#but I hope you enjoyed the drawing anyway

[rubyuji]

She got the Ruby ๋࣭ ⭑🎸⊹ ࣪ ˖

“No way. I never knew how much I needed this kind of chaos until you showed up.” ᝰ.ᐟ

Genre: Slowburn, Fluff

AU: University AU

Pairing: Music Major!Woozi x Afab!Reader

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Jihoon had never been one for romance or dating—no one had ever truly caught his eye. But everything changed when he saw you bathed in the glow of red light at Soonyoung’s party, your ruby lips captivating him and making his heart race like never before. Why could you, a stranger, leave him so utterly spellbound?

Note: User rubyuji finally publishing a fic about her bias?! LMAO to be completely honest, this fic had been in my google docs for so long that I'm surprised it made it out despite the writer's block. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it! Don't forget to like + reblog as form of support!

W.C: 8.3k

Dating was never an option for someone in Jihoon’s league. His packed schedule aside, he barely left the house most of the time. Whenever his friends—emphasis on tried—attempted to introduce him to someone, the feedback was always the same: he was either too busy or seemed completely uninterested. 

It wasn’t entirely his fault, though. Jihoon had never quite found his footing in the dating world. Either the idea simply hadn’t appealed to him, or the person his friends introduced was too different for him to find common ground.

“Oh, come on! We’ve introduced you to, like, six people already, and you didn’t like any of them! You’re hopeless, Jihoon,” Soonyoung whined, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside his friend.

Jihoon barely spared him a glance, rolling his eyes as his fingers continued to move across the keyboard.

Soonyoung was a great friend—Jihoon couldn’t deny that. Even if he didn’t always show it, he cared about the guy a lot. But sometimes, Soonyoung could be a handful. His intentions were always good, sure, but Jihoon wasn’t ready to dive into the complicated world of relationships or love. Not now, not when all he could focus on was graduating, as if his entire life depended on it.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but being in a relationship is the least of my worries right now,” Jihoon sighed, closing his laptop with a faint click.

As if on cue, his other friend, Wonwoo, emerged from Jihoon’s room, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed after a long nap.

“You barely leave the house and hole up here like a damn hermit. You should take some time to relax once in a while, you know?” he quipped, leaning against the doorframe.

Jihoon rubbed his temples, his brows knitting together in mild frustration. He knew his friends meant well, but their constant prodding was starting to feel like a broken record.

Soonyoung suddenly gasped, drawing curious looks from the other two men. “How about this? We’re heading to my frat tonight—I’ve got a party planned. Maybe Jihoon could find someone to mingle with. It wouldn’t hurt, right? And if you end up hating it or don’t meet anyone, you can leave. No pressure.”

Jihoon’s mouth fell open like a fish out of water at Soonyoung’s suggestion.

He didn’t mind parties per se, but Soonyoung’s events were... something else. Case in point: Soonyoung had once woken up on the frat’s lawn after one of his infamous ragers and called Jihoon to help clean up the trashed house. But that was a story for another day.

Still, Jihoon found himself considering the idea. He hadn’t left his apartment in nearly a week, and after working nonstop, a change of scenery might not be the worst thing in the world.

Jihoon wasn’t a prude—far from it. He simply preferred to conserve his energy and steer clear of activities that drained him too much.

It was just part of his nature, and honestly, one of the reasons he couldn’t see himself dating someone too outgoing or high-energy. Still, this party might be an opportunity to step outside his usual bubble and meet someone new—someone who wasn’t just a direct connection to his friends.

“I’ll go this once, I guess. But if it’s a bust, I’m leaving immediately, like we agreed,” Jihoon sighed, his tone resigned.

From the kitchen, he heard the unmistakable sound of Wonwoo spitting out his water in shock, while Soonyoung erupted into cheers, dancing around the room like he’d just won the lottery.

Jihoon rolled his eyes but knew he couldn’t show up looking like a mess. If he was going to meet someone, he might as well make himself look presentable.

On the other hand, you weren’t exactly a fan of the party scene either. So why were you at Junhui’s frat, holding a red Solo cup, half-listening to Mingyu and Seokmin discuss some new workout Mingyu had discovered?

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Mingyu huffed, snapping you out of your daze with an exasperated look.

You smirked, taking a sip from your cup. “Mingyu, you’re the biggest gym rat I know—besides Chan and Seungcheol. And Seok, don’t think you’re safe either. I’m not even surprised you found another workout to torture us with next week at the gym.”

Mingyu groaned dramatically while Seokmin burst out laughing at your comment. Shaking your head, you got up from your spot on the couch.

“Alright, I’m gonna go look for Saerom,” you announced, giving them a playful wave before weaving through the party crowd.

“If you see Minghao, let him know I’m looking for him,” Mingyu called after you. You gave a casual two-finger salute in response before heading to the kitchen, relishing the sudden drop in noise and the smaller crowd.

Saerom was leaning against the counter, deep in conversation with Jihyo. When they spotted you, both waved you over.

“Hey, have you guys seen Minghao anywhere?” you asked as you joined them.

Jihyo shrugged, and Saerom shook her head. “Mingyu’s looking for him, right? Well, no sign of him yet,” Saerom replied.

“Figures,” you chuckled. “Also, can you believe the party’s host is MIA? Imagine Soonyoung being late to one of his own ragers for once. That’s wild.”

Saerom laughed as she refilled your cup, the three of you slipping easily back into lighthearted conversation.

Before your friends can give out another remark, you guys hear Soonyoung’s boisterous laughter coming from the living room. “Looks like I spoke too soon?” You pout in faux disappointment. 

“Hey, isn’t that Lee Jihoon? Isn’t he in your class, Rom?” Jihyo pointed out, her finger directed toward the familiar face standing beside Seungcheol. Your brows raised in surprise.

As far as you know, Jihoon, along with Seungcheol, Wonwoo, and Mingyu, lived off-campus. So seeing him here was unusual—he was practically an anomaly in these parties, appearing only on rare occasions.

“That’s crazy, he’s actually at a party right now,” Saerom giggled. “We should go over to Soonyoung and see what’s up.”

You found yourself following your friends without much thought, a sudden interest in Jihoon sparking inside you.

He looks insanely good in that black button-up, and those forearms— The thought immediately made you snap back to reality, shaking your head slightly as you tried to regain focus.

“Y/N! Saerom, Jihyo! Looks like you made it too,” Soonyoung laughed, his voice bright as he spotted the three of you. Your friends rolled their eyes playfully, clearly used to Soonyoung’s usual antics.

“Yeah, we know she’s your favorite,” Jihyo teased, raising an eyebrow. “But seriously, how did you manage to convince THE Lee Jihoon to come to one of your wild frat parties?”

Soonyoung shrugged casually, glancing over at Jihoon, who was deep in conversation with Wonwoo and Junhui across the room.

“I don’t know. We talked about the party a while ago when we were at his place. I mentioned it, and he’s been holed up in his apartment all week, so I thought maybe he could use a break,” Soonyoung explained, reaching for a random Solo cup Jeonghan handed him, the latter seamlessly inserting himself into the conversation. 

“We also kinda wanted him to meet someone, but... that’s out of the question for now.” Soonyoung almost sighed as he said this, clearly not expecting much.

Your friends laughed at his comment, their attention drifting back to the conversation, leaving you free to let your gaze wander. It landed on Jihoon, just as it had moments ago.

You couldn’t deny it—Jihoon was undeniably attractive, and he was definitely your type. But you had no idea how to approach him, especially since you’d barely exchanged a word with the guy.

“Interested in Jihoon, huh? Can’t blame you. Soonyoung, Cheol, and practically everyone else has been on his case about getting a girlfriend—or at least starting to date someone,” Chan suddenly appeared beside you, causing you to jump in surprise. You hit his shoulder playfully, and he chuckled.

“I’ve barely spoken to him,” you sighed dramatically. “The only other time I’ve seen him was at Mingyu’s birthday, and the most we exchanged was him passing me a plate and me saying ‘thank you.’ I highly doubt he remembers that, considering he barely even looked at me.”

Chan laughed again, but this time he grabbed your arm and started pulling you toward the dance floor as the music grew louder and the crowd tipsier.

“Fine, take a moment to think about it. But for now, let’s dance! Give it your all—you didn’t take all of Soonyoung’s and my classes for nothing, right?” Chan yelled over the music, his grin wide.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Chan spun you into a playful dance battle, challenging you to keep up. Just then, the lights suddenly flickered off, and Junhui’s makeshift spotlights sprang to life, bathing the room in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors.

While you and Chan lost yourselves to the beat, Jihoon made his way over to where Jeonghan, Wonwoo, and Minghao were lounging, the latter two likely too lazy to join the chaos on the dance floor. He plopped down onto the beanbag next to Jeonghan, who glanced at him with mild curiosity.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. What made you change your mind?” Jeonghan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jihoon shrugged casually, taking a sip from his Solo cup filled with Coke Zero. He wasn’t much of a drinker, so he had opted out of anything stronger.

“Soonyoung and Seungcheol insisted I needed to get out of the apartment and let loose a bit. I’d been holed up there all week, just going back and forth between home, university, and the gym, so I figured I’d give it a shot,” Jihoon explained, his gaze drifting to the dance floor.

His eyes found Mingyu in the middle of the dance circle before flitting over to you.

As you danced alongside Chan, Jihoon’s eyes lingered on you, captivated by your movements. Seokmin and Seungkwan were in the middle of their own dance battle nearby, but Jihoon couldn’t tear his focus away from you.

You looked... familiar. He was sure you had been at Mingyu’s birthday party, and he had seen you with Soonyoung around campus, but he never really paid much attention until now.

It was almost as if everything slowed down for Jihoon at that moment. He took in every detail—how you looked so effortlessly good while dancing, how the red light seemed to make you glow. Red was his favorite color, and seeing the hue reflected in the lipstick on your lips only made things worse as he tried to hide how drawn to you he felt.

“Dude, why are you so thirsty?” Soonyoung’s voice snapped Jihoon out of his daze, and he immediately felt heat rush to his face. Wonwoo laughed, clearly noticing Jihoon’s flushed ears, while Minghao tried to suppress a smile.

Jihoon was finally making progress in his love life, and his friends couldn’t be more proud of him for stepping out of his shell.

“Finally, someone’s caught your attention,” Soonyoung teased, his grin widening. “Do you want me to bring Y/N over?”

Soonyoung’s plan was falling into place perfectly. The fact that Jihoon was showing interest in you—of all people—was just ideal.

You were everything Jihoon needed. Well, almost. You weren’t big on the party scene and preferred staying in, though you did go out more often than him if invited by the right people (the ‘right people’ being Mingyu).

You had a personality that could easily draw people in, and on top of that, you were the full package: pretty, smart, and kind. But being as perfect as you were also meant that you had no shortage of admirers.

“You know, Y/N’s great. She’s practically Seungcheol’s other half,” Jeonghan said, clapping his hands enthusiastically.

Everyone around them was practically buzzing with excitement, seeing Jihoon finally step out of his comfort zone. Honestly, Jihoon felt a strange surge of courage; for once, he was ready to take a risk.

“I mean, if she’s that amazing, why not? But how do I even approach her?” Jihoon asked, glancing over again. This time, he saw you dancing with Mingyu, your smile outshining every light in the room.

“Y/N’s laid-back. She can talk to anyone if you just let her be herself,” Wonwoo chimed in. “She’s a bit of a yapper, but in the best way possible—everyone feels comfortable around her.”

Jihoon didn’t get a chance to respond because, just then, you and Mingyu started making your way toward their group, which set off an eruption of teasing from all sides.

You waved at the guys before gently ushering Mingyu off to have fun with the others, then settled on the couch beside Wonwoo. It just so happened to be the seat directly across from Jihoon.

“Y/N! You’re not really into the party scene. What made you come?” Soonyoung called out loudly. You shot him a questioning glance and laughed.

He knew you enjoyed a party every now and then, but then your eyes caught sight of Jihoon sitting next to him, and suddenly, you understood.

“You know I enjoy the occasional party, Soonyoung. Today’s no different—I just wanted to let loose a bit,” you replied, leaning forward on the couch to grab an empty red cup from the table. You filled it with whatever concoction was in the bowl nearby.

“Is this spiked, by the way? Don’t wanna end up drugged or anything,” you joked, raising an eyebrow. Wonwoo shook his head to signal that it was safe and that you trusted his judgment.

“Oh, and Y/N,” Jeonghan chimed in, “Jihoon here actually wanted to talk to you. Why don’t you two take a moment?”

A smile tugged at your lips as you realized this was your chance. Chan’s words echoed in your mind—a lot of people sought after you, but no one had ever really stood out—until now.

Jihoon caught your attention in a way that felt different, and with a little liquid courage in your system, you felt ready to take that first step. You were grateful for the alcohol, knowing that without it, you might’ve been a complete mess by now.

“Well, we’ll leave you two alone then,” Jeonghan smirked, causing you to flush. You noticed Jihoon looked just as flustered as your friends began to leave the room one by one.

An awkward silence settled between you, and you decided to make the first move, choosing to go with the flow.

After all, what did you have to lose—other than your dignity if Jihoon didn’t respond?

“I take it you’re not the most sociable type? Or a huge partygoer?” you chuckled awkwardly.

Jihoon chuckled too, nodding as he noticed your flustered demeanor. Just moments ago, you had seemed so confident, but now seeing you shy around him gave him a strange sense of comfort.

He wasn’t used to many women approaching him, especially since he had no experience in the dating scene. Soonyoung and Seungcheol had quite literally thrown him into the deep end.

Jihoon scratched the back of his neck nervously, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since the awkward silence.

"I guess you could say that," he said, his voice soft but a bit unsure.

"I’m more of a quiet type, not really into the whole party scene. But Soonyoung and Seungcheol… they’ve been pushing me to get out more. I’m not used to this kind of thing."

He gave you a small, sheepish smile, as if trying to lighten the moment. There was a warmth in his expression, a vulnerability that surprised you. It made you feel like you weren’t the only one navigating uncharted waters.

You couldn’t help but smile back, your own nervousness easing a little. "I get it. I’m not really a party person either," you replied with a chuckle.

"I like the idea of letting loose, but it always seems a bit overwhelming. I’m more of the 'quiet drink in the corner' type myself."

Jihoon laughed softly at that, the tension between you both melting away just a little bit more. It was strange, but in that moment, you both seemed to find common ground in your shared discomfort.

There was something about the way Jihoon looked at you now, something less guarded, as if he was starting to feel more comfortable.

"Yeah, I get what you mean," he said, his tone a little more relaxed.

"I’d rather be at home, with my laptop and music. At least there, I don’t have to deal with—" He paused for a moment, glancing around the chaotic party. "All this."

You laughed, nodding in agreement. "Exactly. There’s something peaceful about just being at home, away from all the noise. But hey, at least we’re both getting out, right?"

"True," Jihoon said with a smile that made your heart flutter. "I guess we’re both stepping out of our comfort zones."

You looked around for a moment, the buzz of the party now seeming a little more tolerable. "I wouldn’t say I’m exactly ‘stepping out’—more like ‘dragged out’," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Jihoon chuckled at that, and you noticed how his eyes lingered on you for just a moment longer than usual.

The playful banter seemed to ease the nerves you were both feeling. It was refreshing to talk to someone who understood that sometimes, a quiet escape was more appealing than all the loud distractions in the world.

As if to prove his point, Jihoon glanced toward the dance floor, where his friends were causing even more chaos, and let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

"I swear, they get louder every time. I feel like I might go deaf just by being around them."

You laughed at that, and before you knew it, you were both talking more comfortably, sharing little details about yourselves. You were beginning to realize that maybe, just maybe, this night wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought.

"By the way," Jihoon said after a beat, suddenly looking a little hesitant again.

"I hope I’m not being too forward, but… if you’re not busy later, maybe we could grab a drink or something? I mean, I know this place is kind of… well, loud, but it could be nice to talk more, you know?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the offer, and you tried to hide your surprise with a smile. "Yeah," you replied, a little more confidently than you felt. "I’d like that."

The moment hung between you two, and for the first time that night, the noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of quiet connection.

The next day, you found yourself sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan at a quiet café, the bright morning sun filtering through the windows.

You had been eager to tell Mingyu about your interaction with Jihoon the night before, especially after how much your friends had teased you about it.

Seungkwan, ever the curious one, was also there, sipping his coffee with a raised eyebrow, clearly interested in hearing what had happened.

"So," Mingyu started, leaning forward with a grin.

"How was last night? Did you end up talking to Jihoon like you said you would?" He shot you a knowing look, clearly trying not to make it too obvious that he was playing matchmaker in his own way.

You chuckled, feeling a bit sheepish at the memory.

"Yeah, we actually did talk. I mean, it wasn’t anything super exciting or dramatic, but we had a decent conversation. He's... surprisingly easy to talk to, you know?"

Seungkwan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "I thought Jihoon was like the silent, brooding type. What did you guys even talk about?"

You shrugged, a smile playing at your lips as you recalled the night.

"We mostly talked about how neither of us are really into the party scene. We ended up bonding over how much we’d rather stay home than deal with all the noise. It was actually kind of nice, just... quiet, you know?" You caught Mingyu’s knowing smirk and rolled your eyes.

"Stop it. I’m just saying we connected a little more than I expected."

Mingyu and Seungkwan exchanged a glance, and Seungkwan raised his cup in a mock toast. "Well, looks like you’re in the clear then. It’s not every day someone gets Jihoon out of his shell."

"Right?" You laughed, trying not to let your excitement show too much. "I didn’t expect it either. But I guess he’s not as intimidating as I thought."

Just as Seungkwan was about to say something else, your phone buzzed on the table. You grabbed it, expecting a random message, but when you saw the name on the screen, your heart skipped a beat.

It was Jihoon.

Hey, it’s Jihoon. I got your number from Cheol. Would you be free to hang out after your classes are done today?

You couldn’t help but smile as you read the message. Your friends were watching you closely, no doubt noticing the shift in your demeanor.

"You okay there, Y/n?" Mingyu asked, a teasing grin on his face. "Something got you smiling like that?"

You bit your lip, quickly typing out a reply, trying not to let your excitement show too much. Sure, I’d like that. I finish class around 4. How about then?

As you hit send, you glanced up at your friends. Seungkwan was grinning widely, clearly having caught onto what was happening. "Well, well, well," he said, his voice dripping with mischief. "Looks like someone’s got a date on their hands."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.

"We’re just hanging out," you said, trying to play it cool. "But yeah, I guess we’ll see how it goes."

Mingyu raised his cup again, his grin widening. "You know, I always knew Jihoon had it in him. I’m just glad someone finally got him to make a move. Let’s see where this goes."

You couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at the thought. Jihoon had actually asked you to hang out. After everything that had happened last night, this felt like the beginning of something new—and you were more than curious to see where it would lead.

The afternoon passed in a blur, and as soon as your last class ended, you hurriedly made your way back to your apartment to get ready for your date with Jihoon. You were a bit nervous but also excited—this was a new experience for both of you, and the idea of spending time together in a more intimate setting had you feeling hopeful.

As you walked into your apartment, you were greeted by the sound of music blaring from the living room. Yerin, your roommate, was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

“Whoa, slow down there!” Yerin called out with a teasing grin as she looked up from her phone. “A date tonight? Are you rushing to see him or something?” She raised an eyebrow and put down her phone, clearly enjoying the playful jab.

You froze for a second, a flush creeping up your neck. “I’m not rushing! I just... want to look good, okay?” You quickly grabbed your clothes for the evening from your closet, trying to brush off Yerin’s teasing.

Yerin sat up on the couch and leaned forward with a sly smile.

“Uh-huh, sure. You know, I was starting to wonder if Jihoon was actually real or if he was just a figment of your imagination. But now it looks like you’re actually getting ready for him.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Shut up, Yerin. I’m just trying to make sure everything goes well tonight.”

Yerin laughed, crossing her arms. “I’ll be here, waiting to hear all the details when you get back! I’m expecting the full scoop.”

You quickly finished getting ready, making sure to choose a stylish but comfortable outfit. You knew Jihoon wasn’t exactly the flashy type, so you opted for something that felt both casual and a little special.

Once you were done, you grabbed your bag and walked out of your room. As you stepped out into the living room, Yerin was still lounging on the couch, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“I’m serious, I want the full report later,” she called as you made your way to the door. “Have fun, and don’t forget to text me when you’re on your way back!”

You chuckled, throwing her a playful wave before stepping out the door.

When you arrived at the restaurant, Jihoon was already waiting for you outside. He looked a little nervous but also endearingly handsome, standing there in a smart button-up and dark jeans. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and his expression softened into a smile.

“Hey,” Jihoon greeted, stepping forward. “I hope this place is okay. I figured it might be more... private for our first time hanging out like this.”

You smiled back, feeling a surge of affection for how thoughtful he was. “It looks perfect. Very cozy, just what I needed after a long day.” You gently bumped your shoulder against his as you greeted him.

Jihoon seemed to hesitate for a moment, then reached into his bag and pulled out a small bouquet of red roses. Your heart skipped a beat as he offered them to you, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

“I... I thought these might brighten your day.”

You were momentarily taken aback by the gesture. Jihoon wasn’t the most outwardly romantic person, but the red roses made it clear how much he was putting himself into this. “Jihoon, these are beautiful. Thank you,” you said, your voice softer than usual.

“Of course,” Jihoon mumbled, his ears tinged with pink. “I wanted to make tonight a little special.”

You took the flowers, your heartwarming at the gesture. "You definitely did."

Jihoon led you into the restaurant, a sleek, modern spot known for its great ambiance and exquisite food. As you stepped inside, the dim lighting, soft music, and cozy atmosphere made it feel like the perfect setting for a first date. You quickly spotted the table he had reserved, a secluded spot with a view of the rest of the restaurant.

You sat down, and for a moment, there was a brief, awkward silence.

"So," you started, trying to ease the tension, "you’ve clearly got some taste. This place is nice."

Jihoon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I actually googled a few places... and picked one that looked like it wouldn't make me look too much like a rookie. Not that I’m exactly experienced in this stuff," he admitted with a sheepish smile.

You couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. "Don’t worry, Jihoon. I’m definitely not an expert either. We’re both figuring this out, right?"

Jihoon nodded, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and nervousness.

"Yeah, we’re in this together."

The waiter approached, and after a brief moment of looking over the menu, you and Jihoon placed your orders. As the waiter left, Jihoon met your gaze again, his expression softening.

"So," he said, leaning in a little, his tone quieter now, "what’s been keeping you busy lately? Besides... school, obviously."

You laughed softly, feeling more comfortable now that the initial awkwardness had passed. "Honestly? Between classes and spending time with friends, I’ve just been trying to make some time for myself. It’s been a lot of balancing everything, you know?"

Jihoon nodded, his eyes reflecting a deeper understanding.

"Yeah, I get that. I’ve been stuck in my routine lately, just going to class, the gym, and back home. It feels like the same thing every day, so I figured... maybe it was time to break out of that a little."

You smiled, a soft laugh escaping you. "Well, you definitely made the right decision tonight. It’s nice to step out of the routine every once in a while."

Jihoon smiled back, his gaze lingering on you longer than usual. "Yeah. And I’m glad it’s with you."

The words hung in the air between you, but instead of making things feel heavy, they only added to the warmth between you both. Just then, the waiter arrived with your drinks, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics as the evening progressed.

As the weeks passed, Jihoon and you began to fall into a comfortable routine.

After each of your classes, you’d find yourself grabbing a quick bite to eat at the diner near campus, or sometimes just walking home together, talking about everything from random observations to deeper conversations about life.

 It had started off a bit awkward, but now, it felt effortless, like you had both found something meaningful in the mundane moments.

Jihoon was starting to appreciate the routine. It wasn’t something that had ever appealed to him before—he’d always been the kind to keep to himself, going through the motions of class, gym, and home without seeking much beyond that. But with you, he found himself looking forward to these little moments. 

He loved hearing about your day, even the small things you thought were unimportant. Your laughter became a highlight of his afternoon, and as silly as it might’ve sounded, he loved walking beside you, his hand brushing against yours as you talked.

One particular day, after a long class, Jihoon met you outside the building, your usual spot. His eyes softened when he saw you, and despite the crowds, he only had eyes for you. You were wearing a loose sweater and jeans, your hair tucked into a messy bun, looking effortlessly cute.

“Hey, ready to go?” Jihoon asked, offering you a small smile. You nodded, pulling your bag over your shoulder.

“Yeah, just finished my last lecture. Let’s get food, I’m starving.”

“Same here,” Jihoon replied, glancing down at his phone. “How about that diner? I’m craving their fries today.”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder as the two of you started walking. “You and your fries. But sure, that works for me.”

The walk to the diner was filled with comfortable conversation, the two of you easily slipping into familiar banter.

As you entered the diner, you found your usual booth by the window and sat down, already chatting about how your day had gone. Jihoon, for the first time in a while, felt completely at ease.

Then as you two dug into your food, Jihoon noticed something he hadn’t before—how he found himself looking forward to this part of his day.

He was actually looking forward to seeing you, to sharing these moments. And it wasn’t just about the food or the walk anymore; it was about spending time with you.

Later that week, Soonyoung, who had been hanging out with Jihoon more recently, couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in his friend’s behavior.

Jihoon, who used to brush off talks about relationships or showing any kind of emotion, had been smiling more, his mood noticeably lighter. Soonyoung wasn’t exactly one to shy away from calling things as they were, and it didn’t take long for him to notice what was happening.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Soonyoung asked one day, leaning against the doorframe of Jihoon’s room, a teasing smile on his face.

Jihoon, who had been lounging on his bed with his laptop open, looked up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’re different,” Soonyoung said, crossing his arms. “You’re actually smiling. You’re not as... grumpy anymore. Did you get a new pet or something?”

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. “No, no new pet. Just... you know. Life’s good.”

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk forming. “Uh-huh. So, it’s ‘life’s good,’ huh? Is this about Y/n?”

Jihoon froze for a second, his eyes widening. He wasn’t exactly trying to keep things a secret, but Soonyoung was quick to catch on. “What?” Jihoon tried to brush it off, but it was no use.

“I knew it,” Soonyoung said, grinning. “You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?”

Jihoon let out a frustrated sigh, but a soft smile tugged at his lips. “It’s not like that. We’ve just been hanging out a lot lately. I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“Oh, please,” Soonyoung laughed, throwing himself onto Jihoon’s bed.

“I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re crushing on someone. You’ve been acting differently, Jihoon. You actually care about your schedule now. You used to skip meals like it was nothing, but now I see you going to class early, and I even saw you texting Y/n before your last lecture yesterday.”

Jihoon felt his cheeks heat up. “Okay, okay, you got me. But it’s not a big deal.”

Soonyoung sat up, his grin never fading. “You’re so obvious, man. You’re just making it worse by trying to act like it’s nothing. Just admit it: you like her.”

Jihoon sighed but couldn’t help the smile that broke out across his face.

“Fine, I like her. Happy now?”

Soonyoung let out a dramatic gasp. “I knew it! Jihoon’s got a crush! You two are so cute. But seriously, don’t mess it up.”

Jihoon ran a hand through his hair, the smile still on his face. “I’m trying not to. It’s just... I’ve never really done this before, you know?”

Soonyoung patted Jihoon’s back. “It’s all good. Just take it easy. You’re doing fine. Just keep being yourself.”

As the conversation ended, Jihoon found himself thinking about how much he had changed over the past few weeks.

He wasn’t just going through the motions anymore; he was actually living, enjoying these moments with you. And he couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—there was something more to explore between the two of you.

It was a Friday night, and you were at your apartment with Yerin and Jennie, sprawled across your couch with snacks, blankets, and plenty of gossip.

The three of you had been best friends for what felt like forever, and sleepovers were a tradition. You’d all gathered to catch up, share some laughs, and spill some tea—this time, about your not-so-secret crush.

Yerin was curled up with her phone, scrolling through TikTok, while Jennie, ever the gossip queen, was snuggled under a blanket beside you, eagerly waiting for you to spill the details.

“So,” Jennie said, raising an eyebrow and giving you a mischievous smile. “How’s Jihoon? Been seeing each other a lot lately?”

You paused for a moment, unsure if you were ready to admit just how much you liked him yet. But you knew your best friends well, and there was no point in holding back.

They’d seen you go through a million crushes, and they weren’t about to let you keep this one under wraps for long.

“I mean…” you began, glancing at Yerin for support, “It’s been nice, really nice. We’ve been hanging out a lot lately—like, almost every day after class.”

Jennie’s eyes immediately widened. “Wait, what? Every day? Are you telling me that you two have become, like, regulars at that diner near campus?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you chuckled. “We get dinner there after classes, talk about anything and everything. It’s kind of become our thing.”

Yerin, who had been half-paying attention, looked up from her phone at the mention of Jihoon. “Wait a second, hold on. I thought Jihoon was this… grumpy, antisocial guy. You know, the one who never really goes out?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” you said with a small laugh. “But honestly? I think he’s just been waiting for the right person. And I guess… maybe I’m that person.”

Jennie grinned widely, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement. “Oh my god, I knew it! I saw the way you two were around each other last time, and I was like, ‘Something’s going on here.’ You two just click.”

Yerin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So, how does he feel about you? You’ve been spending all this time with him. Have you two… talked about anything serious yet?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the fluttering in your chest as you thought about Jihoon.

“We haven’t really defined anything yet. I think we’re both just taking things slow. But honestly, I feel like there’s a connection there, something real.”

Yerin smiled knowingly, setting her phone down. “I can tell you like him, Y/n. And I’m glad he’s making you happy. Just make sure to take it slow and enjoy the ride. You don’t have to rush into anything.”

Jennie, ever the romantic, added, “Yeah, but also, when are you two going to make it official? I’m dying to hear how this all goes down.”

You laughed, brushing your hair out of your face. “I don’t know if we’re at that point yet. We’re still just figuring things out.”

“Right, right,” Jennie teased. “But I know how you are, Y/n. You’re gonna make him fall for you, and it’s going to be cute. You two are a total power couple in the making.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you appreciated their support. “I’m just trying to enjoy these moments with him right now. But… I don’t know. I think I’m starting to like him more than I expected.”

Yerin leaned back, resting her head on the pillow, clearly satisfied with the conversation.

“You’re allowed to like him, Y/n. Honestly, I think Jihoon’s a good match for you. He’s different from the guys you usually go for. He seems like he genuinely cares.”

Jennie gave a dramatic sigh. “I’m already calling dibs on being your maid of honor whenever you two get married.”

Yerin snorted, throwing a pillow at Jennie. “Are you trying to jinx it already? Slow down, lovebird.”

You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest as your best friends teased you. It felt good to talk about Jihoon, to let someone else in on what you were feeling. It was different from all the other crushes you’d had, and you knew that it was only the beginning of something special.

But for now, you were content to take it one step at a time, with your friends by your side and Jihoon slowly making his way into your heart.

After a long and stressful week of finals, you were finally free. The relief that flooded over you was immense, and the anticipation of meeting Jihoon made it even sweeter.

You had both been texting throughout the week, but with finals consuming all of your time, you hadn't been able to meet up. Tonight, though, was different.

Jihoon had messaged you earlier, asking if you wanted to meet up once you were done with everything. You could already feel the excitement building in your chest.

As you walked out of the library, the crisp night air greeted you, and your phone buzzed in your pocket. Jihoon’s message appeared on the screen:

Jihoon: "Hey, I was thinking we could grab dinner. You deserve a break after finals. I’ll meet you at that place we like near campus, yeah?"

You smiled at the message and quickly typed back:

You: "Sounds perfect. I’ll be there in 15 minutes."

You quickly made your way to the restaurant, the weight of finals lifting off your shoulders with each step.

When you arrived, you spotted Jihoon waiting for you outside, his usual shy smile lighting up his face as soon as he saw you. He looked great, as always, but there was something about him tonight—something more confident, like he had been looking forward to this just as much as you had.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice already filled with warmth.

“Hey, Y/n. How was the last exam?” Jihoon asked, his voice a little more relaxed than usual, but still filled with genuine interest.

“It was tough, but I’m just happy it’s over. I could finally breathe,” you said with a smile.

Jihoon chuckled softly, pushing open the door to the restaurant and letting you go in first. The place was cozy, with dim lighting and soft jazz music playing in the background.

You’d been here a few times before, and it always felt like the perfect spot to relax and enjoy good food.

“So, what’s the plan now that finals are done?” Jihoon asked as you both sat down. He’d already taken the liberty of ordering a drink for you, something you’d mentioned you liked in passing weeks ago. It was a small gesture, but one that made your heart flutter.

“Honestly, I just want to take it easy and catch up with you,” you said, your voice gentle. “I’ve missed this.”

Jihoon smiled, and you could tell he felt the same. “Same here. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

After you both ordered your meals, the conversation flowed effortlessly. It was easy with Jihoon, like you didn’t have to worry about the awkward pauses or overthinking what you said. It just felt natural.

You talked about how your finals had gone, the stress, and everything in between. Jihoon, despite his quiet nature, opened up more than usual, and you could tell the weight of the past week had lifted from his shoulders as well.

As the evening went on, Jihoon casually leaned back in his chair and seemed to hesitate for a moment, almost as if gathering his thoughts. You didn’t mind the pause, enjoying the quiet comfort of just being in each other’s company.

“I know we’ve been through a lot recently with exams and everything, but… I’ve been thinking about something,” Jihoon began, his voice soft.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What is it?”

Jihoon took a deep breath, and you could see the hint of nervousness in his expression. “I’ve really enjoyed these past few weeks with you, Y/n. More than I expected, honestly. I know we’re both busy, but I want to see you more. Not just as a friend… but as something more.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a blush creep up your neck. “Jihoon…”

He smiled shyly. “I’m not good with words, but… I really like you. A lot. I want to be with you. Would you be my girlfriend?”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the realization hitting you hard. You had felt the same way, but hearing him say it out loud made everything feel more real.

A smile spread across your face as you reached out, taking his hand across the table. “Yes, Jihoon. I’d love to.”

The relief on his face was instant, and you could see the happiness in his eyes. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.”

And in that moment, with the lights of the restaurant casting a soft glow around you, everything felt right. It was the perfect end to a stressful week—and the beginning of something even more beautiful.

After dinner, Jihoon suggested that you both head to his place. He had mentioned before that he had a small studio where he worked on his music, and tonight, it seemed like the perfect time to finally show you what he’d been working on.

“You know, I was thinking of taking you to my studio,” Jihoon said as you walked side by side toward his apartment building. “I’ve been working on something… and I think it’s time I share it with you.”

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Something? What is it?”

Jihoon just smiled, his gaze a little more secretive. “You’ll see.”

Once you arrived at his place, Jihoon led you up to the small studio in the corner of the building. The space was cozy, but you could immediately tell it was filled with character.

There were posters of old-school musicians on the walls, a few vintage records stacked neatly in one corner, and the warm light from a desk lamp illuminated a red guitar leaning against a chair.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Jihoon said, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll just grab my guitar.”

You sat down, looking around the room, the quiet hum of anticipation settling in your chest. Jihoon moved around the room, picking up the guitar and tuning it for a moment before sitting down beside you.

His fingers brushed the strings, testing them one last time, before he looked at you, his expression soft and sincere.

“I wrote this song a while ago,” Jihoon began, his voice low, almost as if he were gathering courage. “And honestly, I didn’t know if I would ever share it with anyone. But when I started to really think about it, I realized… you’re the inspiration for it. I wanted to play it for you.”

You watched him, your heart already fluttering. “Jihoon…”

With a soft breath, he started playing, the chords flowing from the guitar as if they had been meant for this moment. The melody was gentle at first, and as he sang the lyrics, his voice blended effortlessly with the soothing tune.

It was clear that every word was carefully chosen, every note filled with emotion. And as the song progressed, you could feel the weight of his words hitting deep.

The lyrics were simple but beautiful, each line a reflection of how Jihoon saw you—his "ruby"—his muse, his heart’s desire.

As the last note faded, Jihoon set the guitar down beside him and looked at you, his eyes slightly unsure. “I… I know it’s a lot, but I wanted you to hear it. Because you’re the one who inspired it.”

You were silent for a moment, taking in everything—the song, his vulnerability, and the realization that Jihoon had really opened up to you in a way he hadn’t with anyone else. It took you a second to gather your thoughts, but when you finally spoke, your voice was soft, filled with sincerity.

“That was beautiful, Jihoon,” you whispered, your heart swelling. “I can’t believe you wrote that for me.”

Jihoon’s expression softened, and for a moment, he looked a little embarrassed. “I didn’t know how to tell you. But now, I guess there’s no hiding it anymore.”

You smiled, reaching out to touch his hand. “I’m really glad you did.”

There was a brief silence, but this time it was comfortable, filled with the weight of the connection you shared. Jihoon looked at you, his eyes full of warmth and something deeper. It was clear to you now—he had fallen for you, and he had done it in the most beautiful way possible.

After a few beats, Jihoon spoke again, his voice quiet but steady.

“You know,” he began, his tone playful but filled with sincerity, “you really have a way of turning my entire routine upside down.”

You raised an eyebrow, still feeling the warmth of the music and his words. “Oh really? What do you mean by that?”

Jihoon chuckled softly, the sound low and comfortable.

“I mean, my life was pretty predictable before you came around. Gym, classes, music, rinse and repeat. But now, it’s like—” he trailed off for a second, gathering his thoughts, “—I actually look forward to getting out of bed in the morning, you know? To seeing you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, but you couldn’t resist teasing him. “Oh, so I’m just some distraction now, huh? Are you telling me I’ve become the highlight of your boring routine?”

Jihoon’s eyes softened, a smile curling at the corners of his lips as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping just a little. “If that makes me sound like I’m complaining, then yes. You’re the perfect distraction. The best one I never knew I needed.”

You let out a small laugh, not able to hide how happy that made you feel. “I don’t know if I should feel flattered or worried.”

“You should definitely feel flattered,” Jihoon teased, tapping the back of his hand against your knee. “But seriously, I’m really glad you’re in my life now. It’s like... you’ve made everything a little more exciting.”

You met his gaze, the playful air between you both still hanging, but something deeper flickered in his eyes now—something genuine, something real.

“Well, I’m glad I’m not just some distraction then,” you said, shifting slightly to face him fully. “And here I thought you were going to tell me I was ruining your carefully planned life.”

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. “No way. I never knew how much I needed this kind of chaos until you showed up.”

There was a brief pause, and then Jihoon leaned in a little closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, it’s nice having someone who actually doesn’t mind the mess I call my life.”

“Well, good thing I’m here then,” you replied with a wink. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Jihoon smiled, a mix of playfulness and tenderness in his expression. “Good. Because I kind of like this version of my life now. With you in it.”

With that, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and as he did, you both shared a quiet moment, the atmosphere charged with the kind of ease that came only with truly being yourselves around each other.

The hum of his guitar, still resting by his side, seemed to match the rhythm of the moment. And as Jihoon leaned back into his seat, he added with a cheeky grin, “Also, just so you know… if you ever need a song to get stuck in your head, you’ve got the perfect one now.”

You laughed, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “Yeah, I think that’s gonna be stuck in my head for a while. Especially when it’s your fault.”

Jihoon’s grin widened. “You’re welcome,” he teased.

© rubyuji 2025’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[limeekak]

"Please, I need you"

I need you here. I need you close. I need your touch. Please wait for me. Please.

Oh, hi 🤭 I can't explain how proud I am of this art. I've been wanting to base my art "Romeo and Juliet" on it for a while, and I finally did it! I wanted to try doing something more melancholic too, and I plan on looking into doing more in that style

Interpret this drawing however you wish, your imagination is the leader here!

without blood

I hope y'all enjoyed it!! 😋

speedart

some of my tests:

I had two options for painting them. One was to make them as statues, and the other was to make them colorful. In the end I chose the colorful one, although it didn't turn out exactly how I had imagined, but I liked it anyway

reference

[wabart]

I need you to know that i read your latest chapter this morning and been trying to write a thoughtful and detailed comment about how excited i was for you to tackle the "Inner Demons*" quest, and how breathtaking your chapter was, but unfortunately it broke my brain?? And all i can do is reread it another 10 times and maybe cry a lil bit 😭 thank you for all your amazing work, It's truly such a treat anytime you post art or fic!! And everytime you post art it makes me wanna pick up my pencil again, so thanks :')

😭😭🫂💖 thank you so much!!! I'm glad you liked it!! I hope the rest of the fic doesn't disappoint either :'') and YAAAAY!!!! Do it!! pick up your pencil!!! True happiness is drawing whatever comes to mind for the sake of making it. My favourite is art I can put squiggles on. Like in this piece:

the squiggles are there on his body both bc its cool and also because i didnt want to draw that part of his outfit. it was sos sososo fun too.

and you can see further evidence of squiggles back here as well. the following has no squiggles but it does have fabric textures!!! which is fun too!! highly recommend!!!

anyway ya i just wanted to share. when something like fabric or hands etc etc is considered difficult and i loathe doing it, i practice it until i enjoy doing it, and then its all fun again!!! same with writing. i work on what im bad at because the progress is the most noticeable and thats whats really exciting about creating stuff :)

[blue-jisungs]

hellooooo! CONGRATS ON HITTING 8K FOLLOWERS LIKE WOWW ALJDKAJSS IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU THIS IS SO COOL AND AMAZING!!!! now i saw your post and i know i dont write a lot, but you’re still one of the reasons i go on tumblr because i love seeing you write and just you talking with people through asks! now my ask is Stickers and Soul (Shota Haku) from P1Harmony! I think stickers if they’re so adorable like aldjakjdnss like just putting them in each others arms and things! Cute! Or making something funny on paper with them! Anyways! Its your call what you want to do or if you want to do it!

and again! Congrats on 8k!!!! You deserve it!!!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ LIKE A STICKER 🧸ྀི — putting stickers on soul’s face ( wc 666 lol )

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! YOU DONT EVEN KNOW HOW HAPPY THAT REQ GOT ME!!! i just love stickers so much and i love soul and it’s actually a perfect req so i hope you enjoy it!!! esp like,, i JUST saw them and they wont leave my mind im so happy someone reqd for piwon<333 and also thank you so much !! <3 it means the world to me <333

@kstrucknet

“wait, shota, don’t move” you whined, a pout forming on your lips.

the boy sitting underneath you just stuck his tongue out in a playful manner, not caring one bit. you peeked at the switch in his hands – he was clearly too busy with mining.

you sighed softly and leaned to grab another sheet of stickers. you eyed them, humming in thought which one to choose.

then, you glanced at your boyfriend’s face. he already had some stickers on. a small cat one on his cheek, some flowers and butterflies. there were a couple on his forehead and a fries one on his chin.

“okay, i found more iron” he announced and you glanced at the screen of his switch again.

“nice” you smiled and suddenly an idea bloomed in your mind.

you started humming a random tiktok sound that has been stuck in your head and chose the sticker. then, you gently grabbed shota’s chin.

he followed, finally looking up from his game. his lips parted slightly, his gaze hard to crack.

you took the sticker and gently placed it on his nose, letting go of his chin to press it a bit to make sure it won’t fall off.

you admired your artwork with a proud grin. but you weren’t the only one – shota was also adoring you right now. you just looked so happy, so pretty.

you started to get a little cramped up from sitting for so long in his lap so you decided to take a picture and get off.

“let me show you” you grinned and reached for your phone, opening your camera.

you two giggled at the silly faces he made (and also one or two normal ones, when he was still to busy staring at you to notice the phone). once done, you tossed your phone to the side and was about to get up, when shota pulled you back.

“huh? what is it?” you asked, eyes wide.

he put away his switch and guided your hands to his cheeks. his own hands wrapped around your waist, thumbs drawing circles on your hoodie.

you traced the stickers carefully, not wanting them to fall off.

the small alien face you put on his nose was so goofy you just couldn’t help but snort with laughter.

“will you kiss me or do i have to put a sticker on my lips too…?” shota asked suddenly and you looked him in the eye, a flustered blush forming on your face.

“hmph, i don’t think that’s necessary” you teased and cupped his face gently before shortening the distance.

his lips were soft but oh, so starved for you. shota welcomed your lips on his with a happy hum, the hands on your waist pulling you even closer.

before you could deepen the sweet kiss, he shook his head and pulled away. you didn’t even have time to ask him what’s wrong when suddenly, he flipped you over so you were now laying on the couch with your head against the pillow.

flustered and flabbergasted, you had no words to stutter as he hovered over you with a devilish smirk.

“now my turn!” he announced happily, waving the sticker sheets in front of your face. oh.

you let out a small sigh but couldn’t help to smile wildly.

“we’re gonna match” shota said, a small focused frown forming on his face as he searched for the perfect stickers to put on your face.

when he found the first one, he gently grabbed it on the top of his pointer finger and leaned his face close to yours. you could feel his breath fanning on your cheeks and you subconsciously turned your head a bit to hide your flustered state.

“see, now you know how hard it was to stay still” he giggled and eventually placed the small heart sticker under your eye.

yeah, you’re just now realizing what a torture it’s gonna be.

shota, however, seemed to enjoy this a little too much.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,,

@mon2sunjinsuver,, @litepowee ,, @l3visbby

[myloversgone]

Dean x OFC: Short and Sweet

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Maisie (OFC)

Warnings: +18. Trigger warnings: Abusive relationship. Emotional negligence. Physical abuse. OFC’s boyfriend is a jackass. Smut. P in V. Unprotected sex (it’s fiction, people). Porn but also fluff and romantic, because it’s me.

Summary: When Dean was introduced to one of Sam’s old friends from Stanford, he didn’t expect his whole world to change.

Word count: ~15K (I’M SO SORRY, IT’S BEEN TOO LONG SINCE I WROTE SOMETHING, OKAY)

A/N 1: This story is set during the first seasons, probably around year 4. Don’t know exactly how long it would’ve taken Sam to finish Stanford, but I believe it would be around four years, so let’s imagine the brothers are young. Dean’s behavior in the beginning is also more like in the first seasons, so bear with me.

A/N 2: I have my very first original character! That’s scary. The image of her came to my mind so clearly, I couldn’t just ignore it. I kept writing and imagining her, it couldn’t be Y/N this time. It sucks that I can’t draw a straight line to save my life, ‘cause I wanted so badly to draw her so you guys can see her the way I do!

Anyways, I hope this story doesn’t suck too much. I wrote three versions of it before deciding this one was the best way to tell it.

A/N 3: I started writing this fic in May, 2022, and could only finish it now. The plan was to post it on Dean’s birthday, but it wasn’t possible, unfortunately. Life has been chill lol.

Enjoy the reading and don’t forget to leave feedback!

MASTERLIST

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The first time Dean saw her, was in a picture. The corners of the photo were in shreds; it was folded in the middle, forever creased from being kept inside Sam’s wallet for so long. Despite its poor state, Dean would never forget it.

"Hey, Dean", Sam had called.

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel about going to a party?"

Dean, who had been searching for a clean shirt in his duffel bag, immediately stopped what he was doing, turning around and staring at his younger brother.

"Excuse me? Are you feeling ok?", he asked, brow raised.

"Seriously, dude”, Sam replied, rolling his eyes. “It's a friend's party", he let his arms fall on his sides, exasperated.

"What friend? You don't have any friends", Dean mocked.

"I do, actually. This is Maisie", he extended the crumpled photo to Dean. It showed a younger Sam during his Stanford era, standing next to Jessica and another girl, whom Sam was pointing at. "I met her in college. She's graduating now, so she invited me over for a party at her house. She knows we’re in California".

Dean looked at the picture with growing interest. The younger version of Sam was smiling in the photo, with Jessica standing between him and the other girl. Sam had his arm around Jess’ shoulders, and the girl had her arm linked with the blonde’s. They were all smiling. Maisie, Sam said that was the girl’s name. She had brown hair, styled in a pixie cut that gave her an edgy look. Her big, rounded eyes were brown too. Her cheeks were flushed and her captivating smile reached her eyes. It wasn’t a full body picture, but Dean could tell the girl was short, because Jessica was way taller than her.

"She's cute”, he elbowed Sam. “Is she single?”

"Dude, no. She has a boyfriend, but he’s a douchebag. His name’s Eric and they met in Stanford too". Sam shrugged, making a disgusted face.

"Huh. And what's so special about her that makes you want to go to her party?". Dean crossed his arms in front of his chest, ready to hear the answer.

"Maisie’s the nicest girl, Dean. She introduced me to Jess. They were friends first, I met her and then it was the three of us against the world”, Sam smiled, reminiscing about a special time of his life. “I miss her a lot. Remember I went to a friend’s parents’ funeral, like, two years ago? It was her mom and dad. Poor girl’s been through hell. Also… she knows about what we do", Sam said, grimacing and lowering his voice, as if he was confessing a crime.

"What?", Dean was surprised with the fact that Sam told someone about their biggest secret.

"I helped her with a witch once. She hid hex bags all over Maisie’s dorm. That’s how we met, actually. So I ended up telling her", he shrugged.

"Oh, well, one day you’re gonna have to tell me the whole story of the witch of Stanford. Anyways, I didn't know you were still in touch with people from college", Dean stated.

Sam sighed. "Actually, Maisie’s the only one I still talk to. But, look, Dean, if you don't wanna go, fine. I’ll go alone".

"Wait, who said I don't wanna go? Of course I wanna go! Hot chicks and free booze? When do we leave?", said Dean, rubbing his hands together and grinning.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The first time Dean saw her in person, he won’t forget either.

He and Sam arrived at Maisie’s when it was just getting dark. Her house was small but cozy looking, and the path leading to the spacious backyard was decorated with hanging light bulbs. Dean could hear voices and the clink of glasses, along with some music, coming from the back.

“This is the house her parents left for her”, Sam explained.

“How did they die?”, Dean asked, closing the Impala’s door and walking to his brother’s side.

“Car accident. Pretty awful”, Sam shook his head, pausing when he saw someone coming from the end of the lighted path as they stepped on the entryway.

Having heard the sound of the car, Maisie came to check. Dean was right: she was short. He found it cute. Her face lit up when she saw Sam and, as the old friends hugged, he couldn’t help but notice her toned, thick legs. She was wearing a light green summer dress with little white flowers drawn all over it, matched with a pair of white Chuck Taylors.

Don’t know why, but I already like everything about her, Dean thought, watching the girl with growing interest.

"I'm so glad you're here, Sam!", Maisie greeted, holding the younger Winchester’s hand.

"I'm glad to be here too, Maisie. Congratulations!", Sam gave her another quick side hug, making the girl smile grow wider.

"Thanks! I'm a lawyer now, so you know who to call if you ever need one", she winked at him, hinting at their little secret.

"Well, if he doesn't call you, I certainly will", Dean interrupted the friends’ conversation, since Sam hadn’t introduced him yet.

"Oh, sorry, this is my brother Dean. Dean, this is Maisie", Sam said, finally.

"Nice to meet you, Maisie", Dean shook her hand, eyes taking in her beautiful, soft features.

"Nice to meet you too, Dean. Sam told me a lot about you", she said, remembering all the times Sam mentioned his brother, always with love and admiration.

The feeling of Dean’s warm, big hand around hers brought a sense of security she hadn’t felt in a while. Even if she didn’t know he was Sam’s brother, Dean would be a person she would trust immediately. He just had that aura.

"Only good things, I hope", Dean joked, winking at her. He deliberately let his fingers linger a little, the softness of her skin drawing him in.

"Oh, yeah! You’re the best brother ever, apparently", she shot back, earning a grin from him.

"He's right about that", was Dean’s reply, and it made Maisie laugh. She didn’t think she’d ever met someone as handsome as Sam’s brother. He looked like he came directly from the pages of a magazine, a Hollywood movie or something. In his jeans and a worn-out oversized leather jacket, he was simply stunning. She couldn’t help but avert his piercing gaze, feeling suddenly shy with the intensity of it.

"So, Maisie, where's Eric?", Sam asked. Not that he cared about the guy; he was just asking because he knew Eric from before. It would be weird not to ask.

"Oh, he- uh, he had a work thing, so-", she tried to explain, tugging an invisible strand of hair behind her ear, nervously.

"He didn’t come", Sam finished, incredulous. Even though he was already familiar with the way Eric seemed to undervalue the important moments of Maisie’s life, he couldn’t help but hope the guy had finally changed.

Her eyes became teary, and Dean hated seeing her like this.

Noticing Dean’s gaze, she recomposed herself, chuckling humorlessly. "Yeah, you guessed it right. But it doesn’t matter, I’ve already dealt with that”. Without giving any more details, she clapped her hands together and looked from one brother to another, shoving the resentment over Eric’s actions down. “So, you guys want some beer?", she pointed over her shoulder to the inside of the house.

"I'm fine for now, thanks. I'm gonna go say hi to the rest of the gang", answered Sam, looking over his shoulder to the corner of the house, where he could see some of his old classmates among Maisie's guests hanging out in the backyard.

"I'll take that beer", said Dean. Not only he never said no to a beer before, but he also hoped to spend some time with her. For some reason, he took an immediate liking to Maisie. She seemed very nice. And she was pretty.

"Great! Come with me", she said, turning and gesturing for him to follow.

Once inside, Dean noticed right away that the outside of the house gave a perfectly good idea of how the inside looked. The place was cozy, small and neat. He didn’t remember ever being in a typical countryside home, but he was pretty sure it would look somewhat like Maisie’s home, maybe a little bigger.

He looked around while she opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles, opening them, giving one to Dean and leaning against the kitchen counter. When she led the bottle to her lips, Dean noticed that her right hand was bandaged.

"What happened to your hand, if you don't mind me asking?", he questioned, taking a sip of the cold beverage.

"Oh, I hurt it while I was hanging the lights. The ones at the entrance. Eric was supposed to help me but, as you know, he didn’t show up, so…", she left the sentence incomplete, shrugging as if it was nothing, but Dean could tell she was upset about it.

"It seems like your boyfriend is not very… present", he commented, trying to take it easy on his disapproving tone, but failing to do it.

"Yeah, you can say that", Maisie replied, her voice barely audible.

“Sorry about that”, Dean said and approached her, gently holding her hand and looking at the bandage, just to make sure she dressed the wound properly.

The girl felt her heart racing. She knew Dean and Sam got hurt a lot. Their job was scary and dangerous, so Dean was probably just seeing if she had taken good care of the wound. But that was exactly what made her heart skip a couple of beats. I mean, how sweet is it that he barely knows me and is being so nice already?, she thought.

Maisie felt an urge to get closer to him, to open her heart and let him in. The last time she did that was with Eric, and it hasn’t worked well. But, somehow, she knew Dean was different.

“I wish that was the worst thing he’d done”, she said, more to herself than to Dean.

“Sorry?”, Dean raised his head, still holding her hand.

“E- Eric, I mean. He also didn’t come to my parents’ funeral’, she explained, knowing it was too late to ask Dean to let it go. Might as well finish what I’ve started.

"Wow. I'm sorry, but that's fucked up, Maisie". A mixture of anger and pity, that was what Dean was feeling. Maisie was a good person, based on what Sam said. And even if she weren’t, what kind of boyfriend doesn't go to his girlfriend's parents' funeral?

"I'm sorry, Dean. I- I don't know why I said that out loud", she took her injured hand away from his and placed the tips of her fingers on her temples, rubbing lightly. She didn’t want his pity. She wasn’t sure of why she shared that particular story with him, but she was regretting it now.

"No, it's fine. It's not okay that he wasn't there. Or that he ain't here", he added, standing by her side and leaning against the counter too.

"Yeah. But it’s ok. Thanks for saying that, though. Should we go outside?", she asked and forced a smile, deciding it was best to enjoy the night and forget about things that weren’t as good as she wanted.

Dean shrugged. "I wouldn't mind staying here talking to you for a bit more, but yeah, let's go".

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Another thing Dean would never forget was how easy and fun that night was.

Most of it was because of Maisie. She was such a good hostess, always making sure people were comfortable, well fed and with their cups full.

Her guests involved some friends and former colleagues, along with two cousins; no more than a dozen people. Everyone was nice and friendly, and Dean could tell Sam was enjoying being amongst people he knew outside the hunting world. For a moment, his mind wandered: how would life be if they were normal, 20-something dudes? Would they go to a lot of parties? Would Sam and Jess be married by now?

Despite the wandering thoughts, Dean was having fun too. Maisie included him in every conversation. He was the outsider, after all. She sat by his side and touched his hand and arm often, not letting him close himself off or feel intimidated by the group of Stanford’s nerds, as she was calling her friends, which made Dean chuckle.

As the night went on, Dean felt more and more drawn to her. Hell, he knew getting involved with someone who was in what it seemed like a complicated relationship was the fastest way to walk right into a huge problem. But he couldn’t care less this time. He wanted Maisie, and he had a feeling she might want him too.

So Dean flirted with her a few times, trying not to be too obvious. He didn’t want her thinking he was just trying to get laid, because he wasn’t. His first goal was to make her feel wanted and valued. He had a feeling Eric didn’t do that very often.

When the pizzas she'd ordered arrived, he got up from his seat and offered to help bringing them to the backyard.

"Thanks, Dean", she smiled at him, accepting the offer and assessing his face, trying to understand why he was being so nice.

"No worries, sweetheart".

The endearment made her blush. Maisie was finding it hard to believe Dean was real. He was too handsome for his own good. From the freckled skin to the dark blonde hair and the green eyes, he was damn perfect. Plus, he was funny and nice to everyone. She was fascinated with him.

Deciding she might as well enjoy the attention she wasn’t used to getting, she hooked her arm in his and led him to the front yard, where the delivery guy was waiting.

They grabbed the pizzas and went inside the house again. Dean waited while Maisie was looking for some paper plates.

“Ugh”, she complained, getting on her tiptoes so she could search inside a high cupboard, “I could’ve sworn those plates were somewhere in here”.

Smiling at her efforts to reach a door that was way too high for her height, Dean walked to her, extending his arm and easily retrieving the plates and handing them to Maisie.

She smiled and crossed her arms in front of her chest, which made Dean stare at her boobs for like two seconds. He couldn’t really help himself. She didn’t seem to notice, and was faking annoyance with the fact that he was so much taller than her.

“That was a little humiliating, Winchester, but thanks for the help”, she joked, taking the plates and patting his arm lightly.

He laughed. “Sure. What kind of man would I be if I saw a pretty lady in distress and had done nothing about it?”, Dean teased a little more, making her smile widen.

“What a gentleman!”, Maisie shook her head, motioning for him to follow her outside.

In the backyard, they placed the pizzas on a table at the corner and Maisie gave each guest a plate, inviting them to help themselves to the food. She and Dean grabbed a slice each and went back to sit at their previous chairs.

“Tell me, Dean”, she started, after swallowing a considerably big bite of her slice, “how are you single?”.

He stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong”, she continued, noticing he was surprised with the sudden question. “You’re a nice, smart guy. You have a cool car - yes, I’ve seen her when you guys arrived, and Sam told me all about your Baby -,” she added when he smiled, pleased to know she noticed his most beloved possession, “and you’re obviously very good looking. And yet, you’re here, hanging out with your brother’s friend, in a party full of Law school nerds. Why aren’t you out there, at some cool bar, flirting with some tall, busty blonde?”. Maisie shook her head, honestly trying to find some explanation for why Dean was there, at her house, where he could literally be fooling around with any woman in town.

Dean chuckled, and Maisie found it cute how his ears turned red when she complimented him.

“Well, first of all, thanks. Second of all, don’t think so little of yourself. Sam told me you know what we do for a living”, he whispered the last part, getting closer to her, and his hot breath formed goosebumps on her skin. “So you also know we don’t usually go to normal parties. Fuck, who am I kidding? We never go to any party, period. That being said, it’s been fun hanging out with you and your friends. Especially with you. It’s nice to talk about normal stuff, being around normal people”, he shrugged, and she could see he was being honest. Maisie felt sorry for him. He had to face so many scary, dangerous things, and could never enjoy a break, something as simple as eating pizza and drinking beer with friends in the backyard.

“Also”, he continued talking, bringing her back from her thoughts, “I had my time with busty blondes in bars. Now I prefer to hang out with pretty girls who happen to have good taste in beer”. Dean winked at her, biting at his lower lip, gaze switching from her eyes to her lips, making Maisie feel her insides clench.

Damn, he’s hot, she thought.

“So, I guess the reason why I’m single, aside from the life I live, I mean, is that all the beautiful girls who just graduated are stuck with jerks for boyfriends��.

Maisie laughed, finding his unashamed flirtation amusing.

“I said you’re nice, smart and handsome, but I forgot the most important part: you’re funny too!”, she exclaimed, playfully punching his arm.

He smiled back, and she shook her head, looking down and becoming serious again.

“I broke up with Eric, Dean”, Maisie confessed, surprising Dean.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Earlier today, before you and Sam arrived, I texted him, because everyone else was already here, except for Eric. He texted me back ‘can’t make it, stuck at work’”, she chuckled, humorlessly. “The bastard didn’t even say he was sorry. So I paid him the same respect he paid me. I texted back, saying he shouldn’t bother showing up ever again, that I didn’t wanna see his face and it was all over between us. He never answered”, Maisie finished, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this, Maisie. But, for what’s worth, I think you did the right thing. He doesn’t deserve you”, Dean stated, green eyes staring into her dark ones, the intensity of his stare making her heart race.

“Our relationship was over way before today, to be honest. But thanks for saying that, Dean”.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart”.

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Around 11:30 P.M., people started to leave. Sam, Dean and one of Maisie’s cousins were the only ones still there.

Maisie was leaning against the table, chatting with her cousin and stealing glances at Sam and Dean. They were helping her put all the trash that was scattered around the backyard in a bag. Dean noticed she told something to the girl and pointed her chin in their direction, walking towards them a second later, towing the cousin by the girl’s hand.

“Sam”, Maisie called, making Sam get up from where he was crouched, picking up some plastic cups and dirty napkins from the floor.

“Can you do me a favor and drive Betty home? She lives on the other side of town with our aunt Theresa, who’s an old lady and can’t be alone for too long. Would you give her a ride, please, so she doesn’t have to wait for a cab?”, Maisie explained.

“Of course!”, Sam agreed immediately, looking at Dean, who was already fishing the car keys from the front pocket of his jeans. They both noticed that Maisie asked for Sam to give Betty a ride home, and not Dean, so she obviously wanted him to stay.

Sam caught the keys Dean tossed at him, and Dean watched the corners of his mouth turn up into a smirk. Sam didn’t say anything, but he knew his older brother well, and he also knew Maisie. He’d noticed their behavior the whole night and how they got along. Him driving Maisie’s cousin to the other side of town was the perfect excuse for them to be alone.

After Sam left with Betty and they were done cleaning up, Dean tied the trash bag and placed it on the side of the house. Maisie was waiting for him at the backdoor, holding some leftover pizza and the paper plates that weren’t used.

They both entered the small kitchen and Dean leaned against the counter, watching while she silently put everything back in its place.

"So", he started, getting her attention, "that was a good party".

"Thanks", Maisie replied, smiling. "I'm glad you guys came. I mean, I finally got to meet the famous Dean Winchester", she joked, that beautiful blush rising on her cheeks again.

He chuckled, lowering his head and scratching his neck. Maisie only knew Dean for a few hours and she already noticed the gesture meant he was nervous. She found it cute.

"Don't know about the famous part, but I'm glad I got to know you too", he stated while she walked to lean on the counter by his side.

"Yeah? What is it about me that made you glad to be here?", she asked, looking up at him through her thick lashes.

Dean decided to go along with her flirting. She was hot, sexy in a very particular way. She was small, with thick legs, wide hips and a round, ample ass. Her short hair made her look younger than she actually was, and the big rounded eyes added to it. All of that only added to the fact that she was sweet, kind, and funny.

“Huh, let’s see. You’re pretty impressive. I mean, you went through with college, became a lawyer, despite all the shit that happened in your life”, he pondered. “That alone is already awesome. Also ‘cause you’re obviously important to Sam. He wouldn’t come to anyone’s party. Thanks for being a good friend to my brother, by the way”. Dean took her injured hand in his, rubbing her fingers lightly with his thumb.

“You’re welcome”, she said in a low voice. “He’s a great dude”.

“Yeah, he is”, Dean agreed, the pride obvious in his tone. “Oh, how I wish all Sammy’s friends were as easy on the eyes as you are”, he shook his head and tsked, as if he was stating something very, very serious and upsetting.

That made her laugh out loud. She came closer to him, still chuckling, and raised her head to stare into his beautiful green eyes. Dean placed one hand on her cheek, thumb caressing her soft skin, while he kept the other hand on the counter, caging Maisie between his body and the furniture.

Her stare went to his lips and back to his eyes in a quick, almost imperceptible movement. She wanted to kiss him so badly. Her heart was racing, pounding against her chest.

She stood on her tiptoes to reach his face, and Dean slid his hand to the small of her back, supporting her and bringing her close to his body, when-

The sound of a loud honk startled them both, pulling them out of their lust haze.

“What the hell-?”, Maisie cursed, walking to the front door to see who was making such a loud noise that late at night.

Dean followed her to see a blue Prius parked in front of her house. The driver’s door opened widely and a guy got out of the car, stumbling.

“Eric?”, Maisie exclaimed, wide-eyed. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you not to come!”, she said while walking to him, doing her best to keep her voice down and not wake up the neighbors.

The guy came tripping on his own feet, raising his hands as a peace offering. “I know, darling, I saw your text. But I wanted to apologize. I was such a fool-”

“No, no, no”, Maisie interrupted him, raising her own hand to stop Eric mid-speech. “I won’t accept your apology this time, Eric. Just- just go home. You’re obviously drunk, I’m gonna call you a cab”, she turned her back to him, wanting to go inside the house and make the call, but he grabbed her arm, making her stop.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me, bitch!”, he yelled, his grip making it impossible for her to free herself of his hold.

“Let go of me!”, Maisie demanded, turning around and trying to pull her arm, but he grabbed the other one, yanking her closer.

“I won’t let you break up with me!”, he screamed, his face contorting in a mug.

Everything was happening so fast. Maisie tried to take a step back and kick Eric between his legs, but Dean was faster; her was by her side in a second, shoving Eric away and putting himself between the drunk man and Maisie.

“Get away from her, asshole!”, he threatened, pointing a finger to Eric’s face, his other hand splayed on the guy’s chest to stop him from getting to Maisie.

“And who the hell are you?”, Eric questioned, in a drunk drawl, looking from Dean to Maisie, who was rubbing her arms where he had left red marks on her fair skin.

“Doesn’t matter who I am, she asked you to leave, so leave!”, Dean pushed him again, making Eric stumble in the direction of the parked car.

“Oh, so you’re fucking her? Just ‘cause I didn’t come to her stupid party with her stupid nerd friends, she’s already spreading her legs to another dude? I always knew you were a slut!”, Eric spat on the driveway, turning around and running to his car when Dean got closer to him, ready to throw a punch.

“Let him go, Dean. He’s not worth it”, Maisie asked, placing a hand on his back, and Dean stopped.

“Jackass”, Dean said while the other man cowardly drove away, tires screeching.

Dean turned around and went to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and assessing the bruises in both her arms. “Jesus Christ, Maisie, he hurt you. Are you ok?”.

“I’m- I’m ok. God, Dean, he’s super drunk. He’s gonna kill himself in that car”, Maisie said, worried. Tears were running freely down her face.

Dean was much more worried about her than about that piece of crap. But he understood her concern, and didn’t want Maisie to be even more stressed out than she already was.

“Let’s go inside and call the police, sweetheart. We can let them know there’s a drunk dude driving around”, he offered, and she accepted, leaning into his embrace.

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Fifteen minutes later, they had talked to the police and reported Eric. Maisie refused to go to a police station and file a report on his assault. Dean argued, but she promised it was all over between them, that she wouldn’t let Eric be anywhere near her again.

“Besides, he’s probably gonna be arrested for DUI anyways”, she shrugged, not at all feeling sorry for her ex-boyfriend’s future problems with the police.

So Dean made her a cup of tea and they sat on the couch, him helping her put some ice on her bruised arms.

“You sure you’re ok?”, he asked for what had to be the tenth time.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine”, she answered, sniffing.

Dean watched her closer, just to make sure she wasn’t hiding anything.

“Hey, Maisie. Let me ask you something”, he started, and she nodded, signaling he could go ahead. “Has he ever- was he ever violent with you- before?”

She shook her head, but the fresh wave of tears in her eyes told Dean there was a “but” coming. “H-he broke a glass once, when he was really drunk, like today. We argued for the same reason: he wasn’t around when I needed him. I called him out for it, he got mad and threw a glass against the wall. But he never- put his hands on me like this before”, she explained.

Dean slid closer to her, gently catching her tears with his fingertips. “Good. I was afraid it wasn’t the first time he hurt you”.

“Yeah, no, he’s never done that before. Just, you know, didn’t show up, cheated on me and stuff like that”, she shrugged and rolled her eyes like it wasn’t a big deal.

“He cheated on you? Just when I thought he couldn’t be a bigger pile of shit”, Dean shook his head, jaw clenching.

She sighed deeply before answering. “He cheated once, that I know of. And I was stupid enough to forgive him and let him come back”.

“But- I mean, don’t get me wrong here, but… why haven’t you told him to fuck off then?”

Maisie chuckled at Dean’s question. “I guess I was so used to having him around… I mean, we started dating in my first year of college. Things were good between us, as far as I know, except for one or two things here and there. Then, my parents died and he didn’t come to their service. We had an argument that day, and it was the first time I thought about breaking up with him. My friends warned me, Sam included, but I was so scared of being alone, Dean”, she confessed, looking him in the eyes for the first time in a while. “I had just lost the two most important people in my life. I had no close family around, aside from Betty and aunt Theresa. I didn’t wanna lose Eric too, so I thought I should forgive him, make an effort on behalf of our relationship. It was stupid of me, I know”, she finished, covering her face with her hands, regretting her past decision.

“Hey, hey, no”, Dean called, reaching for her, circling her shoulders with one arm so he could give her a side hug. Maisie melted, leaning her cheek on his chest and exhaling a shaky sigh.

He kissed the top of her head, running his hand up and down her back. “You did nothing wrong. Sorry if my question made you think you did. It’s just- you’re such a great girl. I was having a hard time understanding why you were with a guy like him. But I see it now. I know it sucks to feel alone, like you have no one to be your home. I hope you know you don’t need him, Mais”.

Dean parted from her and placed his large hand on her chin, lifting her face up to look her in the eyes. “You’re beautiful, funny, smart, and you have friends all around that love you, sweetheart”, he caressed her jawline with his thumb, the rough pads of his fingers sending a shiver down her spine.

“I like when you say that”, she confessed, smiling under the tears.

Dean raised his eyebrows at her. “When I say what?”, he asked with a mischievous smirk.

“When you call me sweetheart. And ‘Mais’. Nobody ever called me that. I like the nickname. And I like hearing you say ‘sweetheart’”, she blushed furiously, to Dean’s amusement.

“Oh, good to know it makes you blush so prettily”, Dean teased, taking her hand in his and intertwining their fingers. He led their joined hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly, those green eyes never leaving her face.

Maisie’s teary eyes darkened. She wanted him so badly it was overwhelming, but it wasn’t the right moment.

“Dean, I-”

“Sorry”, he interrupted, letting go of her hand and running his fingers through his hair, spiking the soft strands even more. “I just thought- that you and I-”.

“Dean, hear me out”, she placed a finger over his plump lips, effectively shushing him. “I want this to happen, whatever this is, between you and me. I want… to get to know you. If you want to, that is. But I need to make sure it has nothing to do with Eric. With me being in need of comfort, or company, or about you protecting me from him - which I’m thankful for, by the way. I broke up with him and I’m fine with that, ready to forget all about him. Still, I need some time to gather my thoughts, to really understand how I’m feeling, what I’m feeling”, she paused there, grabbing her mug from the coffee table and taking a sip of tea. “I’m probably being so ridiculous right now, but I… I felt something for you the minute I saw you, Dean”, she gulped, scared about how he would react to her confession. If Maisie wasn’t always so rational, she would’ve probably taken things further with Dean that night. But she couldn’t do that. It wasn’t fair with either of them. Still, she knew, in her heart and mind, that she’d never met anyone who made her feel like that before.

Adorably, his ears turned red again. “Bashful” wasn’t an adjective she would use to describe Dean right away - especially because he flirted with her two minutes after they met. But she could already tell he was a complex character, and that was another thing about Sam’s older brother that drew her to him.

“I understand. I also felt something when I saw you earlier today… actually, when Sam showed me a picture of you, I was like ‘damn, she’s gorgeous’”, he revealed, grinning, and Maisie blushed with the compliment.

“Thank you, Dean. That’s very nice of you to say”, she replied, placing her hand over his on the couch. He turned his palm up and laced their fingers again.

“It’s true, though”, he shrugged, and they just sat there for a few minutes, staring at their joined hands until the sound of Dean’s phone made them jump slightly.

He got the phone from the coffee table. “Sam wants to know if he should come back to pick me up”, Dean read the text, looking up at Maisie with a questioning look.

She stared back at him with those big, doe eyes, and he immediately knew he should stay. Understandably, she wasn’t very comfortable with being alone.

“So, is it ok if I stay?”, Dean asked, making sure he got her right.

“I- I can’t ask more from you, Dean. You’ve done so much for me today-”

“No, no, no”, he interrupted, squeezing her hand in reassurance, “I’d rather stay, if that’s ok with you. I’ll feel better knowing you’re ok. I’ll tell Sam to go back to the motel and pick me up in the morning”. Dean smiled and Maisie smiled back, relieved.

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“I can sleep on the couch, you know”, Dean said for the second time, while walking behind Maisie.

“No way, I have a guest room. I mean, it’s not much, it’s just the room that used to be mine, since now I sleep in the room that was my parents’”, she explained, opening the door and entering her former bedroom.

Three walls were painted in a pale lilac, while the fourth one, behind the bed, was purple. The marks on the painting signaled that there were posters or pictures glued there, probably from Maisie’s teenage years.

It was a spacious room with a big, comfy bed. Dean couldn’t even remember the last time he slept in one of those. He was glad for the comfort, but wished the circumstances were different. He wished Maisie didn’t need to be kept safe from a piece of crap like Eric.

“You think you’re gonna be ok in here?”, she interrogated, interrupting his thoughts.

“Hell, yeah”, he said, walking to the bed. “Sweetheart, if you saw the places Sam and I usually crash… this is a freaking palace!”

Maisie chuckled. “Good. There’s some blankets in the closet and towels, if you wanna shower. I’m gonna go to bed now. My room is next door, so just knock if you need something, ok? And make yourself at home”, she said, opening her arms and approaching to give Dean a hug.

“Sleep tight, sweetheart. I’ll be fine”.

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The first time they shared a bed was forever ingrained into Dean’s brain.

Dean woke up with a knock on his door. He listened for a second, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming or imagining things.

Then he heard the knock again, followed by Maisie’s voice calling his name almost in a whisper. “Dean, can I come in?”

He sat up on the bed and told her to come in. She immediately opened the door, looking scared and pale.

“What’s wrong?”, Dean asked, patting on the bed by his side, signaling for her to sit.

“I- I had a nightmare, Dean”, she sat and he could see she was shaking. He held her cold hand, listening attentively. “He- he came for me again. I- I don’t wanna… Can I stay with you?”, she asked, looking up at him with tears in her beautiful eyes.

“Of course. Of course, sweetheart. Come here”, he said, laying on the bed and stretching his arm for her to fit by his side. She lifted the covers and laid down with her head against his chest, legs slotted close to his.

Dean engulfed her in his warmth, noticing she looked even shorter laying by his side, scared and vulnerable. He silently cursed Eric for making her feel like this.

Placing his arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, lips slightly brushing the top of her head.

“It’s gonna be ok, Maisie. I won’t let anything happen to you”.

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Dean didn’t know what woke him up the next morning. But, before even opening his eyes, he felt a warm, soft body against his. His mind filled the blanks in seconds, reminding him of everything that happened the day before, and how he ended up being someone’s big spoon.

Opening his eyes slowly, he didn’t dare to move an inch. His left arm was around Maisie’s waist, fingers laced with hers once more while she held his hand against her stomach. Somehow, both of her legs were trapped between his, slightly bended knees making her perfectly round butt fit to his front, enticingly close to his crotch.

Well, now he was very awake. Every inch of his body was fully awake. He wasn’t exactly used to waking up with a woman in his arms. It happened before, obviously, but he usually didn’t sleep, sleep with them. They would do the deed and he would leave. Or they would. So, yeah, Dean was finding it hard (pun intended) to know what to do to keep that sweet, sweet woman from thinking he was a perv.

He took his time appreciating the sensual curve of Maisie’s neck, her round, soft shoulders, and the dip of her waist, leading to her ample hips.

Behave, man. A voice in his head, that sounded remarkably like Sam’s, scolded him.

A few minutes passed and Dean remained still, listening to Maisie’s deep breaths. And then she started slowly moving, slowly waking up from what he hoped had been a restful sleep.

“Hmm”, she hummed, stretching her body and consequently pushing it closer to Dean’s.

“Morning”, he greeted, holding his breath.

“Morning”, Maisie replied in a cute, sleepy voice. “Sorry for invading your personal space”, she continued, gently trying to untangle from him.

“No need to apologize. I enjoyed it a lot”, he affirmed, smiling when she turned her neck to look at him.

“Me too. Thank you for staying, Dean”, she said, reaching to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Anytime, sweetheart”.

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The first time they kissed was totally unexpected.

They had breakfast together and Sam came to pick Dean up at around 10 AM.

Dean had promised Maisie they would come back to visit her as soon as possible, and made her promise to call and text so he would know she was ok. He also told her he planned to go to the police station and check if the cops really got to Eric.

Maisie walked him to the door when they heard the Impala’s honk.

“Ok, so I made you guys sandwiches for the trip, and some extra coffee”, she handed Dean a paper bag with the food, which he gladly accepted. “I also want to give you something else, as a thank you”.

“You don’t have to thank me, Mais-”, Dean started, but she interrupted by standing on her tiptoes and kissing on the lips, taking him by surprise. He quickly recovered, placing a hand on her cheek, deepening the kiss a little and guiding her into it, sliding his lower lip over hers and lightly sucking it.

When they separated, she was flushed. “Wow. You were the one who was supposed to win the prize, but I guess I was the lucky one”, Maisie smiled, lips tingling.

“I hope this is enough to convince you to let me come back…”, Dean said, scratching his neck.

“I cannot wait for you to come back. Now, let’s go so I can say goodbye to Sam”, she held his hand and guided him through the door in the direction of the Impala, parked on the street.

Dean was already missing her. It was hard for him to explain even to himself, but he wanted to protect Maisie, to keep her safe. At the same time, her fierceness and determination, the way she held her head up high, showing everyone she could kick their asses, Dean’s included, made him want to push her against the nearest wall and have his way with her in a not-so-sweet manner.

One thing Dean was sure of: he wanted more of that. More of her. He didn’t know when he was coming back, but he had every intention to keep his promise. He hoped his crazy life would allow him.

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38 days later

When came back, things didn’t go the way he expected.

“Hey, Sammy”.

“Yeah”.

“So, I texted Maisie yesterday and asked if we could visit her. We’re done with this job and it’s not far from her. She said yes and invited us for lunch. Is that ok with ya?” Dean questioned without taking his eyes off the road.

“Sure”, the younger Winchester replied, proceeding to look at his brother with a smirk. “So you and Maisie have been in touch since you met her, huh?”

Dean glanced at him and shrugged. “Yeah, I mean… I was there when everything with Eric The Douchebag happened, so I kept checking to make sure she’s ok. Is that a problem?”, he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all”, Sam’s smirk got wider. “But if you like her, you can tell me, you know?”, he provoked, knowing Dean would straight away deny having feelings for the girl.

“What? I don’t like her like that!”, was Dean’s immediate answer, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“But why wouldn’t you like her? Is there something wrong with her?”, the younger brother continued, pushing Dean’s buttons and knowing he would end up telling the truth.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with her. She’s- she’s hot, funny, smart. She has great style, and she smells so good, man, and those big-”

“Ok, ok, ok!”, Sam interrupted, immediately regretting making Dean talk. “TMI, man. Let’s just go have lunch with Maisie”.

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3 hours later

When the Impala entered Maisie’s street, the Winchesters saw the police car and the ambulance parked in front of her house. Their hunter senses immediately went on full alert.

“Oh, fuck”, cursed Dean, parking on the other side of the street and taking the fake FBI badge Sam was already handing to him.

They both got out of the car and Dean was the first one to spot Maisie sitting on the back of the ambulance, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders while a paramedic finished assessing a cut on the left side of her forehead.

“You go check on her, I’ll talk to the cops”, said Sam, and Dean nodded, walking in the direction of the injured woman.

“Maisie”, he called while approaching the vehicle, his heart racing from both worry and relief to see she didn’t look seriously hurt.

“Dean!”, she exclaimed, getting up and throwing herself in his arms. Thankfully, that was the exact moment when the paramedic finished placing the dressing on her cut, otherwise she would have knocked the poor man out of the way.

“Sweetheart, what happened?”, he asked, hugging her tight and caressing her hair.

Maisie started crying the minute Dean finished his question.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here now, Sam’s here. I- We won’t let anything happen to you”, he shushed while she sobbed.

Dean took her hand and led her back to sit in the ambulance. Maisie was crying too much to speak anyways, so he looked at the paramedic, the silent question of what had happened evident on his concerned features.

“She was knocked out. Luckily, she was fast enough to dial 911 first, so they were able to get the guy on his way out. She’s gonna be fine. Just make sure she gets some rest and changes the dressing tomorrow, okay?”, the man explained, and Dean nodded and thanked him.

He didn’t need any further explanation to know who the guy who knocked her out was. Eric, for sure. Dean just knew from the way Maisie was acting, with how scared she looked. He felt rage rising inside his chest. He wanted to kill the motherfucker with his own hands. Break his teeth so he would learn how to behave like a decent person…

He kept holding Maisie in his arms and, as she started to calm down, Dean shoved his murderous thoughts down and directed his full attention to her.

“What do you wanna do, sweetheart? Do you wanna wait for the cops to finish with your house and go inside? Or do you wanna go somewhere else?”

“So- somewhere else, Dean, p-please. I don’t wanna go back in there. Not now”, she said between sobs.

Dean felt his heart breaking into a million pieces. If I get my hands on that bastard…

“Ok, let me just go tell Sam we’re going to a motel close to here, is that alright? Then you can shower and get some rest”, he questioned, looking into her brown eyes with gentleness and reassurance.

Maisie nodded and Dean placed a light kiss on her forehead. He walked to the front entrance of the girl’s house, where Sam was talking with two cops.

“Gentlemen”, he greeted. “Agent Perry, can I speak to you for a moment, please?”, he told Sam, using their fake FBI agents’ names.

The brothers walked away from the police officers, and Dean turned around to face Sam.

“I’m taking Maisie outta here, man. She doesn’t wanna stay. We’re going to that motel on the road that’s closer to here, the half-decent one. Did they tell you what the hell happened?”

“Yeah”, Sam let out a deep sigh and shook his head. “Eric broke in early in the morning, Maisie was still sleeping. He was drunk and screaming that they should get back together. She said no and told him to leave, so he started to lock all the doors and windows to stop her from escaping. The idiot was so drunk that he didn’t even realize she had her phone and was already dialing 911-”.

“That’s my girl”, Dean interrupted, proudly.

Sam chuckled. “Well, yeah, she was lucky they were fast, because when he came back to her room, he saw her putting the phone down and knocked her out with a plant vase. She passed out and the cops got him trying to escape on foot, just around the corner. He’s facing assault and breaking and entering charges. Considering he already has a record for DUI, he’s gonna be busy for a while”.

“Good. Good. Okay, so we’re leaving. Will you meet us at the motel once you’re done here?”, Dean asked, knowing Sam would take care of everything so he could be with Maisie.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I’ll see if I can have a little chat with Eric at the police station and tell him to stay the fuck away from Maisie, if he manages to get out of jail anytime soon”, Sam said.

“Thanks, brother. Give him your worst”.

Looking back at Maisie and seeing that the cops were asking her some more questions, Dean took the time to go inside and get her a change of clothes. He didn’t know exactly what she would like to wear, but he grabbed a pair of sweatpants, t-shirts and underwear, putting everything inside a bag.

He noticed the broken vase on the floor of her room, where the cops were working, photographing and cataloging the crime scene. Giving a deep sigh, he did his best to control that rage again. Sam would make sure to let Eric know he better stay away. Now, Dean had to focus on taking care of Maisie. That was the most important task.

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On their way to the motel, they stopped quickly at a diner so Dean could get some burgers for lunch. Maisie kept saying she wasn’t hungry, but he would try to convince her to eat, eventually.

At the motel’s front desk, he asked for two rooms: one with two single beds for him and Sam, and another with just one bed, for Maisie.

“Okay, honey, the two singles I can provide, but the only other room available is with a queen size bed, is that ok?”, the nice old lady at the front desk asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine”, Dean answered.

He paid, got the keys, and went back to the Impala, where Maisie was waiting for him.

“All set, sweetheart. Should we go inside?”, he questioned, leaning down to look through the passenger window.

She nodded and they entered the first room, hers, together.

It was simple but apparently clean, recently renovated even. Dean was glad for it.

“Ok, Mais. I brought you some clothes, I’m gonna leave them here in case you wanna change. What do you wanna do now? Eat? Shower? Sleep? Talk to me?”, he offered, not trying to pressure her, but knowing it was good to push her into moving, doing something, instead of sinking into fear and sadness.

“I’m- I think I’m gonna take a shower first. Would you wait for me here?”, she asked, face bloated and stained with tears.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m only leaving if you tell me to”, he winked at her, making himself comfortable on a chair at the corner of the room.

Ten minutes later, Maisie left the bathroom in an oversized t-shirt that reached the middle of her thighs. Dean couldn’t help but look at her smooth legs.

“Alright, should I leave now, or…?”, he asked, standing up and awkwardly trying to focus on her face and not on the fact that she looked so good wearing so little clothing.

“No”, said Maisie, walking up to Dean and stopping him from leaving by putting a hand on his chest. “I want you to stay with me, Dean”.

He looked at her hand splayed on his chest and then into her face, his heavy breathing revealing his uneasiness.

Maisie looked into his eyes, her own glistening with tears. “Thank you, Dean, again, for being here for me”, she said, sliding her small hand from his chest to his forearm, the delicate touch making him bite his lower lip.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier to stop what happened this morning, I-“

“Hey”, she stopped him again, this time taking her hand to his cheek, enjoying the feeling of his stubble against her soft fingers, “There’s no way you could’ve known what would happen”. To Dean’s surprise, Maisie took a step closer to him, still caressing his face, leaving no space between their bodies. “I need to confess, Dean, that I’ve been thinking about you all the time since we’ve first met”, she tangled her fingers through the hair on the back of Dean’s neck, standing on her tiptoes and giving him a peck on the lips. “I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to be with you”, she continued, her lips a mere inch away from him, her warm breath pumping Dean’s blood right between his legs. “How it would be to have you so close, holding me, with nothing between us”. He felt her hardened nipples through her t-shirt and his, touching his abdomen. “What about you? Have you thought about me?”, she asked.

Once again, Dean’s resolution was hanging by a thread. Maisie was making very clear what she wanted, and Dean was torn between giving in to his own desire, and the small rational part of his brain telling him she was responding to trauma in an unhealthy way. “Every fucking second, sweetheart” he answered, honestly. The shine of lust in her eyes was what broke his attempt of being a better man. He held her face between his hand and leaned down, giving her a kiss that started tame, but then turned messy and full of want when he parted her lips with the tip of his tongue, making her moan into his mouth, responding with the same intensity.

Dean maneuvered them so he could sit on the bed and have her on his lap, legs around his waist. Running a hand over the smooth skin of her thigh, he stopped when his fingers were already under her t-shirt. Maisie pushed her breasts against his chest and sighed, while his lips went from her mouth to her collarbone, nibbling and sucking. She held his head as close as possible, trying everything to prevent him from stopping. Between her legs, she felt him hardening under his jeans, and she pressed herself further onto his lap.

“Fuck, Dean”, she moaned, and it woke him up from his arousal-induced trance.

“Mais. Maisie, we need to stop”, Dean asked, pulling away from her lips and closing his eyes to try to gather some self-control.

“Why?”, she asked, trying to capture his mouth in another kiss.

“‘Cause you’re not thinking straight”, Dean said. God knows how much he wanted to keep going. She smelled so good, she looked fantastic like that, freshly showered, with nothing on but her underwear and that oversized t-shirt. But he cared too much about her to take things further at that moment. She’d just been through a terrible trauma and, as a pro at avoiding feelings and acting like nothing wrong had happened, Dean knew exactly what she was doing.

“I don’t wanna think about anything, Dean”, she tried again, holding his plaid flannel by the collar and pushing it off of his shoulders.

“Ok, you don’t have to”, he insisted, gently taking her hands off of his shirt, getting up and sliding her body down to the bed.

Maisie felt ashamed. She hugged her knees and scooched up to lean against the headboard, embarrassed and humiliated by her behavior. Dean sat back next to her and gently caressed her cheek with his knuckles.

“Hey. It’s not that I don’t want you. You could feel how much I do, right?”, he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a shy smile.

She raised her head to look at him with tears pooling in her eyes, and nodded almost imperceptibly, cheeks flushed.

“I want you so bad, sweetheart. I just don’t want you to regret this. Don’t do this to forget about what happened. Do this for you. Do you get what I’m trying to say?”, Dean asked, his other hand now placed protectively on her knee.

Maisie nodded again. “I’m- I’m sorry, Dean”, she said, and the tears started to run freely down her face.

“No, no, no, you have nothing to be sorry for”. He went closer to her, placing one arm around her shoulders. “Everything is gonna be fine, ok? Don’t worry”, he reassured, kissing the top of her head and pulling her to his chest. Maisie wrapped her arms around him, letting Dean’s warmth heal her wounds.

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It was already dark outside when Sam finally got to the motel. After their talk, Dean convinced Maisie to eat and she finally fell asleep.

Sam knocked on the door and Dean went outside to talk to him, trying to not disturb Maisie’s sleep.

“Hey, took you long enough”, Dean greeted. “How was it?”

Sam took a deep breath. He looked tired. “Well, the idiot wanted to give me an attitude, but I kept the FBI agent cover. I told him Maisie had friends in the Bureau, and if he tried something funny again I would make sure his ass would stay in jail forever. It also helped that I’m much taller than him”, he smirked, making Dean chuckle.

“Thanks, man. He actually deserves life in jail for what he put her through”, Dean stated, looking inside the room through a crack on the door.

“How is she doing?”, Sam asked, pointing to the room with his head.

“She’s… she’s ok, considering. I managed to get her to eat, but she didn’t want to talk about what happened, so I’m giving her some space. She’s asleep now. Here’s the key to the room next door. I’m gonna stay until Maisie wakes up. I don’t want her to find herself alone and think I left or something…”, Dean explained.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna try and sleep a bit too. But call me if you guys need anything, ok?”, Sam assured and Dean agreed, going back inside the room.

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It was almost midnight when Maisie woke up. The first thing she did after opening her eyes was look for Dean. He was sitting in the chair at the corner of the room, soundly asleep. His head was leaning on his left shoulder in a way that would surely make his neck hurt like a son of a bitch later.

Maisie got up and went to him, gently shaking his arm.

“Dean? Wake up”.

“Huh?”, he groaned, immediately opening his eyes and sitting straight.

“Hey, didn’t wanna scare you. You should come to bed”, she said, noticing how cute he looked even groggy with sleep.

The barely-awake state didn’t stop Dean from noticing Maisie told him to come to bed and not to go to bed. But he didn’t want to assume anything.

“Well, Sam’s back, so I’m just gonna join him at the room next door”, he got up and rubbed his sleepy eyes.

Maisie averted his eyes and blushed. “I- I was hoping you would stay…”

“I can also do that”, Dean reassured, smiling at her. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to avoid her. He would definitely feel better staying and knowing he would be close in case she needed him. “I’m gonna make myself a bed next to you and-”

“No”, she held his arm, stopping him from going in the direction of the tiny closet next to the bathroom. “The bed is big enough for both of us”, she blushed deeper.

“Are you sure?”, Dean questioned.

“I’m sure, Dean. I’ll behave, I promise”, she joked, in an attempt to dismiss the lingering embarrassment.

“C’mon, I didn’t mean it like that”, Dean started. “I’m just trying to say you don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine sleeping on the floor”.

“But I’m not”, she shot back. “I’ll be fine if you sleep on the bed”. She would never feel comfortable asking him to stay and then make him sleep on the floor.

“Ok”, he said. “I’m just gonna wash my face and be back in a second then”.

Dean left the bathroom a few minutes later, holding his jeans, plaid shirt and belt on one hand. He was down to his black t-shirt and boxers in the same color. Maisie was already in bed, laying on her side, covers pulled up to her shoulders.

“Is it ok if I sleep in my underwear?”, he asked, leaving his clothes on the chair and walking to the opposite side of the bed.

“Of course”, she answered, trying to sound casual while not at all feeling like that.

Even though they had slept in the same bed at her house the first time they met, it was dark and Dean was under the covers, so she didn’t really have the chance to see him. This time though, she had a full view: strong, thick, slightly bowed legs, firm and round ass, beautiful forearms speckled with freckles, wide shoulders. Maisie felt a tug in her lower belly. If she was attracted to him before, now she was even more sure she wanted to have her way with the fine man that was Dean Winchester.

But Maisie closed her eyes and focused on falling asleep and, ideally, stay away from Dean. Maybe he was right and she did chose the wrong moment to make a move, but the feeling of rejection was still very present.

Feeling the bed dip and the covers move when Dean was laying down, she closed her eyes and was about to wish him a good night, when she felt his arm sneaking around her middle, pulling her closer. She gasped in surprise. They were close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her ear.

“Is that ok?”, Dean whispered. “I kinda like being your big spoon”.

“It’s perfect. Good night, Dean”, she answered, thinking she could get used to being wrapped in him.

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When the pair woke up the next morning, they had changed positions and were facing each other instead of spooning. Maisie’s arms were tucked to her front, against Dean’s chest, while his arm was over her hip.

Maisie was the first to open her eyes. Dean was sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly opened. A lump started to form in her throat when everything that had happened the day before came back to her memory. It seemed like ages ago, but the fear she felt when Eric broke into her house crept inside her, making her stomach drop with the thought of what could have happened if she didn’t act fast enough.

She took a deep breath and focused on Dean’s face. His perfect face. Her heart skipped a beat with the thought of kissing him. She knew she was falling in love with the guy. They literally talked every day since the day they met, and things with him just flowed easily, so uncompromising. The idea of being with someone who would be there for her was all she ever wished for.

When Dean stopped her from taking things further the day before, she understood that it looked like she wanted sex as a coping mechanism, but he was wrong. She really wanted him because of him, not because of Eric. The timing was bad, yeah, but she was sure about what she wanted. She still felt embarrassed though, especially because maybe she got it wrong and Dean didn’t want the same as she did.

As if he could hear her thinking, he started to slowly wake up. He opened his eyes a little and smiled when he saw her watching him.

“Hey”.

“Hey, you”, she replied in a whisper.

“How are you feeling?”, he asked, and Maisie held her breath when his fingers started to lightly caress her hip.

“I’m- I’m gonna be fine, I guess”.

“I know you will”, Dean reassured, and leaned forward to place a feathery kiss on the tip of her nose and a longer one on her lips. He wanted to show her he wasn’t against being intimate with her. God, no. It was actually the exact opposite. He really wanted them to be as intimate as possible. The thought had crossed his mind more times than he could count since they met. But he didn’t want their first time to have anything to do with her ex-boyfriend. He wanted to be more to her than a coping mechanism, and that thought was scaring him to death, because he had probably been a coping mechanism to multiple women. And, if he was being honest, they were his sometimes too. In his defense, he never promised any kind of commitment or long-term relationship to any of them. And that was always fine and fulfilling both for him and for the women, he made sure of that. But, with Maisie, he wanted more than one night. He wanted to keep coming back to her as much as she would allow him to.

She interrupted his thoughts by calling his name.

“What, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry again about yesterday. I’m sorry if I crossed the line and moved too fast,-”, she started babbling, nervously looking anywhere but in his eyes, her anxious thoughts taking the best of her.

“Hey”, Dean placed his hand on her cheek softly. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do. I really wanna be with you, Mais. But I want this to be right for us, for you. I need you to be sure this, us, has nothing to do with-”

It was her turn to stop him. “I understand, Dean. But yesterday was not a response to my trauma. I did what I did because I really, really like you. And, honestly…”, her voice broke, “I just need you to show me that there’s good and kindness in this world, not just loss, and pain, and loneliness-”

Dean didn’t let her finish. He placed his large hands on her cheeks and pulled her face closer, giving her a sensual open-mouthed kiss that took her breath away. Licking and tasting her thoroughly, he draw a throaty moan out of her. Once the kiss was over, Dean’s arm went around her waist, pushing her by the lower back so their bodies would get closer, giving her small pecks on the lips. Maisie’s hand was on his shoulder, and it descended to his bicep and his back, feeling the muscles moving under the freckled skin. She threw a leg over his hip, and Dean couldn’t hold back anymore.

“You sure about this, sweetheart?”,  he asked, plump lips now on the curve of her neck.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Now kiss me again", the girl demanded, rolling on her back and pulling him with her, lips already glued to his. He leaned over her, positioning himself on top and pulling her leg further up around his waist so he could fit between her thighs.

She pushed her hands under his t-shirt, running her fingers over his strong, firm body, while Dean’s lips were on her neck, his hands on her hips, slowly pulling her panties down. Maisie lifted her butt from the bed to help, and Dean threw the panties away without stopping kissing her.

“Take your shirt off, Dean”, she demanded, and he quickly obeyed. Maisie stared at him towering over her, his toned body looking godly under the dim lights of the room. “You’re so handsome”, she praised, stunned by the Winchesters genes.

Dean smirked and blushed shyly, having no time to reply once Maisie pulled him by the hem of his boxers to resume his previous position. The kissing was back on, and Dean pulled her oversized t-shirt off, leaving her fully naked.

Even though Maisie was not insecure about her body, Dean was staring at her so intently, in a way that the other guys in her life never did, as if he was memorizing her. It made her feel a little self-conscious.

"Dean? What’s wrong?", she asked, voice barely there, as if she was afraid of the answer. Maisie faced Eric’s judgement before and did her best to not be affected by it, but she wasn’t ready to hear any snark comments about her appearance at this vulnerable moment.

Dean’s chest was heaving and his eyes were taking in the woman laid down in front of him. Wetting his lower lip with the tip of his tongue and shaking his head lightly, he ran a hand from her waist to her under boob, pupils dilated. “Nothing’s wrong, I was just thinking… that Eric dude is so damn stupid".

“What?”, she furrowed her brows in surprise, not at all expecting him to bring up Eric when they were about to have sex.

"Look at you, Maisie. You look incredible. If you were mine, I would do anything to keep you", he kissed her then, lowering his body over hers until there was no space between them, his naked chest warm against hers.

Maisie’s heart skipped a beat with Dean’s words. Eric was never one to praise her in bed, or in any occasion, if she was being honest. With Dean, it was not only what he was saying, but also the fact that she could see the lust in his green eyes, in the way he was breathing, and from the hardness between his legs pressing against her center, making her wet.

She sneaked a hand between them, reaching for Dean’s boxers, rushing to have no barrier between them. As if he was again reading her thoughts, he guided her hand to the front of his underwear, pressing it against the outline of his hard cock. “You’re making me so hard, sweetheart”, he breathed, eyelids heaving as Maisie pulled the piece of clothing down his thighs, finally revealing his veiny, thick cock, to her sight.

“Can I touch you?”, she asked, placing her palm in his lower belly, feeling his muscles twitch under her touch.

“Yeah”, Dean answered, watching her every move.

She slid her hand down and closed her fist around his lengthy cock, caressing it, feeling it heavy and warm. “Fuck, Dean, you’re hot as fuck”.

He chuckled with the compliment. “Right back atcha, baby. Lemme touch you too”, Dean said, already running his hand on the inside of her thigh, fingers gently probing her center. She lowered her head to watch him use his fingers to spread her lips and gather the slick there, using it to lubricate his cock and make her hand slide easily on the length.

Maisie moaned with his touch, and Dean took it as an incentive to bring his hand back to her pussy and push one finger inside while he kissed her again. They touched each other for a few more minutes, until Dean placed his hand on top of hers, making her stop the up and down movements that were driving him completely insane.

“Mais, I need you to stop”, he asked, pulling back and watching her face, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from his kisses and bites, looking absurdly sexy.

“What’s wrong?”, she questioned, concerned.

“Nothing ‘s wrong, it’s just if you keep doing that I’m not gonna last”, he confessed, crawling over Maisie again, kissing her deeply, using one hand to support his weight and the other to caress her plump breast, rubbing the nipple with his thumb. “I wanna be inside you. Wanna make you cum so hard you’re gonna forget every jackass that didn’t fuck you as good you deserve”, he whispered against her lips, letting go of her breast and running his hand down her body until he reached her center again. He then held his cock and ran it through her lips, not really entering her but coating himself with her slick even more, bumping her clit and making Maisie moan with the feeling. “Do you want that?”, he asked, teasing.

“Yes, yes, please Dean, just fuck me already”, she whined, eager to know how he would feel inside of her.

Dean pushed the tip of his cock in her entrance, feeling her already stretching to accommodate him. He hissed at the feeling of warmth and wetness, her nails digging at his shoulders as he entered her slowly, with in and out movements, inch by inch, taking turns between kissing her and sucking her nipples, as Maisie slid one hand down his back to push his hips, silently asking him to go all the way in.

With him completely sheathed inside her, Maisie was feeling so full and stretched, to the point where she knew it would hurt a little once he started moving. Dean was so thick, she found it hot how much she was struggling to take him. He was making her feel things she wasn't used to and, at this point, she just wanted him to fuck her senseless.

He seemed to have a different idea, though, judging by how his hips were completely still.

"Dean", she called, running one hand through his soft hair, "can- can you move? I need you to move", she pleaded, voice strangled with need.

"In a minute, baby. Just need to get used to you. You have no idea how good you feel", he explained, grunting and moving a few inches out of her, teeth clenched. He could feel her muscles snuggling him so much he was afraid he was gonna come, but the need to drive himself deeper inside of her was too much. He did exactly that, and judging by Maisie’s gasp, she felt as good as he did.

“You feel amazing”, he praised again, pulling out and pushing in harder this time, and Maisie’s moans were increasing according to the force he was putting into fucking her. Each one of Dean’s thrusts made her body move further up on the bed. He was hitting her sweet spot with perfect aim and, as he pushed one of her legs further up, her clit started pressing on his pelvis. She had lost the capacity to form words, turning into a moaning mess, digging her fingers into the meaty part of Dean’s thick shoulders, trying her best to keep her eyes open to watch his beautiful face contort with pleasure every time her walls constricted around his length.

Dean slowed down his movements, wanting to last and drag his and Maisie’s pleasure further. “Is it good, baby girl?”, he asked between ragged breaths, kissing and nibbling her jaw and neck.

“S-so good. So- so f-full”, she managed to say, fingers travelling down to his plump ass, “so deep, Dean”.

“Yeah? I can feel this perfect pussy squeezing so hard around me, sweetheart. Are you about to cum?”, he continued, hand sliding to her mound, pressing down as his thumb found her clit, making Maisie’s hips jump from the bed.

“Oh, yes! Dean, I’m-“

“Come, baby, come for me”. He pinned her hips down and buried himself in her to the hilt as her muscles contracted around his cock. Maisie’s ragged breaths and moans were louder and he couldn’t hold it anymore. She was taking him so well. He came hard and deep inside of her, painting her walls white and making it leak around them both.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, he grunted, the pleasure spreading to his toes as Maisie pulled his head down to kiss him, not an inch of space between their sweat-slicked bodies.

They slowly came back from their highs, bodies still joined, Dean’s head resting between Maisie’s breasts while she caressed the hair on the nape of his neck. After a few minutes, he tilted his head up to look at her. “That was incredible. You’re so perfect”, he said, kissing her, hot and messy mouth exploring hers.

“Stop, Dean. You’re making me blush”, she said, smiling as her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.

“It’s true. And you look beautiful when you blush. But I know something that will make you look even prettier”, he stated, kissing her again and slotting himself back between her thick legs.

She made space for him and felt his cock getting hard against her left inner thigh. Maisie laughed when Dean’s mouth travelled to her neck, sucking the sweet spot behind her ear. It felt good to see the way he reacted to her so promptly, how she aroused him right after they just had the most amazing sex. It felt like they knew each other for way longer than they actually did. “Tell me, Dean”, Maisie encouraged him, wanting to hear more of that deep, sexy voice of his saying dirty things to her.

He answered by straddling her mid, cock standing hard and glistening with their juices. It was a mouth-watering sight, Maisie thought, and she wanted nothing more than to suck him off. She reached out to take him in her small hand, and Dean grunted. “You would look amazing covered in my cum”, he confessed, hips jerking with her touch.

“I think I have a better idea”, she looked up at him from under her lashes, leaning up to give a kitten-lick to the head of his cock. Dean hissed and threw his head back, every inch of his body reacting to Maisie’s caress.

She pushed him back on the bed and knelt between his spread legs, proceeding to hold his cock with one hand and sucking on the tip while watching his every reaction. He felt heavy and hot in her hand, and she took him as far as she could, moaning around him.

“Fuck, Maisie, I’m not gonna last”, Dean warned, his length pulsing on her tongue.

Giving one particular strong suck and slurping their combined juices, she let go of him. “Do you wanna come all over me, Dean?”, asked the woman, sensual eyes watching him panting. She knew the answer, he already said it, but she wanted to hear him say it again.

“Yeah, baby”, he replied, lips parted while he watched her give one more kitten lick to the head of his dick and jerk him off until he exploded, painting her breasts and stomach with his hot cum.

“Wow, Dean”, she exclaimed, collecting some of the liquid from between her breasts and licking her fingers to clean it, tasting the tanginess of his cum.

“That was so fucking hot, Mais. You’re incredible”, he pulled her in for a kissing, tasting her and himself, pushing his tongue into her mouth and making her moan.

Wrapping her body in his embrace, Dean pulled her down to lay on the bed with him, still kissing her and exploring her curves with his hands. Once they stopped to catch their breaths, Dean noticed her eyes getting heavy as he caressed her back. He watched as she fell asleep and pulled a blanket over them, letting himself be carried away with her to a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

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The Winchesters stayed with Maisie for a week. After the police was done collecting evidence from her place, the three of them went back and settled there, trying to help her back to her routine and mostly waiting to know what would happen with Eric. Sam slept in Maisie’s old bedroom while she and Dean shared the other room. That made the younger Winchester smile. He could tell right away that his brother and friend had clicked off, and he hoped they would both get the best out of whatever was going on between them.

In the meantime, Dean was so adamant at making sure Eric would stay in jail and have no chance at ever getting close to Maisie again that, when a hunt surfaced in a city nearby, he sent Sam and asked Bobby for help, deciding to stay with her just in case.

“It’s a quick and easy salt and burn, Sammy, you don’t need me. ‘Sides, Bobby is on his way. Maisie is gonna talk to her lawyer and I wanna be here, in case we need to do something to keep the jackass locked up”, he explained, patting Sam on the shoulder and giving him the Impala’s keys.

Gladly, everything went fine and Eric would wait for trial in jail. Maisie’s lawyer assured her there was no way he was not getting convicted, and Dean only agreed to leave because of that.

“Mais, I’m- Sam and I are one call away. All you have to do is give us a call and we’ll be here or have someone here with you, okay?”, Dean assured, giving Maisie one last hug while Sam was already waiting in the car.

“I know, Dean, thank you. I appreciate everything you guys did for me. Especially you”, she said, smirking devilishly and pulling him down for a kiss. “I cannot wait to see you again”, she whispered in his ear before they split.

Dean’s ears were red but he was grinning. “Me too, sweetheart. I’m gonna text you every day. You text me back, alright?”.

“I will, I promise”, she said, waving goodbye as he walked towards the car.

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As Dean drove down the road, switching the radio on, Sam watched him. Since it didn’t look like his older brother was gonna say anything, he decided to give him a push.

"So, what?", Sam asked.

"What, what?", Dean replied, raising an eyebrow, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"You and Maisie. Was it just a one-time thing?".

"Hell, no. Not if it's up to me. She’s pretty great, Sammy", Dean smiled, mind filled with the memories of their good time together.

"I know that. That's why I'm asking. Don't break her heart, man".

"I won't, man. I promised her I'll come back. I will call and text and check on her too. I will. She knows how our life is, though. She knows I can't be there every day. But I'm gonna be there for her, for the important things at least. She will never have to deal with that dude ever again, if it's up to me. I’m gonna keep her safe", Dean looked at his brother, stern expression telling Sam he meant every word.

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5 years later – after Purgatory

Maisie’s bare feet were starting to hurt from walking up and down the living room. The perspective of seeing Dean after a year was making her too anxious. One year without hearing his voice, except for the voice messages she kept replaying every time the pain of missing him was too much to bear. One year of no texts, no pictures, of not looking into his green eyes. One year of not knowing if he was even alive.

He was back now, but she had no idea in what state, physical and mental, she would find him. That was only increasing her nervousness, but she tried to hold on to the fact that he was alive, and he was gonna be there with her at any moment now. Everything else, they would manage together.

She ran to the door the moment she heard the sound of the Impala’s engine. If it weren’t for Sam’s call giving her a little more detail, the only indication she had was a text message sent from Dean’s old phone: I’m back and on my way to see you, Mais.

Maisie wouldn’t even had believed that the message was actually from Dean, if Sam hadn’t call right after she received it, explaining that Dean was alive. Apparently, the brothers had a fight, and Dean was on his way to see her. She and Sam were not exactly in the best terms at the moment as well – Maisie was not happy with the fact that he didn’t look for Dean, and she had a suspicion that was the reason they fought.

Once she reached the front door, Dean was already halfway up the short staircase leading to the house’s porch. “De-“, she started saying, tears running down her cheeks, but he didn’t let her finish. He skipped the last two steps and pulled her into his arms, embracing her as tight as he could while kissing her almost with bruising force.

“I missed you, Mais, I missed you so fucking much”, he said between kisses. She sobbed and laughed at the same time, heart thumping in her chest. The relief of seeing him again, looking tired but somewhat whole, was everything she had hoped for in the last year.

“I missed you too, Dean. I love you”, she said, knowing it would scare the shit out of him, but not wanting to spend another day with the regret of not having him know the depth of her feelings.

Dean stepped back but kept his arms around her waist. He was clearly shocked, but soon his wide eyes gave way to the wrinkles that framed his face so beautifully every time he smiled. “I- I love you too, Maisie. I didn’t realize how much until I couldn’t be with you”.

She kissed him again, standing on her tiptoes to throw her arms around his neck. Maisie was glad to realize she didn’t forget the smell of him, or the feeling of his short hair on the tip of her fingers, or the way his big hands fit so perfectly on her hips.

Taking his hand in hers, Maisie led Dean inside the house. As if no time had passed, they sat at the table and she offered him the cookies she prepared on the day before, and he ate all of them, just like he always used to do, to her complete joy. After that, they talked for a while, sharing their perspectives about everything that happened during the past year, how she searched for him and even reached to some of the Winchesters’ hunter friends to help once she realized Sam was not doing what she expected him to.

It was a hard conversation for both of them. Dean wanted more than anything to simply forget everything, but he knew that he owed Maisie an explanation. She was utterly shocked when he mentioned Purgatory and everything he went through there, but her resolution to help him heal didn’t change, not even for a second.

The night ended with them making love. Dean got so lost in the comfort of her body, something he craved and wished for so long, that it wasn’t even surprising to him to feel a tear streaming down his face when he was finally inside her. There was nothing he wanted more than to be wrapped in her scent, her softness, to have every curve of her body fitting into his, to feel as comfortable and safe as he always felt with her.

He took her slowly at first, savoring the feeling of being joined with her after so long, of feeling her heartbeat against the hand he kept on her left breast, of watching the goosebumps forming on her skin with every one of his touches.

On the second round, Maisie was sitting on Dean’s lap, legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. One of his hands was placed on her lower back so he could help her ride him, pushing her down and filling her to the hilt with every thrust. Her look was of pure bliss, cheeks flushed with the effort, and it was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen.

"My God, you're stunning. Do you know that? Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you come?", he asked, pushing a strand of hair from her face while they were catching their breaths, sweaty bodies still intertwined.

Maisie looked at him with watery eyes. She couldn’t believe fate brought the two of them together. In the years they knew each other, they both changed so much, and all they’ve been through only made Dean more handsome and perfect in her eyes.

“Thank you. Thank you for being so perfect. Thank you for being mine. I love you”, she replied, kissing Dean again, savoring the feeling of his plump lips and the slight roughness of his stubble against her palms.

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10 years later – Lebanon, Kansas

Dean watches as Lily’s eyelids got heavier and heavier as he finishes the story. When she finally falls asleep, her little hand still holding his thumb tightly, he gently pushes her hair, as dark as her mom’s, out of her face. His movements are delicate, but she opens her big green eyes that look so much like his, and stares at him briefly, before falling asleep again.

He spends a few more minutes watching her, until a movement by the door catches his attention.

Maisie is standing there, in her pajamas, watching him. She smiles when he notices her.

He removes his hand from his daughter’s carefully, stands up from the stuffed chair by her bed, and walks to the door, where his wife waits for him.

“Hey”, Maisie greets in a whisper when he approaches her, extending her hand so Dean can hold it. He does, intertwining their fingers and standing next to her.

“Hey, baby. How long have you been standing there?”, he asks, kissing the top of her head.

“Just for two or three minutes. I arrived when you were telling her about how you fell in love with me from the first time you saw me”, she revealed, looking up at him and blushing.

Dean chuckled. “You got me there. It’s no lie, though. She loves hearing that story. It’s the one she always asks me to tell her. That, and the one where mommy and daddy reunited after he got out of monster land”.

“Monster land?”, Maisie furrowed her eyebrows in a questioning look.

“Yeah, that’s what I call Purgatory to her”, he gave her a cocky smile, obviously proud of his own creativity.

“I hope you spared her of the details”, she said, chuckling at Dean, once again amazed at the fact that their daughter seemed to love horror stories, just like her father.

“‘Course. Our story ain’t no fairytale, but I think it’s pretty awesome. Plus, she has to know how great her mommy is”, he affirmed, charming as always, and Maisie pulled his hand so they both would move away from Lily’s bedroom door. She closed it and led him to their room.

Once inside, the woman turned around and threw her arms around her husband’s neck, kissing him deeply.

“I love you, Dean. I love how amazing you are with our daughter. I would go through everything we went through all over again knowing it would lead us to this. You, me, and Lily”, she declared, eyes watering.

It was his turn to kiss her now, his warm palm against the side of her neck guiding her into the kiss. Maisie was so much shorter than him that, when they stopped for air, he rested his chin on the top of her head. “She’s only 2, but I know she’s growing up to be as fierce and strong as you are. Once she’s old enough, she’s gonna know how her dad went through hell and Purgatory, and how her mom was the reason he came back every time. How you waited for me and welcomed me with open arms, when I was bruised and battered and more fucked up than before. But you put me back together, baby. I love you”, Dean said, holding his love in his arms.

THE END.

Taglist (I'm sorry super this is super outdated! If you want to be removed or included in this taglist, let me know and I'll gladly do it <3): @sexyvixen7; @candy-coated-misery0731; @dean-winchester-lover99; @thoughts-and-funnies; @avanatural; @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior; @eevvvaa; @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes; @djs8891.

[vroomvroommbtch]

When You're Ready - MM x fem!reader

Summary: After twenty years of friendship, they finally admit their feelings in a late night confession they should've made years ago.

Warnings: Fluff, some angst, all the pinning around because friends to lovers.

Words: 11.8k

A/N: God, I feel like I haven't written anything in centuries. I probably haven't written anything for centuries, so please be patient? Please? Especially since it's my first time writing for Mason? Anyway, it's good to be back after hundred years. Here's hoping it won't take another century for me to post something. And I really really hope you enjoy it. Love, Alex.♥️

P.S: To my sweet @a-distantdreamer, thank you for existing and reading literally anything I throw at you. Couldn’t have done this without you.♥️

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They were almost four when they became classmates and neighbors. When her family moved right in front of his house, their parents thought it was wonderful that they had children the same age. Mason was the youngest in the family, and she had no siblings, so it was a perfect fit for them. Their parents also thought they would become good friends, but they never imagined they would be inseparable from the second they knew each other. There was an automatic connection between them, making it very hard to keep them apart without at least a cute pout on their faces.

Her parents found it hilarious that their daughter never cared about sport-related activities, but her playdates with Mason always included balls. The girl who always loved to be home drawing or baking with her mum, suddenly would spend hours playing around in the garden with her best friend. Football was his thing, but she would spend afternoons running and giggling until they were too tired, napping on the couch until it was time to go home.

Their eternal and almost impossible lifetime long romance began during one of those playdates. After having assisted Mason in scoring a goal against an invisible goalkeeper, they ran to each other to celebrate. They were four years old and they had no idea why they did it, but as part of the celebration they shared an innocent tiny little kiss, making them both giggle like crazy. It was their first kiss and it was just a silly thing two tiny kids did, so it meant absolutely nothing.

They started when they were four, but things didn't change when someone asked who their best friend was. As the years passed, they pointed at each other when the question was brought up, not caring if they had other friends. No matter how things changed or how old they were, they were always there for each other. She cheered on Mason with a proud smile at every game he played, her parents taking her knowing how much she loved to support him no matter what. Whenever her parents couldn't attend, she would insist they ask Mason's parents to take her with them. His parents always said yes, totally delighted to have her around. 

They never thought it would happen, but the real beginning of their sad love story wasn’t when they were four, but ten years later. They repeated their first kiss after a morning match one sunny Saturday afternoon in the exact same garden where they had first kissed. They weren't playing football; instead, they were lying on the ground and watching the clouds on an unusually warm day while they waited to be called for dinner. They couldn’t even pinpoint who started the conversation, but they switched from discussing the shape of the clouds and what they looked like to talking about when they were small kids, unable to avoid the part of the story that included their kiss. There was no celebratory excuse for their actions the second time; it was just their hearts doing what they wanted to do for too long.

They never talked about what happened ten years prior, so she thought Mason didn't remember the kiss. She was absolutely shocked to find out he remembered it, his cheeks and nose turning red as they mentioned it. She was surprised to realize he wanted to keep talking about the subject. They were kids, but after so many hours at day together she knew Mason too well to know there was a reason why he decided to mention it. After reaching for Mason's hand over the grass and giving him an encouraging squeeze, he finally admitted it was all because of his teammates talking about girls. At fourteen and being too shy, they were each other's only kiss. At fourteen kids could be cruel and Mason didn't want to share with his mates how his best friend was his only kiss so far. He didn't want to say she was his only crush and the one responsible for the butterflies flying around his stomach, making an absolute mess out of him.

As they lay on the grass, they were so close to each other that there was no way they didn't know what was coming next. She knew it and wanted it, but first she made Mason promise her they would be best friends forever no matter what. They would keep showing up for each other no matter what happened because that's what best friends do. Mason knew pinky promises were always serious matters to her, that's why she understood he was not joking when he locked their small fingers together and assured her they were forever.

As she moved closer to him, she ignored the nerves that invaded her body and checked no one was watching. She made sure neither his parents nor siblings were around and then kissed his lips. It was short, sweet and delicate and she loved every second of it, but she moved away soon enough. Mason kissed her again as she tried to look at his face, letting her know she had made the right decision. There was something even sweeter about the second kiss, and thankfully it wasn't as brief as the first one. If one of his siblings saw them it would have been a nightmare, but even then they held their lips and hands together for a while longer as they enjoyed the feeling.

She had no idea how she found the courage to talk after that. She also had no idea how she managed to do such a thing as kissing him. She might have been his crush since they were babies, but she was crazy for Mason since she could remember. For years she wondered how it would be to kiss him again, but kept her feelings in secret, too scared to ruin their friendship. It was years of drawing hearts with their initials inside, keeping it hidden in the pages of her diary and closing it with a small lock, too scared that anyone would read it and find out.

"If it helps you can tell the boys you kissed three girls instead of just one" she whispered sweetly to him, trying to keep the words a secret, just like their kisses. A thousand years could have passed, but she would never forget his face turning redder than before. She would also never forget how he smiled at her words.

Mason knew she was saying it to make things easier for him, but he didn't want to lie. He didn't want to go around saying he kissed three different girls to look good in front of his mates. He wanted to say he kissed one wonderful girl and how he wanted to keep doing it as long as possible. Mason knew if he was lucky he would keep doing it, which only made him smile even more when he thought about it.

She would lie if she said their kiss in the garden was a one-time thing that ended then and there. Kissing became one of their favorite things to do together. "Practice makes perfection" was their excuse, insisting it was exactly like Mason training every day to be the most talented footballer out there. They knew they should have stopped the first time they were almost caught by her mum one afternoon, but they didn't. They were just teens having fun and experimenting, knowing there was no safer place to do it than their friendship.

Even with their make-out sessions and cuddles they never got to be something. After weeks of pinning around each other the only thing that came out of it was a long list of what ifs. It felt cruel to never get answers to their questions. It felt like an awful joke when Chelsea offered Mason a chance to move to London the day after he had the courage to hold her hand in public for the first time. It was cruel to have her heart broken like that, but she kissed his cheek and told him to go and live his dream. She did it even when all she wanted was to keep holding his hand forever because there was no better feeling that their fingers laced together. 

Mason was her first real heartbreak, but that didn’t change things between them. They had already promised to be best friends forever, and he repeated that promise during their goodbyes in London as she traveled with his parents to take Mason to his new home. Distance and schedules made it complicated, but they were always texting, calling and seeing each other every time he was home or when she traveled with her family to visit him.

It was impossible for them to not make plans for the future, even when they weren't together. Though they loved their hometown, Mason insisted she belonged in a big city. There was nothing wrong with a small town girl's life, but she was not meant to live it. Mason didn't have to say much to convince her to move to London with him after she finished school. He was confident he would make it one day, so it wasn't going to be an issue for them to live there. If things worked out their way they could have a beautiful spacious flat and she wouldn’t have to worry about anything else except reading her books for uni while he played in Chelsea's first team.

No matter how much they planned everything and how badly they wanted it, it felt like the universe laughed in their faces. It all got ruined right in front of their eyes and they couldn't do anything about it. Since Mason moved to the Netherlands, their dream of living together never became a reality. Even when she moved to London for her course, it was not the same. They thought there might be a chance if he moved back to London, but instead he had to transfer to Derby, taking all the chances away from them. 

It definitely felt like a nasty joke when she got her dream job offer in Manchester. She could not say no. Mason was the first to tell her to go for it and accept it because it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but she realized she had made a terrible decision when he moved back to Chelsea and became a first team player. Even though they were seeing their dreams come true, it was heartbreaking to see how the universe decided for them and kept them apart. During lonely nights, she cried too many tears, destined to watch him from afar and only attend some of his matches.

As much as she hated to admit it, Mason seemed like her own curse. He was her best friend but also the one thing she could never have. No really. Not entirely. In some strange way, it was as if she had always been fated to admire him from a distance, too far away for her to try. It's been that way for as long as they can remember, but that didn't mean she didn't hate it. 

Despite leaving all romantic intentions back home when they were kids, she loved being by his side. She was always there for him through thick and thin. She was so proud of Mason for what he was archiving, feeling her heart grow ten times bigger when she saw him playing and scoring goals. 

She loved being there as his friend, but sometimes she couldn’t help but think again about the what ifs. She tried to keep all those thoughts away from her mind because there was no point in wondering about things that never happened, but in the end, she couldn’t help it. She wondered what would happen if she had the courage to tell Mason her feelings. What if they finally found a way to make it work between them. What if she said yes to him every time Mason asked her to not return home and stay with him. 

Whenever she travelled to visit Mason and he asked her to stay, she wished she could do it. There’s nothing she wanted more than to be in his arms and not move for the rest of her life. She wanted to say yes and being the lucky girl having Mason as her boyfriend. She wanted to be the one by his side every single day, but the fear was paralyzing and bigger than all her dreams, making her say she couldn’t stay no matter how much she wished to. She could not bear the thought of losing her best friend, so she let her fears win and stayed on the side, dreaming of what might have been.   

While she hated walking away from him every time, she was happy to be his favorite girl no matter what. For those who knew them, seeing them all over each other and staying close whenever possible never felt strange. Traveling to different cities to see him was nothing out of the ordinary for her, even if it was only for a few hours or even minutes. Trains, cars, planes, and hours of traveling and she never cared if she spent hours alone at his place or wandering streets that ended up being familiar. She really didn’t care, only focusing on the time she was able to spend with Mason after his training sessions or matches. Every single time it was worth it when Mason greeted her at the door with a smile, or when he saw her in the crowd smiling, hoping to score a goal in her honor.

They were something else together. They were late night calls, after-hours texts, and early morning hellos. They were patience, love and understanding. They were their future plans and all the things they wanted to accomplish together. Hands holding hands in crowded places, arms encircling each other without an excuse, heads resting on each other's shoulders. They were long goodbyes and needy hugs. They were the rumors they ignored about their relationship, people seeing them together in a more than friendly way and not believing the story of nothing happening between them. They were their blind adoration for each other and their unspoken agreement not to leave clubs or parties with anyone else because they were supposed to be having fun together.

They both have their reasons for it. She always hoped Mason would somehow realize why she didn’t want to, and Mason insisted he didn’t want to leave with anyone else when she was there because of him. Those places weren’t her thing, but she wouldn’t say no to Mason when he invited her to join him and his friends. Knowing she was there to make him happy was enough for him to only pay attention to her, not really caring about any other girl that would attempt to get his attention. She couldn’t help but admit there was some pride in the situation, smiling proudly at herself because Mason could spend his time with any other woman but decided that he only wanted to stay there with her. He insisted he would never leave her alone in a place surrounded by vultures, but she didn’t care who was there as long as Mason kept his hands and arms protectively around her. 

Physical touch might not have been her love language with people, but it was Mason’s and she had no problem with it. When it came to cuddles it was not unusual to see her sitting on his lap or find Mason sitting between her legs so she would hold him. No matter where they were on vacation with their families or friends, they constantly took naps holding each other. It didn't matter whether it was on a lounge chair or a boat deck, they always took a few minutes to themselves. Every night, Mason sneaked into her room to watch a movie with her before heading to bed because he wanted to spend time with her. After watching something with his family or probably some cartoons with Summer, he wanted to catch up on some TV show they were watching at the same time or some movie he was waiting to enjoy with her. Whatever was on TV was most likely the excuse, knowing Mason would just like to catch up with her after spending the whole day surrounded by people. They waited to talk later at night, even if they talked about unimportant topics, because adults' talks couldn't be had in front of small ears and Summer was always by her uncle's side. 

One of the things that always confused her about them was exactly that. She would never complain about waking up in the same bed as Mason after swearing they were not planning to fall asleep while watching TV, but she had no idea if it meant anything else. She knew they were friends, she knew it was absolutely normal between them to hold each other just because, but the confusion was always there in the back of her head. One thing was their joined hands or his arm around her waist or shoulders to not lose each other in crowded places, but a different thing was his hand constantly on her leg or their fingers laced under tables where nobody could really see it and it wouldn’t keep anyone from trying to flirt with her. His thumb stroking her skin always left her wondering if there could be something else, just like when he decided to hide his face against her neck in their hugs or just without a reason. 

The most terrible part was how her stomach flipped and her heart raced when Mason was near. She never made him move his hands away from her because she loved the feeling. Nothing felt like his breath hitting her neck, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin, or his scruff tickling her. She knew Mason couldn’t like her, not like that. There was obviously something platonic between them and that was the reason for all the hugging and touching, but there was no way Mason had feelings for her. There was nothing fancy or magnificent about her. She had an average body. Her weight and height were average, and her face was normal. She was smart but not brilliant. The only fancy and expensive things in her apartment and wardrobe were the ones Mason gifted her. She was just a girl with a regular life and a 9 to 5 Monday to Friday job. And yes, Mason knew that and couldn't care less about it because she was his friend and he loved her for her and not for her job, but she knew he could have someone better. She hated to think about it, but he deserved someone in the same city, not someone whose destiny didn't laugh in her face. 

Even when she knew how things were when they were dating someone, the stupid crush she had had since forever would appear making her be all smiles as she looked at him. She couldn’t help it. She really wished the feeling would go away, but it was something she couldn’t control. She couldn’t do anything about it, especially when he smiled at her big enough to make his dimples and wrinkles show up, or when he hugged her and made her feel like she was home. What made it worse was when Mason called her Love. When they were kids, Debbie called her that, and Mason adopted it as his friend's second nickname for some reason. Even though it always put a smile on her face, it often brought her trouble. 

That small word was one of the reasons her boyfriend broke up with her. She would lie if she said it was the only reason it happened, but in the end there was plenty. The discussion that ended all started with her phone lightning up and showing a text from Mason that said "You up, Cookie love?" which was normal for her. They always used the cheesiest nicknames, so Mason calling her that or her picking up the phone and calling him Baby was usual. That conversation brought up all the things her boyfriend couldn't understand about her relationship with her best friend. It all began with the drawer that had Mason's clothes in her closet that nobody could touch, the way he could only call her certain names, the way their plans were determined by his games, and ended with how many hours she could spend talking to him and smiling at the screen as if Mason was her boyfriend. 

It became more difficult when he brought up how it looked like Mason lived there with her even when he was in London. Mason's presence was everywhere in her apartment and life. Their pictures as kids were on her bookshelf alongside the ones with her family, as were polaroids of them with Summer displayed on her refrigerator. His things were all over the apartment too; his favorite mug -that she didn't let anyone use or touch- was in the kitchen, his toothbrush was right next to hers, his things were in a corner of the bathroom except his shampoo because he always stole hers. He had a pair of trainers by the door with her shoes, and his favorite blanket was always on the couch perfectly folded for them to use when he visited. His signed England shirt was perfectly framed in the living room. Her favorite hoodie to wear home was a Chelsea one she stole from him, and she wouldn't admit that more than once she took clothes from his drawer to use as PJs when she was alone. She knew Mason was the same with her things in his home. Their places were simply copies of each other. His guest room was basically hers, but her clothes were in his closet. Her skincare routine was in a special place in the main bathroom, her hair products were in the shower and her toothbrush was beside his. Her favorite mug and glass was in his kitchen carefully saved and their photos were displayed all over the place. The things she had were everywhere and he wouldn't hide them. They would never hide each other and it didn't matter if someone didn't like it.

She didn't even argue with him. Yes, she had Mason's stuff there just like she had things her parents left over when they came to visit. She had photos of her family and friends too. But at the end of the day, Mason was Mason. She always spent time on the phone with her best friend, especially as they tried to arrange their schedules to see each other. When she wasn't working and he wasn't training, they talked to see when they could be home visiting family at the same time or when one of them could jump on a train to see each other. If they weren't on the phone, she was probably cancelling or rescheduling her whole life to attend to one of his matches.

After the fight, she told her boyfriend she wasn't planning to cancel her plans to join the Mounts to see Mason in London, so they ended up right there. There were no more arguments or conversations, just a clean cut. As she hugged Mason and told him how proud she was of him while he repeated how happy he was to see her, she forgot about the nasty fight, the terrible accusations, and the disastrous ending of the relationship. 

She would have loved to say that was the only breakup Mason's ghost provoked. She never admitted it to anyone, especially not to her friend, but it happened twice. She cancelled a dinner to be on the phone with Mason the second he called to let her know the club’s plan to get rid of him. All the plans she had with the guy she was seeing were over instantly as she decided to grab her things, take a train and head to London to spend a couple of days with Mason. She knew it was wrong to cancel it last minute, but she didn't give it much thought knowing what was happening.

When she got there she didn't even knock, simply opening the door of his place with her spare key, running to Mason when she saw him on the sofa. Whenever she visited, Mason normally cooked for her. However, this time they didn't dare move, ordering food instead and staying in the living room catching up. As Mason told her what was happening with Chelsea, the new owners and his contract, one question burned in the back of her head. She didn't want to think about the worst case scenario, but she couldn't help it.

"What if you go to a club in another country?" she whispered, ignoring the movie in front of them.

She remembered the pain as she hugged him and waved him goodbye too many times, but especially the day he moved to the Netherlands to play in the Vitesse. She had no idea how she would do that again if that was the case. Regardless of where Mason was moving, she could not watch him leave without asking him to take her with him.

The all-consuming worry built up in her chest, making her mind full of doubts, but she also felt her stomach sink. With her fork in hand, she took only two bites of the pasta in her lap while the bowl grew cold as she stirred it. Her stomach was too knotted to eat anything, but she didn't want Mason to worry about her and remind her to eat, so she took small bites.

Mason moved closer to her, picking up her food and placing it on the coffee table with his plate so that he could wrap his arms around her. “I’ll try to avoid it. But if I can’t, then you’re always welcome to come with me. I’ll could use some company, y’know?"

In her speechlessness, all she could do was nod and snuggle close to her friend, saying "Okay" loudly enough for him to hear. Holding Mason as tightly as possible, she promised herself right there that if he moved, she would say yes. She couldn't care less where, but she wouldn't let him go again.

She couldn't lie and say she slept in the guest room when in reality, she spent the night on his bed. She promised to stay there until Mason was asleep, but while scratching his head she felt first. She woke up at 1 am, totally disoriented, forgetting she was at Mason's. She woke up because even when she was covered in a duvet, she was cold. She looked for her phone on the bedside table and when the screen lit up she could recognize where she was. The framed picture of his family was all she needed to realize she was still in his room. She knew on the other bedside table there was exactly the same frame, but instead it had a photo of the two of them with Summer while they kissed her cheeks.

Her momentary turning and tossing woke Mason up. Even in the dim light she could see his worried and confused sleepy face trying to figure out what was wrong. All she needed to say was a soft "I'm cold" for Mason to open his arms for her to get closer. Her hands, feet and nose were freezing, so in their sleepy state Mason did whatever he could to keep her warm. He didn't hesitate for a second to put her feet against his legs and her hands under his shirt so they could be against his skin. Before she could realize, her face was hiding against his neck, making the cold on her nose dissapear automatically.

She couldn’t admit how that was the closest they had been to kissing again since they were fourteen. She knew it was just a hug to keep her warm, but she could feel his stubble and breathing against her cheek, making it too difficult to drift off to sleep again. Her heart broke when Mason whispered a soft "I miss you" before she felt his breathing change, letting her know he was sleeping. She missed him all the time. She wanted to wake him up, kiss his face and admit how crazy she was about him. She wanted to move her head and place her lips against his, but he was too vulnerable. He was sad, confused, frustrated and still trying to figure out what would happen to his career. The last thing he needed was her confusing him when all he needed was a shoulder to cry on. She wanted to cover him in love, but instead she just stayed there, her hands against his waist and back, stroking his skin with her fingertips, dreaming of what could be.

She'd lie if she said she didn't wake up to Mason snuggling against her chest with his arms wrapped around her body to keep her close. She’d lie if she say she didn’t love the feeling of having him like that, resting peacefully against her as their bodies were tangled. Nobody could hurt him there and that was the most important thing in the world for her.

She didn't move for a while, enjoying those brief silent moments and her last couple hours there, while taking advantage of the extra snuggles from her favorite boy. She took half an hour to enjoy the privilege of being there with Mason, but also to daydream how it would be to spend every night of her life like that. She couldn’t help but smile imagining how wonderful it would be to wake up to exactly that every single day, kissing his forehead as their morning routine.

It was a big effort to sneak away from his arms to get up and make breakfast when she wished to stay in bed with him, surrounded by his warmth forever. She wanted to hold him and promise everything would be alright, even when leaving Chelsea felt like the hardest thing he would have to do.

After that weekend it was difficult to get back to reality, but it was more difficult to leave his side. It felt impossible to break that last hug while Mason promised to do all he could to stay close. It was more painful to leave Mason's side after fifty hours than it was to break up with the guy she had been seeing for three months. There was another unavoidable breakup when she was back in Manchester and she knew it. What she was not expecting was it happening half an hour after she arrived home. It was awful to face him when smelled like Mason. Her whole being and all her things smelled like Mason after running out of her shower gel and using his. She didn’t even have time to shower or change, still wearing one of Mason's hoodies that she took from his closet, promising to give it back next time they saw each other. 

Once again, she didn't argue about it, not making excuses when she heard how her one real relationship was Mason and not the guy who shared the bed with her and took her on dates more than a couple times a week.

"You should stop lying to yourself and admit you're in love with him”. It felt like a punch in the gut to hear those words, but he was right.

Seeing the door close and her apartment take on complete silence, her heart sank a little more. She couldn't keep lying to herself. She couldn't keep distracting herself with men she wished were her best friend, always too scared of mistakenly calling them by his name. She had two options, but it was not a good time for either, at least not until Mason figured out his life first.

The realization came at the worst time, which didn't help. Decisions in sports normally take time and that's something she knew thanks to her friends, but even then she felt powerless. She felt like she should be able to do something. Saying that everything was going to be alright was not good enough. There was nothing she wanted more than to be with him, but it wasn't possible. She didn't have time to travel to London, and then she had days off when Mason wasn't home, making it impossible for them to see each other when she wanted to hug him. It was frustrating, but all she did was listen to her best friend's ramblings, promising to visit as soon as possible.

As she made promises to Mason, rumors about her transfer ate her alive. She never mentioned it to him, but she knew. She had some rules for herself and one of those was not to google Mason. He always said nobody knew him as much as she did, so there was nothing on the internet she needed to know. People and the press often invent ridiculous stories and rumours, and Mason was no exception. She knew better than to ignore it all. Even when some of the rumours and sneaky pictures included her and their alleged secret relationship she ignored them. She didn't even follow football-related Instagram accounts, but she found out anyway.

She didn't want to believe Manchester United was an option for him. He always called her right away when he had good news, and if Mason hadn't mentioned anything to her, it might be a lie. Even if it was rumours it was impossible to wrap her head about the idea. Her apartment was ten minutes away from Old Trafford, and she couldn't imagine Mason being so close.It was too good to be true, and it would crush her heart and soul if it turned out to be false.

The idea that it might happen made her happy but also terrified. For years she was able to put her feelings aside because they were kilometers away from each other. There was no worry about risking or ruining their friendship when they couldn't spend much time together. She could pretend she didn't have the biggest crush on him when they weren't living in the same city. She learned how to keep her feelings to the side when they spent hours or counted days together, reminding herself there must be a reason why life kept putting them apart and in different parts of the country.

Her decision to speak with Mason about her feelings after the Chelsea drama ended suddenly felt like a terrible idea. She was seriously considering doing it, but if Mason were there, it would be completely different. The chemistry between them was obvious and always existed, but she was terrified of Mason not feeling the same way. She could deal with it, but the idea of him having a relationship with a woman right in front of her made her feel sick. It made her cry her heart out until there were no tears left.

She had to act like nothing was happening and it was easy on the phone, but it was a nightmare when Mason asked her to be his plus one at some charity event he had to participate in. It was not unusual for him to ask, taking her or Lewis with him, but it felt like the most terrible moment for him to call. 'No' might have been the right answer, but it would have made Mason wonder if everything was alright between them, and he didn't need another worry. His life was already complicated enough, so rather than making it worse, she made it more complicated for herself.

Acting like nothing was happening was a nightmare while she stayed at his place for two days. She hadn't been there since the last time they snuggled in his bed the whole night. She had no idea what would happen those days around him and it made her wonder why she said yes at all. Her whole trip on the train to London was spent trying to keep calm, but it was difficult to forget how deep she was down the rabbit hole. Mason hugged her longer than usual when she finally arrived, whispering how happy he was to see her and how much he missed her. Five minutes there were enough to make her want to never leave his side again because it was home. He was home no matter what happened and that was never going to change.

She tried to keep herself calm, but it was almost impossible not to blush and smile all the time when Mason was by her side every second of the day. The most complicated part was how it looked like boundaries had disappeared between the two of them. Having spent days together in the sun, there wasn't much they hadn't seen of each other before. Vacations in sunny places and afternoons at beaches and pools included her in a bikini or swimsuit and Mason in his shorts. Mason walking around only wearing his underwear was not weird for her. She normally couldn't blink at it, too used to the sight after a lifetime together, but that afternoon it affected her like never before. Seeing Mason walk into the bathroom wearing nothing but a black, tight piece of clothing made her cheeks turn in a deep shade of red. She was doing her makeup while he walked in looking for his phone, so thankfully she covered it with the foundation she was applying to her face. Feeling his hands stroking her arm or his lips kissing her head as he passed by her side did not help either. His hand resting on her hips as he zipped her dress or when she checked his tie was straight didn't help her case either.

Maybe it was the closeness messing up her head, but she could feel how something had shifted between them. Mason was always close and touchy, but there was something else. She couldn’t help but smile at his words, Mason’s hands carefully placed on her hip as he mentioned how beautiful she looked while they took a couple of photos in from of a full length mirror, joking about having to remember the couple nights they actually got to dress up properly.

He didn't let her hand go as they walked to the car that picked them up and drove them to the event. The whole ride he held her hand tightly, fingers laced together, hands resting against the seat between them, thumb stroking her skin gently. They only acted like normal friends when they arrived at the event. He kept his arm protectively against her lower back or held her arm in his as they walked around the place. It was incredibly difficult to not fall even more for him when he was the perfect gentleman, making jokes to put a smile on her face and making sure she was as comfortable as possible in an environment that wasn't hers. Mason knew she normally felt out of place in those venues, but he didn't leave her side for a second. He was so attentive that it almost felt like they were dating, except for the fact they weren't.

His delightful appearence didn't made it easy for her. He looked like a dream in his suit and freshly trimmed hair. His beard was shorter than she preferred it to be, but she couldn't complain. After two glasses of wine she couldn't help but stare at him in total awe as he talked to someone. She knew it wasn't very polite to do it, but his smile was her favorite sight in the whole world and his laugh was like music to her ears. Mason was all she could think about. Him and how lucky she was to be by his side and how gorgeous he was and how badly she wanted to grab his face and cover his skin with red lipstick until there was nothing left on her lips.

“Do I have something on my face?” Mason whispered in her ear, after the two men talking to him finally left them alone. 

“Not at all. I was just thinking you look alright all dressed up. It's nice to see you wearing something other than a hoodie and joggers. And it's crazy to see you have shoes that ain't made by Nike or made to play football." she shrugged, smiling up at her friend before drinking another sip of her champagne glass. She wasn’t a fan, but they weren’t even done half the night and she needed it. 

“You’re not funny. What do you mean I look ‘Just alright’? And I thought you said I always looked handsome, even when I'm just waking up in my joggers. And I never hear you complain about my clothes when you're stealing them, Cookie." 

“Maybe I was lying? And I take your clothes because you have too much. I'm just helping." She wasn’t lying. Mason with messy hair and comfy clothes was her favorite version of her friend. His sleepy face was without a doubt the prettiest thing she ever saw. The sound of his calm, soft voice was one of the reasons it took her extra time to move. It was those days when it was hard for her to leave, wishing she could just stay together cuddling him. 

“Meanie.” He tried to act offended, but the way his eyes wrinkled said everything she needed to know. “You look beautiful, even if you say I just look alright. Blue suits you.”

The conversation was cut short before she could keep annoying her friend. Another man, identifying himself as a Chelsea fan, stopped Mason for a photo and a chat, leaving her on the side as if she hadn't been talking to her friend. It was the third time in a row that men would shake her hand exclusively because they thought she was Mason's armcandy, then completely ignore her like she knew nothing about football. Mason hated it. She was there because she was his best friend, but he was also convinced she knew more about football than most of the men in the room. Mason insisted she was beautiful, but also the smartest person in the room, making him furious when someone looked at her like she was just a pretty face.

Being the kind man he was, Mason took the time to take a couple of photos with both men, but after some exchange of words he cut off the conversation shortly after it began. While polite and educated as always, he excused himself with a smile, promising to continue chatting later. She knew Mason like the back of her hand, so she knew it was not happening. You could do or say anything about him, but not to her. Acting like she wasn't in the room was the biggest mistake those men could have made.

Taking a moment to escape the crowd, she squeezed his arm as they walked away. It was her silent way to say she was alright, but she could read Mason's face like an open book. "Sorry about that, love," he breathed, ordering one more round of drinks for them as soon as they reached the bar.

"Not your fault, sweetheart" she smiled sweetly, clinking her glass against his as soon as they got their order. "You know, I don't blame them. They're not lucky like me. They don't have Mason Mount available to talk to him and do photo sessions like I do."

"And nobody takes awful photos of me like you do, Cookie."

The smile on her face was interrupted by a yawn she could not control. After years of attending these kinds of events, she was used to them, but her body was exhausted. Her plan to take the train straight after work turned out to be a terrible idea. Since napping on the train was not an option, she stayed up for two hours until she arrived in London. After dinner at his place, she thought she would fall asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, but she couldn't. It was ridiculous how nervous she was to see Mason again. It was even harder knowing he was only a couple of steps away from her in his room. The awful part was that she spent the entire night tossing and turning before falling asleep and waking up before her alarm rang off. Trying to nap in the afternoon was impossible, feeling guilty about sleeping instead of enjoying time with Mason. By the time they got to the event, she had not slept as much as she should have. She was overcaffeinated and exhausted, ready to call it a night even when she couldn't do it. Although those kinds of parties were part of his job, she would rather be home sitting on the sofa with a slice of pizza in hand, wearing her pajamas and watching some silly comedy on TV. After the horrible week she had at work, she needed a drink, but after three hours she needed more to take her shoes and makeup off and switch from a fancy carriage to a pumpkin.

“Half an hour and we’re out" Mason promised, reaching for her free hand to squeeze it for a brief moment. Nobody would ever notice, but she could see how Mason was about to lace their fingers together, suddenly regretting and moving his hand away. The Internet had too many photos of them in doubtful situations creating too many speculations, so there was no need to add another one to the collection.

“You’re grand, Mase. We'll stay as long as you need to. I'll sleep when we get home." 

"Heaven knows I'd rather be on the couch with you, baby. There's no point if I can't cuddle you. Half an hour. I promise."

She insisted there was no need to leave so soon, but with incredible timing Mason excused himself and they said their goodbyes exactly half an hour later, just like he promised. Not long later they were back in the same car that took them to the party in the first place. This time it wasn't just their hands together, but Mason's arm wrapped around her waist. Even with her jacket on she was cold, so he kept her warm until they were back home. It was the mix of his warmth, the car's movement and the dim light that made her fall asleep against his shoulder in no time, her body finally giving up to slumber.

Her nap caused the fifteen-minute ride between the venue and his place to feel like it lasted two minutes instead. Though she wouldn't admit it, she loved waking up to Mason kissing her forehead and stroking her cheek to let her know they were only a couple blocks away. She loved it even more when he kept his arm around her waist as they exited the car, making sure she didn't trip as they walked inside.

She knew it couldn't be the two glasses Mason had that made him unable to keep his arms away from her as if he was glued to her body. He did it even when they were inside and she couldn’t help but smile at it. They left their things at the door and the next moment Mason dragged her to the living room. After she sat down and Mason took off her shoes, she smiled even more when he laid down on the sofa and rested his head on her lap. 

Her three drinks weren't to blame either. She wasn’t drunk and not even tipsy, but her brain was somewhere else as she looked down at him. She would normally scratch his head or hold her hand still in one place on a normal night, but not that night. Trying not to scare him, she reached out slowly to his face, her thumb tracing his cheekbones as carefully as possible. Mason could have done something to tell her to stop, but he didn't. She wasn't surprised when he smirked at her, telling her she could go on. Taking her chance to keep the smile on his handsome face, her fingers moved carefully around as she traced a small path without any particular destination. From his cheekbones to his under eyes, from there to the bridge of his nose to his jaw, and all the way to his eyebrows and forehead to end up again in his nose. It was never admitted to anyone, not even to Mason on a drunken night, but if she had to choose one thing about him, it would be his freckles. Her favorite part was the way they covered his nose and cheeks, making her want to kiss and count them endlessly until she eventually got lost and had to start over. She loved it when he blushed or tanned in the sunlight, making his skin turn the most gorgeous tone, enhancing his features and bringing out his freckles. Since they were children she has been crazy about it, and as she grew older she loved it even more. 

“Keep doing that?” Mason asked in a soft voice, interrupting her thoughts. When he opened his eyes and looked at her for a moment everything else faded away.

Visual memory was always one of her strongest skills. The details she remembered from seeing something for a second were ridiculous. That quality enabled her to hold memories in her head like pictures, especially those involving Mason. There was no doubt in her mind that the image in front of her would be put straight into her collection. In that moment she wished she had her phone nearby so she could take a picture to keep forever. 

It was impossible for her to forget the first moment she saw him. She couldn't forget little Mason wearing an England jersey that was too big for him. No matter what she did, she couldn't erase the memory of his smile as he waved hello to her right after their parents first met. Despite being twenty years older, Mason somehow still resembled that boy. She had no idea when it happened, but suddenly the cute kid grew up and became a handsome young man, but lately he looked different. Even though he looked like a man, the boy who taught her how to kick the ball was still there in his face. She still felt the same way about those sweet eyes and smile that melted her as a child.

Although she wanted to kiss him and tell him how much she loved him, everything was upside down, and she couldn't. As usual, she settled for the second best thing since she couldn't have what she really wanted. The only thing she did was touch his bottom lip with her thumb instead of her lips. Despite being the smallest of touches, it made Mason move, so she automatically put her hand away. Although she thought she had done something wrong, he kept her hand right there before she went too far.

There was nothing unusual about it. Mason kissed her hand for comfort whenever she was nervous and it wasn't strange to see him do it, but this time it wasn't just one kiss. He took the time to kiss every knuckle, the back of her hand, the palm, and finally her wrist tattoo, staying against the tinted skin for longer than usual. A small 19 written by him sat proudly on her wrist, a testament to the drunken promise she made one night. The tattoo made Mason smile every time he saw it, insisting she would never do it for anyone else but him.

Although the kisses in her hand weren't strange, when Mason placed their joined hands over his heart inside his shirt, the air completely changed. He undid a few buttons on his shirt and got rid of his tie as soon as he took off his jacket, leaving enough space for their hands under the white material. Feeling his skin and heartbeat like that was the last thing she needed. The fact that Mason wasn't talking to her or looking at her also didn't help her. Being unable to read his eyes was eating at her, but she was too afraid to disturb the calmness in the room by asking what was going on. All she could do was look at his beautiful face, feel the warmth of his skin and scratch his head with her free hand.

She knew what was happening shouldn't happen. She couldn't help it. The couple of glasses of champagne and wine caused her sanity to fly out the window. As the irrational part of her brain took over, she began to crave him. While she felt like her skin burned against his, there was a voice in her head telling her not to.

She didn’t want to lose him. She couldn’t lose him. Mason was not only her best friend but her favorite person in the world. He was her rock, her lifeline, her guiding light and her lighthouse - all in one cute boy with freckles. He was the person she trusted more than anyone in the world. He was the one person she couldn’t live without. Mason was her soulmate and the love of her life even when they weren't together. Apart from her parents, Mason was her only constant for twenty years. Losing him was never an option, even if it broke her heart and allowed her a front-row seat to witness him having a happy life with someone else. 

In the midst of her internal fight, there was a third part of her thinking that everything they did had to mean something. The touches, the looks, the cuddles, the kisses years ago, the things Mason would say to her and about her. His sweet 'Oi, you’re my girl!' was always there, even if it was joking when a friend tried to take her away from him. Mason always said she was his favorite and number one girl and she truly believed in him, even when he dated someone else. She was the only one he called Love, and the way he hugged her practically melting into her couldn't be for nothing. 

All she wanted was to be by his side while he slept peacefully. She wanted to keep holding him and scratching his head, even if just for cuddles. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, but she knew it wasn't a good night, so she decided to take a deep breath and ignore her heart beating and the way her feelings made it feel heavier.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, my Sleeping Beauty” she whispered, tapping gently on his forehead.

“I’m not. I’m just resting my eyes like you in the car. And if I’m the Sleepy Beauty aren’t you supposed to wake me up with a kiss?" By the little smirk on his face she knew he was teasing her. It seemed like another of his funny comments, but the way it affected her was impossible to describe. If she confessed to him that she wanted to kiss him to wake him up, things would be very different. 

“So I’m the prince here? That’s crazy considering you’re the one with the wonderful prince hair” she smiled, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she ran her fingers through his hair the way she knew he liked it. As much as she hated to admit it, after so many years together, she knew Mason well enough to have him purring in her hands in no time. 

“For you I’ll be whatever you want, love.” 

When Mason finally opened his eyes again, the air completely left her lungs. It was something else to hear his words and see the way he looked at her. Nothing really felt right to say, so it took her a while to organize her thoughts. Since she didn't feel like answering him the way she wanted, she just smiled down at him, pretending it didn't affect her like it really did. “Cmon Prince Charming, you need to go to bed, and I need to take my makeup off. You'll be much more comfortable in bed all tucked in” she reassured him, patting his chest lightly while keeping her hand underneath his shirt. 

“But I’m comfy”. It was not the pout on her face that destroyed her, but the way he only let go of her hand to turn around and hug her waist. "And I don't wanna let you go."

"It's just ten minutes. I promise. Do you want me to stay with you till you fall asleep?"

It took them another five minutes to move after he nodded to answer her question. Mason took care of closing the house and turning the lights out promising to be upstairs in no time as she headed straight to the bathroom to take her makeup off as she said she would. She was sure Mason would at least have changed his clothes by the time she started wiping it all off her face, but to her surprise he came into the bathroom wearing exactly the same clothes as before. Rather than saying anything, he hugged her back while tightly wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his face in her neck. 

“What are you doing here, Masey?” she asked, unconsciously resting her back against his chest. He looked like a dream when they were at the party, but the sight behind her was something else entirely. In the mirror reflection, she observed his arm muscles flexing under the white material of his shirt. He was not the biggest or bulkiest man out there, but he looked perfectly carved like a statue. Even though she loved every single part of him, his body always had her in awe. Seeing him against her made her want to run her fingers down every single inch of his skin or melt against him. The way he smelled only made it more difficult, wanting to hide her face in his neck the way he was doing with her. If it was a way to prove her strength, it was an extremely difficult test, because she had no idea how she was doing it. 

“Waiting for you," he shrugged. What took her by surprise wasn’t the way he answered, but the way he placed a tender kiss on her shoulder, too close to her neck. As the material of her dress didn't cover her skin in that area, he took advantage of it by leaving his face there. “You smell lovely" he murmured and another kiss followed, making her shiver and raising goosebumps everywhere. 

“You got me this perfume, silly” she giggled, feeling him smiling against her neck before he placed a third kiss there. In that instant her plans of putting some night cream on her face flew out of the window, too focused on keeping it together and biting her tongue to not let a soft moan escape her lips. 

“I got a good taste.”

“Sometimes. And depending on what.” She couldn’t help but smile again, but it had nothing to do with her cocky answer. His hands around her waist weren't moving. His fingers drawn lines and circles that tickled her even when there was a layer between his skin and hers. It was awful and wonderful how he knew how to play his cards with her and move her strings, putting a smile on her face so easily it was embarrassing. "Get into bed, darling. One minute and I’m done. There’s nothing to see here. I’m not dolled up anymore, just little old me. Its not charming so go ahead.” 

“You’re always charming and beautiful. No need to put anything on your face to look stunning." Mason affirmed, her cheeks turning red in an instant.

She really thought Mason wasn’t tipsy, but suddenly she couldn’t help but think maybe he was. She didn't think she looked beautiful, especially not then. She threw her hair into a messy bun so that it would stay out of her face while she did her skin care. There was no longer a fancy hairstyle. Not perfectly makeup-ed, her face had gone back to its natural state. The only thing left of her dressed-up version was the dark blue dress she was wearing, but it was about to disappear to be replaced by one of his shirts. It was hard for her to believe that she was beautiful, but if he said otherwise, perhaps she would believe it. Like normal friends do, they always compliment each other, but this was different. She Mason kissing her neck and saying she was beautiful was something else and she couldn’t deny the effect it had on her body. 

“Now he’s saying nonsense. C’mon, bed” she insisted, turning around in his arms. She tried to put a serious face so Mason would pay attention and do as she said, but it was useless. Looking down at her, he did not move, making her legs weaker.

 “Can I get a kiss first?” Mason asked, leaving her speechless. She could feel the tension in the air of the small space, but he left her out of words. She never expected that question. He didn’t ask when they were kids, he didn't ask when they were teens, so it was new. It was different and she had no idea what to do. There was nothing she wanted more than to kiss him again, but the fear of ruining everything between them paralyzed her. They weren’t kids anymore. She couldn’t ruin their friendship with a kiss when there was so much at risk. The only option left to her was to place her hands on his jaw and chest, stand on tiptoes, and kiss his cheek. She was dying to kiss his entire face, but she could only allow herself to do that. “I meant a real kiss, Cookie.”

“That was a real kiss. It wasn’t imaginary. It's not like I'm a unicorn or something like that".

She realized how serious everything was when the joke didn't work. She had the superpower of making Mason smile despite the tough times. He always laughed at her jokes even when they were terrible, but not this time. It made her tongue-tied to see Mason looking down at her as if she had hung the whole sky for him. It didn't help her nerves that he brushed his nose against hers. That was Mason, he was her Mason, but he still made her nervous. Even when she didn't think she had a chance with him, he always made her feel that way.  

“You know what I mean, love. I know it hasn't been ten years since the last time, but I don't care."

“We shouldn't."

“Why not?”

“Cause we shouldn’t”. It was impossible for her to give a convincing answer to his question, or even a real reason for it. She didn't know what to say. Her mind was totally blank, fully focused on the sensation of his lips against her face, moving from her forehead to her temple, and then traveling to her cheek. While he kissed her cheek again, she moved her hands down to grab his waist, not wanting him to walk away from her.

“Want me to stop?” He asked right beside her ear, sending shivers down her back again. There was no way Mason wouldn't notice the goosebumps all over her skin. It was impossible for him not to notice how completely in his hands and at his mercy she was.

“No”. She shouldn’t have said those words because she knew where they would lead. She knew she shouldn’t, but she didn’t regret it, especially not when she could feel his smile against her skin. When his lips got back to work, he kissed her jaw again, then jumped onto her shoulder, slowly moving onto her neck. "You're making it very complicated for me when we know I need to leave tomorrow, darling.” 

In one swift movement, Mason lifted her up and sat her down beside the sink, standing between her legs. One movement, no words, and he was back to kissing her, each kiss more delicate than the last, but all of them making her skin feel like she was on fire.

“Then don’t leave, angel. We can stay here together."

He made it seem so simple that she almost believed she could do it. It made her feel like she could put her life behind her, forget about everything else, and just stay in his arms forever. He said it in a way that almost made her say yes, but as grownups with lives and responsibilities, the bubble needed to be broken at some point. 

“I have work, Masey. I have things to do. I have to get back.”

"That's not fair. I don’t want you to go.” It was like something in the air shifted again. He suddenly stopped moving around her neck and stayed still, his lips ghosting over her skin as he spoke. Her hands left his chest and moved around his body, pulling him into a hug that put all her pieces together. “I’m gonna miss you and I hate missing you. I hate not seeing you every day because you’re three hours away. I hate that we’re always seeing the wrong people when we should be like this all the time. It’s not fair when I know it should be me calling you Love cause you’re my love. It should be me, Cookie. I always wanted it to be you and me.” 

When she heard Mason’s words she knew she had two options. She could pretend she didn’t understand what he was really saying to protect their friendship and stay in an eternal friend zone, or she could just face it. She could put all her fears and the panic of losing Mason in the back of her mind and try to comprehend that it was possible he had feelings for her too. Perhaps they were just two idiots who never got over their crush on each other. Maybe Mason was as scared as she was and all they really needed was to be there holding each other to stop overthinking and being honest. Maybe what they needed was to stop thinking with their heads and think with their hearts instead. 

“It’s always you, my sweet boy with freckles,” she whispered softly, her fingers running through his hair. She could barely breathe from the nerves, but it was a now-or-never situation. She really needed to face it once and for all. “It’ll always be you. It should be us, but time is always a problem. Somehow we can never get it right and it sucks and I miss you all the time too.” 

“What if we can make it right?” Mason asked, moving away from her neck to rest his forehead against hers. They were both too scared to open their eyes and look at each other, so they just stayed there, noses touching as they breathed the same air. “It’s us, so we can, right? I know we can, angel. I don’t care if the time is never right. We can make it work somehow. We’re not kids anymore, so we can find a way. Why can't we be together if we want each other?” 

“Cause we’re best friends, Mase," she whispered, holding his cheeks in her hands. It sounded like the most obvious answer, but it also felt ridiculous. It felt silly when Mason was right. They weren't kids living in different countries anymore. They were adults and it would take time, effort, and patience, but it would be worth it. They could make it worth it. "We can make it work but I can’t lose you after twenty years together. I can lose anything or anyone, but not you, darling. Not you.” 

“You can still be my best friend while also being my girlfriend. My girlfriend or my fiancé. Or my wife. Or my kids’ mum. Whatever you want."

She had to take a deep breath as she heard his words, biting her lips to not smile at them. The idea of having all that with Mason made her want to smile ear-to-ear. Thinking about it brought so much happiness to her heart, but she couldn’t let it all take over her heart. Not yet. Not when it could all crash and end in heartbreak.

“Don’t do that."

“Do what?” 

“Give me hope, Mase. Don’t say all those things. Please don’t give me hope." 

"Look at me, baby.” She couldn't say no to his words, but when she looked at him she wished she hadn't paid attention to them. She always had a terrible weakness for Mason, but nothing affected her as much as his eyes. It was the gorgeous brown color and the warmth they had that made her want to stare at them forever. The way they always lit up for her made her weak. Every time the wrinkles around his eyes appeared as he smiled, she wished she could kiss him. She wished she could do something to make him keep that happy expression on his face forever. It didn't help that he looked at her like she was the most amazing person in the world. She knew it was pure adoration like she felt for him. It was impossible for her to keep running away, not when Mason was telling her that he wanted her. "I can stop right now, we forget about it and pretend we don’t want each other since we were kids. Or we can kiss and talk in the morning so we can finally stop pretending there’s nothing here when we know we like each other. It’s up to you, love.” 

“Promise that whatever happens tonight I am not losing you. Tell me that’s never going to happen no matter what" she begged him. In twenty years she never thought she would have to admit her biggest fear and say it out loud, but it was her time to do it.

While it wasn't her first kiss and it wasn't even her first kiss with Mason, the nerves made it seem like it was. The gap between them was not big, but Mason gave her a chance to change her mind and back up. Since she didn't move, he only needed one glance to answer the silent question hanging between them and place his lips on hers.

The butterflies were still there almost ten years later, making a mess of her and making it impossible for her to not smile. There was something familiar about it, but it was better than all those years ago back home. The biggest difference was the lack of innocence between them. Immediately, the tentative kiss turned into something hungrier as her tongue asked for permission and was granted without hesitation. Although she wasn't thinking straight when she licked his lower lip, she didn't complain as their tongues found each other and moved together. She knew it wouldn't be just one kiss. In silent plea, she moved her hands to his neck and hair, gently tugging and silently begging him not to move. Seeing his response to her melted her heart and encouraged her to keep going. Their kisses brought them closer together until there was no more space between them. His hands slowly moved from her waist to her legs, allowing him to rest them on her thighs as he slowly lifted her dress' hem, tracing his fingers over her soft skin. She kept her mouth shut instead of begging him to mess with her, letting her actions speak for themselves as she bit his lip, indicating how she wanted things to go forward. 

"God, it took you long enough, Mount. It's bad manners to leave someone waiting for so long” she smiled, trying to get used to the feeling of her hands over his body in such an intimate way.

“Sorry, Cookie. Swear it won’t happen again" Mason grinned back at her, before getting back to her lips for another kiss.  

There are certain things she could never forget even if she tried. Twenty years of friendship she would never take for granted or erase from her memory. Even though she enjoyed every minute of those days, as she unbuttoned Mason's shirt to remove it, and he stretched her legs out further, she couldn't wait to spend another twenty years beside him, only this time she got to be the lucky girl who got to hold his hand and call him Love.

[avifaunaa]

how the world spins without you [ n.r. ] [ p.2 ]

AUTHORS NOTE: the amount of likes i got on chapter one blew my mind. i'm glad you guys enjoy it enough to have liked / reblogged! i'm still considerably new to writing on tumblr so i'm really happy with what i've been getting thus far! i hope you like this second part!

Masterlist

PART ONE

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has mastered the art of falling in love . . . she thinks. Having graduated with a shiny new degree and on your way to work with Tony in his labs, she was closer to you than ever. When an important mission pulls her away it leaves you both realizing how incredibly important it is that you don't skip the little moments you get.

Content Warnings: Mild angst, fluff, overabundance of Natasha being soft, reader referred to with she/her pronouns, smut, top!nat and bottom!reader, fingering [ n and r receiving ], MILD dumbification, MILD dedragation [ r receiving ] strap-on use [ r!receiving ], praise [ r!receiving ], hair-pulling, some finger-sucking

Word Count: ~7.7k

Natasha thinks you like Yelena.

That was her hope, anyway, when she asked her little sister to come finally meet the woman who had caught her eye and managed to peel her open and get even her most buried away memories and desires to be expressed in just a few short months.

It was a few days before you big day as Yelena sat across from Nat, sprawled across an armchair like an unruly child with legs spread open and propped over the legs. She chose where so sit this time despite Nat glancing longingly at her table.

She sat on the couch in front of the fireplace diagonal to her sister's armchair instead. She drank something strawberry-flavored today, a seasonal drink to draw in customers despite the business that the shop never seemed to lose.

She thinks you'd like it -- she hated it.

"So, you drag me here," the braided blonde begins, licking whipped cream off of her cold drink. Then proceeds to stick her finger inside to get more.

"Yelena that's disgusting."

"Who else is drinking this? Huh?" A perfectly arched eyebrow raised at her. "Is there a law against being disgusting? Pah." She popped her fingers in her mouth. "You are rude for interrupting me."

Natasha's eyes float up to the ceiling. Would Melina mind all that much if she killed Yelena?

She believes Alexi would be proud of her.

"As I was saying," the former Widow continued when Natasha did not speak, taking her silence as encouragement, "you drag me here and give me fattening sugary American drinks."

"I figured you'd like it," Natasha said, drink abandoned as she rests her hand on the armchair of the couch. "You eat nothing but Kraft. I try to get you other brands and you threaten to shoot me."

"Because the other brands are cardboard covered in plastic cheese!" Yelena threw her arms up, coffee still in hand, and uncrossed her legs to sit up rightly. "Nat I will never forgive you for trying to trick me into these poor excuses of mac-n-cheese. Truly. I know the difference. I am an assassin."

"Of store bought goods?"

Yelena scowled at her and used her straw to flick whipped cream in Nat's direction. The glob landed sadly on the couch cushion instead of where Yelena likely aimed: her forehead.

"Damn," the younger of the two whispered, stabbing her straw back into place.

"Clean that up," Natasha ordered, gesturing to the napkins left out for patrons on the coffee table.

"Yes mom," Yelena grumbles, but did it anyway and sniffed after a minute of sipping her drink like a scolded toddler. "You were right. This is a very delicious drink."

"How hard was it for you to admit that?"

"Very. But we have gotten off the topic of why you dragged me here and I know it is not just for this as much as I wish it was."

Natasha had to hand it to Yelena for her observance. The two of them were the Red Room's most prized creations of differing generations of Widows but both had been given the same end goal and similar orders at the end of the day.

Her sister was impulsive and quick to jump the gun -- but it normally worked in her favor and could be better in certain situations where Natasha's tendency to react more strategically may be too slow for some situations.

She tapped her index fingers together. "I am seeing someone. Someone who is important to me and I think I could find happiness with her if I continue to undo everything our upbringing has taught us."

Whatever Yelena had been expecting her to announce, it sure as hell wasn't that. The blonde adverted her eyes momentarily either in bafflement or incredulity before masking herself up with a sly smirk.

"Her?" Yelena purred, placing her cup on the side table separating them. "You've really been discovering yourself, haven't you, Sestra?"

"Suka," Natasha shot back, feeling the weight begin to lift off of her chest. She was worried for Yelena's response -- she didn't know if she expected disgust, anger, maybe doubt?

"We are not built for the type of relationships she might seek from you," Yelena finally says, her accent thickening with concern as she struggled not to regress into Russian to speak to Nat. "What have you told her . . . about everything?"

Natasha cupped her own chin with her hand and rested her elbow on the armrest. "Very little, but enough to paint her a picture that tells her it was an evil childhood. I am sure she did some searches on me and read whatever she found and if she did it did not seem to scare her off."

"You could hurt her."

A thorn struck at Natasha's heart. Yelena was truthful in all accounts, and she expected no lies or sugar-coated warnings from her and never would have in the first place. But it still hurt to hear Yelena have expressed what Natasha feared.

"I know," was all she replied, gaze turning to the weak fire in the fireplace.

"Or she could . . . hurt you very badly."

"That's always been a possibility, yes."

Yelena was silent for a moment. The two of them watched the fire as it crackled and attempted to keep itself alive with so little to work on.

"You like her very much," Yelena said -- not asked.

"I do," Natasha admitted and found her throat dry when she swallowed back everything she wanted to say.

Yelena nodded a couple of times, soaking in the words and reading the tone seeped within them. Then, "I will have to kill her very slowly if she makes you cry."

Natasha sniffled, watery eyes turning to her as a laugh broke from her chest.

Natasha watched you walk off the stage and she would not cry. But Gods — the pride she felt as she saw you stride with confidence was absolutely everything and more to her.

Kate had reached out to her and invited her to attend around the same time you had. Natasha had decided to surprise you and made up a quick lie by telling you she would be on a mission.

You were saddened but when she almost broke and ruined her and Kate’s plan, you and promised her that it was okay: everything else after would make up for it.

And now you were crying in her arms as her fingers ran through your silky hair, done beautifully for your day. Your introduction to Yelena was hilarious to her but that was something to look back on later.

Now the four of you sat in Kate’s hotel room. You were curled up tightly against Natasha freshly showered and dressed in one of her hoodies. Yelena and Kate were arguing about what movie to watch and Natasha had to intervene when Yelena pulled out her gun and slammed it on the table in the corner.

“I think I have the final say. We watch Brother Bear,” Yelena said, palm splayed on top of the weapon like it was nothing more than a trading card.

Kate stared at the gun, then at Yelena, then yelled, “Why the fuck are you carrying around a gun like a crazed woman? Like seriously? What the fuck?”

“You’re welcome if someone attacks us and I so happen to have the gun,” the blonde snarked back, nose wrinkling with frustration.

Kate threw her hands in the air then turned to you. “Dude — she just — did you see that?”

You blinked sleepily and were jerked out of Natasha’s warm embrace as the redhead suddenly got up and grabbed Yelena by the scruff. “Ow! Suka! What do you think you are doing?” She yowled as Natasha drags her over to the second bed.

Natasha flings the flailing woman down and crosses her arms. You sit upright and glare at Kate, who went from smirking to abashed at your gaze on her.

“Both of you are being childish,” Natasha said, striding back to the table and snatching the gun. She unloads it and packs the bullets and gun away in her bag. “Yelena that was first year shit you did, pulling your gun out and flashing it.”

Yelena flushed red and crossed her arms, pouting on the bed. “I do not like Finding Nemo. It is sad but not the good kind of sad.”

“Brother Bear is sadder!” Kate exclaims as she walks over and flops face first down next to Yelena.

“But there is vicious bears in it. That makes it fun again. Finding Nemo is just said.”

Natasha retakes her spot next to you, slinging an arm around you and pulling you in tight. “Well tough luck. I think we’re going to go with Spirited Away instead.”

You perked up at the suggestion as Nat worked on logging into the streaming service that offered the movie.

“What is that?” Yelena asked, scooting upward by the pillows and flinging her legs downward so that they landed hard on Kate’s back.

The brunette yelped out, shoving Yelena’s legs and sitting upright with an icy glare.

“Only the best movie ever,” you whispered as you stared up at Natasha covetedly in adoration.

Yelena kept demanding the movie be paused so she could ask questions about it. Anytime Natasha tried to answer, the blonde shushed her and waited for you to explain instead.

You explained patiently for her until the younger Russian was pleased and allowed the movie to continue.

Eventually you all — sans Natasha — fell asleep.

You got breakfast together at one your favorite places in town near campus and by then you and Yelena had developed a closer bond. She asked more about Spirited Away and if it had a sequel.

“I wish,” you groaned, flopping back in the booth dramatically as Kate patted your knee next to you. “The studio that made it though . . . It makes really good movies besides that one. I should show all of them to you.”

“Oh now you’ve done it,” Kate chirped and dug into her breakfast burrito without explaining further.

Yelena waves her off like a gnat. “I’d love to watch these movies with you if it means Kate Bishop will suffer.”

Kate’s head jerked up so quick, indignant and puffy in the chest. “First of all,” she said, echoing you from yesterday as she pointed a tater tot at the offender across from her, “I need you to go jump off a building immediately.”

“Did that. Hated it,” she shot back quickly in a bored tone despite the mischief that gleamed on her features. “What is your second of all.”

“Second of all,” Kate continued, then stopped. She blinked as Yelena’s shit-eating grin grew slowly, “Fuck you.”

Yelena gasped. “Kate Bishop how could you — why —“ she went on acting as if she were taken aback beyond fixing.

You and Natasha found each other’s eyes over your meals and you noticed the look in her eyes mirrored how engorged your heart felt in this moment.

Natasha was true to her word. You got an interview offer from Stark Industries — sent and signed by Tony Stark himself. It was about three weeks after your graduation and move back to New York which was entirely unexpected so soon.

It was early and you had slipped out of the warmth that Natasha exuded like a space heater. Dawn was making an entrance into your bedroom and you turned to look at your sleeping girlfriend through hooded eyes.

She looked so peaceful as she slept — and it was her time sleeping over at that. Her hesitance to do so had led to a necessary conversation as you tried to avoid pushing her too hard.

“I get night terrors sometimes,” she told you as she sat across from you on the bed and you leaned against the wall. “And not just . . . Not ones you see when you look up the signs on the Internet. Mine can be violent.”

You noticed how low her body was haunched as she made her confession to you, hands rubbing against each other and eyes avoiding yours.

“Nat.” Her gaze flicks to you as you push off the wall and get to your knees in front of her. “Do you think you could hurt me? Are they that often?”

She curled a strand of your hair around her finger. She treated you so delicately at times and it pissed you off to no end that there was a reason for it and you couldn’t fix it.

“They’re not often,” she comments while basking in your comfort offered to her. Being with you had made her realize that her touch-aversion was some form of touch-starvation if the person was right. She always seemed to be in contact with you if she could help it.

“Okay,” you finalized, standing up and resting a hand on her cheek. “Then why are you worried? If you have a terror while we’re together — we can make a plan so I can handle it properly. Or we learn as we go.” She then swallowed. “But if you . . . If you’re not comfortable . . .”

“I do,” she promised, leaning into your palm. “I’m just very worried. Hurting you is not something I could ever let myself live with.”

You ran a thumb down her cheekbone. “Then let’s try together. Slowly. Until you feel like that fear is no longer something realistic.”

She stayed over that night and has done so increasingly since. She hadn’t had a mission since before your graduation and she told you to expect her to be pulled at any second.

You took what you could get with Nat — time was precious and she gave you so much of herself.

A chill ran up your spine when the warmth of your bed and Nat’s hold escaped you; you quickly went to your closet to grab your thick and too-large robe and slip it on along with your sandals.

You kissed Natasha’s temple as you grabbed your apartment and mail key and headed out downstairs to where the front desk was already in to retrieve mail forgotten from this week.

You start flipping through it on your way up, pushing the button to your floor and inserting the key to allow it through.

It was mostly junk mail, a couple of offers for interviews at tech companies, and some reminders about returning her dorm keys. You already did.

The elevator dings open for you on your floor and you do not even look up as you continue flipping through. How much mail do you forget to grab?

You listen for the elevator doors to shut behind you and stopped halfway in your tracks when you flipped one of your bills to discover the white envelope with the large STARK INDUSTRIES stamped on the corner and your full fucking name and address on the front.

“Oh my fucking god,” you burst out in a high pitched scream, slamming the stack of unread mail onto the corner of your dining room table where it proceeded to spill onto the hardwood.

Care you did not — your mind was on one thing: showing your girlfriend this piece of news that was going to change your life. You scrambled on sock-clad feet across the hardwood to your bedroom, trying not to knock into corner walls.

Natasha had startled awake at your scream up and hair askew as she pulled out her gun from her pants in the middle of the floor, eyes frenzied and blurred from sleep.

You stopped in your doorway and she stopped too, gun lowered to the floor. You were practically vibrating where you stood, the early dawn sunlight that filtered into your apartment’s windows painting a beautiful portrait Natasha wanted on her walls.

“You scared me,” Natasha breathed as her body relaxed, thumping heart still loud against her chest. She shakily set the gun on the nightstand behind her. “What’s got you screeching like an injured creature, Malyshka?”

You beamed at her with excitement that was damn near contagious, scooting forward on your feet and jerking your arms out quickly with whatever you had in your hands as close to her face as you could get.

The absurdity of the entire show you were putting on in your glee was peaking her curiosity. So Natasha took your wrists in her hands and gently pushing them back about three inches from her face so she could see what it was. “Easy, my love. I need to be able to actually look at it.”

You said nothing back but kept that ear to ear grin and flushed excitement about you which read to your girlfriend that it was very good whatever it was you were bringing to her.

She focused on the envelope in your hands and steadied your grasp to ease the shaking. When her eyes scanned the words across the envelope, a slow grin of her own started creeping up on her face and she lowered your arms.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” she asked you proudly.

You glanced at the letter, then at her, then bit your lip. “I want to, yes. But more than that . . . I really wanna kiss you.”

Natasha smirked. “I should maybe be concerned that a letter from Stark gets you so affectionate, huh?” But she cups your cheeks and brings you in for a kiss anyways, sharing your excitement with you.

The interview took place at the Avengers Compound. Over the phone, Pepper Potts explained to you that you’d likely be working closely to the Avengers and thus with Tony. Where he went you would go. You were fine with that as long as you had access to the labs and could get your hands working.

Natasha was the one to drive you to the in-person interview once your background check came through clean. She was already someone with complete access and Tony wouldn’t have to send Happy or Pepper and increase your anxiety by sitting in silence.

Natasha knew how to filter out the nerves by keeping you occupied. She discussed the features of the Compound with you, and she mentions that you’ll finally get to meet her cat Liho who she’s been discussing in great detail to about you.

You had squeezed her hand and kissed the back of it before you were separated for the interview.

Tony liked you — maybe? You couldn’t tell through his highly-caffeinated, long-winded tour once you sped through the interview with him.

He had asked you mostly engineering questions . . . Oddly enough. No, “where do you see yourself in the next five years? What starting pay is best? What hours do you see working the most?”

“It’s all bullshit,” he said to you, leaning across his office desk with furrowed brows. “I plan on paying you your worth and if you’re as dedicated as you say you are, you’ll have trouble leaving the lab to sleep. And you’ll stay because I am the best there is in terms of what you want to do.”

He clocked it — but you shouldn’t have been entirely surprised. Money wasn’t much to him materially and he sat you down in the lab and watched as you began tinkering with things and babbling about their use.

He hired you within two hours.

Natasha, however, had to come hunt you down by seven at night. She found you and Tony buried into one of his suit’s arms as he was explaining the workings to you and what made it run.

“Agent Romanoff requests entrance, Mr. Stark. Shall I let her in?”

The voice above scared you. You jumped and admittingly almost twisted a wire or two. Tony scratched his chin and said, “I guess I should’ve told you about FRIDAY. That’s FRIDAY. She’s a good friend.”

“Thank you.”

“What is she?” You wondered. There was no indication of another person or even an intercom in the room.

“She’s an artificial intelligence I developed after Wanda’s husband decided he wanted to be a real boy,” the genius replied, leaning against the table to stare down at you. “She makes our lives a little easier but if you don’t want have an extesinal crisis I’d stay away from asking her if she has feelings.”

“Mr. Stark —“ the womanized AI started again, but Tony cut it off.

“Let Romanoff in. Let’s see what I’m in trouble for this time.”

The doors slid open with nothing more than a whisper and your girlfriend strides in. Her hair is up in a ponytail and she looks like she just got done doing something active. You let your eyes graze over her.

“Are you done hogging my girlfriend now, Stark?” Natasha questioned, rounding the workbench to look down at what had you so fascinated for hours.

“I suppose,” Tony said gloomily. “But don’t keep her away too long. I hired her and plan on squeezing her brain of all its important juices.”

Natasha leaned forward over your shoulder to kiss your cheek. Then she quirked a brow at Tony. “Juices stay in her brain or I’ll fuck up your suits.”

“Who makes your Widow Bites, again?”

Natasha pointed a steady finger in his direction. “Don’t test me, playboy.”

“You forgot the rest of the title.”

Natasha ignored him and leaned back down, kissing your cheeks in peppered pecks. The actions forced you to set down your tools and lean into her. “What’ve you been here doing, my love?”

“Mr. Stark is showing me how he makes his suits work and how else that technology can be used,” you told her, turning around on the stool to face her. You grin up at her, a twinkle bright in your eye. “This is so important and . . . God, Nat. I love this. Thank you.”

“Thank her?” Tony protests nearby, a clatter of objects following. “I cannot believe —“

You glance his way but Natasha puts a finger under your chin. “I’m glad your dream is coming to fruition, Malyshka,” she said, green eyes soft. “Would you like to spend the night?”

You stared up at her wide eyed. “Really? With you?”

Natasha’s answering smile was practically feral.

“Get out of my lab,” Tony grumbled. “And don’t come back until you’re decent tomorrow morning. With coffee!”

It’s been a year and you don’t think you could have made a career this successful this quickly. Not without the support of Natasha [ who insisted you could’ve done it anyway ].

But right now you were exhausted and more than anything felt like you needed a vacation. You had time built up waiting to be used but in the year you’ve been working at the Compound, no time felt right.

Natasha had gotten as busy as you not long after you started with missions that she would come home from bloodied and bruised. Patching her up was scarier than her leaving sometimes because you couldn’t tell which injuries were surface and which ones needed the keen eye of Doctor Cho.

You’d been stuck in the lab the last week and Natasha had left a month ago. She had found Wanda Maximoff — the Scarlett Witch who fell in love with Vision but ultimately lost him to Thanos as a sacrifice to save everyone else.

Natasha had looked at you grimly when she told you it was an undercover operation. You were confused, “Aren’t you sort of friends?”

“Yes, which might make it all the more volatile, sadly. She has taken a town under her control and Sam and I are both being sent in.” She leaned down to kiss you but you pulled back.

“A town? That’s . . . That sounds like a lot of power, Nat,” you whisper, uneasiness settling inside your gut. “Are you sure that it’s safe to go in?”

“It’s not safe,” she says slowly, gently. “But Wanda is my friend as you said and she is hurting but she’s lashing out at innocent people in response. It will look better from people she knows to break her from it than S.W.O.R.D. marching in. She is not on good terms with them.”

“I see.” You looked down at her suit and adjusted some things, fiddling mostly. She allowed you to do so even if nothing was really wrong with it. “Are your Widow Bites charged?”

“They could take down a bear,” she promised, then kissed you. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“We’re taking a vacation,” you told her firmly. “I’ll ask Tony when you get back. He won’t protest . . . Much.”

Natasha smirks. “If he does, I’ll kick his ass.”

You watched her and Sam board the Quinjet already missing her. Once the aircraft was out of sight was when you dug yourself back into your work. Tony didn’t ask, but he would force more breaks on you that he didn’t give himself.

Sleeping by yourself had become a lonely affair without Nat; though you did have her ever-watchful companion of the night. Liho cuddled nicely most nights as long as you fed her on time. She was a good motivator to get out of the lab by seven at the latest.

Two months without Natasha and not a peep from her has you hyper focused on anything but her. You designed a new technology you hoped could enable pipes in some countries to not need replacement as much, and keep water fresh with auto-testers.

It was still a work in progress and Tony was not shy to peek over your shoulder and cross out when something wouldn’t work in his eyes — and usually he was right when you got to the phase where you created a prototype.

“Kid.” A rough hand landed on your shoulder. You jolted slightly, spilling screws and bolts and whatever else you had collected onto the floor around you.

“Fuck.” Your hand carded through your hair, messy from a day of non-stop work. “Sorry, Tony. I’ll pick it up. Just —“

“FRIDAY can get it,” he said just as a specialized roomba came humming out from a miniature doorway in the corner and started cleaning up the mess. “It’s like ten PM, kid. Go to your rooms.”

“I fed Liho already,” you murmured, picking at your thumb with your index finger as you went over your fifth blueprint. “She’s fine.”

“Not talking about the cat.”

You broke away from the small, dimly lit zone you had sequestered yourself into and turned. Tony was in some pajamas with fuzzy slippers.

“You know as well as anybody I don’t leave this lab,” he started, awkwardly shuffling his feet. “But look — Nat made me promise that you wouldn’t burn yourself out.”

You furrowed your brow, “I’m not burnt out. I’m fine.” Your head was pounding and you knew you stank since your last shower was the night before — but anything beat going back to that quiet place.

“You’re talking to deputy director of burnt out, I’m afraid,” Tony retorted, gesturing for you to stand. It was a standoff when you sort of just sat there and he waited expectantly. “Don’t make me be your boss, Y/N, seriously.”

You sighed, leaning backward enough to reach the lamp to flick it off and get up. Your muscles ached deeply when you wobbled across the lab to the doors.

“Night, kid,” Tony calls as he sets down the other hallway of the compound where his and Peppers’ rooms are located.

Liho meowed loudly, eyes like lamplights in the darkened floor of your rooms as you entered. She rubbed between your legs and purred thickly before darting off to Nat’s bedroom to wait in bed for you.

One hot shower later and you crawled into the sheets, curling around Natasha’s previously untouched pillows instead of yours. You missed her deeply. So deeply.

You hoped sleep would chase away the longing.

Natasha pressed a few switches and pulled a lever that allowed her to safely gear the Quinjet into a safe landing. She waited for everything to power down properly, drooping in her seat and rubbing at her eyes. One of them still healing from being bruised.

The town was unhexed and mostly unharmed. Just traumatized and distraught by the events that plagued them for two months by the mysterious witch that held them hostage.

Natasha and Sam had gone in so quickly — before Wanda had a second to realize there was a disturbance. They posed as a married couple and played along with her games — the way she ran her show.

Natasha ached deeply for Wanda. All she saw when witnessing these events were acts of a broken woman failed by the world. She understood why the witch had done it. If it had been you . . .

Natasha put her fingers against the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, still waiting for the low beeping signal that would alert her that the Quinjet was finished cooling down.

They hadn’t expected a second witch. Not until Wanda figured out who she was and that was as soon as Wanda realized Natasha and Sam were there — not just creations she forgot she made.

It was a fucking disaster.

Wanda was gone. Again. She had defeated this other witch that seemed to have sought Wanda out for her power but as a result she ran without talking to Natasha.

She could still taste Wanda’s despair and shame.

“Nat.” Someone nudged her. She rolled the chair around and found Sam waiting for her. He gestured to the open backend of the Quinjet. “We’re home now. I think you should get some rest.”

Natasha smiled as she got to her feet, making sure she didn’t forget to do anything before following him out and making the trek across the landing zone to the Compound.

It was too early. Two in the morning — and she would only be crawling next to you in her bed and drinking in your scent and catching up on lost sleep. Hopefully.

Liho was not there to greet her.

It was disappointing — her cat was easily made a traitor it would appear. She dropped her bag on the ground by the door and made her way to the bedroom, leaning in the doorway.

Liho poked her head up, ears pinned back before realizing it was Natasha there and chirped a greeting. Rolled onto her back and purred loudly from her spot in the crook of your blanketed legs.

“Been keeping her company, Liho?” the spy asked, reaching over to skritch her behind the ears. “Good kitty.”

Liho blinked in agreement before releasing Nat to the bathroom, where she did her best to spot clean so she wouldn’t wake you with a full on shower.

She climbed into bed behind you and sighed when you seemed to automatically melt into her as if on instinct.

She was asleep within seconds.

You woke up to more warmth than Liho usually has in one tiny body to provide for you. You moved around and stretched, turning into the warmth —

You shot up.

“Where’s the fire?” Natasha grumbled as she turned back over and buried her face into the pillow without taking at least one hand off your body.

“When the fuck did you get home?” you fell completely on top of her in attempt to body hug her completely.

Nat groaned, but adjusted back onto her back so you could curl up on her chest. A hand went up the back of your shirt and traced the skin of your spine. “Uhh . . . Like two?”

You nosed under her chin, peppering kisses where bruises seemed to lay. “I wanted you unharmed.”

“Tried my best, Malyshka.”

You moved up and closer to her to grasp her chin between your thumb and index finger. She opened her green eyes and smiled crookedly at you. "Gonna just stare?"

You kissed her if nothing else, then to at least shut her up. She responded to the kiss instantly with need that outdid your own.

Her nails found home in the skin of your back, dragging carefully up and down as the kiss was deepened more than it already was. You pulled back, fully straddling her waist and was quick to remove your shirt. She let you.

"So beautiful," you breathed, nosing yourself into her neck and nibbling. She grunted as she pushed your ass closer to her in an attempt to keep you in place.

"You feel so good," Nat murmured back, straining her neck upwards to give you more access. With more openings to proceed and no reason to stop, your lips began a path at the same time your hand started floundering backwards for her shorts.

"Want 'em off," you breathed against her skin. It was too close to a whine for your liking but Natasha obeyed your request anyways and helped you to remove the shorts.

You pulled your lips away to situate yourself and brushed your fingers against her thigh. "Did you miss me?" you asked casually as you went about tracing random designs close but not close enough to where she wanted you.

"You know I did. Every day," she said, that normally composed woman of yours sounding rather out of breath.

You smiled and trailed your fingers a bit closer -- just barely brushing her slit. "I missed you too," you told her, reaching a finger into her pussy and gathering wetness and run it up to her clit.

She drew in air. "Malyshka," she said shortly, "teasing me is not in your favor. It has never worked before."

You ignored her and set a slow pace just as your hips started circling with your finger, adding some pressure onto your hand and more stimulation for yourself. Her hands found home on your hips.

You leaned in close to her ear without stopping, whispering so lowly that she could be forgiven if she hadn't heard it, "I touched myself so much thinking about you when you were gone. It was usually never enough, though. You always know what to do -- how to please me. Isn't it sad how I can't seem to please myself in the ways you seem to know how?"

Fingernails dug into your hips just as you sank two fingers into her cunt, your thumb replacing your index on her clit to keep the slow and steady circles going as you began to thrust into her.

She broke into Russian curses and brought her teeth to your shoulder, digging them in to keep from getting loud. You wished she didn't feel the need to contain herself -- she never had to with you.

"You're doing so good," Nat breathed around your shoulder, eyes squeezed tight as you pushed one hand deep into the mattress and reangled to try and find that one spot inside her that you know drives her insane.

"Fuck, Malyshka, right there," she moaned, abdomen flexing from the strain as you picked up your pace and your strength. She loved rough and you weren't one to deny it when she said words to you that had you putty in your hands.

Even when you fucked her she was in control in the most powerful way.

"I need you to make me come," was drawled in your ear, growing less composed the closer she was getting to her orgasm. You could fell it to in the way she spent longer clenched around your fingers and the way she grew wetter.

"Yeah?" you whisper back, locking in and going for broke as you began at a speed not usually in your range but the sounds and way Natasha clutched you encouraged you on.

"I'm so close."

"Then come for me," you begged her. You need to feel it, to see it, to fucking drink it in like you did with everything that was Natasha Romanoff.

The sting in your hips grew near unbearable as she crossed her legs behind your back and froze up. You fucked her through her orgasm and ensured not to look away one second.

It was a quiet thing, the way she came. Never too much noise but always expressive from the flush in her face and chest to the way her face goes lax in ways nobody else gets to see but you.

You helped her ride down the waves until she sank into the sheets, eyes opening onto the ceiling as her chest rose and fell heavily.

"Have you been practicing while I've been gone?" she wheezed, raking her fingers through her hair as you climbed off of her and licked your fingers clean of her.

"Oh yeah, I've got so much practice," you teased with a cheeky grin. "Me, myself, and my vibrator."

You suddenly had your world spun around too quickly for you to comprehend. Before you knew it, you found yourself looking up at Natasha.

"Stay," she ordered sternly, sliding off of your prone form and making her way to the closet.

You did not argue but you did watch her ass sway as she disappeared.

You were no better than a man.

She returned buckled into a harness, adjusting the straps and you peered up to see which dildo she chose. If it was the eight incher, you think you'd die.

It was the eight incher.

Your head fell heavily back onto the pillows and knew now that Natasha was taking no prisoners today as she settled her knees on the edge of the bed and dragged your ass all the way down.

She saw the look on your face and gained a wicked gleam to her eye. "What -- you thought you'd get away with what you just did? Not have consequences?"

"Kinda," you admitted.

"Appreciate the honesty -- but no dice." She smacked your ass. "Roll over, ass in the air."

You were purposefully slow in your movements, considering that she planned on undressing you and then straight up fucking you in this position and you decided to give her somewhat of a challenge in the process.

"Princess," she warned as she reached for the hem of your shirt. "You're being a brat."

"Sounds like a big problem . . . for you."

She ripped your shirt clean off to your chagrin, and made quick work with your sweats and underwear next. She ran open-palmed hands up the sides of your thighs and ass as she took in the sight of you.

Then her eyes glanced downward to your ass and she kicked your ankles open to where she could see your exposed pussy. Her mouth watered at how wet it was.

"Look at you," she husked, leaning over you and licking a stripe down your back. "So spread open and ready to take me. Do you need my fingers first, baby?"

Your reply was muffled by the sheets. Natasha took a handful of your hair and pulled your head up, "What was that?"

"Fingers first," you slurred and her lips quirked up at that hazy cloud starting to form in your eyes.

"Fingers first . . . ?" she trailed off, tugging just a bit harder.

"Please," you added quickly.

Natasha hummed with approval before dropping your head back onto the bed. "Alright -- since you're so fucking tight and need some fingers to loosen you up, I suppose I can warm you up."

You squeaked something out but Natasha did not force you to elaborate, knowing it was likely just garbled words anyway. She did not tease, did not draw it out. She simply thrusted three fingers in after testing your wetness.

Your body raised off the bed at the intrusion, "Nat," you whimpered clutching the sheets, "too much."

"Too much?" she repeated, raising a brow, "are you sure?"

She let you think about it as she worked her fingers in and out of you, and she removed one to give you a moment to think. "T-three, Natty."

"Are you sure?" she asked again, doing three fingers in and then two. Keeping you both over-and-under stimulated at once in the best way. "For such a smart, beautiful girl you sure are being dumb right now. Can't even make up your mind."

You whined a little into the sheets. "M'sorry. Feels good."

"Aw, I'm sure it does baby," Natasha crooned, lacing her tone with thick false sympathy. "Is that what's making it hard to think? How good it feels?"

She watched you nod into the bed. "S'lot, Natty."

"I bet," the redhead agreed, just barely brushing against your g-spot and never actually giving you enough pleasure to come. "Maybe I should go put my cock away if you're unsure if you can handle even three fingers."

"N-no!" you garbled, tightening around her suddenly. She brushed your hair from the nape of your neck and leaned down to kiss it tenderly. "Wanna take it."

"Oh baby, I want you to take it too," she says, nibbling a mark where she started a kiss. "But are you so sure you can handle it? You're so sensitive today."

"Yes! Yes I can handle it," you promised raptly, ass starting to arch higher and meeting Natasha's thrust with fevered passion. "P-please. Wanna take it."

"Okay, okay, Malyshka," she soothed and moved her lips to pepper kisses along what parts of her face was exposed to her. "Okay. You can have my cock because you're a good girl and good girls get what they need."

The praise sent a jerk through your nervous system at the same time as she pulled out with her fingers intentionally running along your walls.

She eyes the fingers covered in your wetness and resists the urge to lick them clean. Rather she decides to give your mouth something to do by putting them up to you, "Suck, baby."

Just as you took her fingers into your mouth you let out a low noise that was damn near animalistic as Natasha took you with her cock. She slipped in smoothly, eyes twitching at the pressure she felt at the base on her.

With her free hand she slithers down between your body and the surface of the bed so she could start putting pressure on your engorged clit.

She let you adjust before deciding to finally, after a few seconds of waiting, begin slow movements that already had shivers wracking through you.

She decides to talk you through them, to bring you as much pleasure as she possibly can in this moment after two months of not touching you at all, "How's it feel? Is my cock hitting you where it should?"

"S'full," you somehow managed. Well, if you were still talking . . . she pulled all the way out and pushed back in at a punishing pace.

"Gonna try to keep you full, too," she went on as her rotations on your clit began to increase and grew rougher. You were suffocating her cock and if she could truly feel it like a man . . .

"My Gods," she laughed mockingly, "were you this desperate for my touch that you're melting this quickly? I've not been inside you that long, Malyshka."

Whatever noise you made went right through Nat's ears. She was rough and unforgiving now as she practically had you choking on her fingers while the tip of the dildo brushed repeatedly on your g-spot.

Your thighs were trembling with signs that you were close even if you could not so much as whisper a word to tell Nat.

She knew your tells anyway -- just as you knew hers. You were drooling around her fingers and unable to form coherent sentences, you were grinding her hand into the sheets and giving her a rug-burn more than likely, and you were stuttering with every wave of near-pleasure that shocked you.

Natasha decided denying and playing the game of keepaway wasn't on the table today. She wanted to make you come.

It didn't take very long. One good jab of her thumb into your clit timed with her cock hitting just right sent you spiraling into a squealing orgasm that was wracking your entire body.

Natasha was left startled when she found it hard to fuck you through it, growing slippery and soaking the sheets beneath the two of you as another orgasm crashed through you with her fingers still working you.

As the pleasure ebbed away into fuzzy content, Natasha collapsed over your back and breathing against you in a way that brought immense comfort, you slowly came back to yourself.

You nipped her fingers.

Natasha scoffed as she pulled them out, leaning down to give you kisses wherever she could reach. "I make you squirt like a fountain and you bite me?"

You rolled over so that her hands were forced to settle on your knees. The strap-on had been removed at some point in your daze and was thrown aside to be washed later.

"I am never letting you go," you announced, peering up at her with a dopy smile. "That was literally mind-shattering."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "At least you find me good for something." She helped you sit up. "Are you okay?"

"Did you just not hear me say mind-shattering? As in . . . orgasms?"

"Okay, smartass." She pinched your hip and was rewarded with a yelp as she pushed you to your feet. "To the bath with you. I'm changing the sheets and setting us up for vacation then calling Tony. Get a bath ready or else."

You smiled and leaned in the doorway to your bathroom, eyeing her. "You're so cute when you're determined."

"When it comes to the axis my world spins on," Natasha said, growing serious as she walked over to you and rested her forehead against yours, "nothing could pry me away from what I want."

[jthmaaucomic]

YAY I’m finally fucking hoooome and now I can blabber my mouth off.

SO TECHNICALLY, this wasn’t the end of the chapter, but I’m still figuring out the pacing to everything and I realized there’s a lot im going to have cut or move around. Honestly, this has been such a massive but intensely rewarding challenge. I did NOT expect to draw everyday, I wasn’t even planning on it but I just enjoyed working on it so much that I couldn’t help myself.

But of course now I’ve pushed myself a little too much so im pretty tired and my head is full of nothing but a bunch of tiny psychos. I think I need a small break and for once, actually feel good about it because, if I’m being honest, I could probably crank out another two or three pages if I really felt like it.

I just want to make sure I’m on the right track though so I’m gonna take the week off to kinda go over everything I’ve made so far and reread my script, maybe catch up on some Zim episodes because hehehehehe its coming sooooooooooon.

But really I just want to thank everyone who’s been reading and sharing their thoughts on it. Like, it really means a lot, this comic is kind of my weird love letter to the fandom, for everything it’s helped me get through. So, I hope its kept in mind that I know lines can easily be crossed with the subjects im going to be sharing with this story, but absolutely none if it comes with the intention of wronging others or glorifying what shouldn’t be. It’s more like, stress relief, for people who can’t find it in their everyday lives, and want to escape to a place where it’s okay to let loose. If that makes sense.

Anyways, time to go, expect a lot of sketches this coming week, I might have to figure something out with the blog formatting cause idk, it’s already pretty cluttered. But I like to think that’s just part of the experience of it all lmao. I hope y’all have a wonderful night. Stay safe and don’t let them get you.

[starsofarda]

... The last comments I had were actually really nice, so I felt bold and drew again my girl Molinde, this time with her Feanorian blorbo.

Atm I am drawing what I feel comfortable with, because I have to remember everything from scratch and it is still very fuzzy.

MAYBE I should at least ink the drawing, but I am not feeling super confident yet.

Anyway, hope you enjoy my drawing...

[eepyali]

So I'm not majorly into Nightwing or DC myself, but I have an amazing awesome friend who is, and we're also both fans of Pokemon! They recently wanted to put him into a pokemon AU but were struggling to draw (real), so I saw an opportunity to make a little gift for them! But then it actually turned out way better than I ever expected it and so I wanted to share it. I'm genuinely so proud of this piece, it's by far some of my best work in a while and I'm scared I'm not going to be able to recreate it lol. Just looking back on some things from just 16 days ago feels astounding and I'm so stoked for my progress :)

Fun little notes:

My friend and I used this one Rooms app to help make the background. I suck at those so it just made it easier to get this done dhsjdjsjd. I honestly would've added more clutter but I got lazy. I'll definitely be using this hack more in the future though

The Growlithe is blind! Basically my friend really likes Growlithe, and when I was looking up a reference I also realized that the eye shape looked kind of like how some of the cartoons draw the Robin mask, so from there I just rolled with the idea. My friend told me later that Nightwing actually does have a disabled dog which I find cool that I actually clocked about him.

Angel Ganev and Dan Mora were both a HUGE help in making this like Jesus Christ. With Angel I've been trying to take in his improvement videos for months but I think it finally clicked this time with this piece because I actually tried to follow along to one video? And in the case with Dan Mora, normally I don't look at specific artists as reference when drawing. But since I wasn't used to drawing Nightwing I asked my friend for specific depictions of him that they enjoyed and Dan Mora was one artist they mentioned liking. The style caught my eye and let me tell you I actually took off with it. Jaw dropping, mind altering experience. I think my art has been fundamentally changed and I am SO HAPPY ABOUT IT YOU HAVE NO IDEA. I'm so excited to see where I go from here with this development in my style :)

Anyways sorry for the yapping hope you enjoy the art <3

[derschwabe08]

Emi's Equivalent Exchange gift for @justablah56

Thank you to @emis-equivalent-exchange for organizing this very cool Secret Santa gift exchange!

This is a modern au fic in which Dani and VR-LA are out shopping for a Christmas gift for the kids of Finbar and Elyse (I went with twins because I couldn't decide on a gender). It probably isn't the best fic ever but I hope you enjoy it anyway :]

 “What about this?” VR-LA asked, holding up a set of cookware for children to play with and looking over at Dani. “I am pretty sure the twins will have at least a dozen of those anyway from other family members and besides-” 

A mischievous grin spread across her face “I have the perfect idea already!” Dani was holding up a box that showed a couple children playing various instruments including a drum set and a guitar with a big label saying “Baby’s first Rock Band.”. 

 “Finbar would murder us…” VR-LA said, though he couldn’t help but to smile a little as well. “And don’t you think the twins are a bit young for that? They’re only one year old!” 

“Ahhhh don’t worry about it! But if you’re soooooo sure that this is a bad idea, fine let’s keep looking-” Dani groaned half seriously, still smirking widely as the two of them continued onwards through the store. Christmas music was blasting from the speakers and every aisle was packed with people trying to find a last minute gift for their loved ones. Much like Dani and VR-LA, who were still looking for the perfect gift to give to Tamara and Carly, Finbar’s and Elyse’s little twins. 

“Now this would be a great gift!” VR-LA said holding up a little model of the solar system for kids that also functioned as a nightlight with an integrated music box “Educational, calming and age appropriate.”

“Oh my god, you are such a nerd…” Dani rolled her eyes teasingly. “Why don’t you just give them one of your text books even? It’s a Christmas gift - it’s supposed to be fun it doesn’t need to be educational!” 

“Excuse you, this is very fun!” VR-LA said, playfully stuck his tongue out at Dani. “I am definitely bringing this, but we can keep looking for something else as well. Noooooooo, we are not getting them electric motorcycles!” he added as he saw Dani turning towards the section with the kiddy vehicles with a wide grin on her face.

 “God, you really are no fun are you?” Dani laughed. “How else will they learn to be just as cool as their aunt Dani?” 

 “You say that as if it would be a good thing…” VR-LA teased, shrugging. “I guess I should be happy you didn’t suggest a real motorcycle.”

 “Oooooo, you’re right that would be even better!” The grin on Dani’s face got even wider as she playfully punched his shoulder and continued walking towards the plushie section. VR-LA simply sighed and shook his head with a grin of his own as he followed her. 

“NOW THIS - is a proper gift!” If Dani’s boots hadn’t been peeking out between the legs of the massive teddy bear VR-LA would have walked right past and searched for where Dani was hiding. She pushed aside the head of the giant plushie and grinned at her best friend like it was already Christmas and she was the one opening gifts. “And it even comes with different bows so we can get one for each of them!” 

 “Yeah you are right, that is a great gift! Even if they can use them as beds. ” VR-LA laughed heartily as he picked up the second bear and disappeared behind it. 

 They lugged both of the bears to the check out, drawing a couple weird glances without noticing them. “Any idea how to wrap these?“ VR-LA asked once they had somehow stuffed the two giant bears into the backseat of his car.

“Lots and lots of wrapping paper, a metric ton of tape and of course a nice sprinkle of mad genius by me!” Dani said with a wide grin.

[lyquynhnhu]

Thank you for liking my post. I never expected a reply. I've never been good at writing essay or do text analysis at school and english is not my first language. I just enjoy guessing the lore of anime a really like.

By the way, Memmeln being the second last to die make sense. I just suppose that Unio was the first and Destiny the last.

As for the movie being a total tragedy… There was a scene in the first episode after Natsuko collapsed and she as a child was at the cinema watching a scene of the movie with the 9 heroes together. I thought that was the last scene of the movie. Also, I just remember that according to the prophecy the Nine Soldiers are supposed to become the new light of humanity. This could mean that their deaths/sacrifice serve to revive the Soul Futures. So, maybe that scene in the original Luke die defeating the Great Void but after that he reunited with his companion in the afterlife.

As for the remaining heroes, I watched the episode 5 preview in which Memmeln list the names of eight of the Nine Soldies except for Justice (the two you mentioned are included - by the way all the cast was already announced before the anime aired and can be found in Wikipedia along with the seiyuus).

So, next episode will be about Justice, the title of the episode is also "Seigi" (it means justice in japanese). And in the preview we see Natsuko summoning the Sailor Moon homage. And Sailor Moon is iconic for the concept of "champion of justice". Also, it’s funny the way they use the titles in Japanese and in the same episode a character with the name in English appears. Episode 3 was “Unmei” meaning “Destiny” and Destiny character was introduced.

I didn't know about Sailor Moon original seiyuu voicing here. I appreciate that they are not only making tribute to old animes from a visual point of view, but also from the seiyuu side. To be honest, not having watched the original anime for the reference for episode 1 to 3, I didn’t get it at first. After doing a research I discovered that the Tiger Mask (manga) inspired wrestler to wear a tiger mask. I thought it was the opposite, that is a famous wrestler inspired manga and anime to create wrestler character wearing a tiger mask.

With episode 4 it was different, since I’m familiar with Utapri, Idolish7 and many idol anime. And Exister seiyuu is Mamoru Miyano, he voiced a character in Utapri.

Anyway, I wanted to integrate this in my post, but I’ll write it here. I read many comments that said summing an idol to save Memmeln was stupid idea and it make no sense. I rewatched the episode many times, and here’s my explanation to why Natsuko decide to summon an idol.

Natsuko was going to follow Luke’s plan and draw the Great Void

According to Luke, Memmeln’s cult worship the Great Void and they would do everything he says

When Memmeln transform in the Great Void, Natsuko had to think to a plan B on the spot and her solution was to create something the cult could worship

The keyword here is “worship” and according to the many idol anime I’ve watched, idol are indeed people that are worshipped.

The choir is not an evil organisation that wished for the end of the world. Cults are group of peoples that search for salvation through a god. In this case, they choose to worship an evil god (or the only thing more similar to a god that exists in that world. Does that world have religions?). Considering they live in a world with constant war and in the verge or ruin with only one city still existing in the whole planet, it’s not illogical they lose hope. Natsuko basically give them a new god to worship and this god is all “life is beautiful and worth living”. What the cult needed is salvation and something eternal to believe in. And art is something eternal, and idols are connected with music which is a form of art.

Maybe it seems that the cult change values too fast, but it does happen to suddenly fall in love with a song, book, movie, etc. That’s exactly what happened to Memmeln.

Also, about Memmeln not get punished for what she did. From what I understood, transforming the void in the priest was the first and only attempt of the cult to help the void. Before that, they only try random summoning rituals. From a viewer point of view, her motivation are lame and resolution too easy. Even Natsuko didn't expect Memmeln to be a "poor written" character. In the movie she was supposed to be cool and mysterious (her motivation was neve explained, after all). But even Luke, who is supposed to be the leader, a rightful hero, didn't blame her but feel pity for her. Maybe it's just a matter of cultural perspective.

Anyway, I’m looking forward to next episode for more unconventional way to defeat enemies.

A Tale of Perishing - analysis (part 1)

Just watched episode 4 of Zenshu and it was hilarious. To be honest, it’s since episode 2 that I’m curious about the original movie plot.

What we know is that “A Tale of Perishing” was an original anime in movie format. Just from the title it’s is expected to be very dramatic. Natsuko stated that the plot was depressing, the type of angst for angst sake.

Natsuko gets reincarnated at the start of the movie. At this point 8/9 country of that world have already perished. Only 1 city survived, the Last City.

The movie probably just introduced the hero party and soon after the enemy army attacked, like it happened in episode 1. Then Unio sacrificed himself to annihilate the enemies. This means that Unio just died before getting to know his character. However, from the bit of the movie that Natsuko watched on her computer, he was alive. Maybe Unio appears only in flashbacks.

Before Unio funeral, there is the voids attack from the sky. And somehow, Luke, who was devastated by the death of his best friend, somehow managed to defeat them. However, in episode 2, QJ stated that Luke has 3% of possibility to win. Like, in the movie he was mentally unstable but manages to win, while in the anime he was physically and mentally alright and still struggle? My theory is that Luke is able to trigger some special power under dire situation. But since Natsuko resolved it all, the condition to awake such power are not met.

So, after this attack, the city has time to held Unio funeral. There, Luke meets and fall in love with Destiny. We know that Destiny would died, but I think that happened further in the movie. In fact, I think that others of the Nine Soldiers died before she did. After every loss, Destiny stay with Luke to comfort him and give him courage (while also attracting problems). The Memmeln cult stuff probably happened in the middle of the movie. Destiny is probably the last one to die and Luke completely broke.

It’s unclear if the movie ended with Luke saving the world or the enemies winning. It’s probably the former, but it’s not totally an happy ending since almost all the cast have died.

Anyway, since it was an anime movie, the duration is limited and many parts got cut. For example, Natsuko know nothing about the choir and had no idea why Memmeln transformed in the Great Void.

As for Memmeln, she lived more than 200 years always in battlefield. But the void are supposed to have appears not many years ago. On the official site, it’s written that Luke and Memmeln come from different countries before the country falls. Since Memmeln lives long, maybe her country fell century ago while Luke’s fell when he was a child.

Memmeln says that she joined the cult recently. She realizes for a long time that her life is hard, but doesn’t consider taking her own life maybe because of her responsibility as a hero. The Nine Soldiers seems to have been chosen by a prophecy. Unio said that Luke was destined to be become the legend hero the day he was born. Memmeln doesn’t choose to be a hero, but she cares for the world and the people. If she died, void would continue to attack and the people would suffer more with one less hero protecting them. With the cult, she found people who think like her. By awaking the Great Void, Memmeln believe that the world would end peacefully and equally ending everyone suffering. Her decision is quite selfish and drastic, but her decision comes from her particular circumstances.

The cult doesn’t control the void attacks, they just want them to get the last Soul Future. Memmeln doesn’t want to create panic, that’s why transforming into the Great Void and attack Luke was her last card. But she regret it. In the anime she detransformed back because she was having second thoughts, while in the original movie she is easily defeated by Luke. Probably she didn’t even try to fight seriously.

In the movie, all her motives are cut. Nor Luke nor the audience understand this twist of the plot. No wonder the movie was rated bad. I’m quite convinced that the movie condensed the story too much. Like, there are 9 heroes, but they died without getting development. It’s already difficult to develop everyone with 12 episodes (I think Zenshu have only 12 episode, wish it had more), and the movie was 2 hours long.

I think from episode 5 to 9 the anime will introduce the remaining 5 heroes. In the preview we see the dragon who was also in the opening. Usually, in the opening should appear all the characters or at least the silhouettes. But the dragon is the only one that appears.

I really wished this anime has 2 cours.

[hellothere-generalangsty]

It's way past my bedtime ans my cat is sleeping-purring next to me but I thought I'd post the process of the @ailani-reillata Ailaniversary art I made today just to talk a bit more about it

Disclaimer: doing traditional art is cool until you need to scan it or post a picture of it 😂 also kinda long post below so ofc no obligation at all to read it!

Phase one: Sketching the Idea

My inspiration for the posture was a Yara Flor comic strip I found on Pinterest. Yara looks over her shoulder and her hair falls on the side of her face, and I loved the way it framed her face and thought it would look great with Ailani's hair.

I drew a little doodle on the page to help me visualize how the hair would be divided, and focused on 3 main parts (the lines, the bubbles, the empty space) which would - supposedly- help me during the lineart stage. Below are images of the final sketch.

I was hesitant on adding details to her arms, such as the folds of a dress, but I was so anxious about ruining the drawing I abandonzd that idea. I was considering adding her tattoos and was still not decided at this stage of the drawing.

Phase 2: Line-ing the Art

Is that even a real word? Idk, I'm too tired to English properly so we will say it is. Following the sketching phase was naturalle the lineart phase, which is one of my favorite stage when drawing. I bought new inking pens too so I was able to test them out, and it went quite well!

As you can see, the ribbons, outline of the skin and facial features have been done with my new pens, and i was quite happy with the result! It gives a more natural look to the whole drawing in my opinion.

At this stage I decided not to add her arm tattoos and consider this version of Ailani as the one you would find in the early chapters of Begged and Borrowed Time, so before she would get her tattoos.

Phase 2.5: Line-ing the Hair

This stage has it's own part because it was really fun to do! The inspiration for the way I draw hair comes from @/ssavaart (aka Scott Christian Sava on Youtube). I've been following him for a while now and I'm trying to push my art beyond my comfort zone and try new stuff thanks to him, and having fun with drawing hair is one of these things!

Look how beautiful these curls are. I'm not trying to toot my own horn or anything, but I'm really proud of the drawing at this stage 😂 it's the perfect moment where the inking went well and I have not yet ridked myself with the watercolours - so I always take a long sight (and tons of pictures) to celebrate reaching this stage without incidents.

Phase 3: Watercolours

Here comes the difficult part. It always makes me nervous because I always fear ruining my drawing and all the efforts I put into it by doing the watercolours. But I love the medium too much and if I want to get better I need to practice. So, testing the waters, I finally dive head first into this crucial stage.

The watercolouring goes well, I'm overall satisfied enough to take some pictures and even try to scan it, with the hope that the scanned rendering will be better than the usual "photographing and editing" I do with my phone.

Spoiler alert: the scan was NOT better than the pictures, and no amount of editing could change that. (Or maybe I am just very bad at editing.) So, back to my "photographing and editing" habits, I somehow managed to get a good enough result:

I still feel unsatisfied as I find these digital versions do not properly render the visuals I have on paper, IRL. With the digital versionsw the hair is either so dark we don't see the details, or too bright, the colours are too warm and light... And while Ailani looks light-skinned, the paper version has these visible brown tones that I struggled to find on the digital version, even when editing the pictures. The closest I got is the tone you see on the first picture, but the image is not lighted enough so the overall quality of the picture is a bit lessened by that.

Still, I won't complain too much, because overall it was a very fun drawing to do, I enjoyed every stage of it and I would love to do another piece like this! But for now I will go to sleep because it is Way Past My Bedtime 😂

If you've made it this far, thank you for your attention, feel free to let me know which stage is your favorite and what you liked most (or disliked most) about this drawing!

I for one really had fun doing Ailani's lips, as well as filling her hair, and colouring her eyes! 😊

[waywardstation]

Look for anything (or anyone) that could be familiar

For part two:

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[xxplastic-cubexx]

filler

[ariart0]

Trying something new today! I always thought they were cute together <3