#and i know he has so much support and i know he wants to help. but he can’t find a therapist with his insurance right now
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Limerence ᥫ᭡; Midoriya Izuku + Bakugō Katsuki
ᨳ Synop. Getting hit by some hentai-esque wasn't on your thursday afternoon agenda but fate had a cruel, yet funny way of working. Finding yourself the damsel to two heroes, you struggle between giving into want and remaining level headed.
໋𓈒 Details. 18+ minors dni, gn afab, they/them pronouns used to refer to reader,extremely dubious consent, sex pollen quirk,threesomes, love confessions, oral (reader/katsuki receiving), fingering, anal (izuku), unprotected sex, creampies, no lube, no prep, unrealistic sex implied past relationship between izuku and katsuki, post manga timeskip, izuku is a teacher, katsui is a pro-hero, mild manga spoilers run time; 7.2k ৎ
(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) Director's Note. This spiralled into something even I couldn't fathom but please, enjoy <3
Every Thursday, Izuku walks you to the train station. The two of you work late most days but on Thursday you find yourself staying until the custodians shooed you out of the building with a mildly annoyed look. It was his first year teaching and your first year teaching at a hero school. U.A, was unprecedented in its unconventionality and unique approach, it left you and Izuku constantly crushed beneath a mountain of half graded homework and lesson plans neither of you had time for.
It surprised you more than it probably should have, that Izuku was struggling. He was an alumni, he knew exactly how the system operated at a far deeper level than you did, but he was drowning. He wore a smile on his face nonetheless, he may have been drowning but he was doing it happily. You weren't sure if it was for his students sake or for his own, you’d assume it was the latter. Everyone needs something to keep themselves tethered and sewed together. You didn’t judge. There was something to knowing that a great hero like Izuku needed something to keep himself a float.
That’s why you stayed late every day after work to lend him a helping hand. The first years could use all the extra help they could get and so could he. Their English grades had been abysmal, apparently the worst Principal Nezu had seen in years. As their homeroom teacher, it was Izuku’s job to get to the bottom of things. That leads him to you, again and again. In search of an answer, you weren’t sure but you didn’t mind shouldering the burden. You learned in the first few years of your career, much of teaching meant relying on those around you for support. You leant on your mentor teacher and shared resources with the other newbies who filled the staff room early in the mornings. Izuku didn’t like to lean, he’d shoulder it all alone if he could help it. That’s how hero training shaped him, you think, you couldn’t be too sure.
“I appreciate the company,” you say, finally cutting the silence that sat in the air between you, “But, I don’t want to inconvenience you since you live on campus.”
The slowly setting sun rays prick at your irises forcing you to squint as you peered at Izuku over your shoulder. His neatly styled suit that he wore to work everyday was half crumpled, missing his blazer and bright red tie. They were slung over the back of his chair in his office, never lasting more than half the work day.
Izuku’s lips quirk up slightly, the glint in his eyes is the same one he uses to teases his childhood friends who stop by U.A, “Haven’t I told enough you that you’re never an inconvenience to me,” he grins, slinging his arm around your shoulders. He’s a few inches shorter than you, even shorter when you wear your platform oxfords, he has to stretch himself to reach your height, “Besides, it isn’t safe for you to walk home this late in the day.”
You roll your eyes, your face warm. It was one stop to the studio apartment you were renting in the heart of Musutafu. You were certain if he didn’t have to check up on the students in their dorms he’d likely walk all the way home with you. But, as a homeroom teacher, it was his job to ensure class 1.A didn’t burn down the dormitories before the tenth anniversary of them being added to the campus.
“Still, you have enough work on your plate, I don’t want to add to it.”
Stuttering out the last few words made the very tips of your pointed ears burn. Under the warm, golden glow that bathed the city sky, you hoped your blush wasn’t too apparent to the naked eye. Something akin to butterflies fluttered in and out of your ribcage, tickling your chest until you were squirming for reprieve. Though he was now quirkless, Izuku was still as strong as he was during the war. He easily kept you pinned against his side as the two of you strolled down the sidewalk.
“Walks are good for the body and soul!” He chirps, chuckling at your petulant frown, “If anything, I should be thanking you for letting me accompany you.”
Squinting at him, you heave a sigh, “So if I said no, you wouldn’t walk me to the station?”
Izuku paused for a moment as though he were thinking before a sheepish expression bled onto features. Colour filled his round, freckled cheeks as he chuckled.
“Well, no!”
The exasperated breath of air that passed your lips was melodramatic and half dramatized as if to cover your tracks. But, you liked this cat and mouse game that you and he played each time he walked you home. You liked him.
You weren’t supposed to like him, not in the way you currently did but your heart was weak to his kind eyes and the soft way he regarded you and his students.
“See! So, why would I even bother,” you murmur, turning your face away to hide the growing smile that played at your lips, “I know you, Izuku and I know how persistent you are!”
“I’m just trying to do my civic duty and keep you safe.”
You aren’t a hero, the words almost rolled off your tongue. As if the crushing reminder of all that was lost to him was some playful foible for you to tease out when the mood was right.
“I can keep myself safe just as well,” you say instead, “And, I carry that taser I confiscated from one of Gang Orca’s students at lunch.”
Izuku stares at you, long and hard. You wonder what he’s thinking about, if your lack of quirk or desire to be a hero worries him. Most had pipe dreams of the glory that came with the title hero. There were fewer people who didn’t care for heroics than those who were quirkless.
“Really?”
His eyebrows dart into his hairline as he openly gapes at you, shock marring his features.
“You know those are illegal, right?” He asks, his tone climbing higher and higher, “Isn’t that why you confiscated it in the first place?”
Letting out a nervous chuckle you blanched, “It is?” You question, biting the corner of your lip, “I confiscated it because it’s dangerous for kids to be in possession of, even when they’re super powered heroes in training.”
“Yes!”
The two of you pause in front of the subway station, silence washing over you for a moment.
“Why don’t I stop by your place and pick it up,” Izuku offers, his calloused fingertips brushing your elbow, “I can take it off your hands and get rid of it, no one has to know that you kept it.”
His hands are scarred, much more than yours could ever be. It’s a sobering reminder of the life he used to have, the life he could one day have. The two of you were so different, sometimes it was easy to forget that. You and he wanted different things, and your commonalities could one day disappear. The thought made your stomach churn in discomfort.
You liked his presence and his friendship. But, you knew if he still had his quirk he wouldn’t be teaching. It was a hard pill to swallow.
“Yeah, alright,” you mutter, forcing a smile to your lips, “If you’re coming all this way then at least let me treat you to dinner.”
Scratching the back of his neck, Izuku turns a deep shade of red, “No, it’s alright, I want to help you out!”
Before you’re able to protest, the air is stolen from your lungs as a stranger's body barrels into yours and you’re knocked to the ground. Your palms are skinned from the pavement, blood blotting along the surface as you groan in pain. A strange scent fills the air, it's nauseatingly sweet and forces a choked gasp from your lungs.
“Are you alright?” Izuku coughs, crouching down to help you off the ground, “Did you hit your head?”
You shake your head, lips tightly pursed as your face scrunches up. Warmth melts through your body, every hair standing on end as a shiver trickles down your spine. Try as you might, no words can pass through your lips. They get stuck somewhere in the back of your throat, leaving only the slightest of whimpers to slip through. Your cheeks burn even hotter with embarrassment as Izuku helps you to your feet, but you can hardly stand. Your knees threaten to buckle and your thighs shake.
“Let me… Let me call someone,” Izuku stutters, his body flush against yours.
You can feel his heart racing and the muscles in his arms trembling as he holds you. He was so strong. His muscles practically bulge out of his crisp white button up shirt.
“I feel fine,” you murmur, blinking nervously, “Just let me go home, Izuku.”
Your ribs rattle out a wheeze as you press your fingers into the meat of his well toned shoulders. Izuku smells good, really good. The hint of cologne that's melted into his skin and mingled with his sweat and musk lights your body aflame with desire. The urge to reach out and lick the throbbing vein on the side of his neck, getting a closer taste of him and his sweat crosses your mind. It’s frightening how commonplace it feels within your discombobulated thoughts, as if it were meant to be there.
“You’re burning up.”
Whatever else Izuku might have said falls on deaf ears as your brain zeroes in on the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Your lashes flutter and your nails dig into his flesh as you will yourself to calm down. But, he’s hot, dangerously so. Izuku worsens the heat that laps at your belly and your cheeks. You feel as though you cannot breathe, each breath heavy and ragged as he speaks to some far away person over the phone.
“Izuku,” you whine, whatever was to come next spills off of your tongue in a needy little whimper as he presses the palm of his hand to your forehead.
Smoothing his rough hand over the curve of your cheek, he shushes you like a mother does a child, “Shh, you’re alright,” he coos, offering you a soothing caress, “Just remember to breathe, okay?”
Your eyes grow lidded as you lean into his touch. Each soft coo sends your mind deeper and deeper into the hole it's fallen in. The feel of him against you is almost too much for your quickly fading willpower. If not for the tiny, logical voice in the back of your skull screaming to remind you that the two of you were in public, you might’ve reached out to take a bite.
“Okay.”
You can’t remember what you were agreeing to, but the sigh of relief Izuku heaved made the pleasure centre of your brain light up in delight. It’s that measly, weak willed part of your brain that keeps you preoccupied with fantasies as heroes move all around you. Some of their voices are familiar, you think they must have stopped by to speak with your students but they’re not speaking to you. Everything is directed to Izuku who speaks in a harried manner, the worry evident in his tone. It doesn’t match the way he paws at your body or that thing poking at your thighs.
But, it’s his touch that grounds you and keeps you from losing it completely as the two of you are shoved in the back of an ambulance. The blaring sirens do little to keep this situation discreet, like you heard one of the heroes had requested. They’re sitting in the bay with you, their body a sea of orange, black, and green. Their rough, scraggly voice barks out frustrations to Izuku, to the paramedic, to the distant voice who rambles over speakerphone.
You squint at them and their jagged, pointy attire in vague recognition. They must have visited U.A. at some point, heroes were always brought in for some lesson or another.
“Kacchan, I’m fine!” Izuku’s voice squeals, you crane your neck just in time to catch him slapping the hero's hand away, “Their quirk didn’t hit me.”
“You know that's not how emitter quirks work, Deku,” ‘Kacchan’ gruffly barks out, “You’re getting looked at when we get to the hospital, end of discussion.”
“But-”
“End of discussion.”
Izuku wears a sheepish expression, his wide green eyes darting between you and the hero, “I was going to say, they’re quirkless and a civilian,” he says, “I’m worried.”
‘Kacchan’ barks out a laugh, “So are you, Deku.”
“It’s different.”
“Right you’re a special little boy, I forgot,” he sarcastically mutters, “Who somehow is immune to others' quirks, I almost forgot.”
You don’t have to look at Izuku to know he’s rolling his eyes, you could tell by the tone of his voice and the small huff that passes his lips. When his students asked for extensions an hour before the assignment was due, he’d roll his eyes and huff, but he always said yes.
“Yup, that's totally what I meant,” Izuku snips with a frown.
Your languid gaze settles onto his pink, freckled cheeks. His eyes are pointedly fixed to his shoes, shirking away from ‘Kacchan’s’ intense stare. The oxygen mask pinches uncomfortably at the bridge of your nose but your arm is strapped to the gurney, keeping you firmly in place. Izuku spares a quick flit of his eyes over your body before he returns to his avoidance. ‘Kacchan’ leers almost menacingly.
“Stop bein’ such a damn brat,” he barks, gripping Izuku by the chin, “Your face is all red and you’re sweating, this isn’t normal.”
Izuku’s cheeks are a ruddy red and puffed into a pout. His freckles spill out from between the other man's rough, calloused hands. A beat of silence passes between the two of them. It’s suffocating, the tensed air that fills the cramped ambulance bay. You should look away from them but they’re so wrapped up in this silent exchange that they wouldn’t even notice your intrusion. They weren’t noticing your long, tiresome stare or your wide eyes that flit between them.
“Fine.”
Izuku concedes surprisingly quickly.
He squirms in his seat, he must be embarrassed to be bossed around like that. You miss the quiver of his upper lip and the nervous sweat that breaks out on his brow. A low whisper is hissed between the two men, your hazed mind can’t even begin to make out what might’ve been said but it stirs a whimper like sound from your colleague. Wrenching the heroes hand from his face, Izuku sulks with a flush melting down his neck. The other man wears a smug, satisfied smirk— one where the corners of his lips curl upwards
The ambulance halts to a stop, hardly jostling them but it sends your head spinning. You have to squish your eyes shut to keep the ringing in your ears at bay. Somewhere between being pulled into the emergency room and being rushed into a private room, your consciousness fades. When it returns to you, you’re not in the sterile hospital room you imagined you’d be in.
You’re splayed across a plush couch, there’s a chunky knit throw wrapped around your legs and tucked up beneath your chin. The air is musky, filled with something warm and welcoming. It worsens the burn that itches your skin.
“Where am-”
“You’re awake, good,” a familiar voice chirps.
Izuku’s freckled face fills your vision, he wears a strained smile. His cheeks are ruddy and his skin is glistening with sweat. Perching himself on the arm of the sofa, he reaches forward to rest his hand on your ankle. His hand is scarred with rough skin that trailed up to his elbow, a memory of a past lifetime sealed within the confines of his youth. The feel of his skin against yours makes you jolt, skittering away from the explosion of heat that travels up your calf and snakes its way up your thigh.
“Izuku,” you pant, blinking at him as if he were some mirage that might soon disappear, “What happened? Where are we? Why aren’t we at the hospital, I remember being in an ambulance.”
Slinking into the plush cushion beside you, Izuku raises a hand, “Woah, slow down, I can explain.”
“The two of you got hit with a sex pollen quirk,” a gruff voice chimes in, heavy footfalls accompanying them, “End of story.”
“What?”
The hero from before materializes behind Izuku, no longer clad in his hero suit but instead a pair of soft grey sweatpants and a thin black muscle tank top. It’s a stark contrast to the messy suit that hangs off Izuku’s frame and the rumpled sundress you excitedly picked out to wear this morning. The spiked blonde hair and sharp, ruby eyes lined in smudged black were familiar but you couldn’t quite place where you knew him from.
“Kacchan do you always have to be so crass?” Izuku shrieks, “This is why you’re number fifteen because you refuse to use any of the media training we did in school!”
“Is that why I feel so … Funny?”
Your face burns with shame and embarrassment. While ‘Kacchan’ was reticent, the picture of nonchalance as he leaned against the sofa, his chest flush to Izuku’s spine.
“But, why are we here? Why aren’t we at the hospital?”
“There’s nothing they could do to reverse the effect of the quirks,” Izuku murmurs, gently caressing your ankle, “Kacchan offered a private place for us to wait it out.”
“I figured if you were going to fuck to get it out of your system, here was better than your lodgings at U.A.”
A shiver trickles down your spine, forcing you to curl into the corner of the sofa as confusion muddied your mind. ‘Kacchan’ snorted a laugh as you stared off in a mix of horror and confusion, “A sex pollen quirk?” You echoed, speaking to no one but yourself, “I thought those were just a trope in those bodice rippers to sell to lonely moms.”
“Apparently not,” Izuku winced, lightly elbowing his friend, “So now we’re here.”
“We’re here.”
You look around the room like a trapped animal in need of an escape.
“Sorry but, what is your name?” You question, your lips dipping into a frown, “If I’m going to be staying in your home until the quirk wears off, I should know your name.”
“If it wears off,” he mutters, eliciting another elbow to the gut and a shrill call of his name, “Whatever, the name’s Bakugō Katsuki or as you may know me, Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight.”
You nod to show you’ve retained what he just said but the ripple of his muscles as he leaned over to shake your hand distracted you. Izuku bounces anxiously between you, chewing on his lip until the skin cracks and ichor tinges his tongue. The urge to lap it up swirls in your belly and you find yourself reaching forward and grasping at his slacks.
“Get it out of our systems,” you whisper, your mind stuck on Bakugō’s earlier words.
That damned smug smirk creeps onto his face once more, almost as if he was pleased by the situation before him. You had heard in passing of heroes wearing righteousness as a facade and enjoyed certain unsavory situations and chaos just as much as some villains did. You didn't think Izuke would have remained with someone who had such little honour but you could feel the smug satisfaction roll off Bakugō in waves. It was as though he wanted this to happen.
“Mhm,” Izuku all but purred as he leaned closer to you.
Bakugō knotted his fingers into Izuku’s sweat dabbled, unruly curls pushing his head closer to yours until you felt his warm breath fanning across your lips. The hair on the back of your neck stands and your breathing grows laboured. All you could think about since joining the faculty back in April was him, what his tongue may taste like, and if he would moan in your mouth like he did in your dreams. It was wrong of you to want him so bad but your wanton, lust filled mind was begging you to take this chance to have him with no repercussions, and no regrets.
Your rumination came to an end as Bakugō pressed Izuku’s mouth to yours. A puppeteer relishing in his work, he snorts as you eagerly lap at Izuku’s mouth, pawing at his torso with wanton lust. His fingers are quick to tangle in your hair and grip the back of your neck. The feel of his rough, scarred skin against your tender, flush neck makes your body burst out into goosebumps which drives you closer to him in search of warmth in spite of the burning balm that’s settled over you.
Lucidity melts your mind further. The longer you’re awake, shaking off the fog and allowing the adrenaline to settle in, the more your desire grows. It’s spiralled out of control and your body acts without your mind's permission.
“Izuku,” you whimper into his lips, wrinkling his dress shirt between your fists, “Please… Give me more.”
Bakugō roughly pats your head, tussling your hair around as if he were trying to give you a noogie, “Don’t you worry, Deku here is a good boy, he’ll give you what you need.”
Izuku moans into your mouth, his body reacting to his friend's words. His hands tremble as they curl into the nape of your neck. You take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, lapping at his molars and gums to memorize every inch of his kiss and the way he tastes, if gum or some other thing might cling to his teeth.
“Oh that’s it, atta boy,” Bakugō barks, his rough fingers tug at the roots of your hair as if to guide your tongue further into Izuku’s mouth.
Your eyes flit open on their own accord, perhaps to peer into Bakugō’s. They’re a dark shade of red, his pupils large and imposing as they peer, fixated on the sloppy slip and slide of your tongue against Izuku’s. They press close soon after they meet Bakugō’s for but a moment, forced by the nervous thrum of your heart that rises when he notices your staring.
Izuku notices the stall in your movements and the sloppy slip of your tongue, “Hey,” he coos against your lips, “Are you okay?”
You nod a bit, not minding the way your head knocks into his. You’re all but about to crawl out of your skin. Discomfort and discontent with being watched like a bug pinned beneath a microscope, sharp and calculating eyes dissecting your every move as if they determine your worthiness for his best friend. Oh, but the haze that clouded your mind and soaked through your panties kept you glued to the soft sofa and Izuku’s warm embrace, searching for something to quell the overwhelming, wanton need that choked your delicate throat.
Izuku tosses a spare glance over his shoulder to Bakugō, calculating and sizing the man up, “Kacchan do you mind?” He murmurs, it's less of a request and more of a statement but you’re unsure what it’s meant to mean.
Their eyes catch for a moment, a million words silently pass between them. They speak a language you can’t understand but the incessant throbbing in your cunt keeps the insecurity from eating away at you.
“He can stay if you want,” you whisper, your voice a stranger to your ears.
“Kacchan’s gonna leave,” Izuku’s voice is clipped as his emerald green eyes slide back to gaze into yours, “Isn’t that right?”
The two pause for a moment, a beat passing between them. The weight of their history is heavy in the air, tension palpable. You attempt to squirm away, to put some space between you and Izuku but his calloused hands keep you pinned firmly between him and the sofa. Your clit throbs with need, no amount of discomfort could cloud the fact that you found his strength immensely attractive.
“I was?”
The heat that emanates from between their exchanges burns you. Lapping at the tops of your thighs and licking your belly. You feel it deep within you, the staunch, growing need that’s driving you half mad. Whatever history laid between them, however complicated and rich, mattered not. How could it, when heady desire so thick laid itself over your feeble body?
“You wanna kiss him?” You murmur to neither man in particular, squishing your thighs together to quell the throb.
“No, angel,” Bakugō says, shoving his face over Izuku’s shoulder, “I want to kiss you, to know what you taste like.”
He leers at you in spite of the nervous glance his friend gives him but you pay it no mind. Your ego triples in its size, as does your fervent lust. You may not have cared enough to pay attention to the current hero ranks or the thriving celebrity culture, but you knew well enough to be flattered. Not just because anyone would want to be vied after by an affluent pro hero, but because Bakugō was stunning in his own right. Somewhere in the back of your mind, exists the pieces of him you’ve come across. Though mystified and shrouded by confusion, somewhere, he existed beyond the stretch of this one meeting.
“I know all about Izuku already.”
“Me?” You dumbly point to yourself, as if there were a fourth person in the room that he might have been conversing with.
He nods his head and the glint in his eyes feels predatory. You wither under his stare, fawning to him like a prey animal.
“Okay.”
The word is whispered and you have a feeling no matter what you said in that moment, it’d end with your mouth on his.
Bakugō’s body all but engulf’s Izuku’s frame. You had thought before that Izuku was large with well cared for muscles and thigh shoulders but his friend made him look small in comparison. With only a few extra inches of height to his name, Bakugō was big and burly, with muscles that tapered off into a surprisingly trim waist.
Izuku pouted as he was pressed in between the two of you, his neck bared as he cocked his head to the side to allow Bakugō some room, “Don’t be like that Deku,” he rasps against the shell of his ear, “You knew how I felt about them.”
The confession hangs heavily in the air but it doesn’t linger long. Bakugō presses a balmy, open mouthed kiss to Izuku’s jugular, the light highlighting the glint of his teeth as the nip at his freckled skin. A moan melts off Izuku’s tongue and that seems to satisfy both men. Bakugō crowds into your space, his nudge nudging yours.
You languidly blink at him, waiting for him to take what he wants. His rough, calloused fingers grasp the tip of your chin, his warm breath fanning across your lips. You find yourself leaning in, your lips brushing his, a small coquettish whimper sticking to the back of your throat.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to know what you taste like,” his voice is surprisingly soft, it makes your heart skip a beat.
Bakugō takes his time with kissing you, as if he knows the moment this quirk wears off the only pieces of you he’d get to have are short glimpses in the halls of U.A. He smells of sweat and ash, tastes like a hot cinnamon heart candy. That must have been the flavour of gum he was chewing on in the ambulance. His tongue laps at your gums and flick over your molars as if searching for all the hidden pieces of yourself. If intimacy lay in the knowledge of one's body, Bakugō was skipping all the pretext that comes before such closeness. He kissed you like the two of you had been simmering on low for years, a shared heat enveloping you. Maybe those months felt like years for him as you only had eyes for Izuku.
You’re unsure who you touch as your hands explore the expanse of clothed shoulders and biceps. The tickle of hair brushes your skin but the dizzying warmth shrouds your ability to discern the who and the wear. Both men were all over you, all at once. Izuku, nuzzling himself into you, sweet kisses pressed to your collarbones and sternum. He stroked the side of your abdomen, sneaking his fingers beneath your dress shirt. This morning, you had woken up extra early to iron your shirt in the hopes of looking nice. The fabric was now crumpled and soaked with sweat, the cuffs dabbled with blood from when you fell.
Bakugō’s lips are red and kiss bitten when he pulls away, swiping his thumb along the length of his bottom lip, he grins at you, satisfied with himself.
With a whine, you roll your hips against Izuku, searching for stimulation.
“What’s wrong?” He coos, his brow furrowed as he cups his cheek.
A haggard breath leaves your chest, “I’m so hot,” you all but squeal, “And needy it, I need you Izuku please.”
“You heard them, they need you, Deku.”
Izuku freeze’s for a moment, his face flush and hot. If he had some sort of emitter quirk you’re sure he’d be spitting flames from his cheeks, “Need me where, sweetheart?”
Cupping his hand with your own, you guide it between your legs. The thick tweed fabric of your slacks is uncomfortably wet with your arousal. The press of his hand to your cunt feels near euphoric, you can’t help the wanton moan you release. Izuku needs no further instruction as he flicks open the top button of your pants and begins to peel them down your hips. Your underwear is pulled down your thighs and bunched up, tossed somewhere in the living room with your socks and shoes.
Izuku moans when your spread your legs to give him space, his bottom lip squished between his teeth, “Fuck, your so…” He trails off, blinking a bit.
“Your cunt is perfect,” Bakugō finishes for him, sprawling across Izuku’s shoulders.
Bakugō roughly gropes Izuku’s erection through his dress pants, his free hand threads itself in his unruly green hair and pushes his head towards your throbbing cunt. Your eyes roll into your skull when the tip of his nose brushes against your aching clit. Your fingers tangle with Bakugō’s as you grip the roots of Izuku’s hair.
“Please,” you beg, twitching your hips upwards, “Lick my pussy, please Izu’.”
Izuku makes for an obedient puppy. In another life, one without such ambition, he might’ve made a good soldier with how well he took orders from you. His tongue lolled out to kitten lick your cunt, his green eyes peering up at you in concern. They shut quickly as he loses himself in your taste, groaning into you as he slurps up every last drop of your thick, sticky arousal that gushes from your cunt.
Bakugō wastes no time in unbuckling Izuku’s belt, pushing his pants and briefs down his thigh. Your mouth grows dry at the sight of his cock, heavy, hairy, and twitching with need. Precum drips from the ruddy tip onto the fuzzy carpet but neither man pays no mind. His wrist snaps as he gives Izuku’s cock a languid stroke. The groans of pleasure are swallowed up by your pussy, the vibrations from his vocal chords making your head spin. The muscles in your tummy are pulled taunt as they’re wound up. The tension that settles in your shoulders threatens to tear you apart.
Your orgasm washes over you with a startling quickness but it isn’t enough. Your nails dig into Izuku’s scalp as you keep his mouth pressed to your cunt even if he’s choking on your squirt. It drips down the leather cushions of the sofa and it squeaks obnoxiously as your skin slides against it. Bakugō pulls Izuku closer to him by the hips, bringing you with him. His sweatpants are bunched around his hips, pulled down just enough for dick to sit over the waist band. Unlike Izuku’s thick, curly bush and freckled pelvis, Bakugō’s pale blond pubes blend in with his skin but you can tell that he’s kept it trim. Trickling from beneath his belly button, his sparse happy trail guides your eyes to his cock. It’s thin and long with a bruised bulbous tip that leaks when he gives it a firm squeeze at the base.
With lidded eyes, you watch with intrigue when Bakugō spits on Izuku’s ass, rubbing it around his asshole with his thumb.
“Katsuki…” Izuku murmurs from between your thighs, “Are you gonna…?”
Bakugō silences him by pushing his mouth back into your cunt and like the obedient little runt he is, he latches his lips to your clit. Pressing the tip of his dick to Izuku’s eager hole, Bakugō stifles a grunt behind a wicked grin. It’s difficult to focus on one thing and how can you, when Izuku’s thick fingers prod at your weeping hole and he’s moaning like a whore with tears in his eyes as Bakugō splits him in half with not a moment of reprieve. It's sloppy, the way Izuku fingers your cunt, slick and squirt squelching loudly like an erotic symphony.
“Come on now, don’t slow down now” Bakugō chides, the hem of his muscle tank inching up his stomach as he snaps his hips into Izuku, “Be good now and put your mouth to use.”
Somewhere in the alphabet soup of your pleasure addled mind, you manage to string together a sentence, “You’re so mean to him,” you whine, writhing in Izuku’s hold, “Izu is so nice an’ he smells like sage.”
“He likes it,” he chuckles, leaning over Izuku’s back to peck your lips, “Would you rather I be mean to you?”
You try to shake your head but another orgasm hits you and you’re forced to gulp down a few breaths before you can attempt to speak. The two men call your name in synchronized echoes like hymns of worship bouncing off stone temple walls.
“No, just play nice with us.”
Izuku’s nails bite into the fat of your hips as he uses you for stability, his head bobbing like he’s brainless, “Shh, it’s okay sweetheart,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on your hip, “Kacchan is all bark.”
His chin is shiny with your spend, it’s dripped down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. Your body prickles with shame but it’s nothing in comparison to the snarly beast of want that claws at your chest, begging for more than just fingers and tongue.
“I wish he’d bite me instead.”
The two laugh, there’s a knowing look again, that look in the eye that makes your eyes flit away from the intensity, “I do if asked nicely.”
Blood prickles at the surface of your skin when Bakugō picks up the pace, roughly slamming his cock into Izuku’s poor battered hole. You’re almost mesmerized how his cock flops uselessly against his tummy with each deep thrust. His nails leave raised streaks in your skin that stirs something exciting in your chest. Your name is said like a prayer as Izuku cums, his cock twitching as his cum pools atop the carpet.
Somehow, Izuku’s cock becomes even stiffer, standing to attention in search of the warmth of human touch. Bakugō kisses the nape of his neck, whispering something to Izuku as he buries his cock into his ass.
“Sweetheart, can I…. I want to… no,” Izuku starts and stops himself like he’s talking to his boss. Beating around the push, unsure of how to make his request palatable, “Can I please fuck you?”
The soft, nervous lilt of his voice makes your cunt throb, you nod before you can choke out a “Yes,” breathed and painted with excitement, “Yes please, please I need you inside of me.”
Untangling himself from Bakugō’s reach, Izuku pushes you deep into the plush of the sofa. He wears a timid smile that threatens on wild. The apples of his cheeks are flush, you can’t help but reach up to pinch them, your thumb smoothing along his scar dappled skin. Pushing some of your sweat damp hair away from your forehead, Izuku settles between your thighs.
“You’re so pretty, sweetheart,” he whispers to you like he��s confessing a secret, giddy and drunk off the feeling, “How are you so pretty, so perfect?”
His question goes unanswered because he presses the slick tip of his cock to your cunt, sliding it between your sticky folds, “Hurry up!” You bark, simpering when you realize the tone of your voice is scarily demanding and petulant, “I can’t wait any longer, please.”
Caressing the side of your face, Izuku coos at you a soft apology with a kiss to placate your nerves. He’s far slower than Bakugō, who paid no mind to taking his time in stretching Izuku out. The fat head of his cock presses inside your pulsing hole and sits there for a moment as your chest heaves from the mind numbing stretch. Bakugō saunters around the other side of the sofa standing where your head hangs off the arm. His dick stares directly at you, a taunting treat that is just begging for you to take a bite.
Your jaw falls slack and your tongue follows suit. Izuku takes it as an invitation to kiss you, clumsily like it was his first. He’s eager and all over you, the snap of his hips jaggad and haggard.
“So pretty,” he whispers into your waiting lips, “I can’t believe I get to fuck you, I like you so much.”
You think you hear Bakugō chuckle. If he does, it's hidden but the wet squelch of his cock as he fists it over your faces. Either way, you’re too distracted by the operative word Izuku uses, “like”, you wanted it to be love. It’d only been a few months since you met him but you think you might’ve loved him the moment you laid eyes on him. You wanted him to love you too, to want more than just fevered kisses in the midst of an aphrodisiac fueled bacchanal. But that was asking too much, you wanted too much. You were greedy and wrought with selfish desire. And you couldn’t breathe.
Pulling at the buttons of your dress shirt, your pluck at the fabric until it gives way. The tepid air feels heavenly on your sweat slick skin for but a moment before you’re shrouded by the heat of two bodies. Bakugō slots his cock between your two open mouths and you suckle on the long throbbing vein to pacify your bleeding heart. Izuku’s tongue slides against yours, laving over Bakugō’s length as he pumps into you.
Warmth spreads in your abdomen and spills down your thighs. It bites at the edge of your vision, stars and bits of black swimming along until your consciousness fades. Sleep greets you like an old friend. It cradles your head and swaddles you in a cocoon of comfort. Your anxieties and that horrid pit in your stomach fade away with the sweet dreams that visit you.
You’re unsure how long you slumbered for but when you awake, the room was bathed in the golden glow of morning. There’s a grey duvet tucked up to your chin, it smells of laundry detergent and musk. Your bare body is battered, sore to the bone with bruises littering your thighs and hips. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you survey the room. It’s barren and hardly lived in, if it weren’t for the pile of clothes hanging off the wicker basket hamper in the corner of the room.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Izuku’s cheerful voice rings out, he peers around the doorway with a tray of food, “How are you feeling?”
Your throat is dry, the words stick to the sides of your esophagus, “I feel…” You rasp, shaking your head, “Fine, how are you?”
Izuku offers you a smile, “I’m alright,” he offers you the tray, there’s a glass of water and a bottle of Advil, “Here, you should drink up.”
When you make no movement to grab the glass, Izuku plucks two pills from the bottle and brings the water towards your lips. Pressing the medication to your mouth, you swallow it down with his quiet instruction. He coos small praises into your ear, the way he does with his students. Your stomach flips with nerves as flashes of yesterday come rushing back.
Before you can speak the ensuite door flies open, a plume of steam coming with it. Bakugō stands in the doorway in nothing but a pair of loose gym shorts, toweling off his short spiky hair.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Kacchan!”
Silence fills the space uncomfortably.
“Did you tell them yet?” Bakugō says, nodding towards you.
“Tell me what?” Your kiss bitten lips ache but you chew on them anyways.
Izuku shakes his head, “No,” he mutters, “They just woke up.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
Bakugō huffs through his nose, his gaze cutting through you as he pins down Izuku with his eyes,“They deserve to know.”
“To know what?” Anxiety bubbles in your belly. The pills that sit at the back of your throat threaten to make a reappearance. Blood coats your tongue as you split the skin of your lips. You think you know what they might say. It was all a mistake, likened to a drunken affair between a married man and a spring flower, decades younger, still in bloom.
“That we both have feelings for you.”
Oh.
And suddenly, those pesky wants of yours didn’t feel so far away. You didn’t feel so hard to love or desire. But, the thought of it stole your breath. It prickled you with anxiety and fears akin to not enough.
All you could say was, “Oh.”
Because whatever you felt for Izuku had no name and if it did, you weren’t sure such a word existed in Japanese nor English. And Bakugō, the guilt crept up for all the things you didn’t feel or couldn’t. Maybe you did feel something, not flattery but something concrete that pushed its way through the thick heat of desire that made you act so foolishly. You thought maybe he was just stroking your ego, that wanton lust to know the taste if another could be just that, lust. No feelings that were any deeper than a kiddy pool.
One of them calls your name, but it all sounds like static.
“And here I thought it was all in my head.”
And maybe it was. Maybe you were still dreaming.
You think that might be it until Izuku surges forward to kiss you long and hard. Your head is filled with the same intoxicating rush. The quirk must not have been as strong as you thought after all.
© All content belongs to butchizuku. You are not allowed to modify, translate, redistribute, or plagiarize in anyway. Do not recommend outside of tumblr (tiktok, wattpad, twitter etc).
#bnha smut#izuku x reader#bakugou x reader#izuku smut#bakugo smut#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha smut#izuku midoria x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#᭄᭡⠀written word
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Marvel is old. Like, not just bcs he is a entity of zillions of years old Billy was born and imprisoned for several years in a relatively conservative time full of prejudices.
When the time bubble pops and the League finds out about it, they expect Captain Marvel to be some kind of very close-minded, militaristic guy who will find the new generation full of sins (They don't know that in Fawcett there is so much magic, different species and queer entities that it is impossible to really be a socially backward place. They also don't know that the captain is a guy who doesn't like the police very much and his favorite sport is beating up nazis)
And well, finding out that the guy you thought would give you headaches in the modern age is actually super happy about it is kind of shocking Batman already had several slides ready to give the captain a lecture about respect
Marvel: Oh my gods, I found some pamphlets about these pride parades. Mr Batman, can I take this weekend off? I would love to go with my brother there!
Batman: Your... brother?
Marvel: Yes! Well, my whole family. We were part of some protests for the queer community in my time, but we were not part of any since the bubble. He liked the idea, but he's too shy to go alone, so me, my brothers and sisters wanna go with him to support him!
Batman: ... Of course, I will arrange for someone to take over your monitor duties
And next week there are several news about how the new-old heroes appeared on pride parade.
They help with things like free water and snacks distribution, first aid for minor injuries, they ensure that no homophobes try to start a fight, they don't let it turn into a mess and in general they also participate. They are practically all painted in colorful colors, their capes are personalized, some of them are dancing, others are further away taking care of the environment. Marvel does some magic tricks, makes rainbows appear in the sky and all that And they absolutely shower the green-suited superhero, aka they bro, with support and love. Vicki Vale and Cat Grant are dying to know why
And things like this just keep happening. Is there a protest in Asia about feminism? The Shazam family will be there, Mary and Darla protesting while their brothers stand around staring at anyone who wants to intervene. Community centers for homeless charities? captain will appear to call the public, ask for support and do some tricks to please the rich Donations to hospitals? They are all out there distributing news, asking anyone who can help, to help. A movement for teacher salary justice in Brazil? They are already there to help Or are movements taking place to preserve Brazilian flora? because of the criminal fires happening in the Amazon? They are there again, using their magic to heal what was hurt, put out what burned and protest, demanding more attention from the government. Do they want to take away land from indigenous tribes? They're going to have to go over the captain first. News broke about high levels of trash in the ocean. But Aquaman barely has time to deal with it himself, he sees his co-worker there with his family gathering pieces of trash and separating them for their own disposal, using spells to separate chemicals and water pollution. Is Gotham suffering from polluted air? The captain will gather a bunch of clouds and sprinkle them with some magic, and his raindrops will gradually purify the air for the people Is a police officer being cleared after attacking a teenager? no no no, marvel will be in front of the police station in the morning along with a bunch of civilians wanting justice Does a police car, or any car in general, have a sticker that supports some kind of tyrannical movement? apology for the Nazis? to an oppressive government? a prejudiced joke? Oh man, you better be ready for dawn with every part of this car missing, probably being sold illegally and having the proceeds sent to charity The fact that the captain calls the police bastard pigs was a shock, some got defensive and such, others thought it was great. It was a slight headache for the Justice League when it came to the media, but it's not like the government liked them before The movements in Brazil are there because im brazilian, raised by a teacher, there was no way to avoid it. Billy come to brasil <3
#batman#billy batson#shazam family#shazam#headcanon#dc#fawcett city#dc captain marvel#captain marvel dc#im sleepy#sillyposting#sorry if I confused something#captain marvel
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Barok the physically affectionate my beloved
#ace attorney#the great ace attorney#barok van zieks#albert harebrayne#benbaro#tgaa#dgs#my art#god I just…love Barok acting ways you wouldn’t expect. I love emotionally deprived Barok who doesn’t realize how much he missed genuine -#human interaction and love so he once he has someone who can give that to him he can’t stop himself from holding them in the most gentle yet#yearning way possible.#I want him to hold and be held#I want him to keep that stupid doomed look on his face but his heart be so filled with life and love and show it through his actions#I want Barok to be continue being the man he’s become but also the man he was. an equilibrium. a balance#I want this man to cave and give in to the horrors again but this time have people by his side. and for him to trust those people. let them-#help and comfort and support him. I want him to feel LOVED#we’re already told that Barok has a different side to him other then the ‘reaper’ and I want to see more of it#okay this started off bc I wanted to draw silly doodles of Barok carrying Albert but then I started thinking about Barok showing#physical affection and I WENT OFF THE WALLS#this is how I know BenBaro is a TOP TIER ship bc I simply love all interpretations. like the ones where either one or both of them don’t-#like physical touch and rather show their love with words/actions and show their appreciation simply by being IS SO GOOD!!!#they are just so good!!! the game shows just enough and not enough to were you can really be versatile with your interpretations and it work#also maybe I’m touch starved?
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My rapid fire ACOTAR hot takes that y’all will hate:
I pray the pros don’t find this
I don’t ship Elriel or Elucien because I ship Elain with singleness and just traveling Prythian to learn about different plants and then settling down somewhere to become an apothecary. Is she aromantic and suffering from comphet in my head? You’ll never know
Nesta would not have eaten Lucien alive, I think she’d be tentative at first but then realize he’s not a threat to her then grow to enjoy his presence. They could have had a great romance that actually helped her grow as a person, unlike Nessian.
Nessian is a mutually destructive relationship. Cassian is too insecure to date someone who he thinks looks down at him. Nesta needs an emotionally supportive partner.
There was ZERO need to actively SA Feyre publicly to make her look subservient or as if she had a “claim” laid on her. The reasoning is weak, and SJM an Rhysand fans need to admit that they only defend it because they thought it was sexy, or because they self-insert and can’t make Rhysand actually look bad.
Tamlin isn’t a bad leader, but it doesn’t suit him. He’s much more of a people person than someone who would like to be removed from them and working on laws and politics.
Tamlin should be walking around the SC as they rebuild and see a woman directing townspeople on how to do so. Tamlin would admire her for being able to connect with people but also being able to govern well. They would have a romance and that woman would eventually become a lady and help Tamlin govern because she wants to make a difference and is good at that stuff. They eventually get married 💥
Canon Elain is my least favorite Archeron. I think she’s manipulative and worse than Nesta in her cabin behavior because she wasn’t upfront about it. She let Feyre think she was useless and kind, to later only throw her under the bus. Nesta is the one who went to the wall for Feyre, and Elain didn’t gaf about Nesta caring for her the second is stopped benefitting her. Elain even acknowledges all that Feyre did for them, and yet she still didn’t do anything
BUT to append to that, I totally get why she’s that way. It’s her only means of survival because since childhood she was treated as a doll with noice of her own. She can’t be upfront like Nesta because she won’t get taken seriously, so her only way to get what she wants is to manipulate people and use her niceness as a mask.
Nesta and Feyre have a closer relationship than Nesta and Elain solely because they were constantly arguing. Nesta “favored” Elain, but it was still distant, but she actively watched Feyre and treated her like a whole person even if it was poorly. I think this is also exemplified in their appearance. Feyre and Nesta look very similar, while Elain doesn’t look like them as much.
You can’t argue that Feyre’s childhood was traumatizing (it was) but then say that it had no negative effects on her development and ability to socialize.
Feyre is NOT good at reading people despite what y’all like to argue. She can barely read Nesta, a woman she’s known for 20 years.
She suffers from hubris and has a savior complex. For example, when the debtors came to cripple her father she notes that they only left after SHE cried and soiled herself. In her perspective she will always be the hero because that’s how she makes herself fell good.
Arguable my hottest take: I don’t think Nesta and Feyre had a power imbalance in the cottage to make their relationship abusive. In fact, I think Feyre held more power over Nesta, Nesta just didn’t acknowledge it/was mean so it didn’t seem like it. Feyre was their father’s favorite, was the breadwinner, and technically dictated whether they would get to eat. Feyre held control over her family’s survival, even if she didn’t want it, and they all knew this. It is specifically why Elain sucked up to her (a character know to jump to whoever has the most power at the moment and would protect her the most)
Feyre doesn’t act how she wants to, but rather as she thinks a good person would. She doesn’t want to hunt, but she does so because she thinks she has to. Many of her acts are “selfless” but are often shallow. She also thinks everyone wants to the helped the same way she would want to be.
To add to this, she doesn’t love her sisters. She doesn’t love them for who they are, but because of proximity. She even says to Nesta when trying to get her to come to solstice “but you’re my sister”
Feyre did not know love and it did not know her, and thus made her latch on to whoever gave her affection and she deemed as her own savior (Tamlin and Rhysand). Should she finally ever feel suffocated by Rhysand (though he has ensured she won’t), I wouldn’t doubt that she would run to another.
Feyre has 0 healthy relationships. ZILCH
By adulthood, Feyre’s illiteracy is no one’s fault but her own. As a child she didn’t want to ask Nesta, but she didn’t ask Elain or her father either. Even then they fell into poverty at like 9 and she still didn’t learn much so that doesn’t make sense. She refused Tamlin’s help and Rhysand literally had to force her to learn.
Rhysand’s character makes 0 sense when you consider her upbringing, family, friends, personality, and powers, and is just a product of SJM trying to write the morally grey ultimate love interest.
I’m on the fence about him being a master manipulator towards Feyre and the IC. I doubt Sarah meant for him to come off like that, but if he actually was it would be a masterful story and make his character feel more cohesive.
HOWEVER, if he was a manipulator I don’t think it would be that impressive for him to manipulate Feyre. She is naive and new to the world of fae, and she switches her opinions like night and day. She would be the perfect target. Again, this comes about from her upbringing and her own hubris.
The series should stuck to being a trilogy. Insert it drags on and makes new problems that aren’t even properly addressed
This was not rapid I fear
#anti acotar#anti rhysand#Rhysand critical#feyre critical#elain critical#nesta archeron#pro nesta#Anti feysand#Anti nessian#anti inner circle#anti feyre
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Good lord what is the young Joel and Marcus wip 😏
ANON come here and let me kiss you on the forehead!! This one is special to me 😍
First of all... young!Joel Miller x young!MarcusMoreno is not a pairing that comes completely out of nowhere. As a matter of fact, they're lurking in my masterlist, tucked into a story, but I don't want to spoiler it for other people who may not have read some of the fics I wrote last year.
However, if you know - you know. 😏
Let's get into it:
This is probably one of the heftiest WIPs that I haven't posted anything from yet, as the doc clocks in at about 5K so far - and it's actually going to be a series! I'd say a tentative 9 to 10 (not super long, hopefully LOL) chapters at this point. And I'm actually going to try to have most of this written, or at the very least have half of it done before I post the first chapter, just to make things a little more manageable for myself.
We meet Joel and Marcus in Austin, TX when they're about 20 and 21 years old, and the series will span a period of approximately twenty five years actually, so I'm very excited about that! They meet in a bar - that Joel isn't supposed to be at, because he's not of legal drinking age - when they're trying to break up a fight among their friends, which results into the two of them getting kicked out.
Joel has been working long, long days in construction for a few years in order to support himself and Tommy, as their parents died when Joel was 16/17 years old. One of the reasons why he rolled into that line of work - besides the money - is because the childhood house that they still live in needs so much work done, and the only way he could think about being able to afford that somehow is by learning how to do all the work himself because he'd never be able to afford a contractor.
His life couldn't be any more different than Marcus', who is busy with college and who tries to hide a part of his life for most people - namely that his father is the leader of the Heroics and his mother is a Heroics trainer. There is the expectation that he's going to follow in their footsteps, but his powers haven't shown up yet, so he's trying to focus on blazing his own path.
They end up becoming friends, and music plays an important role in that; the series takes place in the (early/mid) nineties, so get ready for a good amount of grunge / rock / etc. There are a lot of twists and turns in their story (apparantly Little Beast was only the beginning of a whole lot of angst/drama pouring into my fics), so I don't want to reveal too much it, but let's just say that it's a tough ass road and things don't go the way they've planned.
But! I do have enough written so far that I can show you a little snippet of a very rough outline from chapter 2:
Joel and Marcus listening to grunge music and smoking so much pot at Joel's place. Careful first kisses. Giggling about it as they’re so stoned and kind of nervous. (They only smoke pot when Tommy isn’t around/going to be home that night, also to help manage Joels aches as he tends to be sore after a long day at the construction site - that's half of the reason why Marcus brings over weed). They’re both too high to do anything that requires much coordination but Marcus starts grinding against Joel’s dick and they eventually get eachother off that way, clothes still on, sitting on the couch. There are more kisses while they're both still panting, now with a giggle in between breaths every now and then, and the weed just makes them lose track of time - and it's not all that long before Joel finds himself grinding his hips up against Marcus again. "Fuck. Fuck, I…." He can't find the words, especially not when Marcus rocks back against him, just a little slower on his refractory period. "I want…. Fuck. 'm too high. I can't…" Marcus hushing him with another kiss and Joel moans, grabbing Marcus' hips and shifting on the couch, until Marcus is on his back and Joel on top of him. Nudging his hips into Marcus until they line up, still fully dressed, and the little “oh my god” once he gets it right. "Take it, take it, take it," Marcus panting under him, holding onto Joel's broad shoulders, which makes Joel moan against him, and when Marcus' hands grab Joel's ass, something just clicks inside of Joel's brain. And despite that everything is still slow and soft, he just goes feral because he wants it - wants Marcus - so goddamn bad "Wish I was inside you," against Marcus' ear, and Marcus cries out at that, imagining it, and because it feels so good that Joel is fucking his cock against him. "I wish I…" And not all of it is coherent, it's a string of words that fall from his lips, but he kind of talks Marcus through it, what he wants to do to him, and Marcus just loses his shit because holy fuck, Joel's voice is so deep when he's been smoking like this, and nobody has ever talked to him like this while getting off, and he loves it.
Thanks again for asking, Anon!! I honestly can't wait to write more on them and to eventually share these boys with all of you.
Want to know more about fics in my WIP folder? Check out the original post!
pssst, this is me looking innocent and tagging y'all for no reason whatsoever except for that you might be interested to see this WIP that's in the making 😇😘 thank you all so much for the support you gave to GP! @oliveksmoked @ohforficsake @wannab-urs @baronessvonglitter @angiewatson
@iknowisoundcrazyreads @gruaig-rua @thebeldroramscal @milla-frenchy @reallyrallyauthor
@jessthebaker @littleredpandanaps @bitchesuntitled @avastrasposts @almostempty
@almostfoxglove @rebel-held @magpiepills @legendary-pink-dot @mysterious-moonstruck-musings
@din-cognito @penvisions @alltheglitterandtheroar
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Lee Heeseung as your boyfriend:
"I'm tamed, I belong to you, I'm happier
My own version of 'I love you'
'I wanna belong to you' ".
Disclaimer: a bit suggestive, in general just Heeseung being a tease.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/248a39935b5e1c43e6e6b35210323f26/bb3ed8f341cec9cb-ac/s540x810/4b5e5365759904aa99099ce8900ac439c23b1239.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/84626fae33652d1e6462701bcdeef49b/bb3ed8f341cec9cb-ca/s500x750/ffdc5cc42fb465e2c13cb2af6d5a7ae6e9f2f8d8.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5a8c34a6ab8544df1f6f37687da1c368/bb3ed8f341cec9cb-a0/s540x810/41632d46383238a28590bb31c146e4eb888380a2.jpg)
- Writes love songs about you:
• Since the moment Heeseung laid his eyes on you, you've become his inspiring muse.
• From a song about a mysterious girl he can't stop thinking about, to a song about a girl who is his entire future.
• Every time the two of you share a meaningful moment (and there are many), he can’t help but sit at his desk later and write a few lines about it.
- Late night snack time:
• Since Hee’s schedule always lasts until late at the night, he usually stays up late. And you keep him company, which means late night snacks.
• Everyone knows about his love for ramen, and you have to admit he influenced you too. The two of you watch your favorite TV show while eating the special ramen he makes for you.
- Makes everyday feel like the first time:
• If it depends on Heeseung, your relationship will never get old— this man is the personification of rizz.
• He flirts with you every day, buys you unexpected gifts, takes you to romantic dinners, and plans new dates regularly.
• "Watch me, Yn. I’ll make the honeymoon phase last forever”.
- Selfish:
• Selfish and jealous.
• He doesn’t like to share you with other men, even though he doesn’t forbid you from doing anything.
• But every time a guy stares at you too much or a male friend gets a little too comfortable around you, he gives you a mindblowing, breathtaking kiss on the lips in front of them, letting them know who you belong to.
- Hides skin because he's also all yours:
• Of course he’s Engene’s man, but at the end of the day, he’s your man.
• And since you’re so understanding and supportive of his career, his full schedules and long tours, he makes sure to return the favor by keeping his skin hidden, saving it just for you.
• You’re so grateful that you repays the gesture by showing a little more skin when you’re home together.
- Lets you sit on his lap while he plays video games:
• Even if you enjoy playing games, sometimes you just want to sit on the couch and cuddle with your boyfriend.
• But he loves gaming and you don’t want to keep him from it. So, Hee found the perfect solution: he pulls you onto his lap— whether you're straddling him, sitting sideways, or leaning back against his chest— and holds you close while he easily beats someone else’s ass in the game.
• You even lazily cheer for him while resting in his arms.
- Matching pajamas:
• It might sound cheesy, but what’s more attractive than Lee Heeseung wearing Hello Kitty pants?
• He first bought them for you as a joke on your 1st anniversary, but you loved it so much that since then, buying matching pjs has become your thing.
• It’s like you two become one when you cuddle in bed at night.
- Texts you even with a busy schedule:
• No man is too busy to text you in the middle of the day and Lee Heeseung is living proof of this.
• He might have a busy idol schedule, but that doesn’t stop him from quickly grabbing his phone between practices to check on you.
• He’ll ask how you’re doing, if you’ve eaten, tell you he misses you, and that he can’t wait to get home. Sometimes, he might even send something a little naughty— if he’s missing you in that way, you know.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓂃⠀⠀˖
Jay version
Ni-ki version
Sunghoon version
#enhypen#enhypen imagine#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fluff#lee heeseung#heeseung fluff#heeseung fanfic#heeseung imagine#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#heeseung x reader#heeseung x you
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The Great Wave - Chapter 14 Review
‼️SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER‼️
This chapter felt shorter than the other ones in this second volume so far.
But that doesn't matter.
CUZ GUYS WE FINALLY SEE DATHURA AGAIN ‼️❤️‼️❤️‼️❤️‼️❤️‼️❤️‼️‼️❤️
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When the chapter covers were only available, I originally thought that she ended up being the guardian of the Tree of Life but it looks like she just settled somewhere vacant in the Sadida Kingdom.
I don't mind cuz as long as she's there, I'm happy hehe 💗💗 She's such a beauty omg
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Dathura saying that she's been called once again by Amalia makes me assume that Dathura asked for her help once before but we know it couldn't have been in Season 4 because she was only seen protecting the Tree of Life as it's last defense.
So the first time Amalia has asked for help must've been in Season 5 when Harebourg will be seen as the antagonist. I'm only making assumptions here but it could be true. In a way, it makes sense because Dathura technically does have a connection to Harebourg since she used to be a past member of the Brotherhood of the Frogotten just like him. So maybe she could have helped Amalia by trying to talk to Harebourg or maybe explain to Amalia what may be going when he'll become a problem for her kingdom. Because let's not forget the fact that he wanted Amalia's kingdom to have endless wood to warm up Frigost.
But anyways, Amalia asks Dathura to help her find a remedy for Yugo.
Cuz apparently the belladonna only slowed the process. It didn't actually fade away on its own because it thought it did its job.
Dathura disconnects herself from her meditation spot and guides Amalia to some hidden territory in the Sadida Kingdom.
I found it a bit odd when Amalia asked her where they were here, since she was supposed to have lived in the kingdom her entire life AND WAS ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE OF KID TO HAVE ROAMED AROUND THE PLACE AND MEMORIZE ALL OF IT BY HEART.
But then again, this entire area is ALIVE so it can do whatever the fuck it wants lol
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Dathura just flies away as if she didn't say the most hippie spiritual shit ever.
BUT LOOK AT AMALIA'S ADORABLE FACE WHEN SHE ADMIRES THE PLACE 💗💕💗💗💗💗💗
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my little queen is such a softie for nature 💖💖💖
Also let me just say how much I love the fact that Dathura is referring to Yugo as "our" king. She was so chill with Yugo in season 3 and we can tell that she's still cool with him because she accepts him as the king of the Sadida Kingdom.
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And that speaks A LOT on so many levels when you know that some sadida citizens do not accept Yugo's people but then you got a part of the Sadida God literally being cool with the king they hate. Like come on now, if you're a sadida AND an eliatrope hater, what are you doing??? You keep blabbing about how the eliatropes are being a menace and "staining" your sadida culture when one of your demigoddesses (who LITERALLY keeps a portion of your god's power, mind you) is straight up just vibing with the man you hate.
Like seriously Amalia you gotta shut them up someday or another.
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Another thing that I enjoyed was that I now know, thanks to Dathura, that there is a shortened way to say Grougalorasalar's name. It's Asalar and I don't know why but I find it so cute to say 💕💕 Like it's cool and yet adorable at the same time I don't know how else to explain it.
Amalia then explains what Grougalorasalar wanted and that he'll start attacking again if Yugo doesn't accept giving away the artifacts.
But I am SO GLAD that out of all the things Yugo refuses to give, it's the eliatrope dofus for very obvious reasons.
Like I explained back in the last chapter, Grougalorasalar wanted the Eliasphere since it doesn't belong to them and because Yugo's people have a habit of naming things after their people if they find any powerful artifacts that can support them. But in no way, shape or form does Yugo ever need to give his eliatrope dofus to him. These eliatrope dofus literally belong to the eliatropes because, again, those are the primordial eliatropes' recall points. Not to mention that they've been created by THE ELIATROPE GODDESS.
Like come on what is bro doing asking for something that belongs to them!? I agreed with him about how Yugo and his people were actual troublemakers without even trying, but taking away the dofus that respawns them?? Hell nah man, I stay away from that shit.
So Dathura picks out a plant and properly reduces it to the actual remedy before she tells Amalia to discuss this whole Grougalorasalar situation with Joris.
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After everything he's done for the world, it looks like bro still can't get away from the short height allegations from mortals and immortals alike 😭😭
Talking to Joris makes the most sense since he used to be Asalar's vessel but yay, we get to see Joris back! I can just tell that all the joris fans were happy to see him in that 15th chapter cover and now get to see him being mentioned in this chapter lol
DATHURA CALLED AMALIA A FRIEND DISLDKDLWPWPROFODOEEO 💖💗💖💗💗💖💗💖💗💖💗💖💗💖💖💗💗💖💖💗💗💖
Anyways, after suggesting Amalia to speak with Joris about all this, she warns her not to upset Grougalorasalar no matter what hers and Yugo's decision will be.
Don't worry shawty, these two morons got this in the bag 🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢
#we stand with dathura 💗💗💗#icon ✨️💕✨️💕✨️💕✨️#she's such a doll ❤️❤️#anyways amalia should alert her people that dathura's fine with yugo at this point#cuz i feel like they don't know#make yugo feel better again 💕💕#wakfu#ankama#krosmoz#wakfu the great wave#the great wave#wakfu the great wave manga#wakfu the great wave volume 2#the great wave volume 2#the great wave volume 2 manga#wakfu the great wave volume 2 manga#wakfu manga#the great wave manga#wakfu reviews#wakfu review
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“D—Don't.” On the floor, his back against the counter, Sanji's voice wavers as he stammers the warning.
The Swordsman remains where he is; leaning on the doorframe, his arms crossed on his chest. Zoro's not certain what the command means exactly. Is he not supposed to move? To touch? To speak? Whichever alternative it may be, he prefers to be safe rather than sorry.
Not wanting to trigger the already messed up Cook, he takes only one step forward, as to not block the entrance. Slowly, he crouches down, careful even of his clothes, making sure they don't cause as much as a rustle. No unnecessary noise leaves him, which doesn't seem to make things worse, at the very least.
Zoro waits. He won't pretend like he knows how to help—being supportive has never been one of his strong traits. Or, he grew accustomed of thinking so.
The Cook's still as a rock. His legs drawn to his chest, arms hugging them close. Sanji looks as if trying to hold himself together, and taking into consideration the quivers running through his body, maybe that's exactly what he's proceeding to achieve. The Swordsman feels bad for him, of course he does. Even without this strange dynamic that managed to find place between them, this is still one of his crewmates. And undeserved suffering is not something Zoro takes lightly to.
That's why he's there; to provide. Whatever the Cook may need.
Sanji's not looking at him, his face buried in his knees. Clearly, an eye contact isn't really what's currently desired. Unless the Cook is focusing enough on stimuli perceived by his other senses (which the Swordsman assumes he's not), he isn't even able to tell whether Zoro is still inside or not.
So it comes as no surprise when the next words are, “Are you... still here?”
Zoro exhales. “Yeah,” he murmurs, keeping his voice soft as if to not startle Sanji. “You okay?”
Stupid question. The latter is clearly very far from alright. But then again, it’s not like the Swordsman is capable of coming up with anything else, either.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
a.k.a. i found a fragment of maybe-someday-something in my drafts.
#one piece#fanfic#story fragment#zosan fanfic#zosan#roronoa zoro x sanji#roronoa zoro#black leg sanji#sanji
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dunno if im late or nuthin but this took me a couple weeks to do cough @quartztwst for the uhhh... *flips through papers* .. no yandere au yeaahhh (i might do myself / my yuusona as well, im debating it haha)
magic level ^^^ he's pretty good in general, with his strongest being more.. phenomenon ish? (ref: this post ig) he'd probably be a rival, only due to the fact that he tolerates Azul and doesn't condone murder lol (might change? idk)
Q/A questions under cut
Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?
He lives with his parents in a pretty nice house near where his parents work (aka S.T.Y.X cough) and tends to walk with Idia to school (most likely forcibly lol)
What are their thoughts on Quartz? He finds her interesting, although a bit sceptical because he can tell somethings fishy with how she talks about Azul and acts around him. He does try to see if she's doing alright on occasion, worried if she's masking due to personal issues, issues at home, etc.
What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?
Macarius is positively neutral about Azul, admiring him for his status but also judgemental about his tactics. Since Macarius tends to help Idia a lot or just stay nearby for social support (we all need someone to speak for the introverts lol) he met Azul at the end of one of the council meetings, and again at clubs. Due to seeing Azul often at clubs, he's gotten to know him slightly better.
Your OC stumbles upon a dead body a few feet outside of the school. Do they report it? Immediately. He first of all wants justice for the victim, but he also doesn't want the enviroment nearby to smell of rot. (lol)
Why does your OC like their crush?
Growing up knowing Idia from their parents working together, he grew closer to Idia and admired him for his skill. Aside from that, Macarius slowly came to the realization that he likes boys as well, more specifically Idia. Of course he doesn't entirely know why or how, especially due to his ex-girlfriend pretty much ruining his expectations of relationships, but he's coping through it.
Since reputation and popularity are kind of different, is your OC popular in and outside of school?
He's pretty neutral standing outside of school, being known for his community garden attempts (he's probably still trying lol). In school however? He somehow became the person lots of first years come to, and has been told he's attractive (he, of course, doesn't believe these often haha)
How social is your OC? Do they stray away from crowds? Macarius doesn't exactly hate crowds, but he wouldn't choose to be in a large one (events being exceptions) since lots of people tend to overwhelm him (and Idia, who he's more worried about :P)
Which TWST character does your OC believe should have more admirers than Azul? He's actually surprised by the amount Azul has, considering Vil also has an admirer hoard, but he isn't complaining since he's happy for Azul in some way. However, Macarius is glad there isn't too many after Idia, considering it'd probably overwhelm him and he'd have to force him to leave his house haha
What are their relationships with other characters/OCs? Shin ( @liyuviq ): "Clever. I admire their persistence. Not everything is a case, however." Macarius likes to consider being their friend, however he doesn't exactly want to push anything, so he doesn't say much about it haha Shuu ( @oya-oya-okay) "Surprisngly sweet. Her hair reminds me of orange lillies." He finds her entertaining, and admires her kindness. He hasn't talked to her as much unless its in passing periods or in their shared class(es) so he makes the effort to try checking in on her from time to time just to be polite. To new / first years, some consider him to be a big brother to them, showing them their classes and helping them navigate the school until they have the hang of it. What grade/year is your OC? 3rd year (18), same as Idia. (he's only a few months older than Idia) Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this? He doesn't at first, thinking he was seeing things. After a few more times, he quietly told Riddle about it, unsure if he wanted to go as far as school officals yet. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz? Macarius would be probably very surprised and hurt, but still respectful about telling others that it wasn't him. Unless he knew more, he wouldn't have much of a hunch on Quartz without infomation.
What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life? He wants to start a school community garden, using technology to help the advancement of plants and agriculture without harming them.
Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch? Macarius is normally with Idia during passing periods or classes they share, as well as lunch. However, he occasionally tutors at lunch (which makes Idia nervous since he sits with him haha) or examines the school's yard(s) in an attempt to plan out a future garden somewhere.
How are your OC's grades? Almost always A's or B's, with the occasional C if he's confused on a subject. (such as English)
Which elimination tactic is preferred to use on them? *shrug* What are your OC's weaknesses? Are they easily manipulated? Easily overpowered by? He's only easily manipulated if he's close to them, especially relationship wise (i.e. his exgf) which is why he tries to keep some people at arms length. For weaknesses, he's pretty neutral on most unless its about Idia (cough very protective cough) or needles (he doesn't enjoy them haha)
Any drama, traumatic story for your OC in the AU? i mean, eh? you can check his lore page if you wanna take that and mush it with this I dunno
#skye rants#skyes art#twst#twst wonderland#twst oc#twisted wonderland#disney twst#no yandere sim au#twst au#twisted wonderland au#fan au#macarius grieves#ignihyde oc
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I'm thinking about Rook De Riva and Viago again and just rambling about my thoughts, which might change when it's not 3am:
For my Rook, I think the reason he never met Lucanis, Illario, or Caterina before Veilguard, or even apparently saw them from a distance considering he didn't recognize them at all, was partly because of Viago and Viago's past with the King.
Basically, Viago got forced to choose between being a Crow or being exiled because of his position as a bastard child. He didn't have a choice in it, which in my opinion leads to him having issues with the whole idea of power and who holds it and all that ("The Crows rule Antiva" do you mean the Crows, or do you mean you, Viago?) And that makes me think of two things.
1) Viago hating the idea of the higher-up Talons having too much control over him or pulling rank. What's one way to give them less of an opportunity to let them do that? Keep them from ever really seeing his best Crows. And personally, I think it's implied that Rook is one of his best. The way he talks in the Blighted Treviso scene, where he goes "you always think of something!" and acts like Rook literally just being there could've changed anything alone makes me think he relies on Rook a decent amount. Plus him trusting Jacobus to Rook, "you're a damn fine Crow," etc. So I can totally see him tucking Rook away from the higher-ranked Crows as an "out of sight, out of mind" tactic to keep them from using Rook in any way. (I know Teia and Viago don't pull rank with each other, but I can't remember if they said that was all the Talons or just themselves, and I don't believe that none of them do)
And
2) Viago seems to actually care about Rook. Teia says it, Viago seems to imply it, etc. and in my headcanon, it's definitely true. So, similarly to the first point, I think Viago would be hesitant to let anyone he cares about be in a place where they could be subject to a display of power from someone higher up in the Crows. He had to deal with being banished or given to the Crows by his father, and I just don't think he'd tolerate the idea of a similar treatment towards people he cares about. Teia is relatively safe because she's incredibly capable herself and has Caterina's support, but Rook when they were just starting out? Viago couldn't have been sure that they would win over anyone important enough to give them that sort of immunity. So to me, it feels like the easier method would be to just keep Rook out of the way. If Rook is never really noticed by the higher crows, they could never be deliberately singled out. Not only would that protect Rook, but I think it would also satisfy the paranoid, overly cautious part of Viago that's constantly waiting for another adder in the wardrobe situation.
(also, 3, Imo Viago would love to have a secret ace in the hole trick up his sleeve in the form of a personally trained, very skilled assassin who none of the other big-name Crows have necessarily noticed. Especially if Teia helped train them too, on top of Viago and an Heir. Two, if not three, incredibly talented teachers making a top tier assassin? It'd be his dream come true if they'd just start listening to his fucking orders.)
So, with those two (3ish) reasons, I think Viago purposefully keeping Rook away from the Dellamortes makes a lot of sense. I can absolutely see it where Viago just sent Rook away whenever there was some important meeting or he knew Illario would be around the Diamond or that Lucanis would be at the cafe. He might've even warned Rook that he wanted them to stay away from the Dellamortes because he didn't trust them not to fuck up in front of them, meanwhile he was really calculating about how best to keep Rook from being noticed until they were at a point where he would feel like they were ready.
And then Rook went and pissed off everyone with the Antaam stunt, all at once, and Viago had to send Rook away, making him use his power to make choices for Rook in the exact way that he'd been plotting so carefully to avoid anybody else doing to them.
#and in the case of my Rook he eventually came home specifically to seek out the Dellamortes#AND then came home later with Lucanis on his arm.#if I got any of these facts wrong blame it on the chronic pain flare up and the previously mentioned 3am'ness#datv#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age rook#rook de riva#rook cassian de riva#viago de riva
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Okay, now we need a whole cinematic universe based on the Age Gap fics.
We need a Jack fic where he meets a girl and instead of the meaningless hookup he’d planned he has the most meaningful heart to heart with her (crazy stupid love style) and suddenly can’t even fathom hookup culture. He is a committed man, he just won’t admit it, (and maybe he refuses to do anything hookup-ish with her, it’s gotta mean something)
We need a Quinn fic (with a Latina woman) in which he decides “fuck it, I guess I’ll just try a hookup, no emotional attachment” cause he needs to decompress, but she seems to show up at the most convenient times for him post hookup (like serendipity telling him he needs to loosen up more, have another hookup) even though she denies him any sort of contact details so it can remain casual.
Sorry, that’s a big ask lol
Aww, I’m so thrilled you loved the story!!! 💕 You seriously read my mind with that request! I’m super excited to share that I’ve already started working on the Jack/Quinn sequels! I’ve got tons of ideas, and the Jack fic is already 12 pages long—just from getting started! 😄 I can't wait to share both of them with you!
But while I’m finishing them up, here’s a little sneak peek from the Jack part:
---
Anja couldn’t stop herself from laughing despite how much she wanted to keep her composure. “This is the worst pitch I’ve ever heard in my life, Jack. Put your shirt down already.”
But Jack held strong, his grip steady, not giving an inch. "You know you want to. I’m practically giving you the world here. I can be your support, your personal cheerleader. You’ll be the brains of the relationship, and I’ll—"
"—Be the ‘muscles,’ right?" Anja interrupted, raising an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk.
"Exactly! I’ll be your biggest supporter, always backing you up. And hey, I’ll even throw in the fact that I’m probably the best at making people laugh."
Anja stared at him—this insufferably stubborn, over-the-top guy—and, despite herself, couldn’t help but laugh again. “Jack, you’re a complete disaster. But fine,” she sighed, shaking her head, “I’ll give it to you—you’ve got muscles... and, I guess that counts for something?”
#quinn hughes#jack hughes#jack hughes fic#quinn hughes fic#qh43#jh86#nhl fanfic#Jack is going to be a menace
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hello my old heart
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a/n: wally clark has invaded my brain space and i cannot seem to rid him from my mind his himbo charms have seduced me. just in my mind this is set in the late '90s, but mr. martin isn't evil. none of the other kids are really mentioned by name, but this would be a few years after charley's death. as always i'm writing with a plus sized!reader in mind but anyone can read it.
summary: struggling with becoming comfortable in death, wally has made himself your new buddy.
cw: general angst and sadness over being dead, wally is a sweetheart who just wants to help. hurt/comfort with a sweet ending and a little bit of kissing. gn!reader, theatre kid x jock
wc: 2.1k
You think you’ve been dead for a little over a week. It’s hard to tell - time moves so differently here. It feels like static on the skin, the way the TV screen feels fuzzy when you touch it after it's been turned off. You haven’t spoken much, and the other dead kids don’t expect you to for a while. They’ve all told you that everyone reacts differently to their death, that there’s no right or wrong way to cope.
You’re worried that if you open your mouth, it’ll be difficult to stop crying. Or screaming, or both. So you sit quietly in the circle in the gymnasium, listening as Mr. Martin leads the support group meeting. You’re appreciative of his trying to get you to open up, but you’re only capable of responding in nods and shrugs. When it’s over, you go to make your way back to the auditorium. It might be weird to some, considering you died there, but it’s still the place you feel the safest.
A few steps out of the gym, you hear pounding footsteps coming up next to you. It’s Wally, because of course it is. He’s dubbed himself your ‘Unofficial death guide.’ He’s the sweetest, and you wish you could actively participate in conversation with him.
“You goin’ back to the auditorium?” When he talks, you have to crane your head to the right and all the way up because he’s so fucking tall. You nod, and he parrots it.
“I don’t know how you can go back to that place. I couldn’t even look at the football field for like a week after I died.” Even when you don’t respond, Wally keeps going. “I also don’t know how you stand sharing a space with Mina. She's, like, totally scary.” He makes a face then, pinched up, like he’s imagining being trapped in a room with the other, objectively more aggressive theatre ghost.
It makes you giggle. Like, audibly giggle. Wally’s eyes widen, surprised that he was able to get a noise out of you. He laughs in return, a breathless exhale. He’s clearly proud of himself.
“I have got to get you to do that again.” You shake your head no, even though the smile hasn’t left your face. “I’m serious, I have got to hear that laugh again!”
When you round the corner near the front office, you stop in your tracks, the smile on your face quickly fading. Your mom and dad are there, holding a box with everything that was in your locker. It’s a weird feeling. You hadn’t forgotten you were dead, obviously, but everything had felt very up in the air.
Like the moment before a show starts - everyone sitting in the audience, the curtain still down to block the view of actors taking their places. Like limbo. Seeing your parents, their tear stricken faces, that makes it feel real. Too real. The sharp breath you take in alerts Wally to the fact that something is wrong, and he follows your gaze to the two adults standing at the front desk.
“Oh shit, are those your parents?” Wally asks, his voice taking a softer tone. He has a volume control problem, everyone knows it, and you’re appreciative that he’s quieted down for this.
You nod, a small jerk of your head. He brings a tentative hand up to your shoulder, and when you don’t move away, he places it more firmly. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I really am. Do you wanna go up and see them?”
You don’t answer, you just walk away. Wally calls after you, but doesn’t follow.
The auditorium truly is your safe space. You were never brave enough to actually perform anything, though your teacher had begged you to. She’d heard you singing to yourself one day, and asked why you’d never auditioned for anything. You’d just deflected and said the stage fright would make you freeze. She’d been understanding, but encouraged you to think about auditioning for the show this year.
You were a senior, it’d been your last opportunity to be in the spotlight, but by the time auditions came around you’d chickened out. The hidden disappointment on your teacher’s face wasn’t so hidden, but she made sure you had your usual spot on the tech and run crew portion of the show.
You died a few weeks later, tripping off of the stage while setting up a set piece and breaking your neck falling into the orchestra pit. Like a sick fucking joke.
Now, you sit in the audience, gazing at the stage. It’s still blocked off by crime tape. The show for the end of the year has been effectively cancelled on account of your dying. ‘Postponed indefinitely’ is the term the overhead announcements had used, but you all knew what that actually meant. It just wasn’t gonna happen.
You mostly just feel numb. Obviously your death isn’t something you could ever prepare for, and just like every other ghost in the building, your life had been unfairly cut short. Just like everyone else, you’d had plans for the rest of your life. None of them solid or reliable, but you’d had some idea of what you wanted your life to look like. A well paying job that you genuinely enjoyed, maybe a husband or wife and a few kids. All of that is gone now.
Your parents in the front office felt like a kick to the gut, salt in the wound. The look on your mom’s face, the way your dad was cradling the box of your things like if he held tight to it enough it would bring you back.. it was too much to bear.
And Wally, sweet, kind, Wally. He’s been trying really hard with you, and you can’t even work up the nerve to say something to him. To thank him for being there for you, or answer any of the many questions or jokes he throws your way.
You don’t even realize the tears are streaming down your face until they drip onto your hands in your lap. Once you feel the first one, the rest fall in quick succession and before you know it, you’re audibly sobbing in the empty theatre. It’s almost embarrassing, the way your cries echo because of the acoustics.
Wally comes in quietly, and sits down next to you. You’ve been too preoccupied to notice anything other than your tears, heavy and streaking down your cheeks. He doesn’t say anything, just wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. He’s warm, and when you grab the front of his sweatshirt, he holds you tighter.
It takes a while for you to calm down - you’d been holding everything in for too long - you were bound to bubble over and explode at some point. When you feel yourself come back to your body, Wally is still holding you. He’s stroking your head and whispering comforts to you. You don’t deserve him, you think.
He’s still rubbing your back when you pull away to look at him, but you’re distracted by the wet spot on his sweatshirt - the light grey darkened by your tears.
“Oh,” you whisper, your voice cracking from how long it’s been since you’ve spoken, “I’m sorry.”
Wally’s eyes widen, not prepared for you to start talking, and he jumps to console you. “Woah, hey, don’t even worry about it. This ratty old thing? I’ve been wearing it for like, almost twenty years.” He giggles a bit, continuing, “I honestly think this is the closest this thing has been to a washing machine even longer than that, so. No sweat, promise.”
You nod, thanking him.
“Are you, like…” he trails off, not sure how to ask you if you’re okay. It’s a silly question, he knows that. “I remember the first time I saw my parents after I died. There was a vigil on the football field like a week after it happened. Everyone was there, and they were all crying and it was so weird. I didn’t feel dead yet, like I hadn’t accepted that it really happened.”
“That must’ve been really hard for you, Wally. I’m really sorry.” Your eyes meet, and he shrugs.
He smiles, a sad, nostalgic thing. He can’t tell you it’s okay, because it’s not. Instead, he goes to hold your hand. “I promise it will get better. It just takes some time. It’s gonna suck for a while, but we’re all here for you. I’m here for you.” His thumb rubs circles on the top or your hand, and you smile up at him.
“Thanks, Wally. I really appreciate it.” Your interconnected hands are grounding you. It’s the first time you’ve felt a semblance of peace since you died. “Do you mind if we sit here for a little bit? It’s quiet, I don’t want to leave yet.” He nods, and the two of you just sit there.
Just like Wally said it would, it gets easier.
You start going to more of the meetings with Mr. Martin, and you actually start participating. It was weird at first - you thought people would make a big deal out of your finding your voice again, but they just smiled, proud of your growth. Wally has been your biggest cheerleader, but they’re all really supportive. Even Rhonda, though she still sports her gloomy demeanor.
When they fix up the stage and clear the crime scene tape, the school holds your vigil there. Wally is right there with you in the audience, holding your hand while your parents speak. Your theatre teacher speaks too, and talks highly of you. Your brightness, the passion you had for theatre. When she says you had a beautiful voice, that you could’ve been somebody, she directs it at your parents. They agree, it seems.
There are still days where it's really hard. You retreat back into your shell, refusing to leave the auditorium or speak to anyone. Wally's patience with you is endless, and when you allow him to stay with you, he spends all day cracking jokes to help you feel better.
One day, instead of letting you isolate yourself, he drags you out onto the football field to get some sun. "We don't really need vitamin D anymore, but I really think it'll help. C'mon, the sun on your skin? Wind in your hair? Can't beat that, babe." He leads you out onto the field - one hand clasped in yours and the other holding a backpack.
The pet names are a new thing, but you don't mind it. He'd slipped one day, called you sweetheart, and immediately backtracked and apologized profusely. All you could do was laugh and call him cute.
"Where did you even get that?" you giggle, following him to a spot under a tree near the edge of the field. "Did you steal that from someone?"
He drops your hand to bring it to his own chest, offended at your assumption. "Me? Steal? I can't believe you'd think so lowly of me," he plops onto the grass, patting the spot next to him, "Yeah I totally stole it, emptied it out, and then filled it with a shit ton of snacks and drinks so we could have a picnic out here." He unzips the bag, pulling out at least ten different bags of chips and candy bars.
"This is really sweet, Wally," you can feel your face heat up, though hopefully it'll just look like it's because of the heat. "It's like a date, almost." His head shoots up to look at you, pink dusting his cheeks and ears.
"Y-yeah, if you want it to be. If you think you're ready for that kind of thing." He stutters, a nervous boyish thing. He's the sweetest person ever.
“I am, I think,” you nod while you’re talking, like you’ve made up your mind, “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” Wally ducks his head down, chin meeting his chest. He’s fully blushing now - it’s the cutest thing you’ve seen in a long time.
“C’mere,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and maneuvering your body so your back is pressed up against his chest, head resting in the space between his head and shoulder, “is this okay?”
You turn your head to try and look at him, and he angles his towards you. His face is inches from yours, and if you had a heartbeat, it’d be beating wildly right now. You can almost feel it, the pitter patter of it in your chest. Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek, rubbing your thumb over the space under his eye. You nod, and move in to kiss him.
His lips are so soft, and the way they move in conjunction with yours provides much needed relief. You stay like that for a few minutes, and when you’re done, he rests his forehead against yours. Eyes closed, feeling the gentle breeze sweeping up the hill you’re sitting on. You never had anything like this when you were still alive, the easy conversation and back and forth banter. He’s your new safe space. You don’t have to worry about anything when you’re with him.
“This is perfect.”
a/n: wally clark is actually so special to me and when i think about him for too long i get very emotional. my shayla. i wrote this in the span of like a day and a half so if there are any mistakes i'm sorry LMAO
if you liked this story, please like and reblog!! it'd mean the world to me, even if you just drop a silly comment. i want to write more for wally because he desperately needs more stories on here.
#wally clark#wally clark x reader#school spirits#wally clark imagine#i love that golden retriever man so much
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I wanted to know how The Outsiders would feel if they brought the reader to Build-A-Bear might have to be like maybe a modern-day Outsiders or, like the reader asked, to go☺️
𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝-𝐚-𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ad1bef920c2f3ecca1de9dc0842cd253/53f2f0b21e2d1325-fb/s540x810/0260e87fd74d50621bfa34eba84ec592cad006b0.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3934e950991f39e1240bd4b15e86225a/53f2f0b21e2d1325-d0/s540x810/83f53da2e694b56c2fceef988cb6765ef00d38d7.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bdd666dc27d819a432e4a82ea7e504f3/53f2f0b21e2d1325-94/s540x810/e4d3d866381e17ba825d7663bb45ce2294212869.jpg)
a/n: this was so cute omggg. also just a heads up my masterlist is too long to add anything so i will need to make a new one eventually!! i will get round to it i swear
Darry Curtis:
Darry would be pretty confused when you first ask if he can take you; he’d always assumed Build-A-Bear was something for kids and that you were far too old to be going. But when he sees how excited you are, he can’t really say no. He’s mainly there to keep an eye on you and to make sure you don't spend too much money. He might make little comments on outfits, and if you insist, he might just get matching bears with you so that yours doesn't get lonely. Despite not having the money, he’ll still pay for everything, telling you not to worry about it and to consider it a date.
Sodapop Curtis:
Soda is totally down to go to Build-A-Bear with you and is probably just as excited to go. He’ll be bouncing off the walls, helping you pick out everything and treating it like it’s a much bigger deal than it actually is. When it comes down to that silly ritual they make you do with the hearts, he’s encouraging you to do it with him so that the bear has just as much love from both of you. It pretty much becomes your guys’ child, and he will get a bear for himself so that it can match outfits with yours.
Ponyboy Curtis:
Pony is pretty embarrassed about going at first, but he doesn’t turn down the offer of going. He’ll act all sheepish when you drag him inside, but the second he sees everything and just how bright it is, he relaxes and is thrilled to be there. He’s the sort to spend forever picking out the perfect bear and overthinking every single option. If there's a tiny loose thread, he’ll put it back. You need to have the best one there. He’s also a sucker for the little scents they do as well as the audio recordings.
Johnny Cade:
He’s a little unsure at first, but he’ll agree to go nonetheless and actually adores it. He loves how excited you get the second you walk in, and he can honestly understand why. He’ll help you pick out the softest bear you can find (I'm picturing that little stuffed black dog) and is thrilled to help you pick out outfits. He doesn’t smile the whole time; it probably unlocks some sort of childish feelings in him because he never got to experience anything like it as a kid. Lets you pick the same and is happy with anything, but he’ll hold on to it forever.
Dallas Winston:
Dallas is so against going at first because he thinks it’s childish and dumb and a massive bruise on his tough ego. When you eventually drag him along anyway, he’ll grumble and complain the whole time about how “damn expensive everything is”, but he will still help you pick out a bear if you ask. He’ll just sort of follow you around, offering half-hearted support and teasing you when you have to do the heat ceremony thing. If you want help picking outfits, the only thing he’s concerned about is the price of it. Don't ask him for name suggestions unless you want something utterly ridiculous.
Steve Randle:
Steve is surprisingly way too excited about making a bear with you and makes it such a big deal. He’ll pick out cool outfits that are either sports or somehow car-related, helping you dress the bear and parading it around like a trophy. He’ll tease you for all your choices but thinks its cute and will insist on getting one of the little scented things. He’s all for going all out, but if you try to buy the bear an entire wardrobe, he’ll have to stop you and remind you that he’s the one paying for everything. He’ll give you ridiculous name suggestions and will treat the bear like his child.
Two-Bit Mathews:
He thrives in Build-A-Bear; it’s like taking a small child along. Everything excites him, and he’ll be all over helping you pick out a bear. He’ll consider every single option, and when you finally settle on one, he acts like he’s just completed a serious mission. Chooses mismatched outfits and ones that he considers “tuff”. Will probably get the bear sunglasses and a leather jacket too. He’s obsessed with the sound boxes, and you know for a fact he’s recording some stupid, secret message to hide in your bear.
#the outsiders x reader#darry curtis imagine#darry curtis headcanons#darry curtis x reader#darrel curtis x reader#dallas winston x reader#dally winston x reader#dallas winston imagine#steve randle x reader#johnny cade x reader#sodapop curtis x reader#soda curtis x reader#sodapop x reader#ponyboy x reader#ponyboy curtis x reader#pony curtis x reader#two bit matthews x reader#two bit x reader#two bit mathews x reader
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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.
The feeling of Dean’s warm, big hand around hers brought a sense of security she hadn’t felt in a while. Even if she didn’t know he was Sam’s brother, Dean would be a person she would trust immediately. He just had that aura.
"Only good things, I hope", Dean joked, winking at her. He deliberately let his fingers linger a little, the softness of her skin drawing him in.
"Oh, yeah! You’re the best brother ever, apparently", she shot back, earning a grin from him.
"He's right about that", was Dean’s reply, and it made Maisie laugh. She didn’t think she’d ever met someone as handsome as Sam’s brother. He looked like he came directly from the pages of a magazine, a Hollywood movie or something. In his jeans and a worn-out oversized leather jacket, he was simply stunning. She couldn’t help but avert his piercing gaze, feeling suddenly shy with the intensity of it.
"So, Maisie, where's Eric?", Sam asked. Not that he cared about the guy; he was just asking because he knew Eric from before. It would be weird not to ask.
"Oh, he- uh, he had a work thing, so-", she tried to explain, tugging an invisible strand of hair behind her ear, nervously.
"He didn’t come", Sam finished, incredulous. Even though he was already familiar with the way Eric seemed to undervalue the important moments of Maisie’s life, he couldn’t help but hope the guy had finally changed.
Her eyes became teary, and Dean hated seeing her like this.
Noticing Dean’s gaze, she recomposed herself, chuckling humorlessly. "Yeah, you guessed it right. But it doesn’t matter, I’ve already dealt with that”. Without giving any more details, she clapped her hands together and looked from one brother to another, shoving the resentment over Eric’s actions down. “So, you guys want some beer?", she pointed over her shoulder to the inside of the house.
"I'm fine for now, thanks. I'm gonna go say hi to the rest of the gang", answered Sam, looking over his shoulder to the corner of the house, where he could see some of his old classmates among Maisie's guests hanging out in the backyard.
"I'll take that beer", said Dean. Not only he never said no to a beer before, but he also hoped to spend some time with her. For some reason, he took an immediate liking to Maisie. She seemed very nice. And she was pretty.
"Great! Come with me", she said, turning and gesturing for him to follow.
Once inside, Dean noticed right away that the outside of the house gave a perfectly good idea of how the inside looked. The place was cozy, small and neat. He didn’t remember ever being in a typical countryside home, but he was pretty sure it would look somewhat like Maisie’s home, maybe a little bigger.
He looked around while she opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles, opening them, giving one to Dean and leaning against the kitchen counter. When she led the bottle to her lips, Dean noticed that her right hand was bandaged.
"What happened to your hand, if you don't mind me asking?", he questioned, taking a sip of the cold beverage.
"Oh, I hurt it while I was hanging the lights. The ones at the entrance. Eric was supposed to help me but, as you know, he didn’t show up, so…", she left the sentence incomplete, shrugging as if it was nothing, but Dean could tell she was upset about it.
"It seems like your boyfriend is not very… present", he commented, trying to take it easy on his disapproving tone, but failing to do it.
"Yeah, you can say that", Maisie replied, her voice barely audible.
“Sorry about that”, Dean said and approached her, gently holding her hand and looking at the bandage, just to make sure she dressed the wound properly.
The girl felt her heart racing. She knew Dean and Sam got hurt a lot. Their job was scary and dangerous, so Dean was probably just seeing if she had taken good care of the wound. But that was exactly what made her heart skip a couple of beats. I mean, how sweet is it that he barely knows me and is being so nice already?, she thought.
Maisie felt an urge to get closer to him, to open her heart and let him in. The last time she did that was with Eric, and it hasn’t worked well. But, somehow, she knew Dean was different.
“I wish that was the worst thing he’d done”, she said, more to herself than to Dean.
“Sorry?”, Dean raised his head, still holding her hand.
“E- Eric, I mean. He also didn’t come to my parents’ funeral’, she explained, knowing it was too late to ask Dean to let it go. Might as well finish what I’ve started.
"Wow. I'm sorry, but that's fucked up, Maisie". A mixture of anger and pity, that was what Dean was feeling. Maisie was a good person, based on what Sam said. And even if she weren’t, what kind of boyfriend doesn't go to his girlfriend's parents' funeral?
"I'm sorry, Dean. I- I don't know why I said that out loud", she took her injured hand away from his and placed the tips of her fingers on her temples, rubbing lightly. She didn’t want his pity. She wasn’t sure of why she shared that particular story with him, but she was regretting it now.
"No, it's fine. It's not okay that he wasn't there. Or that he ain't here", he added, standing by her side and leaning against the counter too.
"Yeah. But it’s ok. Thanks for saying that, though. Should we go outside?", she asked and forced a smile, deciding it was best to enjoy the night and forget about things that weren’t as good as she wanted.
Dean shrugged. "I wouldn't mind staying here talking to you for a bit more, but yeah, let's go".
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Another thing Dean would never forget was how easy and fun that night was.
Most of it was because of Maisie. She was such a good hostess, always making sure people were comfortable, well fed and with their cups full.
Her guests involved some friends and former colleagues, along with two cousins; no more than a dozen people. Everyone was nice and friendly, and Dean could tell Sam was enjoying being amongst people he knew outside the hunting world. For a moment, his mind wandered: how would life be if they were normal, 20-something dudes? Would they go to a lot of parties? Would Sam and Jess be married by now?
Despite the wandering thoughts, Dean was having fun too. Maisie included him in every conversation. He was the outsider, after all. She sat by his side and touched his hand and arm often, not letting him close himself off or feel intimidated by the group of Stanford’s nerds, as she was calling her friends, which made Dean chuckle.
As the night went on, Dean felt more and more drawn to her. Hell, he knew getting involved with someone who was in what it seemed like a complicated relationship was the fastest way to walk right into a huge problem. But he couldn’t care less this time. He wanted Maisie, and he had a feeling she might want him too.
So Dean flirted with her a few times, trying not to be too obvious. He didn’t want her thinking he was just trying to get laid, because he wasn’t. His first goal was to make her feel wanted and valued. He had a feeling Eric didn’t do that very often.
When the pizzas she'd ordered arrived, he got up from his seat and offered to help bringing them to the backyard.
"Thanks, Dean", she smiled at him, accepting the offer and assessing his face, trying to understand why he was being so nice.
"No worries, sweetheart".
The endearment made her blush. Maisie was finding it hard to believe Dean was real. He was too handsome for his own good. From the freckled skin to the dark blonde hair and the green eyes, he was damn perfect. Plus, he was funny and nice to everyone. She was fascinated with him.
Deciding she might as well enjoy the attention she wasn’t used to getting, she hooked her arm in his and led him to the front yard, where the delivery guy was waiting.
They grabbed the pizzas and went inside the house again. Dean waited while Maisie was looking for some paper plates.
“Ugh”, she complained, getting on her tiptoes so she could search inside a high cupboard, “I could’ve sworn those plates were somewhere in here”.
Smiling at her efforts to reach a door that was way too high for her height, Dean walked to her, extending his arm and easily retrieving the plates and handing them to Maisie.
She smiled and crossed her arms in front of her chest, which made Dean stare at her boobs for like two seconds. He couldn’t really help himself. She didn’t seem to notice, and was faking annoyance with the fact that he was so much taller than her.
“That was a little humiliating, Winchester, but thanks for the help”, she joked, taking the plates and patting his arm lightly.
He laughed. “Sure. What kind of man would I be if I saw a pretty lady in distress and had done nothing about it?”, Dean teased a little more, making her smile widen.
“What a gentleman!”, Maisie shook her head, motioning for him to follow her outside.
In the backyard, they placed the pizzas on a table at the corner and Maisie gave each guest a plate, inviting them to help themselves to the food. She and Dean grabbed a slice each and went back to sit at their previous chairs.
“Tell me, Dean”, she started, after swallowing a considerably big bite of her slice, “how are you single?”.
He stared at her with a raised eyebrow.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong”, she continued, noticing he was surprised with the sudden question. “You’re a nice, smart guy. You have a cool car - yes, I’ve seen her when you guys arrived, and Sam told me all about your Baby -,” she added when he smiled, pleased to know she noticed his most beloved possession, “and you’re obviously very good looking. And yet, you’re here, hanging out with your brother’s friend, in a party full of Law school nerds. Why aren’t you out there, at some cool bar, flirting with some tall, busty blonde?”. Maisie shook her head, honestly trying to find some explanation for why Dean was there, at her house, where he could literally be fooling around with any woman in town.
Dean chuckled, and Maisie found it cute how his ears turned red when she complimented him.
“Well, first of all, thanks. Second of all, don’t think so little of yourself. Sam told me you know what we do for a living”, he whispered the last part, getting closer to her, and his hot breath formed goosebumps on her skin. “So you also know we don’t usually go to normal parties. Fuck, who am I kidding? We never go to any party, period. That being said, it’s been fun hanging out with you and your friends. Especially with you. It’s nice to talk about normal stuff, being around normal people”, he shrugged, and she could see he was being honest. Maisie felt sorry for him. He had to face so many scary, dangerous things, and could never enjoy a break, something as simple as eating pizza and drinking beer with friends in the backyard.
“Also”, he continued talking, bringing her back from her thoughts, “I had my time with busty blondes in bars. Now I prefer to hang out with pretty girls who happen to have good taste in beer”. Dean winked at her, biting at his lower lip, gaze switching from her eyes to her lips, making Maisie feel her insides clench.
Damn, he’s hot, she thought.
“So, I guess the reason why I’m single, aside from the life I live, I mean, is that all the beautiful girls who just graduated are stuck with jerks for boyfriends”.
Maisie laughed, finding his unashamed flirtation amusing.
“I said you’re nice, smart and handsome, but I forgot the most important part: you’re funny too!”, she exclaimed, playfully punching his arm.
He smiled back, and she shook her head, looking down and becoming serious again.
“I broke up with Eric, Dean”, Maisie confessed, surprising Dean.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Earlier today, before you and Sam arrived, I texted him, because everyone else was already here, except for Eric. He texted me back ‘can’t make it, stuck at work’”, she chuckled, humorlessly. “The bastard didn’t even say he was sorry. So I paid him the same respect he paid me. I texted back, saying he shouldn’t bother showing up ever again, that I didn’t wanna see his face and it was all over between us. He never answered”, Maisie finished, taking a deep breath.
“I’m sorry it had to be like this, Maisie. But, for what’s worth, I think you did the right thing. He doesn’t deserve you”, Dean stated, green eyes staring into her dark ones, the intensity of his stare making her heart race.
“Our relationship was over way before today, to be honest. But thanks for saying that, Dean”.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart”.
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Around 11:30 P.M., people started to leave. Sam, Dean and one of Maisie’s cousins were the only ones still there.
Maisie was leaning against the table, chatting with her cousin and stealing glances at Sam and Dean. They were helping her put all the trash that was scattered around the backyard in a bag. Dean noticed she told something to the girl and pointed her chin in their direction, walking towards them a second later, towing the cousin by the girl’s hand.
“Sam”, Maisie called, making Sam get up from where he was crouched, picking up some plastic cups and dirty napkins from the floor.
“Can you do me a favor and drive Betty home? She lives on the other side of town with our aunt Theresa, who’s an old lady and can’t be alone for too long. Would you give her a ride, please, so she doesn’t have to wait for a cab?”, Maisie explained.
“Of course!”, Sam agreed immediately, looking at Dean, who was already fishing the car keys from the front pocket of his jeans. They both noticed that Maisie asked for Sam to give Betty a ride home, and not Dean, so she obviously wanted him to stay.
Sam caught the keys Dean tossed at him, and Dean watched the corners of his mouth turn up into a smirk. Sam didn’t say anything, but he knew his older brother well, and he also knew Maisie. He’d noticed their behavior the whole night and how they got along. Him driving Maisie’s cousin to the other side of town was the perfect excuse for them to be alone.
After Sam left with Betty and they were done cleaning up, Dean tied the trash bag and placed it on the side of the house. Maisie was waiting for him at the backdoor, holding some leftover pizza and the paper plates that weren’t used.
They both entered the small kitchen and Dean leaned against the counter, watching while she silently put everything back in its place.
"So", he started, getting her attention, "that was a good party".
"Thanks", Maisie replied, smiling. "I'm glad you guys came. I mean, I finally got to meet the famous Dean Winchester", she joked, that beautiful blush rising on her cheeks again.
He chuckled, lowering his head and scratching his neck. Maisie only knew Dean for a few hours and she already noticed the gesture meant he was nervous. She found it cute.
"Don't know about the famous part, but I'm glad I got to know you too", he stated while she walked to lean on the counter by his side.
"Yeah? What is it about me that made you glad to be here?", she asked, looking up at him through her thick lashes.
Dean decided to go along with her flirting. She was hot, sexy in a very particular way. She was small, with thick legs, wide hips and a round, ample ass. Her short hair made her look younger than she actually was, and the big rounded eyes added to it. All of that only added to the fact that she was sweet, kind, and funny.
“Huh, let’s see. You’re pretty impressive. I mean, you went through with college, became a lawyer, despite all the shit that happened in your life”, he pondered. “That alone is already awesome. Also ‘cause you’re obviously important to Sam. He wouldn’t come to anyone’s party. Thanks for being a good friend to my brother, by the way”. Dean took her injured hand in his, rubbing her fingers lightly with his thumb.
“You’re welcome”, she said in a low voice. “He’s a great dude”.
“Yeah, he is”, Dean agreed, the pride obvious in his tone. “Oh, how I wish all Sammy’s friends were as easy on the eyes as you are”, he shook his head and tsked, as if he was stating something very, very serious and upsetting.
That made her laugh out loud. She came closer to him, still chuckling, and raised her head to stare into his beautiful green eyes. Dean placed one hand on her cheek, thumb caressing her soft skin, while he kept the other hand on the counter, caging Maisie between his body and the furniture.
Her stare went to his lips and back to his eyes in a quick, almost imperceptible movement. She wanted to kiss him so badly. Her heart was racing, pounding against her chest.
She stood on her tiptoes to reach his face, and Dean slid his hand to the small of her back, supporting her and bringing her close to his body, when-
The sound of a loud honk startled them both, pulling them out of their lust haze.
“What the hell-?”, Maisie cursed, walking to the front door to see who was making such a loud noise that late at night.
Dean followed her to see a blue Prius parked in front of her house. The driver’s door opened widely and a guy got out of the car, stumbling.
“Eric?”, Maisie exclaimed, wide-eyed. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you not to come!”, she said while walking to him, doing her best to keep her voice down and not wake up the neighbors.
The guy came tripping on his own feet, raising his hands as a peace offering. “I know, darling, I saw your text. But I wanted to apologize. I was such a fool-”
“No, no, no”, Maisie interrupted him, raising her own hand to stop Eric mid-speech. “I won’t accept your apology this time, Eric. Just- just go home. You’re obviously drunk, I’m gonna call you a cab”, she turned her back to him, wanting to go inside the house and make the call, but he grabbed her arm, making her stop.
“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me, bitch!”, he yelled, his grip making it impossible for her to free herself of his hold.
“Let go of me!”, Maisie demanded, turning around and trying to pull her arm, but he grabbed the other one, yanking her closer.
“I won’t let you break up with me!”, he screamed, his face contorting in a mug.
Everything was happening so fast. Maisie tried to take a step back and kick Eric between his legs, but Dean was faster; her was by her side in a second, shoving Eric away and putting himself between the drunk man and Maisie.
“Get away from her, asshole!”, he threatened, pointing a finger to Eric’s face, his other hand splayed on the guy’s chest to stop him from getting to Maisie.
“And who the hell are you?”, Eric questioned, in a drunk drawl, looking from Dean to Maisie, who was rubbing her arms where he had left red marks on her fair skin.
“Doesn’t matter who I am, she asked you to leave, so leave!”, Dean pushed him again, making Eric stumble in the direction of the parked car.
“Oh, so you’re fucking her? Just ‘cause I didn’t come to her stupid party with her stupid nerd friends, she’s already spreading her legs to another dude? I always knew you were a slut!”, Eric spat on the driveway, turning around and running to his car when Dean got closer to him, ready to throw a punch.
“Let him go, Dean. He’s not worth it”, Maisie asked, placing a hand on his back, and Dean stopped.
“Jackass”, Dean said while the other man cowardly drove away, tires screeching.
Dean turned around and went to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and assessing the bruises in both her arms. “Jesus Christ, Maisie, he hurt you. Are you ok?”.
“I’m- I’m ok. God, Dean, he’s super drunk. He’s gonna kill himself in that car”, Maisie said, worried. Tears were running freely down her face.
Dean was much more worried about her than about that piece of crap. But he understood her concern, and didn’t want Maisie to be even more stressed out than she already was.
“Let’s go inside and call the police, sweetheart. We can let them know there’s a drunk dude driving around”, he offered, and she accepted, leaning into his embrace.
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Fifteen minutes later, they had talked to the police and reported Eric. Maisie refused to go to a police station and file a report on his assault. Dean argued, but she promised it was all over between them, that she wouldn’t let Eric be anywhere near her again.
“Besides, he’s probably gonna be arrested for DUI anyways”, she shrugged, not at all feeling sorry for her ex-boyfriend’s future problems with the police.
So Dean made her a cup of tea and they sat on the couch, him helping her put some ice on her bruised arms.
“You sure you’re ok?”, he asked for what had to be the tenth time.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine”, she answered, sniffing.
Dean watched her closer, just to make sure she wasn’t hiding anything.
“Hey, Maisie. Let me ask you something”, he started, and she nodded, signaling he could go ahead. “Has he ever- was he ever violent with you- before?”
She shook her head, but the fresh wave of tears in her eyes told Dean there was a “but” coming. “H-he broke a glass once, when he was really drunk, like today. We argued for the same reason: he wasn’t around when I needed him. I called him out for it, he got mad and threw a glass against the wall. But he never- put his hands on me like this before”, she explained.
Dean slid closer to her, gently catching her tears with his fingertips. “Good. I was afraid it wasn’t the first time he hurt you”.
“Yeah, no, he’s never done that before. Just, you know, didn’t show up, cheated on me and stuff like that”, she shrugged and rolled her eyes like it wasn’t a big deal.
“He cheated on you? Just when I thought he couldn’t be a bigger pile of shit”, Dean shook his head, jaw clenching.
She sighed deeply before answering. “He cheated once, that I know of. And I was stupid enough to forgive him and let him come back”.
“But- I mean, don’t get me wrong here, but… why haven’t you told him to fuck off then?”
Maisie chuckled at Dean’s question. “I guess I was so used to having him around… I mean, we started dating in my first year of college. Things were good between us, as far as I know, except for one or two things here and there. Then, my parents died and he didn’t come to their service. We had an argument that day, and it was the first time I thought about breaking up with him. My friends warned me, Sam included, but I was so scared of being alone, Dean”, she confessed, looking him in the eyes for the first time in a while. “I had just lost the two most important people in my life. I had no close family around, aside from Betty and aunt Theresa. I didn’t wanna lose Eric too, so I thought I should forgive him, make an effort on behalf of our relationship. It was stupid of me, I know”, she finished, covering her face with her hands, regretting her past decision.
“Hey, hey, no”, Dean called, reaching for her, circling her shoulders with one arm so he could give her a side hug. Maisie melted, leaning her cheek on his chest and exhaling a shaky sigh.
He kissed the top of her head, running his hand up and down her back. “You did nothing wrong. Sorry if my question made you think you did. It’s just- you’re such a great girl. I was having a hard time understanding why you were with a guy like him. But I see it now. I know it sucks to feel alone, like you have no one to be your home. I hope you know you don’t need him, Mais”.
Dean parted from her and placed his large hand on her chin, lifting her face up to look her in the eyes. “You’re beautiful, funny, smart, and you have friends all around that love you, sweetheart”, he caressed her jawline with his thumb, the rough pads of his fingers sending a shiver down her spine.
“I like when you say that”, she confessed, smiling under the tears.
Dean raised his eyebrows at her. “When I say what?”, he asked with a mischievous smirk.
“When you call me sweetheart. And ‘Mais’. Nobody ever called me that. I like the nickname. And I like hearing you say ‘sweetheart’”, she blushed furiously, to Dean’s amusement.
“Oh, good to know it makes you blush so prettily”, Dean teased, taking her hand in his and intertwining their fingers. He led their joined hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly, those green eyes never leaving her face.
Maisie’s teary eyes darkened. She wanted him so badly it was overwhelming, but it wasn’t the right moment.
“Dean, I-”
“Sorry”, he interrupted, letting go of her hand and running his fingers through his hair, spiking the soft strands even more. “I just thought- that you and I-”.
“Dean, hear me out”, she placed a finger over his plump lips, effectively shushing him. “I want this to happen, whatever this is, between you and me. I want… to get to know you. If you want to, that is. But I need to make sure it has nothing to do with Eric. With me being in need of comfort, or company, or about you protecting me from him - which I’m thankful for, by the way. I broke up with him and I’m fine with that, ready to forget all about him. Still, I need some time to gather my thoughts, to really understand how I’m feeling, what I’m feeling”, she paused there, grabbing her mug from the coffee table and taking a sip of tea. “I’m probably being so ridiculous right now, but I… I felt something for you the minute I saw you, Dean”, she gulped, scared about how he would react to her confession. If Maisie wasn’t always so rational, she would’ve probably taken things further with Dean that night. But she couldn’t do that. It wasn’t fair with either of them. Still, she knew, in her heart and mind, that she’d never met anyone who made her feel like that before.
Adorably, his ears turned red again. “Bashful” wasn’t an adjective she would use to describe Dean right away - especially because he flirted with her two minutes after they met. But she could already tell he was a complex character, and that was another thing about Sam’s older brother that drew her to him.
“I understand. I also felt something when I saw you earlier today… actually, when Sam showed me a picture of you, I was like ‘damn, she’s gorgeous’”, he revealed, grinning, and Maisie blushed with the compliment.
“Thank you, Dean. That’s very nice of you to say”, she replied, placing her hand over his on the couch. He turned his palm up and laced their fingers again.
“It’s true, though”, he shrugged, and they just sat there for a few minutes, staring at their joined hands until the sound of Dean’s phone made them jump slightly.
He got the phone from the coffee table. “Sam wants to know if he should come back to pick me up”, Dean read the text, looking up at Maisie with a questioning look.
She stared back at him with those big, doe eyes, and he immediately knew he should stay. Understandably, she wasn’t very comfortable with being alone.
“So, is it ok if I stay?”, Dean asked, making sure he got her right.
“I- I can’t ask more from you, Dean. You’ve done so much for me today-”
“No, no, no”, he interrupted, squeezing her hand in reassurance, “I’d rather stay, if that’s ok with you. I’ll feel better knowing you’re ok. I’ll tell Sam to go back to the motel and pick me up in the morning”. Dean smiled and Maisie smiled back, relieved.
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“I can sleep on the couch, you know”, Dean said for the second time, while walking behind Maisie.
“No way, I have a guest room. I mean, it’s not much, it’s just the room that used to be mine, since now I sleep in the room that was my parents’”, she explained, opening the door and entering her former bedroom.
Three walls were painted in a pale lilac, while the fourth one, behind the bed, was purple. The marks on the painting signaled that there were posters or pictures glued there, probably from Maisie’s teenage years.
It was a spacious room with a big, comfy bed. Dean couldn’t even remember the last time he slept in one of those. He was glad for the comfort, but wished the circumstances were different. He wished Maisie didn’t need to be kept safe from a piece of crap like Eric.
“You think you’re gonna be ok in here?”, she interrogated, interrupting his thoughts.
“Hell, yeah”, he said, walking to the bed. “Sweetheart, if you saw the places Sam and I usually crash… this is a freaking palace!”
Maisie chuckled. “Good. There’s some blankets in the closet and towels, if you wanna shower. I’m gonna go to bed now. My room is next door, so just knock if you need something, ok? And make yourself at home”, she said, opening her arms and approaching to give Dean a hug.
“Sleep tight, sweetheart. I’ll be fine”.
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The first time they shared a bed was forever ingrained into Dean’s brain.
Dean woke up with a knock on his door. He listened for a second, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming or imagining things.
Then he heard the knock again, followed by Maisie’s voice calling his name almost in a whisper. “Dean, can I come in?”
He sat up on the bed and told her to come in. She immediately opened the door, looking scared and pale.
“What’s wrong?”, Dean asked, patting on the bed by his side, signaling for her to sit.
“I- I had a nightmare, Dean”, she sat and he could see she was shaking. He held her cold hand, listening attentively. “He- he came for me again. I- I don’t wanna… Can I stay with you?”, she asked, looking up at him with tears in her beautiful eyes.
“Of course. Of course, sweetheart. Come here”, he said, laying on the bed and stretching his arm for her to fit by his side. She lifted the covers and laid down with her head against his chest, legs slotted close to his.
Dean engulfed her in his warmth, noticing she looked even shorter laying by his side, scared and vulnerable. He silently cursed Eric for making her feel like this.
Placing his arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, lips slightly brushing the top of her head.
“It’s gonna be ok, Maisie. I won’t let anything happen to you”.
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Dean didn’t know what woke him up the next morning. But, before even opening his eyes, he felt a warm, soft body against his. His mind filled the blanks in seconds, reminding him of everything that happened the day before, and how he ended up being someone’s big spoon.
Opening his eyes slowly, he didn’t dare to move an inch. His left arm was around Maisie’s waist, fingers laced with hers once more while she held his hand against her stomach. Somehow, both of her legs were trapped between his, slightly bended knees making her perfectly round butt fit to his front, enticingly close to his crotch.
Well, now he was very awake. Every inch of his body was fully awake. He wasn’t exactly used to waking up with a woman in his arms. It happened before, obviously, but he usually didn’t sleep, sleep with them. They would do the deed and he would leave. Or they would. So, yeah, Dean was finding it hard (pun intended) to know what to do to keep that sweet, sweet woman from thinking he was a perv.
He took his time appreciating the sensual curve of Maisie’s neck, her round, soft shoulders, and the dip of her waist, leading to her ample hips.
Behave, man. A voice in his head, that sounded remarkably like Sam’s, scolded him.
A few minutes passed and Dean remained still, listening to Maisie’s deep breaths. And then she started slowly moving, slowly waking up from what he hoped had been a restful sleep.
“Hmm”, she hummed, stretching her body and consequently pushing it closer to Dean’s.
“Morning”, he greeted, holding his breath.
“Morning”, Maisie replied in a cute, sleepy voice. “Sorry for invading your personal space”, she continued, gently trying to untangle from him.
“No need to apologize. I enjoyed it a lot”, he affirmed, smiling when she turned her neck to look at him.
“Me too. Thank you for staying, Dean”, she said, reaching to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Anytime, sweetheart”.
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The first time they kissed was totally unexpected.
They had breakfast together and Sam came to pick Dean up at around 10 AM.
Dean had promised Maisie they would come back to visit her as soon as possible, and made her promise to call and text so he would know she was ok. He also told her he planned to go to the police station and check if the cops really got to Eric.
Maisie walked him to the door when they heard the Impala’s honk.
“Ok, so I made you guys sandwiches for the trip, and some extra coffee”, she handed Dean a paper bag with the food, which he gladly accepted. “I also want to give you something else, as a thank you”.
“You don’t have to thank me, Mais-”, Dean started, but she interrupted by standing on her tiptoes and kissing on the lips, taking him by surprise. He quickly recovered, placing a hand on her cheek, deepening the kiss a little and guiding her into it, sliding his lower lip over hers and lightly sucking it.
When they separated, she was flushed. “Wow. You were the one who was supposed to win the prize, but I guess I was the lucky one”, Maisie smiled, lips tingling.
“I hope this is enough to convince you to let me come back…”, Dean said, scratching his neck.
“I cannot wait for you to come back. Now, let’s go so I can say goodbye to Sam”, she held his hand and guided him through the door in the direction of the Impala, parked on the street.
Dean was already missing her. It was hard for him to explain even to himself, but he wanted to protect Maisie, to keep her safe. At the same time, her fierceness and determination, the way she held her head up high, showing everyone she could kick their asses, Dean’s included, made him want to push her against the nearest wall and have his way with her in a not-so-sweet manner.
One thing Dean was sure of: he wanted more of that. More of her. He didn’t know when he was coming back, but he had every intention to keep his promise. He hoped his crazy life would allow him.
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38 days later
When came back, things didn’t go the way he expected.
“Hey, Sammy”.
“Yeah”.
“So, I texted Maisie yesterday and asked if we could visit her. We’re done with this job and it’s not far from her. She said yes and invited us for lunch. Is that ok with ya?” Dean questioned without taking his eyes off the road.
“Sure”, the younger Winchester replied, proceeding to look at his brother with a smirk. “So you and Maisie have been in touch since you met her, huh?”
Dean glanced at him and shrugged. “Yeah, I mean… I was there when everything with Eric The Douchebag happened, so I kept checking to make sure she’s ok. Is that a problem?”, he challenged, raising an eyebrow.
“Not at all”, Sam’s smirk got wider. “But if you like her, you can tell me, you know?”, he provoked, knowing Dean would straight away deny having feelings for the girl.
“What? I don’t like her like that!”, was Dean’s immediate answer, earning a chuckle from Sam.
“But why wouldn’t you like her? Is there something wrong with her?”, the younger brother continued, pushing Dean’s buttons and knowing he would end up telling the truth.
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with her. She’s- she’s hot, funny, smart. She has great style, and she smells so good, man, and those big-”
“Ok, ok, ok!”, Sam interrupted, immediately regretting making Dean talk. “TMI, man. Let’s just go have lunch with Maisie”.
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3 hours later
When the Impala entered Maisie’s street, the Winchesters saw the police car and the ambulance parked in front of her house. Their hunter senses immediately went on full alert.
“Oh, fuck”, cursed Dean, parking on the other side of the street and taking the fake FBI badge Sam was already handing to him.
They both got out of the car and Dean was the first one to spot Maisie sitting on the back of the ambulance, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders while a paramedic finished assessing a cut on the left side of her forehead.
“You go check on her, I’ll talk to the cops”, said Sam, and Dean nodded, walking in the direction of the injured woman.
“Maisie”, he called while approaching the vehicle, his heart racing from both worry and relief to see she didn’t look seriously hurt.
“Dean!”, she exclaimed, getting up and throwing herself in his arms. Thankfully, that was the exact moment when the paramedic finished placing the dressing on her cut, otherwise she would have knocked the poor man out of the way.
“Sweetheart, what happened?”, he asked, hugging her tight and caressing her hair.
Maisie started crying the minute Dean finished his question.
“Hey, hey, it’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here now, Sam’s here. I- We won’t let anything happen to you”, he shushed while she sobbed.
Dean took her hand and led her back to sit in the ambulance. Maisie was crying too much to speak anyways, so he looked at the paramedic, the silent question of what had happened evident on his concerned features.
“She was knocked out. Luckily, she was fast enough to dial 911 first, so they were able to get the guy on his way out. She’s gonna be fine. Just make sure she gets some rest and changes the dressing tomorrow, okay?”, the man explained, and Dean nodded and thanked him.
He didn’t need any further explanation to know who the guy who knocked her out was. Eric, for sure. Dean just knew from the way Maisie was acting, with how scared she looked. He felt rage rising inside his chest. He wanted to kill the motherfucker with his own hands. Break his teeth so he would learn how to behave like a decent person…
He kept holding Maisie in his arms and, as she started to calm down, Dean shoved his murderous thoughts down and directed his full attention to her.
“What do you wanna do, sweetheart? Do you wanna wait for the cops to finish with your house and go inside? Or do you wanna go somewhere else?”
“So- somewhere else, Dean, p-please. I don’t wanna go back in there. Not now”, she said between sobs.
Dean felt his heart breaking into a million pieces. If I get my hands on that bastard…
“Ok, let me just go tell Sam we’re going to a motel close to here, is that alright? Then you can shower and get some rest”, he questioned, looking into her brown eyes with gentleness and reassurance.
Maisie nodded and Dean placed a light kiss on her forehead. He walked to the front entrance of the girl’s house, where Sam was talking with two cops.
“Gentlemen”, he greeted. “Agent Perry, can I speak to you for a moment, please?”, he told Sam, using their fake FBI agents’ names.
The brothers walked away from the police officers, and Dean turned around to face Sam.
“I’m taking Maisie outta here, man. She doesn’t wanna stay. We’re going to that motel on the road that’s closer to here, the half-decent one. Did they tell you what the hell happened?”
“Yeah”, Sam let out a deep sigh and shook his head. “Eric broke in early in the morning, Maisie was still sleeping. He was drunk and screaming that they should get back together. She said no and told him to leave, so he started to lock all the doors and windows to stop her from escaping. The idiot was so drunk that he didn’t even realize she had her phone and was already dialing 911-”.
“That’s my girl”, Dean interrupted, proudly.
Sam chuckled. “Well, yeah, she was lucky they were fast, because when he came back to her room, he saw her putting the phone down and knocked her out with a plant vase. She passed out and the cops got him trying to escape on foot, just around the corner. He’s facing assault and breaking and entering charges. Considering he already has a record for DUI, he’s gonna be busy for a while”.
“Good. Good. Okay, so we’re leaving. Will you meet us at the motel once you’re done here?”, Dean asked, knowing Sam would take care of everything so he could be with Maisie.
“Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I’ll see if I can have a little chat with Eric at the police station and tell him to stay the fuck away from Maisie, if he manages to get out of jail anytime soon”, Sam said.
“Thanks, brother. Give him your worst”.
Looking back at Maisie and seeing that the cops were asking her some more questions, Dean took the time to go inside and get her a change of clothes. He didn’t know exactly what she would like to wear, but he grabbed a pair of sweatpants, t-shirts and underwear, putting everything inside a bag.
He noticed the broken vase on the floor of her room, where the cops were working, photographing and cataloging the crime scene. Giving a deep sigh, he did his best to control that rage again. Sam would make sure to let Eric know he better stay away. Now, Dean had to focus on taking care of Maisie. That was the most important task.
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On their way to the motel, they stopped quickly at a diner so Dean could get some burgers for lunch. Maisie kept saying she wasn’t hungry, but he would try to convince her to eat, eventually.
At the motel’s front desk, he asked for two rooms: one with two single beds for him and Sam, and another with just one bed, for Maisie.
“Okay, honey, the two singles I can provide, but the only other room available is with a queen size bed, is that ok?”, the nice old lady at the front desk asked.
“Yeah, it’s fine”, Dean answered.
He paid, got the keys, and went back to the Impala, where Maisie was waiting for him.
“All set, sweetheart. Should we go inside?”, he questioned, leaning down to look through the passenger window.
She nodded and they entered the first room, hers, together.
It was simple but apparently clean, recently renovated even. Dean was glad for it.
“Ok, Mais. I brought you some clothes, I’m gonna leave them here in case you wanna change. What do you wanna do now? Eat? Shower? Sleep? Talk to me?”, he offered, not trying to pressure her, but knowing it was good to push her into moving, doing something, instead of sinking into fear and sadness.
“I’m- I think I’m gonna take a shower first. Would you wait for me here?”, she asked, face bloated and stained with tears.
“Of course, sweetheart. I’m only leaving if you tell me to”, he winked at her, making himself comfortable on a chair at the corner of the room.
Ten minutes later, Maisie left the bathroom in an oversized t-shirt that reached the middle of her thighs. Dean couldn’t help but look at her smooth legs.
“Alright, should I leave now, or…?”, he asked, standing up and awkwardly trying to focus on her face and not on the fact that she looked so good wearing so little clothing.
“No”, said Maisie, walking up to Dean and stopping him from leaving by putting a hand on his chest. “I want you to stay with me, Dean”.
He looked at her hand splayed on his chest and then into her face, his heavy breathing revealing his uneasiness.
Maisie looked into his eyes, her own glistening with tears. “Thank you, Dean, again, for being here for me”, she said, sliding her small hand from his chest to his forearm, the delicate touch making him bite his lower lip.
“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier to stop what happened this morning, I-“
“Hey”, she stopped him again, this time taking her hand to his cheek, enjoying the feeling of his stubble against her soft fingers, “There’s no way you could’ve known what would happen”. To Dean’s surprise, Maisie took a step closer to him, still caressing his face, leaving no space between their bodies. “I need to confess, Dean, that I’ve been thinking about you all the time since we’ve first met”, she tangled her fingers through the hair on the back of Dean’s neck, standing on her tiptoes and giving him a peck on the lips. “I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to be with you”, she continued, her lips a mere inch away from him, her warm breath pumping Dean’s blood right between his legs. “How it would be to have you so close, holding me, with nothing between us”. He felt her hardened nipples through her t-shirt and his, touching his abdomen. “What about you? Have you thought about me?”, she asked.
Once again, Dean’s resolution was hanging by a thread. Maisie was making very clear what she wanted, and Dean was torn between giving in to his own desire, and the small rational part of his brain telling him she was responding to trauma in an unhealthy way. “Every fucking second, sweetheart” he answered, honestly. The shine of lust in her eyes was what broke his attempt of being a better man. He held her face between his hand and leaned down, giving her a kiss that started tame, but then turned messy and full of want when he parted her lips with the tip of his tongue, making her moan into his mouth, responding with the same intensity.
Dean maneuvered them so he could sit on the bed and have her on his lap, legs around his waist. Running a hand over the smooth skin of her thigh, he stopped when his fingers were already under her t-shirt. Maisie pushed her breasts against his chest and sighed, while his lips went from her mouth to her collarbone, nibbling and sucking. She held his head as close as possible, trying everything to prevent him from stopping. Between her legs, she felt him hardening under his jeans, and she pressed herself further onto his lap.
“Fuck, Dean”, she moaned, and it woke him up from his arousal-induced trance.
“Mais. Maisie, we need to stop”, Dean asked, pulling away from her lips and closing his eyes to try to gather some self-control.
“Why?”, she asked, trying to capture his mouth in another kiss.
“‘Cause you’re not thinking straight”, Dean said. God knows how much he wanted to keep going. She smelled so good, she looked fantastic like that, freshly showered, with nothing on but her underwear and that oversized t-shirt. But he cared too much about her to take things further at that moment. She’d just been through a terrible trauma and, as a pro at avoiding feelings and acting like nothing wrong had happened, Dean knew exactly what she was doing.
“I don’t wanna think about anything, Dean”, she tried again, holding his plaid flannel by the collar and pushing it off of his shoulders.
“Ok, you don’t have to”, he insisted, gently taking her hands off of his shirt, getting up and sliding her body down to the bed.
Maisie felt ashamed. She hugged her knees and scooched up to lean against the headboard, embarrassed and humiliated by her behavior. Dean sat back next to her and gently caressed her cheek with his knuckles.
“Hey. It’s not that I don’t want you. You could feel how much I do, right?”, he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a shy smile.
She raised her head to look at him with tears pooling in her eyes, and nodded almost imperceptibly, cheeks flushed.
“I want you so bad, sweetheart. I just don’t want you to regret this. Don’t do this to forget about what happened. Do this for you. Do you get what I’m trying to say?”, Dean asked, his other hand now placed protectively on her knee.
Maisie nodded again. “I’m- I’m sorry, Dean”, she said, and the tears started to run freely down her face.
“No, no, no, you have nothing to be sorry for”. He went closer to her, placing one arm around her shoulders. “Everything is gonna be fine, ok? Don’t worry”, he reassured, kissing the top of her head and pulling her to his chest. Maisie wrapped her arms around him, letting Dean’s warmth heal her wounds.
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It was already dark outside when Sam finally got to the motel. After their talk, Dean convinced Maisie to eat and she finally fell asleep.
Sam knocked on the door and Dean went outside to talk to him, trying to not disturb Maisie’s sleep.
“Hey, took you long enough”, Dean greeted. “How was it?”
Sam took a deep breath. He looked tired. “Well, the idiot wanted to give me an attitude, but I kept the FBI agent cover. I told him Maisie had friends in the Bureau, and if he tried something funny again I would make sure his ass would stay in jail forever. It also helped that I’m much taller than him”, he smirked, making Dean chuckle.
“Thanks, man. He actually deserves life in jail for what he put her through”, Dean stated, looking inside the room through a crack on the door.
“How is she doing?”, Sam asked, pointing to the room with his head.
“She’s… she’s ok, considering. I managed to get her to eat, but she didn’t want to talk about what happened, so I’m giving her some space. She’s asleep now. Here’s the key to the room next door. I’m gonna stay until Maisie wakes up. I don’t want her to find herself alone and think I left or something…”, Dean explained.
“Okay, yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna try and sleep a bit too. But call me if you guys need anything, ok?”, Sam assured and Dean agreed, going back inside the room.
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It was almost midnight when Maisie woke up. The first thing she did after opening her eyes was look for Dean. He was sitting in the chair at the corner of the room, soundly asleep. His head was leaning on his left shoulder in a way that would surely make his neck hurt like a son of a bitch later.
Maisie got up and went to him, gently shaking his arm.
“Dean? Wake up”.
“Huh?”, he groaned, immediately opening his eyes and sitting straight.
“Hey, didn’t wanna scare you. You should come to bed”, she said, noticing how cute he looked even groggy with sleep.
The barely-awake state didn’t stop Dean from noticing Maisie told him to come to bed and not to go to bed. But he didn’t want to assume anything.
“Well, Sam’s back, so I’m just gonna join him at the room next door”, he got up and rubbed his sleepy eyes.
Maisie averted his eyes and blushed. “I- I was hoping you would stay…”
“I can also do that”, Dean reassured, smiling at her. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to avoid her. He would definitely feel better staying and knowing he would be close in case she needed him. “I’m gonna make myself a bed next to you and-”
“No”, she held his arm, stopping him from going in the direction of the tiny closet next to the bathroom. “The bed is big enough for both of us”, she blushed deeper.
“Are you sure?”, Dean questioned.
“I’m sure, Dean. I’ll behave, I promise”, she joked, in an attempt to dismiss the lingering embarrassment.
“C’mon, I didn’t mean it like that”, Dean started. “I’m just trying to say you don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine sleeping on the floor”.
“But I’m not”, she shot back. “I’ll be fine if you sleep on the bed”. She would never feel comfortable asking him to stay and then make him sleep on the floor.
“Ok”, he said. “I’m just gonna wash my face and be back in a second then”.
Dean left the bathroom a few minutes later, holding his jeans, plaid shirt and belt on one hand. He was down to his black t-shirt and boxers in the same color. Maisie was already in bed, laying on her side, covers pulled up to her shoulders.
“Is it ok if I sleep in my underwear?”, he asked, leaving his clothes on the chair and walking to the opposite side of the bed.
“Of course”, she answered, trying to sound casual while not at all feeling like that.
Even though they had slept in the same bed at her house the first time they met, it was dark and Dean was under the covers, so she didn’t really have the chance to see him. This time though, she had a full view: strong, thick, slightly bowed legs, firm and round ass, beautiful forearms speckled with freckles, wide shoulders. Maisie felt a tug in her lower belly. If she was attracted to him before, now she was even more sure she wanted to have her way with the fine man that was Dean Winchester.
But Maisie closed her eyes and focused on falling asleep and, ideally, stay away from Dean. Maybe he was right and she did chose the wrong moment to make a move, but the feeling of rejection was still very present.
Feeling the bed dip and the covers move when Dean was laying down, she closed her eyes and was about to wish him a good night, when she felt his arm sneaking around her middle, pulling her closer. She gasped in surprise. They were close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her ear.
“Is that ok?”, Dean whispered. “I kinda like being your big spoon”.
“It’s perfect. Good night, Dean”, she answered, thinking she could get used to being wrapped in him.
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When the pair woke up the next morning, they had changed positions and were facing each other instead of spooning. Maisie’s arms were tucked to her front, against Dean’s chest, while his arm was over her hip.
Maisie was the first to open her eyes. Dean was sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly opened. A lump started to form in her throat when everything that had happened the day before came back to her memory. It seemed like ages ago, but the fear she felt when Eric broke into her house crept inside her, making her stomach drop with the thought of what could have happened if she didn’t act fast enough.
She took a deep breath and focused on Dean’s face. His perfect face. Her heart skipped a beat with the thought of kissing him. She knew she was falling in love with the guy. They literally talked every day since the day they met, and things with him just flowed easily, so uncompromising. The idea of being with someone who would be there for her was all she ever wished for.
When Dean stopped her from taking things further the day before, she understood that it looked like she wanted sex as a coping mechanism, but he was wrong. She really wanted him because of him, not because of Eric. The timing was bad, yeah, but she was sure about what she wanted. She still felt embarrassed though, especially because maybe she got it wrong and Dean didn’t want the same as she did.
As if he could hear her thinking, he started to slowly wake up. He opened his eyes a little and smiled when he saw her watching him.
“Hey”.
“Hey, you”, she replied in a whisper.
“How are you feeling?”, he asked, and Maisie held her breath when his fingers started to lightly caress her hip.
“I’m- I’m gonna be fine, I guess”.
“I know you will”, Dean reassured, and leaned forward to place a feathery kiss on the tip of her nose and a longer one on her lips. He wanted to show her he wasn’t against being intimate with her. God, no. It was actually the exact opposite. He really wanted them to be as intimate as possible. The thought had crossed his mind more times than he could count since they met. But he didn’t want their first time to have anything to do with her ex-boyfriend. He wanted to be more to her than a coping mechanism, and that thought was scaring him to death, because he had probably been a coping mechanism to multiple women. And, if he was being honest, they were his sometimes too. In his defense, he never promised any kind of commitment or long-term relationship to any of them. And that was always fine and fulfilling both for him and for the women, he made sure of that. But, with Maisie, he wanted more than one night. He wanted to keep coming back to her as much as she would allow him to.
She interrupted his thoughts by calling his name.
“What, sweetheart?”
“I’m sorry again about yesterday. I’m sorry if I crossed the line and moved too fast,-”, she started babbling, nervously looking anywhere but in his eyes, her anxious thoughts taking the best of her.
“Hey”, Dean placed his hand on her cheek softly. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do. I really wanna be with you, Mais. But I want this to be right for us, for you. I need you to be sure this, us, has nothing to do with-”
It was her turn to stop him. “I understand, Dean. But yesterday was not a response to my trauma. I did what I did because I really, really like you. And, honestly…”, her voice broke, “I just need you to show me that there’s good and kindness in this world, not just loss, and pain, and loneliness-”
Dean didn’t let her finish. He placed his large hands on her cheeks and pulled her face closer, giving her a sensual open-mouthed kiss that took her breath away. Licking and tasting her thoroughly, he draw a throaty moan out of her. Once the kiss was over, Dean’s arm went around her waist, pushing her by the lower back so their bodies would get closer, giving her small pecks on the lips. Maisie’s hand was on his shoulder, and it descended to his bicep and his back, feeling the muscles moving under the freckled skin. She threw a leg over his hip, and Dean couldn’t hold back anymore.
“You sure about this, sweetheart?”, he asked, plump lips now on the curve of her neck.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Now kiss me again", the girl demanded, rolling on her back and pulling him with her, lips already glued to his. He leaned over her, positioning himself on top and pulling her leg further up around his waist so he could fit between her thighs.
She pushed her hands under his t-shirt, running her fingers over his strong, firm body, while Dean’s lips were on her neck, his hands on her hips, slowly pulling her panties down. Maisie lifted her butt from the bed to help, and Dean threw the panties away without stopping kissing her.
“Take your shirt off, Dean”, she demanded, and he quickly obeyed. Maisie stared at him towering over her, his toned body looking godly under the dim lights of the room. “You’re so handsome”, she praised, stunned by the Winchesters genes.
Dean smirked and blushed shyly, having no time to reply once Maisie pulled him by the hem of his boxers to resume his previous position. The kissing was back on, and Dean pulled her oversized t-shirt off, leaving her fully naked.
Even though Maisie was not insecure about her body, Dean was staring at her so intently, in a way that the other guys in her life never did, as if he was memorizing her. It made her feel a little self-conscious.
"Dean? What’s wrong?", she asked, voice barely there, as if she was afraid of the answer. Maisie faced Eric’s judgement before and did her best to not be affected by it, but she wasn’t ready to hear any snark comments about her appearance at this vulnerable moment.
Dean’s chest was heaving and his eyes were taking in the woman laid down in front of him. Wetting his lower lip with the tip of his tongue and shaking his head lightly, he ran a hand from her waist to her under boob, pupils dilated. “Nothing’s wrong, I was just thinking… that Eric dude is so damn stupid".
“What?”, she furrowed her brows in surprise, not at all expecting him to bring up Eric when they were about to have sex.
"Look at you, Maisie. You look incredible. If you were mine, I would do anything to keep you", he kissed her then, lowering his body over hers until there was no space between them, his naked chest warm against hers.
Maisie’s heart skipped a beat with Dean’s words. Eric was never one to praise her in bed, or in any occasion, if she was being honest. With Dean, it was not only what he was saying, but also the fact that she could see the lust in his green eyes, in the way he was breathing, and from the hardness between his legs pressing against her center, making her wet.
She sneaked a hand between them, reaching for Dean’s boxers, rushing to have no barrier between them. As if he was again reading her thoughts, he guided her hand to the front of his underwear, pressing it against the outline of his hard cock. “You’re making me so hard, sweetheart”, he breathed, eyelids heaving as Maisie pulled the piece of clothing down his thighs, finally revealing his veiny, thick cock, to her sight.
“Can I touch you?”, she asked, placing her palm in his lower belly, feeling his muscles twitch under her touch.
“Yeah”, Dean answered, watching her every move.
She slid her hand down and closed her fist around his lengthy cock, caressing it, feeling it heavy and warm. “Fuck, Dean, you’re hot as fuck”.
He chuckled with the compliment. “Right back atcha, baby. Lemme touch you too”, Dean said, already running his hand on the inside of her thigh, fingers gently probing her center. She lowered her head to watch him use his fingers to spread her lips and gather the slick there, using it to lubricate his cock and make her hand slide easily on the length.
Maisie moaned with his touch, and Dean took it as an incentive to bring his hand back to her pussy and push one finger inside while he kissed her again. They touched each other for a few more minutes, until Dean placed his hand on top of hers, making her stop the up and down movements that were driving him completely insane.
“Mais, I need you to stop”, he asked, pulling back and watching her face, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from his kisses and bites, looking absurdly sexy.
“What’s wrong?”, she questioned, concerned.
“Nothing ‘s wrong, it’s just if you keep doing that I’m not gonna last”, he confessed, crawling over Maisie again, kissing her deeply, using one hand to support his weight and the other to caress her plump breast, rubbing the nipple with his thumb. “I wanna be inside you. Wanna make you cum so hard you’re gonna forget every jackass that didn’t fuck you as good you deserve”, he whispered against her lips, letting go of her breast and running his hand down her body until he reached her center again. He then held his cock and ran it through her lips, not really entering her but coating himself with her slick even more, bumping her clit and making Maisie moan with the feeling. “Do you want that?”, he asked, teasing.
“Yes, yes, please Dean, just fuck me already”, she whined, eager to know how he would feel inside of her.
Dean pushed the tip of his cock in her entrance, feeling her already stretching to accommodate him. He hissed at the feeling of warmth and wetness, her nails digging at his shoulders as he entered her slowly, with in and out movements, inch by inch, taking turns between kissing her and sucking her nipples, as Maisie slid one hand down his back to push his hips, silently asking him to go all the way in.
With him completely sheathed inside her, Maisie was feeling so full and stretched, to the point where she knew it would hurt a little once he started moving. Dean was so thick, she found it hot how much she was struggling to take him. He was making her feel things she wasn't used to and, at this point, she just wanted him to fuck her senseless.
He seemed to have a different idea, though, judging by how his hips were completely still.
"Dean", she called, running one hand through his soft hair, "can- can you move? I need you to move", she pleaded, voice strangled with need.
"In a minute, baby. Just need to get used to you. You have no idea how good you feel", he explained, grunting and moving a few inches out of her, teeth clenched. He could feel her muscles snuggling him so much he was afraid he was gonna come, but the need to drive himself deeper inside of her was too much. He did exactly that, and judging by Maisie’s gasp, she felt as good as he did.
“You feel amazing”, he praised again, pulling out and pushing in harder this time, and Maisie’s moans were increasing according to the force he was putting into fucking her. Each one of Dean’s thrusts made her body move further up on the bed. He was hitting her sweet spot with perfect aim and, as he pushed one of her legs further up, her clit started pressing on his pelvis. She had lost the capacity to form words, turning into a moaning mess, digging her fingers into the meaty part of Dean’s thick shoulders, trying her best to keep her eyes open to watch his beautiful face contort with pleasure every time her walls constricted around his length.
Dean slowed down his movements, wanting to last and drag his and Maisie’s pleasure further. “Is it good, baby girl?”, he asked between ragged breaths, kissing and nibbling her jaw and neck.
“S-so good. So- so f-full”, she managed to say, fingers travelling down to his plump ass, “so deep, Dean”.
“Yeah? I can feel this perfect pussy squeezing so hard around me, sweetheart. Are you about to cum?”, he continued, hand sliding to her mound, pressing down as his thumb found her clit, making Maisie’s hips jump from the bed.
“Oh, yes! Dean, I’m-“
“Come, baby, come for me”. He pinned her hips down and buried himself in her to the hilt as her muscles contracted around his cock. Maisie’s ragged breaths and moans were louder and he couldn’t hold it anymore. She was taking him so well. He came hard and deep inside of her, painting her walls white and making it leak around them both.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, he grunted, the pleasure spreading to his toes as Maisie pulled his head down to kiss him, not an inch of space between their sweat-slicked bodies.
They slowly came back from their highs, bodies still joined, Dean’s head resting between Maisie’s breasts while she caressed the hair on the nape of his neck. After a few minutes, he tilted his head up to look at her. “That was incredible. You’re so perfect”, he said, kissing her, hot and messy mouth exploring hers.
“Stop, Dean. You’re making me blush”, she said, smiling as her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.
“It’s true. And you look beautiful when you blush. But I know something that will make you look even prettier”, he stated, kissing her again and slotting himself back between her thick legs.
She made space for him and felt his cock getting hard against her left inner thigh. Maisie laughed when Dean’s mouth travelled to her neck, sucking the sweet spot behind her ear. It felt good to see the way he reacted to her so promptly, how she aroused him right after they just had the most amazing sex. It felt like they knew each other for way longer than they actually did. “Tell me, Dean”, Maisie encouraged him, wanting to hear more of that deep, sexy voice of his saying dirty things to her.
He answered by straddling her mid, cock standing hard and glistening with their juices. It was a mouth-watering sight, Maisie thought, and she wanted nothing more than to suck him off. She reached out to take him in her small hand, and Dean grunted. “You would look amazing covered in my cum”, he confessed, hips jerking with her touch.
“I think I have a better idea”, she looked up at him from under her lashes, leaning up to give a kitten-lick to the head of his cock. Dean hissed and threw his head back, every inch of his body reacting to Maisie’s caress.
She pushed him back on the bed and knelt between his spread legs, proceeding to hold his cock with one hand and sucking on the tip while watching his every reaction. He felt heavy and hot in her hand, and she took him as far as she could, moaning around him.
“Fuck, Maisie, I’m not gonna last”, Dean warned, his length pulsing on her tongue.
Giving one particular strong suck and slurping their combined juices, she let go of him. “Do you wanna come all over me, Dean?”, asked the woman, sensual eyes watching him panting. She knew the answer, he already said it, but she wanted to hear him say it again.
“Yeah, baby”, he replied, lips parted while he watched her give one more kitten lick to the head of his dick and jerk him off until he exploded, painting her breasts and stomach with his hot cum.
“Wow, Dean”, she exclaimed, collecting some of the liquid from between her breasts and licking her fingers to clean it, tasting the tanginess of his cum.
“That was so fucking hot, Mais. You’re incredible”, he pulled her in for a kissing, tasting her and himself, pushing his tongue into her mouth and making her moan.
Wrapping her body in his embrace, Dean pulled her down to lay on the bed with him, still kissing her and exploring her curves with his hands. Once they stopped to catch their breaths, Dean noticed her eyes getting heavy as he caressed her back. He watched as she fell asleep and pulled a blanket over them, letting himself be carried away with her to a dreamless, peaceful sleep.
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The Winchesters stayed with Maisie for a week. After the police was done collecting evidence from her place, the three of them went back and settled there, trying to help her back to her routine and mostly waiting to know what would happen with Eric. Sam slept in Maisie’s old bedroom while she and Dean shared the other room. That made the younger Winchester smile. He could tell right away that his brother and friend had clicked off, and he hoped they would both get the best out of whatever was going on between them.
In the meantime, Dean was so adamant at making sure Eric would stay in jail and have no chance at ever getting close to Maisie again that, when a hunt surfaced in a city nearby, he sent Sam and asked Bobby for help, deciding to stay with her just in case.
“It’s a quick and easy salt and burn, Sammy, you don’t need me. ‘Sides, Bobby is on his way. Maisie is gonna talk to her lawyer and I wanna be here, in case we need to do something to keep the jackass locked up”, he explained, patting Sam on the shoulder and giving him the Impala’s keys.
Gladly, everything went fine and Eric would wait for trial in jail. Maisie’s lawyer assured her there was no way he was not getting convicted, and Dean only agreed to leave because of that.
“Mais, I’m- Sam and I are one call away. All you have to do is give us a call and we’ll be here or have someone here with you, okay?”, Dean assured, giving Maisie one last hug while Sam was already waiting in the car.
“I know, Dean, thank you. I appreciate everything you guys did for me. Especially you”, she said, smirking devilishly and pulling him down for a kiss. “I cannot wait to see you again”, she whispered in his ear before they split.
Dean’s ears were red but he was grinning. “Me too, sweetheart. I’m gonna text you every day. You text me back, alright?”.
“I will, I promise”, she said, waving goodbye as he walked towards the car.
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As Dean drove down the road, switching the radio on, Sam watched him. Since it didn’t look like his older brother was gonna say anything, he decided to give him a push.
"So, what?", Sam asked.
"What, what?", Dean replied, raising an eyebrow, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
"You and Maisie. Was it just a one-time thing?".
"Hell, no. Not if it's up to me. She’s pretty great, Sammy", Dean smiled, mind filled with the memories of their good time together.
"I know that. That's why I'm asking. Don't break her heart, man".
"I won't, man. I promised her I'll come back. I will call and text and check on her too. I will. She knows how our life is, though. She knows I can't be there every day. But I'm gonna be there for her, for the important things at least. She will never have to deal with that dude ever again, if it's up to me. I’m gonna keep her safe", Dean looked at his brother, stern expression telling Sam he meant every word.
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5 years later – after Purgatory
Maisie’s bare feet were starting to hurt from walking up and down the living room. The perspective of seeing Dean after a year was making her too anxious. One year without hearing his voice, except for the voice messages she kept replaying every time the pain of missing him was too much to bear. One year of no texts, no pictures, of not looking into his green eyes. One year of not knowing if he was even alive.
He was back now, but she had no idea in what state, physical and mental, she would find him. That was only increasing her nervousness, but she tried to hold on to the fact that he was alive, and he was gonna be there with her at any moment now. Everything else, they would manage together.
She ran to the door the moment she heard the sound of the Impala’s engine. If it weren’t for Sam’s call giving her a little more detail, the only indication she had was a text message sent from Dean’s old phone: I’m back and on my way to see you, Mais.
Maisie wouldn’t even had believed that the message was actually from Dean, if Sam hadn’t call right after she received it, explaining that Dean was alive. Apparently, the brothers had a fight, and Dean was on his way to see her. She and Sam were not exactly in the best terms at the moment as well – Maisie was not happy with the fact that he didn’t look for Dean, and she had a suspicion that was the reason they fought.
Once she reached the front door, Dean was already halfway up the short staircase leading to the house’s porch. “De-“, she started saying, tears running down her cheeks, but he didn’t let her finish. He skipped the last two steps and pulled her into his arms, embracing her as tight as he could while kissing her almost with bruising force.
“I missed you, Mais, I missed you so fucking much”, he said between kisses. She sobbed and laughed at the same time, heart thumping in her chest. The relief of seeing him again, looking tired but somewhat whole, was everything she had hoped for in the last year.
“I missed you too, Dean. I love you”, she said, knowing it would scare the shit out of him, but not wanting to spend another day with the regret of not having him know the depth of her feelings.
Dean stepped back but kept his arms around her waist. He was clearly shocked, but soon his wide eyes gave way to the wrinkles that framed his face so beautifully every time he smiled. “I- I love you too, Maisie. I didn’t realize how much until I couldn’t be with you”.
She kissed him again, standing on her tiptoes to throw her arms around his neck. Maisie was glad to realize she didn’t forget the smell of him, or the feeling of his short hair on the tip of her fingers, or the way his big hands fit so perfectly on her hips.
Taking his hand in hers, Maisie led Dean inside the house. As if no time had passed, they sat at the table and she offered him the cookies she prepared on the day before, and he ate all of them, just like he always used to do, to her complete joy. After that, they talked for a while, sharing their perspectives about everything that happened during the past year, how she searched for him and even reached to some of the Winchesters’ hunter friends to help once she realized Sam was not doing what she expected him to.
It was a hard conversation for both of them. Dean wanted more than anything to simply forget everything, but he knew that he owed Maisie an explanation. She was utterly shocked when he mentioned Purgatory and everything he went through there, but her resolution to help him heal didn’t change, not even for a second.
The night ended with them making love. Dean got so lost in the comfort of her body, something he craved and wished for so long, that it wasn’t even surprising to him to feel a tear streaming down his face when he was finally inside her. There was nothing he wanted more than to be wrapped in her scent, her softness, to have every curve of her body fitting into his, to feel as comfortable and safe as he always felt with her.
He took her slowly at first, savoring the feeling of being joined with her after so long, of feeling her heartbeat against the hand he kept on her left breast, of watching the goosebumps forming on her skin with every one of his touches.
On the second round, Maisie was sitting on Dean’s lap, legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. One of his hands was placed on her lower back so he could help her ride him, pushing her down and filling her to the hilt with every thrust. Her look was of pure bliss, cheeks flushed with the effort, and it was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen.
"My God, you're stunning. Do you know that? Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you come?", he asked, pushing a strand of hair from her face while they were catching their breaths, sweaty bodies still intertwined.
Maisie looked at him with watery eyes. She couldn’t believe fate brought the two of them together. In the years they knew each other, they both changed so much, and all they’ve been through only made Dean more handsome and perfect in her eyes.
“Thank you. Thank you for being so perfect. Thank you for being mine. I love you”, she replied, kissing Dean again, savoring the feeling of his plump lips and the slight roughness of his stubble against her palms.
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10 years later – Lebanon, Kansas
Dean watches as Lily’s eyelids got heavier and heavier as he finishes the story. When she finally falls asleep, her little hand still holding his thumb tightly, he gently pushes her hair, as dark as her mom’s, out of her face. His movements are delicate, but she opens her big green eyes that look so much like his, and stares at him briefly, before falling asleep again.
He spends a few more minutes watching her, until a movement by the door catches his attention.
Maisie is standing there, in her pajamas, watching him. She smiles when he notices her.
He removes his hand from his daughter’s carefully, stands up from the stuffed chair by her bed, and walks to the door, where his wife waits for him.
“Hey”, Maisie greets in a whisper when he approaches her, extending her hand so Dean can hold it. He does, intertwining their fingers and standing next to her.
“Hey, baby. How long have you been standing there?”, he asks, kissing the top of her head.
“Just for two or three minutes. I arrived when you were telling her about how you fell in love with me from the first time you saw me”, she revealed, looking up at him and blushing.
Dean chuckled. “You got me there. It’s no lie, though. She loves hearing that story. It’s the one she always asks me to tell her. That, and the one where mommy and daddy reunited after he got out of monster land”.
“Monster land?”, Maisie furrowed her eyebrows in a questioning look.
“Yeah, that’s what I call Purgatory to her”, he gave her a cocky smile, obviously proud of his own creativity.
“I hope you spared her of the details”, she said, chuckling at Dean, once again amazed at the fact that their daughter seemed to love horror stories, just like her father.
“‘Course. Our story ain’t no fairytale, but I think it’s pretty awesome. Plus, she has to know how great her mommy is”, he affirmed, charming as always, and Maisie pulled his hand so they both would move away from Lily’s bedroom door. She closed it and led him to their room.
Once inside, the woman turned around and threw her arms around her husband’s neck, kissing him deeply.
“I love you, Dean. I love how amazing you are with our daughter. I would go through everything we went through all over again knowing it would lead us to this. You, me, and Lily”, she declared, eyes watering.
It was his turn to kiss her now, his warm palm against the side of her neck guiding her into the kiss. Maisie was so much shorter than him that, when they stopped for air, he rested his chin on the top of her head. “She’s only 2, but I know she’s growing up to be as fierce and strong as you are. Once she’s old enough, she’s gonna know how her dad went through hell and Purgatory, and how her mom was the reason he came back every time. How you waited for me and welcomed me with open arms, when I was bruised and battered and more fucked up than before. But you put me back together, baby. I love you”, Dean said, holding his love in his arms.
THE END.
Taglist (I'm sorry super this is super outdated! If you want to be removed or included in this taglist, let me know and I'll gladly do it <3): @sexyvixen7; @candy-coated-misery0731; @dean-winchester-lover99; @thoughts-and-funnies; @avanatural; @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior; @eevvvaa; @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes; @djs8891.
#fic rec#dean winchester smut#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester pining#dean winchester x ofc#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester
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seriously I don’t think any show has captured the pain of being a bystander more than miseinen. like i just can’t stop thinking about everything he’s told in this episode and everything he sees and how powerless he is to do anything about it. when you say bystander, you think of people that chose to do nothing, who just stand on the sidelines and watch but don’t get involved. and maybe that’s how minase started out, but this show proves over and over again that it’s not a choice anymore. given the choice and ability, minase would stand up and do something. he’s not the person anymore stood outside hirukawa’s house with the emergency number dialed but ultimately doesn’t do it. bc he cares too much now, and when you care, you want to help. but the world is so rigid in what they expect of him and hirukawa that there is no way to help.
i keep thinking about what the teacher said at the start of the ep. this doesn’t concern you. it’s already settled. don’t make your parents worry. when minase says he’s telling the truth, he’s told to focus on what’s important- and so the truth isn’t important here, neither is what hirukawa thinks or minase thinks. it’s what someone has already decided they are, and they are just too busy or just don’t care enough to go to the effort to see whether that decision is right. it doesn’t affect them whether hirukawa is the awful person they think he is or misunderstood, to them he’s just a part of the job they want to deal with and move on. even though no other adults are as present as hirukawa’s dad or minase’s mom, the show still has these small moments that show us that there is no other option for them to get help bc no one at school cares either. i said before they live in a world of ignorance where they’re unable to ignore, and so they deal with it all instead of being able to find help. and it feels equally horrible when you consider that unlike a parent, who yes should feel some responsibility or obligation but ultimately there’s nothing holding them to that, teachers are employed and paid to care, they should help these kids as much as they teach them, so to see them chose ignorance too is just as hurtful.
and back to minase, this episode showed us perfectly how much it can hurt when you know you can’t do anything. he can’t comfort hirukawa no matter how much he wants to if hirukawa won’t let him, he can’t change his mind and how he thinks of himself bc hirukawa’s trauma traps him in that mindset. he can’t stay by hirukawa’s side and support him if hirukawa sends him anyway, he can’t fight against what someone who’s hurting wants, all he can do is listen, bc no one ever listens to what hirukawa wants, so he will, even if it hurts him, even if he knows that it’ll hurt hirukawa too. minase is done with being a bystander but even here he is forced to be one, bc the truth doesn’t get through to hirukawa just like it didn’t get through to that teacher. what’s right, which would be to stay with hirukawa and help him, doesn’t matter just like it didn’t matter to that teacher, all he can do is listen and do as they say when people tell him to walk away, that he can’t do anything. and that’s why this show is excellent, bc it makes me feel the pain of knowing but being powerless just as much as I do the pain of actually experiencing these things.
#I might be a bit broken#this show is just too good#it’s too excellent#the acting from these two this ep was just fucking off the charts#the way hirukawa’s response to this was almost cold and stoic you could see the shock and the confusion of what he’s supposed to feel about#this and you also get the moments where the hurt and emotion breaks through and he just breaks down#and you get the desperation that minase feels to help and support and stop hirukawa from blaming himself. he just wants to do something even#if it’s just be there for him and make it so that he doesn’t have to go through this alone but he can’t even do that bc he can’t fight what#hirukawa wants even if he knows it’s not what he truly wants- he knows how hirukawa feels about him but he also knows how difficult this is#for hirukawa to reckon with and he knows how hirukawa will burden himself before he does anyone else and that’s not good but it’s what#hirukawa thinks and feels and as much as you want to stop that there’s no switch no magic words he can say to get him out of that mindset#and so he has to go bc it’s what hirukawa wants and minase is the only person that actually listens to him#god I’m in pain#miseinen#our youth
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I'm sorry, I've been trying so hard to accept Izuku becoming a UA teacher but I just can't. I love Horikoshi for the happiness he and his story have brought me over the years, but Izuku being a teacher is just bugging me so hard. I know he'd be an incredible teacher, I'm not arguing against that. But beyond the fact that I think Izuku himself would want to at least stay in the hero industry, I don't think there's any chance Katsuki would've let him give up on being a hero.
I think that's why Horikoshi at least made it a point in canon to emphasize that Katsuki especially was behind funding Izuku's hero suit. Because he of all people could not let Deku go. He needed him to be a hero. And I appreciate that we at least see that much in canon. But honestly I think Katsuki would've stepped in sooner than 8 years later and never would have let Izuku give up on being a hero in the first place.
I don't know at what point Izuku gave up on being a pro hero and started looking at other career options, but whenever it happened, I just know he must have spoken to Katsuki about it. Izuku, unreliable narrator that he is, probably fooled even himself into thinking that he's okay with it. That he's blessed to have lived his dream as long as he did. That his time is over. But Katsuki would've shut that shit right down.
Kacchan Bakugou did not watch Izuku spend 10+ years wanting nothing more than to be a hero, while quirkless, just to then watch him give up on being a hero because he lost his quirk. He would've called bullshit on that immediately.
Katsuki knows Izuku intimately. He knows how badly Izuku needs to be a hero. Being quirkless never stopped Izuku from wanting to be a hero before. There's no reason it should stop him now. And he'd say as much. Ain't no way he'd let Izuku give up on being a hero just because he lost OFA.
#bnha manga spoilers#bakudeku#bkdk#bnha 430#Get out those fucking notebooks of yours‚ Izuku. I know you have plenty of shit written down about support items for a quirkless hero.#katsuki has seen Izuku be quirkless and still want to be a hero so he knows something's wrong here#why doesn't he want to be a hero anymore? what's stopping him?#is there guilt at play here? something to do with not being able to save shigaraki?#or did Izuku become so attached to OFA that he doesn't know who he is without it anymore? doesn't think he can be a hero without it?#he needs Katsuki to remind him of who he was before OFA. of the quirkless boy who wanted to be a hero.#i think what's bugging me so much is that izuku had never shown any interest in being a teacher#if he had wanted to be a teacher since before the war then yes‚ I'd be happy for him and so so proud#good on him for deciding that he wants to help shape the next generation through teaching and whatnot.#maybe he realized that he can inspire others through ways not involving beating villains and stuff#but you cannot tell me he wouldve ended up a teacher had he kept OFA#the only reason he became a teacher is because he lost OFA. he never would've done it otherwise. he would've become a pro hero#that's why it feels like a loss to me. because it's a back up plan. not his true goal.
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