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justmeinadaze · 2 days ago

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Curiosity (Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: When I tell you that this did things to me...omg.

I was going to do a one shot but there's a few stories to tell with this two (and I love them already so bleh!)

There is a small glimpse into future steddie activity ;)

I dedicate this to the older girlies looking for their own Eddie Munson <3

Warnings: Younger (Early 20s) Daddy (kinda camboy) Eddie & Older (early 30s) Plus Size Sub Fem Y/N, SMUT, SO MUCH dirty talk <3, daddy kink (cause I'm me), praise, semi-public (back of his van), big dick Eddie Munson, squirting, etc. FLUFF, these two work together and talk about being each others "work spouses".

ANGST, Y/N stumbles upon Eddie's "second job" on OnlyFans, struggles with the notion of telling him, reader (like myself) makes jokes about being older, weight doesn't play a factor in here and its barely mentioned. Eddie does say how beautiful and sexy he thinks her body is. I think that's it.

The main angst here is her stumbling onto his account and not telling him.

Word Count: 7874

Donate to Me <3

"Yeah, she's got those pretty eyes

But behind them lies

Thoughts of him at night she can't seem to fight

Feelings that she knows she's gonna have to feed"

You hated call center work but it paid alright and it was something you could do while you worked towards your goals of becoming something more. While the work and customers were tedious, the environment wasn’t too bad. Your manager was a sweet girl a little younger than you and the company did a bit more for its employees than the typical “You did well this quarter. Here’s a pizza party.”

Your head falls on to your desk as you hang up the phone after one of the rudest customer experiences in your life.

A slight draw back was, like your manager, a lot of the coworkers around you were younger, ranging from just graduating high school to their mid-twenties. Listening to most of these kids talk made you feel old as hell which is part of the reason you connected to the boy on the opposite side of your cubicle.

While Eddie Munson was in his early twenties, he had a slightly older soul. When he wasn’t talking to you or anyone else, he had hair metal playing in his headphones and even had that long, wild hair to match. He talked about things you remembered growing up with fondly as if he was born around the same time and when you questioned him about it, he just said he was “raised right.”

“Fun chat?”, he teased as he leaned back in his seat.

“Exciting!”, you mumbled into your arm that your head was resting on.

Eddie’s warm laugh filled your ears as his palm extended out to rub your back.

“I know, sweetheart. These fucking people can be real pricks sometimes.”

“Edward Munson.”

“Mrs. Angela.”

“Language. Just because you aren’t on the phone doesn’t mean people can’t hear you on the other end.”

You laughed as you sat up, meeting his radiate grin as he chuckles.

“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Angela. I apologize for the foul mouth I was born with.”

Your manager mumbles a soft mhmm and he continues to smile as he leans in closer to speak at a much softer volume.

“Don’t let these people walk all over you. Remember, they need your help.”, he winks before lightly poking your nose.

As the day came to a close and you both walked out together, you asked him what his plans were for the evening and he responded the same way he always did.

“Um, probably going to put in some hours at my second job. I want to put in more recording time this weekend and the fucking manager at the studio is demanding we put down payments before we can use the equipment. It’s fucking stupid. I mean it’s not like we’re taking the stuff home.”

“One day, you’ll have to let me hear you play.”, you smile his way as you throw your things into your car.

“And one day you’ll finally accept my invitation to come see us play on stage.”, he grins as he opens your car door and rests his chin on the top while he watches you put your things away.

“I think I’m too old to be hanging out in a bar.”, you giggle.

“Says who? Definitely not me because if I met a pretty lady like you at The Hideout she’d never go home alone again.”

Eddie’s smile widens and he sticks out his tongue through his teeth as you roll your eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, weirdo.”

“Bye, babe.”

After he closed your door, your eyes followed him as he pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit the end on his way to his van.

He really was a good man and utterly adorable. People in the office called him your work husband which gave you secondhand embarrassment till he himself began playing into the role.

“Hey now Mrs. Angela, don’t talk to my work wife that way. Don’t worry, baby girl, I got your back.”, he joked with the manager as he slid his arm around your shoulders.

Eddie made you laugh constantly and when you had a hard day, he was your sound board allowing you to vent. A part of you felt guilty because he seemed to know more about you than you did about him besides the fact that he wanted to be a rockstar.

You genuinely did want to hang out with him outside of work but the insecure part of you couldn’t help but always wonder why he’d even want to spend his free time with someone your age when he could be giving his attention to any of the slimmer, more attractive women his own age.

The sound of him slamming his car door brought you back into the moment as you pushed your gear into reverse and sped to your home.

***

“Hey, can I use your laptop to watch a movie in bed?”, you ask your roommate as her heels click along the floor behind where you were sitting on the sofa.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re doing with your Thursday night?”

“Relaxing after a long day at the office? Yes, Kelsey.”

“Why don’t you go out on a date or something?”

“So is that a yes or…?”

Your roommate sighs as she scurries somewhere before she wiggles the device in your peripherals and you thank her.

“Don’t judge me when you open it. I was watching this sexy guy on Only Fans. Hot damn.”, she swooned making you laugh as she quickly hugged you and hurried towards the door. “I love you! Don’t wait up for me!”

Shaking your head, you take her laptop and throw yourself on your mattress as you flip it open.

Images of cute people caught your attention and you couldn’t stop yourself as you nonchalantly began to browse. You had never signed up for one of these let alone really knew anything about the platform besides the obvious. You weren’t a prude by any means, you had just never gone down avenues like this.

There were probably millions of people on this site… so the chances of your eyes landing on a face you knew had to be astronomical.

Yet as you clicked a “featured” link, a face you very much recognized appeared front and center.

Eddie or as the name read, EddietheBanished, was smirking up at the camera with his upper torso bare showing off all the muscle you were completely unaware he had.

You should have let it go; respected his boundaries and closed the browser but it was like autopilot moved you as you clicked his link.

There he was.

The metalhead was sitting at a desk in what you assumed was his bedroom with his head hanging and hair in front of his face as he strummed his guitar. Shaking his mane, his gorgeous eyes met the camera before that sexy smile painted his lips.

“I see a lot of new ‘faces.’ Welcome. I’m a nice guy I swear. I’ll be getting started here in a minute so take your time, relax, get comfy.”

You immediately backed out and slammed the computer shut, powerwalking into your kitchen to get a glass of wine.

“No, no Y/N. He’s your friend and your coworker. Don’t invade that boundary. Don’t…”

As you took a sip of your beverage, you glared at the device that felt like it was taunting you from your bed.

“Maybe…I can make my own account and just…see what he does. Maybe he just plays guitar without his shirt on. People do that right?”

Sitting back down, you reopened the laptop and logged out of your roommates account, selecting to create your own.

“Name…name…I need a name…”

Um CurvyCorporateMillennial.

“God that’s dumb.”, you sigh at your internal thought as you upload a picture of a random flower as your profile pic and search for his name after you set everything set up.

“Alright, friends, you know the drill. You get an hour to ask me questions and tip if you wish. The private group session will begin after.”

Over the course of the hour, you listened to him talk about music and his instrument, strumming along to random songs you definitely recognized, making you smile as you watched his fingers moved. Eddie was incredibly charming, replying off every innuendo with something cute or sassy in return. You enjoyed the regular answers more than anything as he came out of his shell a bit differently than he did at work.

“Yeah, a lot of these tattoos I got because I had the money and I wanted it.”, he chuckled. “But this one here… I got for Master of Puppets and that album. Do you guys know who sings that?”

“Metallica.”

“Damn…CurvyCorporateMillennial answered that quick. Good girl.”, he chuckles making you smirk before you internally panic.

“Shit. How am I the only one who answered that, that fast?”

“My mom and my uncle really loved all kinds of music. Inspired me to learn to play…”, he sighed as his eyes went a bit glassy.

Your heart broke for him as you listened to the sad tone in his voice, wondering if something happened there. He never talked about his parents but to be fair you also never asked.

“You play very well.”

A soft smile spread across his lips as he winked at the camera causing you to bite your own lip at how fucking sexy the action genuinely was.

“Alright, we’re nearing the end of this hour. It was nice talkin’ to you guys. To my special group, I will see you in about five minutes. I hope to see you there to, Millennial.”

With that he turned off his stream, leaving you dumbfounded as you stared at your screen.

“No…there’s no way he was talking to me. There have to other people with Millennial in their name… Y/N, you’ve been here long enough and you even engaged. You need to back away now.”

The entire time you went on the hunt for your credit card, you had that debate with yourself, down to the last minute and point you hit enter.

When the new room opened, he was smiling at the camera as if he had been waiting just for you before they flicked down to the monitor in front of him. Instead of having a guitar in his lap, the metalhead displayed his palm absently rubbing his crotch through his sweats.

“Hey, guys. Thank you for your time and money. This is where the conversation gets fun.”, Eddie chuckles. “Ask away.”

“I shouldn’t be here.”

You can’t see anything displayed on the screen but you can see the reflection of words glisten within his chocolate eyes.

“Aha, no. No, Steve tonight. I did ask but he said he’s incredibly busy this week…Ok, JulieGirl, I’ll let him know you miss him. Shit, I miss him to. Man definitely knows how to leave me a mumbling mess… Yeah? You’d sit on Daddy’s cock?”

“F-Fuck me.”, you panted, completely frozen as you watched him reach into his pants and take out his dick to spit over his tip, stroking it along his shaft.

You had never thought about Eddie intimately like that but seeing him wrap his large palm around his girth had your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Fuck, no, wrong!”, you shout as you close the browser and slam the laptop closed.

##################

“Hey, sweetheart.”, Eddie murmured while his hand rubbed along your back as he flopped down in his seat beside you. This was an action he did everyday which is why he was startled when you gasped and jumped in your chair. “Whoa! You alright, honey? Too much coffee?”, he joked, nervous when you didn’t laugh.

“I’m fine.”, you replied curtly, choosing to focus on your computer in front of you.

For the rest of the day, you avoided his gaze and kept your head down to work. During your lunch you two would usually sit together but today when he asked if you wanted to go anywhere, you declined and gestured towards your monitor.

As soon as he clocked out, you waited for him to exit the floor, clocking out as well before following. You hid when you noticed him waiting for the elevator, counting to 30 after he got on and the door closed before pressing the button to ride your own.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you prayed you’d miss him coming back in, your eyes widening in surprise when the elevator door opened and Eddie was leaning against the opposite wall.

“Hey, um, oh fuck. I forgot something—”

As the doors began to close again, the metalhead took long strides forward and his palm loudly smacked against the bumpers causing them to slowly open once more.

“Did I do something to make you mad?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Did I say something or do something to offend you?”

“Pfft, Eddie, what are talking about?”, you reply as nonchalantly as possible while stepping around his broad frame and heading for the parking lot.

“Oh, come off it, Y/N. You’ve barely said two words to me and now you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you—”

“Just tell me what I did wrong—!”, he shouts as he reaches for your bicep to get you to slow down but pauses when you abruptly turn and glare his way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…grab you… I just…I don’t like this…you treating me like most of the people in this fucking town.”

“Huh?”, you inquire, genuinely confused.

“Shit. I forget you’re not from here sometimes. Um, let’s just say I don’t have many friends. I know we don’t really hang out outside of the building but I like talking to you. It would seriously break my heart if you never spoke to me again.”

Your own heart cracked hearing the sincerity in his voice as his gaze shifted to his feet like a nervous kid.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything. I’m just…I have a lot on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”, he asks. “As your work husband it’s my duty to hear about my work wife’s woos.” As you laugh at his joke, a sigh of relief leaves his chest.

“No, I’ll be alright.”

“Ok…may I buy you lunch, my lady?”

***

You exhaled as you got home and threw yourself flat on your bed, exhausted from the day and your constant thoughts about what you had seen the night before.

You considered just telling him what you saw but you didn’t want to embarrass him nor did you want to come off like some kind of pervert. You knew he had a “second job” but you never asked what it was mostly because you didn’t want to pry.

He seemed so hurt today when you ignored him and it didn’t help that you were now pent up, needing a release after hearing him talk the way he had.

Your phone dinged and originally you ignored it, thinking it was most likely your roommate who was letting you know that she got to work safely like she always did being that she worked a late-night shift at one of the restaurants nearby.

When you finally looked at the screen, you were surprised to see a notification from the OnlyFans account.

Your private session with EddietheBanished starts in five minutes.

“Huh? I didn’t…”

Once again you debated with you internal self as you got to your feet and headed to grab your roommate’s device.

“I can log in and just tell him ‘Hey it’s Y/N. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have clicked on your thing…’ Yeah…Ok, Y/N.”

As soon as you opened the browser and signed in, you made sure the camera was off as you entered the session link sent to you.

“Hey, Millennial.”, Eddie’s sultry voice cooed as he smiled at the screen. “I hope it’s alright. I scheduled this session here. I noticed you left the group thing before it really started and since you paid for it, I thought it only fair to do this so you don’t feel like you wasted your money.”

Your face softened at his kind confession as you sighed and began to type.

“You didn’t have to do that. You seem very sweet. I wouldn’t have felt like I wasted my money at all.”

“Aw, thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate that. May I ask why you left so abruptly?”

“I…”

“It felt wrong.”

The metalhead blinked as he nodded and leaned back in his chair as his palm absently rubbed his tummy, the action in itself filling your own stomach with little butterflies.

“You’re not an OnlyFans normal, are you, honey?”

“Not really no. I was borrowing my roommate’s laptop and when I opened it I saw your face. I got curious.”

“It’s alright to be curious. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I seem to be unintentionally doing that.”, he chuckles causing your head to tilt.

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear about my problems.”

“No, please. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just… I work at this boring ass job during the day but the only person that keeps me sane seemed upset at me today…kinda scared me. My coworkers call her my work wife.”

“I’m sure she just had a lot on her mind.”

“Hm, that’s what she said but…she doesn’t really talk to me about her personal life. I hope everything is ok. I invite her out sometimes but she always declines…says she’s ‘too old’.”, he laughs as he shakes his head.

The two of you casually talked for what felt like minutes before you glanced at your phone and realized it had actually been over four hours. Eddie opened up to you, talking about his family especially his uncle, his dreams of being a rock & roll legend, and things he enjoyed like D & D.

“I know absolutely nothing about that game! Lol. I wish I did though. It seems like fun.”

“Oh, baby, it is. Maybe you’ll let me teach you one day…see that pretty face behind the flower…”

“Pfft, how do you know my face is pretty? Lol.”

“Because how can a gorgeous soul like yours not be gorgeous.”

Eddie’s words gave you pause as your breath caught in your throat. He had said it with so much confidence to that you couldn’t help but physically hide behind your hands.

“I hope I’m not being too forward. I don’t mean to make you nervous or anything.”

“No…you don’t make me nervous…I think you’re just wasting that charm on someone my age.”

“Hm, well, I may be younger but I can still be Daddy.”

As he winks at the camera and smiles your whole body comes to life.

“Eddie…there’s something I should tell you…”

“Did I move to fast? I’m sorry. It’s so weird but I feel like I’ve known you for years, you know? Fuck, probably sounds like a line.”

His hair moves from side to side as he shakes him head in shame and laughs making you laugh along with him.

“It does but that’s alright. I’ve never done anything like this before. Not just the whole online thing but…the Daddy thing… God, that sounds so stupid.”

“No, no, baby, you don’t sound stupid. May I ask, sweetheart…did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Hearing me refer to myself that way; as Daddy.”

“Yes.”

Eddie’s smile stretches across his face as he bites his bottom lip and leans back in his seat.

“I wish I could see you. I’m picturing you like blushing and being all giggly. Fuck, the thought of seeing you like that turns me on.”

Your breath shakes at his words as your thighs rub together.

“You’ve spent so much time talking and getting to know me, baby, I’d like to return the favor.”

“How?”

Scooting his chair a bit closer to the camera, he adjusts his body so you can see more of his lap and chest.

“How’s this, sweetheart? Got a good view?”

“I can’t see your face very well.”

You vaguely catch it as his cheeks turn a bright crimson and he smirks as he messes with the camera once more so you can see all his face a bit better.

“Most people on here want to see my abs or my cock.”

“With partners, I like seeing their eyebrows scrunch together or their mouth fall open.”

“Hear that whimper most men try to hide under their heavy breaths.”

“Fuck me, honey. You definitely have a way with words. I like it. What, um, damn, you threw me a bit off my groove there.”, he chuckles as his palm rubs up his pec and over his opposite shoulder.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Maybe…we can talk next weekend. I can schedule the session myself this time.

“Would it be too forward if I asked for your phone number? I’d love to talk with you through the week.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Eddie.”

“Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

####################

You tried so many times to tell him about finding his account and how you were the girl he spoke with that Friday night, you really did. But the longer you waited, the harder it became.

When he came in that Monday morning, Eddie had a different glow about him as he lightly tugged your hair and said hello.

The week went by like normal and you spent every day hyping yourself up, finally deciding you would tell him on Saturday after surprising him by seeing him play at The Hideout. You figured he’d be in such a good mood that you showed up to see him, maybe he wouldn’t be so angry after you told him the truth.

When you opened the bar entrance door, you were met with loud blaring music and a lot of young voices chatting over the music. Mumbling small apologies, you pushed past people to find a table near the stage hoping you’d be able to catch his eyeline so Eddie knew you were there.

Lucky for you, they were already on stage preparing their equipment so you hastily snuck to the corner and called his name. When his chocolate eyes met yours, he smiled wide before seeming to freeze as he took you in.

You weren’t sure what was normal for bar attire so you went with a green spaghetti strap dress with matching heels and light make up to accentuate your features.

“Hey! I hope I’m not distracting you. I just wanted you to know—”

“Hey, no. No, no. You’re not…distracting me…”, Eddie interrupted as he jumped down from the stage to give you a hug.

Fuck, he smelled amazing.

“Wow, sweetheart, you look gorgeous. I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

“I wasn’t sure what was normal or…”

“Pfft, fuck normal.” As his eyes continued to run along your face, you both seemed to realize he hadn’t taken his arms off your waist after your embrace. “Fuck…I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. Usually, I’m a lot smoother than this.”

“Are you?”, you tease causing his grin to reappear as he takes a step back and pokes your nose.

“There’s my work wife I know and love. Alright, I have to finish getting ready but please stay afterward and let me buy you a drink, ok?”

***

“Eddie, oh my God, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play like that!”, you continued to compliment as he laughed, chugging back another bottle of beer in his grasp.

“Thank you, baby. Now, if you could advocate for us to get more record time so we can actually get something out.”

“Whatever you need. Do you have a shirt or maybe I can get a tattoo on my forehead.”

You giggle as he laughs and shakes his head.

“No, Y/N. Would be a shame to damage a gorgeous face like yours.”, Eddie smirks as you bite your lip.

“So, did your mom teach you to play guitar like that or did your uncle?”

The metalhead blinks, slightly taken aback.

“What would make you say that? My mom or my uncle and not like my dad?”

“Oh, um, we’ve talked about your uncle before and you’ve never really mentioned your father so I just assumed… I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry.”, he sighs as his gaze shifts to the table. “My mom got me into music but my uncle taught me to play my guitar. My dad taught me other bullshit like how to hot wire a car and how to spend the rest of your life in prison.”

Your heart breaks for him and on impulse you lean your head on his shoulder as you place your palm over his.

“Yeah, this is why I don’t usually talk about myself.”

“You can always talk to me, Eddie.”

The man smiles softly as he lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders and pull you closer to his side.

“I’m glad you came, Y/N. It was nice seeing you out here bobbing your head and cheering for me.”

You laugh as he tilts his head against yours and his hand slides from your shoulder down your bicep.

“I’m your wife. I thought it was about time to come see my husband play his loud records for the youngens.”

Eddie’s throat vibrates as he chuckles through his teeth but you barely notice as you nuzzle your nose into his neck and inhale the smell of his cologne.

“You always talk like you were born in 1943 or something.”

“Psh, my body makes me feel that way sometimes.”

“Now why do I doubt that? With a body like yours, honey, I bet you feel better than any of these other girls.”

Leaning your head back, your eyes lock with his as your hand comes up to rest on his cheek so your thumb can caress his bottom lip.

Just as his mouth is about to press to yours, you gasp as you push away from him.

“Oh my God…Eddie…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

As he watches you panic, confusion floods his face and freezes him in place until you hurriedly push out the front door. Before you make it to your car, a ringed palm grabs your arm, pushing your back against an adjacent van as he crashes his lips to yours.

It was a messy kiss but fuck did it taste fucking good.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he allowed you both a moment to catch your breath as his tall, broad frame kept you boxed in.

“Please, Y/N. I want this…I want you…I want to feel you…”, Eddie whispered as his mouth ghosted your neck to your ear and your eyes rolled shut at the sound. “I want to taste you and hear all the noises you make, baby.”

“F-Fuck…Daddy…”

“Uh my God.”, he breathily panted as his hand absently reached for the door handle and opened the back. “It’s ok…this is mine…I promise.”

The metalhead didn’t even wait for a response as he lifted you by your waist and placed you inside, shutting the door behind him.

As you crawled backwards further into the back of his van, he hastily climbed up your body to attach his mouth to yours again. Placing his knee between your legs, you took advantage desperate for friction to relieve the ache making you dizzy with need.

“That’s it, baby girl, use Daddy’s leg. Fuck, I can feel how wet you are.”

Your fists grabbed at his shirt as you moaned against his lips.

“Are you gonna cum, sweetheart? What a desperate little thing.”

The rhythm of your hips hastened as your grip on him tightened and your back arched as the coil snapped.

“Good, good girl. Fuck.”

As his mouth attached to your throat, your fingers reached between you two and sloppily fumbled with his belt as he reached back to help you pull his pants just below his ass.

“Holy shit.”, he whispered as your palm took hold of his incredibly hard cock and moved the cotton blocking your core to the side to allow him entry. “Fuck, baby.”

Your arms came around to cling to his shoulders as his head fell into your nook and he set a steady pace.

“Oh my God, Eddie…your dick is so big…” He grunted at your words as he rolled his hips, pushing his length as deep as your pussy would allow and then some. “I’ve never…I’ve had anyone so… fuck…”

“Tell me, honey, please.” When you don’t immediately respond, he lifts his head to kiss you. “You can do it, beautiful.”

“I-I’ve never had anyone so deep.”

“Fuck, baby girl. Tell Daddy how you want me to make you cum again. Do you want it slow?”, he asks as he gradually pulls all the way back till it’s just his tip before thrusting back into you. “Or do you want it fast and hard?”

“Faster, please.”, you beg as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Eddie does what you ask, his head falling again as he roughly pounds into your cunt. Your fingers tangle in his hair and his own palm slides behind your back, holding you to him as your body trembles and your pussy squeezes him like a vice as you cum.

“Shit…good, baby. Fuck, you choke my dick when you cum…so fucking tight…where do you want my cum, honey.”

“In-Inside, Eddie, please.”

He started to lift his head to make sure you were sure, but your hand kept him against your throat as you rolled your hips to meet his eliciting a loud grunt from him as his mouth fell open.

His whole frame collapsed on top of you as his pace faltered and you felt his release paint your walls. The strangled groan followed by his heavy pants were the sexiest things you had ever heard and as you lazily turned to look at his face his mouth was waiting.

Compared to his other kisses, this one was much more tender.

A soft kiss between two people who had known each other and been friends for a long time. When he pulled back, his chocolate eyes met your irises as his fingers caressed your cheek.

After a few moments, he silently pulled out of you, kissing your forehead when you winced before crawling towards his glove box and rifling through it.

“Shit. I thought I had tissues… Ok, um, let me grab some napkins real quick from inside and then…if you’re up to it…maybe we can go to the diner and have some dinner…talk?”

You nod, smiling as he fumbles with his own pants and belt while almost falling out of his van before catching himself on the door.

“Fucking shit! Uh, I swear I’m more, uh, graceful than that…ok, I’ll be right back.”

################

Eddie was an absolute gentleman that night; taking you to dinner where you got to know him a bit better. Afterward, he drove you home and walked you to your door with a smile that you returned with a soft kiss.

After closing your door, you looked through the peephole to find him beaming wide before throwing his hands in the air in victory and heading back to this car.

You dreamt about his arms around you and thought about him all morning, the subtle soreness between your legs a constant reminder.

“Hey. Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you and I hope you’re feeling ok. I have to work tonight for a bit but maybe after I can call and we can talk?”

You smiled at his text before the realization hit you that his “work” was the website and he still had no idea you were one of the accounts he was talking to. As if to emphasis that a point, a notification flashed on your screen reminding you that you had a session scheduled with Eddie the Banished later that evening.

Opening the computer, you sat there preparing your speech and apology, ready to tell him everything but when his face illuminated your screen it gave you pause. Before when you saw him online, he usual had on just sweats or boxers but this time he was wearing a long sleeve shirt with a Dio album on the front.

Still donning black sweats, he had his hair pulled up and out of his face making you smile.

“Hey, sweetheart. I hope it’s ok but I need your advice.”

“You want my advice?”

“Yeah. You seem incredibly smart and with our last conversation I know you’re easy to talk to.”

As Eddie grinned nervously, you couldn’t help but blush as your fingers flew along the keyboard.

“How can I help?”

“Ok, so I was playing my show last night and this girl…woman…I work with finally showed up to see me. I’ve been asking her for months to come and each time she said she couldn’t for one reason or another. Usually because she said she was ‘to old’.”, he laughs, rolling his eyes. “She’s not. She’s probably the same age as you since she’s a Millennial to but anyway… I loved seeing her come out of her shell, you know? She danced in her seat and headbanged; it was so fucking cute.”

As his smile grew at the thought you bit your bottom lip at the sight.

“After the show, things got…intimate… and, um, so I guess my question is…how do I tell her about this?”, he asks as he gestures towards his computer and camera. “I don’t want her to think I’m like…a whore or something. I do this for the money because call centers pay their fucking employees jack shit. Add in the fact that I still kind of need to do it because my band and I are SO close to finishing this record but I don’t want her to be uncomfortable or feel like I’m cheating or something. I’m not my dad… I don’t fucking know…”

“Honey.”, you type as he covers his face with his palms. “Breathe. It’s ok. The fact that you’re even thinking of all this I’m sure will mean a lot to her. Eddie, I have to tell you something.”

“I just don’t want to lose her. No one has ever made me feel the way she does. At work I get a glimpse of what a relationship with her would be like and I love it. She’s so funny and sweet. Whenever she’s frustrated, her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk and she sighs like she wants to throw her computer out the window. When she smiles, the entire room lights up. She’s so beautiful, you have no idea.”

“Have you told her any of this?”

“Before last night I didn’t think I stood a chance. In my hometown, people don’t exactly like me. The Munson name carries a lot of weight because of my dad. He conned so many people here and add in the fact that I grew up in a trailer… they see me as trash. It would kill me if she saw me the same way.

“No, Eddie. She would never think that.”

“Then she makes jokes a lot about her age and sometimes I get worried that she’d see me as like a kid or something. I’m highly aware that a man her own age could probably give her way more than I ever could but… I don’t know. Maybe if she can call me Daddy like she did…she can see me as someone who can take care of her because I will, honey. I don’t care what I have to do.”

“Sounds like you already know what you have to do :). Just talk to her, baby. She… she may surprise you herself.”

“She surprised the hell out of me last night. When she called me Daddy, I almost fucking came in my jeans. I’m sorry. Don’t mean to be crude.”, he grins as he sticks out his tongue towards the camera.

“It’s ok lol So it was good? The intimacy?”

Eddie’s gaze shifts off camera as his teeth drag along his bottom lip.

“We’re friends right?”

“Of course.”

“It was the best I’ve ever had, Millennial. Fuck, her lips tasted amazing. I can only imagine what her pussy tastes like. Shit… It happened so fast I wasn’t able to take my time with her but next time… I’m going take her on a date Friday if she says yes. I want to take her to dinner and really make her feel special. She deserves that. Then I’m going to explore her gorgeous body till she’s begging me to stop.”

Your thighs rubbed together at his words as that similar ache between your legs lit a fire in your belly.

Without thinking about it, you grabbed your phone and texted his number.

“Eddie when will you be free??”

Instantly, you heard vibration on his side of the stream and watched as he leaned forward to grab his device. As he smiled down at the screen, you felt your need for him rise as you watched his long, thick fingers fly along the phone’s keyboard.

What is it about this man that has you feeling like this?

“I can be free now. Why? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just…”

“Do you think you could come over?”

“Hey, uh, Millennial, I have to go but I’ll keep you updated. Maybe next time you can give me your number and we can keep in touch. I may need more advice!”

Your brain is too foggy to register how that will be a problem later as you type out your goodbyes and he signs off. A moment later, another text from him comes through to your phone.

“Yeah, I can be there in ten minutes. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I need Daddy.”

The three dots flash on you screen for a millisecond before he replies, “I’m on my way, baby.”

***

Eddie’s fist barely has a chance to knock before you’re opening your apartment door and tugging him inside by his collar, roughly bringing his lips to yours.

“Ro-Roommate?”, he asks as his eyes briefly notice the two bedrooms.

“Work…works…overnight…”, you answer between passionate kiss as you tug off his leather jacket and he lifts up your shirt tossing it aside. “Need you…please…”

“I got you, sweetheart. Daddy can take care of you.”

You practically melt into his embrace, backing him into the living room wall and yanking off his shirt so you could drag your lips down his chest as you start to descend to your knees before he grabs your arm.

“No, no, honey. I said Daddy is taking care of you.” With one swift turn he spun you around, placing his palm beside your head to steady himself. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Can I taste you, baby?

Eddie smirks when you emphatically nod and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Can you say it?”, he whispers. “Tell me what you want.”

His eyes stay on yours as he slowly falls to his knees and his palms reach up to pull down your underwear till you were completely naked. While his lips gently pecked along your belly, your own hand reached out to pet his head.

“I want you to feel your t-tongue in my pussy.”

As his smile grows, Eddie abruptly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and dives into your cunt, doing what you requested. With every flick of the muscle between his teeth, you felt yourself falling deeper into euphoria. This metalhead definitely knew what he was doing and reveled in it as his tongue roamed.

“Oh…Oh my God, Eddie. Just like that…”

Your fingers pressed him harder against you and his moan vibrated through you at the sensation. As he picked up his pace, his mouth overwhelmed you as he sucked and made out with your clit till he felt your body quiver as you came.

Rising to his feet, you circled your arms around his neck as he slid his middle and ring fingers inside of you trying to elongate your high.

“I knew it. I knew you tasted like fucking heaven. Fuck, such a good girl.”

After pushing down his sweats, you licked your palm and wrapped it around his girth, his glassy eyes fluttering at the feeling.

Eddie’s free hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could see your face.

“Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, pretty girl. I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard on my cock. Goddamn, I keep thinking about how tight your little pussy gets when she cums. Fuck, baby, you drive me crazy.”

You suddenly let him go as your hand flew down to grab his wrist trying to push him away as you whined.

“No, no, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. Daddy’s got you. Give in to it. I’m right here.” At his murmured words, you continued to cling to him as your hips rolled against his fingers. “Atta girl. I know, I know. Cum again for Daddy, baby.”

A string of uhs left your lips as his eyes remained glued to your face and your nails dug into his skin as the coil snapped.

“Goddamn, you are so fucking sexy.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as his mouth latched onto your neck and you carefully guided him to your bedroom while tried to stumble out of his pants.

“Motherfuck—I swear I can walk.”, he jokes as you both fall naked onto your bed.

“Well, only if your pants are on correctly.”

Eddie laughs as he pushes up on his forearms to look down at your beaming features. Your index finger gradually extends to caress his cheek and along his chin, grazing the light stubble that clung to his skin.

“You’re handsome.”

At your compliment, his jaw flexes as he tries to contain the obnoxiously huge smile that wants to stretch from ear to ear at your adorable tone.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I mean it. I always thought you were.”

“Yeah?” You nod, biting your bottom lip to contain your own smile. “You want to know a secret?”

“Hm?”

Eddie crawls a bit further up your frame, gently kissing your jawline till he finds the shell of your ear.

“I always thought you were beautiful to, baby.”

Utilizing his knee, he pushes your legs further apart as he grinds his cock between your dripping pussy lips but before he could guide himself inside of you, your hand lightly pushed on his hip as you gently pulled his hair.

His face flooded with concern as his eyes scanned you over.

“I want to see your face this time, Daddy…Please…”

A relieved chuckle left him; thankful you were ok.

“You’re going to kill me, honey.”

Licking his lips, you watch as Eddie’s eyes momentarily shifted to the void as he reached between your bodies and pressed his mushroom tip to your entrance. When his irises found yours again, he brought his arm back around and tenderly petted your head as he slowly thrust his cock inch by inch.

“You’re doing good, baby girl…taking me so he well.”, he praised when he noticed your eyebrows twitch in what appeared to be pain. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Do you need me to go slower?”

“No…No, Daddy. You’re… you’re just…”

“Yeah? Just what, princess?”

“You’re so big.”

“I know, baby, I know but you’re doing so good. I’m almost all the way in.”

“Y-You can…you can go harder…you d-don’t have to be so—fuck—gentle.”

Eddie stops moving for a moment as he smirks down at you before suddenly smacking his hips into yours eliciting a loud moan from deep within you.

“Like that?”, he teases as he pounds into you again. “I told you…Daddy’s got you.”

Finding a faster rhythm, he kept his intensity as he repeatedly abuses that sensitive, spongy spot deep within you that has your mind reeling.

Pushing upright onto his knees, the metalhead pressed your thighs flat into the mattress as he watched himself disappear inside your cunt.

“Shit—your pussy feels too fucking good. Cum again, Y/N. Cum on Daddy’s dick, baby.”

“Something…something’s different…”

Eddie slows for a fraction of a second before he realizes what’s about to happen.

He sees it all over you scrunched face.

Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit as he keeps a steady pace. Again, your hand tries to grab at his wrist but he’s much stronger than you as your movements don’t deter him.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Daddy’s right here, baby. Just let it happen.”

A wave of pleasure stronger than you had ever experienced before washes over you as the ball in your tummy drops and you scream his name.

“Atta girl! Fuck, Y/N.”, he groans, his thrusts faltering as he pumps his release deep inside you. “Fuck…it’s ok…you’re ok.”, he pants. “I’ve…I’ve never made a girl squirt before.”

It took him a moment but it was only then that he realized you were crying.

“Hey. Hey, hey, what’s wrong, baby. Talk to me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you hug him and he continues to try and comfort you. “Everything’s alright, Y/N.”

“I-I-I’ve never done that before. I…ruined the moment…”

“Oh, honey, no. No, you didn’t ruin anything.”, Eddie cooed as he moved back to allow you to sit up and he could wipe your eyes with his thumbs. “What just happened was incredibly fucking hot.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, beautiful girl, it was. I’m honored to be the first guy to make you cum hard like that. I mean…of course being your husband only IIII can do that…”

At his joke, you laugh as you reach out to lightly hit his bicep as he giggles along with you.

“How about this? Let’s get you into a bath and all clean, then I can change the sheets and get you in some nice comfy pajamas.”

“Will…will you lay with me after?”

Caressing your cheek, he leans towards you to gently kiss your lips.

“Of course.”

After your bath, Eddie gave you some alone time to complete any needs you felt you needed to complete before bed and as soon as you were done, you stepped out of your bathroom to find him just finishing making the bed.

“I hope this is alright. I found these sheets in a closet in the hallway.”

“These are actually my roommates.”

“Oh… well…sheet.”, he jests, smiling when you breathy laugh. “Sorry, bad joke.”

“I like it.”

Stepping towards him, you grab his arm and push him under the covers so you could curl up into his side. Lifting his arm, he circles it around your shoulder and you pleasantly sigh as he plays with your hair.

“At some point, sweetheart, we’re going to have to talk about this…us…”

“Is that bad?”

“No, fuck, I made it sound like it was going to be. I just…there’s some things I need you to know…about me…my life—”

Your palm cuts him off as your eyes meet his.

“Later. Tonight, I just want to be close to you like this.”

“Yeah…”, he sighs before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. “Me to.”

###################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @twirls827 @micheledawn1975 @chelebelletx @hardladyheart @spiderxbatty @twirls827

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theodorenmyth · 22 hours ago

Text

Little Loveboy

Pairings; Mattheo Riddle x GN!reader

Summary: Mattheo Riddle has been hopelessly in love with you since third year, but he refuses to admit it. He dates around, flirts with random girls, and scoffs whenever his friends bring you up—but he just can't shake his feelings. His jealousy is uncontrollable, and his friends never let him hear the end of it. Eventually, even professors start teasing him, much to his dismay.

A/n : starting from today to the 16th of February, I'm gonna make Valentine themed fanfics so no angst.

Warnings ; none

Word count ; 900+

Mattheo Riddle was, as Theodore put it, fucking doomed.

He had been doomed since third year, when he first saw you absolutely wreck the entire class during a debate with Snape about the properties of Amortentia. The way your eyes gleamed with passion, the way you sat so effortlessly confident, the way you were just so fucking smart—it made his heart do something weird. Like it wanted to jump out of his chest and roll across the floor.

And that? That wasn’t normal.

So, obviously, he did the only logical thing—he ignored it. For years.

Instead of admitting that he found you painfully attractive, he spent his time flirting with girls, dating left and right, pretending like he wasn’t being driven up the wall whenever you smiled at someone else.

But the problem with having a hopelessly obvious crush was that Mattheo’s friends were absolute menaces.

“You’re staring again, Little Loveboy,” Pansy sang, flicking his forehead.

“I’m not staring,” Mattheo grumbled, leaning back in his chair, definitely not still looking at you.

“Right,” Blaise drawled, looking over at where you were sitting by the window, absorbed in a book. “That’s why you’ve been looking at Y/N for the past—what? Fifteen minutes?”

“I don’t like him,” Mattheo snapped, but the moment he said it, he glanced at you again.

And just like that, Theodore fucking grinned.

“Oh, mate,” Theo laughed, shaking his head. “You are so gone.”

Draco, sitting beside him, smirked. “It’s honestly embarrassing at this point.”

“You know what’s embarrassing?” Mattheo scoffed. “The fact that you all have nothing better to do than bother me.”

“You make it too easy,” Lorenzo snickered. “Little Loveboy.”

“I will throw you out the fucking window.”

And then, as if the universe hated Mattheo, you looked up from your book. Your eyes met his for half a second, and you smiled at him—a simple, small thing, but oh my fucking God.

Mattheo nearly choked on his own tongue.

His friends exploded into laughter.

“Oh, he’s red!” Pansy gasped. “He’s actually blushing!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mattheo hissed, yanking his hood over his face.

But the teasing didn’t stop there.

No, it got worse.

Because apparently, his suffering was entertainment to not only his friends, but also his professors.

During one particularly terrible Potions class, Mattheo had spent a good portion of the lesson staring at you. Not that he noticed. It just kept happening..

And Snape, ever the observant bastard, took full advantage of this.

“Mr. Riddle,” Snape drawled, interrupting the entire class, “perhaps you would find this lesson more engaging if you spent less time gazing longingly at Mr. Y/L/N and more time focusing on the assignment?”

The entire class turned to look at him.

Mattheo’s jaw dropped.

Even you looked over, blinking in surprise.

“Oh, fuck me,” Mattheo muttered under his breath as his friends burst out laughing.

“Bloody hell,” Draco wheezed, gripping the edge of the table. “Even Snape’s in on it.”

“I hate all of you,” Mattheo gritted out, slamming his book shut.

Snape smirked. “Detention, Riddle.”

Mattheo groaned.

But it didn’t stop there.

Because McGonagall got involved too.

During Transfiguration, Mattheo had, once again, found himself subconsciously staring at you instead of his assignment.

He was trying—he really was—but you had this habit of biting your lip when you were focused, and it was distracting as fuck.

“Mr. Riddle,” McGonagall said, sighing dramatically, “if you’re quite done swooning over Mr. Y/L/N, perhaps you’d like to contribute to the class?”

The Gryffindors howled with laughter.

Mattheo buried his face in his hands. “I’m actually going to die.”

And, of course, the final nail in the coffin was Hagrid.

It was during Care of Magical Creatures. You were partnered with some random Ravenclaw—too close, too friendly, and Mattheo hated it.

He stood there, arms crossed, glowering at the poor guy.

“Merlin, that’s a death stare if I’ve ever seen one,” Theo muttered.

And then, loudly, Hagrid chuckled, “Oh, don’t be jealous, Mattheo, ‘s not like Y/N’s runnin’ off to marry ‘im.”

You turned to look at Mattheo.

Mattheo, absolutely horrified, turned and ran into the fucking woods.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

After that, Mattheo’s denial crumbled like a cheap pastry.

He liked you. He liked you so much it physically hurt.

And after weeks of torment, he finally decided—fuck it.

So, he found you sitting by the Black Lake one afternoon, reading as always, and he sat down beside you.

You glanced up, surprised. “Hey, Mattheo.”

Mattheo almost short-circuited.

Your voice. Your fucking voice.

“Hey,” he muttered, trying to act casual, even though his entire body was buzzing with nerves. “So. Uh. I—uh.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “You okay?”

Mattheo exhaled sharply. Just do it, Riddle.

“I like you, okay?” he blurted out.

You blinked. “You—what?”

Mattheo groaned. “I like you. I’ve liked you since third year. I tried to ignore it, but—Merlin, you’re just so fucking cute and smart and perfect and I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your face slowly turned red.

“Oh,” you said.

Mattheo stared at you, heart pounding. “Oh?”

And then, after several painfully long seconds, you smiled.

Smiled.

“That’s funny,” you murmured, “because I’ve liked you since third year, too.”

Mattheo’s brain broke.

“…You’re kidding.”

You shook your head, biting your lip to suppress a laugh.

And then, without thinking, Mattheo grabbed your face and kissed you.

The moment your lips met, his entire world tilted.

You kissed him back, smiling against his lips, and everything felt right.

When you finally pulled away, Mattheo was breathless, staring at you like you hung the bloody moon.

“Little Loveboy,” you teased.

Mattheo groaned. “Not you, too.”

You just laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder.

And for once, Mattheo didn’t deny it.

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isaadore · 2 days ago

Text

MEMORIES JACK HUGHES

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ pairing jack hughes x reader

SUMMARY three months after your breakup, a late-night call leads you back to jack’s doorstep. old wounds reopen when he finally asks the question he never did before: why? the love is still there, but so is the pain. when you walk away for the last time, he doesn’t stop you. some memories refuse to fade, and jack will always be the one you can never forget. inspired by “memories” by conan gray. word count 1.1k

warning heavy angst, unresolved feelings, longing, mentions of alcohol, no happy ending, cussing

note i felt mean today

JH86 MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

THE LAST THING you expected was for him to answer.

Not because he didn’t have every right to ignore your call. He did. But because it was late, and three months had passed without a word between you. And yet, before you could second-guess yourself, before you could even consider hanging up, his voice crackled through the speaker.

“…Hello?”

It was quiet, hesitant, as if he didn’t believe it was really you.

Your breath caught.

You should have said something. Told him this was a mistake, that you didn’t mean to dial his number, that you hadn’t had one too many glasses of wine and ended up outside his apartment building, staring up at the window you used to call home.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you exhaled softly, barely above a whisper.

“Hey, Jack.”

Silence.

And then, a sharp breath.

“Where are you?”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around your phone. The truth sat heavy in your chest, pressing against your ribs, but saying it out loud felt like stepping onto a ledge you couldn’t come back from.

Still, you forced yourself to answer.

“I’m outside.”

The line went dead.

Your stomach twisted. Maybe this was stupid. Maybe he wouldn’t even let you up. You should have left before you made this worse, before you made a fool of yourself for the guy who had every reason to hate you.

But then, before you could turn away, the lobby buzzer rang.

You stared at it, heart pounding.

He had just let you in.

And you didn’t know if that made this better or so much worse.

The apartment looked the same.

It shouldn’t have. You expected something to be different, maybe new furniture or at the very least, the absence of all the little things you left behind. But they were still there. The blanket you always curled up in, still thrown over the couch. The candle you bought last fall burned halfway. The framed photo of the two of you that used to sit in the hallway, gone, but its outline lingered against the wall.

Jack stood across the room, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

“You look good.” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Jack scoffed, shaking his head. “Don’t.”

You bit your lip, nodding. “Okay.”

More silence.

He exhaled sharply. “Why are you here?”

It was a fair question. One you didn’t know how to answer.

“I don’t know.”

Jack laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Right.”

You swallowed hard, shifting on your feet. “I just…” You trailed off, glancing around the apartment again. “I thought I’d be okay.”

Jack’s eyes darkened. “And you’re not?”

Your throat tightened.

You wanted to lie. Tell him you were fine, that you’d moved on, that this wasn’t some pathetic attempt to hold on to something that was already gone.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because standing there, with him looking at you like you still meant something, like you still held a place in his life even after everything…

You realized you didn’t know how to live in a world where he was just a memory.

You exhaled shakily. “No. I’m not.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, letting out a rough breath. “Then why the hell did you leave?”

Your heart clenched.

He had never asked before.

Not that night, when you packed your things with shaking hands. Not when you left your key on the counter, or when you walked out of this apartment, knowing you’d never be able to come back.

But now, when it was too late, he wanted to know.

You blinked back tears. “You know why.”

Jack shook his head, stepping closer. “No, I don’t.” His voice was raw, strained. “I know you were unhappy, but you never gave me a chance to fix it. You just—” He exhaled sharply. “You just walked away.”

Your chest tightened. “Because it wasn’t something you could fix, Jack.”

His jaw clenched. “That’s bullshit.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not.” Your voice wavered, but you pressed on. “You loved me, Jack. I know that. But I was never going to be your priority.”

He flinched. “That’s not—”

“Yes, it is.” You swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “I spent so much time convincing myself that it was okay, that I could handle being second, that I could live with you being out late and missing dates and the fact that you never let me in, not really.” Your voice broke. “But I couldn’t. And I hated myself for it.”

Jack stared at you, breathing heavily. “I never meant to make you feel like that.”

“I know.”

“But I—” He swallowed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know you were that unhappy.”

You looked away. “That’s the problem, Jack. You didn’t even notice.”

The words landed like a blow, knocking the air from his lungs.

Jack’s breathing was uneven now, his eyes shining in the dim light. “So, what?” His voice was hoarse. “You just gave up on us?”

Your throat tightened. “I didn’t give up.” You blinked back tears. “I just—I got tired of fighting for something that only ever felt one-sided.”

Jack inhaled sharply, like you just confirmed his worst fear.

“I loved you,” he said, barely above a whisper.

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I know.”

Jack took another step forward, close enough now that you could see the way his fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if he was allowed to.

“You’re still the only thing I think about,” he confessed. “Every fucking day.”

A choked breath escaped you. “Jack—”

“Do you miss me?” His voice was quiet, but the desperation was unmistakable.

Your heart shattered. “Every day.”

Jack exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a brief second before looking at you again, and for the first time, you saw it: the cracks in his foundation, the pressure of everything he had been carrying since the night you left.

“I don’t know how to let you go,” he admitted.

And God, you wished he didn’t say that.

Because neither did you.

But you had to.

You stepped back, blinking rapidly. “You already did.”

Jack’s face crumpled, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t fight.

And that was how you knew it was really over.

You took another step back, then another. Jack watched you go, his expression unreadable, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

But this time, when you walked out the door, he didn’t follow.

When you finally stepped onto the street, the cold air biting at your skin, you realized something:

You would spend the rest of your life trying to forget Jack.

But he would always be the one memory you could never erase.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ JH86 MASTERLIST ✷ MAIN MASTERLIST

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #nhl x reader #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #jack hughes x you #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes angst #nhl x you #nhl fic #nhl #hockey #✷ isaadore

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bunny-jpeg · 9 hours ago

Text

sinful sentences (twelve)

mark webber - "tell me exactly what you want."

tags: smut/pwp, porn au, pornstar!mark & reader, daddy kink, age gap (mid-20s/late-40s), dom!mark, sub!reader, filming, aftercare, doggy style, dirty talk/degrading language, intense bdsm (there is a safe-word)

sinful sentences catalogue

"chin up, beautiful." mark's words were in your head as your gae was leveled with the camera in your face. you stuck out your chest a little more and stuck out your bottom lip in a pout.

the audience ate it up. a little starlet in the amateur porn scene with your lover, mark webber. both of you starring in hits such as "bad girl finally meets her match" and "bratty bottom finally gets the daddy she asked for". both played up your size and age differences. you in your mid-twenties and mark pushing fifty. he even let the greys come in a little to make the differences more striking.

younger woman who gets fucked silly by an older man with a dirty talk that would make anyone watching blush. and despite most of your fucking being on camera, mark was proud that you were all his.

he roughly patted your cheek and said, "tell me exactly what you want. tell the lovely people at home too. i'm sure they want to know what whorish thing you want tonight." he made a small 'tsk' noise and pinched your cheek, "answer me, baby. hate to put you over my knee tonight. still bruised from last night."

your ass was still marked purple, with mark's hand print seen at a certain light. he made quite the mess of you the night prior. your sex was intense, mark liked to bite you, mark you. the time he wore his name across your chest and had you bounce on his cock till he finished inside of you. he liked to bind you, gag you, blindfold you. he had a collection of toys that your gummy little pussy was quite familiar with.

it was filth, the kind of porn that would make the deepest pervert blush. mark held your face and made you look at the camera, his thumb trailed across your bottom lip before he sank it into your plush mouth. and you obeyed and sucked on it like you would his cock.

"dirty little thing, aren't ya? so cute. look at you. daddy's little stupid whore. i'm glad i got you out of whatever small town hell you came from, probably would've been the town slut by now. legs more open than a mcdonalds." he chuckled lightly. he took his thumb out and petted your hair roughly, "but instead you're allowed to be a total whore in my home. was worried an old man like me wouldn't be able to keep up with you. but i think i make it work. don't you think?"

and you nodded, there was heavy heat in your cheeks while you remained on your knees. your hands in your lap, obscuring your pussy from the cold gaze of the camera. you were certain your audience could identify you from your pussy alone.

"good girl. good girl." mark purred, "keep daddy happy, huh? trained you just right. if you tried to fuck another man you'd be lost. but you don't want to run off do you?" he pulled his hand away to grope and the hard-on in his jeans, "daddy won't let that happen. you'd be a lost little puppy out on the streets. have to put up posters to bring you home."

you felt your core tense, you were soaked and it excited you. his words were like extra spicy honey, it burned as it soaked into your mind. it left your stomach in knots as you anticipated for what was to come next. you'd take it eagerly.

"pretty thing, huh? look at you. always perfect for the cameras. i bet so many perverts online jerk off to you every day. wishing they were in my spot right now. too bad for them, because only i get to ruin you, right?"

you nodded and replied, "yes, daddy."

"good girl, not use the last of that brain of yours to get on the bed before i fuck it out of you. and don't you dare touch yourself. that's my property." his voice was low and radiated through you. it made you only more wet. your slick dampened your inner thighs as you got up and headed to the bedroom.

the video stopped and mark only resumed it now on a tripod with the both of you stark naked. the viewer could see the crudely writing on your upper thigh, "belongs to mark. don't touch." a possessive warning in sharpie. you knelt on the bed facing the camera. a full display of your slutty body.

mark was behind you, his large hands on your form. he felt you up while he kissed your neck. occasionally he glanced at the camera and would smirk at it. he loved to record and post videos of you two fucking like animals, but he still had a throb of jealousy in his soul that was only cured by plunging his cock deep inside of you.

"tell the people at home how it feels. i bet they'd love to reach through the screen and feel how soft you are. cute little thing aren't you? obedient like a bitch. a fucking dog." he purred.

you swallowed, "daddy."

"shh, shh. don't talk. good girls don't talk, they listen. no need to run that mouth of yours or else i might find something better to fill it with. keep you gagging on something to shut you up." he said as he played with your nipples which made you squeeze your thighs together, "because you're a whore, right? sell videos of me fucking you. disgusting."

you whimpered, "please, daddy. i am a good girl."

mark chuckled lowly, "not too sure about that. you like being degraded. you like being marked up, you love being used by me. should write 'cum dump' on you next time. show everyone how much of a slut you are. owned piece of ass." he patted your thigh where the writing was.

you yelped as your face collided with the bed with your bare ass up. it was leveled with his heavy cock, he was thick to the point that you had to be soaked to take him. thankfully tonight he was able to sink into you without any issues.

your pussy like a vice around his cock as he shoved your face into the covers. you let him use your body as he so desired. he rocked up into you and yanked your hair to face the camera.

"give them a show, angel. or else they might turn off." he said as he held onto your head while he fucked up into your sweet little cunt. it was soaked. your dirty kink was that you got off to it being rough. you loved mark's rough hands on your skin as he worked his cock into you.

you whimpered as he fucked you, you tried to keep your eyes open but the pleasure made them flutter closed. mark felt like he was shifting things in your body, bruising your insides in a way that made you shudder.

"take it, fuck. that's right, angel. give our viewers something to get off to. that's all your good for. stupid girl who only thinks about cock and how to get it. must be why i have a collar and a short leash to keep you on."

you panted, your mouth open as you tried to get as much air as you could into your lungs. you held onto the covers and arched your back as he battered your insides. it was intense, the kind of intensity that made your toes curled.

but what made your core throb even more was when mark leaned in to you and said softly, "remember, rose. if it all gets too much, remember our safe word." rose. all that needed to said in order to end the scene. his voice was low enough that the camera didn't pick it up.

you nodded and kept your head up as he fucked you deeply. his cock brushed up against all the right places. it felt like a tight fit as he worked himself against you. it made your brain buzzed from the strong thrusts he moved against you.

"look at yourself, baby. can you see that in the viewfinder? the way you shake when i fuck you. like you were made for this. the entire internet has see your fat tits and your pretty pussy. but none of them will ever taste you. right? because you're mine, you belong to daddy."

"yes." you whimpered.

"say it, angel. c'mon, use those big girl words of yours." he smacked your ass as he pushed your face right into the covers, he held you by the back of your neck as he fucked you feverishly.

you whimpered, not even able to be heard. your voice muffled by the covers. mark already knew the answer, you were his. you belonged to him and only him. he was being generous and sharing with the public every curve, every mole and dimple on your bare skin. he made a mess of you for the camera because he allowed it. he could be quite the giving man.

the pleasure was a buzz in your brain, it was heat in your blood. it made your head spin as you panted pathetically onto the bed. everything washed over you.

"cum for me, baby. i can feel you. you feel good." he purred as he yanked your hair once more, "come on, angel. cum for the camera." his hips worked against you, his cock throbbed inside of your achy cunt as he pulled an orgasm out of you. he heard your sweet noises as you climaxed which only made him move faster.

his cock ached inside of you, he fucked you quickly. he held your face towards the camera and made you that all the viewers were focused on how good he made you feel.

"look at you. internet's favourite whore. my favourite whore." he bounced you up against his cock quickly. he tensed up for a moment as he felt the pleasure swirl in his brain. he gave a few more rough strokes before he finished inside of you.

you moaned once more before the scene ended. you felt distant as pleasure filled your core. you felt mark pull out then work to end the video to edited later.

the porn personas faded away as mark said to you softly, "are you okay, honey?" you looked up at him through bleary eyes and gave him a thumbs up. he ruffled your hair and said, "let's get you cleaned up."

"can you get me some more ice cream? this is really good." you stayed curled up with your lover in bed, you were dressed in a fluffy white robe and your hair was wet from a steamy bath. you were both seated up but you had your bare legs across his lap. in your hands was a pint of ice cream.

mark took you gently my the head and kissed the top of your head, "sorry, pumpkin, that's it till we go grocery shopping tomorrow. plus, it's late. i don't want you having a stomach ache."

"but honey." you pouted at him.

he shook his head and took you by the cheeks to kiss you on the lips, "don't wanna hear it, angel. finish up then brush your teeth. if you feel any aches tomorrow, i'll run you a bath."

that was what you liked about mark. no matter how intense the scene was. how much he put you through, he would make sure that you were okay after filming. a good dominant never left his submissive out to dry after a scene.

he could degrade you, smack you, spit on you, ruin you in every way as long as you didn't use the safe word or signal. and then always afterwards he spoiled you. because you may be a raunchy star, but you'd always be mark's good girl. <3

#bunny writes #sinful sentences #reader insert #formula 1 #formula one imagine #formula one smut #f1 smut #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #formula one #mark webber x y/n #mark webber x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber smut #mark webber

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loserlvrss · 2 days ago

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｡｡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 ( 이.𝐌𝐇 )─────엔시티

( 二月 ). ──your best friend fell asleep on you, and suddenly he wasn't your friend anymore 이민형 &fem!rea. ⟡ drabble, fluff warn. kiss wc : 807HUN ++( ��𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈 )

노트 mark, as promised <3

You don’t know how it happened, however you weren’t complaining. No, nothing of the sort even crossed your mind.

All that was on your mind was how comfortable you felt despite the pins and needles in your hip. How warm you felt with arms wrapped around your waist. You could hear soft breaths taken against the silent air—your show lost on the ‘continue watching’ screen some time ago.

You’d blinked yourself awake a couple of minutes ago, not even realizing that you’d actually fallen asleep. When you woke up, you didn’t even know what day it was anymore either, pushed into the worst brain fog. However, the dream you were having was all sunshine and rainbows, you almost regretted coming back to reality. Well, that was until you saw that your best friend, Mark, had also fallen victim to just resting his eyes.

But then, reality hit, making your stomach drop.

Your best friend had fallen asleep too, somehow ending up with his head pressed into your side and arms paralyzing.

You bit your lip, feeling a little bad about reveling in such an intimate thing for friends to be doing. Of course you’d shared hugs and even held hands, Hell, it seemed he couldn’t be more than a couple inches from you sometimes, but that was always innocent. That was always because you were feeling uncomfortable, or anxious or something of the sort.

There was never anything between the lines to read.

Butterflies made you nauseous. You liked the feeling he instilled, but you hated that you shouldn’t actually be feeling it at all.

Should you wake him up? You could pretend you hadn’t been staring at him for the past however long then. But, on the other hand, you could make it a thing. Afterall, It was an opportunity to make the feeling yours to hold—make him yours to hold.

But No. No, you couldn’t.

You were friends, nothing more and nothing less. There were never any shades of gray. No stolen glances or prolonged eye contact. There was no tension, no lingering touches or sense of fleeting time. There was nothing, and you didn’t know anymore if you could take it.

People hadn’t even mistaken you for a couple before, and it hurt your pride a bit.

Why couldn’t you swallow it down and ask? Too scared to lose what you already had? Circles and circles you’d been running, but not getting very far. All the destinations led back to one thing—one very, very special man.

The man you loved.

You groaned at the thought, head hitting the arm of the couch. And suddenly Mark was awake, very aware of the position you two were in. It was your movement of disappointment (in yourself) that stirred him, your breathing and heartbeat queuing him in. The soft plush that only a body had, making him get up faster than you thought humanly possible.

“Oh my God,” He put his hands up like he was surrendering, “I’m sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep after you. I didn’t mean to,”

You lifted your head through all the commotion, being met with the sight that made your heart pick up speed. He looked so adorable half-awake; hair messy, and features swollen.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized again, “It just happened, like on an airplane when your head just—you know, drifts. You looked so peaceful, I guess I got jealous.” He tried to joke, an awkward laugh leaving his lips after the rant subsided.

You’d sat up some time during when he was talking at you, “It’s fine,” You sighed, now regretting ruining the moment more than turning your good dream off like the show you hadn’t been comprehending.

He was right, it was peaceful.

Mark brought peace to your life, a sense of clarity during the worst storm you’d ever lived through. He was the rain that brought flowers, the rainbow that brought color.

He was everything right in a left world.

“Don’t apologize to me.”

And just as quickly as he’d lifted from you, he was back in your space, this time soft lips against yours. Your eyes were wide when he pulled back, then his were too.

His mouth was slightly parted, broken sounds leaving it without real substance. You assumed they’d be more apologies, so before he had the chance to gather his thoughts you leaned back in, closing the distance you thought you’d put between you two.

Your hands found the side of his head, palms resting on his cheeks, pulling him as close as you could get. And, he didn’t protest.

You couldn’t decide if maybe you hadn’t actually woken up, because if you were having a good dream before, then this was the best one.

Your stomach was doing Olympic-level flips, gold medal acrobatics. But, at least, you could say the feeling was yours.

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formylovetodaryldixon · 1 day ago

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"You are." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

To Daryl, you are different, you are special, you are everything. But when his jealousy over a "prank" from your friend leads to a misunderstanding you can't resolve, and an incident the next day that nearly costs you your life, it causes Daryl to have a huge revelation about his feelings for you.

@artsynana: heyy dear!! i was wondering if you could ever write something with some soft jealous daryl x reader at the prison era, btw i love the way you write daryl🥰

A/N: Hi love. First, sorry! I didn't know you had left a request :( but thank you so much for doing it. This is a little short and different :( and a little more dramatic, but I really hope you like it♥ And for your words, thank u again! I think I write Daryl a little bit off the character, but I guess it's because I picture him like that hehe

Daryl Dixon is not a possessive person, never, but he is not made of steel either, that’s way he’s unable to stop jealousy from creeping up on him.

The night is ending inside the prison, the heat of the day floating in the air, but the still warm weather seems to hang over Daryl almost in a suffocating way. As he continues to wait for his dinner, he has a panoramic view of you across the dining room, sitting in the long steel chair, elbows on the table, always accompanied by that pretty boy Sean, with his stupid green eyes and that stupid smile, following you ever since Daryl rescued his group from the governor.

And Daryl hates not being able to hate you for the senseless jealousy that you make him feel now, as he thought he did in the past.

Daryl hated you for being a badass, like the afternoon you showed up to save his ass back in Atlanta, like a force of nature, like a fucking storm–sweeping away the little peace he managed to find at the end of the world, shaking his own with your magnetic presence. But he also hated how your strong gaze could rest, turning you into an angel when he could see the tenderness in your soft smile, and your dreamy eyes when things got a little bit better in that grey world.

The secret of his hate was because of your selfishness, your wild and free heart, and that fucking dimple that formed on your left cheek, so yeah, he fell hard for that, he fell hard for you. But no one knew about your relationship, everyone blind to those little displays of affection: the casual brush of your hands, the secret smiles, the way his hand rested on the side of your neck before he kissed you.

“You are like… staring much. Don't you think?" Carol chuckles beside him, making Daryl look away from you as he takes his plate. "Damn, pookie, you are not subtle at all."

She continues with the bland jokes; the same ones she’s been making since Carol caught the way Daryl looked at you.

"Shut up." He hisses, turning his attention back to the food.

But Carol is not ready to give up.

"I once read that when a feeling is silenced, bottled up or imprisoned, the eyes, the lover’s gazes scream everything."

Daryl frowns, confused.

"What the hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout?"

She chuckles, crossing her arms.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just saying that maybe you should start making it clear to everyone that (Y/N) is with you."

He clears his throat, but the heat on his cheeks burns more than the sun on that season.

"Ya knew?"

"No. You just told me." Carol turns around towards the pot to serve herself a plate, Daryl narrowing his eyes at her, even if she isn’t looking at him.

"But, uh... like what?" He asks after a few seconds, hoping that Carol will understand the question without him having to spell it out for her.

She shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe approach her not only when you two are alone.”

Carol smiles at Daryl, walking away to leave him with the weight of his thoughts.

Daryl Dixon is a strong man, to survive, to protect, but as a boy who grew tall but is still a boy on the inside, he feels lost with the feelings he keeps inside him, not knowing what to do with them. He had had casual encounters in bars, but was too drunk to even remember, to even care about them. But you are different, you are special, you are everything. That’s why, even with his heart hammering in his chest, Daryl walks over to the last table, eyes fixed on your profile, his sometimes noisy mind disappearing the rest as he sets his plate down on the table before sitting down next to you, ignoring the confused look from Sean, who was silent for a second in shock before resuming his story of a past life on his farm with the rest.

“The lake water is cold during that season…” He keeps talking, oblivious to the way you hold your breath when you feel Daryl's fingers on your lower back.

But out of nowhere, his hand begins to seek out the skin beneath, a light touch over the edge of your black t–shirt until he finds the warmth of your flesh. Your back arches slightly beneath his calloused fingers on your skin, but you try to control your body as your dirty thoughts begin to overflow.

The small group is so wrapped up in the funny anecdote that no one notices the way Daryl leans in close.

"Breathe, peach, ‘fore ya pass out."

His words are the jolt back to reality, and you let out a breath as you squint, your hand darting from your lap to his leg, only to pinch his skin over his pants with your fingers. As a reflex, his leg jumps slightly, but Daryl takes the attack with a smirk that is almost imperceptible to the rest of them, but not to you.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" Sean glances in your direction, catching your gaze and a confused expression that silently prompts him to repeat his question. "You told me you dated a guy who looked like me."

Confused, you clear your throat.

“Yeah. Uh, but we separated long before all this...”

Mary nods, a young woman who came with Sean’s group.

“Wow. He must have been really handsome. But did you love him, (Y/N)?”

Your skin feels cold again when Daryl's hand leaves your body, even if your skin feels boiling hot when the attention falls on you like the midday sun in that stifling season. As if someone had put their hand on your throat until it was blocked from air, your uncomfortable laughter comes out muffled, but you don’t answer before changing topics. But it's sad that after a short while, Daryl stands up to go to his own cell, his thoughts run wild about the jealousy he feels about that guy, thinking that there was someone who made you feel something when, for him, you were his first everything.

When dinner time is over and everyone returns to their cells, you find yourself timidly entering Daryl's cell only because his door was still open, but staying close to it. He’s lying on his back, eyes fixed on the arrow in his hands just to keep himself busy.

“Hey. Uh, can we talk?”

“’bout what?”

His voice is flat, not a single emotion in it.

“About what happened in the dining room with Sean.”

“What ‘bout it?”

You shrug, even if he isn’t looking at you.

“Don’t know exactly, but I think I made you feel uncomfortable.”

Daryl scoffs.

“Ya didn't make me feel anythin’.”

His words form a lump in your throat, completely silencing the truth you were going to tell, just because your own anxious mind tells you that you don't make him feel anything, at all, like never, and that is painful.

“Okay, uh, I don’t want to force you to talk so… I guess I’m gonna go. Oh, we'll leave early tomorrow for the run, by the way.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You sigh, walking away.

But jealousy is an irrational force, but a force of nature that resembles a hurricane, or any destructive phenomenon inside a timid and fearful mind: that’s why when the early morning arrives and the first ray of sun shines on the horizon, Daryl decides to switch places with Glenn, just so he wouldn't be stuck with his thoughts of you in a car for hours.

However, the day grows tedious for him, even in the small details like the wind blowing dust into his face, or the way the walkers keep piling up against the fence, taking the place of the lifeless body when Daryl stabs his knife into their skulls. But before his ocean–blue eyes can see the car returning at a worrying speed, his ears can hear the horn, like a desperate call that makes his heart wake up frantically.

“Someone is hurt.” Carol tells him, a second before they start running towards the main fence.

Maggie and Rick are closer and they open the gates, the car raising tornadoes of dust until it stopped inside the prison. Michonne steps out of the passenger seat as Daryl and Carol arrive to meet her, Bob and Glenn following as she begins to narrate the horror story.

“… and one of those men was behind me, (Y/N) shot him but another stabbed her in the abdomen.”

The back door of the car is open, but like a roller coaster of emotions, Daryl’s heart is so up that it threatens to stop because of the fear, as if it stopped pumping blood to replace it with an infinite void. But he refuses to listen to the death whispering in his ear that you won’t make it as he carries you, arms under your shoulders and knees.

“Call Hershel!” He says, to whoever is faster as Daryl starts waking fast, because, even though he wants to run to catch the seconds that seem to slip away, your body feels as fragile as porcelain.

And it’s crazy, it’s wild the way Herself has to perform a surgery to control the bleeding on the same table where the night before your and his playful fingers had teased each other, minutes before ruining it all with your silence and his jealousy. But when it's all over and the madness has cleared like a thick fog, he finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed, taking in the way your closed eyelids make you look like you're just asleep and not unconscious.

“She will make up, Daryl.” Carol says softly, standing close to him. “It’s late, you should rest.”

He shakes his head.

“Nah. I’m stayin’ here with her. Don’ want her to be alone when she does.”

Carol nods, knowing perfectly nothing will change his mind.

“Okay, Pookie, I will come to check on you both in the morning.”

She kisses his forehead, but Daryl is too absent to notice as she leaves the room. The entire prison falls into a deep sleep, and Daryl can hear the almost imperceptible sound of your breathing fighting against the almost deafening silence of his world, telling him without words that you are there, and that you are not going anywhere. But after a while, Daryl lies down on his right side, still close to the edge of the bed to give you all the space you needed, but able to leave only that small space between his body and yours.

“Fuck… now I know I love ya, peach.” He whispers, shy and scared you can hear him even like that. “That seems to be the only answer to why I almost lost ma shit when I saw ya there… bleedin’ out. Jesus, ya would probably laugh if ya saw me here now scared to death like a damn child.” Daryl tries to laugh, a nervous little laugh that falls to a heavy sigh. “Please, wake up, okay? I promise I’ll be better.”

But since there is no answer from the other end, his words hang in the air for the rest of the night, even after Daryl falls asleep. However, as the sun begins to peek through one of the prison's tall windows one more time, your eyelids open slightly, the world in front of you blurring for an instant, until your scattered senses become one and focus on the pain pounding your abdomen.

But still, you turn your head slightly to the side when your peripheral vision catches a body beside yours, smiling weakly at the image before you. Daryl's hair covers part of his closed eyes, but his slight frown reflects his concern, even if you don't know that.

You raise your arm until your hand touches the skin of his face, soft flesh under your fingers.

“Daryl?” Your voice brings him back easily, walking him up from that terrifying dream as he sits up, his hand cupping the side of your face just to feel that you're actually awake.

"Ya okay, peach, ya okay."

“Am I? Since when I’m here?”

Daryl sighs, but he decides to mask his fear with humor, just because he feels like he can spill all his feelings for you in a single second.

“Jus' a day, but ya took yer sweet time to wake up, woman.”

“Sorry.”

You chuckle shyly, but his gaze turns soft.

“Nah. Don’t be, I’m jus’ so glad ya came back.” Concern allows him to smile slightly, before telling you that he's going to go find Hershel.

The examination lasts a few minutes, until you two are left alone, again.

“Daryl…” One more time, your voice pulls his eyes towards yours the moment he sits back down. “Sean was messing with you. You know? I was going to tell you about it that night before all this, but you didn’t want to listen and I didn’t want to push you to.”

Embarrassed, Daryl lowers his head a little bit, watching you through his long hair.

“M’ sorry, peach. I was jealous of ‘em and I ended up sayin’ the wrong shit again.”

Them.

“Daryl, that’s exactly what I was going to tell you that night. There was never another guy, Sean made up that story to get a reaction out of you because even he can see how much you want to kick his ass every time you see him coming." You chuckle. "Besides, he’s gay.”

Daryl blinks, confused like never in his life.

“He is?”

You nod.

“Yep, really gay, but don’t worry, Sean has a crush on Glenn because you look too intimidating for his like.” You want to laugh, but you can see his own shame sinking his heart heavily, feeling the pain and guilt for letting you go alone, because Daryl is a protector: that is in his nature.

And when things went wrong, that weight fell on his shoulders.

"Sorry, I think I screwed this thing between us."

And in a second and with an overwhelming strength, you can see his eyes becoming teary with all the feelings he has inside him.

"No. You didn't, Daryl, unless you want this to end."

But he shakes his head.

"No. I don' want it to ever end."

You nod softly.

"Good." When your hand catches his, Daryl clings to it, but you don't force him to talk because you know better than anyone that it was difficult for him to express himself. "Now come, lie down and try to sleep. Okay?”

He nods, laying down next to you, too overwhelmed to speak his mind at that very moment, his hand still holding yours even after he falls asleep when his mind can no longer carry the full weight of his thoughts. But while he does, you can't help but smile slightly, because now, awake, you are convinced that his voice saying I love you was not just part of the dream you were having, sweet words you hope you can tell him soon.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you

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miniwheat77 · 7 hours ago

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Secret Weapon. (Ghost x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, unprotected p in v sex, violence, war, blood, NO MINORS! This was a request that’s been sitting in my inbox a while :)

This is not edited.

“Captain.. what the fuck do we do?” Gaz pants out. His back is pressed firmly against the wall.

John thinks for a moment. What does he do?

Nikolai is unavailable. But he’s got an idea.

He lifts up his radio, turning it to a channel he hasn’t been on in years.

“Viper 1-1 page back.” He calls into the radio.

“Viper 1-1, copy.”

“We’re trapped on a rooftop.” Captain Price recites your coordinates. He had heard in passing that the pilot was nearby on another mission.

“Thirty-five out, we’re on the way.”

He sighs.

“Thank god.” He mumbles. The four are stuck on the rooftop. No where to go and hardly any ammo.

“We’re?” Gaz asks. They remember who the pilot is.

They fight all they can, all hope is about to be lost when the loud rumble of the helicopter comes.

The buzzing sound makes them perk up, seeing the flashback from the gun inside. They can’t see the person holding it.

Captain Price watches with a smile. The helicopter stays airborne until there is no one moving on the ground. They watch it land a couple hundred feet away, seeing two people get out of it. Clearing buildings as they make their way to the four.

The door finally opens, the four standing up. They’d been using the brick walls as cover.

You’re the first to step into their view, but you’ve got a ski mask on.

You grasp the hem of it, pulling it over your head.

You smile.

“Long time no see, Captain.” You nod.

“Shit. I could tell by how good the shots were that it was you.” He laughs. Pulling you in for a hug, hugging the pilot next.

The others watch, stunned.

“Oh uh… boys. This is Y/N.” He nods.

“My secret weapon.��

They take the time to shake your hand, introducing themselves to you.

But Ghost is completely taken off guard by you.

The way your hair falls after you take the mask, the fact that he didn’t expect to see a girl, let alone one was pretty as you.

What the hell?

You’d just saved his life. He was all out of ammo holed up in one building, if you hadn’t come? He wouldn’t even be alive to tell the tale.

It was the start of something Ghost never saw coming. Not in a million years.

———

It took a lot of convincing for you to join the task force.

Since you had made friends with the men, they bothered you to no limit to join. They liked you. You were skilled. They wanted you around all of the time.

When you eventually joined, Ghost spiraled completely out of control.

He avoided you like the plague because he knew what was coming and he was scared. He started drinking more, hiding in his room more. Socializing less and everyone noticed.

But only Johnny had caught on as to why.

He was falling in love with you, and he knew it.

He was falling and he was falling hard and he knew the only end to that free fall is the hard concrete when he lands. Ghost didn’t love. He didn’t because there was only heartbreak and hurt.

The first time it happened, he didn’t mean to.

You were doing your laundry, passing by his room with a basket when they fell out. He waited a while for you to come back for them but you never did so he swiped them.

A pair of panties.

Ghost was in too deep and he knew it.

Fisting his cock to the thought of you, face buried in your panties. He hated himself for what he’d become and he hated you for what you’d done to him. You’d made him a fool and he’d only spoken to you in passing.

He didn’t know what to do, so he did the only thing he could think of.

Kill.

On missions he was ruthless.

He didn’t know anything other than violence and pain. So he pushed himself to no limit. Working hard, staying up late. Taking extra watch and beating himself up mentally day and night about how weak he’d become all because of a woman.

He spent hours and hours training and working out. He’d lost count the days he’d spent in the shooting range and his death toll jumped by hundreds and grew more and more with each mission he went out on. Ghost was smart and skilled. He understood everything but the only thing he couldn’t figure out was you.

Finally, Johnny cornered him.

Ghost was walking to his room, Johnny was hot on his tail, asking how he was doing.

“Fine Johnny. Leave it be.” He mumbles, he goes to close his door but Soap doesn’t let him have it. Catching it with his boot and walking in, closing the door behind himself. “There’s something wrong with you, you’ve got the entire bloody task force worried sick about ya so you better start talkin.” He growls.

Ghost raises his eyebrows. Johnny had never spoken to him like that before.

“‘Scuse me?”

“You heard what I said, Ghost.”

He crosses his arms and Soap doesn’t let feel intimidated by him, of course he does. But Ghost is his friend. He cares about him.

“Full offense Johnny, piss off. We’re not teenage girls and I don’t intend on sharing my feelings with you so I think you should leave.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll set up camp until you’re ready to talk about it.” He stands his ground. Ghost sighs. “I don’t know how to talk about it Johnny. I don’t even know what’s wrong myself.”

“That’s a start, LT. The hell has gotten into you? You’re like a machine. Wake up, eat, kill, sleep.”

Ghost sighs.

“That girl.”

Realization hits Soap like a ton of bricks.

“I just..” he sighs. Sitting down on his bed. “I don’t know.”

“You have feelings for her?” Soap asks.

“I’d say I have more than just feelings for her, Johnny.” Ghost wipes his face through his mask. “Shit LT.”

“No kidding.”

“Well you won’t get the girl by being so reclusive sir.”

“My plan isn’t to get the girl Johnny, life is painful enough as is!” He groans.

“Yeah, well life is too short to worry about what hurts and let what you’ll enjoy pass you. So get out there and try. Christ in heaven you’re a brick wall.” He groans.

Ghost sighs. Johnny is right.

“Whatever Johnny, I have a lot to think about so.. kindly. Go to bed.”

“Fine. But we’re not done about this and you know it.” Soap rolls his eyes, leaving through the door. He can’t believe it. Ghost was in love with you.

———

“Ghost page back.” Captain mumbles into the radio.

“Copy.”

“Soap is feeling ill. You mind taking over his 0100 patrol?”

“Not at all sir.”

Ghost finishes up what he’s doing and prepares for the patrol.

Since they’re out of the states and in enemy territory they have patrol often.

“Great, you’ll be with Y/N.”

Ghost freezes in his spot.

“Johnny page back.”

“Copy.”

“I see you in person, you’re a dead man MacTavish.”

“Already in for the night sir, door’s locked. See you tomorrow.”

Ghost can’t see it but the scot snickers to himself inside his room. Feeling very well actually.

Ghost meets up with you just before your patrol together and wants to crawl into a hole and die. You were so beautiful and there was nothing he could do about it.

It’s quiet for a while. The two of you walking alongside each other. It’s pitch dark out. The only lights come from the base. “So. How long you know Price for?” He’s trying to make small talk. Something that takes you off guard. He never seemed to be this open.

“Since I started in the military actually. He was at the convention I enlisted at.” You smile. “Really? I forget how old the man is.” He laughs. “I totally did not think you were this outgoing, Ghost.” You laugh. “What do you mean?”

“You just do not seem the type for small talk.” You smile.

He chuckles. “Nah, the mask makes me unapproachable but that not intentional.”

“Than why do you wear it?”

“To hide my identity. I’ve killed a lot of people and don’t want retaliation.”

“Don’t they just know to go after the guy in the skull mask though?” You side eye him. “Yeah, but when I wear it I want to be found.”

“Good point.” You smile.

“Stop.” He throws a hand up in front of you suddenly. “Woah-“ you mumble. He looks around, every alarm in his body is going off.

“What is it?” You ask. “Something doesn’t feel right.” He mumbles. He draws out his flashlight, shining at the ground. He doesn’t see anything, not for the first few feet at least. After that is when he notices indents in the sand. Footprints.

He follows them straight up to the barbed wire fence around the base.

“Price page back.”

He waits a minute.

“Captain Price page back.”

“Copy, what is it?”

“Footprints leading up to the Southwest fence. We’ll follow them and make sure it’s not a threat but we haven’t covered the north yet.” He says it into his radio and waits.

“Garrick and I will cover it, just be safe. Page back every ten until you know it’s clear.”

“Yes sir.”

Ghost tilts his head, letting you know to follow him.

You do just that.

It takes a couple miles of walking before you spot a building in the distance, thank god for night vision.

Ghost posts up and watches for a while, not seeing any movement. The two of you approach, you go slow. You never do see any movement, the building is severely run down, the roof is in bad shape and it’s dirty. “Do you think they’re human footprints?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Hard to say with the sand. Could be an animal of some kind. Could explain the staggering of them.” He explains.

You nod your head. “Looks like everything is clear Captain, we’re going to look around a bit and than head back.”

“Got it, we’re heading for bed. Page if you need anything else Simon.”

You step inside the run down building, it was once someone’s house. Out in the middle of nowhere.

Odd.

The rooms inside seem intact, aside from being dusty, frozen in time. Plants have taken over and some of the dishes that remain are broken but the bedrooms are still completely normal. The beds are made.

You walk inside and sit down on a bed, groaning. “I don’t wanna walk back yet.” You whine. “Take a break.” He laughs. “Okay.”

He chuckles. That didn’t take much convincing.

“Can I show you something?” He asks. “Sure, what is it?”

He moves to sit next to you, grasping his mask. Your eyes widen when he pulls it straight off. “You’re showing me this why? Explain yourself?” You laugh,

“No that’s not what I wanted to show you, this is.”

He grasps your chin and goes for it.

All the money in the pot. A gamble of a lifetime.

He plants his lips straight on yours and his blood rushes through him, his heart pounding so loud it’s all he hears. He expects you to pull back. To be disgusted with him.

But you don’t. You meet him in the middle and kiss him back even harder.

He pushes you back on the dusty bed raising himself up over you, one leg resting between yours. His thigh is flush with your clothed opening. He doesn’t stop kissing you, he takes even further.

When you feel his tongue on yours, you finally pull away with a gasp.

“Ghost-“ you pant.

“Simon. Call me Simon.” He breathes. “W-why are you doing this?” You hiss as he pushes his thigh further into you. “Because I’ve waited long enough to get my fucking hands on you. I can’t take it anymore.” He groans. You hadn’t expected him to be so forward, you also didn’t expect how handsome he’d be without a mask on. How overly willing he was to expose himself to you shows you that he trust you, and obviously had more feelings for you than he let on. Ghost didn’t just act out of lust, Johnny told you that.

Now you realize why you’d had that conversation earlier in the day. Fucking scot.

He gets your vest unzipped and grasps hold of your shirt, ripping it straight down the middle. He hears you gasp. “Simon!”

“Quiet, I’ll replace it with twenty more.” He breathes.

The click of his pocket knife makes you freeze. But he’s skilled with it, moving quickly, slicing the small slit of fabric holding your bra together. He shoves the fabric off of you and cups your breasts with his hands, leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth while he toys with the other. Pinching it between his fingers and tugging on it. You whine out, raising your hips and rutting yourself into his thigh. Ghost is the person you talked to the very least, yet here you are. On display for him.

“God you’re a fucking minx.” He hisses. He sits up and watches you roll your hips into his thigh. Desperate for him to touch you. You realize something.

“You’re the one who’s been stealing my panties, aren’t you?” You smirk.

He visibly blushes.

“You’re a cheeky thing! I can’t believe it’s been you!” You gasp. “Shut up.” He hisses. He doesn’t like to be embarrassed, you’re lucky it’s you or he would’ve told you to get fucked by now. “Fuck, how many have you gotten away with?”

He shrugs. “Lot more than you’d expect.”

“You’re such a fucking pervert.” You laugh.

“Yeah, you’d think even worse of me if you knew what I did with them.” He growls. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck, attacking your skin with his teeth and lips. Pushing his hand down the front of your waistband. He glides his fingers over your pussy, hearing you whine.

“Now I want to know. What you did with them.”

He chuckles, it’s dark.

“The smell of you is intoxicating, darling.”

You moan out. “Fuck I shouldn’t think that’s hot but I do.” You mewl. Lips parted as he sucks at your throat. Your jugular vein is pulsing and he can’t feel it with his tongue. He rests his hand over your head. “Been waiting weeks for a taste of you, doll. Now we’re here.” He groans, kissing roughly down your center. He’s rough as he tugs your pants down your legs, barely taking the time to unbutton them. You thought maybe he’d cut those off too, not that you’d mind anyways.

He kisses further down, hearing your breathing pick up even more as he presses lower. He doesn’t start slow like you thought he would. Starting by sucking directly on your clit, making you flinch.

You hiss, jumping away from him. You hear him chuckles as he starts his assault on it.

“Poor thing, so sensitive.” He smirks.

“Shut up before I ride your face, Riley.” You hiss, pushing a hand in his hair.

“Oh no?” He smirks. You roll your eyes.

He lowers his head back down, gliding his tongue up your slip.

Like a predator toying with its prey.

Just before he devours you whole.

He doesn’t relent, no matter how much you cry or squirm. He holds you down by your thighs. He presses his tongue into your opening, rubbing your clit with his nose like a dog. He’s filthy.

You didn’t think Ghost was the type to be so dirty. When he’s got you right on the edge, crying out in pure bless. You’re about to beg him not to stop but he draws back anyways. His lips are wet in your arousal. His cheeks are flushed pink, pupils blown wide with lust.

He sits up, grasping his shirt and forcing it over his head, going for his cargo pants next.

You’re watching him in a daze. Drunk off his lips and how he’s made you feel.

“I was normal until you came along, hm. Didn’t think I could feel what I feel until you saved our asses on that rooftop. I thought I’d be okay until you pulled that damned ski mask off and showed your fuckin’ face and now I don’t think I’ll be okay again. You’ll pay for it darling.”

He moves himself over the top of you, thrusting himself straight inside you to the hilt, you’re crying out.

“You’ll pay for it by letting me have this pussy whenever I want it.” He growls.

He’s relentless. Doesn’t matter how much you fall apart or how much you cry. He doesn’t let up. He’s rough, his pace is bruising. You can’t get out a single word as he works his hips into yours, using his thumb to rub circles on your swollen clit.

You’re impossibly wet around him, clutching at the old sheets so hard your knuckles go white. He laughs. He snaps his hips into yours, feeling how wet you are around him. Moaning and whining, writhing from the pleasure he’s giving you. You’ve never felt something so intense before. Not in your life.

He forces you to roll over, gasping out at the loss of him but he doesn’t give you long. Once you’re on your stomach, he’s raising you your hips and thrusting back into you. Pushing your face roughly into the mattress and holding your hands behind your back.

“Fuckin hell Simon!” You cry.

You feel good of course, but you need him to relent. Just for a minute at least.

“So much-“ you cry. “You’re mine. Say it.” He growls. “Maybe I’ll let up.”

“I’m yours!” You sob.

“Say it again!” He growls. He grips your hands hard.

“I’m yours Simon- fuck! I’m yours!” He buries himself inside of you to the hilt, slowing his speed but not his force. He pulls you up by your arms, still holding them behind you. Your eyes widen when you realize there’s a mirror above the bed. It’s broken and dusty but that doesn’t mean you can’t see yourselves in it.

He wraps his hands around your waist, still fucking into you but he’s being gentler now. Slow.

“Say it again.” His voice is a low growl. You almost miss it.

“I’m yours.” You whine. Raising your hand to touch his cheek.

“Again.” He growls even louder. Pushing into your belly. “I- I’m yours Simon. All fucking yours.” You’re nearly chanting it.

You sob, tears spilling over your eyelids.

“Now fucking scream it.” He grits his teeth, thrusting straight up into that spongy spot deep inside of you, sending you straight into your orgasm and you nearly do just that. You’re loud when you cum, barely getting out the words “I’m yours!” As you cry and sob, lurching forward and shaking through your orgasm. He fucks you through it, clutching onto you for dear life as he moans out, reaching his own high. He thrusts as deep as he’ll go before he cums. It’s a decision he may regret but right now, he doesn’t care.

You’re whimpering as he slides out of you. Taking in oxygen like it’s limited.

He helps you until you’re lying on your back again. Soothing you. He massages your skin, bringing you back down to earth.

Simon knew better than to be so rough but he lost himself.

“Shhh.. s’okay baby. I’ve got you.” He breathes. You close your eyes, steadying your breaths.

Simon was a lot of man, he knew he was.

He draws his fingertips over your chest and arms, your eyes follow them as he lets you relax.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You mumble. “I wasn’t too much was I?” He smiles.

“No- not at all. Though you came on VERY strong.” You smirk.

He laughs. “That’s the only way, baby.”

He sits up. “Now come on, we’ve got to head back before they realize we’re missing.”

“Yes sir.”

#ghost call of duty #ghost smut #ghost fanfiction #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley

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f1daydreamer · 2 days ago

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Shattered Reflections – Part 1

Pairing: George Russell x Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, heartbreak, (I am not good at warnings 😅)

Summary: The love you thought was unbreakable now feels like glass—cracking under the weight of unspoken words and hidden truths. You see the shift in George, the distance in his touch, the silence that lingers where laughter used to be. And when the truth comes out, it cuts deeper than you ever imagined.

---

The hotel room was suffocating, the air thick with something unspoken, something bitter and painful. The city lights cast long shadows against the walls, flickering like ghosts of memories you weren’t ready to let go of. You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the hem of your sweater, fingers digging into the fabric as if grounding yourself in something—anything—before you lost control.

George stood near the window, his back to you, hands shoved into his pockets. He hadn’t looked at you properly in days, maybe weeks. You used to be his home, the person he always turned to, the one he sought comfort in. Now? You felt like a stranger in your own relationship, a ghost haunting a love that had already died without you realizing it.

"Are you going to say something, or are we just going to sit here pretending everything’s fine?" Your voice broke on the last word, your throat tight, raw from the unshed tears burning behind your eyes.

George inhaled sharply, his shoulders tensing. "I don’t want to fight."

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, now you don’t want to fight? That’s funny, because for weeks, you’ve been acting like I don’t even exist, George. You come home late, you barely talk to me, and when you do, it’s like you’re not even here."

His head dipped slightly, as if he hated hearing the truth out loud. "It’s just—things have been stressful. The season, the pressure, everything. I didn’t mean to shut you out."

"Bullshit," you spat, standing up so fast that the mattress shifted beneath you. "I was there for you when things were stressful, George. I have always been there. So don’t you dare use that as an excuse for why you’re pulling away from me."

He finally turned to face you, and the look in his eyes sent a cold shiver through you. Regret. Guilt. But worst of all—resignation. Like he had already made up his mind.

"You deserve better than this," he said softly, almost too soft, like he didn’t want the words to hurt as much as they did.

Your stomach dropped. A deep, aching kind of dread settled in your bones. "What the hell does that mean?"

George ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. "It means I don’t think this is working anymore."

Silence. Deafening. Crushing.

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, slicing through your chest like a knife. You felt your hands tremble, your vision blur with tears, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet.

"You’re breaking up with me," you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

George swallowed, his jaw tightening. "I don’t want to hurt you."

A bitter laugh bubbled from your throat, sharp and jagged. "Too late for that."

Your hands curled into fists, your nails digging into your palms as the pain—God, the pain—became unbearable. "Why now? Why are you doing this? Just tell me the fucking truth, George."

He hesitated, and that hesitation was all you needed to know.

"There’s someone else, isn’t there?"

His silence was your answer.

It felt like the ground beneath you gave way, like the air had been sucked from your lungs. The tears came then, hot and fast, blurring everything until all you could see was his face—his guilty, tortured face. The same face you had loved so fiercely, so wholly, and now it was the face of the person breaking you into pieces.

"Who is she?" your voice cracked, but you needed to know. Needed to hear it.

"Y/N—"

"Who the fuck is she, George?" you screamed, your voice shattering between you like glass.

He closed his eyes, exhaling like he was carrying the weight of the world. "It’s not like that. I didn’t mean for this to happen."

"You didn’t mean for it to happen?" A sob tore through you, your chest heaving. "Do you hear yourself? Do you even realize what you’ve done?"

George stepped forward, reaching for you, but you flinched back, your entire body recoiling from his touch. "Don’t. Don’t you dare touch me."

He looked broken, but you didn’t care. He didn’t get to be broken. Not when he was the one who did this.

"You were my everything," you choked out. "And you just threw it all away like it was nothing."

Tears streamed down your face, but you didn’t wipe them away. Let him see the damage. Let him see exactly what he had done.

George took a deep breath, his own eyes glassy, but his expression was firm. "I’m sorry."

You let out a shaky, humorless laugh. "No, you’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have done this in the first place."

And with that, you turned away, because if you looked at him for even a second longer, you would break beyond repair.

But the truth was, you already had.

---

To be continued…

------

A Note from Me to You:

I wanted to take a moment to share something personal with you all. A close friend of mine recently went through a heartbreaking experience, and it’s been weighing on me. She was in a relationship for four years, a relationship she thought was built on trust and love. Unfortunately, she found out that her boyfriend had been cheating on her, and the truth cut deeper than anything she could have imagined.

What makes this situation even more complicated is that the other girl involved had no idea he was in a relationship either. It's painful to see two people hurt by someone’s betrayal—two people who never deserved any of this. It's a situation filled with hurt, confusion, and regret, and it’s been hard to watch my friend go through such an emotional storm.

To anyone who has been through something similar, know this: You are not alone. Betrayal leaves scars, but it also brings the strength to rise again, even when it feels impossible. The pain is real, and it’s valid, but you don’t have to go through it alone.

I’m sharing this not to draw attention to the hurt, but to remind us all of the importance of love, honesty, and the value of knowing our worth. If you’ve been through something like this, take time for yourself, lean on those who care for you, and always remember that your value is never determined by someone else’s actions.

This is for my friend and for anyone who’s had their trust broken. You will heal, and brighter days are ahead.

#george russell #f1 #f1 x female reader #one shot fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #oneshot #f1 fanfic #angst #getting cheated on #george russell x reader #george russell x you

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iiheartarc · 1 day ago

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MY TAKE ON THE CAITVI DISCOURSE

total wordcount: 1591

I will say that I've briefly commented on their dynamic in the past, but it was worded really badly so I feel like I need to defend my writing skills a little bit as well with this, but that's just a sidenote. 💀

I think what a lot of people are missing when people do criticise CaitVi is that they aren't necessarily hating on the ship, it's what writing choices have done to it.

I'm not even going to even say I'm a CaitVi hater, I'm not (S1 CaitVi my beloved, you deserved better), but I do think the choices that writers made this season heavily effected how audiences portrayed the ship, even including myself.

Idk I hope this insight might give some people more perspective on why CaitVi became so hated in this season, people rlly need to start looking at both sides and not taking criticism as a personal attack. It really could've been avoided too if the writers had added more time or extended the series onto a third season, but that's another issue on its own.

1. Caitlyn hits Vi

I really don't get why people are so quick to defend Caitlyn on this one, especially considering the amount of hate Vi got when she hit Powder. Are both inexcusable? Yes. But I do think that the situation is a little different when it's a fifteen year old child who had just witnessed the death of her entire family and a twenty something year old woman who took out her anger and grief on the woman she loved because she blocked her shot.

I do think that people also do ignore the immense amount of trauma that Caitlyn suffered at the hand of Jinx, but unlike when Vi 'abandoned' Powder, (again, that's a whole other conversation, we know she was not abandoned), Vi was not that direct source of anguish to Caitlyn the way Powder was to Vi. (Pls lmk if you want me to expand further on this)

Again, not excusing Vi hitting Powder, I'm pointing out the differences.

It's then also incredibly tone deaf when Caitlyn hits her on two more occasions with the same gun, the third time being played off as a joke. It really doesn't come off well, especially when Vi had been a victim of police-brutality even before the abuse she faced at the hands of the enforcers in Stillwater.

And then, even after all this, it's never addressed. It's brushed over, like Vi's entire trauma in the show, the most we get is Caitlyn brushing her hand over Vi's abdomen in the cell scene. Again, can be taken as an apology, but I think that for some very specific things (like hitting your romantic partner), verbal apologies do need to be made in order to communicate healthily and somewhat build a healthier relationship.

I don't really want to talk about the abusive implications of this, because I don't think I'm someone who can talk about it with a full understanding because that's something I've fortunately never been through, but the blatant disregard and shunning of abuse survivors when they pull up the red flags raised because of this is disgusting. In real life, or if it had even been someone else in the show, if the ship had been a heterosexual relationship, people would call Caitlyn an abuser and would be outraged that Vi had been paired with her in the end. But I digress.

1. The cell sex scene

Initially I hadn't been too bothered about this when I had first watched the episode, but when you really think about it, it shouldn't have happened. Hell, they could've had sex in Caitlyn's office and half of the criticism wouldn't have happened, the ship wouldn't be so hated and the fandom wouldn't be half as divided as it is now (from what I've seen).

First and foremost, the cell.

All I can say is wtf. It was such a poor choice it's actually unfathomable to me now. I don't know why the writers thought that it'd be a good idea for Caitlyn and Vi to have their first time in a jail cell, not only the one Jinx had been locked in, but the one Vi had herself been locked in for what we can assume to be hours. The place of her abuse should not be somewhere where the writers could possibly think would be a suitable for a victim to have such an intimate moment with her partner.

Then there's the fact that Vi had looked to have had some sort of breakdown, we see she's sh and there are literal crates in the wall from where she punched it as well as her knuckles bleeding. As soon as she sees Caitlyn, there's a parallel to when they first met, to when Vi is quite literally caged. She's clearly not in the right state of mind, and so when the scene eventually happens it inevitably comes off as wrong because Vi is incredibly emotionally vulnerable in that moment.

"But Vi initiated it!" That still doesn't make it okay. I do think that this also came with an issue of timing, but then again, as I mentioned earlier, it literally could've been in the office as they argued and it would've been recieved so much better then the cell scene was. Vi wasn't breaking down, she wasn't locked in a reminder of the abuse she faced and her sister hadn't just ran off to do goodness knows what (in Vi's POV, us as the audience know exactly what she's about to do). They could've even have it fade to black and cut to the next scene tangled in bed doing whatever they would've been doing in the cell, Vi would assumably have had time to calm down, would be having sex in a warm and safe environment, and guess what? The audience would've been even happier.

Sure there would've been criticism, but Vi could literally save a thousand babies and adopt them all and still face hate, because a lot of the hate is being directed to Vi too because of the situation with Jinx. That, again, is a whole other situation.

3. "Dirt Under Your Nails"

Again, for the love of god, there can be so many takeaways from this sentence but do not be surprised that people didn't like it. I didn't, it made me cringe horribly.

And before people throw 'media literacy is dead', this whole post (practically essay), is analysing a piece of media that I love. To be literate, you can draw different interpretations and conclusions and that's exactly what I'm doing. It's like saying literacy is dead if two people were to disagree on what the meaning of Macbeth's quote 'I am in blood' meant.

I digress.

I think the main issue here is the class difference between Vi and Cait. Caitlyn is from the aristocracy, a direct heir to a position of power in Piltover, while Vi is lower class, effected indefinitely by growing up in poverty. Even though she grew up as Vander's kid, they were still 'scraping for scraps'. The wealth margin between the two is almost immeasurable, and with the difference in money comes a difference in experiences, as we - the audiences - know.

It especially comes off wrong considering the class tensions and political themes heavily focussed on within the first season. The conflict between Piltover and Zaun, the abuse of power and exploitation of Zaunites by both topside and the chembarons, the prevalence of police brutality on the streets of the Undercity. Again, Vi is someone who is directly effected by this, while Caitlyn came into this blissfully naïve. She did learn yes, and in s1 she was so determined to help, but when then this progress reverts into her calling zaunites 'animals' and using the grey as a weapon, it again makes Vi's words feel uncomfortable.

Again, I think this was a massive timing issue, I would've love to see Caitlyn succumb fully to a villain arc. It would've been so interesting to delve into.

I think Vi has always had the image of herself that she'll always be viewed as less by Piltover, that she herself views herself as less. She says it herself to Vander in s1 ep2 while they're on the bridge, "I grew up knowing I'm less than them." So when she then says as her final words in the show, "I'm the dirt under your nails" obviously, that's going to come across as tacky.

People are free to think of romantic connotations for this, I won't stop you, but when you think about how the show was so focussed on class tensions, police brutality, oppression and exploitation, it doesn't come off right. Idk, that's what got me so interested with the show in the first place, the way these themes were explored so deeply but subtly in a way that didn't feel forced, so Vi's words really rubbed me the wrong way.

Conclusion

So I hope everyone that read somewhat gets where I'm coming from, this was my attempt to try and explain what I think needed to be, badly. Again, you can like the ship, I'm not saying I don't, but it also needs to be acknowledged that there is so many things that could've been worked on properly, done properly or addressed properly, and ignoring criticism won't help these issues to be fixed in the future.

Feel free to ask any questions and thanks for reading this long ass rant :)

#vi arcane #arcane vi #arcane s2 #arcane netflix #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #this is not anti caitvi #caitvi #I miss s1 caitvi chat ☹️☹️#bring back the scene from s1 ep 8 #where was that caitvi in s2 😔😔#this was so long omfg #if only i was this passionate about my assignments #let alone my epq 💀💀#sixth form is kicking my assss 😝 (send help)

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etherealily · 2 days ago

Text

bets // f.odair

Part 1 : Guilt

Part 2 : Art

[3/3] Long + also overdue.

Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings : Cuss words, SFW but discretion advised, mature themes, hurt/comfort

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Gasp in a tempest.

══════════════════ 🔹🔹🔹🔹═════════════════

There's a sort of domesticity to this that he despises.

Your features essentially flow under his fingers as he traces them, slowly, devotedly. And he doesn't know why.

He's just willed himself to stop in immaculate timing, because a couple of sharp knocks sound on the door.

You hear them, clearly, but you don't bother. He nudges you as gently as possible. "You hear that?"

"My niece and nephew. They know I nap in the afternoons. This is just to let me know they're home.", you inform, basically whine, before your face is in his chest, trying to get away from the fucking light.

He nods. "I gotta tell you something."

"Now?"

"Now."

He watches you groan, one eye closed as you sit up and try to adjust to the light, before you make grabbing hands for your clothes.

Great. Something to make the situation worse. Harsh reminders. So much for the last thing he'd do. But after you'd come from the market, he'd just... it seemed like doing anything else would just be stupid. Who wouldn't kiss you all over?

"Yeah?'

He's frozen. He's dying. He's terrified. He's never seen you mad, but he's sure that when it comes to your family, you'd wage wars.

"I talked to Snow about you."

"What?"

"I talked to him. I, uh, talked to him to get you out of this fake, um... agreement? Situation? I dunno."

You frown, standing up and disappearing into the bathroom to brush your teeth. "Get out of it?"

"Uh, yeah. Y'know. Come up with a breakup story that doesn't put me in a bad light and doesn't get you stone-pelted in the street."

"You want to get out of it?"

Your voice is quiet enough that he knows he's made a mistake, a huge, fucking mistake, and he hadn't even got to the worst part yet, the hey-so-I-used-you-and-now-you're-a-target part.

"You don't?"

"I-", you sigh, and he breaks. Shit. "I- no, yeah, no, I do.", you assure, nodding vehemently.

"If something's changed-" he'd be fucked. If something's changed, then he'd be completely fucked.

"No, I just, y'know, um.", you mumbled, spitting out your toothpaste. "It's like, me just being all... it's, uh, nothing."

"Wait, whoa, whoa, what do you mean?" No, no, no, please God, don't-

"That night was, like, my first time. So i just, uh, y'know? It's stupid, that's not how the world works, I know, it's-"

Jesus fucking Christ.

He'd taken your freedom, your life and your virginity.

"No, it's not stupid, you just- trust me, you don't want me."

"Why, because of what Snow makes you do?", you ask, softly, and he heavily regrets the lies he spewed to Snow about you. 'Didn't care'. Please. All you did was care. You gave way too many shits about him. "You know I care for you either way."

You're being very careful not to use the word 'love', and he respects it. You're hedging your bets and he's been there.

Kinda hates it, though, because if you did use it, then he'd have a clear plan - get you the fuck out of Panem.

"I- Y/N, you're so smart. You're so good.", he whispers, making his way over to your hands and lifting them, kind of like a barrier between you and him for what he's about to say. "You don't deserve me."

"Finnick--"

"Shut up for a second, baby, okay?", he mutters, kissing your palm. "Just listen."

He's not sure if he expected you to argue, but he sure as hell didn't expect you to comply.

The silence and your fucking eyes urge him to start. And he doesn't know where. His mind seems to desperately try to convince him otherwise, to convince him he could run away and build a boat with you somewhere, and you'd be none the wiser.

But he has to say this, because for all the absolutely evil shit he's been doing lately, he has to at least get an iota of redemption.

"I've been lying to you."

The words ring around the room, ricochet back to him and wrap around his neck like a noose. They wrap around your arms like handcuffs.

He's pretty sure he's stopped breathing.

When did he get this way?

When did he lose hope?

══════════════════ 🔹🔹🔹🔹═════════════════

ONE WEEK EARLIER

He didn't think he should start his birthday off with a lie. But sometimes, you don't have an option.

"It's not that I don't love her."

"Then what is it? Let me guess. You told her your whole sob story and she didn't care?"

He kinda wished that was true. "Yes." See? Lie.

"Shame. I really thought she was the one, y'know?", mused Snow, tapping Finnick's nose twice. If he could, he'd bite that fucking finger off.

But this was a political, mind war, not an actual, bloody one. Not yet, anyway.

"Yeah. Me, too."

"I had a whole thing planned. A whole storyline. She'd be the pathetic, yet down-to-earth, homely wife that let you do whatever you wanted around the Capitol because she loves you, and you'd be the hero-husband, who, no matter how many options you try, will always come back to the District 4 Girl. Poetic, right? Either way, you'd win."

Fucking hell. It disgusted him. Absolutely disgusted him. His whole life had been planned out by someone whose life should have ended ages ago.

"That sounds smart."

"I am a marketing genius, Finnick. A genius.", he declared, laughing as he wrapped a ringed hand around his shoulder and yanked him closer. Finnick grimaced and stiffened, and Snow reveled in it.

"It doesn't matter. Do whatever. Kill her, humiliate her, I don't care."

The thing is, Finnick had come to know Snow over the years. He loved brutal killings, only if they were a) fun, and b) profitable. Killing you would be neither, seeing as Finnick was now, in Snow's eyes, done with you.

He prayed that Snow wouldn't call his bluff.

"Well, I'll have to do that anyway."

What?

"Why?" The panic had begun to seep into his tone and Snow could sniff it out plainly. But he didn't care. Not anymore.

"You said you told her your whole sob story."

No, NO! Fuck!

"You realize, I can't let her live. Not after that."

He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. "She won't tell anyone."

"How do you know that? She got her fifteen minutes of fame and now she might want more."

"She's not like that and you know it. Don't... I still do love her, and- and she has a family. Don't kill her." Please.

Snow, infuriatingly, never smirked. His eyes forever reflected contemplation, concern, even care, but never malicious intent. So, when he uttered his next words, his face was rife with softness. "She is beautiful, though."

Finnick immediately assumed the closest position to groveling he could politically get - he stood right in front of Snow, looking up into his eyes with a desperation unmatched.

"No. No. I will work double time. I will do everything the Patrons want, just don't... no, not her."

"I thought you'd like a bit of revenge. So she can witness your sob story firsthand. Though, I might agree with her on the stance that it's a mutually beneficial system."

"Please, President Snow.", he tried again. "Not her."

Snow stroked his hair, softly. "My sweet Finnick. How you've grown. You won when you were a child. But you're a child no longer."

"It's not fair. She doesn't know anything about that life." He's close to crying.

"What? Sex? She's eighteen. She should. And it's not like she's a virgin, huh? Having been with you, you beautiful creature, you."

"She hasn't been with-", he sighed.

"Well then, maybe you should get her used to it."

He'd thought that'd be the last thing he'd ever do.

══════════════════ 🔹🔹🔹🔹═════════════════

PRESENT DAY

It's been an hour since you've spoken to him and he finds himself desperately trying to remember what your voice sounds like. He doesn't want to ask you to say something because he's scared you will.

But he has to. Because you're out of time. Because Snow's coming for you.

He's tilting his head as you sit there, watching the sky through the window.

"I'm extremely sorry."

"You said that already." Your voice. Your voice, your voice, your voice!

"I know, but--"

"Who the FUCK do you think you are?!" Good, the rage would help the adrenaline, because your survival instincts better fucking kick in.

"Please, jus--"

"Who the FUCK do you think you are, deciding that YOUR family was more IMPORTANT than mine?! WHO gave you that right? To drag me into your fucked up life and use me like a fucking commodity?!"

"HEY! I helped you, too, I tried to make up for it!

You scoff, almost laughing. "How? By training Faye badly and not finding her sponsors, basically killing her?! Or by dragging me into your fucked up world of cameras and makeup and President Snow's little reality show?! Or by sleeping with...", your voice trails off.

No. That look on your face. NO.

"No. No, no, Y/N, no--"

"Is that-- Jesus, is that why you slept with me?! You thought you could have leverage? Or you thought you'd be so brilliant that I'd forgive you?!"

"Y/N, no.", he replies, firmly, trying his damndest to be calm, because he knew you were itching for a reaction, something that would result in a way to express your rage. "No, that was real."

You stare back at him, arms crossed, and he repeats. Maybe you didn't hear him? "That was real."

"What, I'm supposed to suddenly believe you now?"

He groans, his hands running across his face. "Please. Please, I tried to get you out of it, I did! But he's... Snow is coming for you, and I've got to get you safe!"

"My family?"

"They have time. He won't touch them until he's sure you're in hiding and he needs to draw you out. That'll be a month, maybe."

"You are the worst human being on this planet, and I hope you know it."

"I do. I do. But--"

"But what? Hm? But you had a 'good reason'? But your family was in danger? I don't care!", you cry out, and he breaks. Like, genuinely. He's not sure he's standing. He feels like a pile of broken glass, and he can't even warn you not to step on him.

"I'm sorry. But you have to get over it quick, because--"

"What?"

Shit.

He stares up at you, in absolute agony. That doesn't bother you too much, though, because the agony wasn't incited by you. It was directed to you. His agony is regret.

"What the hell did you just say to me?"

Your voice is not a whisper, but it is not a yell, either. You want yourself heard, but by only him.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't ask what you feel, I asked what you said."

"Please, don't make me say it again. I take it back."

"What did you just say?"

"I said... no, please, let's just move on from this-"

"Say it again or I'm leaving." That was a lie. Both of you know you're leaving either way.

"Please. Please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I-", he sighs, ready to fall to his knees, but he knows you wouldn't like that, and he doesn't want to guilt you into forgiving him.

You clench your jaw, and he clings onto you, pulling you closer to him as he kisses all over your face. You're about to break and he can see it. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to let it get this far."

"What am I supposed to do now? Hide?"

He tilts his head, nodding. 'I know a place. There's a rock formation, a cave, behind the waterfall. I've been fixing it up since I was sixteen. Y'know, in case I got old and wrinkly and the Capitol was done with me."

He really tries to ignore the hard set of your jaw and the way you snatched your wrist away from his hold as he snuck you out.

Yeah, he knew he fucked up, but for some reason, no matter what worst-case-scenarios you expect, reality is always, always worse.

══════════════════ 🔹🔹🔹🔹═════════════════

ONE WEEK LATER

Your hand clenches on the knife and you start up, before you're met with the sight of Finnick's hands, from behind the sheet of water covering the entrance to the cave. "Hey, hey, it's just me, it's just me."

After your hands stop clenching, it's your jaw's turn. You turn away from him and bury your face back in the pillow, pulling the slightly worn blanket back over you.

"Can you at least talk to me?"

You don't respond. You like Finnick, and you're not sure what words will come out of your mouth if you end up talking to him. Hurtful words, probably. Jesus, you don't even know how to be betrayed properly. You're still worried about hurting him. But then again, no one had exactly touched you the way he had. In more ways than one.

"Please? We have to go over our game plan, anyway."

"My family?"

"Yeah, in a month. You're not high-profile. So he's not too focused on you right now, so your family isn't being targeted. Yet."

"Yet."

He sighs, sinking down next to you, one knee elevated with an elbow on top of it. "Y/N."

"What?"

"You, uh...", he struggles, biting the inside of his cheek. "You are so much better than me in so many ways. You know that. And I know that. And I guess I'm just... I'm sorry, is what I'm trying to say. Sorry about Faye, sorry about the cameras, the makeup, the... the fact that I yelled at you the first night we met, I just... I'm not a good person. I know that."

"Did you reh--"

"Yes, I rehearsed that. The whole way up."

"Is anything in your life real? Or do you try to follow some script in every aspect of it?"

Whoa. He'd hoped you'd see his rehearsals as effort, not fabrication.

"Would it make you feel better if you got to hit me? Or something? Or... or, uh... stabbed me? I mean, y'know that's how Faye--"

Fuck. Fuck him and his stupid mouth that had an affinity towards his own motherfucking foot.

"You think I'm gonna stab you 'cause Faye got stabbed? An eye for an eye? You think I'm you? 'My family's in danger, so I'll put someone else's in danger, too!'"

Ouch.

He's never seen a bear in real life, but he's pretty sure him moving to grasp your hands against his chest so you can't move would be equivalent to poking one. But he does it anyway.

"Listen, you are the first thing I've cared about in a long time--"

"Besides yourself?"

"You think if I cared about myself, I'd be here?! You think if I cared about myself I'd be alive?! No, it's for my fuckin' family, and the next generation of tributes!"

You flinch, but he keeps going, shaking your wrists - and hence, you - as he continues. He's crazy. You could kick him any time, hell, you could even take him up on his offer and stab him, if you wanted to. He's crazy.

"And you... you just... you just got mixed up in it all, and it's fucking your fault that I gave a shit, and your fault that I fell in love with you, and it's your--" Okay, fuck. He's not as good as you at the hedging bets thing.

He can't really tell what the look on your face is, because he's too busy trying to look everywhere but.

The silence screams at both of you over and over until he paid attention to it.

"I can't handle you hating me."

It's said quietly, like an afterthought, like a gasp in a tempest. You wouldn't probably hear him if it wasn't for the fact that you were in an echoey goddamn cave.

"Tell me you don't hate me. Doesn't have to be true. I'm good at living in make-believe. Half the time, I'm on a tropical island, eating fresh fruit or sm'n."

He's rambling. He knows that. He's also acutely aware of your eyes. You're hesitant, and you're stalling. Or maybe his rambling is his form of stalling. What if you tell him the truth? Or worse, what if you actually lie, like he asked you to? Would that mean you cared enough, or didn't care at all? Fuck!

"I don't hate you, Finnick."

He'd have assumed you'd lied to get him to shut his trap, but the use of his name stupidly sprinkles hope into him. That sounded sincere.

"Really?"

"I'm just disappointed."

Oof.

"I figured after everything you told me, you'd value honesty and kindness above all else. If even you don't, then what do I expect from... well, anyone? Who do I trust?"

"No one. Seriously, don't trust anyone. Not completely, at least. And not anyone who's not me."

"Right, 'cause you're the pinnacle of trustworthiness."

"I could've just let Snow get you, you know? I could've just let it happen, because honest to god, Y/N, that was my plan! I was just about ready to abandon ship and then this stupid fucking- god! I started caring, like a fucking loser."

"That's the problem! I'd have understood if you left me in the dark, but what pisses me off is you gave enough shits to actually tell me, so why did you even...?"

He doesn't like this whole conversation. Feels like a figment of his imagination. Because, for one, you're making really good points, and he's at a loss, and that's never happened before because he's Finnick motherfucking Odair and people usually gush over him before they yell at him.

He lets go of your wrists, his hand immediately moving to your hair. His forehead presses against yours - this is the first time he's touched you in a week. "I don't need you to love me. You don't have to love me. You don't have to like me. You barely have to tolerate me. But you need to be serious when you tell me you don't hate me."

"I don't hate you!"

"Promise?" He's so pathetic, he's about to off himself.

You nod, and he kisses you. It seems like it's a script, to him, an actual script, not like bullshit they tell him to do at the Capitol, but this time, you respond in kind (why, he'll never know. Maybe you just needed a win.) , and suddenly you're co-author.

"I lied, y'know?"

"I know."

"No, not the big lie, I mean, I lied about not needing you to lov--'

"I know."

You're still hedging your bets.

And honestly? With the fact that you're kissing him while hiding in a cave from a psychopath president because he was too much of a pussy to stab him in the heart himself?

He gets it.

You know. That's until two days later when he can't find you anywhere. Not a lot of places to look in a tiny cave. So what the fuck? Where the fuck were you?

And then, his head tilts. There's a fucking white rose on your pillow.

Okay, maybe stabbing that psychotic motherfucker in the heart was long overdue.

He takes his camera. And then a gun he nicked from a Peacekeeper. What? He's hedging his bets.

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alittlegiraffe · 14 hours ago

Text

Title: Lost Time

You didn’t mean to forget.

It was just that life had been moving at a relentless pace—school drop-offs, doctor’s appointments, laundry piles that never seemed to shrink, and the constant whirlwind of raising kids. By the time you had a moment to sit down and breathe, the day was already slipping away, and there was always something else to do.

And then, the realization hit you like a gut punch.

You were supposed to be on a plane.

Your stomach dropped as you stared at the time on your phone. Your flight to LA had taken off an hour ago. The trip to visit Marshall for the weekend—just the two of you—was something you had both been looking forward to for weeks. It was rare, getting time alone together, and now you had completely missed it.

Your hands shook as you picked up your phone, heart pounding as you scrolled to his name and hit call. It rang twice before he picked up.

“Hey, baby.” His voice was warm, but you could hear the exhaustion behind it. “You landed okay?”

You swallowed hard, pressing your fingers against your forehead. “Marshall…”

Something in your tone must have told him everything he needed to know, because there was a pause.

“…What happened?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I—I forgot,” you admitted, voice thick with guilt. “I missed my flight.”

Another silence stretched between you. The disappointment was palpable, even through the phone.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, and it made your stomach twist even more.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “I don’t even have a good excuse. I just—everything’s been so crazy with the kids and running around, and I lost track of time. I didn’t even realize until just now.”

Marshall let out a slow exhale, and you could picture him rubbing his hand down his face the way he always did when he was frustrated but trying to keep his cool. “Damn, baby,” he finally said, voice softer now. “I was looking forward to seeing you.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “I know, I was too.”

You could hear the hurt in his voice, and it broke you. Marshall never asked for much—he understood how busy life got, how much the kids needed you, but this was supposed to be your time. And now you had let him down.

There was a long pause before he spoke again. “You could try and get another flight tomorrow,” he suggested, but you already knew it wasn’t that simple.

“Marshall… I don’t think I can. The kids—”

“I know,” he cut in, but there was no anger in his tone, just understanding. And maybe that made it even worse.

You closed your eyes, willing the lump in your throat to disappear. “I feel awful.”

“I know you do,” he said, quieter this time. “But I get it, babe. You got a million things on your plate.”

You wiped at your face, hating that you were tearing up. “I just—I don’t want you to think I don’t care. Or that I don’t want to be there.”

“Never,” he said immediately, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice. “You do everything for us, for the kids. I know you love me. I know you wanted to come.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I really did.”

Marshall was quiet for a beat. Then, he sighed. “I miss you, though.”

The admission made your chest ache. “I miss you too,” you whispered.

There was another pause, then his voice turned a little softer, a little playful. “You know what this means, right?”

“What?”

“You owe me.”

Despite the guilt still hanging over you, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Oh, do I?”

“Hell yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Big time. I want a whole weekend when I get back. No interruptions, no running around—just me and you.”

You exhaled, already nodding. “Deal.”

“Good.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sitting in the quiet together. Even from miles away, he still had a way of making you feel grounded.

“I’ll call you later?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Get some rest, baby. You work too damn hard.”

You smiled, even if he couldn’t see it. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

As the call ended, you sat there for a moment, still kicking yourself for forgetting. But if there was one thing you knew about Marshall, it was that he’d always understand. And you’d make it up to him—one way or another.

---

The guilt still sat heavy in your chest, even after Marshall reassured you he understood. Missing your flight wasn’t just about forgetting a plan—it was about forgetting him, even if just for a moment. And you never wanted him to feel like an afterthought.

So, you were going to fix it.

The kids were finally asleep, the house was quiet, and after staring at your phone for a few minutes, you decided you weren’t just going to wait until he got back. You could still make the weekend about him.

You called him.

It rang twice before he picked up, his voice groggy. “Babe?”

“Hey,” you whispered, biting your lip. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” he exhaled, and you could hear him shifting. “I was just laying here. What’s up?”

You hesitated for half a second before deciding to just go for it. “I wanted to make it up to you.”

Marshall chuckled, low and rough. “Oh yeah? How you gonna do that from a thousand miles away?”

You grinned, settling back against your pillows. “I have a few ideas.”

Silence. Then—“Shit.” His voice was lower now, already catching on. “You tryna kill me, woman?”

“Maybe,” you teased, running your fingers lightly over your bare skin. “You said I owe you. Figured I should start paying up.”

Marshall groaned, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine. “You got my full attention, baby.”

~~~

The next morning, you woke up to a text from him.

Marshall: Damn. Now I really can’t wait to get home.

You smirked, typing back.

You: Told you I’d make it up to you.

A second later, another text popped up.

Marshall: Oh, you’re not off the hook yet. I’m making you pay up in person.

You bit your lip, already feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

You: I’m counting on it.

---

The second you saw the flight tracker update, confirming Marshall was on his way home, you sprang into action.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love having the kids around—you did. But after missing your weekend together, you owed him something uninterrupted. No little voices calling for you, no last-minute homework emergencies, no laundry, no distractions. Just you and him.

So, you started making arrangements.

By early Friday evening, the house was quiet. Your daughters were off at their friends’ houses, giggling about sleepovers and promising to text if they needed anything. You stood at the door after drop-offs, staring into the empty house, nerves buzzing in anticipation.

This was actually happening.

It had been so long since you and Marshall had a weekend to yourselves. Between parenting, his career, and the never-ending responsibilities of life, time together had been sacrificed more than either of you liked. But now, for the next two days, he was yours.

And you were not going to waste it.

You sent him a text as you walked through the quiet house, already thinking about what to wear, what to do, how to make this weekend one he wouldn’t forget.

You: House is empty. Just me waiting on you.

A moment later, your phone buzzed.

Marshall: That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Plane just landed. Be home soon.

You smiled, your heart hammering in your chest.

Time to welcome him home properly.

~~~

You were practically pacing by the time you heard the front door open.

Marshall barely had a second to step inside before you were on him, arms wrapping around his neck, pressing yourself against him. His duffel bag hit the floor with a thud as his arms instantly circled your waist, holding you close.

“Damn,” he murmured, burying his face against your neck. “Missed you too, huh?”

You laughed softly, tilting your head so he could press his lips against your skin. “So much.”

His hands tightened around you, like he didn’t want to let go. “Thought about you all weekend,” he admitted. “Then you go and tell me the house is empty? You tryna kill me, baby?”

You smirked, pulling back just enough to look at him. “You said I owe you, right?”

His blue eyes darkened, hands sliding lower on your waist. “Damn right you do.”

You bit your lip, grabbing his hoodie and tugging him toward the bedroom.

“Then let me start paying up.”

---

The second the bedroom door shut, Marshall wasted no time. His hands were on you before you could even take another step, pulling you flush against him, his body heat searing through his hoodie and jeans.

“You really sent the kids away for the whole weekend?” he murmured, his breath warm against your jaw as he pressed lazy kisses along your skin.

You hummed, sliding your hands under his hoodie, fingertips tracing over his stomach. “Mmhmm. No distractions. No interruptions. Just you and me.”

Marshall let out a low groan, gripping your hips. “You tryna make me fall even more in love with you or what?”

You grinned, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “Maybe.”

He exhaled sharply, then suddenly, his hands were on your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, dropping you down onto the mattress before climbing over you, caging you in.

“You don’t know how bad I needed this,” he admitted, his voice rough, his eyes locked on yours. “Needed you.”

Your fingers tangled in the front of his hoodie, pulling him down until your lips brushed against his. “Then take what you need.”

And he did.

~~~

Hours later, you lay tangled together in the sheets, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers traced lazy circles along your back, his touch light, comforting.

“I should’ve just flown home early,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “Screw LA. This is where I wanna be.”

You smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss against his skin. “Well, you’re here now.”

He sighed, squeezing you closer. “Yeah, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You shifted, propping yourself up on one elbow so you could look at him. “Promise?”

He cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing over your skin as his eyes softened. “Swear on everything.”

Your heart swelled, and you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a slow, lingering kiss.

For the first time in weeks, there were no schedules to keep, no places to be. Just you and him, making up for lost time.

---

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred slightly, shifting against the warmth wrapped around you, only to feel Marshall tighten his grip. His arms were locked around your waist, his face buried in your hair, his breaths slow and steady against your skin.

"Mm-mm," he murmured, voice thick with sleep. "Not movin' yet."

You smiled, stretching slightly before settling back against him. "Not even to eat?"

Marshall let out a groggy sigh, but instead of answering, he kissed the top of your shoulder, his lips lazy and warm. "M’too comfortable," he admitted. "Stay a little longer."

You turned in his arms, brushing his messy hair back from his face. He looked softer like this—sleepy, relaxed, the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

"You wanna take a bath?" you offered, running your fingers lightly over his jaw. "Then I’ll let you go back to being a human blanket."

His eyes cracked open just enough to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, alright," he muttered. "Long as I don’t gotta do any work."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Just sit there and be pretty, babe."

He chuckled, stretching before finally releasing you from his grip, letting you drag him out of bed.

~~~

The hot water soothed your sore muscles, but the real comfort was the way Marshall held you. He sat behind you in the oversized tub, his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder. His fingers traced light patterns along your stomach as the steam curled around both of you.

"Could stay like this forever," he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to the side of your neck.

You smiled, tilting your head back slightly against his chest. "We kinda have to eat at some point."

Marshall huffed, but reached for his phone resting on the edge of the tub. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Surprise me."

"You say that now, but if I order somethin’ weird, you’re gonna give me that look," he teased.

You turned your head to glance at him. "What look?"

"The ‘Marshall, what the hell is this?’ look," he mimicked in a higher-pitched voice, making you laugh.

"Just order, dork," you said, nudging him.

He smirked, placing the order before setting his phone aside. "Done. Now stop distracting me, I’m tryna relax."

You rolled your eyes, but secretly, you loved how soft he was being. He wasn’t always like this—he had his tough exterior, his walls, the weight of his career always hanging over him. But with you, in moments like this, he let himself just be.

And you cherished every second of it.

~~~

By lunchtime, the food had long since been eaten, and you were curled up together in bed, mindlessly watching something on TV. But as you looked over at Marshall, you could tell his mind was elsewhere. His brows were drawn slightly, his jaw tense, fingers absently tapping against his stomach.

You reached over, running your hand along his arm. "What’s on your mind?"

He exhaled sharply, his fingers stilling. "I dunno," he muttered. "Just… been thinkin’."

"About what?"

His eyes flickered toward you before he sighed. "Does it make me a bad dad that I needed this? Like, two weeks away from the kids, and instead of gettin’ home and spendin’ time with them right away, I just—" He gestured vaguely between you two. "I just wanted this. You."

You frowned, sitting up slightly. "Marshall—"

"Nah, I mean, I love them more than anything, you know that," he said quickly. "Just… what kinda dad dips out for two weeks, then sends them away for the weekend soon as he gets back?"

You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "The kind of dad who also needs to take care of his relationship," you said softly. "The kind of dad who gives everything to his kids, but also deserves time for himself. And with me."

Marshall exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "I just don’t ever want them to feel like I’m not there enough."

"You are there," you assured him. "And they adore you. But you can’t pour from an empty cup, babe. We needed this time, too. You needed it."

He let out a slow breath, nodding slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, you’re right."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. "You’re an amazing dad, Marshall. The girls know it, I know it. And this weekend doesn’t change that."

He gave a small, grateful smile, tugging you closer. "Love you," he murmured against your hair.

"Love you too," you whispered.

And as he held you tighter, you could feel the tension finally start to melt away.

---

The weekend had been everything you and Marshall needed—slow, intimate, and uninterrupted. But as Sunday afternoon rolled around, reality crept back in.

You were curled up on the couch together, your head resting on his chest while he mindlessly ran his fingers through your hair. The TV was on, but neither of you were really paying attention.

Marshall sighed, his grip tightening around you. “Guess we should probably get the kids soon, huh?”

You hummed, tracing light circles on his stomach. “Probably.”

Neither of you moved.

Marshall let out a low chuckle. “We’re terrible.”

You grinned, tilting your head up to look at him. “Or maybe we just really needed this.”

His blue eyes softened as he brushed a thumb over your cheek. “Yeah… we did.”

You leaned into his touch, savoring the last few moments of quiet before everything picked up again. “But we should go before they start thinking we abandoned them.”

Marshall sighed dramatically, shifting under you. “Fine. But only ‘cause I don’t want them tellin’ their friends their dad ditched ‘em for their mom.”

You laughed, pushing yourself up. “C’mon, let’s go get our babies.”

~~~

The drive was filled with comfortable conversation, Marshall tapping along to the beat of a song playing low on the radio.

“You think they missed us?” he asked as he pulled into the driveway of your oldest’s friend’s house.

You smirked. “I think they missed you more. You’re the fun parent.”

He scoffed, throwing the car in park. “Nah, they just like me ‘cause I let ‘em stay up too late.”

You laughed, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Exactly.”

The front door swung open before either of you could get out, and your daughter came sprinting toward the car.

“DADDY!”

Marshall barely had time to react before she jumped into his arms, wrapping herself around him.

“Damn, girl,” he grunted, catching her with ease. “You act like I was gone for a year.”

She giggled, squeezing his neck. “Two weeks is a long time!”

You watched as his entire face softened, his arms holding her tight against him. That doubt he had earlier about needing time with you? Gone. Because no matter what, your girls knew he loved them.

And as your other daughter came running from the house, yelling “Daddy!” just as loud, you knew there was no place he’d rather be.

---

The house was filled with warmth, laughter, and the soft hum of a movie playing in the background. The four of you were curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets, limbs tangled together as you soaked in the simple joy of being close.

Marshall sat in the middle, your youngest daughter curled up against his chest, her tiny fingers clutching onto his hoodie like she was afraid he might disappear again. Your oldest was tucked under his other arm, her head resting against his side. And you? You were right next to him, your legs draped over his as he absentmindedly traced circles on your thigh with his fingertips.

“This is the best night ever,” your youngest mumbled sleepily, nuzzling further into her dad’s chest.

Marshall smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah, baby?”

She nodded against him. “Mhm. I like when we’re all together like this.”

You glanced at him, and the way his eyes softened made your heart clench. He had spent so much time worrying about being away, about taking time for himself and for you. But right now, in this moment, it was obvious—he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Me too, baby,” he murmured, holding her a little closer.

Your oldest yawned, shifting to get more comfortable against him. “Can we do this every night?”

Marshall let out a soft chuckle. “If it means I get to cuddle with my girls? Hell yeah.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Guess that means we’re never leaving this couch.”

He turned his head to press a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a beat longer than necessary. “Sounds perfect to me.”

The movie played on, but none of you were really watching anymore. The girls slowly started drifting off, their soft breaths mixing with the low hum of the TV.

Marshall exhaled, his arm tightening around you. “This,” he murmured, voice low, like he didn’t want to wake them. “This is all I ever need.”

You looked up at him, your heart full. “Me too.”

And as you sat there, wrapped in the warmth of your little family, you knew—there was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

#eminem #marshall mathers #eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader

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vampiricstoryteller · 2 days ago

Text

Safety Net

Im back yall, here’s a new Richette smut I’ve been working on. It took me a little bit to find a groove with this but I do like how it’s turned out. This a modern AU one. I love modern Annette and Richter. I hope yall enjoy! Thank you for reading!

Summary: Annette takes care of Richter after a grueling month of working with Juste

Read on A03 here

All mistakes are my own

Warnings: Explicit smut, AU, Modern AU, cursing, Juste is super OC but it’s for the greater plot

If there was one thing Richter hated, more than anything, it was the month long business trip his grandfather, Juste Belmont, went on every other year. Nothing came remotely close to being as awful as the time he had to spend with his mothers father. Not that time he broke his leg when he was eight and had to stay in bed for weeks. Not when, at fifteen, he’d had that severe allergic reaction to kiwis and ended up in the ER. And not at twenty two when his father died and he’d been handed the keys to a multi-million dollar company. None of those even held a candle to the dread that locked into his chest when he would get the notification on his phone from the European side of the business.

Because it meant that Juste came to the states to check in on business “across the pond”, he came to stay with Richter’s mum; make snarky comments about the food she cooked and use up all the laundry detergent while never replacing it. He came to terrorized the employees that idolized him and unfairly challenge the ones that didn’t. He came to make Richter’s life hell, especially during the work week where he would follow Richter around and question every decision the youngest Belmont made.

Didn’t matter what it was, when Richter made a decision his grandfather had comments about it. If Richter picked sushi for lunch, Juste questioned why not something a little less raw. If Richter chose paint color number 4834, Juste needed to know why he hadn’t gone with 4835 instead. When they sat down to discuss models designs and reference points that should be paid attention to, his grandfather could and usually would rebuke them all.

Every. Single. One.

It was fucking infuriating.

Richter’s been in charge of the company for three years now. Their stock has risen, they’re on track to have the highest grossing year ever in their history and he’s already been honored by the national board. He’s the youngest CEO in the entire Belmont line, and his grandfather couldn’t give two shits about any of it.

He just wants to give Richter migraines for an entire month.

If he could get away with it, Richter would strangle him. But his mother would never forgive him and jail would completely ruin the fashion sense he’s been so meticulously building. Not to mention, if he ends up in jail his girlfriend will break up with him. And there’s nothing in the world Richter fears more than losing her.

He’d been dating Annette for just over a year. Fourteen months to be exact. And they’d been some of the happiest months of Richter’s life.

Annette meant everything to him.

She cared about Richter on a level so deep that he often felt like he was having the perfect fever dream. Annette believed in him, she encouraged him to be different than the men who came before him, she challenged his inner integrity and she kissed him like there had never been any other man on her mind ever. He’s certainly not thought about any other woman since the day they met, she clears them all by a mile at least.

Richter loved Annette, she was it for him. He already knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Which is why two weeks before his grandfather is set to arrive, he sits Annette down and tries to explain that his grandfather is the destroyer of joy and if he sees that Richter is happy he will try to ruin it.

She’d laughed, hugging him comfortingly and said. “It’s only a month, Richter. We’ll make it through it.”

Then she crawled into his lap, kissing him as she promised even further, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Richter knows that.

And he knew she was right, they would make it through the month long visit from Juste; but would his sanity be the same when the old man finally boarded that 7pm flight six weeks from now?

He wasn’t so sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once his grandfathers plane lands, the days immediately begin blending together. There is nothing that the old man won’t complain about. This time he even has one locked and loaded when he greets Richter at the car pick up line.

“You couldn’t have had one of those golf carts waiting to bring to you?” Juste grumbles, his long hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“The walk is good for you after sitting on a plane for so long.” Richter replies evenly, picking up the older man’s suitcases and loading them into the trunk.

“Suddenly care about my health do you?” Juste asks, looking him over a few times as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

“No but mum does and me picking you up was her idea so,” Richter shrugs, closing the trunk and walking around to the driver side. “Come on, I’m trying to beat traffic.”

His grandfather doesn’t reply but he does get into the car, even going as far as rolling down the window.

“There’s something different about you, this time Richter.” The older man comments as the car pulls away from the curb. “You’ve got a pep in your step.”

He grunts in reply, refusing to give his grandfather any kind of information to take and run with. As they merge into traffic, Richter sends up a slightly prayer to the spirit world for his ancestors to give him strength to deal with their own bloodline.

By the second week of his grandfather’s visit, their conversation that morning he arrived seems like it happened years ago. To think that it’s only been fourteen days since then makes Richter want to vomit. There’s been a never ending stream of steady stress since the old man lit that cigarette and told Richter that he seemed different.

Juste had been relentless in his pursuit of what exactly had changed Richter since last they saw each other. He keeps Richter at the office longer and longer every day, wanting to go over things six or seven times even though they come out perfect the first three. He demands Richter meet him earlier and earlier, calling him until he answers and drags himself out of bed; away from Annette. Which was crushing Richter’s soul little bit by little bit each time.

It eventually gets to the point where Richter isn’t even sure what day it is anymore. He remembers sometimes when people greet him in the mornings, but the more time he spends with Juste the more people around them avoid them. Even in the building cafeteria, if Richter and Juste enter it, by the time they’ve gotten their plates, everyone else is gone.

Isolation is one Juste’s favorite ways to pick people apart, Richter’s known this since he was a child but this time around; the loneliness eats away at his heart. Being away from Annette for days at a time and then only seeing her when she’s curled around his pillow asleep makes Richter feel invisible.

They text, which isnt the same but it’s something and Richter desperately clings to any kind of normalcy he can find. Annette constantly sends little “I love you, be strong” messages throughout the day and each one wraps around Richter’s heart in a short of protective shield. She sends lunch to his office almost daily, orders his favorite snacks and tucks them into his suit jacket pockets days in advance so they can be a tiny surprise to brighten his day; and often leaves dinner waiting for him in a microwaveable container for when he gets home at those god awful times past midnight. He would be lost without her and Richter has never been more aware of it than he is now. She is a saint, she is heaven sent and when Richter can have a thought that doesn’t trace back to his damn grandfather again, he is going to dedicate a lot of his time to giving her the world.

Annette’s genuine love and care for him is the only thing keeping Richter from jumping off the roof and flipping Juste the bird on the way down. He cares too much about her to leave her, especially not when she’s sticking by him through his.

Richter just has to grit his teeth and bare it, for two more weeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the day finally— finally —comes, it starts raining in the morning and doesn’t stop. Effectively delaying Juste’s flight hours into the night. What originally was a 3pm flight shifts to a 6pm one, then 8pm, and finally 10pm. They’ve just finished eating a late dinner when Juste’s phone gets another notification and Richter fears he’s going rip his own hair out from frustration based insanity if his grandfather tells him the flights been canceled.

But thankfully Juste looks up and instead tells him his flight will be boarding soon so it’s time to leave. Richter throws away his half eaten burger that he hadn’t really wanted anyway and tries to stay level with the speed limit as he all but races towards the airport.

His chest is tight the entire way, the uncomfortable prickle of tears in the back of his throat makes Richter want to scream. Even as an adult, running a million dollar company, he still crumbled under the pressure of his family name. Logically, he knows the expectations are bullshit and that if he would ignore them the way his mother and Tera managed to so eloquently do he would be much happier. But his mother and Tera had to go all the way across the ocean to “ignore” the expectations that Juste and his father before him rained down on them. Richter would be damned to hell before he let an old man chase him away from the life he had here in the name of “tough love”. He wouldn’t allow it.

As he turns into the drop off land of the airport and shuffles into the long car line, Richter bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds to stop the tears. He won’t give Juste the satisfaction. He refuses.

“You do good work here, Richter.”

His grandfather’s words bring all ten thousand of his thoughts to a screeching halt and Richter nearly slams on the breaks.

“What?” He snaps his gaze over to the man in his passenger seat.

“Your building runs like a well oiled machine, much better than two years ago when I was here.” Juste says casually. “This girl you’re hiding from me—.”

“I’m protecting my—.”

“This girl you’re hiding from me is very good for you, I hope she’s here to stay.” Juste says firmly.

When the next spot opens, Richter pulls in and throws on the hazard lights, unbuckling his seat belt.

“You don’t need to meet her.” He states trying to keep the threat out of his tone.

Juste chuckles, taking his time to gather his carryon, phone and wrapped lunch Richter’s mother made him. “You’re right. I don’t. Keep up the good work Richter, see you in two years.”

His grandfather is out of his truck and around at the trunk to get his suitcases before Richter can think of anything to say. The migraine behind his eyes is almost unbearable now and he can’t even begin to try to have coherent thoughts beyond getting home. Once his grandfather disappears inside the busy airport, Richter pulls away from the curb and doesn’t look back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He unlocks the apartment door with a shaky hand at 2:27am. He’d nearly fallen over in the elevator and he was pretty sure the next time he could think he would embarrassed by how badly he parked his truck down in the building garage. But that was a problem for later, Richter didn’t give one flying shit about anything other than taking off his clothes and crawling into bed with—

He pushes open the door expecting to be greeted by darkness. Instead, the soft hum of the tv and the gentle glow of the color background lights are waiting him. Annette is sitting on the couch, in a pair of blue panties and a black tank top with her legs crossed and her Switch in her lap. The soft hyper sounds of Mario Kart jingle in Richter’s inner ear but his brain can’t make heads or tails of the sight before him. Annette is awake, for the first time in a month Richter is finally able to bring himself back to her. He has made it out of the iron claw grip labeled family, he can breathe again and just be with her.

She looks up, her beautiful brown doe eyes lighting up the second she sees him.

“Richter!”

She unfolds her legs, placing her game on the couch and practically leaps towards him. He catches her, he always will no matter how tired or mentally exhausted he is; and the warmth of Annette’s body against him sends shocking waves of emotion through his entire being.

Richter folds around her, wrapping his arms tightly around her frame and holding her to him; his face seeking out her neck. She hugs him back, just as tightly and just as fiercely, her small finger tips gripping his shoulder blades. He squeezes his eyes shut, breath shuddering a bit when tears wet his eyelashes.

“Oh Richter.” Annette soothes softly. “It’s okay, it’s over.”

Richter nods, he kisses her neck before pulling back slightly. “I just didn’t expect you to be waiting up.” He says trying to smile. “I missed you.”

She smiles, reaching up and smoothing her thumbs over his eyebrows; pressing away the frown he didn’t know was there.

“I missed you too.”

They pull apart, only so she can close the door and Richter can shed his jacket and shoes.

“Are you hungry?” Annette asks.

“No, later. I just want out of these clothes, maybe a shower and sleep.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, pulling his eyebrows back down into the frown she just tried to rid him of.

“Come on then, plan A it is.” Annette says gently. She turns the tv off before taking his hand and leading towards the bathroom.

Upon entering, Richter blinks twice and looks around in surprise. Annette’s lit several candles, strategically placing them around the large bath tub he’d specifically had installed at her request five months ago. It was deep enough that they could comfortably sit and bathe together without feeling cramped. Richter had been skeptical at first but baths with Annette were soon high on his list of favorite things to do with her.

It was exactly what he needed right now and warmth spreads through his entire body when she turns on the hot water, plugs the tug and starts to add a combination of their favorite oils. She smiles prettily at him when he doesn’t immediately begin moving, his brain still sluggish despite the tiny flames of energy he felt finally being around her again.

“Take some ibuprofen. Brush your teeth. Take off the rest of your clothes. I’ll keep an eye on the water.” She says, already seated on the lip of tub.

Richter salutes her lazily, happy to hear her chuckle in amusement at him. It feels like it’s been years since he’s heard her laugh. He does as she requested of him, taking the pain pills, brushing his teeth, sneaking in a quick piss then taking off all of his clothes and stuffing them into the bathroom hamper.

When he returns to the side of the tub, Annette has turned off the water and slid down into the tub at the end where the curve of the bottom doubles as a seat.

“Come on.” She grins up at him.

Richter raises an eyebrow. Normally, he would be the one sitting there and Annette would sit either on his lap or between his legs if he was helping her wash her hair. He wasn’t sure they’d ever traded places in this way before.

“I might crush you.” He says rather lamely but Annette only rolls her eyes.

“I’m not a doll, Richter, you of all people should know that.” She smirks then splashes the water a bit. “Come on, don’t waste all this heat.”

Richter chuckles and climbs into the tub slowly, so not to slosh the water over the sides. He settles between her dark, pretty legs; leaning back against her chest her while her slim hand reaches around and presses on his sternum.

“Just relax Richter, it’s been a long month for you.” She says, kissing the shell of his ear and making him groan.

The water smells like honeysuckle, lavender and just the barest hints of cucumbers, the heat of it already turning his pale skin red as steam rises in slow waves all around them.

“Thank you,” Richter says, feeling his body sinking into the water. “For your patience and the lunches and the notes and the texts, all of it.”

Annette wraps her arms around his neck, her nose pressed into his hair behind his ear and she grins when he shivers.

“I love you Richter, I knew we’d make it through this. We just had to be patient, the time was going to pass no matter what. What would I have gained by making it difficult?”

He chuckles, gently grabbing her hands and bringing them to his lips so he can kiss the soft skin.

“I love you too Annette, I’m so glad that you let me.” He murmurs against her fingers.

They sit together for several long minutes, soaking in the heat and basking in each other’s presence. She washes his hair, fingers massaging his scalp and his temples. Her fingers are like magic, finding just the right pressure points to alleviate the throb in his head every so slightly. He’s pretty sure he lets out a pathetic moan or two that he’s grateful Annette’s nice enough to ignore.

Her fingers work their way from his scalp to the back of his neck, over his shoulders and biceps then back round to his chest. Richter watched her small hand, fingers spread wide across the broad plains of his pecs and he bites his bottom lip when she starts to slowly massage her way down.

“Annette.” He murmurs, eyes fluttering when her fingers dances along the lines of his stomach. She traces out his abs, teasing him as she playfully dips lower only to drag her fingers back up.

She giggles when his hips rock up a few times to try and bump her fingers against his half hard cock.

“Be patient Richter.” She whispers kissing his ear. “Relax and enjoy it.”

He closes his eyes, soft colors dancing behind the lids in the same patterns that Annette’s fingers are drawing on his skin. Breathing deep through his nose, Richter lets the last of his muscles relax completely. Annette seems ready for it, she never falters in her ministrations; instead she finally dips her right hand completely down and wraps her fingers around him.

The whimper that escapes Richter is pathetic. He knows it. But he doesn’t care. He’s had no time to himself for a month, he’s had this migraine for a month, his brain has been running twenty four hours a day for the last month. He’s allowed to be pathetic right now.

And it’s not like Annette would ever judge him for the sounds she’s able to pull out of him. She lives for them, and Richter lives for the things she’s willing to do to hear them. It’s a win win situation for both of them.

She licks the shell of his ear, twists her hand around his cock twice and Richter’s mind goes blissfully blank. His breath hitches, hands fisting and his teeth dig into his bottom lip.

“A-Annette…”

“Does that feel good, Richter?” She asks softly, her breath tickling his ear in a way that makes his spine tingle. She swipes her thumb over the tip, smearing the precum around the plump head.

“Fucking yes —Annette.”

She digs the nails of her hand still on his chest into his skin, making him hiss through his clenched jaw. His hips start meeting her hand with every stroke, fucking up into her tiny fist with thinly veiled desperation.

“Richter.” Annette sighs softly,

His forces his eyes open, looking down at her pretty dark hand squeezing and jerking his weeping, hard cock. The contrast between them starts to curl Richter’s toes and his back arches when Annette opens her hand leaving just her thumb and index finger nestled under the pink engorged head, twists her hand again and Richter sees stars.

He shouts, he know he does and one of his hands grips her calf hard enough to leave deep bruises but Annette continues to stroke him as a thick stream of cum bursts from him. She kisses at his ear, biting at the shell and pinching the lobe between her teeth.

Richter thinks for a moment that he’s going to pass out and drag them both under the water.

The feeling passes, only because Annette is there to help him come down slowly. She massages his hips, gently pinches at his sides and whispers playfully in his ear until he’s able to open his eyes again.

“I…I love you—so much, Annette.” He mumbles.

“Good,” she says kissing his cheek. “Cause I feel the same way about you.”

He chuckles tiredly, a yawn sneaking out of his mouth. Annette pats his stomach,

“Come on; let’s get you into bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They end up cuddled together under the sheets. Richter tucking Annette close to him, his arms holding her tight like she’s his lifeline. And at this point he’s pretty sure she’s is.

“I want to go on vacation.” He mumbles, his face buried in neck. “Like, tomorrow.”

Annette laughs softly, her fingers intertwining with his that are spread across her stomach.

“Sleep first,” she all but demands. “Then we can talk, over breakfast.”

Richter smiles against her skin, she had know idea how excited he was to be back able to make promises of conversation and meals together.

He would never let himself be to too tied up to do so regularly again.

The End…

Thanks so much for reading y’all! I hope you liked it!

Evie 🤟🏾

#Safety Net #richette #Richter x Annette #richette smut #richette fanfic #smut #alternate universe fic #alternate universe #modern fic #evie’s stories #my writing #netflix castlevania #castlevania fanfiction #castlevania nocturne #richter belmont #annette #annette castlevania #castlevania

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mrsfrecklesmarauders · 2 days ago

Text

"The sky is beautiful from my side" Lily said with a sigh "Full of stars... How is yours?"

James looked up and smiled. He would call it destiny that the sky was clear. There were few stars visible and the moon was big and shiny.

"Nice view tonight" he said to the phone.

"Yes, it's beautiful!" Lily exclaimed.

"Not as beautiful as you"

The silence Lily gave him after that made James feel like an idiot. Fuck fuck fuck! That was not what a friend was supposed to say, was it? James had promised Lily and himself he was going to respect the friendship thing. And it had been fine. It had been amazing, actually.

James had been used to having Lily hating his guts and insulting him. Being Lily's friend was new but wonderful. It was an honor to get to know her. To make her laugh. To hear about her day and her secrets.

Since summer started, they had been talking on the phone two times a week. And oh God! James was thrilled and he didn't want to jinx it. It was a dream come true.

Pining over Lily as her good pal was ten times better than fucking it up and making her angry again.

James wanted to do things right this time.

But sometimes he didn't have a filter and he said stupid things he felt because they were bloody strong.

Luckily this time, Lily giggled on the other side of the phone. James smiled in relief. He appreciated how sweet her laughter sounded.

"You know how to use your words, eh Potter?"

"Just telling the truth"

"You are just testing if you can flirt with me"

Yes! A million times yes!

"Is it working?"

James's heart suddenly ran fast expecting her answer. He still had hope that one day she would feel the same as him.

Because James felt like he loved her.

Before Lily could answer, they were both interrupted by Marlene's voice in the background.

"Bloody hell, Lily! Quit flirting with Potter and let us sleep!"

James felt dumb to blush but the best part was that he knew Lily was blushing as well. He knew her well by now.

"Marlene!" Lily protested "I'm not flirting..."

"Maybe you can have your sex calls outside the room" James heard Mary's voice.

His cheeks went on fire with the mere thought of hearing Lily whispering sexy things to him.

"Mary!" Lily whined. "Sorry Potter," she added to the phone "just ignore them"

James laughed nervously. He heard Lily moving and closing the door behind her.

"We just had a volleyball tournament today" Lily explained, lowering her voice "The McKinnons got competitive. We are knackered"

James was glad Lily was having fun with the McKinnons.

"I guess I should leave you to rest, right?"

"Yeah maybe or they are going to kill me.. " Lily said "James!" she exclaimed seconds later making James jump but loving to hear his name from her mouth "It's really late! No wonder the girls were annoyed"

James checked his watch. 2 a.m. Had they really been talking for three whole hours?

"You are right" he chuckled

"I didn't notice it was that late" Lily snorted.

"Time flies when you are having fun"

James could feel Lily's smile.

"Who said I was having fun?"

"Big mistake, you are actually annoyed by my irritating voice, right?"

Lily chuckled "Very irritated!"

"Knew it"

Lily laughed making James's heart melt.

"Have a good night, Potter"

"We are back to Potter? Aaw..."

Lily giggled "Go to sleep, James"

"That's better" he bit his lip "I like it when you say my name"

Shit! He was stepping over the line.

"Sweet dreams, Jaamees..." he imagined Lily rolling her eyes.

"As long as they are with you"

Definitely stepping over the line.

"Bye, Potter" Lily said but she was amused.

James smiled "Bye, Lily"

Lily was the one to hang up first but James felt the goofy smile on his face already. His face red, his ears burning but his happiness so loud it was contagious.

James loved Lily Evans. It could explain why he missed her already. He just talked to her for hours but it was never enough. He wanted to see her face and smell her perfume and if he was lucky kiss those lips...

James snapped out if it. Better not get his hopes up.

James felt he was practically floating when he reached his room. His parents were asleep already and the house was quiet.

He was careful not to make noise as he stepped inside.

"Done with your mellow phone call?"

James jumped and cursed under his breath.

Sirius was awake. Wearing one of James's shirts and inside his bed.

Sirius had his own room at the house by this point. Although he never slept in it. He had been attached to James like glue this summer. Especially after what happened with his family. Everytime James saw the bruise on his face, he wanted to kill Sirius’s father.

"Bloody hell, you scared me" James whispered, charged into his pijamas and got inside the covers next to Sirius.

Sirius stared openly the whole time.

"Couldn't sleep" Sirius explained "Came to see you but you were busy"

James grinned in response. He couldn't hide how happy talking with Lily made him.

Sirius was not pleased.

"How's Evans?"

"Beautiful!" James sighed as he leaned down "I mean well! She's having fun at the McKinnons"

"With one of Marlene's brothers, I presume?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Padfoot!" James protested trying not to sound jealous.

Adam and Cole were too much older for her.

"Joking" Sirius shrugged.

James stared. His best friend was upset. He had that face James knew well when he pretended to be fine but was dying inside. James could see inside his eyes how many things were going through his mind.

"Pads... Want to talk?"

"About Evans?" Sirius made a face.

"About you..."

"You look like a fool with your face all red and probably your dick hard"

James rolled his eyes.

"We are in good terms, best terms" he smiled. "I lose track of time when I talk with her"

"You lose control of your cock as well"

"Fuck off!"

It was Sirius who James wanted to tell his feelings about. He wanted to share his happiness with him. He wanted advice. He wanted to tell him he might be in love.

"Summer is about flings" Sirius snapped "She's probably having fun with different blokes..."

James blinked at him.

"Many things can happen at the beach"

James smiled slightly "Thank you for being so gentle with me"

Sirius grinned.

"She is having fun with you as well, messing with you over the phone"

"Lily is not like that"

"Lily, is it?" Sirius scoffed "You know her very well now, don't you?"

James was being patient.

"I reckon I've been getting to know her better"

Sirius clenched his teeth. James knew he was trying not to explode.

"How nice!" Sirius said sarcastically "Prepare to be in the friendzone forever!"

James wanted to do something to fix Sirius. To do something to make him feel better. He was a mess because of his fucked up family.

"What is it dear Pads?" James said with a cheeky smile "Are you jealous?"

He said it mostly to make a joke and make Sirius laugh. But it was surprising to see Sirius go red as a tomato.

"You are getting red!" James teased because Sirius had done the same. He poked his cheek.

Sirius got furious and pushed his hand away.

"Fuck off, Potter!!" he spat "I'm just watching your back. That girl is going to break your heart really fast! Then you will be crying around the corners like a baby and I don't want to deal with that!!"

And James was taken aback. Because Sirius was not joking anymore. It made James feel impotent not to help him.

"I really like Lily" James said carefully.

Sirius’s eyes filled with tears but he turned around and laid showing James his back.

"Let's just go to sleep"

James took a deep breath.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, Pads" he said "But you are my best friend. And I want you to be happy for me and support me with this. Lily might like me back or she might not. But I reckon it is my business to discover it. And yeah if she breaks my heart, I hope I can count on you to get the pieces back together... "

Sirius didn't move.

"I'll be the happiest man in the world when you fall in love for the first time, you know?"

Silence. Another sigh.

"Good night, Padfoot"

James took off his glasses and turned off the lights. What he didn't see was that Sirius was silently crying next to him. Because of the confusing feelings he was facing. For James. For Remus. And the whole mess with his family.

Sirius wanted to hug James, cry and forget about everything forever. But he was a coward to admit it.

#maraudersera #muggle au #marauders #james potter #lily evans #jily #sirius black #prongsfoot?

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 1 day ago

Text

Lais!! I'm SO sorry this took me such a long time to get to read!! It was totally my loss - because this was amazing! I've been wanting to read it since you posted it! 😩 But life has been ridiculous and I've been knocked tf out by Covid for about a week and a half!

I'm starting to do better, much less dizzy and feverish, so I can actually sit up and concentrate on a screen without feeling like I'm gonna pass out. 😞

Anyway, this story was definitely my treat for getting through Covid once again! It was amazing! And I absolutely loved it! Bunch of my rambling thoughts below. 😁❤️

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

He does just give that aura, I can't imagine anyone not being made to feel utterly safe with Dean nearby! 😍

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

I'm still not sure how anyone ever exists in a normal day-to-day existence with this man around! I think of all the things in the show that force the audience to suspend their belief, the idea that people can just continue to function normally with Dean right beside them is the hardest to swallow. 😁

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

😄 I feel her short person's frustration.

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

A very important part of Dean's overall appeal actually. In the show people are always giving him looks to say like, 🙄 "That wasn't funny." or just being like 😒. But I always think he's funny! He doesn't get enough credit for his sense of humour! ❤️

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

Hooray!! Way to go, Maisie! Though, I worry for her. I have a feeling he isn't going to accept that graciously! 😬

She stood on her tiptoes to reach his face, and Dean slid his hand to the small of her back, supporting her and bringing her close to his body, when- The sound of a loud honk startled them both, pulling them out of their lust haze.

I knew it!! If I didn't already hate him, I sure as hell hate him for interrupting that kiss!! 😡

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

From "darling" to "bitch" in two seconds flat. What a friggin' charmer this guy is!! 😡

“I want this to happen, whatever this is, between you and me. I want… to get to know you. If you want to, that is. But I need to make sure it has nothing to do with Eric. With me being in need of comfort, or company, or about you protecting me from him - which I’m thankful for, by the way.

VERY smart thinking on her part, very logical. Yet, I fear that could never be me. 😄 I don't think I'd ever have the willpower. She's absolutely right though. Gotta be sure, don't wanna ruin something so perfect just cause she got the timing wrong. ❤️

He quickly recovered, placing a hand on her cheek, deepening the kiss a little and guiding her into it, sliding his lower lip over hers and lightly sucking it.

“Yeah”, Sam let out a deep sigh and shook his head. “Eric broke in early in the morning, Maisie was still sleeping. He was drunk and screaming that they should get back together. She said no and told him to leave, so he started to lock all the doors and windows to stop her from escaping.

How completely terrifying!! 🥺🥺

She’d just been through a terrible trauma and, as a pro at avoiding feelings and acting like nothing wrong had happened, Dean knew exactly what she was doing.

I love him for that. ❤️❤️ It's exactly the kind of good man he is. But also - 😩 I feel for Maisie!! There's so much delicious tension here between them! It's so palpable! 🥵🥵

It also helped that I’m much taller than him”, he smirked, making Dean chuckle.

😄😄 Sam!! I love him!

“Take your shirt off, Dean”, she demanded, and he quickly obeyed. Maisie stared at him towering over her, his toned body looking godly under the dim lights of the room.

Oh my god!! That is the dream!! Dean Winchester mostly naked (okay, totally naked is better) and towering above me. 🥵🥵

“Tell me, Dean”, Maisie encouraged him, wanting to hear more of that deep, sexy voice of his saying dirty things to her.

Don't we all! Dean Winchester talking dirty is the hottest porn EVER!! 🥵🥵

Maisie was not happy with the fact that he didn’t look for Dean, and she had a suspicion that was the reason they fought.

You an me both, Mais! That was the only thing Sam ever did that TRULY pissed me off. I was very glad that he eventually admitted how wrong it had been and told Dean how sorry he was for it. Like, Dean, I forgave him, but I was SO mad!

I'm so interested to see how he's going to be with her!

“I- I love you too, Maisie. I didn’t realize how much until I couldn’t be with you”.

Yes!!!!! They admitted it! I was so worried too much time was going to have passed, or he was going to be too different, or something. But I'm SO happy that he just needed to get home to her!! ❤️

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

Dean as a girl dad is my ultimate happy headcanon! I just think he'd be an amazing Dad, period - but to a little girl?!!! A little girl with dark hair and green eyes?!! I'm gone! 😍😍

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

Okay, I absolutely LOVE that he was telling Lily their love story! 😍🥹

Once she’s old enough, she’s gonna know how her dad went through hell and Purgatory, and how her mom was the reason he came back every time.

All. the. tears. 😭😭😭

Astounding!! This story was so sweet and full. I love all the details, I love the way their love is both immediate and blooming. Like, they know immediately that it's something special, but they both work hard to make sure the moment is right for them. Like, I said, I love that they neither of them wants to blow it by starting something so perfect before it's the perfect time for them too.

I'm so happy for their happy ending! I loved this, my friend! Again, I'm so sorry it took me SO long to have the chance to read it! Rest assured, I'll be reading it again!! ❤️❤️

Dean x OFC: Short and Sweet

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Maisie (OFC)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MASTERLIST

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

"Hey, Dean", Sam had called.

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam chuckled, shaking his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No worries, sweetheart".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

Damn, he’s hot, she thought.

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

Maisie laughed, finding his unashamed flirtation amusing.

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

“You’re welcome, sweetheart”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Morning”, he greeted, holding his breath.

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

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

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

“Anytime, sweetheart”.

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The first time they kissed was totally unexpected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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38 days later

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

“Hey, Sammy”.

“Yeah”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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3 hours later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maisie started crying the minute Dean finished his question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, brother. Give him your worst”.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, it’s fine”, Dean answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean? Wake up”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”, Dean questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey”.

“Hey, you”, she replied in a whisper.

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

“I’m- I’m gonna be fine, I guess”.

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

She interrupted his thoughts by calling his name.

“What, sweetheart?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yes! Dean, I’m-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So, what?", Sam asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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5 years later – after Purgatory

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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10 years later – Lebanon, Kansas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END.

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

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