#i really wanna know what that first day was like for him

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Old Fashioned: swallow that bitter taste

Word Count: 2.7k Contents: angst, cursing, some dark themes, which include slut shaming, abuse, both physical and verbal, threat of violence, not proofread

The beep beep beep that echoes around the empty, dusty room strikes at your equally empty and equally dusty heart. You try to visit the hospital as often as your schedule permits, but these days, with all the wedding preparations, you could really only dedicate an hour every Thursday, between lectures. 

It’s pathetic. He deserves better than this half-hearted display of love and guilt, the natural combination. If he was awake, he’d undoubtedly make a snarky comment about how the wilting flowers you can barely afford is a representation of your friendship going down the drain because he obviously deserves more than carnations, of all flowers. 

Oh, how you wish he could tell you off right now. 

“Hi, Asahi. You’re looking shittier than last time,” you muse with a chuckle, a shaky smile pulling at your lips. 

There he is, lying in some drab hospital gown, tucked all nice and warm in a rigid bed, with only you, a dull lump of black lace as his only company. He can’t roll his eyes at your pitiful tone or fire back some insult about how your eyeliner is far too thick for your eyes and you more closely resembles a panda than any sexy vampire you’ve been trying to simulate. 

“Remember the boy I’ve been telling you about? Well, we got into a bit of a disagreement the other night. I don’t know, I guess he got fed up with this play acting thing we’re doing. And I don’t really blame him, y’know? We’re barely adults and we’re getting married. Isn’t that crazy? God, I wish you could be there, you can laugh at me and throw rice or confetti or whatever it is they do nowadays. Maybe even purposefully get it in my eye, knowing you.”

No reply. 

Just like all those times before, there is never a reply, only a beep beep beeping that drives you crazy and you can never seem to tune out, try as you might. Sometimes, at night, you hear that mocking sound hooking itself into your spine and carrying you away from the guiltless comfort of sleep.

With a sigh, you carry on. “Well, anyways, I think you’d really like him. He’s a little stupid. Okay, maybe a lot stupid, but I don’t know, I think it’s endearing. He has these annoying eyes that are just so bright and God, do you ever just wanna rip off someone’s eyes and stomp on them because they’re too dazzling? ‘Cause I do. Every time, I look at his. And his laugh. Oh, God. You won’t believe it. It’s the most obnoxious sound in the entire world. I actually get nightmares, I swear. He laughs like he doesn’t care how loud he is, like he thinks people should laugh more, like it’s a crime not to find laughing easy. What an idiot, right?”

You don’t mention how since that evening, he hasn’t blown up your phone like he usually does, in fact you received no notifications from him at all. Within the first hour or two, you thought he still needed some space, and you understood. But then as hours turned into a whole night, then a whole morning, then a day and another, you started to think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll never text you again. 

And can you blame him?

He wasn’t wrong, about him being used. From the very beginning, he always represented wealth and what that can bring. Surely, he was aware that even if people did genuinely like him for who he is, the strength of his name, of what courses through his blood, will always hang in the air, this infinite void shielding him from everyone who tries to get too close only to end up further and further away. 

“I think I should apologise and give him that second date he’s been begging me for. Yeah, actually begging. I told you he’s stupid.” Your voice is trailing off, a slight wobble that you can’t seem to command away. “I think I hurt his feelings. I know, surprise surprise. But I just can’t help but feel like, out of everyone involved in this thing, he’s the least deserving, y’know? Ugh, I’ll talk to the guy when I run into him on campus — he’s kinda hard to miss.”

Even paralysed and in a coma, you’re certain Asahi can tell you aren’t convincing yourself with the fake bravado. Truthfully, you’re not sure you could bring yourself to mutter an apology. No, it isn’t that. You can’t bring yourself to come face to face with him, lest you see something that doesn’t quite match up with your vision of a sincere expression of happiness, at seeing you.

Fiddling with a loose thread on your dress, you pull it taut, tighter and tighter, until it snaps. 

“Here again?”

Your head snaps back. 

“Mother, w-what are you doing here?”

Beep beep beep.

She waltzes in, clasping her snakeskin handbag closer to her, as if the cramped room would snatch it off her manicured hands. Burgundy pencil skirt clashing with her neon blouse, those staple bright red lips curl into something that makes you gulp. You don’t dare bring up the fact that she desperately needs a stylist — that is the least of your issues.  

Pursing her lips, her disapproving eyes roves over your body, before she scoffs and looks away, focusing instead on a framed print photo of tomato soup cans in all sorts of colours. You shuffle in your seat, the plastic squeaking. 

“You’ve disappointed me once again,” she begins, settling her bag on the table where your flowers droop over the vase. You recognise this tone of hers, the one that’s too calm, too flat to ever mean anything other than trouble. “You were given one task and one task only, and somehow, either by natural ineptitude or wilful rebellion, you’ve failed at something so simple. Goodness, what ever did happen to that brain of yours?”

It’s clear she isn’t here to chat about the weather, so you stand up, pulling a glove further up your wrist and exhale as quietly as you can. 

“Now, mother, I know the dinner didn’t end very well, but he just needs a second to cool down and then he’ll be on board again. I’ll go on another date with him and show him we can work together. I’ll fix it, I swear.”

Her glare pierces you, forcing you to stumble back. 

Scoffing, she waves a hand in the air. “‘Fix it?’ You will fix it? God, Y/N. It is not the time for your sarcastic little jokes. You can’t fix anything. You proved that the other night with whatever you had texted him as we made plans for your wedding.”

“Y-you knew?”

The laugh that escapes her lacks any real joy — the only one she’s capable of. Cold, mocking and scathing, you can do nothing but wince under its weight. 

“It’s hard to not notice you typing away under the table like some whore playing footsie! I raised you better than that, no? Where did all those etiquette lessons go anyways? Hmm? It’s certainly not towards your uncouth behaviour. Goodness, look at you. You’re in your final year of university and you still haven’t matured.”

When she gets into these rants, there’s no stopping her. You learnt that when she snapped at you for tripping on your own dress in front of a ballroom of people at the age of eight, and at twelve when she overheard you use a swear word with a friend. 

“Still bumbling about, pretending to be indifferent and nihilistic, like some child playing dress up. And what have I said about this all black look? You look ridiculous and not to mention hideous. When are you going to grow out of this phase? You couldn’t even lose those repulsive piercings? Even just for a couple dinners? Maybe if you did, the Gojos would have been more keen to welcome you into their family.”

Beep beep beep.

She continues, taking a step closer towards you, and you feel the room get smaller like the walls are shifting in, “We had him. Him and the rest of his family in the palm of our hands. You were so close to marrying him and fixing all our problems and then you ruined it. This is all your fault.”

Your mother’s voice grows louder, pitchier, more shrill, and you clutch your dress tight in your fists. She’s been drinking. You don’t know how you didn’t notice until now but she reeks of alcohol. Perhaps, the natural smell of death and deep levels of sanitation that permeates the air of this hospital masked that scent of hers she never bothered to try to shake off. 

“Why couldn’t you just be a good girl, hmm?” Her hand reaches for your face and you flinch. Ice cold, her touch brings the hairs on the back of your neck to a standstill. It’s been many years since she had last touched you, in any kind of soft, maternal way at least, and this foreign feeling leaves you holding your breath. 

“Why couldn’t you just give him what he wanted? Flirt a little, flash him a smile, slide those legs and let him take what he needed. Anything! Anything to make him yours. The way I did with your father.”

Falling to your chest, her hand curls, digging itself into your dress and you stagger forward with her powerful yank. You gasp. And then, eyes wide, you clutch your heart, watching the lace collar that had once been a part of you dangle in her grasp. She casts it aside. 

A cry rises up her throat, like bile, and she spews it at you. “Boys like him only want one thing, my dear. Do you know what it is? Did I ever teach you?”

Her nails are sharp. 

You notice that as she leans forward, skimming them against your cheek once more. Clammy, you feel the material of your gloves stick to your skin and you feel a sudden itch to keep it on even in death. There’s no one here. Nurses rarely come to check up on this room, not when the patient has so little wants and needs. And there’s not anyone you can text and call, no one who’d understand, who’d come at the drop of a hat.

“Answer me!” 

She wrenches your sleeve in a blur, her movements jerky and sudden and too unpredictable. That too falls to the ground, lifeless. 

Beep beep beep.

Bottom lip quivering, you stammer out, “S-sex?”

You feel the burn of your cheek before you hear the sound of her palm strike you. And you sob with her, just as she soothes the skin with a cooing sound. Her expression softens and for a second, no more and no less, she actually looks like a mother. 

“No, my dear. All boys, whether that Gojo boy’s age or your father’s, want thrill. They’ll seek it anywhere. If not from their wives, then from common whores, or from sports cars, or violence, or casinos, like your daddy — it’s why we needed you to marry that boy, remember? We have no money, our family’s fortune is scattered in the vaults of seedy casinos all over the city. We needed their money, to get back to where we used to be. They were our last chance.”

“L-last? B-but the wedding’s still happening, isn’t it?”

Was that even your voice? 

It sounded so meek, so frail, so young. 

“No, dear.” Her smile is sharp, one corner stabbing into your heart and the other twisting. “This morning, your little fiancé went to the press and informed them that you two were so-called victims of a forced engagement and would like the public’s support to maintain your ‘liberty’. The Gojos have already begun doing damage control, claiming that you broke up with him and he’s a classic college student — drunk and seeking revenge. So that’s that of your love story. Such a shame.”

Beep beep beep.

“B-but he wouldn’t. No, he wants to be with me, h-he just needed some time to cool down.”

You’re running out of breath, you can feel it seeping out of your lungs. It’s too tight in here, there are too many machines making all sorts of noises, and you just need air, you need something, anything. There’s nothing to clutch, nowhere to lean against, and when you turn to the one other person there, the eyes you wish would look at you aren’t. 

Beep beep beep.

There’s simply no way Satoru would go to the media. No, he was finally accepting the marriage, accepting you. You were so sure of it. It was clear as day in his eyes. You could even feel it pulse in that minuscule gap between you when he had fitted your gloves back onto your hands. 

He can’t be done with you. 

He just can’t. 

Beep beep beep.

Holding up a bedpan, she inspects her face in the reflection and her lips purse once more. Taunting, she giggles. “Oh, but all women learn eventually that time does nothing for us.”

She’s ran out of steam, much faster than she usually does, and even though parts of your dress lay in tatters on the hospital floor, you feel fortunate that she hadn’t decided to rip out your heart instead. You’re not sure she’d find anything in your chest cavity anyways. 

Detached once more, she slurs with bewildering high, “Don’t look so devastated, goodness. You’ll forget all about that Gojo boy soon. You must. Because you’ll be marrying into the Zenins. A nice, young man, just a little older than you. I believe his name is Naoya.”

The blood drains from your body. 

“No,” you gasp out. “No, mother. I can’t. H-he’s abusive. You know this. Everyone knows this. He’s sadistic and cruel a-and —“

Beep beep beep.

“And he’s on the market looking for a wife.” She cuts you a look, one that forces your mouth shut. It’s a talent of hers. “The Zenins reached out. Apparently, whatever’s good enough for the Gojo’s is good enough for them. What great luck, wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”

Beep beep beep.

You’ve heard stories of how he used women like dolls, dressing them up and tearing them down as he pleased. There’s always scandals and blind items making rounds online about girls he’d left battered and bruised, disoriented and silenced by copious amounts of money. A man like him would never love you. He’d never even respect you. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew it would turn out like this. Having met the man once, at some yacht, a couple years ago, you recall the pure repulsion in his eyes when you bumped into him. He saw the beginnings of your true style coming in, like adult teeth, and something flashed in his eyes. A recognition of your rarity in these parts. A sparkle of challenge. A barely restrained desire. 

You could never forget the way he had looked at you — you were a trophy at the end of a marathon and there was a spot in his collection waiting just for you. 

Like a fool, a naive, pathetic little fool, you thought you had outran him. That, in the arms of another man, a stronger, richer man, you’d be safe. But that man doesn’t want anything to do with you. 

You’re alone.

Beep beep beep.

Sighing, she makes a tutting sound and focuses back on you. “I did say to behave, no? I told you it was in our best interest that you drag that boy up to the altar no matter what, and you failed your duty as a daughter. This is the consequences of your actions, dear. But despite your frightening appearance, you’re still desired. How nice. So, smile, yes? You’re getting married, after all.”

A machine flatlines. It’s not Asahi’s heart who fails and dies right there and then. You don’t even hear anything but that incessant beeeeeeeeeeeeep that knocks you back into your seat, jaw slack and cheek stinging.

“When?”

She smiles again. 

“Tomorrow!”

[ireverie]

risky, sjy (ft pjs)

ᯤ that was too close

ׂ╰┈➤ smut, cheating, stepcest

your pajama shorts are bunched beneath your knees as they nearly knock into the bottom cabinet of the bathroom sink, your hands bracing the counter for purchase as jake roughly ruts into you from behind.

you don’t have to struggle to keep your lips closed. jake’s hand is flush against your mouth, the side of his index finger pressing slightly into your nose as his thumb jabs into your cheekbone and his pinky curves underneath your jaw. your quick breaths fan hotly against his palm and every sound is muffled.

to be fair, you had tried to stop him. you had tried to be a good, faithful girlfriend, telling jake that what you had together was in the past and he needed to let it go. but he didn’t listen. he sat you on top of the counter of the shared bathroom connecting his bedroom and your one when you still lived here, and ate you out.

if nothing else could convince you, that definitely did. 

maybe it was a bad idea to bring your boyfriend back home with you, but your parents had been dying to meet him and you could no longer put it off. you knew jake wouldn’t be happy, considering that you used to hook up before you moved out, but you didn’t expect him to take it this far.

heart unfurls in the tightening pit of your stomach as you feel jake’s thick cock so deep in your guts, stretching you past your limits just the way you remember. you hate that it feels so good, so familiar. he knows all the tricks to make your walls gush around him, kneading his cock and selfishly squeezing every drop of cum out of him. 

it’s not that your boyfriend is bad in bed, but damn, nothing can compare to the dick of the man that claimed your virginity and used to take you every day. his sex drive was insatiable, always down to blow your back out, always wanting you. more often than not, you were fucking with his hand clamped over your mouth when your parents were home, and fucking all over the house when they were not.

speak of the devil and he shall appear. there’s a knock at the door, from your bedroom. “babe?” jay, your boyfriend, calls out. “how much longer? i wanna cuddle.”

you stiffen, eyes widening as you meet jake’s gaze in the mirror. your bodies are sticking together, almost like you were never meant to be separated. jake leans into your ear, whispering, “talk to him, but don’t make a sound.”

jake doesn’t stop fucking you, merely moving his hand away from your mouth so that you can speak. you swallow the lump in your throat, your voice sounding a little breathless. “my stomach hurts, baby. it’s gonna be a minute.”

you can practically hear the frown on jay’s face, even though you can’t see him. “aw, i’m sorry, baby. do you want tummy kisses when you get out?”

jake scoffs from behind you. at that, he starts to slap his hips into yours even harder, damn near ripping a gasp from the back of your throat. he’s hitting all the right spots, knowing your body all too well. better than he should. at one particular thrust, you moan, wincing your eyes in regret.

“what was that?” jay asks, still hovering near the door. you curse under your breath, remembering that you didn’t respond. 

“sorry,” you call out stiffly, balling your hands into fists. your nails dig painfully into your palms. “it just really hurts.”

again, jake scoffs. this time, it doesn’t seem to be out of anger; it’s amusement. “hurts, huh?” he repeats. “doesn’t look like you’re hurting.”

“shut up,” you hiss irritably. it’s his fault you’re in this situation in the first place.

“okay, baby. i’ll be here when you come out,” jay answers sadly, likely feeling bad for you. he doesn’t like when you’re in pain; he drops everything to take care of you when you’re on your period.

“okay,” you echo, fighting back another moan with everything you have. jake isn’t making it easy. he says not to make a sound, but with how he’s fucking you nice and rough, lips brushing against your skin just the way you like, you would think he’s trying to get you to react on purpose. “i’m probably gonna take a shower first.”

“i’ll wait up,” jay calls back. you hear his footsteps, figuring that he’s finally turned back and gotten into your bed.

jake huffs, like he’s unsatisfied. not that he would ever say that. “so close,” he murmurs.

you exhale, relaxing your hands and tightening them again immediately as jake strokes your sweet spot. “too close,” you say, throbbing as you take in the sight of his body molding into yours in the mirror.

[ddejavvu]

pairing: (smallville) clark kent x reader

summary: clark hits it from the back for your first time, because that 'doesn't really count'.

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. anal sex, first time sex, mild discomfort for both of those reasons. my bsf was the inspo + source for this because she's taken it up the shitter a dozen times but swears up and down she's a virgin and (completely judgement-free) i find that fascinating

for whatever reason, you and clark have never had sex. whether it's because you want to save yourself for marriage, or you're worried about pregnancy in small-town kansas, or no one has a condom when you need one, the bottom line is that you and clark have been totally abstinent thus far. that's not to say you've never done anything with him, but in your minds it doesn't really count if it's not in the right place, right?

clark's touched you, sure, and you've touched him. you've sucked him off and he's repaid the favor breathlessly, if not a little too eagerly as he goes down on you. you've cum on his fingers and you've dry humped for days and he's fucked your thighs and he's fucked your tits on one wild occasion just to have a hole but hey!! he's never put it in your pussy and that means it doesn't really count. you haven't technically, really had sex yet, all of that other stuff is just sort of foreplay if you think about it. you've never let him in your pussy so really you've never had sex at all.

it's another night of heated, heavy makeouts, heaving, panting breaths washing over your bare, goose-bumped skin as he sticks his hands into the hem of your jeans, and you reconsider your commitment like you always do at this point in time. you really want to stay strong, you're not letting him inside of you, but- but that's not really the only place he could put it. you're sick and tired of the teasing, abstinence is what you think is right but you just can't seem to keep it in your pants either of you. so you consider it for a moment, and you decide that you're not breaking your resolve, he will not be allowed to stick it in... that hole.

"Clark," You murmur, taking hold of his wrist where he's fingering the hem of your panties, "Do you want to-? Like, you know, go from the back?"

There's perhaps no modest way of saying it, but his brows furrow like he's not picking up what you're putting down.

"Like, like- you know, I'll- I'll get on my hands and knees, and you can..."

One brow raises, then the other, "Oh. Oh, like-? Like I can- uh, I can go inside?"

"Yeah. But- y'know, from the back."

"Yeah. Yeah," He fumbles with his jeans, feeling a tightness below his gut as he fully comprehends what you're offering. even with your jeans rucked down by your knees he can see you through your panties, there's already a wet spot from where you'd ground into his thigh earlier. and he's not using that hole, but it's still sexy to see as you get yourself propped up on your hands and knees. He realizes that this is going to be harder than normal sex, that your body won't help him as much, but the thought of finally getting his dick wet in one of your holes- he's already about to cum.

Clark does have lube, because it came in a care package from a seminar his high school did on safe sex practices. You've used it once because you were trying to get off quick and you didn't have time to get yourself wet naturally, but he's glad for the rest of it now as you settle on your hands and knees.

you feel a little ridiculous, on the floor like this, but you even weirder when his hands spread your ass apart, territory you’ve never ventured into before. You have a sudden flash of anxiety because Clark goes still, but he’s only trying to figure out how best to go about this. He realizes something easy enough to figure out but something he’s never had to before: you’ll have to be stretched open before he can fit inside of you. His stillness comes from his hesitation; he doesn’t wanna fuck up the best offer you’ve ever given him. He wonders, lube on the hole, finger dry? Lube on the finger, hole dry? Lube on both? He’s never done this before either. He settles on lube on the finger and still he hesitates. What if he fucks up? What if he didn’t cut his nails short enough last night (thank god he cut them at all), what if he hurts something, what if it doesn’t feel good at all and you break up with him?

Meanwhile you’re face down, ass up on the floor, silently begging for him to just stick it in already. You’re starting to think maybe it’s just gross to him, maybe he only wants the one hole you can’t give him yet, maybe he’s watching you with disdain as you bare yourself for him.

Clark doesn't mean to startle you but it does break you out of your mental spiral when he finally touches you. The lube is cold and you jerk forwards away from the touch, but you settle back into place, apologizing with burning cheeks. Clark is just as out of his element, and he reaches out to secure your hips in place with the hand that isn't lubed. He didn't mean for it to be suave, but it steadies you, and you exhale shakily, pushing back into his hand to prompt more.

You are tight, but with the lube he's able to get his finger in relatively fast. all it takes is a little finesse, a steady, gentle, circular push against your hole that gives him some resistance but is ultimately willing to acquiesce. Even after he gets one finger in it's tight, but he uses a bit more lube and soon your hole gets used to his single digit. you're letting out little gasps and whines because it feels differently than anything else you've ever experienced, and you feel Clark's finger begin nudging at the tight walls of your hole before he's confident he can slip another finger inside. He's gentle, and he doesn't jab his finger side-to-side, but he plays with it, figuring out how much give he's got and letting out his own breathy sighs as he watches his finger slide in and out, glistening with lube. he's fingered you before and watched, but this is different, this is tighter and he feels you squeezing down on him with every pump of his finger. he gets embarrassingly hard in his jeans, practically squirming himself on the floor while he watches you swallow him up.

When he's deemed you loose and pliant enough to try for a second finger he keeps them pressed tightly together, hesitating when you squirm and cry out a bit in discomfort.

"You okay?" He glances around at you, trying to gauge whether you're in pain or if it's just different from your scrunched-up face.

"Yeah. I- It's weird," You admit sheepishly, "At first, but- just keep going, please? I want to- I want to do this with you."

He pushes two fingers in with a steady force and your nails catch the dust on his floorboards as they curl into the wood.

It's a slow process, because he's never done it before but he knows enough to know it'll really hurt if he fucks it up. He gets to three fingers before he tries his dick, which proves to be perfect, because his fingers are thick and he's continued in the pattern of gently and barely scissoring you open with each new finger added. It's hard because you're tense, but he's got his big warm had on your hip, rubbing gentle circles into it with the ounce of brainpower he has left while he watches your hole swallow his fingers up. He's murmuring, 'relax', But it's okay, looser is better than tighter, at least for your comfort levels. you're still plenty tight when he takes his hand away to fumble with his belt, smearing lube against the front of his jeans in his haste to get them off. The condom is no better, wasting precious moments that he could be inside of you with its foil wrapper, clinging to the rubber inside.

"Okay." He's breathless and oh-so-eager, "You ready? You still want to?"

You push backwards again, hole now open and inviting him in, "Please! Please, Clark," You've gotten past your momentary discomfort, or you're at least willing to take it for the chance to have Clark inside of you, "Please don't stop now. I want you to be inside of me, we just- it has to be like this."

He's already on his knees and lined up before you're done, and he grabs greedily at your hips, giddy now that he's gotten to free his raging hard-on from his jeans. He's loathe to separate his hand from your ass to guide himself in but it's so fucking good when he finally pushes in that he almost passes out. he's used to the suctioned but loose cavern of your mouth, or your fist that can open and close around him. This is the first time he's ever shoved his way in anywhere that doesn't open, and even though he'd stretched you a bit too wide you're still completely enveloping his dick, warm- almost hot and tight as he pushes in as far as he can.

He probably should have gone slower for the first thrust, because you cry out and rock forwards, your elbows nearly buckling, but he'd been a little too eager to sheathe himself fully inside of you. He gasps out and takes a second to just feel, noting that his hips are now flush against yours, and he can feel your warm skin, he can feel your warm body, he can feel your warm hole swallowing him up and keeping him stuck in place. It feels like a divorce to pull out, but he does it so that he can push in again, moving slow to make sure you don't get hurt. he knows it's gonna start out uncomfortable but you're still pushing back into him, and you're breathing slow and steady, trying to steady yourself through the initial difference in feeling so that you can enjoy it.

"Sorry." He grunts, feeling every single ounce of pressure against his cock as you squeeze him, trying so hard not to let himself collapse over you. He's strong enough to hold himself up but you're making him so weak, so frazzled and braindead that he just wants to collapse and take in the way he's buried in your ass forever. He makes the mistake of looking down as he pulls out and he nearly busts right then and there watching your hole perfectly conform to the width of his cock.

His breath is huffing over your back, and he finally sets a steady pace when you're feeling okay enough for it. As soon as he gets a rhythm going he knows he'll never stop, grunting and panting and groaning as he feels the most intense pleasure he's ever felt, better than his hand, better than your hand, better than your mouth. You're so tight and hot and you're already trembling, and he can't stop himself from leaning down to press his face into your back. his nose digs into the back of your neck and his mouth just sort of opens so that he can press his lips and tongue and skin to your flesh, mindless and needy and sticky as he ruts his hips desperately, roughly, greedily against your ass.

He's rocking into you like a man starved and you feel him hitting impossibly deep in a spot you've never had anything hit before. It's pleasurable, yes, but it's not enough, and if you could drag a hand to your cunt to play with yourself you would. but your arms are shaking and it's all you can do to stay on all fours, while clark pounds your ass. his dick is thick and strong and your cunt aches for it but you'll have to be satisfied with this. your mouth falls open at the feeling of being so full and then so empty, over and over and over again. it's like a vacuum, and you arch backwards into him with each pull-out, desperate to fill that empty space as if he's not going to force his way back in within a fraction of a second. It's an addictive rhythm, and you moan over and over and over again as he buries himself in your ass.

He's dragging you closer, pumping his hips harder, holding you tighter with every thrust and he finds himself embarrassingly fast to finish. he should be stronger than this, he should be able to contain himself for longer than a few minutes but the way your hole keeps that constant, tight pressure on him has him coming undone quicker than he'd like to admit. He's got a condom on so he can cum inside no sweat, but he hadn't even thought about it before it had happened, and he wonders if you'd have asked him to pull out had you had the time. he doesn't, and there's so much that it fills out any gaps between the condom and his dick. It's messy and gross and squelchy as he rides it out but he's so overwhelmed by the feeling of your hole that he can't do anything but keep going. all he can do is keep pumping his hips, grunting and groaning into your back as your hole milks his orgasm, and he has to consciously hold himself up instead of collapsing over your back. he's strong enough to stay upright but it just feels so good, like nothing he's ever had before. He knows he's cum before you, he knows you haven't cum at all, and that you're not likely to from just this. but he'll fix that in a minute, as soon as he gets over the mindblowing feeling of you clenching around him.

he pulls out and you whimper at the final loss of contact, still pressing back for more. He drags himself off of you and presses a sweet kiss to the curve of your ass, soothing the sting from where his hips had slammed into your skin over and over again. you're panting and you finally hit the floor, resting even though your body wants stimulation and now. Clark drags you into his lap, letting you sit against his chest while carefully avoiding his sensitive cock. Next time- god, he's already getting hard over next time, he'll bounce you on his lap. but for now he reaches for your cunt with his clean hand, finding it wet and begging for his fingers just like your ass was.

"Thank you," He murmurs, nosing at your temple as you lay in his lap, jolting and squirming as he slips two fingers inside your ready-and-waiting cunt, "Fuck, thank you, that was- that was so good."

"Clark!" You turn into his chest, holes screaming with sensation as he fingers you, finally giving you enough to get off on, "You- I- I want you inside again."

"Now?" He asks, breathless, his lips pinkened and puffy from his teeth gnawing at them. You nod and he lets you clamor onto his thighs, already lining himself up to fuck your hole again. When you sink down onto him it takes some bracing and effort, but he slips right back into the now familiar-rhythm of up and down, in and out, deliciously tight pressure, and he knows he'll never be fully content with his hand ever again.

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

An (Almost) Unheard Confession

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

genre: soft fluff

requested: yes

el's thoughts: i hope yall like it!! requests are open, so if you have any, feel free to send 'em my way!

bucky masterlist

Bucky and Y/N’s friendship had been forged in the middle of chaos. She had joined the Avengers a couple of years ago—sharp, capable, with a heart too big for her own good. Unlike most people, she had never looked at him with fear or hesitation, never treated him like a walking weapon.

At first, Bucky had kept his distance. He was used to being on the outskirts, keeping people at arm’s length. But Y/N didn’t let that happen. She had a way of worming into people’s lives, into their hearts, without even trying.

She checked in on him without making a big deal about it—making sure he ate after long missions, dragging him into movie nights with the team, and bringing him coffee exactly the way he liked it. She talked to him like he was just Bucky, not the Winter Soldier, not Steve Rogers’ best friend from the 40s—just Bucky.

And somehow, without realizing it, she had become his best friend.

She was the one who could make him chuckle even on the worst days, the one he trusted with the pieces of himself he still didn’t fully understand. She was the one who saw him—not who he used to be, not who the world thought he was, but who he was actively trying to become.

And somewhere along the way, he had fallen for her.

He had tried to push it down, bury it deep where it couldn’t ruin everything. She deserved better than him. Deserved someone who didn’t come with blood on his hands and ghosts in his head. So he stayed silent, stayed in his place as her friend, even when it hurt more than he’d ever admit.

Because having her in his life—no matter what—was worth everything.

~

The compound was quiet. The kind of quiet that settled in after a mission, when exhaustion weighed too heavy on everyone’s bones to do anything but rest.

Bucky sat on the couch, head tipped back against the cushions, muscles aching from the fight earlier. He should get up, take a shower, maybe even crash in his own bed for once. But Y/N had dozed off beside him, legs tucked under her in a way that was bound to cause her slight pain when she woke up, curled up under a blanket, and he hadn’t moved since.

She looked peaceful, her face relaxed in sleep, her breathing steady with her lips parted. A strand of hair had fallen across her cheek, and Bucky had to resist the urge to brush it back. He clenched his metal hand into a fist instead.

He should leave. Should get up before he did something stupid—like say something he couldn’t take back.

But the weight of his feelings pressed against his ribs, suffocating in the silence.

“I don’t know when it happened,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. “Maybe it was always there. I just refused to let myself see it.”

Y/N didn’t stir. Bucky exhaled, he rested his head on the back of the couch and tilted it so his eyes lingered on her peaceful form.

“You take care of everyone, you know that? Always checking in, always making sure I’m eating, sleeping, not losing myself in my own head.” He huffed a whisper of a laugh. “You probably don’t even realize how much you really mean to me.”

His fingers curled against his thigh. He’d faced enemies, and fought battles most people couldn’t even imagine, but this—this was terrifying.

“I care about you, Y/N. More than I should. More than I know how to handle.” His voice was barely above a whisper now. He finally brought his hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, his cold metal finger dragging across her soft, warm cheek. “But I don’t wanna mess this up. I’d rather have you as my friend than risk losing you completely. But I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. I’m–what did Parker call me?” he muttered to himself. “Down bad. I’m down bad, Y/N. I love you.”

He swallowed, his chest tightening.

“Guess it’s easier to say this when you’re asleep, huh?”

Silence.

Bucky let out a slow breath, shaking his head at himself. He should really get up, and put some space between them before—

“Bucky…”

His entire body went rigid.

Y/N’s voice was groggy, quiet, but there was something else in it too—something careful, something knowing. She lazily reached out and laced their fingers together, the metal bringing her comfort against her hand. She moved closer and softly laid her head on his shoulder.

“I love you too.”

His heart slammed against his ribs.

She had heard everything.

Bucky froze, barely breathing, as Y/N's words settled into his chest.

She loved him too.

For a moment, all he could do was stare down at their intertwined fingers, at the way she had instinctively sought out his touch like it was the most natural thing in the world. He had spent so long convincing himself that his feelings were one-sided, that loving her was something he had to keep buried. But here she was, curling closer, her heartbeat steady against his arm, as if loving him had never been a question.

A shaky breath left his lips.

“You—” He swallowed, shaking his head with a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “You heard all of that?”

Y/N hummed against his shoulder, her voice laced with exhaustion but warm with amusement. “Mhm. Every word.”

Bucky groaned, tipping his head back against the couch. “Great. So you heard me say I was ‘down bad’ too.”

She chuckled, squeezing his fingers. “Oh, definitely. That was my favorite part.”

He glanced down at her, and for the first time in a long, long time, he didn’t feel like running from what he wanted. She was right here, looking up at him with tired, fond eyes, no hesitation, no second-guessing.

Bucky let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “I really love you, Y/N.”

Her smile softened, and she shifted, pressing a gentle kiss against his shoulder. “Good,” she murmured. “Because I really love you too.”

He exhaled and the tension in his chest unraveled, replaced with something lighter, something hopeful. Slowly, carefully, he lifted their joined hands and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of hers, letting himself savor the warmth of her skin against his lips as he closed his eyes in contentment.

Y/N sighed blissfully, her grip on him tightening as she settled against him once more. “Can we talk more about this in the morning? ‘Cause I really just wanna fall asleep right here.”

Bucky chuckled, wrapping an arm around her, holding her close. “Yeah, doll. We can talk in the morning.”

And for the first time in years, tomorrow didn’t seem so scary—it felt like the start of something good.

[artstennisracket]

dilf!Art with a lil belly after he retires…he gets a new lil gf and UGH just the way he fucks is so gentle and goooood. He spends so much time trying to please you, and when you want to please him he gets soooo into it, moaning and whimpering, PRAISING YOU

dilf!art with a lil belly will always have a place in my heart🙂‍↕️ he’s so cute just enjoying being retired but also dicking you down so good hehe. wasn’t sure if this was meant to be a request so im just gonna cover all the bases and make jt a request lololol i hope you like it :)

why tf am I always adding unnecessary context wtf just get to the smut mel🙄

dilf art x fem reader

cw: nsfw (18+)

You still couldn’t really believe you were dating Art Donaldson. Sure you had just graduated college so you were an adult but he was still so much older so you thought he’d never go for someone your age.

It was all thanks to that fateful night at the very fancy cocktail bar you went to with your friends to celebrate your graduation. He had sent you a drink, another one of whatever you were already drinking. When you ask the waiter who sent it, he points to a blonde man sitting on the opposite side of the bar.

You vaguely recognize him but can’t quite put your finger on it. But your friends convince you to go talk to him so you do. The conversation goes something along the lines of

“you’re very beautiful, celebrating something tonight?” Art asks.

To which you respond “my college graduation.”

Art lets out a huff saying “jesus fucking christ,” under his breath.

“what?” You giggle.

“you’re— you’re too young for me.” He says definitively, but the half smile of his face is betraying the words he just said.

One thing leads to another and now you’ve been dating for 3 months.

Art is very different from any other guy you’ve ever dated. At first you think maybe it’s just because he’s older, but the more you get to know each other the more realize it’s just who Art is.

He’s very gentle and kind. He’s so attentive, remembers all the little things about you. Makes sure that every time you go out to eat, the restaurant knows your food allergies before you get there. Anytime you mention any little thing that you’re remotely interested in or want to buy for yourself he always remembers.

You mentioned once how you’d love to get more into the fashion space so you can develop your career in fashion marketing, and next time new york fashion week rolls around you have front row seats to all your favorite brands.

You mentioned once how the lululemon jacket you wanted had been sold out in your size for months. Two days later it shows up at the front door of your apartment.

There were also subtle displays of dominance that weren’t even meant to be sexy but were just such a turn on for you. He paid for everything. It was never a question or an awkward “do you wanna split it?” type of conversation. Most times he didn’t even let the bill come to the table. He would say he has to use the bathroom and meet the server so he could pay the bill discreetly. This way you never saw the bill, and you never felt rushed by a server bringing a bill unprompted.

Everytime you guys travel anywhere he makes sure to be the one carrying your bag, or rolling your suitcase alongside his own.

He took care of you in ways you’ve never been taken care of before, the intimacy was just the cherry on top.

There were times where he was more dominant, taking control, manhandling you into different positions without asking. Really fucking into you, with bruising, punishing, strokes. Whispering things into your ear like “this pussy is mine” and “don’t try to run away now, isn’t this what you wanted?”

But other times he would be in a really soft and sappy mood which led him more to “making love”. Like today. He was a feeling a little insecure recently due to the weight he’s been gaining post retirement.

You were sitting up against the headboard while Art laid next to you. You scrolled on your phone with hand, the other hand softly running through Art’s hair.

You could tell he was feeling off so you ask, “hey, feeling okay?”

He nods with a sigh, “yeah I just- does my stomach look like, bigger?”

You direct your gaze to his naked torso. He likes to sleep in his briefs only. His abs weren’t as prominent as when you met him and he did have a little bit of a tummy but you thought it was cute. You move your hair from his hair to rub his tummy.

“your tummy looks perfect,” You say smiling towards him.

He groans shaking his head no. He moves so that his head is on your lap and his arms are around your waist. “you’re just saying that, but I guess we all can’t be supermodels like you,” He says before he blows a raspberry on your stomach where your pajama shirt had ridden up.

You giggle moving a hand to his hair quickly to pull him away. You were incredibly ticklish. “im serious,” you say a little out of breath, “i think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

He looks up at you with a small smile on his face. He starts slowly kissing down your abdomen and continues kissing over your panties as he makes his way down.

Eventually he laying on his stomach situated between your legs. He licks over your folds through your panties which elicits a small gasp from you, “ah-Art.”

He smirks before moving your panties to the side and really diving in. He kitten licks at your clit, keeping eye contact.

You keep a hand in his hair, pulling occasionally when it feels really good. He sucks on your clit lightly before he starts going to town. Licking your folds, lapping at your clit, not forgetting to fuck his tongue into your wet hole lapping up all your juices. You keep your grip on his hair as moans continue to fall out of your mouth.

He sticks two fingers in. Pumping in and out while simultaneously licking and sucking at your clit. It doesn’t take much longer until you finish with a “oh fuck Art, i’m gonna— gonna cum fuck fuck,” pulling on his hair harder.

He cleans you up using his tongue, making sure not to miss a single drop. He sits up smiling and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. You pull him in for a kiss, your tongues roaming each other’s mouths.

You bite his bottom lip pulling away smirking, “now it’s your turn.”

You push him down on the bed so he’s lying on his back. You pull down his boxers with haste and he’s already hard from eating you out.

“no baby you don’t have to do that, just like making you feel goo—holy fuck,” Art groans as you swallow him down.

He holds your hair out of your face, always so considerate. You can tell he’s trying really hard to hold back to you pull off to say, “don’t hold back, wanna hear you,” then you go back down to lick up his shaft before sucking on his tip.

He groans bucking up into your mouth,

“feels so good baby, oh my fuck. please—please keep going shit.”

You choke a little trying not to gag, sucking hard while moving up and down his length.

“you’re doing so good for me, look so pretty with my dick in your mouth fuck,” Art whines.

He continues looking down at his cock going in and out of your mouth, your plush lips wrapped around his cock, “baby i’m so fucking close— don’t stop, fuck, please-“

But you pull off instantly, you don’t want him to cum just yet. You sit up looking at him with a slight pout on your face, “but I want you to fuck me.”

Art bites his lip, letting a deep breath out through his nose, “whatever you want sweetheart, gonna give you the world.”

He lays you down gently, lining up in between your legs, before pressing himself into you slowly. His presses kisses along the length of your neck and gently nibbles on your ear. He whispers, “you are so fucking tight jesus christ, squeezing the fuck out of my cock.”

He continues with his moderate pace, making sure to take his time with his longer more sensual strokes, “fuck baby,” he whines.

You let out a long whine initially and then a moan everytime he bottoms out, “feels so good, fucking me so good.”

“ah- ah just wanna make you feel good baby,” He moans out.

You can tell by how much he’s moaning and whimpering above you that he’s already close. He starts rambling, “please fuck baby please can I cum inside you? feel so good, fuck, just wanna make you feel good, your pussy is so fucking tight baby, so good, please baby i just— “

You cut him off using one hand to hold the side of his face making sure to keep eye contact, “of course you can, cum inside me, wanna feel you fill me up.”

He groans closing his eyes and moving his forehead to rest on your shoulder before he speeds up his last couple of thrusts, coming deep inside you.

His fucks you through his orgasm before pulling out slowly. He usually loves watching his cum drip out of you but this time you say, “i think you’re gonna have to clean up the mess you made.”

And Art is never one to say no to eating you out, no matter how many times a day it is.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 ・h.j.

—you help han shave after a long day, leading to kisses and confessions.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・han jisung x reader // 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, fluff, and some more fluff // 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・839 // 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・you shave his face, mentions of blades, hannie baby is really tired, kissesss, honestly nothing else haha.

𝐚/𝐧・I've been trying to just write and not over-edit everything until it feels like my fingers are going to fall off so I might make this a series where I post random thoughts that I haven't edited until my brain explodes :) sooo I only edited this once (everybody clap!) its probably painfully obvious (this took me 6 hours I literally don't know how)

"I feel gross," Han grumbles, lifting his head from your chest and rubbing his 5-o'clock shadow that very quickly turned into a 12-o'clock shadow when he decided to crawl into bed with you after work instead of completing his usual night routine. "M'just so tired, I don't wanna do nothin'."

You peered down at him, his self-conscious frown pressed against your shirt. His chest trembled every time he breathed—heavy with the type of exhaustion that settled deep into his bones, a feeling he knew all too well. Han carried the world on his shoulders and never asked for anything in return; you wished for nothing more than the power to release him from all this weight, and carry it upon yourself for a change.

"M'gonna do something, okay baby?" You whisper, planting a ginger kiss on his forehead as you untangle him from your arms and lift yourself from the mattress. It feels like hours until you come back, Han fidgeting restlessly when you slide back into his room with a silly smile and an impressive spread.

"Is that a charcuterie board?" Han laughs, your smile like a soothing balm to his fatigued muscles. You splayed out various shaving essentials onto the piece of wood, including: a razor, shaving cream, and a large bowl of water that makes him tilt his head, wondering how you were even able to balance all that on your arm.

You nod, seeming very proud of yourself. "Yes, indeed it is."

His face melts into a grin as you set yourself up, placing the board onto the bedside table and settling yourself atop his thighs. Han's thumbs brush mindless circles on your hips, like they always do. His eyelids flutter shut as you slather cool shaving cream over his jaw, basking in the relaxing essence of it all. He breathes, inhaling for the first time in what feels like lifetimes, allowing your gentle hands to ease every ache and pain from his body.

You glide the razor across his jaw, dipping it into the bowl of water every now and then to shake the hair off. The room is silent, save for the quiet hum of your heartbeat and the soft scrape of the blade, walls thrumming with the silent intimacy you two share. You had thrown open the curtains hours ago, now painting the room in splotches of light and cool air, which licks up his spine making him shiver. As if on cue, something stirs inside him, a feeling that blossoms inside his ribs, a warmth that spreads through his skin, making him want to get up and dance yet lay down and kiss you all at once.

This is far from the first time Jisung has experienced this strange phenomenon. It happened when you snuck into his practice room after hours, with nothing but yourself and a sharp tongue, lecturing the staff about his unrealistic schedule. It happened at the sight of your reassuring smile, front and center at one of his concerts. It happened when you kissed him for the first time, breathing life back into his body when it felt like anxiety had taken it all.

And it happens to him now, as you squint your eyes, lips pursed in concentration; you were so kind and attentive, so absolutely ethereal. The midnight stars hung over your head like a delicate halo, strokes of blue and gold sprinkled over your face, leaving him dizzy and breathless.

It hits him, suddenly, intensely, with a flutter in his chest and a trembling exhale—he feels stronger when he's with you. The revelation almost seals his windpipe shut, lashes collecting dew as he peers up at you admiring all the wonder you hold.

You finish, dipping the razor into the water once more before smoothing your thumb over his freshly shaven jaw, eyes sparkling with constellations only he could find.

"You make me feel stronger—" he breathes, the words slipping out before he can overthink them; part of him doesn't understand what he meant, but the other knew it just felt... right.

For some time, you are unable to respond, simply blinking, mouth slightly agape. The silence kills him, making him squirm awkwardly in his seat, suddenly feeling very embarrassed by his confession. And then you press your palms against his damp cheeks and rid the distance between you two.

It knocks the air out of his lungs all over again, no longer thinking about anything except for how your hair smells like vanilla and your lips taste like spring. You feel like the universe, clutched tightly in his hands, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

[tea-writes19]

yes | poly!b.b. s.w. j.t.

pairing: bucky barnes x sam wilson x joaquin torres x f!reader

summary: your followers are confused on who you are dating

warnings: established relationship(s), polyamorous relationship, swearing, fluff, pure crack tbh, comedy, suggestive content

a/n: this is purely for my own enjoyment. please be aware of the warnings and pairing. don’t like don’t read. okay that’s all, enjoy :)

liked by joaquintorres, samwilson, buckybarnes, and others

yourusername: word of advice: don’t go camping with bucky

tagged: @/samwilson @/joaquintorres @/buckybarnes

view comments below

user1: oh to be y/n

user2: fr i wanna be friends with the avengers too

user3: wait i thought she was dating one of them?

user4: no lol they’re just friends

user5: nah she’s def sleeping w/ one of them

user6: sam’s face😭😭

user7: he looks so annoyed😭

joaquintorres: legend has it sam is still on that rock pouting bc we woke him up to watch the sunrise

samwilson: maybe i would’ve been less grumpy if bucky hadn’t made us hike 3 miles to see it…

yourusername: lol ok mr. i haven’t had my morning coffee yet

buckybarnes: i didn’t force you to come with

samwilson: your exact words were (and i quote) get your ass up or else

user8: 😭😭

samwilson: i distinctly remember you groaning the whole time up too

yourusername: maybe, but you don’t have any proof

joaquintorres: uhhhhh….

user9: seeing joaquin’s post first makes this comment section even funnier

user10: wait what did joaquin post??

user9: a pic of y/n looking grumpy watching the sunrise

user10: omg i’m dying😭😭

user11: same!

buckybarnes: i’m not that bad

yourusername: doubt but ok

joaquintorres: liar liar pants on fire

user12: i’m starting to think bucky is that bad

user13: frfr

samwilson: STARTING TO?!?

liked by samwilson, buckybarnes, yourusername, and others

joaquintorres: not pictured: me losing feeling in my legs

tagged: @/yourusername @/buckybarnes @/samwilson

view comments below

yourusername: damn i see how it is

samwilson: haha take that!!

joaquintorres: sorry love but sam bribed me w/ a new flight manoeuvre

yourusername: it’s ok guess i’ll just go kms😔

user14: love?👀

user15: y/n we love you please don’t kys

user16: #justicefory/n

user17: are you dating y/n?

user18: omg they’re just friends

user19: he called her love so…

user20: aw i was kinda hoping it was sam

user21: #teamjoaquin stays winning

samwilson: not pictured: how you lost said feeling in your legs

yourusername: ^^^

joaquintorres: i don’t think insta allows that kind of activity

buckybarnes: didn’t stop sam last time

user22: AYY YO WHAT??!!

user23: OH MY GOD

user24: SAMUEL ARE YOU IMPLYING WHAT I THINK YOU’RE IMPLYING

user25: i’m so confused rn…

user26: wait are sam and joaquin together???

user27: not bucky mentioning storygate tho🫢

peterparker: i love being left out😒

yourusername: pete you know damn well why you were left out

peterparker: doesn’t make my fomo hurt any less

samwilson: you can come with next time instead of buck

buckybarnes: YOU’RE GOING TO REPLACE ME WITH THE KID?!?!

samwilson: yes

liked by yourusername, joaquintorres, peterparker, and more

samwilson: this trip would have been better without bucky

tagged: @/buckybarnes @/joaquintorres @/yourusername

view comments below

yourusername: say it louder for those in the back🗣️

user28: not all of them hating on bucky😭😭

user29: like sir what did you do?!?

buckybarnes: none of you appreciate me and it shows

yourusername: i thought i showed my appreciation perfectly fine last night🤨

joaquintorres: maybe don’t take us hiking for 5 days straight next time…

user30: HELLO??? Y/N!?!

user31: y’all wanna share smth with the class👀

user32: wdym by that y/n huh?

user33: i was going to say their friend group is so wholesome but after y/n's comment idk anymore

user34: lmao fr

user35: same like didn’t joaquin call her love in a comment on his post???

user36: maybe it’s just a nickname and she’s really dating bucky?

user35: what FRIENDS call each other love?!?

peterparker: me watching everyone in the comments freaking out be like: 🫢☕️

user37: tell us what you know!!!

samwilson: gotta keep em on their toes

user38: spill the beans peter…

liked by joaquintorres, samwilson, yourusername, and others

buckybarnes: i for one had a lovely time

tagged: @/yourusername @/joaquintorres @/samwilson

view comments below

samwilson: ofc you did😒

yourusername: i liked it when you let us take a break that one time

joaquintorres: best 2 mins of my life

user39: are y’all ok?😭😭

yourusername: no :)

user40: wait a sec…are those y/n’s legs in the hammock??

user41: +1 point for #teambucky

user42: i’m starting to think it’s a throuple situation or smth bc what😭

user43: you’re so real for that

user44: are you or are you not dating y/n

buckybarnes: …

user45: that wasn’t a no!

liked by joaquintorres, peterparker, buckybarnes, and others

yourusername: morning workouts >>>

tagged: @/buckybarnes @/joaquintorres

view comments below

user50: i think a little more than working out is going on girlie

user51: ^^^

joaquintorres: wdym that’s working out too…

user52: SIR—

buckybarnes: workouts without sam >>>

samwilson: I WAS TIRED YOU FUCK

yourusername: god just kiss already🙄

joaquintorres: who says they aren’t rn

yourusername: wait you right…it’s been awfully quiet

user53: OH

user54: ayy yo what’s bucky and joaquin doing👀

joaquintorres: working out duh

buckybarnes: duh🙄

user55: 😭😭

user56: two guys working out zero feet apart bc they’re gay

buckybarnes: so close…we’re bisexual

user56: my bad

user56: two guys working out zero feet apart bc they’re bisexual

joaquintorres: there we go👍

peterparker: oh would you look at that, i was left out again…

yourusername: PETE YOU HAD SCHOOL

buckybarnes: get off your phone and pay attention in chem

peterparker: the fact you know my schedule is slightly disturbing

user57: only slightly?

peterparker: everything mr. barnes does is scary

user57: valid

yourusername: even me🥺

peterparker: especially you

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: guess where we’re going, wrong answers only!]

story replies

joaquintorres: the moon to visit steve

yourusername: we’re flying to the moon in our favorite rocketship

joaquintorres: zooming through the sky, little einsteins!

user58: rfk jrs swear-in

user59: bahamas?

user60: so are you and sam dating?

peterparker: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

liked by joaquintorres, buckybarnes, samwilson, and others

yourusername: italy i love you and your cats

tagged: @/joaquintorres @/buckybarnes @/samwilson

view comments below

user61: GIRL WHO ARE YOU DATING???

yourusername: yes

user62: yes to who?????

yourusername: yes

user63: oh my god

user64: are they…all dating each other???

user65: quick where’s the girl who predicted this

user42: i’m here🙋‍♀️

user66: you know what, good for them

user67: get that d y/n

user68: damn girl leave some for the rest of us😭😭

yourusername: meet my friend peter @/peterparker

peterparker: wait what

joaquintorres: i don’t think i’ve ever seen bucky and sam so close to murdering each other and us before

peterparker: that’s bc you weren’t at the airport in 2016

yourusername: ^^^

yourusername: if looks could kill we’d be dead rn

buckybarnes: if you guys had taken 5 minutes longer i would’ve cannibalised sam

samwilson: man come on

user69: how yellowjackets of you

yourusername: i promise you he doesn’t understand that reference

joaquintorres: but we do and we agree

user70: damn i wanna go to italy now

user71: i can’t believe we got cap polycule before gta 6

user72: the tumblr girlies are going to go crazy

user73: it’s like destiel becoming canon again over there

user74: it’s already trending😭😭

peterparker: why do i even bother to talk to y’all anymore

yourusername: bc you love us

samwilson: atp you’re our adopted son

buckybarnes: i don’t want stark’s kid tf

buckybarnes added to their story —>

[caption: because y/n hard-launched us as the kids these days would say]

story replies

user75: please which one is teaching you slang😭

joaquintorres: yay i beat out the other two

samwilson: this is pure favoritism

buckybarnes: i didn’t see you complaining last night…

yourusername: joaquin is never going to let this go😔

user76: first ever story and its confirmation of the polycule

user76: god i love it here

liked by buckybarnes, joaquintorres, yourusername, and more

samwilson: venice (feat. y/n making us stop to pet every cat she saw)

tagged: @/yourusername @/joaquintorres @/buckybarnes

view comments below

user77: y/n is so valid for that

user78: my fav polycule

user79: i love how we’re all just like yeah, makes sense

user80: tbf it does make so much sense

user81: we were all wondering who y/n was fucking when really they were all fucking each other

yourusername: bucky said we could keep one!

samwilson: i swear to god if i find a cat in your carry on y/n…

yourusername: uhh i have to go

buckybarnes: my exclusion from the post is payback for my story isn’t it?

samwilson: good to see your brain works sometimes buck!

user82: oof someone get some water for that burn

user83: so does this mean alpine is getting a friend?

samwilson: no

buckybarnes: yes

yourusername: yes

liked by yourusername, buckybarnes, samwilson, and others

joaquintorres: we in the spaghetto!

tagged: @/samwilson @/yourusername @/buckybarnes

view comments below

yourusername: PASTA PASTA

user84: the caption😭😭

user85: i need to know the reason behind slide 2

joaquintorres: sam was yelling at us bc of the cat😔

yourusername: he’s trying to make us get rid of her

buckybarnes: he’s being very rude to gelato

samwilson: WE CAN’T JUST GRAB A CAT OFF THE STREET AND SHIP IT BACK TO THE USA

yourusername: not with that attitude you can’t

user86: live laugh love the spaghetto

user87: omg i love that tiktok😭

peterparker: i call dibs on being gelato’s godfather

joaquintorres: that’s your sister

samwilson: i can’t believe i’m a father of three

buckybarnes: i’m still not acknowledging the kid as mine

liked by samwilson, yourusername, joaquintorres, and more

buckybarnes: they complained about this trip a lot less

tagged: @/joaquintorres @/yourusername @/samwilson

view comments below

joaquintorres: i’m not saying it’s because we had running water but that’s exactly what i’m saying

buckybarnes: i still question why you joined the air force sometimes

samwilson: damn so that’s how you want to play huh

buckybarnes: i don’t know what you’re talking about🧑‍🦯

user88: please tell me that’s gelato🥹

yourusername: sadly no but i wanted to keep this one too

user89: love how y/n is petting a different cat in each post

user90: she’s one with the cats

user91: the cat-whisperer fr

yourusername: damn that’s a good pic of me

peterparker: narcissistic behavior

yourusername: you would be too if you were me

user92: you go queen!!

user93: i’m loving the self confidence!

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: welcome home gelato🫶🏻]

story replies

user94: stop she’s so cute🥹🥹

user95: omg adorable🤍

peterparker: i love my baby sister

© tea-writes19 do not repost, translate, or copy

[clairedaring]

In another episode of iQIYI English subtitles straight up made up a whole story vs what was being said - GELBOYS EP 3 edition

In this scene, we've got Bua talking about his and Moo's playlist and then he proceeded to talk about him surprisingly getting into Moo's close friends circle.

Below is the screencaps of what the English subs were.

This is what they were actually saying (translation may contains inaccuracies since I'm not native, just definitely closer than iQIYI engsubs)

Take a look at the playlist of Moo and I created together first. Moo keeps adding these songs about kissing like 'kissing you, kissing me. I'm going crazy! So embrassing. Talking, dating for this long, I think it's about time that he asked me to be his boyfriend, do you believe me? And I'm so sure he wants to 'eat' me. Eat me up completely. And you know how I usually scroll his IG, waiting for his circle to turn red. Since I wanna know what he does in a day, update on his daily activities. But just now it's no longer a red circle, it's a green circle. And when I went to watch, it's a clip of him showering. You know right? It's the 'close friends' circle. You choose the special people to show them parts of your life that you wouldn't normally show others, but I saw that. Which means I'm his 'special person' now. Isn't that annoying? So listen, like...

Sometimes I get if iQIYI English subbers don't want to translate slangs or fandom-specific terms, but this is a whole other level of straight up lying????? It's weird and I really wish they wouldn't take so much liberty in their translation like that (ToT)/~~~

[intrepidacious]

step number one

summary: You haven't kissed anyone in a couple of years. Johnny's more than happy to help you out.

pairing: johnny storm x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: friends to lovers, making out (in the name of practice) please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: this was supposed to be my valentine's day fic but here we are. c'est la vie. hope you still enjoy this fluffy nonsense a week later 🫶🏼

masterlist | read on ao3

"You got any plans for tomorrow?" Johnny asks the day before Valentine’s Day, spread out on your bed like usual, his eyes not lifting from his phone.

You snort. "Yeah, right."

There’s something, you think, about the aggressively pink-and-flowers-and-chocolate aesthetic of this month that well and truly makes you want to throw up. 14 per cent discounts and coupley pictures and cutesy videos have been flooding your feed for the past week and a half, and with most of your friends neatly paired off as well, it’s like there’s absolutely no escaping the—

"Why not?" Johnny asks. "I mean, pretty girl like you gotta have guys lined up around the corner." The smile in his voice is sincere enough to let you believe he really does mean that as a compliment.

"First of all, ew," you reply, closing your app after yet another "date fit" video. "Second, the last date I went on ended with the guy leaving the country, so there’s that." Granted, you’d known about his travel plans beforehand, but still.

Johnny pushes up on one elbow. "Really. Coffee shop creep?"

You scowl at him. "Don’t call him that."

He’d been nice enough. Paid for your drinks and museum tickets. Hung his jacket over your shoulders when you started shivering. Yes, he’d also ghosted you and gone to Iceland, but it wasn’t like you’d known him that well.

You’d only gotten your hopes up too soon, like you always did.

"That was your last date?" Johnny says, attention fully on you now. "Wasn’t that, like, four years ago?"

"Five," you mumble, your cheeks heating. Almost six, but who's counting? "So, no, I’m not doing Valentine’s Day."

Being single is much easier, anyway. You don’t have to consider anyone else in your life; don’t have to wonder about what they’re doing or whether their family liked you or if they’re planning a three month trip abroad … huh. Maybe that one’s still somewhat of a sore point, after all.

"Why haven’t you gone out with anyone in five years?"

"I don’t know, it just sorta happened. Not everyone goes on a date with a new person every week."

"Gross exaggeration."

"Not really," you say, nudging his side with your toes. "Do you ever see those girls a second time?"

"Sometimes. Hey, when did this become about me?" He catches your foot when you make to poke him again. His smile doesn’t waver, but his voice becomes gentler when he speaks again, a little more serious. "I thought you want a relationship."

You swallow.

"I do," you say quietly. "It’s just … it’s scary. I don’t like putting myself out there, and I’ve been so busy with everything else. I don’t have time to worry about small talk or the fact that at this point I don’t even know how to kiss anyone anymore."

It’s a vicious circle, really. Wanting something serious while also being terrified of anything serious. And suddenly, almost without noticing, years have gone by and nothing has changed at all.

Next to you, Johnny goes very still.

Honestly, it’s not the reaction you’ve expected. Deep down, you thought he’d laugh, tease you about the fact that it’s been nearly six years since you’ve gotten intimate with anyone. Sometimes, you want to laugh about it yourself, even though at the same time, you don’t find it funny at all.

But Johnny Storm has always had more layers than people give him credit for; even you, sometimes.

"Do you …" His voice cracks and he clears his throat, staring at the wall behind you. "Do you wanna practice?"

You blink, heat rushing to your cheeks before you even understand what he’s asking. "Practice what?"

"Kissing."

…

Maybe your brain short-circuited. There’s been some misfiring in your neurons, mistranslating his actual words, because there’s no way on earth he’s just suggested what you thought you heard.

"I—"

"It’d be one less thing for you to worry about, you know," he interrupts, talking quickly. You’ve never seen him look at you this intently. He seems to realize from your stunned expression, and a shadow of his earlier smile softens his face. "Don’t worry," he says. "I don’t bite unless you want me to."

Your mouth opens and closes a couple of times, your heart pounding so loud you can hear feel it behind your temples. "I don’t know how to respond to this."

"Say yes," Johnny says. "We can just try it out. We don’t have to bring it up again after today, it’ll just be … preparation, you know? Step number one of getting you back in the game."

It doesn’t feel like a game at all, this suggestion.

The craziest part about it, though, is that you are seriously considering it. You stare at him, his pretty blue eyes and his cocky grin, and the earnest expression behind his nonchalant façade. No matter your answer, he wouldn’t judge you.

Besides, it’s not like you’ve never thought about it.

You’ve caught glimpses of Johnny kissing other girls one too many times not to secretly wonder what it would be like. To feel his lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed against you, your hands gliding over the short buzz of his hair.

It’s longer now, maybe even long enough to tangle your fingers in and yank.

"Fine," you say quietly, and watch his smirk falter ever so slightly.

No matter his grand bravado, he clearly didn’t expect you to agree. It’s sweet, the way he scrambles to sit up properly, not even caring that his phone drops to the floor.

"Yeah?"

You swallow, nod. There’s an excited blush spreading on his cheeks that’s kind of endearing but also makes you want to melt into the ground. The way he’s staring at your lips makes you feel aware of every single cell in your body. You can’t remember ever being looked at like this.

"Do you want to …?"

"I don’t know, can you just—"

His hand cups your cheek, warm and steady. He’s always so warm.

"Close your eyes," he says lowly, and they fall shut of their own accord.

You don’t think you’re breathing as you wait, your hands fisted into your blanket as if you’re trying to hold on for dear life. Maybe you are.

For a very long moment, nothing happens, and you’re starting to feel like you’re being ridiculed after all. Like you’re going to open your eyes to Johnny laughing in your—

His lips brush against yours, just a single, careful touch, lingering, testing the waters. You don’t dare to move, or breathe, or do anything but feel. Your mind is racing, even though you cannot catch a single coherent thought.

The sheets rustle, the mattress dipping as Johnny breaks the kiss, adjusting his position. His thumb is still on your cheek, a gentle caress.

"You in there, darlin’?"

"Yeah." Your grip loosens a little.

"Okay." His breath fans over your lips. "You wanna try again?"

You’ve barely started nodding before he dives in again.

This time, you’re a little more ready for it, moving your mouth against his experimentally. He smells nice. You don’t know what to do with your hands.

He pulls away again and your heart tugs painfully, but he only tilts his head the other way and goes back to kissing you, still so soft, so languidly, like he has all the time in the world. He makes no rush of deepening the kiss, which is so like and unlike him at the same time.

It’s you, then, who leans in closer, your tongue slipping into his mouth, your brain going in and out of focus with each shuddering breath as he responds fervently. His fingers move down to your chin, angling it just a little. One of your hands lands on his shoulder, seeking balance.

He tastes sweet. Dangerously addictive.

This time, you’re the one to move back, your eyes flying open, feeling like his fire has set your entire body aflame. "How’d I do?"

Johnny blinks a couple of times, staring at your mouth, his pupils blown wide. You press your lips together.

"Not bad," he says hoarsely. "Maybe a little …"

"What?"

"Come here."

He catches your hands, putting them around his neck. It’s an awkward position, the rest of your body still angled away from his until he raises an eyebrow.

You realize there’s two options before you, and you’re not ready to have him on top of you in your own bed.

Instead, you straddle his thighs, looking over his shoulder to not have to meet his eye. His arms fall around you, settling at your lower back, pleasurable heat crawling up your spine.

"This okay?"

You kiss him again.

He makes a startled noise against your mouth, tightening his hold on you as his head drops back, granting you easier access. Your heart is pounding so wildly in your chest it’s making you dizzy.

It’s the most natural thing in the world, to kiss him like this. To scratch your fingernails against the nape of his neck until he makes that sound again. It vibrates against your tongue, and you melt against him, his body hot and solid against yours. Even when you come apart for air, he’s the only real thing in the world.

There’s nothing innocent about the way your mouths crash together now. He swallows your surprised moan like he’s been hungering for it, his hands bunching up your shirt at your back. You shudder against him when he grazes bare skin, each new touch burning in the most delicious manner. You’re weightless, intertwined, content to never again draw a single breath that hasn’t fallen from his lips first.

His tongue slides against yours, tasting your mouth in a way that borders on desperate. You press even closer to him, your fingers slipping into his hair in that way you’ve wanted to for longer than you’ve cared to admit even to yourself, hips involuntarily stuttering against his until he groans, responding in kind to each push and pull.

Finally, after what well may have been hours, you come apart, your forehead pressed to his, chests heaving. You don’t want to open your eyes; don’t want to return to the aftermath of what you’ve just done.

"Go out with me."

You sit back. Johnny’s arms are still draped around you, and there’s a mesmerized smile on his face as he looks at you. "What?"

"Go out with me. On a date." His voice is rough and strangely hopeful, and it makes your stomach flutter. "I promise no small talk."

"You’re not serious."

"About you?" His gaze drops to your lips again. "Always." His nose bumps against yours. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" You exhale shakily, dropping to a whisper. "That’s soon."

"Hmm."

"Maybe I should practice some more before then."

He smiles against your mouth.

thank you for reading my first full length johnny fic 😌 i'm sure it won't be the last. if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

[hyunjiiza]

dance your heart (and mine) away , | . ᯓ 🍵 ݁‧ ᵔ

d-a-n-c-e ୨୧ enhypen members when they have a crush on their new choreographer, who just so happens to be you . | contents : gender neutral , reader can dance , first time meetings - mentions of mistreatment (super vague) ᰋ wc ; 1612 . ꉂ ot7 .ᐟ

｡ ᰋ 𓂃 | hi guys !! my first time writing for enha so im a little nervous but i think its okay, i might do a part two as a smau or something where you actually start dating! first post in a while that isn’t a re up load .. i got a burst of motivation so im taking advantage ,, also i started watching dahmer and i like how it was filmed and how they portray everything so if you’re into that kind of stuff i recommend giving it a watch !! happy reading

ʚ ni-ki ɞ

definitely thrown off guard when they’re promised a new choreographer and someone his type walks in

subtly tries to get to know more about you while making it seem like he’s just being nice

has to debate going extra hard to impress you or acting stuck to get your help

“can you maybe do it with me? or can i watch you do it first??”

all the other members notice and make fun of him but they like you too so they’re unintentionally wingmen

jungwon convinces you to hang out with all of them and seats you and niki together (everyone can tell what he’s doing)

he legit goes red and stiff as a board when you sit next to him even though he tries so hard to be nonchalant and cool

works up the courage to ask to have a one on one session to work on new choreo

spoiler: it’s awkward because he’s shitting bricks

“so.. do you have a boyfriend..”

“you couldn’t ask me that after i got out of a handstand”

ʚ jungwon ɞ

is plotting on you the MOMENT you introduce yourself

what initially draws him to you is the way you’re insistent on making the dance room a safe space for them

takes full advantage of the fact that he’s the leader and is always hogging you

late nights together: making new choreography, learning new tricks, drafting stretches and vocal exercises to do while working out, laughing and laying together flat back on the cool dance floor. this is when he really starts understanding his feelings for you.

watches the way you interact with all the other boys to determine if he really wants to go for it or not

asks you to stay after practice one day and you genuinely think you’re about to get fired but he just walks out of the room and then back in with flowers and a pretty flush to his face

“ithinkyou’rereallyprettyandireallyreallywannatakeyouonadatepleasesayyes ..?”

“uh.. what?”

ʚ sunoo ɞ

wasn’t even listening when the company told the group they were getting a new choreographer so when you walk into the room and introduce yourself he takes it as a blessing

he does actually get a little stuck sometimes and is prepared to be scolded but when you just explain it slower for him he falls hard

once you settle into a comfortable rhythm with the whole group he recruits jungwon to ask about your love life, your type and if you wanna date someone

convinces you to stay with him after practice to “take his instagram pictures” but really just wants to have alone time with you

doesn’t really know how to ask you out so he just gradually gets you to go out with him more and more

facetimes you saying he has questions but just makes you stay on the phone with him while he does skincare and falls asleep

“you bought this for me?? it’s really expensive !”

“i’m bribing you. will you go out with me?”

ʚ sunghoon ɞ

nervous when they’re all waiting to meet you, (even though it’s literally not a big deal he’s just weird.) definitely bouncing his leg up and down

cusses up a storm in his head when he realizes he’s gonna have to work with you and his heart is definitely not gonna be able to handle that

messes up because he gets distracted staring at you

convinces jungwon to ask if you can be there for filming because he likes your presence

catches you practicing before actual practice starts and scares the shit out of you bc he’s just there staring at you

wants to die when you fall out of what you were doing and trip

cringes at himself and goes to help you get up with his stupidly muscly arms

“i’m so sorry..” while he’s still holding you and doesn’t realize he can let you go now til you start laughing

bonus: let’s you go and you fall again and then he falls to the floor laughing with you

“your laugh is cute”

“you’re cute”

“yeah. wait what?!”

ʚ jake ɞ

thinks he’s being nonchalant about his crush but stares at you the whole time they practice

gets really into the dance and makes stupid faces and is really embarrassed after

convinces you to go get food with him after a super long practice and you end up talking for hours about everything

it’s great, until you realize you walked there. and the other members left him.. and your car is currently getting a tire replaced

gets an uber with you to your house, walks you to the door, and then the uber leaves him because he thinks he’s going there too 😭

he’s actually really embarrassed and thinks you think he’s stupid but he gets heeseung to come get him and you let him in and make him play uno with you

heeseung comes! to save the day!! he also gets stuck playing uno ..

everyone falls asleep on your couch

you and jake end up waking up together in the morning and make breakfast together like you’re parents

gentle grabs of the waist from behind, grabbing things from top shelves for you, maybe even a kiss up against the counter

“are you guys fucking making out? and what is that smell??”

“the eggs :(“

safe to say all three of you do the walk of shame into the practice room after breakfast

ʚ jay ɞ

literally doesn’t care that they’re getting a new choreographer

until you walk in

“bro who is that??” “the new choreographer?? who else dumbfuck??”

literally acts like an outstanding citizen. does NOT let you catch him lacking.

cleans up, buys everyone snacks from the vending machine, if you need a volunteer he’s there

everyone laughs at him because they can tell he’s just trying to impress you, so they come up with a master plan to also act like him so he has to step it up

he almost throws a brick at jungwon when he starts getting you your favorite drink before every practice, looking him directly in the eye every time he hands it to you and you smile

“i can take you out and stuff. like we can go out together you know?? and get you more than drinks. if you want..”

(while he’s red in the face)

ʚ heeseung ɞ

is the most skeptical about someone new coming in, so your first session after meeting he’s just watching you

someone messes up and you jokingly say “everyone drop and give me 100” and they actually start and you’re just like what the hell

when you’re like “guys please i was kidding” everyone is also like what the hell bc they thought you were fr

he thinks the concerned look on your face is so cute he isn’t even embarrassed about dropping to the floor instantly

you make NO jokes after that and everyone feels bad (including you)

jake suggests you all go out for ice cream to break the ice (haha)

heeseung runs over to the seat next to you

you get the same flavor and he’s silently coming up with baby names bc he’s convinced it’s fate

once everyone starts laughing together you rest your head on his shoulder without noticing and he creams his pants and leans his head on top of yours

“get a room” -niki. followed by a smack

. ᯓ 🍵 ݁‧ ᵔ | @cosmicalily @0sunshinecryptid0 @jinnieboosworld @lixies-favorite-cookie @zelinkcrossing @hwanqluvs @eastjonowhere @nxtt2-u @pixie-felix @smlbch @tricky-ritz @yaniluvs @pigeonseatmayo @transparentheartcollection @4ng3l-ch1ld | [༝༚] @hyunjiiza 7:07

[rosenclaws]

So my birthdays around the bend (next week Saturday) and my sister just slept with the guy I used to like (ik, very messy) so I was wondering if you could write some sort of Wolverine revenge sex story cz I will not be participating in that !

Thanks 😭

a/n: omfg that's insane im so sorry adsfjlk; I got u babes and I hope u can go and celebrate ur birthday and try not to let it ruin ur big day. I hope it's okay I wrote the reader with fem anatomy because I wasn't sure if that's what you wanted. I hope this cheers you up a little bit <3

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, rough sex, unprotected, dirty talk, creampie, fingering

You were certifiably pissed. I mean you had every right to be. You stormed through the mansion and everyone seemed to get out of your way.

"What's wrong with you?" Logan asks, the only one who doesn't seem afraid to poke the bear.

"Fuck off." You grumble. Throwing open the fridge to search for wine or beer or literally anything at this point. Logan rolls his eyes and watches you angrily move things around the fridge.

"Jesus just take it. Looks like you can use it more than I can." He hands you the rest of his beer which you take from his hands. You take a long sip, wiping your lips as you sit on one of the stools by the kitchen counter. The anger slowly dissipating into sadness.

"My sister slept with a guy I used to like." You mumble. Logan raises his eyebrows but stays quiet.

"It's messy I know but like, it just feels like such a betrayal." You were really hurt. I mean of all people it had to be the two of them.

"I was supposed to spend my birthday with my family but I think I'm just going to cancel." You say bitterly.

"That's really shitty." Logan leans on the counter, his arms flexing as he rests his heavy body on the marble.

"You shouldn't cancel your birthday because of her."

"Well what do you think I should do?" You huff.

Celebrating your birthday sounds miserable if you were being honest. Maybe you could just do a small thing here at the mansion but most of your friends were out on a mission right now. You glance at your phone and see a text from your sister. Rolling your eyes you place your phone in your pocket, not wanting to even deal with her right now.

"If I were you, I'd fuck someone else. You know show her that she can't get to you." Logan suggests casually.

You scoff at first, of course Logan would suggest that. That man brings home someone new every time you go to the bar. But...he's not wrong. It's petty yes but you know what, fuck it. You smirk, looking at Logan who narrows his eyes cautiously at you.

"Logan..." You put on your best puppy dog eyes and he just chuckles.

Your sister has always had the hots for Logan. The one time she visited the mansion she couldn't stop talking about how hot he was. Did she have a crush? Who knows but you do know it would be a massive ego blow to her if she knew you were hooking up with the Wolverine.

"Yeah sweetheart." Logan purrs. Logan would be an idiot to not be attracted to you, but relationships weren't really his thing. In the sense that he's bad at them. So keeping things casual is simply just what's best.

"You wanna help me get revenge on my sister?" He smirks and leans closer to your face, his presence is overwhelming as his pretty eyes stare into your own.

"You know what you're asking for? I don't play nice." You shudder at his words. Your legs pressing together without even thinking.

"Neither do I." You whisper back.

Without another word Logan smashes his lips against yours. Groaning into your mouth as he pulls you into him. Your hands brace themselves on his toned chest. The white tank top does little to hide his muscles. With ease he hoists you over his shoulder and carries you to his room.

You're practically buzzing with excitement as he kicks his door open and places you onto his bed. His sheets smell like him and you just want to curl up in the soft fabric. Logan wastes no time in shedding his clothes, pulling tank top over his head and unbuckling his jeans at lighting speed. You lick your lips at the sight of him. Fuck he's like a Greek statue.

"Take em off. Now." He commands and you don't hesitate to obey. Your clothes are thrown without a care somewhere in his room. You'll find them later. Your phone is tossed onto the bedside table before Logan can throw it across the room. He looks ready to pounce. Logan crawls between your legs, his lips sucking on your neck harshly.

"Fuck!" You hiss as he bites down on your collarbone, his tongue coming to soothe the slight pain as he feigns a sad look.

"Sorry sweetheart, just wanna leave a few marks. Right where anyone can see." Oh god you don't even want to think about what your neck will look like after this. Though you quite liked the idea of showing them off. A reminder of the amazing sex you're about to have with Logan.

"Normally I'd take my time with a someone as pretty as you." He purrs. His lips tracing down your chest and stomach.

"Start with an appetizer," He spreads your legs as far as they can go.

"And feast until you're screaming my fucking name baby." He slips his fingers inside your warm cunt, groaning at the feeling.

"So fucking wet already? I've barely touched you." His fingers are like magic.

Soft whines are pulled from your lips as he fucks his fingers into you. A rough but steady pace. One that has you going insane. As much as you want to take your time, you need him bad. You want it hot and dirty.

"Logan please, just fuck me already!" You snap, the pleasure twisting in your body is almost unbearable.

"Bossy." Logan teases as he pulls his fingers out of your cunt. Sticking them in his mouth to clean them up.

"I'll have my taste next time." Your heart leaps at next time.

Logan strokes his cock slowly, pressing the tip into your cunt. Fucking hell is he big. With one thrust of his hips he slots himself fully inside. Your back arching as you try and get used to the feeling. Hands clawing at the sheets trying to ground yourself.

"Easy, I got you. Just breathe." Logan whispers in your ear.

His elbows keeping him above you. His words may be sweet but his actions are devastating. His hips pounding you into the mattress. Barely giving you a second to breathe. Your head is in the clouds. Logan pins your wrists to the bed, it's the only thing keeping you grounded to reality.

"Fuck fuck." Logan groans, his tongue sticking out a little as he chases his high. He was right. He doesn't play nice.

"Logan!" You cry as he sits back on his knees, pushing your legs up to fuck you in a new position. You asked him for help and he was going to give you the best fuck of your life.

"That's it baby, can feel you squeezing me real tight." His hands wrap around your thighs, fingers digging into your skin.

"Don't fight it." Logan growls, he can see the way your face twists in pleasure, your body is reacting before you can even think about it.

He's silently begging you to come. He's close and he can feel the animal coming out in him. The pleasure seeping into his bones. Your nails dig into the sheets. Vision going blurry as Logan pulls the most intense orgasm you've ever felt. Your legs shake as pleasure explodes through you.

The feeling of your own orgasm triggers something in Logan. He lets go of your thighs and grabs the headboard. Splintering the wood with his strength. He grunts as he powers his hips recklessly. Chasing his own pleasure with teeth bared and eyes clouded with lust.

"Fuck!" He growls as his hips still. His eyes rolling to the back of his head as he comes inside of you, making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"How was that for revenge? Gonna show off my art to her?" Logan asks with a smirk, his fingers tracing the hickeys he left on your skin.

"Maybe..." You mumble.

Logan lays by your side, sitting up with the sheets covering his lower half. You move to rest your head on his chest, his arm coming to rest on around your back. This was meant to be a revenge fuck, something you can rub your sister face in. But you're already craving more. As if the universe was listening you hear your phone ding. Lazily you reach for it. A text from your sister.

Can we talk??

A devilish smirk crosses your face as you open the camera and lift your phone up. Angling it so that she can clearly see the hickeys on your neck and Logan's bare chest.

"Really sweetheart?" Logan asks, amusement in his voice.

"What?" You say innocently. Logan finds it very hot, this side of you is new to him and he likes it.

You type a few words before pressing send.

Sorry! I'm busy 😜

[one attachment sent]

Shutting off your phone and tossing it onto the floor.

"Now," You sit up and crawl on top of Logan, straddling his waist. His hands grab your hips, a curious but interested look on his face.

"Does that super healing of yours work on everything?"

[zepskies]

Aww yay!! Thanks so much for diving back in, my friend!! 😍 Girl I think you're right, because despite all the terrible shit that was going on in the 40s with the war, the movies and media of the time was so very romantic. 💕

Can't wait to see what you thought of the rest of this chapter!!

First of all, you know damn well by now that whole snooping in the beginning made me damn nervous. I could care less if that dick gets offended, but man, was I scared of what he’d do to her if he caught her!

LOL I tend to do this a lot, don't I? 😂 I guess I just like the suspense. 😝 But oh yeah, that's the worry right? How's douchecanoe gonna react if he ever finds out what she's doing, and how she's doing it. 😬

Ouch. Such a painful conversation. I was screaming at Sam throughout to shut his damn mouth 😂 Also, Dean… The same evening he picks up a woman?!?! Unbelievable! And I know full well neither brother is really to blame, considering they don’t think of her as anything but an unhappily married woman and certainly not - looking for another man so quickly. But oh well…

Oof ikr? You just wanna throttle him here, even though realistically it's like you said -- they're not thinking of her as Dean's future girl. 😜

The word “scoundrel” got me good too, btw 😆

LOL why are those old-timey words so funny to us now? 😂😂

Uh-huh. Don’t worry, Dean. You’ll get her all to yourself soon enough 😝 And God, every sentence that mentions Michael and his douchbaggery triples my amount of hatred for him.

It's gonna be a bumpy ride, but he'll get there eveeeentually. 🤣🤣

Ugh right? Every time Michael opens his mouth you just wanna --

Oh, no, I’d argue that girl is fully fair game here. Her asshole husband is not respecting or treating her right. All bets are off 😏❤️‍🔥

Hahaaa you're so red-hot for Part 3, istg...

What consequences? “Accidents” happen and solve all problems

lmfaooo right? Like what if a milk truck just "accidentally" backs up into Michael's face. Wouldn't that be fun? 😆😆

Ugh, so close 😩 Not me advocating for them to fully make out while her shitty husband is there and none the wiser

Honestly I was very close to writing that very thing! 🤭 But then I thought, "nah, too much. Save that for *later.*"

Of course the dick has a floozy 😒 Can’t believe he stepped out on her a month into their marriage, too. What a goddamn loser…

Floozy.

But seriously though, Michael's the biggest effing loser! You'll learn more about what his deal is in the chapters coming up...

Swoon 😍😍😍 That man is such a charmer with words. Definitely a professional flirt lol Love the idea of them going on a nightly bus ride through the city together. Oh, how romantic! Again, fully swooning here 🥰🩵

Dean's just got an answer for everything, doesn't he? 🥹😭 VERY much a professional flirt lol, even if he means it, in this case.

Oh yeah, they're about to have a very fun filled night! 😂 Next chapter is the one most inspired by The Clock. 💕

Aww yay!! I'm so happy this story is able to make you swoon, my friend. 🥰 Thank you so much for your wonderful comments -- they really brightened up my day today! 💖💖

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Before we tune back into some 1940s drama, I just wanted to thank you all so much for your wonderful responses on Part 1 of this series. 🥹 It’s my first time doing a story like this, so I’m very happy you liked the jumpstart here. 💖💖

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” by Frank Sinatra

Word Count: 3.7K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hints of PTSD, flirting, dancing…

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Part 2: Devil May Care

After you got home from work the very next day, your apartment was entirely empty.

Predictable. Michael was still out.

This time, you counted it as a blessing. You rifled through every corner, cabinet, pocket, and drawer in search of evidence—anything you could use to prove, without even one shade of a doubt, that your husband was the unfaithful scoundrel you knew him to be. You knew it, deep in your gut. In your very soul.

You even rifled through Michael’s desk in his office, through every single folder, drawer, and booklet. You’d never done such a thing before because he was a particular man about his things, and you respected his privacy. 

That was done now. In your search, you found a useless ball of rubber bands and old coupons. You took his father’s old collection of fountain pens, which you knew Michael was precious about, and threw them haphazardly onto the desk to make room for your seeking hands through the rest of the drawers.

You even came across a small, crumpled photograph from your wedding day. This one made you pause.

You considered the picture, its bent corners and slightly grainy black and white lens. You’d worn your mother’s wedding dress, and you stared up at your new husband with the rosiest of smiles. He stared into your eyes then the way he always used to—like a man ready and willing to drown in them.

You sighed and let the picture fall from between your fingertips. It swayed onto the desk’s mahogany wood surface, and rested there. You shook your head and returned your attention to your task at hand, holding your hands to your hips.

The problem was, you didn’t see anything incriminating here…until an idea finally occurred to you. You went into Michael’s closet. You sorted through the suit jackets he still needed to get drycleaned and pressed again.

In one of the pockets, you found a receipt. 

You brought it to Sam Winchester’s office the following morning before work, along with some documents of your household expenses. Like you did the afternoon before, he identified the receipt as one for the Cotton Club, a nightclub in the Upper East Side. You had never been there in your life, but you heard it was one of the new go-to spots in town. It was the kind of place you used to wish Michael would take you to, once in a while.

“It could be a lead or it could be nothing, but I’ll check it out, along with these,” Sam said. He gathered the financial documents you gave him as well. 

“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Winchester,” you nodded.

“You can call me Sam if you like,” he said, kind, but still professional. You smiled. Unbidden, it reminded you of his brother.

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

Biting the inside of your lip, you gave into the urge to ask the question.

“It was nice of your brother to walk me home last night…what is he up to today then?”

“Ah, well, he’s out to lunch with a young lady he met last night,” Sam replied, with a somewhat wry, but still amused tone to his voice. You frowned.

“Last night? Does your brother meet a lot of women after 9:00 p.m.?” 

Sam chuckled. “He’s not usually wanting for company.”

“I see,” you said flatly. You should have known. The devil-may-care grin on that man was too charming to be anything less than the mark of a shameless flirt. Maybe even a scoundrel. Lord knew you couldn’t take any chances either way.

Dean returned from his day out with Vanessa. She was a nice enough girl, a knockout blonde too. She was smart, studying to be a schoolteacher. But she also tended to twitter on about frivolous things, so much that he couldn’t really remember much of what she said. She did look good doing it though. Not to mention, she let him feel her up while they kissed in one of the alleys, between the ice cream parlor and a drycleaners.

He predictably found his brother whittling away life in his office. Dean dropped his coat and hat on the hanger with a flourish. Sam raised his head from his work with an amused smile.

“Had a good day, did you?” he remarked.

“I can’t complain,” Dean agreed. “Especially when a beautiful woman’s involved.”

Sam shook his head. Before September, he hadn’t seen Dean in three years. Yet some things just didn’t change.

“You gonna see her again?” Sam asked.

Dean made a noncommittal sound. “We’ll see. The day is young, brother.”

Sam raised a finger. “Speaking of which. Mrs. Milligan came by this morning. I’ve been looking through her husband’s finances.”

“Oh really?” Dean sobered as he approached his brother’s desk. “What’d you find?”

“Overall, things seemed to be in order, until I noticed something strange,” Sam said. Dean lowered into the chairs opposite his brother at his desk, and they went over it all together. Sam appreciated another set of eyes on this, with the understanding that Dean would keep the information to himself. 

Starting roughly eleven months ago, there was a check signed to a Mr. Johnson for a moderate sum. Three weeks later, another check, this time a bit larger. For the past few months, Michael Milligan had been making these payments at least once a month, sometimes as much as three, albeit in different amounts.

“He might just have a gambling problem,” Sam said. He rubbed his chin in contemplation.

“Or it could be what she’s worried about,” Dean pointed out. “The name could be an alias. Maybe Mike’s paying for someone’s services…or paying her bills, if you catch my drift.”

Sam slowly nodded. “That’s a possibility.” He checked the dates on the documents again and shook his head. “Mrs. Milligan told me they got married about a year ago, here in the city. It would mean this guy started stepping out on her a month after the wedding.” 

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

A wall of sound. That was the Cotton Club—the band on stage playing jazz tunes, loudly, if skillfully; the clanking of glasses as drinks rolled past; the clamor of heels and leather shoes as couples swung on the dance floor; and the added layer of people raising their voices to compensate. The room was filled with the smell of cigarette smoke, fighting against perfume and cologne and musk and sweat.

It was a bit overwhelming for Dean at first. He tried to ease himself into the scene with Sam at his side, even if he did jolt at the cork of a champagne bottle popping open. Sam noticed, but he mercifully didn’t say anything. He thumped a hand on Dean’s back to steady him under the pretense of a brotherly pat, adding a smile for good measure.

Sam was there to keep a lookout for Michael Milligan. Dean would help, but it wasn’t like he was being paid for it. He was largely aiming to have some fun while his brother was all serious, focused on the work. Dean was here for the community nightlife. 

The beautiful, beautiful community. As a matter of fact, there were lovely ladies everywhere. One sultry blonde was singing an upbeat, jazzy tune at the mic. Dolores Daye, said the banner above the stage.

Dean’s attention shifted from the stage to the scattered round tables outside the dance floor, as well as the chair lined up at the bar. His gaze caught on someone familiar—on you, sat at a table by yourself. His eyes widened. He slowed to a stop while Sam went on ahead.

You were stunning, almost unrecognizable in a shimmering black dress that hugged every lush part of your figure, with sleeves that draped off your shoulders. His eyes drew down your crossed legs, the sheer pantyhose, leading to a pair of tall, shining black heels.   

You wore a hat and partial veil that covered half your face, but he knew it was you. Those lips of yours were familiar on sight. Now they were painted red, dark and luscious.

“Dean?” Sam questioned him. He’d turned back when he realized his brother wasn’t keeping up with him. Dean subtly pointed you out. Sam raised his brows, but then he noticed what you were doing. You had a glass of wine in hand, and you seemed to be watching someone.

Every now and then your gaze would travel across the room, where your husband Michael was sat at a table filled with other men and women. They were laughing, drinking, playing cards. 

Sam and Dean shared a conspiring look, one that said they had the same thought. They went over to you. 

Sensing you were being approached, you looked over and found the pair of tall, familiar men with a widening of your eyes. That pretty mouth of yours fell open in surprise. 

“What’re you doing here?” you whisper-hissed. You beckoned them to sit down so they weren’t standing out so much while talking to you. Both Winchester men were broad-shouldered and tall as oaks.

“The same thing you’re doing, apparently,” Sam said, once he and Dean were sitting across from you at the table. He showed you the camera he had hidden in his coat pocket. “I’m going to see if I can get a read on what your husband’s up to, maybe collect some evidence.”

You let out a rush of breath. “Good, thank you.”

“Until then, maybe you’d be more comfortable at home,” he suggested.

Dean knew what his brother was getting at. This wasn’t the kind of place for a woman to be hanging around…unaccompanied. Not a respectable one like you, who clearly wasn’t used to being in a roaring nightclub. Plus, if Michael did slip up here, it wasn’t exactly going to be pleasant for you.

You still shook your head stubbornly. “No. I want to see it with my own eyes.”

Sam almost sighed, but Dean shot him a nod. Right then, they had an understanding. Dean would stay and look out for you while Sam tried to get closer to Michael. Sam left you and Dean together at the table thereafter, and Dean ordered a drink for himself. You sipped at your wine.

Dean glanced at you in appreciation. You really were beautiful…and not just tonight. Though he had to smile at your “disguise.”

“You think that getup is gonna fool your husband?” he remarked, gesturing at your form.

Your lips pursed, but you kept your head angled towards him, so that your hat and veil continued to hide your face from Michael’s direction.

“It has so far,” you retorted. “And this isn’t a getup.”

You smoothed slightly self-conscious hands down the skirt of your dress. Dean smiled. 

“All right, I’m sorry. Poor choice of words,” he said. He dropped his chin and raised his brows, earning your gaze under the hat. “It’s quite a dress, sweetheart.”

I’d like to see you out of it, he thought, even though he immediately stamped it down. You weren’t exactly available, no matter how delectable you were. The interesting part was, you didn’t seem to realize it as you fidgeted in your seat, a little self-consciously.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you snipped.

His lips tugged at a smirk. He tilted your hat up a little so he could see more of your frowning face. 

“Want me to do better?” he teased. 

“I’d like you to leave me be. How about that?” you said, grabbing the edges of your hat and tilting it back down. “You’re distracting me.”

“Oh, I’m distracting?”

You met his gaze to give him a hot reply, but your words failed you. Just then, faced with his perfectly handsome, roguish face, you finally noticed how green his eyes were. Holding the gleaming reflection from the crystal chandelier above the bar, they briefly dragged over you again, like he was a starving man, and you were the very last morsel held in front of him.

It was indecent, you thought, but suddenly your mouth had gone dry.

“How about this,” Dean said. He finished off his whiskey and held out a hand to you. “Dance with me. You’ll have a better vantage point to spy on Mike over there.”

“Keep your voice down,” you shushed, glancing around.

Dean just smirked. He beckoned you again with a raise of his brows.

You hesitated, but you still eventually dropped your hand into his. He stood before you so he could help you to your feet. You allowed him to escort you over to the dance floor, and all the while you fought off your nerves. You were only doing this because he had a good idea; this would help you keep an eye on Michael without looking so out of place, a woman drinking alone at the table.

The band was playing a moderately paced song, which was good. You weren’t in this to be swept into the air.

“Relax,” Dean whispered, once he had you in his arms. His hands were respectably placed on your waist and in your hand. You knew you did have to relax though. Already you were too stiff while tentatively holding his hand, your other resting on his shoulder.

“I haven’t danced in—in a while,” you admitted. You were a little nervous as you began swaying with Dean, letting him lead you. He turned you about with ease, even twirling you under his hand.

“See? There’s nothing to it,” he said, welcoming you back into his arms. “When’s the last time you had some fun?”

You tilted your head as you thought about it. You and Dean shuffled about the dance floor in more complicated steps as the song increased in tempo. You were breathless in a good way. In a way that you couldn’t even remember needing to breathe as the golden lights sparkled in the corners of your eyes.

“He took me to a club like this once, about…I’d say month or so after we got married last year,” you admitted between spins. You had to hold a hand to your head to keep your hat on.

You were distracted enough by it all—the spinning, the laughter and tinkling glasses, the flashes of spotlight in between sultry dim shades, the heady smell of this man’s cologne, and his every touch, however brief on your body, but just as confident and measured. You actually told him the truth.

“I’ve been dying to get out more ever since, but…” you trailed as he spun you again, then winded you back into the growing familiarity of his arms.

Dean smoothly guided you even closer to him by your waist, until there was hardly any room between your chest and his, between your face and his. Your hand curled around the back of his neck on instinct, the edge of your nails just barely grazing through his hair. You wouldn’t know how it elicited a hot zing of sensation down his spine.

“Your husband really is blind, and even dumber than he looks,” Dean said, glancing down at your face. “I clocked you in five seconds flat, just by those pretty lips.”

You lowered your eyes, but not very far. They landed on his plush lips in contemplation. When your eyes met his again, Dean had a conundrum. He just didn’t think he cared all that much about the consequences.

His head began to bow towards yours, just when the song slowed to a stop. Almost without realizing it, he pressed his hand a little more insistently on the small of your back. You found yourself accepting that guiding pressure. Half-lidded eyes and heavy, mingled breaths in between…

“Let’s hear it again for Dolores Daye, everybody!” the host called out.

You snapped to attention and glanced over Dean’s shoulder at the singer. She waved goodbye to the crowd with a sensuous smile on her ruby red lips. Then she walked off stage in her glittering golden dress, and she grabbed hold of a man’s tie. That man was your husband.

Michael wore a wide smile on his face as she led him to his feet by his tie. He stood, his form looming over her, though she didn’t seem to mind—especially when his arm wrapped too familiarly around her waist.

It wasn’t the kind of embrace you would see between strangers, even for the sake of a good show for the crowd. Their faces became impossibly close, but it was just shy of a kiss as she laughed, a sound like fine crystal bells.

Dean noticed why you froze. He turned to look over his shoulder and his expression faded, becoming grim. He led you off the stage, and while keeping a discreet eye on the scene, he lingered at the bar in the center of the room. His arm stayed around your waist. He could tell himself it was to stay in character, but really, he just wanted to keep you grounded…that right now, you weren’t alone.  

Here by the bar, it was far enough that Michael likely wouldn’t notice you, but close enough that you both could hear what was happening.

The host stepped down from the stage and joined Dolores and Michael, laying a heavy hand on your husband’s shoulder. Yet another clue that Michael showed his face here all too frequently. The host waved over his entire table of friends, Sam included. He’d managed to get himself invited to sit with them.

“Come on. Join us out back,” said the host, gesturing behind the curtain.

“Where to?” Sam asked.

“For a card game or two, a little smoke, a nice little drink,” Michael said, grabbing Sam’s shoulder. “You in?”

Sam nodded. He glanced over and found Dean across the room with his eyes. They shared a brief, but telling look, after which Sam followed Michael and Dolores past the curtain discreetly. Meanwhile, you were already pulling away from Dean’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go,” you murmured.

You went back to the table to collect your purse. You left the rest of your wine there with a few bills on the table to cover it, and you were off, walking brusquely to the front doors. Dean followed suit, laying some money down for his own drink before he followed after you. The clerk at the front brought you your coat after you handed over your ticket, and Dean did the same.

“Hey, why don’t I take you home,” he said, having to raise his voice even here over the noise.

“No, thank you,” you said thickly.

After you had your coat on, you hastened to the closest bus stop outside the club. It was late, it was dark, and it was cold. You saw your fragile breath on the air as you stood there in your tall heels, and you held yourself for more than one reason as you fought off bitter tears.

You bit your lip and blinked against the burn, but you still had to swipe a few droplets quickly from your cheeks. You tried to even out your shallow breaths. It felt like someone had reached into your chest and started squeezing whatever they found. Whatever was left.

Dean sidled up to you with his hands in his pockets. You heaved a sharp sigh, recognizing him just by his shadow casting beside yours under the streetlamp. You kept your face away from him as you wiped at your tears.

“Why do you insist on watching me be miserable?” you asked. 

“Aw, come on, sweetheart.” He shook his head, carding a hand through his hair. “I know you’re upset. I just want to make sure you get home safe, that’s all. …You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to.” 

You slowly shot him a glance, but you didn’t budge. Your frown deepened along with your furrowed brows.  

“Dean, please. You don’t have to do this just because you feel sorry for me,” you said.

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” he said.

It earned your attention, your confused and hurt expression.

Dean met your gaze steadily. “I feel sorry for him. Because he doesn’t have a clue what he’s just lost.”

Your breath stilled in your lungs. 

His words touched you, more deeply than he probably realized. Part of you still wanted to give a sharp retort, that you didn’t need a chaperone. You didn’t need him to swoop in and collect you like broken glass…but a larger part of you craved the company. You didn’t want to be alone.

Soon enough, the next bus pulled up at the curb in front of you. The doors opened. 

Dean gestured with a sweeping hand towards the bus’s steps. 

Ladies first.

With another small sigh, you climbed up without a word. You even accepted his helping hand as you did so. Dean stepped up after you, and the doors closed behind you both.

AN: Welp, Happy Valentine's Day! 😅💜 Quite literally an angsty ride here, but what should happen on this bus going nowhere...

Next Time:

You admired his hands as they rested casually in his lap. They were larger than yours, with long fingers. His hands look strong and capable, like the rest of him, even though they were always considerate when they touched you.

“Then you should do something you like doing,” you said. “Fixing cars! That’s good, honest work you can make a living out of.”

Dean looked over at you. “You think so?”

You nodded your encouragement, smiling bright. “I know so. You might be a bit of a flirt, but you also look like someone who can accomplish whatever you set your mind to.”

When those words slipped free from your mouth, you realized how he might take that little accusation, let alone how overeager you sounded. Your gaze fell away from him as you felt your face getting warm in a blush.

Dean’s smile slid into a smirk. “I’m a flirt, huh?”

“Well…” You bit the inside of your lip and tried your hardest not to look at him for a while. “At least you’re an honest one.”

Dean laughed freely at that.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @impala-dreamer

[justgigity]

First Time with bf kento ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Cw: smut (obviously), p in v, oral (f receiving)

Summary: you’ve been dating kento for quite some time and you’re finally ready to take the next step. One problem, he’s completely oblivious.

“How the hell do you- ow!” You winced as your friend tightened the corset to your new lingerie set.

“Like that.” She grinned at you through the mirror before stepping back, admiring her work.

“Think it’ll work?”

“If it doesn’t, dump him.”

Truth is, you’d been trying to tempt your boyfriend for weeks. He’s a gentlemen, really. He’s careful and doting, opening doors and spoiling you till his wallet lacks its usual weight. But there’s just something missing-

“Sex?” Your boyfriend stands before you with a raised brow.

“Y-yes…I’m asking for sex, is that so hard to believe?” You look away in a mix of shame and arousal. Standing in front of him in this lingerie is something you’d never imagine would happen when you two first met.

“I just- wasn’t sure you were ready..” and it’s his turn to be embarrassed, maybe for the first time since you’ve met him. He’s usually so composed..

“You weren’t sure? The other day I nearly deep throated a popsicle in hopes you’d get the fucking hint!-“ you stop yourself, you’re getting too riled up over something so trivial.

“Sorry- sorry I just…I was-“

“Too scared to tell me directly what you needed?”

“Hey- I’m not the one who’s been acting all dense!” In one swift movement, he pushes you against your dresser.

“Do you know how long I held back?” He grips your chin.

“W-what..?” Before you can question him any further, he’s crashing his lips against you.

“Mm!- mm…” you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him down to your level. He pulls back, disconnecting your lips with a small ‘pop!’ And picks you up, rough calloused fingers digging into your thighs.

“I think I got the hint now.”

“Oh- really?” You roll your eyes, sarcasm filling your voice.

“Don’t get bratty, or I’ll hold out on you much longer.”

“As if- you look like you’re ready to devour me. No way you can hold back any longer”

“You wanna test that theory?” He retorts quickly

“…no.”

He chuckles

“Good girl..” he leaned down, peppering kisses on your inner thighs

“This is cheap material…not good for your skin” he mumbles as his hands run over the corset

“Be grateful-“

“Shh, let me take it off for you. I’ll buy you something of higher quality…can’t have my girlfriend wearing cheap lingerie.” You want to roll your eyes, if only he wasn’t so fucking hot like this. His fingers tug at both sides of your lacy sheer panties, tugging them down and carefully folding them off to the side.

“Seriously?” You raise a brow and a smile tugs at his lips.

“I’m messing with you..” he takes no time tearing the rest of the lingerie off you like a kid rushing to rip open his presents on Christmas morning. His eyes seem to soften as they scan over your body. he gently cups your breast, kissing the skin as if you were made out of glass. His delicate actions make you soften too.

“Nanami..”

“Shh baby…let me worship you, let me give you everything I’ve deprived you of..” with that, he leans down. Now face to face with your pussy.

“Hi.”

“…are you talking my pussy?-“

“Shh, baby. Don’t be rude..” he continues the greeting with a kiss to your clit, causing you to tense. He gently runs his tounge up your slit and once again to meet your clit. Keeping your thighs spread with his hands, sure to leave crescent indents from his nails. He leans closer, his mouth connecting to your entrance as his nose bumps against your clit, and you’re sure you’ve never seen the man so desperate. You’re his new favorite meal, and he’s oh so hungry. His tounge pressing into your hole, feeling the warmth envelop him. It only takes him about 7 minutes before your squeezing your thighs around his head, squealing.

“Nanami! c-cumming!” You throw your head back, gripping the sheets under you as you yell out his name like a prayer. He continues his movements for moments after, letting you ride it out till you’re pushing him away in desperation.

“W-where the hell did you learn that…?”

“I read a lot.” He pulls back. He gently adjusts the two of you, he strips his own clothes off. You swear you’re in heaven, because he looks just like an angel right infront of you. His body looking jaw droppingly handsome in the dim llight of your bedroom. But just wait till he wips it out. The sound of his zipper and pants dropping is followed by a somewhat dramatic gasp. He’s around 6 inches. And he’s oh so pretty. His girth is enough to make you contemplate calling off work tomorrow. The tip is already leaking beads of precum down his cock. You can only assume he was that way the whole time he ate you out. You reach out, and he allows you to stroke him, precum glistening on your hands now. He pulls your hand away.

“It’ll feel better somewhere else.” He lays you back down, aligning his glistening tip with your needy hole.

“Can’t believe I’ve waited this long..” he slowly moves his hips, watching your reaction until his pelvis is flush against yours.

“Are you…ok?” He groans out. He doesn’t know how he’s deprived himself of such bliss. You almost want to laugh, but decide against it in hopes of not ruining the atmosphere he’s created for the two of you.

“I’m fine just…give me a second or two” you smile up at him. You can feel the stretch of his cock filling you, even without moving he’s managed to press against spots you weren’t even aware existed.

“Now.” You speak up, holding his hand tightly. Nanami slowly pulls his hips back, and forth…setting a slow pace, speeding up little by little as he examines your face for any signs of discomfort.

“You feel so good, my pretty girl…so- fucking good..” he groans, his cock already twitching inside you. His tip rubbing against your g spot, fat cock stretching you so good.

“Nanami- right…right there, please” you whine.

“Here?” He angles his hips.

“Y-yes! Oh fuck- yes, please” he grins at your pleading. You’ve never seen him so..devious. He’s fucking into you at a faster pace now, the sound of your whines and skin slapping against skin fill the room. You clench around him as you feel a familiar tingle.

“W-wait I think- think I’m gonna-“ you can’t even finish your sentence before you’re a moaning squirming mess, nanami follows suit not longer after.

“Oh fuck- fuck- I love you so much” he groans as his cock twitches, leaking ropes of cum one after the other into your pretty pussy. He slowly pulls back to watch it drip from your leaky hole.

“So pretty…you’re so pretty..” he collapses next to you, going limp as he clings to you. You smile, moving his hair out of his forehead to plant a kiss there. You contemplate something before whispering to him with a mischievous grin.

“I love you too…one more round?”

[hoonquette]

standing still, sunghoon loves you and you love his attention.

PARK SUNGHOON × toxic ! fem ! r 𓈒 ㅤㅤ angst (kind of) situationship 【 842 】 ㅤ ── ㅤ incl. lwk lovebombing from reader unproofread writing.

AMOR.ㅤ love toxic enha but what about toxic reader !! lwk based off of jenny by the click five

you shuffle across your wooden floor, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. you debate for the third time on whether or not you should open the door, before ultimately deciding to pull it open. you almost shut it immediately, a frown forming on your face.

because standing at your door, staring at you with the saddest eyes you've ever seen, is park sunghoon.

for what is probably the fifth time this week. why were you expecting anything different? no sane person would show up to your apartment this early in the day.

sighing, you rub your temple. "sunghoon, it's not even eight yet."

"sorry, i know. um—" he clears his throat, "can we talk?"

"about what?"

you know exactly what he wants to talk about. it's the same thing he's been wanting to talk about for the last two weeks, the same thing you've been avoiding. you mentally prepare yourself for what you know is coming and the argument that's no doubt going to follow.

"i— come on, you know what." he says your name softly, to which you raise an eyebrow and he relents. "i wanna talk about us."

"there's no us, sunghoon."

"you act like there is before you ghost me."

you wince, looking away from him. "i treat you normally, not like my boyfriend."

a total lie because you do act like sunghoon is your boyfriend, who wouldn't? he likes you and treats you well enough. you just aren't ready for another relationship—at least, not the committed one that he wants. maybe in another universe you found him first, and maybe you're in a happy relationship, but that's not what happened in this one.

"because getting pissed at me when a girl asks for my number is normal, right? are making out and sleeping in the same bed normal too now?"

"oh my god, can you let that go? i told you why i got mad." you step outside, shutting the door to your apartment. maybe having this conversation in the very public hallway isn't a good idea, but you'll be damned if you let him inside.

you don't bother refuting his other points because you know he's right, and there's no way you can spin it to fit the just friends narrative you have going on for you.

sunghoon scoffs and runs a hand through his hair, like he wasn't the one who started everything. if he didn't want to get annoyed then he should've stayed home, you think to yourself.

his voice is rough when he speaks, "you make no sense at all. can you just be straight up with me? quit stringing me along."

"you're the one who has all kinds of hope for whatever," you gesture between the two of your bodies, "this is. i never said we were going to date."

"but you did say you loved me."

"i— sunghoon, seriously, of course i love you. we've been friends for, like, ever."

the look he gives you almost makes you want to laugh. not out of amusement, but out of shock. he's never looked at you with that much distaste and hurt in his life, not even after he found out you got back with your ex last year.

"you know that's not how you meant it and i know that for a fact."

you didn't say it platonically, but you also didn't say it romantically. in all honesty, you only said it to make him stay with you.

"what do you want me to say?"

"just let me move on if you really don't love me, okay? i can't keep doing this situationship shit with you."

you hate to hurt him, that you keep pulling him along on a ride that you don't even know is going anywhere meaningful, and a small part of you wants him to move on. however, a twisted and much larger part of you doesn't want him to. you don't want him to find somebody else—the thought of that makes you sick—and you definitely don't want to lose what you have with him, even if he doesn't like it.

stepping forward, you grab his hand, bring in up to cup your cheek and he lets you. you can see his features soften when you place a gentle kiss against the palm of his hand. "look, okay—i'm sorry, hoon. i don't know, i'm not ready for a relationship right now. i'm too busy, you know?"

you're not that busy.

he nods, "yeah, i get it. fuck, it just sucks to be in this situation. i really like you."

you know he does, and it sucks that he chose you as his person, but what can you do about it?

you can tell he's calmed down, that he's over his bad mood by how his shoulders relax and how he smiles at you. it's a smile that's only reserved for you and you take pride in that fact.

"i really like you too." you smile at him, another lie you're using to keep him. "give me some time, okay?"

[cottonlemonade]

Tsukki’s Pining

word count: 753 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tsukishima x popular chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: Hi I would love For breakfast and dinner to have a #14 to study possibly at the museum with Tsukishima. Thank you so much! Love your writing sm. It's been helping me destress these last few days 💞 || fluffy, part-time job with rival crush Tsukishima

Your popularity was of great annoyance to Tsukishima.

Every couple of steps there seemed to be yet another person you knew that drew you into yet another pointless conversation, distracting you from your job and, ultimately, him.

It was only natural for the two top students of the department to get the highly sought-after internships at the museum and while at first he thought you wanted to work in the same areas as he did to spite him, he quickly found he really didn’t mind spending more time with you alone. At least that’s what a not-so-quiet, but quickly suppressed, corner of his brain said.

Unfortunately, however, every other day there was some guy, looking lost at the exhibits and lighting up when he saw you. He’d come over and strike up an excited conversation, and you’d giggle or hug him even until, eventually, you’d wave a merry goodbye.

Unlike most other people in the department, Tsukishima didn’t have a crush on you - officially. His heart didn’t flutter when you looked at him, his brain function wasn’t restricted when you gave him a smile, and he could easily form full sentences packed full of sarcasm and pettiness in your presence - officially.

In reality, much like everyone else, he had quickly fallen for your charm. With your witty nature and passion for the subject, he had caught (and scolded) himself too many times staring at you during lectures and study sessions, clenching his jaw when he saw you walking hand in hand with another winner over the campus, and he didn’t even have to pretend to be sick to his stomach when he found you making out in the back of the library - annoyingly, right in front of a book he needed. The guy had looked as if he didn’t even know how to spell pterodactyl, and the mental image popping up from that memory still made his blood boil.

Today wasn’t any different. You were both currently deeply engrossed in a discussion about the possible layout for a new exhibit when some stocky dark-haired guy with a megawatts smile and unaware expression beelined to you.

“Y/n! Fancy meeting you here.”

You chuckled in that charming way of yours and noted, “At the place where I work?”

The guy joined in your laughter, not the least bit embarrassed, and stepped closer, only to notice Tsukishima’s cold eyes on him.

“Oh hey! You’re Bunazawa, right?”

“Tsukishima.”, the tall blonde corrected him with a twitch of his brow.

“Ah. Well, I was close.” The other guy said good-naturedly.

“How is tha-“

You interrupted, “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to ask if you wanna come out tonight. I would have texted, but I know you can’t carry your phone with you during work.”

“Sure, I’d love to.”

“Awesome!”

Tsukishima longed for the world that existed 2 minutes ago. Back when he didn’t have to witness you making some jock blush with a simple tilt of your head.

Especially now, as the guy turned to him, obviously in the mood for bonding - an attempt that he very much wanted to smother immediately.

“So, you also study pal-pealeo-pa-paleonlo- dinosaur science?”

Tsukishima had the perfect retort ready, one that would make this guy sorry for ever even considering to procreate when you took his hand to stop him, squeezing it while you kept your small talk going. His skin tingled, his palm felt too sweaty, and he didn’t hear anything you or the guy even said until he was already leaving. And you let go of him again.

Now that his thoughts became linear once more, he couldn’t help himself, “Dinosaur science? Really?”

You smirked at his judgy tone and had the audacity to shrug and reply, “What can I say? He’s a great kisser.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”, Tsukishima grumbled, “And start telling your boyfriends to stop coming here and interrupting our work. It’s annoying to have them drool over you all the time.”

You studied his face for a second with a knowing smile. “What, you don’t agree with them?”, you teased and struck a pose, hands on your pudgy hips.

Every muscle in his face protested when he suppressed a smile, “To me, you’re one of those chubby cats on social media rolling on the floor and chasing leaves.”

“Are you calling me fat?”, you asked, jokingly.

No, I was calling you cute, you idiot., he thought, but would sooner go out with one of your fans himself than admit that out loud.

art: the insanely talented @freaka-loonyz on Instagram

a/n: this is the last request of the university event! Thank you so, so much to everyone who requested, and so sorry to the people who had to wait months for their request to get done!! I hope you, dear anon who asked for this one, liked it, and thank you for your kind words! 🌟

I will take a bit of a break from request games because this one took so much out of me for no reason! 🥲

Special thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for helping me figure this one out 🫶🏻✨

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

She Calls Me Back

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: a long-distance relationship with dean while you’re at college may be harder than it seems

pairing: (pre s1) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language, pre-smut

word count: 3.1k

warnings: language, dean has abandonment issues but wbk, john being a horrible father (again, wbk), pre-smut/light smut

author’s note: this is going to be my last dean fic for a long while. i wrote it several months ago but here ya go!

music: she calls me back by noah kahan (with kacey musgraves) —

“P-Promise me you’ll come back, okay?” Dean said, hugging you as if he’d never see you again.

“Of course, Dean,” you replied, squeezing him right back. You were leaving for college, hoping to be done with hunting.

“I love you so much, you know that, right?” he told you.

“I love you so much, too, Dean,” you said. “And I’ll call you all the time, okay? I’ll call you so much you’ll be sick of my voice by the time we see each other again.”

“Not fuckin’ possible,” he countered.

The bus pulled up to the stop and you let go of Dean; “This is where I get on.”

“Stay safe,” he said and kissed your forehead before watching you board the bus. You waved at him through the window and he waved back, not letting himself admit how much this was going to hurt him.

**

Three days. It had been three whole days and you hadn’t called him yet. Something must be wrong.

He decided to give you a call, but you didn’t pick up.

“Hey, you’ve reached Y/n, sorry I can’t make it to the phone right now, I’m probably being a badass and hunting monsters. Leave a message at the beep. Or don’t, it’s up to you.”

“Hey hun, it’s Dean… but I guess you know that. Uhm, it’s been a few days since hearing from you, just let me know you’re okay,” he said. 

He waited another day before he tried calling you again.

“Hey, you’ve reached Y/n, sorry I can’t make it to the phone right now, I’m probably being a badass and hunting monsters. Leave a message at the beep. Or don’t, it’s up to you.”

“Sweetheart, call me back please,” he said. “I’m gettin’ worried here and I need to know you’re okay. If you’re ghosting me on purpose please let me know and I’ll stop calling. I just… I need to know you got to Boston safely.”

**

It had been nearly a week since he had seen you when he finally got the call.

“Y/n?” he answered his phone on the first ring.

“Hey, Dean,” you replied. “I’m so sorry for not calling you earlier; my phone charger broke on the bus ride, then the outlets in my dorm weren’t working, then–”

“I get it,” he stopped your ranting. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m not okay, Dean,” you admitted

“What? What’s wrong? Did something follow you to MIT?”

“No,” you laughed a little. “I just meant that I’m not okay because I miss you so much.”

“You shoulda specified that way quicker, sweetheart!” he exclaimed.

“Sorry,” you said. 

He paused, running a hand down his face as he took a deep breath; “I miss you too,” he said. “Like… a lot.”

“If you wanna come visit me sometime that’d be cool,” you suggested. 

“Really? You’d be okay with that? I wouldn’t like… embarrass you in front of all your new friends?”

“Honestly I kinda wanna show you off, you’re like stupid hot, remember?”

He laughed; “Well, I guess I need to find a case close to you so I have an excuse for dropping in.”

“Sounds perfect, handsome,” you replied. “Though, for the record, you don’t need an excuse for visiting me, Dean, you’re always welcome to stop by.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiled. 

Though his heart clenched, this seemed all too familiar to him. During Sam’s first few months at Stanford, he would make time to fill Dean in on his life—the classes he was taking, gossip that Dean was all too interested in, even what he’d eaten for lunch that day. But that eventually stopped when Sam started making more and more friends of his own, getting himself a whole new world to live in and leaving Dean out in the cold.

He didn’t want the same thing to happen to you, you weren’t just his girlfriend you were his best friend. He loved talking with you for hours on end while you sat in the passenger seat of his beloved car. He loved how you’d turn the radio up when you liked a song, how you’d gaze out the window when Mother Nature was looking particularly lovely, or how you would put your head on his shoulder when you got tired. 

He loved you so completely that he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Even the thought of you not being right next to him at that moment made his heart hurt; hearing your voice wasn’t enough, he wanted to hold you. 

Sam still called his older brother once in a while, just to be sure Dean was okay. But they both knew it was more of a formality at this point. Dean knew Sam was just checking in to know whether he was alive or not.

“Damn it, I gotta go,” you told Dean.

“Already?” He tried to mask his utter disappointment, but you still heard the heartbreak in his voice.

“I’m so, so sorry, hun, I just realized I have this event I have to get to,” you said. He furrowed his brows, listening to the sound of you hurrying to get your things together. 

“An event, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s for this math class I’m in,” you said. “I’m really sorry Dean, I’ll call you later tonight, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you so much, Dean.”

“I love you too, buh-bye.”

“Bye.”

**

When you got back from the “math class event” your phone was dead again. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you groaned when it wouldn’t charge and made a mental note to buy a new one before the end of the week.

All you wanted was to call Dean, to hear his voice, but at this moment it seemed hopeless. You figured he probably wasn’t staying up waiting for you to call, so you decided to continue with your new nightly routine of showering, brushing your teeth, watching something fun and not monster-related on your new laptop, and hitting the sack.

As you worked through each step of your routine, Dean sat up in his motel bed many miles away, waiting for your call.

He decided to call you and, again, all he got was your fucking voicemail box.

**

The next day you went out and bought a phone. The first thing you did was put in all of Dean’s numbers. The second thing you did was call him.

“You’ve reached Dean, you know the drill.”

“Hey Dean, it’s Y/n. My other phone is officially broken so that’s why I couldn’t call you last night, I hope I didn’t worry you. Please call me when you get a chance; my first class isn’t until noon today so that gives you about three hours. My last class ends at five but I have another event so I might not be able to talk much later. I love you so much and I miss your voice, so if you get my voicemail just… leave a cute message or something I dunno. I love you, Dean. Bye.”

**

“Hey, you’ve reached Y/n! Leave a message at the beep.” Your new outgoing message made Dean sigh. 

“Hey, gorgeous, I saw you called on this new number, sad I missed you but I guess that’s what I get for sleepin’ in,” he laughed humorlessly. “You wanted me to leave a cute message and I gotta be honest… not sure what that means. I love you though, and I miss you like crazy. Hope you’re not having too much fun over there… joining a sorority… partying with the football team…” He caught himself rambling; “I-I’m sorry. I love you, call me when you can.”

**

“This is Dean’s other other cell, you know what to do.”

“This is the last number you’ve got, honey, where are you?” you said. “We keep missing each other, how fuckin’ stupid is that? I wanna tell you about one of my professors, he’s very anti-paranormal and it’s hilarious. I’m all set up in my room, I’ve got my landline plugged in and your picture by my bed. My roommate is pretty cool, she has a record player and put up a Kurt Cobain poster today, I think you two would get along. Who knows maybe this living on campus thing won’t be so bad after all. Although, testing to see if she’s a monster was not a great ice breaker and spilling holy water on someone is not forgiven lightly. Tests all went well though, she’s human. I hope Sammy’s doing the same stuff over at Stanford and that he hasn’t forgotten his ‘hunting roots’. Well…” you sighed, “I miss you Dean, and I’ve gotta be honest it’s not that fun over here. Yet, anyway; I know you were joking but I am trying to get into a sorority. Please call me when you get this. Bye.”

**

“Dean?” you answered the call.

“Oh my god, it’s really you!” Dean exclaimed, making you laugh. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“I miss you!” you whined. “And I haven’t made a single friend! Unless you count my roommate, but she’s basically stuck with me, so.”

“It’ll get better,” Dean assured you. “Sammy had trouble too the first few weeks; just give yourself some time and before you know it you’ll be the most popular girl in school.”

“Oh god, I hope not!” you laughed. “What I want is to find some common ground to stand on with these people but I have no idea how to socialize with someone and not bring up monsters.”

“Sammy had some trouble with that too, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But again, give it time. You’ll get used to the college life sooner or later.”

“One thing I won’t get used to is not seeing you every night,” you said. A small smile formed on his lips at the thought of you still missing him. “I feel homesick without you.”

“Really? You miss me that much?”

“...Yeah? Is that silly?” you hesitated to ask. 

“No! No, I miss you like crazy, too.” He cleared his throat a little; “I um, I’m actually about half a day’s drive from you. Do you have time to grab some coffee tomorrow morning?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, a little too loudly and he instinctively pulled the phone from his ear for a second. “I mean… yeah, sure it’s like… whatever.”

He laughed; “You’ve already shown your cards, sweetheart and you’re clearly excited to see me.”

“Whatever,” you continued to tease. “I know you’re excited to see me, too.”

“That I am sweetheart,” he sighed. “I’m gonna see you and hug you and kiss you and… fuck you.”

“Strong words comin’ from a guy who’s still half a day’s drive away!” you mocked. 

“Oh I’m closer than you think, sweetheart.”

A loud knock hit your door.

“Hold on Dean, someone’s at the door,” you told him.

“That’s alright, I’ll hold. Just don’t hang up,” he said.

“Of course not!” you all but scoffed. “I’m sure it’s just a package or one of Katy’s friends, she seems to know a lot of people.”

“Katy?”

“Oh my roommate, did I not tell you her name?”

The door to your place didn’t have a peephole so you took your chances with opening the door.

You were met with none other than Dean Winchester himself, standing there with a huge grin; “I’m here to see Katy.” 

“My god am I glad to see you,” you mumbled. The phone slipped from your hand, hitting the floor and probably breaking. You didn’t give two shits about the phone, but you gave a lot more than two shits for the man you wrapped up in a tight hug. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his wrapped around your torso.

“Hey babe,” he mumbled against your cheek as he kissed you there. “Missed you.”

“How dare you make me think I wouldn’t see you till tomorrow,” you replied. 

“Are you gonna let me in or—”

You cut him off by kissing his plush lips deeply, yours curving into a smile at the familiar touch. You both stumbled through the door, neither wanting the kiss to end, and Dean kicked the door closed, locking it once again.

“Can’t believe it’s only been a couple of weeks since I’ve seen you,” he laughed humorlessly.

“Too long.”

He nudged you onto the bed and you fell backward onto your mattress. He shrugged off his jacket and flannel as you swiftly took your sweatpants off. You took your shirt off next as he rid himself of his as well. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, taking in the beautiful site of you in a bra and panties. He didn’t have enough patience to get his pants off and couldn’t help joining you on the bed, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He trailed his lips down your neck and rested his forehead on your chest; “Wowza, I missed these, how’ve you two been?”

“Dean–”

“Excuse me,” he stopped you, briefly looking into your eyes from where he was hovering over your breasts, “if you don’t mind, we’re trying to have a conversation, here!”

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes, scoffing at his ridiculous behavior.

“Now where were we…” He looked back down at your boobs before he began kissing every visible inch of them, leaving marks that you were sure would last for days.

**

About twenty-five minutes and three earth-shattering highs later, Dean rolled off (and out) of you before resting his head on the pillow next to you. 

“Dean, I’ve been thinking…” you started, flipping to your side so you could look him in the eyes.

“Wonders never cease!” he teased, earning a playful slap to his left arm with your right hand.

“Should I bother with this whole college thing? It’s not too late to drop out and go back to hunting.”

“What? Why would you wanna do that? I thought MIT was your dream?”

“It was until…”

“Until what, babe?” He looked back at you, thoroughly confused as he put his left hand on your right cheek.

“Until I realized how much I hate sleeping without you,” you whispered, causing him to smile sadly. “I miss you all the time, Dean.”

“I know the feeling,” he mumbled. 

“And we’ve only been apart two weeks! That’s nothing! What’s gonna happen when we have to go two months without seeing each other? How—“

He cut you off with a swift kiss; “We'll figure it out, I promise. Besides, it was just extra hard this time because we couldn’t talk over the phone; once we get a bit of a schedule going, it’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

“But… what if we can’t handle this long-distance thing?” you wondered. “What if things change between us because I’m at this stupid college?”

Dean sighed before he pulled you closer and onto his chest; “It’s not stupid. I know you don’t wanna be a hunter for the rest of your life and this place is your ticket out! It might even be a ticket out for me too, if you think about it.”

“How’s that?”

“Well… fast forward five or ten years; we’re still together, maybe we’re married, and you’re making bank because you’re a genius, so I can afford to be a stay-at-home trophy husband who hunts sometimes if he wants.”

“Sounds perfect to me. As long as you exclusively wear gray sweats and unbuttoned flannels when you lounge around the house, then I’ll spoil you with all my riches,” you teased.

“Think I could manage that,” he laughed lightly.

Picturing a future like that with Dean truly did sound perfect and the idea that he had dreams about that kinda thing made your smile deepen.

“These years are gonna fly past us and before you know it we’ll be able to settle down like that,” Dean said. “So you keep doing your nerd thing and I’ll keep doing my badass thing, okay?”

“Mkay,” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest. “Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“As much as I wanna stay tangled up like this, we should get dressed in case my roommate comes back soon.” 

He sighed dramatically as you sat up, quickly kissing his lips before you put your shirt back on. 

Timing truly was on your side, because the second you were both presentable your roommate knocked on the door.

“Hey, I forgot my key, could you please open up?” she called from the other side.

You did as she asked and her eyes widened when she saw Dean.

“Katy, this is my boyfriend; Dean, this is my roommate, Katy,” you introduced them.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Dean,” she said.

“Likewise,” he replied, shaking her hand. “Nice record player you’ve got there.”

**

You’d been at university for nearly six months and had truly gotten used to the life. Your grades were phenomenal and you managed to make quite a few friends.

The one thing that didn’t sit right with you was your relationship with Dean. You both knew it was on the back burner as of right now.

It broke your heart, thinking of Dean all alone out there with his dad. You knew he needed you, you hated not seeing him all the time and you hated how far you two had drifted.

You actually weren’t sure why he hadn’t just called things off with you, you only called him once a week.

But every message he left was still nothing but ‘I love you’s and ‘I miss you’s, which warmed your heart. 

Your alarm went off and it pulled you out of your thoughts; it was time for your weekly catch-up with Dean.

“This is Dean, leave your name, number, and nightmare at the beep.”

Of course, you only got his voicemail box.

**

Dean watched his phone ring, watched your name flash on the screen.

“Don’t answer that,” John said.

“I can’t just…”

“You have to! She and Sammy are no longer hunters Dean,” John exclaimed. “They both chose to leave the life, leave us.”

“But she’s didn’t leave me, Dad.” Dean watched as his cell sent you to voicemail. “I still see a future with her, a life; kids, barbeques, mini-vans–”

“You can’t talk like that,” John snapped at him. “You can’t have that life, Dean.”

“But, maybe–”

“No! You are a hunter through and through,” he said. “And when Y/n went off to college, she killed any future you two had together because she chose to quit hunting! Don’t you get that?”

“Maybe you’re right,” Dean sighed. 

“I am.”

**

“Hey Dean, I guess you’re busy being a badass…” you chuckled humorlessly and Dean’s heart broke as he listened to the message you left.