stays still, kissing your forehead as you adjust to his size.

"I know, princess, I'm sorry. I promise it'll feel better."

You nod in response. Soon, your eyes open as the pain becomes tolerable, whispering, "Okay, you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Dean's eyes scan over your countenance, trying to detect any lies. When he saw none, he began to move. You inhale sharply as the pain rushes back. His hips stop their retraction, but you quickly shake your head in protest.

"Keep going," You say through gritted teeth.

Without question, he pulls back until his tip threatens to slip out. Slowly, he drives back in. You squeeze his hand and wrap the other around his shoulder as your legs cling to his torso. His lips pepper your face with kisses as he continues to thrust the discomfort away. Over the months, you've seen the womanizer everyone knew Dean as vanish. He always took care of you—physically, mentally, and emotionally. You couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, especially right now. His effort to soothe you seemed to have worked. The pain turned to pleasure, and you ached for more.

"Faster," You murmur into his ear.

He bit his lip, trying to distract himself from spilling his cum so soon, but the way your walls squeezed around him made it nearly impossible. Dean picks up his speed, playing his own game of russian roulette. You felt his cock twitch inside you, prompting a moan and the tightening of your insides. He buries his head into your neck, attempting to postpone his climax. The pleasure began to build in your stomach, and per his earlier request, you made it known.

"Fuck, babe. If you keep it up, I'm going to cum." He groans.

You giggle, "Isn't that the point?"

He thrusts deeper, answering, "Not until you do."

A new wave of satisfaction washes over your body, making you moan louder, begging, "Harder."

Dean complies, bucking his hips into the back of your thighs. His name fell from your lips like a prayer. You untangle your hand from his and dig your nails into his back. Sure, you had daydreamed of having sex with your boyfriend hundreds of times, but you never imagined it being this mind-blowing. His member deliciously bruises your g-spot, causing pain and pleasure to fight for dominance. Sounds you never thought you could make fall from your mouth, encouraging him to quicken his pace. The Impala rocked side to side, utilizing the suspension's swaybar with each vigorous thrust.

"Fuck, Dean. Just like that, baby. Don't stop." You beg between moans.

The tension in your belly threatened to snap any second. The area just under his waist rubs against your clit, coercing your chest to arch into his. He presses you into the warm hood, keeping your squirming to a minimum. Tears flood your eyes as your immense climax approaches. Your body tenses as it braces for your last orgasm, squeezing Dean's phallus for dear life.

"Cum on my cock, princess." He urges as he fights off his own release. "I know you can do it. Mm... 'Want to feel you come undone on my dick. C'mon, sweetheart, do it for me."

His words were all you needed to fall over the edge. Except you didn't fall, you flew. Your fluids gushed on his member as you screamed into the night air. His thrusts began to falter, but he forced himself to ride you through your high. Your toes curl while your eyes roll back, your climax taking control of your body.

Unable to fight off his orgasm any longer, he hurriedly asks, "Where do you want it?"

You can barely form words as your body shakes uncontrollably. "D-d-does-n't ma-tter."

The weight of Dean's body lifts from yours as he sits back, pulling himself out and grabbing his wet member. Your eyes refocus in time to see him accidentally ejaculate on your folds. His cock twitches again, this time spraying across your upper body. A breathy groan falls from his parted lips as ropes of hot cum coat your skin. You feel his seed drip towards your entrance, daring to breed life with you. The thought of carrying his child brings a smile to your face. No, no. You're too young, you remind yourself. Can't start a family with him yet. He bends over your body and kisses your lips. He presses his softening dick against your wet folds as you kiss him back.

"As much as I love bathing in your cum, I think I wanna clean up so we can cuddle." You pant, trying to catch your breath on the way down from your high.

He chuckles against your lips before sitting up again. "I'll be right back."

Dean climbs off the Impala and opens the back door. You lay still as the fluids threaten to leak onto the hood. He shuts the door, returning with a blanket in one hand and napkins and a water bottle in the other. He sets the blanket on the windshield before hopping next to you. He wipes the mess away and uses the water to remove the stickiness left behind. Once he finished cleaning you up, he tossed the dirty napkins off the car. He lays beside you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into his bare chest, listening to the beat of his heart as he pulls the blanket around you two.

He stares at the night sky, gazing at the stars, when you confess, "I love you."

Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head, mumbling against your hair, "I love you too, sweet pea."

"Thank you for being my first."

His hand gently lifts your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. "Thank you for trusting me to be your first."

Your lips curl into a smile, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

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[terrestrialnoob]

Continuation from Part 1

Jazz took a deep breath. It's going to be fine. She can be normal for one night. Even if Harley is willing to befriend weirdos on a whim she doubted anyone else would. The shadow beneath her feed rolled like boiling tar and emotions that weren't hers poked at her mind.

"It's okay, Jet. They're not going to hurt me. I'm just... nervous."

She took another deep breath, she'd been told to ignore the closed sign, and entered the Coal Mine. She wasn't sure what she was expecting with a name like that, but it looked like a normal, if kinda rustic bar. It was empty except for a blonde woman in the back of the room, setting up a big table with food and drinks.

"Sorry, we're closed to the pub-" She started speaking before she looked up, stopping once she saw Jazz. "Oh! You must be Jazz, Harley's new friend.... You're early."

Jazz's face turned a little red but she stomped down her unease. "Yep! That's me. Early bird Jazz."

The blonde woman laughed wholeheartedly, but Jazz didn't think her joke was that funny. The woman walked over to her, "I'm Dinah, welcome to my bar. I don't often host girls night, but you got lucky."

Jazz shook her offered hand. "It's a nice place!" Though, Jazz didn't really go to bars. She didn't drink a lot and bars weren't really her scene.

"Feel free to grab a snack, grab a drink. I'm going to finish getting ready. Everyone else tends to be late. Which I guess means you're not early, you're here when we asked you."

"Oh, alright! I'll remember to be late next time." Why did she say that? That's so stupid and rude.... But Dinah laughed again. "Right, um, if it's okay, I did bring something." Jazz offered the plastic bag she decided to reuse with a tray of fudge she made inside it.

"Oh, that looks good. I'll go get a knife and plate to set it out with the other snacks."

Jazz more or less sat in awkward silence as Dinah did her thing getting ready. She wanted to offer to help, but this is Dinah's bar. If anyone else was there, Jazz wouldn't feel the need to help, and she didn't want to get in the way. But this was a private party, so maybe Jazz should offer to help. Just to carry stuff to the table or-

Then the door opened again and two women came through. One was in an expensive looking leather jacket and with short brown hair and the other had a cheap looking leather jacket with long brown hair. The short haired woman started talking before she was even all the way through the door. "Dinah, you would not believe how bad traffic is downtown today. An entire hour to get from 19th to- oh, hello."

Jazz jumped to her feet when the woman addressed her. "Hi, I'm Jazz."

"Selina." She said with a raised eyebrow.

"Harley invited her." The long haired woman said. "You really should read the texts."

"I don't want to set a precedent."

"Still." The long haired woman nodded towards Jazz. "Name's Helena."

"It's nice to meet you." Jazz said with a smile, but it started to slip at the sight of Selina.

Selina gave her a hard look, sizing her up, judging. "You're Harley's friend?"

Jazz rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "She's been to my apartment... and invited me here."

There was a beat of silence before Selina gave an amused huff and said, "You do seem like her type."

Dinah laughed again - maybe she was just easy to make laugh. The two walked over to the table and Selina's eyes immediately settled on the fudge. She opened her mouth to comment but the door opened again and Harley burst through, pulling someone behind her.

"We're here! I even got a special something for- Jazz! You're here already!" She turned to the woman behind her and quickly pushed something into her hands before rounding back to the rest in the room. "Heya Jazzy! I'm happy you could make it! This is my wife - Ivy."

Ivy stepped forward and eyed Jazz with more curiosity than the suspicion Selina had or Helena's indifference or Dinah's more welcoming demeanor. "It's nice to meet you. Harley told me about her little visit to your home. You look... normal."

Jazz knew her face was even redder than before. "Well, normal is the goal, right?"

There was a beat when the other's in the room just seemed to stare at her. Harley barked out her own harsh laughter, "Not here it ain't!"

"O-oh..." Jazz didn't have a frame of reference for this. If normal wasn't what they wanted, then what did they want? Eccentric scientist like her parents? Harley was a vigilante, maybe that's what she should emulate?

"Don't worry." Ivy said as she passed Jazz to sit at the table, a potted plant on a nearby windowsill suddenly, and far too quickly, bloomed. "From what I've heard, I'm sure you'll fit in."

"Harley said that too. I'm just worried. I've never had my own friends before." Oh, shit, she shouldn't have said that. Only weirdos don't have friends.

"Same." Ivy said and picked up a piece of Jazz's fudge.

"Here too." Helena added, and gave the piece of fudge she'd been holding for a while a curious look. It must be unusual for everyone to react this way.

"IS THAT FUDGE? I love fudge!" Harley said and grabbed a handful to stuff in her mouth. "This is so good! Where'd it come from?"

"Oh. I made it. Didn't want to come empty handed, you know." Jazz said, joining the other's at the table and taking her own piece before Harley ate it all. "It's my mom's recipe, but it doesn't quite taste the same without the low-level radiation."

"Oh, you have to put the radiation in it next time!"

"Do not do that." Three other women at the table said in almost unison. Oddly enough, it was Helena who didn't join in.

"Why was there radiation in your mother's fudge?" Selina asked as Dinah started to deal out cards.

"My parents are kinda mad scientists - kinda also mad occultists. All the food in the house was contaminated, and part of the reason my brother and I are vegetarian." Jack and three.

Dinah seemed to loose her breath before wheezing out, "Even more the same."

"What?"

"I'm also a vegetarian, mainly because of the environmental nightmare farming is." Ivy supplied, she bet conservatively.

"Right, that's why my brother's friend is vegan."

"Wait, how does the contamination equate to being vegetarian?" Helena asked - getting excited as Dinah reveals the flop, a good hand then. "Did it make meat taste bad or...?

"Oh, it brought it to life." Jazz said as she traded a card. "I can't tell you how many reanimated headless turkeys and chickens I had to kill. Not to mention the hotdogs Dad trained to attack intruders, they also attacked friends and visitors too. That was too much, even for Spike."

"Holy shit, that's amazing." Harley said while Ivy and Selina looked horrified, Dinah was as entertained as Harley, and Helena was enjoying herself. "Can't say I've ever fought reanimated deli meats."

"Bruce has." Selina commented, and directed at Jazz, "My long-term boyfriend. Thought about marrying him for a little while, but it didn't really suit either of our lifestyles."

No animosity, only relief. Jazz smiled at her, "Different people have different needs. Not everyone needs to be married with children."

Dinah laughed, "And boy, does Bruce have children! How many does he have now? Six? Seven? I thought I read on the news he's got a new one."

"Technically yes, but he's just fostering Duke, not adopting. Once his parents are well again, he'll want to go home." Selina saw Jazz's curious face, but deflected to lighter gossip. "I'm not the motherly type, not that I'd be cruel to any kids I could possibly have especially if they're Bruce's-" She sighed "-but Bruce lives for his kids. He has four adopted children, one biological child from another woman - it's fine, we both have our fun - and two foster children.... I think."

"You're not sure?" Helena questioned. Dinah put out another card.

"I think Steph is a foster, but I never saw the paperwork for it. At the very least, she's living in his house." Selina said, then stared at Ivy. "Not getting lucky, dear?"

Ivy sneered and put her cards down. "I don't even know why I agree to this game."

"Is it the one game all night, or do you do other stuff?" Jazz asked. She's good at poker. Between her enhanced empathy and psychology degree, she was rarely fooled.

"Depends on the place. Dinah likes poker, so we play it when she hosts." Helena said, she looked at Jazz, then Harley and folded her cards. "And we quit when Harley wins all our money and play something else."

"That's right baby!" Harley cheered and slammed her cards face up on the table, "No one beats the Harley!"

Jazz and Selina put their cards down too, face up.

"I guess there are exceptions..." Harley said with a mischievous grin.

Selina grinned too, "Someone has to loose all of Bruce's money."

Jazz grinned as the pot was pushed her direction. "Well, then let me know when it gets boring of just me and Harley playing."

The entire table laughed. Yeah, Jazz was starting to feel like she really would fit in here.

[winterarmyy]

Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 2.9k++

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.

P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.

It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.

Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.

She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.

Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?

Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.

Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,

"Oh you're back?"

"How's the team?"

"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."

"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."

"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"

But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."

And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.

For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.

And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.

Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.

Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.

Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.

And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.

When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.

For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.

"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.

"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.

"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."

Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.

But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.

Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.

Something is wrong.

Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.

"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."

 "...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"

As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.

His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.

"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.

At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"

But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."

He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"

Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.

What is happening?

Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.

Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.

His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.

The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.

Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.

Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.

Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.

"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.

Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.

Will it work though?

Well, she got to have to try for it work.

She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.

When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.

The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.

However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.

There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.

"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.

But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."

The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."

Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.

But, does she?

Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.

After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.

Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.

His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."

Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.

It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.

The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.

Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.

He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.

This is not Bucky.

She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.

Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.

His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"

Fuck, it feels so good.

"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.

He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.

He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.

He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.

"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."

She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.

This is getting out of hand.

Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.

She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.

This is wrong.

This has to stop.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.

"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.

God, what if he doesn't care?

What if he'll get mad and force it on her?

She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.

"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.

As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.

"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.

Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.

She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.

He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.

It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.

She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.

As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.

But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.

But what if he had something to hold on to?

A hope to look forward to?

A person to protect?

Or a home to go back to?

Would he still be the same monster he had been before?

She have not a slightest clue.

But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.

And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.

Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!

[sweeterelease]

regulus needs someone to kiss. pandora got him into this stupid muggle romance novel and while he can admit it's good writing, all the kissing going on inevitable makes him remember his past experiences, experience. he can't get his brain to stop comparing every affectionate scene with the three-way incident he had with barty and evan in third year. it wasn't even a kiss for merlin's sake, just awkward lips and cheeks pressing against each other, honestly, what were they thinking?

anyway, now he can't help the memory coming back whenever the male lead grabs his partner's face in his hands, it's actually a problem. so he'll listen to dorcas' just kiss someone else, that way those bastards won't be your only reference. dorcas is always right, maybe it could work. the issue now is where in earth does he get someone to kiss him?

he'll figure it out tomorrow. now, dinner is ready and he'll do pretty much anything to get his mind off the book’s happenings for a bit. regulus came in later than usual, the great hall is filled and it's kind of hard to walk through the sea of people, so he bumps into someone's back. shit, a gryffindo— oh hi reg, are you looking for sirius?

regulus stares into james potters' eyes, the boyish grin, he ponders. do the cons outdo the pros in this situation? would the consequences be worth it? hmm. james calls his name a second time and waits patiently, after a couple of seconds without response his eyes wander around nervously.

would you like to kiss me? he finds himself asking, in the middle of a crowded room, with his friends waiting for him at his house's table and his older brother looking at him curiously from across the hall.

james blinks once, twice, three and four times. he clears his throat and sorry, don't think i caught that right? it sounds out of breath, regulus can't tell if it's a good or bad sign.

regulus repeats himself, not sure what's so difficult about a yes or no answer. he continues with i need, um— experience, regulus feels a growing blush at that, definitely not a good sign.

experience. james calls, it's then when regulus catches the deep crimson around the older's cheeks, nose, neck? merlin, it's everywhere. is it really that embarrassing to be asked for a kiss by regulus? well then.

right. i apologize for asking that was— hands wrap around regulus' neck to pull him up. he can't do much but melt into james' embrace and take his kiss.

regulus blinks, he expected james to kiss like he does pretty much anything else, big, loud, unapologetic, and without holding back. but this kiss is tender, a tentative brush of the lips, almost fragile, and he holds regulus like he's made out of glass, like he's sad it has to end. frankly, it's sweet.

james pulls back and stares into regulus eyes, searching. he's shaking, regulus notices, and it takes until his feet meet the ground again to recover from whatever spell this man has put him through, actually— he's not sure it's over quite yet.

was that 'experience' enough? james rasps, brown eyes now glued to regulus' lips. he snakes both hands up the taller's back to mirror the ones still holding his jaw, relishing in the shivers he feels erupting. regulus stares into james potters' eyes again, the slightly bruised lips, he ponders.

no.

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 6: Wet Cat

Hey guys! So there may be some confronting scenes from this chapter onwards! (suicide mentions, panic attacks, abusive actions, etc) I will notify you at the start of the chapters if there is any from here on!

You feel sick.

Extremely sick.

The day you decided to have off left you thinking things over. Your mother basically lost her job, your father had shown aggressive behaviours in front of the two Waynes – not that they would care much but it was humiliating to think about – and on top of that the Waynes have proven that they will stoop so low!

All because you tried to keep your civilian identity a secret.

Telling your mother went as good as could be expected. She yelled, she walked around frantically, she smashed a plate and then she left.

Knowing her it would be your job to find a new job she can have. So, you open your laptop and start browsing. The laptop is old and barely works but it makes do. You scroll through the many websites for job searching.

You send the possible jobs to your mother before deciding that that was enough and closing your laptop. You open up your phone and browse through Instagram. As your scrolling a message notification pops up from an unknown number and you feel your head hurt – You’re sure this will be something stupid that will get you into trouble.

Pressing on the notification you read through the message.

"Hello,

I am Richard “Dick” Grayson. I am messaging you on behalf of Bruce Wayne as he doesn't want you contact taking up space."

You quirk a brow. You aren't an idiot, there's no links or anything pertaining to scam material and judging by how the message is written you doubt it's a prank.

You respond. It's the polite thing to do and you need some good karma.

"Hi! Is there something he needed?"

You cringe slightly at the exclamation mark, you only included it so he wouldn't think too poorly of you - though looking back on it you doubt it'll change much. He doesn't respond, surprise surprise, you sigh in frustration and turn off your phone.

Looking at the clock on the wall you see it's only ten in the morning. You couldn't be bothered to wait until night to rest so you make your way to your bed and fall into a nice sleep.

Meanwhile Dick was weirded out and confused, why did you seem so happy and excited in the message? Sure it wasn't much but punctuation changes everything!

He had only messaged because he wanted to harass you into blocking him so that you could get into trouble for not knowing what was going on - with the only way of knowing being through him.

But now, now he feels... Off. It's not like he feels bad but he doesn't feel right either.

He scoffs and turns off the phone, honestly he doesn't know how to respond to begin with. He leaves his room at the manor and walks down to the kitchen and passed Damian who was entertaining himself with Titus.

Dick grabs some water and leans against the counter in thought. If he was going to harass you he needed to be witty with it to the point of insanity otherwise you wouldn't get annoyed enough.

Opening up his phone once more he drafts up another message.

"He wants you to head down to the cafe in downtown Gotham."

He pauses, there's a couple cafes he's visited with his girlfriends before, despite the fact it was in a shady area.

"He said to go to The Wayne Memorial Cafe"

Dick waits for a response or even for the read sign to pop up but nothing happens. He furrows his brows, it's ten in the morning, what could you be doing that is more important than speaking to one of the members of the most influential family in Gotham? No, America!

Sleeping. That was what you were doing. You were enjoying it too.

That was of course until you were rudely awoken by your phone ringing with an unknown contact. You drowsily glance at it and answer the phone.

"Hello...?"

God. Your voice sounded like shit. You bitterly scowl at your voice.

"Finally. It's rude to ignore people's messages!" Dick chastises. You scrunch your nose in disgust and hang up immediately. You know you said you would try and be in his good graces but frankly you don't have the will power right now.

You quickly add his contact so you'd be less surprised and you turned off your notifications. You glance at his messages and raise a brow, why would Bruce want to meet up with you?

You sigh before sitting up and stretching slightly. You doubt Bruce would accept you not going.

You dress in something comfortable before grabbing your keys and your phone. You would bring your earbuds but you needed to stay vigilante if you were heading downtown.

The bus ride to the train station was crowded and the train was worse. This better be worth it.

You walk down to the cafe. The Wayne Memorial Cafe was made for Martha and Thomas Wayne, obviously, and is one of the nicest places in Gotham. Bruce funds it so it can stay open, clean and cozy.

You personally don't mind it, it's a nice small part of Gotham that seems untouched, out of place in downtown.

Approaching the cafe you notice some things off. There was no one around or inside the cafe and the lights were off. You couldn't see any movement so there couldn't be anyone inside either... The door was cracked open slightly letting out the air conditioning.

Opening the door to the cafe you were greeted with a bucket of ice cold water dumped on your head, the, luckily plastic and not metal, bucket hitting your head on the way down.

It feels like stones just fell in your stomach as the cold water drenches everything. Your clothes, your hair, your socks, your phone.

You look down, sensing someone nearby. You hear snickering and feel even sicker.

Of course it was a joke, Dick had thought it would be funny to do this.

You feel frustrated. You want to scream, punch, anything. But, instead, you feel tears flooding your eyes and the warm water contrasting with the cold water falling down your cheeks.

There's a lump in your throat and suddenly you're back in elementary school, kids surrounding you as your pinned to your locker and your water bottle is dumped on you. You had provided wrong answers to those kids on purpose and now you were paying the price.

They laughed, pointed fingers then left you damp and humiliated in a crowded hallway. You couldn't even be spared the jokes made afterwards because everyone saw. Everyone knew.

The jokes weren't horrible, just cruel.

You sniffle, you choke back a sob as you're brought back to the present. You furrow your brows angrily and you're sure your face looks ugly as you lift your head to glare at Dick Grayson who had stopped laughing and was now surprised.

You scoff, no words would come out. You're not sure you even wanted to speak to begin with. What would have even said to someone so influential? Nothing that wouldn't of gotten you in deeper shit.

To your amazing luck a clap of thunder rings through the tense, choking air and rain starts to pour down.

The sky was fine before, why now did it decide to rain? Why did life constantly fuck you over? You were so done!

You turn and walk off. Looking up at the crying clouds your scowl lifts slightly, at least now you aren't the only person who will be drenched and you can brush it off easily.

Dick was confused. It was funny at first. You looked like a wet cat, you looked stupid - it matched your opinions on Aranea.

But, then you were silent. That threw him off. Silence isn't something he particularly likes when he does something like that.

He saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, it was almost impossible to see though due to how soaked you were. He notices how the tears drop onto your now ruined phone - one that he doubts you can replace due to your financial status.

Still, you're just standing there, silent. It was unnerving. He couldn't see your eyes but he could tell that you were probably in your own head - memories maybe? Either way the silence was making him feel bad.

He expected yelling, screaming, punching or something! Something that could get you into more trouble. But this. This was just painful to watch. Guilt is the first word that comes to mind. He feels guilty.

He watches you lift your head, he's prepared for you to yell. You don't. You... Glare? That's not fair. Now he feels like a bad guy. He feels like the rich douche bullying the broke weakling.

He watches as you flinch slightly at the rain starting. You don't seem to notice your own actions. He grimaces as he watches you leave, he was supposed to be the hero in this scenario but looking back he doesn't even know how he could have been seen as a hero at all.

You are just a civilian, you just have opinions that differ. He knows more than anyone that people don't have to love what everyone else loves. He also knows that you took your hatred to a maximum - but never targeted Aranea directly.

He glances at his phone, he filmed the whole thing and had planned to send it to the group chat but now it just feels wrong to do.

The others know of his plan though and are awaiting the video. Surely, they'll also realize how south this all went and back off from (Reader)... Right?

Right.

So, with that thought in mind he sends the video to the lively GC and shuts off his phone. He has to make it up to you, otherwise his guilty conscience won't settle and calm down.

[aduh0308]

see if i can help~? [choi yeonjun]

summary: you were never afraid to talk about anything personal with yeonjun, which was why it wasn't a big deal when you told him you've been having trouble pleasuring yourself lately... it just doesn't feel as good anymore. what you weren't expecting, however, was him offering to help, saying he can make you feel as good as you want to... and why would you say no? genre: b2l, smut (p with like a lil plot), non-idol au warnings: dom!yeonjun x sub!fem!virgin!reader, soft!dom and slight hard!dom yj, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, vaginal penetration, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, unprotected sex, creampie + breeding kink, bulge kink, slight praise kink, hand holding, alcohol consumption, reader hasnt shaved, reference to reader getting off to the thought of him previously, calls her doll and baby, edging, nipple play for a sec, handjob, slight sub!yeonjun, hes a crybaby lol, semi-public sexy time scene, she calls him 'pretty' and 'pretty boy' and 'good boy' word count: 6.3k 🎧 — gentleman (gallant) + jenny (studio killers) + all mine (plaza) + so high school (taylor swift) taglist: @agustdiv1ne @beom-pyu @yxnjvnnie @junsmintchoco @liverspaghett @sayitdido @fairyofshampgyu @tyungelic an: happy bday yj~~ is this the beginning of adas comeback? who knows 🤭 (this is for all y'all waiting for this since july 2023, i sincerely apologize) + thank you so much to @chyuuiung for being such a sweetheart and proofreading for me ❤️

Your phone rings and you sigh at the obnoxious song your best friend had replaced the default for months ago. You still haven't changed it, but you're not completely sure why. You obviously don't love the song, but you do love your best friend, and you guess it's just because it reminds you of him that you keep it.

And... it's him calling now. You pick up your phone in your palm, swipe the 'accept' button, and hold it up to your ear.

"YN. GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!!!"

You flinch, holding the phone at arms length. Ears ringing, you yell into the speaker, "STOP YELLING JJUN!!"

"YOU'RE YELLING TOO, IDIOT!" You can hear him even from this distance.

"I'LL STOP IF YOU STOP."

"Fine. Truce accepted." Yeonjun sighs into the receiver, pausing for a moment. You're just about to ask why he's calling when he speaks again, like he spaced out for a second and then brought it back. "You still have to come over, though."

You stare at the state of your desk. A deadline for your college assignment is almost upon you, and you've got multiple papers and electronic devices spread out before you. "Why.. Jjunie, I've got so many things I need to do..."

And this time, you should probably ACTUALLY do them instead of having your hand down your pants.

"Yn.. did you forget what day it is?" His voice is quiet, soft but prodding slightly, and you can't help but feel guilty when you check the date. You had forgotten.

It was your 8th friendiversary, the anniversary of the time Yeonjun had decided to talk to the cute girl who was practically in charge of his Lit class. And every day since then he's stuck by you like an actual idiot.

"Yeonjun, I'm really sorry, I- I forgot and I've got a whole lot of stuff I need to do... I don't know if I can make it tonight."

Your heart is tight in your chest and you put a hand in your hair, looking down at your papers.

"One night, Yn. One night is all we need to celebrate, we do this every year, can't you take off 24 hours?" You can hear the plea in his voice, and it makes you take a deep breath.

You close your eyes and think this through. The paper is due in three days, you're more than three quarters done and that took only four days, that leaves enough time to finish and proofread and...

"Fine. Alright. I'm coming. Give me 15 minutes?"

You can almost hear the smile in his voice when he responds. "See you then."

And 15 minutes later, you're there, on his couch and sipping his wine.

"Tell me what you've been up to, Jjunie. Haven't seen you in at least a few weeks," You grin, smiling at him over your glass.

"You know... Work, school, just the usual."

You raise your eyebrows teasingly, then wiggle them. "Any special girls you have your eye on?"

You say it in a joking way, but deep inside, you hope the answer is no. But you're not exactly sure WHY that would be... you've never been opposed to his previous girlfriends before. In fact, you liked most of them.

Yeonjun lowers his gaze to the floor with a shy smile before looking back up at you, and that's the moment you know. "Well... actually... there IS this one girl I've been thinking about recently."

You smile, because that's what you did every time you've had this conversation previously. "Yes? Who is she?"

His cheeks go pink and he waves you away. "No one. I- No one."

Well, that's different. Usually he told you without hesitation, some girl from uni or a coworker or even someone he met online. But now he's being a little suspicious...

You don't push it, though. That was an unspoken rule between the two of you: you don't push the other person to tell you something unless it really, really matters.

"Anyways, what about you? Any boys on your mind?"

You press your lips together and think for a moment. "Ye- No... wait yes, no, no never mind. I wish though."

Yeonjun raises his eyebrows at you and smiles slightly, adjusting his position on the couch next to you to cross one leg over the other. "And how come you wish?"

His movement had brought him a little closer to you, and, much to your confusion, you can feel your heart rate speed up.

You ignore it and mimic his position. "Cause. I've got a little bit of a problem, and sometimes I wish I had someone to help."

"Problem?"

You stifle a giggle and take another sip of your wine. "Of the sexual variety."

"How so?"

Yeonjun's face is devoid of anything uncomfortable, and you shrug. "Getting myself off doesn't feel as good as it used to. I don't know, maybe I just need to switch it up but... whatever, it probably sounds dumb." You laugh awkwardly, rubbing the nape of your neck.

"Do you have any toys you could use?" he asks, and for a moment you think he's making fun of you, but the way he holds your gaze with his is dead serious.

You nod. "I've tried... it didn't work very well. Just felt like one dull thing the entire time. I KNEW that I came, it just didn't feel like it, you know?"

Yeonjun nods. "And you don't have anyone to fuck you?"

The way he says it is so casual it makes your cheeks grow hot. Almost embarrassed at your inability to find a sexual partner, you shake your head. "No." You're not even sure if he knows you're a virgin.

Yeonjun looks down at his drink for a moment, other hand fiddling with the hem of the black tank he's wearing, the one that makes you focus a little too much on his collarbones whenever he wears it. Then he looks back at you, cheeks a little pink.

"Do you... want to, um, see if i can help?" he asks, and you understand why his cheeks were flushed. Your own are hot, and you swallow slightly.

To be fair, it's not like you don't want him to. Your eyes trace the obviously attractive lines of his body and when he catches you looking, his eyes go wide.

He rushes to apologize for his words, but you shake your head quickly. "No, you're good, don't- don't apologize, of course we can, I mean, you're hot and you're offering and I-"

Yeah, you decide to shut your mouth here, which is probably the smartest decision you've ever made, because holy shit, you just told your best friend you think he's hot.

And he noticed. Now he's smirking at you, eyebrows raised and the most cocky look on his face.

To your surprise, he doesn't say anything else, simply moving to a separate position on the couch and spreading your legs slightly. One is off the couch, the other over the back, and it's uncomfortable but not so much that you mind.

Yeonjun's laying between your legs and he looks up at you from beneath his lashes. Your already speeding heart beats even faster at the look he gives you, tongue swiping over his lips just once.

"Tell me if you change your mind?"

Him checking in is sweet, but you can tell you're dripping right now, and prolonging this is only making you more impatient. You give him your most annoyed expression and he laughs, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your jean shorts. Yeonjun tugs them off with one movement and you can feel his torso tense with a short breath.

You almost giggle to yourself at the way his eyes blow out at the visible wet spot in your panties. You slide them off yourself, watching his reaction again to your bare pussy in front of him, a swallow cutting off whatever words he was going to say.

And all of a sudden, you're hit with a wave of insecurities unfamiliar to you, especially unfamiliar around Yeonjun. 'Does my body look weird to him? Will he not like it? Oh shit, I haven't shaved down there in months, what if he backs off because he doesn't like body hair...'

You try to clear your thoughts, focusing on his expression alone. Lips pushed out in a pout, black hair swept out of his face, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. You bite your own lip and move to close your legs. "Jjun... is it bad?"

His gaze snaps up to yours so fast its unsettling, eyes going wide once more. They narrow slightly as a smirk finds its way to his perfect plump lips. Ah shit, now you were simping for his lips. Again.

"No, not bad at all, just thinking about how long my best friend kept her pretty pussy from me..."

His words leave you speechless, immobile as he pushes your legs apart once more, slender fingers on your now bare thighs making you tremble. Yeonjun just smiles up at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "For someone saying she wasn't sensitive enough, you sure do get wet so easily, don't you, n/n?"

"Fuck you, Jjun, it's not usually like this."

You scowl down at him, because it's never like this... you can feel your slick dripping down to your ass. Shit, he's got you all a mess.

But your words are apparently the wrong thing for the situation, because the look on his face is nothing but cocky. "Am I that hot then? Hot enough that I've got you dripping and I haven't even touched you?"

You can't meet his eyes. Because the answer's yes, it's always been yes.

Since you met him that day 8 years ago, you've had at least a minor crush on him. It would wean itself whenever he had girlfriends-- you're not a homewrecker. But it was always there to some extent, presenting itself through hot cheeks at his compliments, racing heartbeats when he got too close.

As of late, though, your little crush presented itself through your hands shoved down your pants at night. You know it's bad, gross, perverted even, but you can't help it. He came over to your house and you listened to music in your bed together? You're laying in the same bed at night, playing the same music, toying with your clit.

You've even gone so far as to spell his name out against your sensitive bud with circles of your fingertip, gasping out "oh fuck, Yeonjun, don't stop..." as you cum.

You absolutely never expected any of that to come close to coming true.

And now, here he is, between your thighs, awaiting your response with an expectant look.

"I...-" You cut yourself off out of need to preserve your self esteem. "Will you shut up and just touch me like you're supposed to?"

Your gaze settles on the ceiling, unable to give another glance to the sight between your legs.

"Jjun, I swear to god, if you don't— oh, fuck!"

Your hand shot out to grab his hair without a single thought— his tongue had found its place between your folds so fast that your thighs jolted together involuntarily.

"I fucking hate you, why would you just start there? You know I'm— fuck— know I'm a, Jjun, stop!— you know I'm a virgin, n-never..."

He barely listens to you, eyes on your pussy, and just laughs. Laughs when your head lolls back against the couch cushion, your legs shaking. Your grip on his hair doesn't cease, it only tightens the more his tongue laves your soaked cunt.

Yeonjun is your opposite— a master at this, you have no idea how many girls he's fucked before, you know you're not his first. But right now, his face between your legs while he absolutely devours you, you couldn't care less.

He knows exactly where to do what, catching your clit between his lips with a hum. Obscene sounds are all you can hear as he laps at your wetness, acting like you're the best thing he's ever tasted.

His hands are gentle on your thighs, pushing them farther apart to taste you even better. They meet your stomach to push you back down when your hips shift up to rut against his face, and the feeling makes your stomach twist in pleasure.

"Pretty doll's so pretty under me, don't worry, I'll make your first time so good, promise.." Yeonjun's tone is a purr against you, and you whine. He only coos, "Awh, baby, did you think I wasn't gonna take care of you? Gonna make you feel so good, like you've never felt before.."

You look down at him, tears filling your waterline. "Jjun, feels good 'lready, don' know if I can take more..."

"I've got you, alright? You can let go for me baby, never gonna hurt you."

Your mind is fuzzy, pleasure rolling up every limb of your body in soft tingly ways— Yeonjun's lips have you a goner so easily it's almost embarrassing. Not gone enough, however, to skip over the fact that his hips are rolling against the cushions in a rhythm not unlike the one he was eating you out with.

"C-can you use your fingers, please?" you gasp, rolling your hips against his face with so much desperation its almost embarrassing.

But the familiar tightening sensation in your stomach is building, and when the finger Yeonjun's nestled between your walls curls in towards your stomach, your walls are fluttering around his single digit.

A broken whine leaves your lips when the sensation is ripped away from you. Yeonjun looks at your shaking form with a look that makes you melt— eyes soft on yours, lips pulled into a small smile. Lips that are connected to your cunt with a single string of your arousal.

"Why'd you stop, was close..." Your dignity is gone by now, and you have no qualms about sounding pouty and needy to him.

"You're not gonna cum around anything other than dick your first, alright? Gonna make it worth your while," he hums, standing and pulling the hem of his black tank over his head.

Your lips form a small o of surprise. It's not like you haven't seen him shirtless before. You have, plenty of times. But fuck, he really isn't that scrawny boy from grade 11 anymore.

Smooth honey-gold skin, ripples of muscles under his skin cause slight shadows on his torso and arms. His shoulders are broad, broader than you've let yourself realize, and you find yourself holding your breath when he slips his thumb under the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

They're low on his hipbones, which are angular and prominent, reminding you of sex. That could also just be the fact that you're in such a deep stage of need that you can't think straight.

In one deft movement, his sweatpants are off and on the floor, and why the fuck was he wearing Calvin Klein underwear? You swallow once, still laying akimbo on his couch, and he looks over at you with a shy smile.

The sheer quiet uncertainty of his expression causes something to possess you to say, "You look hot. Like really fucking sexy. " You chew your lip when he smiles slightly, his ears pink. "I think you should fuck me now."

Yeonjun laughs out loud at that. "I'm not even naked yet, you're so impatient.."

"Please?"

"Fine..." He moves to tug his boxers off, and you could slap yourself at the little involuntary noise your throat makes.

Oh.

Now you understand why he only laughed at all the jokes you've made about him being small.

He's definitely not small— bigger than average, with a very slight upward curve and a prominent vein winding its way up the underside. His tip is flushed the pink of his lips, leaking dribbles of precum down the side of his shaft.

No wonder he pulls.

His eyes meet yours, he lets out a quiet giggle at your slack jaw. "Is it okay, then?"

You nod once, calm yourself, and whisper, "I don't think it's gonna fit."

"Told you I'll take care of you, won't hurt you, I promise."

Yeonjun joins you on the couch once more and you can't resist anymore. Pressing a desperate kiss to his lips and pulling him closer by the smooth of his shoulders, you can feel him smile against your lips. His are soft and plush and feel like heaven. It's not like you haven't kissed him before— you were 20 and lonely and it was a particularly rough night, not a great combo.

But this is different.

His mouth is warm and inviting, his hands gripping your arms to pull you closer, and you let out a soft whimper when he draws you into his lap. His dick is pressed right against your clit, unbearably tempting and you mumble, "Please, Jjun, need you..."

Yeonjun holds you with almost uncharacteristic sweetness as he moves you under him, and you press your face to his neck, leaving soft kisses to his moles.

His tip grows your entrance and he lets out a soft moan, first erotic noise of the night, and a noise that sends you reeling. Pushing past the tight rim of muscle, he pauses to allow you to get adjusted.

Yeonjun rolls his hips against yours, never letting more than an inch of him inside you for fear of hurting you, and you cling to him, because holy fuck, this was not what you expected.

Fucking your best friend is an interesting experience.

Legs wrapped around his back trying to pull him closer, he only smiles, laughing at your needy whines.

"N-need, please, Jjun, can take you, promise..." Teary eyes meet his hooded gaze as your babbles are met with silence. He presses a kiss to your neck to quiet you, cockhead repeatedly pushing itself inside your gummy walls while you beg underneath him. His thumb presses against your clit and the touch is some relief— but little.

He tsks in your ear moments later, "Need to prep you baby, alright? Gotta get you ready for your first time, 'specially since it's with me, don't wanna ruin this pretty pussy just yet..~"

Yeonjun loves the way you writhe underneath him, trying to force your hips closer to his. It makes his own reserved pleasure that much better.

Your shirt is hiked up from the friction between you two, and he pulls the soft fabric up all the way, practically drooling at the sight of your tits. "Such a pretty body, doll, can't believe no one's gotten to take you yet, 'm lucky it's me.."

You can only nod quickly, gripping his forearm for some sort of grounding sensation, because you can feel the drag of his cock along your walls and it's fucking glorious.

"Jjunie, please, can take you, can take it, I'll be so good for you, take it all, I promise..!"

Your head rocked back, Yeonjun smiles softly, pressing his forehead to yours. "Don't wanna hurt you, too pretty, don't wanna make you cry," he mumbles.

You shake your head hard. "Won't hurt me, can do it, can do it, please."

You watch him wrestle with this mentally, and notice the exact moment he loses it all.

Kissing you hard, tongue meeting yours and taking your breath away, his hips inch closer and closer to yours until your skin is against his. His body is warm against yours, and there's a slight tremor in him that throws you off a little.

Yeonjun's not faring well with you around him. He knew you were going to feel like fucking heaven when he was inside you for the first time, but he needed to seriously work if he wanted to give you more than the five minute fuck his body was going to currently allow him.

When his body is finally pressed flush to you, your mouth drops open in a silent scream. He feels even better than you imagined— filling you up in all the right way like he's the fucking last piece in a jigsaw puzzle. He presses a kiss to your cheek with a pout, eyes wide and concerned. "'s it too much? Please tell me, baby, only wanna make you feel good."

"Feels so good, Jjun, so full, filling me so good..." You manage a cocky smile through the sheer pleasure running through your video. "Told you I could take it..."

Yeonjun huffs out a small breath of laugh, face in your neck, and sucks a purpling hickey onto your skin. "Not even moving yet, want me to?"

"Yes please, need you so bad, needed this for so long..." you mumble out, cheeks going hot.

His face flushes adorably, hips rutting against yours with a newfound desperation you hadn't expected. "Can feel how much you need me," he grins. His pace is faster now, quarter notes compared to the half notes from previous. "Can you feel how much I need you?"

You can. Can feel him trembling above you, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, tears wetting his lashes at the pure feeling of your cunt clamped down around him.

Your staccato gasps of "oh— oh— oh—" are music to his ears, and Yeonjun makes it a silent mission to hear absolutely every noise you're capable of making.

The head of his cock finds the spongey spot inside you with ease, and the squeak that falls from your lips sends him reeling. The first few tears slip down your cheeks when he abuses that spot over and over, and when he notices, Yeonjun has to look away. Pretty best friend, fucked out on his cock, crying for him... He holds your hand with a gentleness so unexpected you whimper, and he smiles again, kissing up your neck.

"Jjun, need, more— oh fuck— need more, s' close, please, give me?"

The look on your face decides for him, so pure and innocent, and he's fucking into you at a pace so animalistic you're practically screaming, mouth perpetually hung open.

The high that throws itself over you is so intense that you hit it with a noise thats almost a yelp, shaking under Yeonjun. He holds you close, balls deep in you, fingertips on your clit spelling out over and over again something you realize to be his name.

It seems to last forever, as if you're frozen in time itself, alone with Yeonjun's sweet scent winding itself around you.

With a jolt, you're back, pressing a hand to your stomach, where you can feel a small bulge under your fingertips. "Oh shit."

"What?"

He freezes, and Yeonjun's tone is panicked, and he looks down at you with such pure worry, like he's afraid after your peak that you've suddenly realized you made a mistake.

"Feel," you hum, taking his hand in yours once more and pressing it to your stomach, palm down. "Can feel you."

Yeonjun's eyes go wide and he sucks in a breath so sharp you can hear it. He presses his hand even harder against you before quickly yanking it away. "Can't think about that too much, gon' cum too quickly..."

Too quickly? He's been fucking you for 10 minutes, and he's worried about cumming too soon?

"Can.. Can you make me cum again?" You whisper, cheeks hot again, embarrassment winding up every limb in your body. "Never felt like that before..."

Your best friend looks down at you with such endearment in his eyes that your current position is almost funny. "I'll make you feel even better, promise."

His hips meet yours with a new frequency, faster and harder than before, and once again, you're reduced to a mess of babbles and whines under him.

Your head grows fuzzy, only focusing on the repeated action of his dick inside your pussy. Which sounds simple, but it was genuinely perhaps the best thing you've ever felt.

His breathing heavy, Yeonjun is focused fully on your body and the pleasure his ministrations are causing. A small smirk toys with the corners of his lips as you look up at him, mewling, eyes glassy with tears.

"Yeah? Feel good, doll?"

You nod again, swallowing hard, and he sighs out a laugh. "Looking so pretty under me, glad I'm making you feel good, making your first so good, aren't I?"

His pants paint the skin of your neck and make you tingle deliciously, the idea that you're managing to make this beautiful boy feel just as good as he's making you feel.

You tighten desperately around him with every action, and when you do, looking up at him, you can see Yeonjun's losing himself just a little. His eyebrows are furrowed like he's holding back, lips pursed out in a pout more focused than annoyed, and you grip his wrist with a choked noise when his slightly calloused fingertips meet your clit once more.

"'m so sorry, baby, can't do 't anymore, pretty pussy's taking me so good... gon' take you with me, alright?"

You can only smile up at him through your pleasure-induced tears. "Go ahead, can take it, take you s' good.."

Yeonjun's otherwise perfect thrusts fade to imperfection as he nears his high, writing his name on your clit once more, over and over, like he's claiming you as his. His whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat, like he's glowing from within. "Yeah? Gon' be a good girl 'nd take all of me?"

"Can do it, can take you, wan' it s' bad.." you're slurring your words at this point, grabbing onto him out of desperation to keep yourself grounded in reality.

His pelvis ruts into you so hard you gasp, second high somehow even better than the first, and you're left out of body until the feeling of his warm cum painting your insides brings you crashing back down.

Yeonjun's shaking above you, and you chase his lips to press a consoling kiss to them, carding a hand through his hair as he calms down.

Rolling off of you, he takes a moment to catch his breath, eyes locked on his cum dripping out of your abused cunt. His gaze flicks up to meet yours a second later, and he smiles to himself at the fucked out look on your face. Thank god he did you right.

He gets a phone call moments later, and sits to answer it with an apologetic look at you. "Yes?" His tone is devoid of feeling, but softens when he hears the voice on the other end. "Yes, it's all right, I'll be over later, 'kay?"

He hangs up after a moment and looks at you with a tentative look, waiting for something from you. When he doesn't get it, he says, "You can, um, use my shower, if you want?"

As you look at him, the weight of everything that just happened crashes down on you. Oh shit. You just fucked your best friend. You fucking lost your virginity to your best friend. You just let him cum inside you. You're fucked. Literally. And then he was on the call with someone else, some other girl, and this is probably the worst situation you've gotten yourself into

You sit abruptly, avoiding his eyes. "I have to go."

Yeonjun's expression is nothing short of confusion and hurt when you stumble, off balance, to pull on your underwear and shorts once more. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Not the fucking pet name. Not again.

You shake your head. "I have to go. This was a bad idea."

And without another word, you're walking out his door.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You avoid him as best you can, but it isn't easy when he's so desperate for some sort of answer from you. 10 missed calls and 17 texts later, you find yourself back in the same room as him, much to your chagrin.

It wasn't on purpose! Your friends had decided that your monthly hang out was happening a week earlier than usual this time, and inside Taehyun's living room, you sit as far from Yeonjun as you possibly can.

Dinner is already torture, but after?

You avoid eye contact with him, avoid talking to him, hell, you avoid looking at him at all. Sitting between Beomgyu and Kai, Yeonjun's on Beomgyu's left, perfectly out of your eye line.

You and Kai yapping about Animal Crossing, you can feel Yeonjun's eyes on you, and you try your hardest to act normal. It's hard enough to be able to smell him in the room, soft and subtle but so unbearably there.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, and you hold your head in your hands, hip leaned against the counter.

Maybe you're being overdramatic. It's not that big of a deal to lose your virginity to someone who you've known for 8 years. You're sure it's happened to someone before. It's normal! It's just sex, after all, you don't have real feelings for him, definitely not.

But he's just dyed his hair red, and the thoughts running through your head are not friendly ones at all.

You feel insane. You shouldn't be simping after someone who you've known for so long. It would ruin everything between the two of you, wouldn't it?

You move to turn on the faucet. Washing your hands for no other reason but hope to get rid of the feeling of Yeonjun on your skin, you dry them on one of the hanging towels and open the bathroom door.

Oh, fuck this.

Yeonjun stands right outside the door, leaning against the wall, and when it opens, he straightens up to look at you. "Yn.. can we talk? Please? I-I need you to tell me what I did."

Something in his eyes makes your heart break in two. He looks so confused, so unaware of exactly how you feel, and you run a hand over your hair. "Jjun. You've been my best friend. For eight years. And I let you take my fucking virginity. What do you think you did?"

"Did I not fuck you good?" His voice is small, tentative, and you sigh in frustration.

"No, you fucked me just fine."

"Then what's the problem?"

"That's the problem, Jjun. I let you fuck me because I've wanted this for years, and it was a mistake. I don't want to lose my best friend because I told you I couldn't get myself off."

He runs a hand through his newly-red hair and visibly collects his thoughts. After a moment, Yeonjun says, "Do you not like me?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

His cheeks are red, and there are tears beading in his water line, making his eyes sparkle. You purse your lips out in confusion, and he continues.

"Do you think I'd fuck you if I didn't have feelings for you? Do you really think I'm that much of a whore?" His voice is quiet, searching, and you're genuinely surprised. "Did you even think about the fact that I didn't tell you who I was into? Because it's you, dummy. I volunteered to take your virginity because I've been wanting to be the one who gets to do that since that day you kissed Taehyun. And I realized that I didn't want you to be with anyone other than me."

He rubs the nape of his neck with a small smile through the tears in his eyes. "It's selfish, probably. Isn't it? To want to be the only one for you?"

Your eyes are blown out wide, lips parted in surprise. "What the fuck?! Why didn't you tell me before you fucked me? Or during? Hell, even after instead of making me feel fucking crazy for liking you?"

"You didn't say anything, did you?" Yeonjun smiles slightly.

You press your lips together. "You offered in the first place! I didn't have to say anything."

"Fine. I'll say it now. I like you. I want you. I've thought about you at 2am every night for the past 2 years. I fucked you because I want to date you."

His eyes have a softness to them, akin to the way he looked at you when you were under him, and you don't have the words to respond.

You're pressed up against him in seconds, arms around his waist, lips on his with such urgency that you feel him laugh against you. Yeonjun kisses you back with the same pure passion, hands finding their way to cup your cheeks, and suddenly it feels like all is right with the world.

The atmosphere in the room is soft, intimate almost, when you find yourself on Taehyun's guest bed with a giggle. "You're so pretty, fuck.." you exhale, laughing when he grips the plush of your thighs to pull you closer.

You're positioned on top of him, heart going fast, and you're half subconsciously running your hand up and under his shirt.

He lets out a pretty gasp of a moan when you pinch at his nipple. "Don't, can't fuck with them out there, never gon' hear the end of it..."

The tears from before are finally slipping down his cheeks, and you press a kiss to his cheek to stop them from rolling off his chin. "Won't fuck you, but let me get you off, please? Wan' show you how much you mean to me.."

A soft exhale slips past his lips when you settle behind him, legs looped around his. Your head rests on his shoulder— you can hear his heartbeat through the cotton of his oversized shirt when you run your hand over the front of his pants. You tug the waistband of the loose athletic shorts down slowly, watching his every reaction with a soft smile on your face, and oh, the way the corners of his lips turn up so prettily when you run a soft hand over the entirety of his length.

"Always loved you, did you know?" you mumble, finally tugging him out of his pants with a whine from him.

"Didn' know, wish I did, woulda— fuck, s-slow down— woulda fucked you soon-ner..."

"Shush pretty, don't want them to hear, you can't be quiet 'nough, can you?"

He shakes against you when you slide your fist up his dick again, faster with each repetition, head hanging to his chest as he accepts what you give him, rendered putty beneath your hands. Yeonjun's noises are choked, slipping past the restraints of his lips no matter how much he tries otherwise. His head rocks all the way back when you speed up, and the sight of his collarbones on display has you reeling, wanting to give him everything he deserves and more.

"Doing so good for me, pretty boy, aren't you? So pretty with your new hair, did you do it for me?" humming against his neck while you suck dark hickeys, just high enough above his neckline for them to be visible. He just nods, gripping your free hand in his, and you look down at his dick in your hand with a smile.

Tip peeking through your fingers every time the side of your hand meets his pelvis, you notice a small birthmark on his pubic line and make note of it with a grin. His soft whines meet your ear like a melody from angels. "M— 'm so close, don't stop, don't stop, n/n, please!"

Yeonjun's small cry as he reaches his peak wrenches through your body as if he's touching you, and you let go of his hand and hold up his shirt to keep him from making a mess of it. "There we go, so pretty, what a good boy, love you..." You jerk off his softening cock, milking him completely, and only when his overstimulated mewls reach your ears do you stop.

The boy in front of you is a mess, sweat making his neck shiny, cum painting his tummy in ropes of white, tears streaking his cheeks, lips swollen from the tug of his teeth. But he looks so pretty, eyes glazed, a pleasured smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you.

"Love you too, s' glad you love me back."

You're leaning your forehead to his, going in for a sweet kiss, when you hear, "Guys, where'd yn and Yeonjun go?" from the hallway.

All in a frenzy, you jump up, tripping over your feet on your way to grab something to wipe Yeonjun clean, and you get to him just in time for the door to open.

Soobin stands there with his eyebrows raised, looking at the two of you on the bed, Yeonjun's hot cheeks, and the rag in your hand. He slaps a hand over his mouth before turning on his heel. "Found them!"

"Fucking hell," you mutter, straightening your own clothes while Yeonjun stands on shaky legs, tugging you into his arms.

"Doesn't matter, they were all bound to find out, was too loud anyways..." he smiles, nuzzling your neck, then drags you out and to the others.

Soobin's actively whispering in the ear of Beomgyu when the two of you walk in, and Taehyun shoots an annoyed look your way.

"My guest bed? Really?"

Yeonjun shrugs, checks the time, and grabs your hand again. You're still not used to this sensation— his hand is warm and soft, fingertips slightly calloused, and it fits perfectly with yours, like he was made for you. The thought makes you dizzy.

"This was fun, guys, but we have somewhere to be..." Yeonjun's saying to the others when you tune back in to reality. You gape up at him, but he just smirks down at you.

"In each others pants, most likely," Beomgyu mutters under his breath, and you roll your eyes.

But Yeonjun only winks, pulling you behind him out of the house and into his car, mumbling something about how he'll get yours later, and before you know it, this time you're in his bed.

Yeah, you're not getting any sleep tonight.

[fatecantstopme]

What I'd Give

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: When Dean is gravely injured on a hunt, (Y/N) makes a deal to save him--a deal that might just cost her everything.

Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mentions of death/dying. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, choking kink, overstimulation, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

You screamed helplessly as you watched your best friend and fellow hunter be thrown from the window across the room. You'd just managed to stab the demon you were fighting a mere second before you heard the breaking of glass.

You yanked the angel blade out of the demon's chest and ran straight towards the demon who'd just tossed your friend out the window. You stabbed the demon in the back, bringing an end to the fight.

You looked out the window and saw the horrific scene three stories down. Your heart clenched in your chest as you raced to the stairs, making it outside in record time.

"Dean!" you cried as you reached his broken body. "No, no, no, no..."

You were almost afraid to touch him--afraid to search for a pulse and not find one. You exhaled sharply and pulled yourself together, placing a firm hand against his neck. You could feel a very weak pulse beneath your fingertips and you knew he was in trouble.

The fall had certainly broken some bones and he likely had internal injuries of some kind. The glass from the window had sliced his skin in a million places, and you were worried he would have severe head trauma as well.

Normally, you would call out to Castiel and he would come running to save Dean, but this wasn't a normal day. Cas had been missing in action for weeks, and neither you nor the Winchesters knew where he was.

Dean's safety--his survival--depended solely on you. The two of you had been hunting alone, while Sam was out helping Garth on a different hunt. You'd hunted together countless times, but neither of you had ever been this seriously injured.

You knew he was dying--as surely as if there was a neon sign screaming "death!" above his head. You couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so you made a decision that would change your life.

"Anyone who's listening, I need your help," you called out. "Please...I will do anything...just save him."

You waited in silence for a few moments, hoping against hope someone would hear your call and take pity on you. You weren't exactly on good terms with most angels, but you couldn't help but hope at least one of them would care.

You heard the soft flap of wings that always signaled the arrival of an angel and you looked up hopefully. You inhaled sharply when your eyes met the glowing red eyes of the man who had come to rescue you--or should you say, archangel.

"Well hello, (Y/N). It's nice to see you again."

"Lucifer," you hissed lowly.

"In the flesh!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard your call," he said simply. "And well, let's be honest, no one else is coming to help you."

"Did you come here to gloat?"

"Of course not. Even I'm not cruel enough to find joy in the death of Dean Winchester."

"Then why did you come?"

"To save him, obviously."

Surprise lit up your face. Out of all the responses you'd expected, that hadn't been on the list. "Pardon?"

Lucifer smiled darkly. "For a small fee, of course."

"Ahh," you acknowledged. "That sounds more like it. What do you want?"

"Nothing too extravagant."

"Lucifer..." you growled.

"As you can see, this vessel isn't doing so well." He gestured to himself and you had to admit, he looked like absolute shit. "In fact, it's dying...which means I'm in need of a new one."

"Absolutely not," you said instantly. "He would never say yes to you."

Lucifer smirked. "I wasn't referring to him."

Your eyes widened. "I'm not an archangel vessel," you whispered.

"No, but you are a vessel. And I think you're strong enough to contain me long enough to find me a better one."

You swallowed thickly. There was no way you were going to agree to this...you knew what being an archangel's vessel would do to you and you weren't exactly interested in being strapped to a nuclear bomb.

"No," you said firmly.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "But just remember, Dean's death will be on your hands now."

You exhaled in defeat as you looked down at the man in your arms. You knew he was close to death--no hospital would be able to save him. Lucifer was your only option.

"Save him first," you whispered.

Lucifer smirked, knowing he'd won. "I would, (Y/N), but this vessel is simply too weak. I would need your body in order to save him."

You looked up into his dark eyes and considered his words. "I don't trust you."

"You would be a fool to trust me after all we've been through. However, I need you...and I need Dean alive and well to help me find an archangel vessel. Possessing you is a good motivator for him."

You clenched your jaw as you thought about your options. It took you mere moments to realize you didn't have any. You would rather die than allow Dean to...so your decision was made in an instant.

"Fine," you murmured softly. You looked up at the monster standing before you and exhaled slowly. "Yes," you breathed.

Lucifer wasted no time--immediately exiting his vessel and entering your body, taking over in an instant.

It was painful, feeling his energy within you, and you knew with absolute certainty you wouldn't be surviving this--no way in hell.

To your surprise, you were fully aware of everything happening around you. You could still see and hear--but you had no control over your body in any way.

Lucifer--you--reached out to Dean and touched him. Your palms began to glow and you watched the various wounds on his body heal quickly. His bright green eyes slowly blinked open and he looked up at you in surprise and confusion.

"What happened?" he groaned.

"You got tossed out a window," your voice said, though it was not you speaking.

Dean sat up and rubbed at his head. He looked down at himself, clearly surprised by his lack of serious injuries. "I fell three stories down..."

You nodded.

"How am I not dead?"

You felt your lips curl into a smile--a slightly cruel smile you knew was not your own. "You're welcome."

Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

Unbeknownst to you, your eyes began to glow red, alerting Dean to the presence of someone else in your body--and there was only one creature you knew whose eyes glowed red.

"Lucifer?" Dean yelled angrily.

"The one and only," he replied.

"How the hell...why are you...where's (Y/N)?"

"Oh she's right here," he said with a smile, tapping the side of your head. "Watching and listening like a little creep."

"Well it is my head, you asshole," you mumbled.

"Doesn't mean it's not creepy," Lucifer's voice hissed inside your mind.

You didn't like the idea that Lucifer could hear your thoughts and speak to you like that...and it made you wonder what else he could see within your mind.

"Everything," he teased darkly.

"Fuck."

"Get the hell out of her body," Dean growled.

"Not a chance, buck-o. (Y/N) was kind enough to invite me in, so I think I'll stay a while."

Dean pulled an angel blade out of his back pocket and pointed it at you. You knew he would never use it if it meant killing you too. It was an idle threat and Lucifer knew it.

Lucifer simply laughed. "You're not going to use that, so put it away."

"Get out of her and I won't have to."

"Oh please, you won't kill her."

Dean's expression remained impassive, but you could see his resolve waning. You knew him too well to miss the small tells. Unfortunately, that meant Lucifer knew him just as well.

"Let's make this easy on ourselves," he began. "Everything (Y/N) knows, I know. Every memory, every thought, every feeling, everything. So put the damn blade down before I have to break your arm."

You could see the anger on Dean's face, but he lowered the blade and slipped it back inside his jacket. "Why the hell did she invite you in?"

"You were about 5 minutes from death and she couldn't save you."

"So what, she called out to you?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"She called out to everyone...I'm just the only one who responded." You felt your eyes glance around in slight concern. "Speaking of, we should probably get out of here, just in case."

Dean nodded and lead the way to the Impala, which was parked a short distance away. You got into the passenger seat like usual and you saw Dean tense up at your proximity. He clearly didn't like the idea of the Devil riding shotgun.

"So why did you heal me?"

"I need your help," Lucifer admitted.

"What makes you think I'd ever help you?"

"I knew you wouldn't, which is why I convinced (Y/N) to let me have her body for a little while."

"Convinced?"

"I may have told her a little white lie--that my old vessel was too weak for me to save you. She didn't exactly offer herself up, but she didn't fight very hard when she realized I was her only option."

"You slimy son of a bitch," you growled.

"I'm the devil, (Y/N). What did you expect?"

"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, echoing your sentiments. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"I need to find an actual archangel vessel. I'm getting tired of jumping from vessel to vessel...they keep burning out. It's rather tiresome."

"Well you're not touching Sam, or me for that matter."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he insisted. "I know there are others out there, but I need someone with your connections to help me locate one."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "My connections?"

"Well, Bobby Singer's connections, really...but the best way to him is through you, and the best way to you is through her."

Dean exhaled angrily. You knew he was mad at you just as much as he was mad at Lucifer. You were surprised he hadn't given you an earful yet, even with Lucifer listening in.

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "But the moment we find you a vessel, I want you out of her body. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly," Lucifer answered.

"Now just sit there quietly until we get to Bobby's, understand? I want absolute silence."

"Well that's boring--"

"I can't stand hearing you speak with her voice, okay? So shut up."

Lucifer smirked, but fell silent, deciding instead to annoy you.

"He's mad at you, isn't he?"

"I said yes to you...of course he's mad."

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"How you feel about him?"

"I would really like you to shut the hell up now, Lucifer," you hissed.

"But I'm so bored," he whined.

"I don't give a damn and neither does Dean. It's about 2 hours to Bobby's place...can you be silent for 2 hours?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "It'll give me more time to dig around in your brain anyway..."

"Shit--no!"

You tried to shut him out of your mind as best as you could, but you could still feel him rooting around in your head...making himself at home and digging into memories and thoughts and feelings that were never meant to be shared with another soul.

**********

"What an unsightly place," Lucifer grumbled as he--you--followed Dean up the stairs to Bobby's door.

Dean shot an annoyed glare in your direction, but didn't comment.

"Bobby!" he called as he entered the house.

Bobby came into view and offered you both a tired smile. "Hey you two. What brings you to Sioux Falls?"

"We were close by on a hunt and now we need your help," Dean answered.

"Sure. Come on in."

Neither you, nor Lucifer, had said a word of greeting to Bobby, which struck the older man as odd.

"You alright, (Y/N)?"

"Oh I'm just peachy," your voice answered.

Bobby's eyes narrowed at you, immediately noticing your voice was off. Besides, you didn't tend to talk to Bobby like that.

Before Bobby could question you, Dean spoke up. "We need to find an archangel vessel...as fast as possible."

Bobby stared at him for a moment. "Dean, you are an archangel vessel."

"Yeah, well I need one to house the devil--and it ain't gonna be me or Sam."

"Why the hell do you need a vessel for Lucifer?"

Your hand reached out and tapped Bobby on the shoulder. Judging by Bobby's shocked expression, you assumed your eyes were once again glowing red. Bobby quickly took a step back, looking between you and Dean in confusion.

"It's a long story," Dean muttered. "But I don't want him riding shotgun in (Y/N)'s head any longer than necessary, so we need to find him another vessel."

"Preferably before this current one starts to rot from the inside out," Lucifer added.

"Seriously, Lucifer?"

"Well that is essentially what happens, you know. I wouldn't want to damage such a pretty face."

"Oh fuck off," you grumbled.

"Why in god's name would she say yes to you?" Bobby asked angrily.

"To save my life, okay?" Dean snapped. "Look--we don't have time for this. I need your help to find another vessel. Please."

Bobby sighed and crossed the room to his desk, which was covered in books and papers--an organizational system only Bobby understood. He eyed you warily, but he didn't comment on the situation further.

"I assume you know how to find an archangel vessel," Lucifer commented.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me," Bobby responded.

Lucifer sighed and began to tell Bobby what he needed to look for. You ignored the words coming from our own mouth, instead focusing on Dean. You could see how upset he was and it made you feel incredibly foolish. You hated seeing him like this, but you didn't regret your decision. The mere fact he was alive to be angry made this whole thing worth it.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"A week or two--maybe a little more," Bobby answered.

Dean looked in your direction, eyeing you with concern. "Will (Y/N) last that long?"

"Might wanna keep it closer to two weeks," Lucifer replied.

"You're lying, aren't you?" you asked quietly.

"Do you want me to tell them the truth?"

You sighed internally. "I think Dean deserves to know."

"A week would be even better," Lucifer said aloud.

Dean stared at you, worry deepening the lines on his face. His gaze traced your face, searching for any signs of deception--or maybe signs of damage.

"Well then," Bobby muttered. "Better get started."

**********

You sat in the corner, feet up on another chair as you watched Dean and Bobby. You could tell both of them were extremely worried, but their focus was on finding another vessel. They didn't have time to dive into their fears for your life.

Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to think he had all the time in the world. He was quite happy to torture you instead of providing the two hunters with any assistance.

"Why haven't you told Dean?" he asked for what had to be the 1,000th time.

"There's nothing to tell, Lucifer. Would you just back off?"

"You're really no fun, you know that?"

"Good. This isn't supposed to be fun for you."

"I can make it fun."

"I'd really rather you not."

"Too late!" he said gleefully.

You could feel him poking around inside your head again, searching for something he could use to hurt you with--or hurt Dean with. You tried to keep him away from your darkest secrets, from the things you'd never shared with another soul, not even Dean. But you noticed it was getting harder and harder to resist him. You weren't sure if it was because he was so strong or if you were becoming weaker. Either way, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer found something he shouldn't.

Unfortunately for you, that moment came much sooner than you'd anticipated.

"(Y/N)--fuck, I mean Lucifer...can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Dean asked suddenly, rising from his chair and heading outside without waiting for a reply.

"Well this should be fun," you mumbled internally.

"I assure you," Lucifer mocked. "It will be."

You felt your body moving, feet heading after Dean whether you wanted to or not.

Once outside, Dean turned to face you, eyes filled with a multitude of emotions you couldn't stand to see. "I want to talk to (Y/N)."

"Oh come now," Lucifer said. "You know that's not how it works."

"I know you can shut up and take a backseat. So that's what I want."

"Hmm..." Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I'd rather not. Besides, (Y/N) doesn't really feel like talking to you right now."

"Fuck you, Lucifer. Let me talk to him!"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening."

"Somehow I doubt that," Dean grumbled angrily.

"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm the one physically inside her head. I know what she's thinking and let me tell you, it's not very complimentary of you."

"What?" Dean asked in surprised confusion.

"You have no idea what she really thinks of you, do you?"

"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?" you growled.

He ignored you, instead focusing on his conversation with Dean.

"She's my best friend," Dean responded. "What more do I need to know?"

Lucifer laughed cruelly. "I'm sorry, that's just too funny. You think she's your best friend?"

You could see the look of hurt cross Dean's face for a moment, but he quickly covered it up.

"Sorry," Lucifer said, laughter subsiding. "It's just hilarious that you think she cares about you that much."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"She's tired of you, Dean. She's tired of your stubbornness, your self-loathing, your reckless behavior. She's tired of everything to do with you. She doesn't care about you--not really, anyway. You annoy the shit out of her, but she puts up with you because she feels like she has to."

You fought with everything you had to overpower Lucifer and take control of your mind and body. Not a single word Lucifer was uttering was true and you desperately wanted to tell Dean the truth.

"Stop fighting, (Y/N). You can't win," Lucifer whispered.

"Stop lying to him and I'll stop fighting," you insisted.

"No. I'm simply having too much fun."

Dean's face was impassive to the average person, but you saw through the mask on his face, and so did Lucifer. "I don't believe you," Dean said softly.

"You don't have to believe me. They're not my words. I'm simply relaying (Y/N)'s thoughts," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Haven't you ever wondered how she puts up with all your shit? You're not exactly walking sunshine, Dean. You're one of the most damaged humans I've ever met."

Dean inhaled deeply. "If she hates me so much, why does she stay?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Neither you nor Dean knew what Lucifer was going to say next...and his words cut deeper than you'd expected them to.

"She's in love with your brother," Lucifer sneered.

"Lucifer, no!" you screamed.

Dean's eyes widened and shock settled onto his face. He turned around, his back to you in an attempt to collect himself.

You fought even harder...you needed to get this son of a bitch out of your body. It felt like you were locked inside your own mind with no way out. Lucifer was too strong and the harder you fought, the weaker you became. You quickly realized the more energy you expended, the stronger he became...there was no use in fighting him.

"You're a monster," you whispered.

"They call me the devil for a reason.'"

You didn't bother responding to him. Your heart was aching for Dean and all you wanted was to comfort him. You knew exactly where his head would be at right now and it was killing you.

He'd always compared himself to Sam--at least as long as you'd known him. He seemed to think Sam was better than him in a lot of ways and certainly more lovable. The mere idea that you agreed with that sentiment...that you loved Sam...it would break him and you knew it.

"Sam is better than you in every way," Lucifer added, stoking the fire. "Why would anyone love you when they could have Sam? He's everything you're not...sure of himself, confident, open and honest. Sam is better for (Y/N) than you could ever be."

Dean turned back around, face a mask of impassiveness once again. "Let's find you a vessel so you can get the hell out of our lives," he said in a low voice. "Besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of Sam and (Y/N)'s love."

If you'd been capable of crying, you knew the tears would be streaming down your face in that moment. Your heart ached in a way you were unfamiliar with and you hoped Lucifer could feel the pain the same way you did.

"Why?" you whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you say that to him?"

Lucifer laughed. "Simple...I knew it would hurt both of you. You're in love with him and if his reaction was anything to go by, it looks like he feels the same."

"We're both helping you right now. Why can't you just be grateful for 10 fucking minutes?" you hissed.

"Where's the fun in that?"

You knew the question was rhetorical, so you didn't bother responding. Instead, you quietly watched Dean walk away and you knew he was going to lose his shit. You could feel it as clearly as your own emotions.

"Let's follow him," Lucifer said happily.

"Let him take his anger out without an audience," you snapped.

Lucifer ignored you and quietly followed after Dean, keeping a distance to avoid being noticed.

Once Dean was farther away from the house and seemingly alone, he grabbed a crowbar from a nearby bench and began to beat the ever-loving-shit out of a junker car.

If you'd wondered about Dean's feelings for you before (and you had), you didn't wonder anymore. It was clear he cared about you in the same way you cared about him and you hated seeing him in such pain.

You wanted nothing more than to go to him, but Lucifer was much happier standing to the side and watching Dean suffer alone.

"Please," you whispered.

"You can tell him I'm a lying bastard if you manage to survive this."

"You and I both know that's not likely," you sighed quietly. "I don't want him to suffer and I don't want to die with him thinking I hate him."

"Pity. Guess you should have told him sooner..."

"Oh fuck off, Lucifer," you growled.

Lucifer's laughter echoed in your head and you hated him in that moment more than you could even begin to express.

**********

"You alright kid?" Bobby asked Dean when he returned to the house an hour or so later.

Lucifer, and therefore you, had returned shortly after watching Dean fall apart. When he'd dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, Lucifer had gotten bored and left.

"I'm fine," Dean lied. "Do you have any leads?"

"I've put out my feelers to every person I could think of. I'm sure someone will have something for me soon."

"Did you call Sam?"

Bobby shook his head. "I assumed you did."

"Call him and let him know what's going on. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?"

"Yeah, Dean," Lucifer chimed in, "where are you going?"

"The nearest bar. Don't wait up."

You tried to say his name, but your mouth refused to form the word.

As soon as Dean was out of earshot, Bobby turned his attention to you. "What the hell did you say to him?"

"Me?" Lucifer asked, feigning innocence. "Why would you think I did something?"

"Maybe because you're the devil?" Bobby answered sarcastically.

Lucifer smirked darkly. "I may have poked at all of his insecurities."

Bobby groaned. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?"

"That's not a nice thing to say about my Father."

Bobby just glared at you and rolled his eyes. He got up and left the room and you assumed he was going to call Sam.

"I second Bobby's comment."

"I wear it like a badge of honor."

You knew exactly what Dean was going to do and it was killing you. He was going to drink until he couldn't feel a thing, pick up some random girl, and fuck her senseless--anything to feel something other than the ache in his chest. You knew him better than he knew himself...but in this moment, you desperately wished you didn't. You would give anything to not know what he was going to do.

**********

Three days later, one of Bobby's sources had a lead on a potential archangel vessel.

Dean hadn't spoken to you or Lucifer unless he absolutely had to. It was too hard to even look at your face and hearing your voice was a thousand times worse.

Sam was still out on a hunt with Garth, but he promised to be there to help as soon as he could.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Bobby asked Dean as the two of you were preparing to leave.

"The less people involved, the better. Stay here in case we need more intel," Dean responded.

"I don't like the idea of you traveling alone with Lucifer."

"I'll be fine."

Bobby didn't believe him anymore than you did, but neither of you commented on it--not that you could have if you'd wanted to.

As you/Lucifer and Dean climbed into the Impala, Dean didn't spare a glance in your direction.

"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer asked. "I've always wanted to go on a roadtrip."

Dean groaned. "What are the chances you'll be quiet during this drive?"

"Slim to none," Lucifer said with a smirk.

The response almost made Dean smile. It sounded like something you would say and technically it was your voice. He had to remind himself you weren't really talking to him--every word out of your mouth was Lucifer.

Dean took off without another word and you silently prayed this lead would pan out. You were extremely tired and it had only been about four days since Lucifer had possessed you.

By this point, you were having a hard time focusing on what was happening in the real world. You were in pain and you could feel your body weakening...you were dying and you knew it. You just hoped Dean didn't notice.

**********

By the time the three of you arrived at your destination, you were feeling terrible. You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you'd left Bobby's. In fact, you were pretty sure you'd fallen asleep very early on.

"It's been about 12 hours," Lucifer told you.

"I slept for 12 hours?"

"You're dying," he said nonchalantly. "So you're going to have a harder time staying awake."

"Great," you whispered sarcastically.

"Lucifer!" Dean growled. "You coming?"

"Of course."

Lucifer followed Dean into a building you assumed was an apartment complex. Sometime during the elevator ride, you must have fallen unconscious again, because when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing in a nice apartment.

Dean was talking calmly to a young man who looked moderately terrified.

"Is he the vessel?" you mumbled.

"Yes. I can feel it," Lucifer responded.

"Thank god..."

"I'm sorry, you want me to allow the literal devil to possess me?" the young man practically yelled at Dean. "That's assuming I even believe in the devil."

"Look man," Dean said with surprising calmness. "I know I sound insane, but it's all real. We need an archangel vessel and like it or not, that's you."

"What if I don't want to say yes?"

Dean grabbed him by his collar. "Then the woman he's currently wearing will die...and I will do anything to prevent that." His voice was low, barely above a growl.

The young man looked terrified, eyes wide with fear. "Are you threatening me?" he whispered.

Dean straightened out the guy's shirt and gave him a dark smile. "Of course not."

"So I have a choice?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Don't think for a moment he'll give you an option, kid."

The guy looked at you and you felt terrible for him. You understood his fear and apprehension...and it felt wrong to force Lucifer onto him. This kid didn't deserve it.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you mumbled.

"Too late, (Y/N). Dean knows he's an archangel vessel. There's no way he's going to leave without getting him to say yes."

You wanted to respond--to fight, but you couldn't. You were too weak...too tired. Everything hurt too much.

"What's it like?" the guy asked softly.

"Like being strapped to a rocket," Lucifer said snidely.

Dean shot him an annoyed glance. "You'll be fine. You were meant for this."

The guy's gaze remained fixated on you. "She looks like shit...am I going to look like that?"

Dean finally focused his gaze on your face and you saw the fear flash in his eyes. He could see you were dying. Your skin was pale, your eyes bloodshot, dark circles adorning them...your lips were cracked and there were slight lacerations appearing around your forehead and jawline.

"She wasn't meant to house the power of an archangel," Lucifer responded. "She's dying, but the same won't happen to you."

"Will she be okay if I say yes?"

"Yes," Lucifer lied smoothly.

The guy looked like he was contemplating what to do, so Dean spoke up again.

"Look, kid. She's important to me...more important to me than pretty much anyone else in this fucked up world. I would do anything to save her...she's--she's my brother's girl."

You wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but you knew it was fruitless to even try. Even still, your heart ached at his words.

"How long?" the guy asked, directing his question at Lucifer.

"As long as I want. You'll never age, never die, as long as I'm with you."

The guy nodded. "Alright. I'll do it." He stood up. "What do I need to do?"

"Just say 'yes'," Lucifer answered.

"Yes."

A bright white light filled the room and Dean had to shield his eyes. When the light faded, you were lying on the floor and Lucifer was now clearly possessing the young man they'd come to find.

"(Y/N)!" Dean yelled as he raced to your side.

Your pulse was faint and you looked even worse than you had moments before.

"Heal her," Dean demanded.

Lucifer's lips curled up in a cruel smile. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no," he repeated. "I'm not interested in saving her."

"You wouldn't have a vessel without us. You owe her!"

"I'm the devil, Dean. What makes you think I give a damn about debts?"

Dean stared at him, anger and terror fighting for control in equal measure. He stood up and went to lunge at Lucifer, but the archangel simply disappeared, leaving you and Dean completely helpless and alone.

**********

Dean had rushed you to the hospital and was currently sitting in the waiting room, hoping to hear something about your condition.

Sam rushed into the room, eyes scanning for his brother. When he saw him, Sam crossed the distance and wrapped Dean in a tight hug.

"How is she?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean said quietly. "But it doesn't look good."

"She's strong, Dean."

"I don't think that matters...her body was never meant to house an archangel and she managed to do it for almost a week. She's dying, Sammy."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.

Dean's heart ached, seeing his brother look so upset. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a broken emptiness in his soul--a space you used to occupy. But he needed to push past his own pain for his brother's sake. After all...you weren't his.

"For (Y/N)?" a doctor called into the waiting room.

Dean and Sam practically ran in her direction. Dean's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the doctor's sad expression.

"Are you (Y/N)'s family?"

Both men nodded.

"Come with me, please," the doctor said quietly.

They followed her to a private waiting area and Dean's dread increased significantly. "What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

"Please have a seat," the doctor asked, gesturing toward the chairs against the wall. She closed the door before taking her seat across from them.

"My name's Dr. Murphy. I'm (Y/N)'s treating physician."

"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

"There's no easy way to say this," Dr. Murphy said gently. "(Y/N)'s injuries are quite severe and she's in critical condition."

"But she's going to be okay, right?" Dean asked hopefully.

Dr. Murphy frowned and shook her head. "Her organs have begun to shut down...it's only a matter of time now. The best I can do is try to keep her comfortable."

"No," Dean whispered. "No, she can't--"

Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother.

"I'm very sorry," Dr. Murphy murmured.

Dean suddenly stood up. "I can't do this. I need--I need air."

He practically ran from the room and Sam got up to follow him, but Dr. Murphy placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I think it's best to give him a moment."

Sam nodded as he desperately tried to push his own emotions away. He adored you, but he knew exactly how much Dean loved you...so he knew how much pain his brother was in right now. It hurt him almost as much as losing you.

***********

Once Dean was outside, he ran around to the side of the building, desperate to be alone for a moment. He collapsed onto the ground, back against the hard stone of the hospital exterior. All of the tears he'd been pushing back for days finally poured out.

He found himself falling apart in public--something he couldn't recall doing before. He couldn't bring himself to care. You were dying and it was killing him. It was all his fault. If he hadn't been so careless, he wouldn't have gotten injured and you never would have had to beg Lucifer to save him.

He knew it wasn't a rational way of thinking, but in that moment, it didn't matter. You were about to become just another name on a never ending list of people who died because of him. He couldn't take it--it was too much.

"I know I'm not exactly on good terms with any of you and I probably don't deserve your help, but I'm not asking for myself. (Y/N) is dying and I can't save her. I'm not normally the kind of man to beg, but I'm on my knees right now...begging for just one of you to find it in yourself to give a damn. She doesn't deserve this. She's the best person I've ever known...so please. Please someone answer me. Please..." His voice was broken by the end of his short speech.

He was desperate and there was nothing he wouldn't do to save her. If no angel would help him...he wasn't above making a deal with a demon. He'd been to hell once before, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you could live.

"Hello, Dean Winchester," a soft female voice said from beside him.

He jumped up quickly, ready to fight if need be. He hadn't even heard the woman arrive, which meant she likely wasn't human.

"Don't worry," she said gently. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Aliraphael."

"Aliraphael?" Dean repeated. "I've never heard of you."

She smiled. "You don't need to know my name to know what I am."

Dean swallowed thickly. "Why did you come?"

"You prayed for help. I answered."

"But why? We don't know you...what would make you wanna help us?"

Aliraphael smiled. "You, your brother, and (Y/N) have sacrificed much for this world and all of the people in it. I think you deserve a miracle."

Normally Dean wouldn't believe her, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel safe. He was inclined to trust her, but he had to be sure. "What do you want in return?"

"Nothing. This is my gift to you."

"Nothing is free."

"I understand why you may be jaded, but sometimes a gift is simply a gift. This is one of those times."

Dean nodded. "I'm choosing to trust you, but just know if you betray me, I will kill you."

She smiled. "I would expect nothing less of the great Dean Winchester."

Dean led Aliraphael into the hospital and his eyes scanned the waiting area for Sam. He wasn't there, so Dean assumed he'd gone to your room.

"Excuse me. Can you tell me what room (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is in?" Dean asked the receptionist.

The woman typed on her computer without looking up and muttered, "Room 212."

"Thanks," Dean replied. He tried to walk slowly--normally--to room 212, but every instinct in his body was screaming for him to get to you as quickly as possible.

When Dean entered the room, he saw Sam standing beside your bed, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. He was speaking softly to you and Dean felt that ache in his chest intensify.

"Sam," Dean said softly.

Sam turned towards the door, eyes red from his tears. He looked between Dean and Aliraphael in confusion. "Who's she?"

"I am Aliraphael," the angel responded. "I am here to heal (Y/N)."

Sam cut Dean a look. "What did you do?"

Dean shrugged. "I prayed. She came."

"Okay, but what did you promise her in exchange?"

"Your brother has promised me nothing. I am doing this because I wish to. I have no ulterior motive."

Sam still looked worried, but he stepped back to allow Aliraphael access to your bed. Aliraphael gently placed her hand against your forehead and closed her eyes. A soft white glow began to envelop your body and your skin began to return to normal.

After several moments, Aliraphael dropped her hand from your head and turned to Sam and Dean. "It is finished."

You started to stir in the bed and Dean's heart beat faster.

"She will awaken in a moment," Aliraphael assured them.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, unable to take his eyes off your face.

Sam echoed his brother's statement and Aliraphael smiled.

"You are all very welcome." With that, the angel disappeared as if she had never been there.

You groaned softly and your eyes slowly opened. You blinked rapidly trying to clear them and focus on the room around you.

"I have to go," Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam asked in surprise, but Dean had already exited the room.

"Sam?" you asked softly, hearing the younger Winchester's voice.

"Hey, (Y/N/N)," he murmured. "I'm here."

Your bright (y/e/c) eyes focused on his face. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

You thought about it for a moment and the memories of the past few days came flooding back. "Lucifer..." you whispered.

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah."

"I was dying, Sam--I felt it. Why am I not dead?"

"Dean prayed...and some angel we'd never met before came to save you."

Your eyes widened. "Dean...where is he? I need to talk to him."

"He was just here, but when you started to wake up, he bolted."

"Shit," you murmured. "We need to go after him."

You started to sit up and tug at the IV in your arm, but Sam stopped you.

"Woah! Woah! Slow down, (Y/N). You were almost dead not even five minutes ago."

"And now I'm not, so we need to get the hell out of here Sam," you insisted.

Sam sighed. He knew better than to fight you, so he simply helped you remove your IV and untangle you from the web of other tubes and wires. He handed you your clothes and turned around so you could get dressed in privacy.

"Alright, let's go," you said as soon as you were dressed.

*********

When Dean left the hospital, he'd taken the Impala and started the long drive back to Lawrence. He just wanted to get home before you and figure out what his next move was. If you and Sam were going to be together...he didn't want to be there to witness it. He couldn't.

Dean's phone had rang several times, but he hadn't answered. Most of the calls were from you and a few were from Sam, but he couldn't handle hearing your voice right now. Especially if you were going to tell him everything Lucifer had said was true.

"He's still not answering his damn phone," you muttered, throwing the phone onto the dash angrily.

"I just don't get why he'd leave like that," Sam said for the fifth time.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Lucifer said some things to him, Sam...things that hurt him deeply. None of it was true, but Dean doesn't know that."

"What kind of things?"

"Things about me...about how I feel. And about you," you admitted quietly.

"(Y/N), just tell me."

"Lucifer told Dean I couldn't stand him and the only reason I hung around was because I'm in love with you."

Sam scoffed. "And Dean believed him?"

"You didn't see his face, Sam...he believed every word. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't overpower Lucifer."

"Shit," Sam mumbled. "He's a goddamn idiot if he thinks you love me more than him."

You laughed dryly. "Lucifer played on Dean's insecurities and unfortunately, it worked."

Sam sighed. "Where do you think he'd go?"

"I have to hope he went home."

"Then let's get there before he does." Sam sped up, flooring the stolen car like he'd--well, like he'd stolen it.

You were about five hours from Lawrence and Dean had a head start. You knew it was unlikely you'd get there first, but you had to hope you could get there before he left.

**********

When Sam pulled into the Bunker's garage four and a half hours later, you were relieved to see the Impala parked where it should be. Dean would never leave without his beloved car, which meant he was still there.

Both you and Sam practically ran into the Bunker, calling Dean's name.

The green eyed hunter heard your voices, but he ignored both you and Sam. He couldn't face you...he just couldn't.

"Dean? Where are you?" you called again.

"Come on, Dean. We know you're here," Sam said in annoyance.

You headed into the kitchen and Sam went down towards Dean's bedroom. Both of you hoped to find him before he managed to sneak his way out.

Sam entered his brother's room without knocking and sighed in relief. "Dean. There you are."

"Sam," he said curtly.

"Why the hell did you leave? And why didn't you answer our calls?"

"I just needed to get out of there."

"What, before (Y/N) woke up?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly how stupid he thought his brother's actions were.

"Look man, I'm glad she's okay, but I can't face her. I don't want to have that conversation."

Sam decided to play dumb. "What conversation, Dean? The one where she thanks you for saving her life? Or where you yell at her for saying yes to Lucifer in the first place? Cuz trust me, we had that conversation already."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Sam," Dean said quietly as he started to pack his duffle. "But it doesn't matter. I'm leaving."

"Why the hell are you leaving?"

"I can't stay here. I can't--I can't see the two of you together," he whispered.

"Together?" Sam asked incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's fine, Sam. I know."

"There's nothing to know!"

Dean glared at his brother and shook his head. "I saw you at the hospital...you clearly feel the same as she does."

"Yeah I do!" Sam yelled. "She's my friend--she's family!"

Dean was about to snap back another retort, but Sam cut him off.

"Just talk to (Y/N), Dean. Let her explain...you owe her that much."

"I don't want to talk to her."

"I'm not going to give you a choice," you said from the bedroom doorway.

Both men turned to look at you in surprise. You crossed your arms and stood firm.

"I don't want to talk," Dean said quietly.

"Good. I don't want you to talk, Dean. I want you to listen." You turned your gaze to Sam and gestured with your head for him to leave the room.

He gladly exited, not wanting to be a part of this particular conversation.

You closed the door behind him and continued to stand in front of it, afraid Dean would try to leave if you moved.

"Lucifer is a liar, Dean. I shouldn't even have to say that. He's the devil, for crying out loud. He's kinda known for his lies."

"But he's also been honest with us before," Dean countered.

"Only when it benefited him. Just like he lies when it benefits him. Hurting you? Hurting me? That shit brought him joy."

"Really? Did it hurt you to hear him tell me how you really feel about me?"

"No," you said angrily. "It hurt me to hear him lie to you about how I feel! The things he said were cruel and terrible, but more importantly, they weren't true!"

Dean stared at you silently, clearly not believing a word you said.

"Do you really think I'm capable of lying to you for years? Think of every moment we've spent together, Dean...do you really think I pretended to care about you? Pretended to enjoy spending time with you? Think about all the times we've laughed together, the times we've had each other's backs, the small glances, the whispers in the dark when one of us had a nightmare. Think about all of those moments and then look me in the eye and tell me it was all a lie."

Tears filled his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same expression was reflected in your own. You took a step towards him, desperately wanting to touch him, but afraid it be unwelcome.

"You're my favorite person in the world, Dean Winchester. You. Not Sam, not Bobby, not Jodi...you. You hold my whole heart in your hands...you always have. If you don't want it, then I understand, but don't for a second think I love anyone but you."

His lips parted in surprise. "But what about Sam?" he whispered.

You sighed loudly. "Weren't you listening? Sam is my friend, Dean, but nothing more than that. I love him like a brother." You took another step towards him. "He doesn't compare to you--he couldn't compare to you. I love you, Dean...and I don't mean like a brother."

Dean inhaled deeply. "I want to believe you, (Y/N/N)..."

"Then believe me," you begged him. "I love you."

Dean thought about what Lucifer had said and he realized why he'd believed it so easily. They were all things Dean was afraid of...he knew he wasn't good enough for you and he was terrified you knew it too.

"Talk to me, Dean," you whispered, taking a final step towards him.

He looked deep into your eyes and found nothing but love there. The same love he held in his soul for you. "I've always been afraid to tell you how I feel because I know I'm not good enough for you," he admitted. "That's why it was so easy for me to believe Lucifer's lies...it was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I couldn't believe you'd ever want me, so it was easier to believe you wanted Sam. He's better for you in every way."

"Stop," you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I decide who is best for me and I choose you. I will always choose you."

"(Y/N)," he whispered.

You pressed your lips against his, trying to infuse it with all of the love in your soul. Dean's arms wrapped around your thick waist, pulling you closer to him. He deepened the kiss, lips hungrily devouring yours.

You stayed locked in each other's embrace for what felt like an eternity. Your tongues fought for dominance and your hands caressed any part of each other they could reach.

When the kiss inevitably broke so the two of you could breathe, Dean laid his forehead against yours. "This might go without saying, but I love you too, (Y/N). So goddamn much."

You chuckled breathlessly. "After a kiss like that, I'd sure as hell hope so."

He grinned and tugged you even closer to him. His lips pressed against yours again and he found himself wanting to feel every part of your soft body. He needed it, just as much as needed air to breathe.

"Let me show you how much, baby," he whispered against your lips.

"Please," you moaned softly.

“Strip for me, pretty girl,” he commanded.

You gently pushed against his chest, forcing him back against the bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving your body.

You slowly began to remove your clothing, taking much longer than you needed to. You were teasing him and he was eating it up.

You finally got down to just your bra and panties, nothing fancy as you obviously weren’t planning on this happening, but Dean didn’t seem to care. In fact, you were about to be very glad you didn’t wear anything nice.

“You are so damn beautiful, baby,” he whispered.

You offered him a warm smile, appreciative of the affection in his gaze. He thought you were a goddess among humans, a treasure to behold.

“I think you’re a bit overdressed, Dean,” you teased softly.

“You know, babe, I think you’re right.” He stood up and shed his layers significantly faster than you had. He was extremely impatient, as he was dying to get his hands on you.

You admired his broad chest, thick arms, and sculpted form. He looked incredible, scars and all. You felt the strong urge to kiss every single one of them, if he would allow you.

He now stood before you in nothing but his boxers, his large erection straining against the thin fabric.

“Let’s get this off you,” he muttered, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.

The moment your breasts were exposed to his gaze, he let out a low groan. “Fuck, baby. These are even better than I’d imagined.”

“You imagined my—“ your question was cut off by the feeling of his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hands caressing your breasts gently.

The gentle movements quickly turned more intense, and he began to truly knead and nip at your flesh. You moaned softly and gently ran your fingers through his soft hair.

You pressed yourself even closer to him, feeling his bulge press against your abdomen. He lifted his head with a small smirk.

“Impatient, are we?”

You nodded quickly.

“Oh come on now, sweetheart. Use those words for me. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whimpered. “I want you.”

His smirk widened. “I figured that much out on my own, darlin'. I want you to tell me what you need.”

You weren’t exactly accustomed to expressing yourself verbally in the bedroom. To be honest, a lot of your past experiences weren’t that great anyway. A lot of one night stands with men who only cared about their own pleasure.

You found yourself feeling kind of excited at the prospect of a man listening to you and what you wanted…even more so because that man was Dean.

“I want you on your knees, handsome,” you said firmly.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, but he dropped to his knees obediently. His normally bright green eyes were dark with lust as he locked eyes with you.

You loved the powerful feeling you had as you stood over him. The great Dean Winchester, on his knees for you.

You touched his face sweetly and he leaned into your palm, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Do you wanna eat my pussy, Dean?” you whispered.

His eyes shot back open, a hungry expression on his face. “Yes,” he breathed lowly.

“Then get to work,” you commanded softly.

Dean was used to being in charge in the bedroom and it wasn’t often he found himself submitting to a woman. You were different than any woman he’d ever been with before—after all, he loved you. If you told him to do a damn handstand naked, lick your feet, and call you “your majesty”, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

His calloused hands slowly slid up your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh. His mouth followed, leaving sloppy kisses as he worked his way closer to your core.

“Baby?” he asked softly, glancing up at you.

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any particular attachment to these panties?”

“No, why—Dean!” you gasped as he ripped your underwear in half, tossing the remains to the floor.

He grinned and made a happy little noise deep in his throat before kissing your mound. He grabbed your right leg and tugged it up over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.

“Lean on me for support, beautiful. I got you.”

The moment you laid a hand on his shoulder and he was sure you were stable, he dove into your pussy with a deep growl.

Your head fell back in ecstasy and a series of moans left your lips. The hand not holding onto his shoulder immediately wound itself in his hair, holding on for dear life.

“Dean—feels so good,” you moaned.

His hands dug into your ass cheeks in response, tugging you even closer to him. He never wanted to stop—hearing those sweet sounds you made mixed with the heady taste of your sweetness was more intoxicating than any drink he’d ever had.

Your legs had begun to tremble and Dean’s grip on you tightened. He wasn’t willing to stop his ministrations, but he wouldn’t let you fall either.

Your nails scraped against his scalp and his shoulder as you clung to him. The pleasure was almost too much and not enough all at once, and you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Dean,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”

He smiled against your core and shifted his focus more heavily to your clit. You cried out and cursed softly, and he knew he’d made the right move.

“I—oh god,” you cried as your orgasm washed over you.

Dean lapped up everything you had to offer, his grip on your body never loosening. As you began to come down from your high, he slipped his hands up to your hips to ensure he didn’t drop you.

He gave your pussy one last lick before allowing you to pull him up by his hair. To his surprise, you mashed your lips against his hungrily, not giving a damn that he tasted like you.

One hand tangled into your hair and the other held you tightly. “What do you want me to do now, sweetheart?” He murmured against your skin.

“Take control, Dean,” you begged. “Make my legs shake. Make me scream. I don’t wanna be able to move for hours.”

“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Who taught you to talk like that, baby?”

You smirked. “It comes naturally with you.”

"Well it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he murmured.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist and gripped you tightly. He spun you both around so your back was to the bed. He pulled you up into his arms and tossed you onto the bed.

You gasped in surprise, not used to being manhandled in such a manner. You sat up slightly, resting on your elbows as you looked at the gorgeous man in front of you. You curled one finger and beckoned him towards you with a smirk.

He quickly discarded his boxers and dropped onto the bed, crawling slowly up your body. He dropped kisses onto your skin as he moved, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When he reached your mouth, you reached up and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, tugging him down to you. Your kiss was hungry and needy, leaving no question as to what you wanted.

As the kiss deepened, Dean shifted his body to touch your soft curves. In doing so, the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy, eliciting soft moans from both of you.

Dean's hands traced softly up and down your sides, relishing the feeling of your skin against his. "I love touching you," he murmured in your ear. "You're so damn soft."

You smiled and turned your head to nip at his jaw. He groaned and turned his attention back to your soft lips, sucking the bottom one between his teeth and biting down gently.

Much like Dean, you loved touching his body, but you reveled in the firmness of his body beneath your hands. Every time he moved, you could feel his muscles tense and shift. His body was powerful and beautiful--a vessel carrying the most incredible soul you'd ever known.

Dean shifted again, nudging your head to the side so he could suck at your neck, leaving love marks on the sensitive skin. You lifted your hips up slightly, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the ache between your legs. Once again, his cock brushed against your core and you gasped lightly. Dean, on the other hand, bit gently into your neck to suppress a loud moan.

"I can't wait any longer, baby," he groaned.

"Take me. I'm yours," you whispered.

He sighed softly, kissing you sweetly before pulling away. "Roll over for me, sweetness. Hands and knees."

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you rolled over immediately. You lowered your upper body to lay flat against the mattress, ass high in the air.

"Holy shit," Dean murmured as his hands grasped your large, round ass. "Who said you could have an ass this incredible? I can't wait to watch it jiggle while I fuck you senseless."

Before you could respond, he smacked your ass with an open palm, causing you to gasp slightly.

He seemed to realize belatedly that he should have asked if you were okay with that before doing it, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined smacking your ass for years. "Is that okay, baby?"

"More, please," you begged softly.

He smacked your ass again with a grin. "You like that?"

"Harder, Dean," you moaned. "Like you mean it."

"Fuck," he groaned, hand coming down against your cheek again.

Each time you moaned loudly, reaffirming your enjoyment of the action. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you were beyond desperate for him to just fuck you already.

"Dean, I need you--please," you cried desperately.

"Where do you need me, baby?"

"Inside me," you whimpered.

Without warning, you felt one of Dean's thick fingers enter your pussy. "Like this?"

You shook your head rapidly.

"Words, babe," he said firmly.

"I want your cock, Dean."

"Yeah? Tell me where."

You turned your head to look at him as best as you could from your current position. "I want you to fuck my pussy with your big, thick cock...please," you pleaded softly.

Dean blinked rapidly and licked his lips. He pulled his finger out from inside of you and sucked your juices from it. "Yes ma'am," he murmured.

He leaned forward and kissed your cheek where he'd left a red mark from his slaps. You turned your head back around, forehead against the mattress, preparing yourself for what would come next.

Dean gripped his cock tightly, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He started to enter you and you gasped at the stretch. It was painful given his larger than average size.

"I've got you, baby," he whispered, running his hands up and down your back in a soothing manner. "Just relax for me."

You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body as much as you could. When he felt the tension leave you, he continued to push forward.

You'd never felt so full before and the pain had begun to subside into pleasure. "You're so big," you mumbled.

Dean smirked and chuckled softly. "I'm not all the way in yet, sweetheart."

"What?!" you gasped in surprise.

He pushed the rest of the way in, bottoming out so deep inside you, you swore you could feel him against your cervix. "Fuck!" you yelped.

Dean continued his soothing hand motions on your hips as he allowed you the time you needed to adjust to his size.

While you appreciated his gentleness, you desperately needed him to fuck you. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you moved your hips forward slightly before slamming back against him so your ass pressed firmly against his lower abdomen.

Dean's blunt nails dug into your hips and he growled lowly. "Fuck, baby."

His hips snapped forward and he held you in place by your hips. He set a brutal pace, unable to move slowly--it felt way too damn good.

Dean was completely mesmerized by your ass, watching it jiggle as he fucked into you forcefully. He slapped the opposite cheek from the one he'd hit earlier and you cried out in pleasure, pussy clenching around him.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetness," he moaned. "Tightest pussy I've ever had."

You couldn't formulate a good response to his words as you were already too far gone. His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, making your legs shake and your head fog up.

"Made for me, weren't you baby?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

Dean smiled, knowing you were overwhelmed with pleasure and unable to respond properly. He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your neck. He tugged back slightly--just enough to cause a little pain without truly hurting you.

His thrusts were almost violent, they were so fast and hard. He wanted to feel you come apart on his cock and he knew you were close.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispered.

You simply whined desperately.

"What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"More," you begged.

"Hmm," Dean hummed. He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against him so you were sitting up as he continued to thrust into you.

One hand slid up to your neck, wrapping around your throat and applying just a tiny bit of pressure to gauge your reaction. His other hand moved slowly towards your core, seeking your clit for added stimulation.

"Dean!" you cried.

He bit into your shoulder. "I'm here, baby. I want you to fall apart for me."

He rubbed at your clit quickly, thrusts slower due to the new position, but nevertheless pleasurable.

You needed just a little more to push yourself over the edge, so you gripped his hand around your neck and put more pressure on it, indicating what you needed.

Dean got the hint and tightened his grip on your throat, just enough to push you over the edge. He didn't want to hurt you--he would never hurt you.

"Cum for me, sweet girl," he murmured in your ear.

You cried out as your second orgasm crashed against you and your pussy tightened almost painfully around Dean's cock. He helped you ride out your high before lowering you back to the bed and rolling you over onto your back.

He was immediately on top of you, thrusting into you more slowly. He put one arm on either side of your head to support himself, effectively trapping you beneath him.

He rolled his hips against you, the motion pressing his pelvis against your clit, causing you to whimper in pained pleasure. Your hands found purchase in his upper back, nails digging in as he repeated the action.

"I love your body, baby," he whispered. "So fucking perfect."

You smiled up at him, pulling him down for a heated kiss. "I like it too," you mumbled. "Yours isn't bad either."

He chuckled lightly, kissing you lovingly. "I wanna see you come apart for me, (Y/N). Can you give me one more?"

Your eyes widened. "I don't think I can..."

"I bet you can, sweetness." He grabbed your hips and pulled your legs up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He began to thrust in earnest again and your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips.

Dean closed his eyes, focusing on pulling at least one more orgasm from you and keeping his own at bay. The way you were squeezing him made it a hell of a lot harder than he would like.

The harder his thrusts, the tighter you seemed to grip him, and the deeper your nails dug into his back. He knew he was going to have some serious gashes on his back, but he intended to wear them with pride.

"Come apart for me, baby. Let me feel you soak my cock," he begged.

"Dean," you groaned.

"Come on, my love--let go."

Your eyes fluttered closed and your body began to shake as waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. You came for the third time that night, cries of pleasure mixing with Dean's moans of encouragement.

You started to come down from your high, body overly sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure that continued. "Dean, too much!" you gasped.

"Just one more," he begged.

"I can't!" you whimpered.

"Please baby--one more. Need it," he continued to beg.

You didn't think it was possible for you to cum again, but you began to feel a new sensation in your abdomen. It felt similar to the familiar tightening coil that signified an oncoming orgasm, but it was infinitely more intense. You weren't even sure if it was pleasure or pain--the feeling was simply too overwhelming to comprehend.

"Dean--I can't--" you gasped in confusion.

His hand slid between your bodies to gently massage your clit and you suddenly couldn't breathe. You began to writhe beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets to try and ground yourself.

Dean knew you were about to come undone again, so he didn't slow any of his motions. "Look at me, baby."

Your eyes met his for no more than a moment before your vision became blurry. You screamed his name as you came for a fourth and final time. The feeling was so incredible, you couldn't even begin to describe it.

Your vision began to return to normal as you desperately tried to catch your breath. You were practically limp beneath him as Dean began to chase his own orgasm.

He tucked his head into the crook of your neck and murmured soft words of praise against your skin. "Feels so good--squeezing me perfectly."

He kissed your neck as his thrusts became more erratic. "I'm gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, sweetness. Gonna cum for you."

You managed to press a kiss into his shoulder and wrap your arms around him, hands clutching his back. "Fill me up, Dean," you whispered encouragingly.

Dean groaned lowly. "This pussy is mine, baby. You hear me? Mine."

"Yours, Dean. Only yours."

"Oh--fuck--" he groaned. "(Y/N)!"

His hips began to stutter, thrusts faltering as he filled you up with his seed. He whispered your name like a prayer as his movements began to slow to a halt. You clung to him tightly as he came down from his high.

He finally collapsed on top of you, completely spent and breathless.

You rubbed his back soothingly, lips pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck. As the two of you laid there quietly, you began to notice the bedding beneath you was particularly wet--more so than you had expected it to be.

"I love you so much," Dean whispered, lips pressed softly against your jaw.

"I love you too, baby," you said sweetly.

Dean began to lift himself up, each movement making you gasp--body too overstimulated to handle any motion.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he murmured softly.

"I'm not complaining," you assured him.

He grinned slightly as he pulled himself up completely, softened member sliding out of your excessively wet pussy.

He looked down at the bed and his grin widened. "We made quite the mess, baby."

"Yeah, it feels a little...wetter than normal."

He chuckled softly. "That's probably because you squirted, (Y/N/N)."

You gasped, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You realized that must have been the result of the most intense orgasm of your life. "I did?!"

Dean noticed your discomfort and immediately reassured you. "Yeah, sweetness--and it was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

You bit your lip and looked up at him. "Really?"

He grinned. "Really."

"I've--uh--well...I've never squirted before," you admitted.

His chest puffed up with pride. "I'm honored to have been the first--and the last." He added a wink for emphasis.

You smiled softly. "Maybe don't make it a regular thing...I literally can't move."

Dean laughed. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take care of you."

You watched the handsome man cross the room and go into the bathroom, emerging several minutes later with two washcloths. He gently picked you up, moving you to the other side of the bed where it was dry. From there, he very gently began to clean you up with the warm washcloths.

You were moved by the loving way he took care of you, making sure you were clean and comfortable before leaving the room in search of another set of sheets.

When he returned, you found you still couldn't move, but Dean didn't seem to mind. "I can change the sheets with you in them, (Y/N)."

"But--"

"Hush," he insisted as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

He made quick work of removing the sheets on the other half of the bed and putting the clean sheets on that side. He then scooped you up again and moved you to the clean, crisp sheets. He removed the rest of the soiled sheets and finished making the bed.

As soon as he was finished, he crawled into the bed beside you. He reached out to grab your soft body and tugged you against his warm chest.

You nuzzled into him and sighed softly. "I could get used to this."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "I'll always take care of you, baby...so you might as well get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."

You smiled and pressed a soft kiss onto his chest. "I love you, Dean."

Dean tightened his grip on you and smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N/N). Always."

[nutmeggery]

I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.

When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.

But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)

I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...

See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.

I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.

While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?

Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.

It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.

And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.

It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.

And by a few minutes I meant a few days.

More than a few, actually.

I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.

But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.

Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.

Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).

And I'm having a wonderful time.

[jasmines-library]

May I ask for platonic batboys x paramedic reader? The reader works the night shift, so they meet each other pretty often when dealing with criminals as she and her colleagues are doing damage control. They share gossip and find the best all night diners. Sometimes, if they're in trouble and too far from home, they can usually find her in her house.

In short can I just have some fluff of batfam with a civilian friend?

This is my first time requesting anything, plase forgive me if it's a little vague as English isn't really my first language.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: hi hi hi. Before I start anon I just want to say thank you so much for waiting patiently. You requested this like two months ago and i've been so busy that i've only just got around to writing it. Thanks so much for being awesome. This idea is so cute. I also hope that HCs are okay, I really wanted to write this for you quickly (although im not really sure i can call it quick after how long it took me to get round to it) p.s your English is perfect!

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

The first time you met the boys, it was almost like fate. You instantly clicked.

Like usual you were working the night shift; a shift usually expected to be long and gruelling. But never in city like Gotham.

You had received the call from GCPD, but that wasn't uncommon.

They were dealing with some criminals in the city centre and some bystanders had got caught in the crossfire and needed medical attention.

Again, not unusual. You were a paramedic after all.

What was unusual was the gaggle of masked vigilantes milling around the scene. Not one, but four.

Usually they would have fled by now; moved on to solving crime in another part of the city, but the night was slow and so they were there to help.

Though, I would use the term 'help' loosely. They spent more time getting in the way as they tried to help.

Especially the small one, who you later learned was Damian.

You saw them more often after that.

Weather it was fate working her strange magic or weather it was the fact that you found yourself actively seeking out a swish of their capes.

They were a good laugh; witty and unafraid to tell you what they think.

If nights were slow, you would wander round the streets together, trying out all of the different diners that claimed to have the best pie in the city, but were really just as shit as the next ones.

As your relationships between the vigilantes grew and you came to know them more personally, they would often come to you for help.

Gunshot wound to the shoulder? Jason would be tapping on your window as he pleaded that you would let him in before dripping blood all over your carpet.

Feeling nauseous? Dick would be at your door with a list of his symptoms.

They grew to trust you to help them, and you were glad to do so.

(Although, you would be less than pleased when they show up on your doorstep at two in the morning on your day off)

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[mommageto]

Warmer (Himejima Gyomei x Hashira! Reader)

Title: Warmer

Pairings: Himejima x Hashira! Reader

Word Count:  1349 words

Description: Himejima and (Y/n) were sent on a mission together. But as the temperature decreases, you find comfort in the arms of a gentle giant. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

It's wintertime, which is not a recommended time to travel. Ubuyashiki sent you and Himejima on a mission to a faraway city where the number of people who have died recently from a demon attack has increased. It has been a long week since you and Himejima defeated a group of demons who have been disturbing the city.

All (y/n) could ever think of is to rest after that stressful week as you recently felt frail. Being a hashira is not an easy task. Although you were strong, you used a lot of energy and effort to ensure that no individual in the village would get harmed, which caused you so many injuries that you ended up being poisoned by a demon. Himejima luckily came in handy in the whole scene. The 7-foot-2 giant was not named the strongest hashira for nothing. 

You were not close with him compared to the other hashiras, Himejima always felt distant towards you. Every time you come near him, he always finds a way to leave that space. He always avoids making conversation and prays every time you are near.

This was an unfamiliar feeling to you, considering you had established a good relationship with most of the Hashira, even with Shinazugawa. You have always found Gyomei to be captivating, with his size, strength, and dedication. These qualities really make him stand out the most. You have always admired him but felt indifferent because of his being distant towards you. Nevertheless, you handled your unity well in the fight in a professional manner. 

Both of you are on your way back to the Demon Slayer Corps to report back from your mission. It was quiet primarily between you, and you kept it that way since you knew Himejima wasn't the type to usually have a conversation with you. You still had quite some time to travel in silence. Your eyes felt weak, but you kept going because you could not bear to be in an awkward travel situation with the giant man with whom you were least engaged. As you cannot bear it anymore, you fell on the ground and passed out. 

Your eyes slightly opened, feeling better, and you find warmth in a rock-hard structure you cling on. Looking at your surroundings, snow has finally appeared, yet you see your environment as being inside of a cave that is lit up by the fire you can hear. You can barely get into your senses as you feel comfortable. It was a nice feeling, and it caused you to be curious about your surroundings and try to knock some sense into yourself. 

“(Y/n)”

A deep voice called your name, and you took a closer look at the solid rock-hard structure you were clinging to. You saw Himejima. You were startled as you realized the position you were in. He held you with his strong arms as he covered you with his robe to add to your warmth. You tried to move in a jerky motion, making sure to get out of Himejima. Your cheeks are flushed, and you feel embarrassed about your situation right now. You did not expect this to happen. All you ever thought was to go home as soon as you can. You stay quiet as you try to resist him, but as the stone hashira, he proves himself to be super strong. 

“H-himejima-san, I…”

"I'm sorry (y/n) if you feel that this is somehow unorthodox. You passed out yesterday, and your body felt cold. I worry that you won't be able to make it, so I thought I should warm you up for now." This feels strange and unexpected.

As you took a glance at Himejima, you noticed how attractive he was. You can't help but keep your cheeks from flushing. Being so close to him, his chest feels firm and warm. You can also hear the beat of his heart. Your perception of Himejima has always been calm and stoic. Somehow, you wonder how he could be like that, considering his background story when Tanjiro defended Himejima when you told him how he avoids you. Despite how much he avoids you, you feel closer to him than ever. 

"(Y/n), I can feel your heartbeat so fast. You're also warming up. Are you sure you're okay?" He asks. You shake your head, and you can see a slight panic on his face. Then again, you thought about his question. You nodded, "No! I mean, I feel better!"

You tried to escape from him due to embarrassment and to shun his comment about your heartbeat. This time, you were successful, yet didn't seem too far away from him. There was a moment of silence between the two of you as it was the last couple of days. This was probably the most extended conversation you've had with him. You were puzzled about what to do as you felt how awkward your current situation was. 

"(Y/n), I'm really sorry if it felt uncomfortable for you. It's too cold, and I ought to find shelter and keep you warm," you hear his plea. Tears started falling from both his eyes. This didn't make you feel uncomfortable but rather baffled. Though you appreciate him for trying to help you aid yourself, you can't help but wonder why he's acting this way all of a sudden when he clearly tried to keep his distance from you every time. You squint your eyes and carefully say, "Why do you always avoid me, Himejima-san?"

As your head turned to him, you saw the man with tears, stunned by what you said. Though, you said what you said and have long wanted to ask him that question. The man was at a loss for words. Himejima is blind, but he moved his head away from you. You could see from his expression how saddened this man is. Tears streamed down Himejima's face, his voice thick with emotion. "I was afraid," he confessed. He completely caught your attention now, and you were ready to hear more from him. "After losing those I cared for, I vowed never to let anyone close enough to get hurt again. The thought of feeling that pain because of you…it terrified me."

"The truth is, I have always pined for you." You were startled at his words, and you did not possibly know how to feel about that. He completely caught your attention now, and you were ready to hear more from him.

You waited for him to continue, "Ever since you first entered the Demon Slayer Corps, I have always felt how kind and warm-hearted you are. The way you treat others and hearing about it from everyone. I am blind, but I can see through your heart. Due to my monastic background, I never thought I would be able to catch myself wondering about someone, about you but I did."

Hearing Himejima confess his feelings for you made you feel glad because you knew you felt this way about him, but it only stopped you from the way he treated you. A lump formed in your throat. You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Himejima-san," you said softly, "I understand your fear. I know that you carry such pain, yet you continue to protect others with kindness. That strength is what makes me admire you."

A flicker of hope ignited in his voice. "Do you truly believe that?" You nodded, your heart pounding. "Yes, I do…" you hesitated, then continued, "I understand your fear, I just hope you won't keep your distance from me anymore."

Himejima remained silent for a moment and slightly nodded with a soft smile on his face, your hand reaching out to tentatively touch him. The warmth of his calloused fingers sent shivers down your spine. All that cold distance from him was thawed by the warm feeling of that mutual apprehensive conversation you had with him. Despite the chilly breeze of air from the fall of snow, being with Himejima and the light of hope you both share only made you feel warmer.

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

SOFT NIKTO HCs Kinda! ! ! + Short scenes!!

Edit: 16/5/24

I need him to fuse with me

Tw: mild mentions of possessiveness, overprotection. Spoiling, ooc nikto.

Nikto who doesn't struggle on pda because he's been through enough. Why would he waste time acting edgy when he could make sure you never have a reason to leave or run away?

"Come now lyubov', it's not safe to be so far from me."

He says as you feel his grip on your wrist. Always firm but never harmful. No matter what, even if he's angry, which he rarely shows around you. its always firm, never painful. His greedy fingers are always interlaced and his scars act as added friction to keep your hand in his, making sure you can't pull away without his permission.

He doesn't even do it on purpose sometimes. If you ask, he will let go of your hand, reluctant but nonetheless, who is he to deny you a wish?

He wouldn't deny you of anything of course, years of torture had bared him of most preferences. He believed that as long as a room wasn't cluttered it was fine.

Until he saw your room. Vibrant and alive, brimming with life, the room was loved.

He swore he could feel his heart squeeze.

From that day on he will buy you everything you want, everything. If you stare at something for a little too long he will buy it, he doesn't care that you say you didn't need it.

"What do you mean you don't need it? You wanted it yes? I'll get it, your wants, my needs."

On your birthdays he will buy you anything you look at, the only way to avoid a shopping spree is to stay inside yet even then anything you say in casual conversation will be bought.

"You wanted a weighted blanket, what else do you think this package is? Explosives? Not in our home, not with you moy lyubov'."

Acts of service and gift giving is almost always. To the point that it becomes something you expect, good. He was aiming for that.

Shot for the moon and he caught a star brighter than any other.

××××××××××××××××××××××x x××××××××××××××××××××××

His voice changes when he talks to you, especially at night. What can go from a,

"What do you think you're looking at?", To strangers to

"Absurd, no amount is too much to spend on you, love. Now you let me put it in the cart.>:(", to you.

Then at night he will be silent, preferring actions over words as he shifts closer to you on your shared bed.

His mind tired and foggy from the ordeals of the day as he wraps his arms around you. Chuckling a deep laugh that echoes through his whole body as he hears you complain that his arms are blocking your view.

He watches your screen with you as he barely focuses on it, his mind preoccupied with the thought of you as his ears tune into the sound of your breagh.

Alive, unharmed.

And only then will he allow himself to sleep, his body a shield for you. Protecting you from the outer world, whether you like it or not.

××××××××××××××××××××××x x××××××××××××××××××××××

Masterlist

[anathemaspeaks]

fluff 1 with bakugou?? :3

“can i borrow your sweater?”

check out my prompt list and request stuff!

katsuki bakugou was a force to be reckoned with. he was a talented man of tact, analysis, and pure skill.

so why he was so painfully oblivious to your flirting was beyond you.

you talked his ear off at any given opportunity, never passing up a chance for a bad pick up line.

...

"hey katsu, is your name google?" you asked, hope in your voice. this one would work for sure, you thought.

"no, shitty woman. y'just said my name," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. there goes your line. you sighed.

it was a good one, too.

...

you'd compliment him every moment you could, trying to get closer to him.

...

"you have a really cute laugh, y'know" you thought out loud, moving near him so that your shoulders would touch as you walked to training.

you had just tripped on air, the scene making the ash blonde crack up.

he rolled his eyes and turned away, a barely noticeable smile still on his face, and a light pink dusting his cheeks.

...

he tolerated you more than those shitty extras. he thought that alone was enough of a sign that he liked you. he was never good at expressing his feelings.

but turns out he wasn't good at perceiving them either.

you're so sure you could confess your undying love for him, and he would still pretend like you just hit him with a casual 'hey!'

it was the middle of spring, the cold air nipping at your skin as you walked with him to your dorms. you had just come back from grabbing a pizza together. the two of you. alone.

but no, it wasn't a date.

of course it wasn't.

but while walking, with you talking his ear off and him nodding along, you felt a little bold.

(you weren't even sure if he was listening. he was hooked onto every word.)

so maybe it was the chilly winds brushing past you gently, or maybe it was the intoxication you felt from being with katsuki alone, but you decided to try something new.

"can i borrow your sweater?" you asked, voice hesitant and soft.

his breath caught in his throat, ears now red. you wanted his sweater? he rolled his eyes, "tch, told you it'd be cold, dumbass."

but to your surprise, he took it off and gave it to you. you grinned up at him, eyes glinting with a mix of joy and disbelief, and wore it.

he swore lightly under his breath. you with your pretty smile, in his sweater - it made his heart beat faster, butterflies in his stomach. you were so gorgeous.

but then he did something you really didn't expect.

"looks good on ya, shitty woman" he grumbled, taking your hand into his own, a giddy smile on your face.

katsuki bakugou was a force to be reckoned with. he might not be the best with words or with feelings, but he'd treat you better than any of those other shitty extras. that was for sure.

i hope you liked it, anon <3