#i hate the way it looks but still would like to post it.

[esotericbluntbaby]

compensation

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: going against your wishes, your boyfriend decides to fight another match after spraining his wrist the last time he boxed. injured, he returns home to his girlfriend, who can't help but feel more than just "angry."

mentions: boxer!hamzah, bf!hamzah, angsttt, female reader, sub! hamzah, blood, bruises, nsfw!

GUYS IM SORRY I FORGOT TO POST THIS PLS DONT KILL ME

--

this was the first time that hamzah kept you in the dark, betraying your trust in him.

he was always a strong-willed, passionate boy; in fact, it was one of the things you found attractive in him. he kickstarted his youtube with his resilience and determination. giving up was simply not an option for him; one way or another, plan after plan, he'd get his goal even if it meant he had to cut off his limbs and sell them. if hamzah wanted something, he would get it, similar to a horse kicking whenever it's being restrained. though, normally, he knew when to stop pushing, especially when the cost was more than the benefit.

the last time hamzah boxed, his wrist fractured like a 6 year old cracks a wishbone. you, obviously, knew that getting hurt was apart of his hobby; you didn't like it, but you accepted that it was inevitable for some part of him to be banged up and broken. he allowed you to stay in the hospital with him during the time he was getting monitored, meaning that you were allowed to hear the doctor tell him that he had to wait 6 weeks to box again.

during the hospital visit, hamzah realized he had a match in exactly 5 weeks. you argued with him, telling him that there would be no way in hell that he'd be able to box until his wrist is fixed. of course, being as stubborn as a mule, hamzah argued back that he had to fight if his life depended on it. eventually, the night settled in as you laid in bed together that night, cuddling; he told you that you were right. reassuring you that he wouldn't be fighting, he kissed you goodnight. you thought you wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

that was, until tonight, an hour after the match: when hamzah walked in the front door, bloody and bruised.

his eye began to swell, darkening around the indents of his skull. the black eye that adorned his face was accompanied by a deep gash that exposed the layer beneath his skin. he looked at you with guilt plastered in his banged up face, furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips being muted by the extent of his injuries. you didn't have to guess where he was: you felt betrayed by the fact that you knew exactly what he went out to do. alongside his injuries and deception, came a girlfriend who wasn't going to speak to him.

--

not a single word was said when you grabbed his other wrist and walked to the bathroom with him; the room was filled with silence and guilt radiating off of him. he was currently sitting on the toilet seat as you rummaged around the medicine cabinet for materials that would help you fix his wounds. though you were upset, you weren't going to leave him to tend to his own injuries; you were still his girlfriend, after all. sitting on the floor, you grabbed his wrist to check how worsened it became.

"baby-"

"no, hamzah."

from your previous arguments, you knew that hamzah has a habit of overloading you with pet names. he knew he fucked up; you know he fucked up. him starting his sentence with "baby" helped you realize that he knew he's in the doghouse.

taking the textured, cotton gauze, you began to wrap his wrist with a softness that foiled your emotions towards him. you felt his eyes trained on you like the aimbot of a video game; his gazed fixated on every single movement you made. he noticed the way that you still looked so pretty even when you were mad at him. the way your face looked, tensed and full of agitation, created a pool of guilt that he swam in. he hated making you upset, but he simply needed to box. it was passion. it was commitment. he had to do it; at least, that's what he was telling himself. however, no matter how much he told himself that he had to fight, he knew it was wrong of him to go against your wishes and back. he knew you wanted the best for him and his physical being.

"i'm sorry. i shouldn't have gone tonight. i was being stupid and i shouldn't have went behind your back like that."

you listened to him apologize, yet, didn't respond. in fact, you didn't even look at him. there was no acknowledgement of his apology; it was almost like it never even happened in the first place. he needed to know how truly upset you were. instead, you focused on wrapping his wrist with a second layer of gauze, to keep everything in place.

"baby, please. just talk to me- i don't care if you cuss me out or give me hell for betraying you like that, just- please talk to me," his mannerisms were tense and rushed, "how do i fix this? how do i get you to speak to me? i'll do anything- i swear- you want me to quit boxing completely? i will. you want me to do all the housework in this house? i will- i'll do every single chore. shit, if even just sitting in a corner for days with no food or water would get you to speak to me, i'd do that. please, baby- please."

you finished wrapping the gauze by the time he finished his speech about what he'd do to get you to speak to him. you began to touch his face, examining the bruise on his eye and cheekbone like a scientist looking through a microscope. suddenly, he grabbed you by the cheek, forcing you to look up at him.

"i'm sorry. please, just speak to me. i'll do anything. talk to me. i just wanna hear your voice."

listening to him yearn for your voice made you feel a certain type of way. yes, you were mad. however, in a way, this whole situation was turning you on. you hated to admit it, but your boyfriend looked attractive with a black eye and bruised cheekbone. the fact that he was begging for you to speak to him made the sexual tension you were feeling within you even worse. his submissive side was creating a potion of ecstasy in your stomach; you wanted to see how far he'd go.

you sighed, "i don't know anymore, hamzah. you told me you wouldn't. i trust you less."

"i know, pretty, i'm sorry. i'll earn it back, i promise. i shouldn't have gone tonight. i was being an idiot."

standing up as his face followed where your eyes were, you rubbed it against his open wound, earning a wince from him as he gripped onto your waist. butterflies emerged in your stomach, causing you to feel similar to how light a fairy is.

"thanks for the warning," he said with sarcasm and irritation laced in his voice, opening his eyes from the hard shut he indulged in

"you don't deserve one."

he pulled you onto his lap, causing you to straddle him on the toilet seat. taking your cheeks, he cupped your face in his hands and sighed. he looked at you with a level of submissiveness you haven't seen in him. normally, hamzah was the dominant one; yet, you didn't mind that the roles switched.

"what can i do to get you to not be mad at me?"

"i dunno. you're a smart boy," you grabbed his cheek and stroked it with your thumb, "figure it out, baby."

you saw a lightbulb flicker on in his eyes. he sensed the tension in the room wasn't only angry, but there was also sexual tension in its silver lining.

"you want me to make it up to you?"

you leaned towards his ear, now whispering, "how are you gonna do that, hamzah?"

you felt something poke at your ass from beneath you, a slight twitch emerging from it too. your words made him as hard as a rock.

that's so fucking hot.

"baby, i thought you were mad at me."

"oh, i am. trust me, i'm fucking pissed."

he kissed you on the cheek, "i'm sorry."

he kissed you on the jawline, "i'm sorry."

he kissed you on the lips, "i'm sorry."

moving down to your neck, he kissed it longer than the pecks he gave you previously. you felt a sucking motion, as well as his tongue swirling on your sweet spot, shortly after. your breath got heavier, almost as if your lungs were being weighed down by hot air. your lips parted as he sucked a dark spot onto your neck.

"i'm sorry, pretty girl. forgive me?"

"not yet."

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "why not?"

"i need more than that."

"tell me what you need, pretty. i'll do it."

you leaned closer to his ear, kissing his neck and the area between, "you know what i want from you."

standing up from the toilet seat, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to your bedroom. your lips began to intertwine with his as he walked through the hallway, your tongues melting together like two lollipops on a hot day. he laid you down on the bed, still kissing you with everything he had; he needs you to forgive him.

letting go of your lips, he moved closer to the edge of the bed, taking off your shorts and leaving you in your underwear. feeling exposed in front of hamzah was always nerveracking in your own way; however, this time it was different. you knew hamzah had to please you, leaving you with a newfound confidence.

"are you okay with this?" he asked, exhibiting a level of care that you were all too familiar with.

"do whatever you want to me, hamzah."

taking your underwear off, you were left laying on top of your sheets in a tank top. his arms wrapped around your legs like a snake to its prey, prying your legs apart with a sense of desperation.

"you're so pretty like this baby," he kissed the inner part of your thigh, "you're so fucking pretty."

he spit on the area between your legs, earning a subtle gasp from you. his tongue began to lap on you, dropping saliva on the area of you that was already wet. between your legs, you felt the roughness and neediness of his tongue. his hands squeezed your inner thighs as pleasure began to unravel the metaphoric yarn located in your stomach. hamzah was eating the fuck out of you, leading to your moans getting louder and louder with each and every movement his tongue created against you.

his tongue produced a dance that only the both of you would know. some parts were as fast as light, while other ones were full of yearning and slowness; he knew exactly how to balance it for you to feel the best that you could feel.

your hands made its way to his hair, "you're so pretty like this, hamzah. my boy- my pretty boy."

his movements got faster as his grip against your thighs tightened even more, as if you were going to fly away if he let go. similar to his hands, you squeezed his hair as his movements quickened in pace; you could feel the yarn unraveling like a rubber band about to snap.

"f-fuck- hamzah, i'm close-"

he kissed your core, before his tongue sped to a pace you haven't felt before. you watched him eat you out like there was no tomorrow, leaving loud moans echoing the room, before he felt you release into his mouth. kissing it once again, he looked up at you as his hands massaged the pillows that he was in between. you looked at each other with love while he watched your heavy breathing and fucked-out expression.

"forgive me?"

"i forgive you. please go box someone else, baby."

confusion was apparent in his face, "what?"

"you're so fucking hot when you're bruised and yearning."

--

author's note!

this is so short omfg i hate using anatomical words for smut LOL more coming soon!

[norrisainz33]

set up || ls18

☆ summary: esteban sets his good friend lance up on a blind date after a tough season

☆ pairing: lance stroll x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: yes! thank you sm for your request 🫶🏻

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by estebanocon, flavy.barla, astonmartinf1, ynuser, hugoboss, pierregasly and 654,234 others

lance_stroll: season finale on film 🎞️ hopefully next season holds more success for the team

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user1: we love you lancey

estebanocon: you’ll come back stronger next season💪🏻 [liked by lance_stroll]

user2: aesthetic fr

chloestroll: love you brother 🤍 [liked by lance_stroll]

user3: nowhere to go but up!!

flavy.barla: 💚 [liked by lance_stroll]

user5: hope you get some well deserved rest

astonmartinf1: we keep pushing! enjoy your break lance 🫶🏻 [liked by lance_stroll]

estebanocon has posted to his story

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yourbff: they’re so cute

estebanocon: and a mess but love them nonetheless 🤍

user1: obsessed with eo31 bf content

ynuser: heheh you can’t but you still do anyway. merci mon ami 🫶🏻

estebanocon: you are always welcome y/n/n

user2: is that the [insert uni] volleyball player y/n y/l/n? no way yall know her she went to my uni im?????

lance_stroll: who is flavy’s friend?

estebanocon: y/n! she’s flavy’s childhood best friend. why do you ask 👀🤭

lance_stroll: ah just curious.. she’s real pretty

estebanocon: oh curious are we?? im telling flavy

lance_stroll: no no that’s ok esteban i didn’t mean like that

estebanocon: too late!

user3: obsessed with their style tf

flavy.barla: my girl ❤️

estebanocon: guess who’s interested in your girl

flavy.barla: omg who

estebanocon: lance

flavy.barla: we’re setting them up whether they like it or not. i’ve seen the scripts - they’re perfect for each other

ynuser has posted to their story

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yourbff: OMG how did it go

ynuser: amazing actually… hate to admit it but they were right

yourbff: ahhhhhhh yayyy!!!!

yourteammate: begging to know WHO they set you up with

ynuser: would you believe me if i said it was an f1 driver?

yourteammate: no way?! which one!!!!!!!

ynuser: lance stroll 🤭

yourteammate: omg you’re winning he’s so handsome

flavy.barla: you love us 😘

ynuser: i do and you were right. he’s so sweet im actually obsessed

flavy.barla: music to my ears. we’re going on a double date tomorrow 🤍

ynuser: wait what?

flavy.barla: shhh don’t question it. lance has had a tough couple of months and esteban and i think you two are good for each other!! just roll with it 😘

ynuser: fine fine fine

lance_stroll: i had a great time with you tonight

ynuser: likewise! thank you for dinner

lance_stroll: no thanks needed! i’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow

ynuser: i’m looking forward to seeing you too 🥹

lance_stroll has posted to his story

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user4: oh so you’re on a date and it’s not with me….

chloestroll: ARE YOU OUT WITH THE GIRL YOU TOLD ME ABOUT

lance_stroll: yes!

chloestroll: jumping for joy!! can’t wait to meet her 🤍

lance_stroll: you’re going to love her chlo

astonmartinf1: enjoy lance💚

user5: this is unexpected…. a soft launch?

estebanocon: remember when you told me a blind date was a stupid idea and now you’ve seen her more in these past 2 weeks than i have and she’s literally staying at my house ????

lance_stroll: haha yes i do remember saying that and yes i do remember when you told me that you told me so

estebanocon: ok! i just had to make sure you didn’t forget

user8: crashing out that should be me

ynuser: oh these are cute 🤭

lance_stroll: i thought so too 😉

user6: MONTOYA POR FAVOR

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by yourbff, yourteammate, chloestroll, estebanocon, flavy.barla, lance_stroll and 214 others

ynuser: spent some time gallivanting around europe with 2 of my favorite people and a new friend. now onto my first season of professional volleyball with the las vegas thrill. see you all again on match day - it’s time to lock in 🫶🏻

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yourbff: cant wait to see your beautiful self back out there 🏐

ynuser: 🫶🏻😘🏐

flavy.barla: i miss you already

ynuser: i don’t think i’ve ever missed someone more

lance_stroll: good luck! can’t wait to see you again

ynuser: thank you lancey 🤭🤍

yourbff: this is certainly something 👀

yourteammate: clocking this 📝

yourteammate: yesssss my baby girl is coming home to me let’s gooo

ynuser: yes my love

estebanocon: you are always welcome at maison de ocon

ynuser: merci for being the best chauffeur and airbnb owner ever

vegasthrill: our girl 🤍

ynuser: 🤍🏐

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by astonmartinf1, yourbff, chloestroll, fernandoalo_official, ynuser, georgerussell63, and 352,935 others

lance_stroll: i think i might like vegas

[tagged: chloestroll, ynuser]

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user3: smiley lance im crying

chloestroll: you were right i do love her

lance_stroll: knew you would

ynuser: STOP I LOVE YOU CHLOE

chloestroll: run away with me ynuser

scottyjames31: hey hey hey let’s not do that

user8: he deserves this happiness fr

f1gossip: this was not on my bingo card i’ll be honest

ynuser: i like you in vegas that’s for sure

lance_stroll: well thank goodness because you’re going to be seeing a lot of me

estebanocon: disgustingly cute

lance_stroll: thanks man

vegasthrill: thanks for joining us! you are always welcome 🏐 [liked by lance_stroll]

user12: lance smiling and a hard launch before gta6

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by lance_stroll, yourteammate, vegasthrill, yourbff, flavy.barla, and 321 others

ynuser: with love from me and mine 🤍

p.s everyone say thank you eo and fb for this match made in heaven

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chloestroll: thank you esteban and flavy for bringing this ray of sunshine into my brothers life

scottyjames31: thank you esteban and flavy and y/n for making our lance so happy

flavy.barla: it’s the least we could do for our dear friends 🤍

ynuser: crying real tears rn

lance_stroll: 💚💚💚

estebanocon: two of my favorite people

ynuser: i screenshotted this for the next time you complain about me

estebanocon: of course you did

lance_stroll: look at my beautiful girl 😍

ynuser: i’m too busy looking at my handsome man 😍

lance_stroll: god i love you

ynuser: and i love you 🤍

yourbff: im throwing up. this is so cute its made me sick

ynuser: valid tbh

flavy.barla: remember lance_stroll she was mine first

lance_stroll: noted 🫡

yourteammate: dare i say you two are THE it couple

ynuser: babbyyyy 😭😭😭

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes, feedback and reblogs appreciated. getting a lance request made me so happy

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[chuellas]

Life of the Party | L is for Lingerie

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

V. A. L. E. N. T. I. N. E.

Warnings | Fem!Reader, N.SFW, 18+ only, lingerie, teasing, use of the names “Doll” and “Baby”, very slight oral (fem rec), WC: 1.2k

A/N: At long last i get to post a letter for my boy <3 This one was definitely on the tamer end but I hope you all enjoy it all the same ^.^

It’s Valentine’s day and somehow you aren’t privy to your plans all day. He has a surprise for you, that’s what he’s been saying all day when you periodically ask, trying to see if he’d slip up and give you some sort of hint. You hate surprises, he knows you hate surprises, so it had better be something really good especially since he is so annoyingly good at keeping the secret.

Chuuya did not disappoint, he never does.

The ginger takes you to your favorite 5 star restaurant at the nicest hotel in Yokohama — now his hotel and his restaurant. Apparently he’d bought it the moment you mentioned dreaming of eating and staying a night or two there a while back. The whole place was cleared out except for the two of you and a few staff members to serve you at the drop of his stupid hat. They served a fixed menu but of course it was all your favorite dishes with all the right substitutions. Chuuya knows you like the back of his hand, sometimes it scares you how well he knows you.

Your dining experience wasn’t the only thing he had planned. Apparently not only were you both eating here but you were staying at the penthouse in this hotel for the night too. You felt like royalty with the way the staff was treating you. Chuuya knew exactly how to spoil you and you think you could get used to it.

He had another surprise for you, this one came in the form of garments. He’s always told you how good you look in red and took it upon himself to buy you a custom made lingerie set. Just by the look of the packaging alone you can tell whatever is inside was expensive. Chuuya spoils you.

You pull out the set only to be met with the most luxurious lace and silks, this had to be the most expensive outfit you owned, it’s a shame only Chuuya would be seeing it. You slip off your dress and slip into the intricate lace and satin bodice, panties and thigh garters. You let a few curses slip as you struggled with getting into the outfit, thankful you made the decision to get dressed in the bathroom instead of in front of Chuuya like he had insisted. You take one look at yourself in the mirror and suck in a nervous breath as you twist the door handle and walk out to reveal yourself to your boyfriend.

You find him sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed. He’s made himself very comfortable — jacket, suit vest, gloves, and hat all neatly set on the room chair. He looks over to you at the sound of the door opening then immediately he reaches out for you as his lids droop and eyes roam your form. Your previous nerves and slight insecurity washes away as he looks at you with his hungry eyes. 

You tip-toe over to him, taking your time in walking over to him, you want to tease him just a little bit. You consider it payback for him not telling you anything about tonight. Impatience flashes across his bicolored eyes and you have to bite back a smirk.

The second you’re within arms length of the ginger, his hands are grabbing at your waist and bringing you into him. He easily lifts you up onto his lap, placing your legs on either side of his hips. He traces the intricate lace of your lingerie, eyes still drinking you in. The silence is comfortable, you wait for him to be the first to say something.

You don’t have to wait long. “Looks even better on you than I’d imagined it would. You know how long I’ve been waiting to see you in this, all wrapped up in pretty lace and silks just for me, Doll?”

You shake your head and give him a pondering expression. “How long?”

Before he answers you, you’re lifted up, hands firmly grasping your ass and he swivels around to toss you onto the bed. You let out a squeal of surprise, glaring up at Chuuya and ready to say something smart to him but the way he’s pulling off his tie with one hand as he climbs over you has the words catching in your throat. The ginger smirks at you, clearly smug with the way he’s left you speechless. You wish you could say this was a rare occurrence but he leaves you speechless a lot and you think if you keep doing that his head is going to get too big for that stupid hat he loves so much.

He tosses his tie to the side and starts to make work on the buttons of his white dress shirt. “Since the day I laid eyes on your angelic face.”

The words roll off his tongue so smoothly. Chuuya has always been so irritatingly smooth. His charismatic aura and mesmerizing eyes doing all the work for him. You hate it but somehow you’re always left breathless when he uses his velvety words on you. Each word he utters’ always dripping with sweet honey.

Breathless. Speechless. Senseless. All good words to describe what Chuuya does to you. The worst part being: he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Knows exactly what to say and how to say it just to leave you at least one of those three things, if not all of them.

The Port Mafia executive has his shirt unbuttoned and untucked in no time, tossing it to the side to join his tie. You can’t help yourself, your eyes drag down his torso, drinking in every curve of skin and every dip in his muscles. Your gaze spends extra time at the trail that starts at the bottom of his navel and travels down, disappearing under the waistband of his slacks. Chuuya notices your gaze and reaches for his pants next but your hand shoots out to stop him. 

You bite the inside of your cheek before looking at him through your lashes. “Let me.”

It’s not a question, so Chuuya raises his eyebrows at you and pointedly looks down at your hand as he removes his own then back to you, wordlessly giving you permission to do as you please. You make quick work of his belt and zipper, shoving both his pants and his underwear down his thighs, freeing his already hard cock with a slap as it hits his lower abdomen. 

Chuuya really thought of everything when designing the outfit you're wearing because as he lifts your legs over his shoulders and settles his head between your thighs, he’s met with your glistening lips. The crotchless panties doing what they’re intended for by exposing you completely to him. Your head lolls back and hands fly to his hair as he licks a stripe through your folds.

“Y’always taste so good, Baby, I could devour you for hours.” Chuuya peers up at you, completely serious and you know he means it and Chuuya is nothing if not a man of his word.

[bennysmiller]

Treat You Better - Part One (Triple Frontier x You)

A new series in which the Triple Frontier boys help you through a breakup, and it changes everything.

The iced latte that sits in front of you doesn’t hit like it usually does and now you’re sure that the worst part about having a broken heart is that it ruins everything for you. You can’t even feed your caffeine addiction without thinking of him.

“So,” Benny starts, hoping to finally get your attention. “You’re looking well.”

You look up at the four men around your table, all of whom seem awkward at the lack of conversation.

“I’m looking well?” You repeat, with a mix of disgust and confusion in your voice, while tugging at your somewhat messy hair and cringing at the bags that sit so proudly under your eyes.

“I mean, considering, you know…everything.” Replied Benny, trying his absolute best to not offend you.

He’s referencing the breakup. Evidently, there is no “post-breakup glow”, your friends had lied to you. You’re a mess. A mess that even coffee couldn’t fix.

“Well, thank you Ben. How charming.”

Frankie clears his throat at this and turns to you.

“What he means, is that you’re handling it a lot better than your last breakup.”

That did not make it any better. You glare at Frankie in response, and this time, Will sits forward, his arms crossed on the table. If looks could kill, Benny and Frankie would be well and truly dead, and Will would be the one holding the gun. That’s shut everyone up, you think to yourself.

“I’ve had enough of this silence. What are we all feeling like doing tonight? Movie night? Something stronger than coffee? Running out into the traffic?” You say, trying to break the tension. After all, you caused it. You invited everyone to the coffee shop just to attend the funeral of your relationship.

No one says anything. Instead, the guys all exchange looks with each other, like they know something you don’t. Like they already have plans they don’t want to tell you about. To your right, Frankie starts playing with his baseball cap and runs a hand through those curls of his. Will is looking at his lap. Benny has a slight smirk on his face, one you know all too well.

The atmosphere between all of you has shifted now. As you go around the table, you discover that Santi is looking at you with a very specific look in those eyes of his. But he looks elsewhere when you meet his gaze, and you know something is up.

“What is wrong with all of you? Has this emotional mess I have become put you off as well?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at them.

“It’s the opposite,” says Frankie, a slight nervousness in his voice. “Benny?”

Now you’re confused. You look at Benny, waiting for him to explain.

He still has that smirk on his face and it’s starting to piss you off. Just a little. It melts you, the way he looks so cocky and handsome and perfect. But he’s being a dick by not answering you, so you shrug at him to further demand a response.

“You think you could ever put us off? You couldn’t be more wrong. We have an idea. A game. We love you, but you have terrible taste in men, sweetheart. We hate seeing you so heartbroken. We think we could change that.”

There is something much different in the air now. It isn’t an uncomfortable tension of awkward silence over bad coffee. It’s an excitement you want to know more about. So for the first time since the breakup, of course it is Benny fucking Miller who has managed to bring the butterflies within you back to life. All you needed was for him to light the spark the last man put out, and now you’re overwhelmed with confidence.

“Go on, Miller. Don’t leave me hanging.”

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Home (you) | Gi-hun x Wife!Reader |

Summary: He finally returns to you.

Warnings: Post S1 - Non canon events - Non canon background for Gi-hun - Sad!Gi-hun - Paranoid!Gi-hun - Trauma - Soft!Moments  - NON CANON EVENTS FROM S2  - ANGST -

When Gi-hun was left with nothing but his underwear and a credit card full of zeros his mind did nothing but drift off.

He could not forget them. The others, the ones who died in order for him to be here today. Alive, looking at the account, sounds and smells from the city, ignorance from what had happen to him and others.

Gi-hun knew you were there, at the small aparment you two shared. The small yet filled with love place. It was his safe heaven, the home he loved. Where you waited for him, never once judged him and rather tried to help.

You have been nothing but the best wife, woman and friend. More than what he could ask for and more of what he deserves.

In his mind you should have left him, for someone better. But he could be selfish and when it came to you he was.

But now after everything that had happen..did he deserve to go back to you ? To his life ? When he had promise that he would not dissapear again? But he still did ? Knowing he may not be back ?

His mind driffted back and he found himself walking without a destination, not caring for the cold or nasty looks along the way.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Another morning came, the bed felt cold but you have to get used to it. Thats whar you keep telling yourself. However when you see the ring on your finger you cant help but let out some tears before getting up and prepare for the day.

It has been at least three months now since Gi-hun dissapear without a way to find him.

You tought the loan sharks would look for you but that never happened. Part of you did wonder if they had killed him but when being confronted by you they just said a quick excuse and went off.

You hated your life without him. Besides the pity looks you got at your work or the few words of compassion, you missed him. A lot. You were used to his laught, to his touch, the silly jokes he would make...but that was in the past now.

With a bottle of shake you went to your home. Another day, another week, you should think on moving maybe that way it would hurt less. But the memories with him were deep in your mind and you could not shake them off.

You were going to Open the old door when you took notice that it was slighty Open.

A robbery ? The loan sharks decided to come ?

You moved the door slowly, the old thing making a sound that felt louder than it actually was. The aparment was dark, no light or sight of life. It was just and the forniture.

Or at least thats what you thoguth when suddendly you hear a muffled "fuck" and "I never cleaned that"

Even if it was small you knew in an instant from who it was. You went there, not caring if maybe your mind was playing you a cruel trick. You needed to know.

Once outside the bedroom you turned on the lights seeing his form trying (and failing) to repair some broken base he had most likely knock off.

You also took notice on the big spoot on the wall, yeah it was caused by him once and he never took care of it, but it added personality to the room.

He looked at you. Eyes big like a fish, he was a mess. Hair larger and dirty.

"Gi-hun?" You called taking a step towards him while he took one back. He did not want you to see him like this. He came on impulse, a rational part of him said to not come, but his feelings....he missed you. Wanted you again by his side.

"Please tell me this is real" You tried again voice now breaking as you stopped one hand reaching for him.

Gi-hun felt his heart break, he moved slowly taking your hand in his, the same hand that he had used to fight off Sang-woo was now holding yours.

He almost fell as you pulled him into a big hug, crying on his chest, you had to take a moment to listen to his heart beat. You eyes going over his face.

"Oh Gi-hun...what happened to you?" You asked pulling him for a hug again his own hands returning it with more force. He never wanted to let go of you again.

"(Y/N)...Please" His voice broke at the end "Hold me, I will tell you everytning but please"

He fell on his knees you followed still hugging him, his cries were muffled by your shirt as she held you like you were the only thing that could keep him sane.

"Shh I got you Gi-hun, let it out"

He cried for a bit more only moving when he felt you move from discomfort because of how you two were.

"Gi-hun...you should take a bath" You said to him very careful "I can prepare it for you.."

"Will you stay?" He asked his eyes letting out the raw vulnerability he was feeling

"Of course I will, I will stay with you"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Gi-hun havent feel this...relaxed in such a long time. You carefully washed his hair, and relaxed his tensed back. There was nothing sexual out of it. Just you taking care of him.

And it felt like heaven.

"Im going to brush your hair a bit is that alright with you?" You asked from behind him inside the bathtub  worried that it might trigger something from him.

But Gi-hun just nodded letting out a content sound when the brush made contact with his hair. You were very patient with him, slowly untangling his now long hair. He knew he needed to get it cut off. But he had let himself be lost and...and he could not bring to take care of himself.

"We should also cut your beard too..if you want" You softly asked after you ended with his hair doing a small bow that made him look quiet cute.

He touched his beard without realizing how long it had got. But finally gave a nod to you. He saw you move towards the cabin getting the tools and now taking a seat in front of him.

"Im going to do this slow, ok? You tell me if I need to stop" You tone let him knew that he was the one in charge of the situation. You did not know what had happen to him but it must be more than the old threats the loan sharks would use against him.

No, this was something worse. And you wanted him to feel safe with you.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

After it you offered him a fresh change of clothes. He asked you to stay with him and you nodded. He was slimmer than the last time you have seen him. And there were some bruises too. You wanted to ask him, to know what did happen. But you also knew he would come around, that you needed to be patient with him.

After he changed he muttered that he was tired and you were ready to guide him back towards the bedroom you two shared.

To him the bed sheets felt softer than he did remember. Even if the mattress was old it was better than the beds from the games. A shiver ran down his spine and he had to hold his head to prevent memories from coming back.

"Gi-hun..."

"Can you get me some water...? Please" Gi-hun asked his voice almost breaking. He did not want you to see him like this. So broken so....

He had no words to describe the pain he was feeling.

He felt when you left, and he decided to take some deep breaths, letting the familiar smell of the room fill his sense. He was back, he was at home.

"Gi-hun? I got your water?" You said from besides him giving him the glass as he gulped it down.

And you were with him.

He finally looked at you. Seeing how tired you were. It must have been difficult for you. To be alone and worried over him. He wanted to blame himself even more for leaving you like that. He did not deserve you and part of him wanted you to hate him for leaving and then be back without a explaination.

But as he looked all over you his eyes ended in your hand, most precise on the ring. You were still using it, a solid proof you never gave up on him.

"(Y/N).." Gi-hun said your name with so much care as he took your hands on his bring them up to kiss them. "Im sorry, im sorry that I left you. Im sorry for not coming back sooner" He said between broken sobs. "I know I must have caused you so much pain, and im so sorry for it"

"Gi-hun please stop, you know I would have waited for you a lifetime" You responded gently caressing his face "I dont know what happened to you, and you dont have to tell me. I will wait till you are ready. Just know, I love you. And that wont ever change, just...dont leave me again"

"Never, I wont ever leave you again (Y/N)...you are all I have and all I will ever have. You are the most important thing to me, and from now on I will do my best to show you how grateful im for you being by my side. For putting up with me"

You smiled at him giving him a soft kiss then pushing him down so he could get comfortable.

"And you are the best thing that ever happened to me Gi-hun. You dont have to prove me anything" You laid besides him both facing each other. He pulled you against his chest his face on your hair.

"Promise you wont ever let me go? Not tonight or ever ? Even if...things change" Gi-hun knew he was a different Man now, he could not just ignore his trauma. He was positive nightmares would still come to haunt him and that at some point he would tell you the truth.

But not tonight. Tonight all he wanted was for you to hold him and promise him that everything would be fine.

"I wont ever let you go Gi-hun, not tonight or ever. You are with me till death do us apart, remember ? Now get some sleep I will be here once you wake up"

And that was all he needed to hear. For the first time since he won these games...he got a nice sleep. Besides you anything seemed to be possible. Even finding his way back to life.

[lottsoflanguages]

Not my usual post but I felt I needed to put this out there + it does relate to how Irish institutions refuse to promote our culture.

I don't know if anyone reading this was watching Eurosong tonight. It's the selection of Ireland's Eurovision entry. During it, after a folk and traditional inspired song, the panel basically lambasted it. The consensus was that because Ireland did poorly at Eurovision 2007 (18 years ago btw) with a culturally Irish song that Europe does not like Ireland or its culture and that we shouldn't send a culturally Irish song to Eurovision because we need to modernise (what they actually mean is pander) to their idea of modern European standards. These comments made me quite furious and devastated (clearly evident by the fact I'm posting this). RTE has always come across to me not actually caring about our language or culture when it comes to promoting it to a younger audience. They don't seem to realise that branding Gaeilge and its culture as "an old persons thing" is going to cause detrimental damage to our already endangered heritage, since young people should be the ones you focus on, they're the ones who would be able to bring it down to future generations. Now, back to Eurosong, the way those comments were delivered gave me a sense that we shouldn't even bother sending something remotely Irish to Eurovision. Our culture is clearly embarrassing and something we should be ashamed of because of one bad result 18 years ago and as a result we should hide our heritage and erase it, there can and will not be anything identifyably Irish. It goes without saying that this is a disgusting approach to a dying culture. We hate to admit it, but Gaeilge is dying and we can't even blame the Brits anymore for this. It is the Irish institutions, our government, our broadcaster, everything around us is doing nothing to preserve our heritage. Oh but don't worry guys because that road sign's in Irish so its fine. And don't worry RTE love trad just look at Samantha Mumba doing a lil jig (all that was /sarc btw). It really struck home especially when; 1. the identifiably Irish song finished last in the televote and 2. The Norwegian song that has nothing to do with Ireland (the artist only came to Ireland for the first time last week) won the whole thing and will represent us in Basel. Now, I'll clarify some things. I have all but respect for Emmy herself. She seems absolutely lovely and I will fully support her as our nation's representative. I also generally don't have an issue with artists from other countries representing their non-native lands (see: Celine Dion). My issue stems from the fact that this song was so clearly (at least in my opinion) originally written with the Norwegian national selection in mind. Norway must've rejected it and Emmy's team just went "hey ireland has their selection still open for applicants let's fob it onto them" (that happens much more than you think it does at Eurovision) That's just my theory. So, what RTE have decided to do is mock and put down anything that remotely feels too-Irish in favour of one of Norway's scraps. They would rather pretend to be Norway than appear too-Irish. Cultural folk inspired entries do well at Eurovision, Kalush Orchestra won the whole thing nearly 3 years ago with a folk-hip hop fusion, it got the highest televote ever seen in eurovision (and no, that was not all war pity votes, people do actually like this stuff).

RTE and other Irish institutions are curating this idea that Irish culture and language is something to be ashamed of, something thats cringe or something thats a novelty. It is particular BS in the context of Eurosong and the whole "we can't do good with something cultural" as Ireland's biggest music acts at the moment are those who embrace their heritage within their music (e.g. Hozier, Kneecap, Fontaines DC) and if Irish culture does end up making a comeback, it'll be because of these guys, not our institutions. We've been a (mostly) independent nation for over 100 years, yet Irish still declines. We can't blame the Brits anymore for this lads. In however many years time when Irish culture is nothing more than a distant memory, we'll look back and know exactly who to blame

Apologies if this is all completely incoherent, it's 1am, i'm on a sleeping tablet but autism brain is going. anyways, oíche mhaith a chairde <3

[renthony]

Goddammit I have things to say about Arcane again. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have never been this obsessed with a show that pissed me off so much. Fucking hell.

Longish critical post under the cut.

Husband and I are re-watching Arcane from the beginning, specifically so we can do some critical analysis and frame-by-framing. This watch, I'm really fixated on the way Vi is reintroduced after being in prison, because it does not make any goddamn sense.

If Stillwater is primarily full of Zaunites working for Silco, and Vi is constantly fighting with them, but she's also constantly being tortured by the enforcers...who the fuck is watching her back? How is she alive? Yes, she has a solitary cell, but we see her let out into the common areas. If she has that many enemies in Stillwater, how has she survived this long? The answer seems to be "plot armor," and that's...not a good answer.

If she has literally zero allies in prison, and she is hated by both the inmates and the guards, she'd be dead. Even if we're supposed to assume Marcus gave the order to the other enforcers to keep her alive, we know for a fact that the enforcers are still abusing her, so they clearly don't actually give a shit, nor do they stop the other inmates from fighting with her.

Like, I don't care how much of a badass she is, she has to sleep sometimes. She has to eat sometimes. She has to take a piss sometimes. She is clearly in fighting-fit shape, she is clearly healthy enough to immediately start parkouring all over Zaun after release, so who's letting her have access to workout equipment? You don't get or stay that jacked just by punching a wall. How's she getting enough calories? You don't get the good food if everyone in the prison hates you. For all that she makes a joke to Caitlyn about prison food tasting awful, she is clearly not malnourished.

And who the fuck did her tattoos????? They're extensive and fairly high-quality. If someone else did them, who was she on good enough terms with? If she did it herself, who liked her enough to smuggle, sell, or share supplies with her?

It really wouldn't bug me as much if it weren't for the fact that the narrative seems to want me to see her as a forgotten loner who has nobody in her corner until Caitlyn. Fundamentally, that cannot be true, or Vi would have been murdered and dumped in the water long before Cait showed up.

Also, if Silco has that many people in Stillwater, how does he not have his fingers in the prison smuggling operation that clearly exists? I don't buy it. If he owns Marcus' ass that hard, and he's already involved in smuggling, he'd have spies and smugglers in Stillwater, too. I do not believe that Silco has the power and the confidence to casually threaten Marcus by showing up in the man's personal home, but not enough power and confidence to get spies into a prison that's already full of his own allies/underlings.

There are definitely possible answers to some of these questions, and I certainly have my own headcanons, but it really doesn't feel like the writers' room spent a lot of time thinking about the actual social issues and politics that they invoked for aesthetic.

Usually this is where I'd say, "I wonder what the S&P notes looked like, and I wonder how many episodes they got screwed out of, because so much of this could have been fixed with a little more runtime." Sadly, based on the shit that keeps coming out of Christian Linke's mouth, I don't think we can blame the corporate office for this one. If Christian Linke is telling the truth and the show got all the episodes they wanted, my ever-present "TV writers keep getting screwed, so I have to analyze the finished product with the knowledge that the creators likely got fucked over" goodwill completely vanishes.

The problem really seems to be that the show was written by centrists with a fundamentally flawed understanding of class struggle, drug use, the drug trade, and the prison-industrial complex. It's not surprising, but it does disappoint me.

And while I'm thinking about it, why is Shimmer somehow both drinkable and injectable in seemingly the same form???? Drugs can absolutely come in different forms, but we see people drink the exact same type of shimmer that other people inject. You don't drink injectable drugs. Fuck's sake, this is Skooma levels of "the writers just threw every scary-sounding drug in a blender to make Scary Super Drugs without knowing anything about how real-world drugs work."

Also, if the Firelights' big thing is that they hate Silco Because Of Drugs, I really wanna know how the hell Ekko found that many straight-edge anarchists willing to build a secret compound together. Are they against all drugs, or just shimmer? Where's their line?

[fuck1ng-queen]

Less Complicated

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: none actually, enemies to lovers

Author comments: hey bestiessss! this is the first oneshot i'm posting to celebrate valentine's day with bad omens and i'm so excited to this week because i'll post one per day! i hope you all like it and see you tomorrow! 💕

The wind was blowing so hard you could hear it. You pressed your arms against your body, trying your best to close your coat around you. The leafless trees danced under the light of the streetlamps. A few small piles of snow piled up on the damp sidewalks, reflecting the brightness of the shop windows decorated with red hearts and shiny letters. The distant sound of laughter and conversations between couples walking by created a cozy backdrop, contrasting with your loneliness as you walked. Valentine's Day had never been a special day for you, it was just another one when the world around you was immersed in hearts and flowers. As you walked to the café on the corner, the one you always went to when you felt lonely, your thoughts were occupied with the upcoming exhibition you were organizing for the local gallery. It was the only thing that still kept you distracted from it all.

The sound of music in the distance caught your attention. You frowned in disapproval as you recognized the melody of the famous song by the band you avoided listening to so much. More specifically, the lead singer you'd rather forget: Noah.

Noah had always been a constant presence in your life, but not always for the best reasons. Ever since high school, your lives seemed intertwined by an inexplicable rivalry. He was the kind of person who always made a point of annoying you, as if he knew exactly where every single one of your vulnerabilities was. How could someone who hated you so much get to know you so well? And to make things worse, he did it with pleasure, always with a smile on his face that at the time you could die for, but you would never tell anyone that you found it attractive.

The music in the distance brought back memories. The fierce competitions to be the best student in the class, the discussions about who was the most creative in the projects, the challenging looks you exchanged every chance you got. Noah always found a way to unsettle you, with his unfunny jokes and constant teasing. He knew exactly how to make you angry.

“Do you really think you can beat me?” Noah scoffed after one of the many competitions you’ve entered.

“At least I make an effort, unlike you who only rely on your own cheap charm,” you retorted, with sparks in your eyes.

“Charm? I didn’t know you noticed,” he replied with that mischievous smile that only pissed you off even more.

Inside the café, the warmth and the scents welcomed you. You took off your coat and sat down by the window, opening your computer to revise a few things. You were so immersed in your work that you almost didn't notice when a man entered the café, shaking the snow out of his hair and heading for the counter. He looked different from what you remembered, maybe more mature, but still with that carefree air that irritated you so much. You blinked a few times until you believed it was none other than Noah.

“I can’t believe it.” His voice brought you back to reality.

You looked up, forcing a polite smile. “Noah.”

“You here? I swear I didn’t expect to see you.” He smiled, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“I’m working. What about you?”

“Show. We're in town. It looks like the band is still following you,” he joked, and you let out a sigh.

“Unfortunately, it seems so.” You turned your attention back to the screen, trying to put an end to the conversation.

But Noah wasn't the type of person to be ignored so easily. He ordered a coffee and sat down at your table, facing you. “Why are you always so serious? Isn't it Valentine's Day? You should be having fun.”

“And what about you? Where's your romantic day?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I don't have one. My passion is music, remember?” He shrugged, taking a sip of coffee.

“Of course. How could I forget?” you replied, with a touch of sarcasm. “You play everywhere.”

“You always notice, then” he laughed, making you roll your eyes. “But what about you, still organizing those art exhibitions?” Noah asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Yes, that's my job,” you replied as dryly as you could, turning your eyes back to your laptop.

“You know, you really take all this seriously. Haven't you ever thought about relaxing a bit?” he teased.

You sighed and closed your laptop with an audible click. “Noah, why do you always feel the need to tease me?”

“Because it's fun to see you get angry,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “But maybe I also like to see you a little out of your comfort zone.”

“You don't change, do you? Always the same Noah, eager to be the center of attention,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

“And you, always so focused, so determined,” he said softly. “Maybe that's what I admire about you.”

You couldn't help but be surprised by the honesty in his voice. “Admire? You?”

“Yes. As much as we fight, I've always admired your passion for what you do. We're artists, we can't deny that we're passionate, and I admire that in you. Even if I don't say it often,” Noah admitted, looking directly into your eyes.

You felt disconcerted. You weren't used to this vulnerable version of Noah, let alone a compliment from him, or the way you felt, unable to arm yourself for a response. You looked away, trying to process what he had said.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you mumbled, not knowing what to say.

Noah smiled, realizing that he had managed to disarm you. “Who knows, maybe we should try being friends for once?”

You arched an eyebrow, still skeptical. “Friends? I don't know if we're ready for that.”

“Maybe not now, but who knows in the future?” Noah replied, getting up to leave. “Anyway, it was good to see you. Good luck with the new exhibition.”

“Thank you, Noah. Good luck with your presentation,” you replied, watching as Noah left the café.

(...)

In the following days, you tried to concentrate on your work, but the conversation with Noah kept going through your head. He seemed different, more sincere, more vulnerable. It made you uneasy.

On the opening night of the exhibition, you were nervous. The lights in the gallery shone brightly, reflecting the meticulously selected paintings and sculptures. You ran your eyes over everything, as if there were still some detail or other that might have gone unnoticed, in an attempt to suppress your nervousness.

“It's perfect,” Noah's voice sounded next to you, soft and encouraging.

You turned to him, surprised to see him there. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to support you. We're artists, I know how lonely today can be for you. I thought you might need a friend tonight,” he said with a warm smile.

You felt a genuine wave of gratitude at that moment, making you smile back. “Thank you, Noah. It means a lot to me.”

“Can I ask you something?” Noah hesitated, as if choosing every word he was going to say.

“Of course,” you replied, curious.

“Why have you always hated me so much?” The question was direct, but there was a vulnerability in his voice that made you feel your stomach lurch.

You took a deep breath, staring at him. “It was never hate, Noah. I think it was... fear. Fear of how you made me feel. You were always so free, so confident, and I didn't know how to deal with it.”

“Fear?” Noah asked, surprised. “I never wanted to scare you. I always thought you hated me because well... I've always been a jerk to you.”

You laughed softly, despite your serious look. “And you were. But I was also a bit stubborn and proud. The two of us were always competing, always trying to prove I don't know what to I don't know who. Maybe we were actually trying to hide what we really felt.”

“And what did we really feel?” Noah asked in a soft tone, but full of curiosity.

You sighed, your gaze fixed on his eyes. “I think we were afraid of getting hurt. It was easier to fight than to admit that maybe there was something more. Something we didn't know how to deal with.”

“I won't deny it, I always felt there was something more,” Noah admitted. “But I didn't know how to tell you. Every time I tried, we ended up fighting. And then I thought, maybe it's better this way. Less complicated.”

“Less complicated, more painful,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. “As time went by, I kept thinking about all the things I wish I'd told you, but never did. There was always a barrier between us, something we never knew how to cross.”

Noah took a step closer, gently holding your hand. You didn't remember, but that was probably the first time you touched each other, and it gave you goosebumps. “I always felt that there was something big between us. Maybe it's too late, but I think I'd still like to explore it with you.” 

You felt your heart soar at his words. “Noah, I feel it too. I think I want to stop running away.” 

He smiled, gently pulling you closer. “So, what do you say about starting now? My name is Noah and I sing in a band.” He smiled, holding out his hand to shake yours.

You giggled, feeling your face heat up. You smiled back, your eyes shining with the chance of a new hope, feeling that the truce between you could last forever.

.

Masterlist | Valentine's Day One Shots

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@lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @kenjipepsi1 @chey-h @concretejunglefm @blade-dressed-in-red

Send me an ask to join my taglist

[ohmybueckers]

Never Strangers: Chapter Three

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: binge drinking, I think that’s it???

Authors Note: heyyyyy guys. Sorry this chapter took a hot second to come out and sorry it’s a lot more filler than other chapters - a LOT more was supposed to happen in this one, but I realized I could cut them into two and get this one posted faster. Which means 1. chapter four will come out a lot quicker than this one did and 2. it will be a lot more exciting than this one (based on the ending you can see why). anyways xoxo enjoy!

“No fucking way!”

Brooke braced herself on our kitchen counter, examined my phone like she had never seen one before. I was very aware of the fact my behead was still intact and I hadn’t even washed my face this morning, but I knew Brooke would classify this as an emergency that needed attending to ASAP.

“There’s no way,” I groan, wondering how my mission of avoiding Paige and all feelings associated with her at all cost had blown up in my face less than twenty four hours after getting here. “How does she even know?”

Brooke looked equally puzzled, her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowing before her posture straightened comically fast like a puppet. She shouted, “Adria!”

I was still confused, now even more so. “What?”

“Her story from last night must have gotten to KK, which somehow made it to Paige.”

In recent years I have become what my friends have lovingly referred to as “chronically offline” - it had to have at least been 2 days since I had opened Instagram, and I certainly didn’t follow the younger girl last night. Safe to say I had zero clue what she was referring to. “What story?”

Brooke grabbed her phone from the kitchen countertop, typing quickly before shoving her phone back in my face. Sure enough, Brooke and I were the stars of the story, both holding our glasses and wearing big smiles (certainly a symptom of the cheap wine). How Adria managed to find my account to tag me, I was not sure. All I knew is that Paige most likely saw it, and that a shameful part of me was at least a little happy that I looked good in the photo.

There was certainly no erasing Paige’s memory, so this text was mine to tackle. “Alright, how do I even respond to this?”

From the way Brooke looked at me, you would think I just suggested transferring again. “Respond? You’re kidding, right?”

I shrug, not exactly enthused by the idea of interacting with Paige on my first full day, but not enjoying the alternative either. “I mean, she knows now. It’s kinda rude to not say anything, isn’t it?”

“What’s rude is talking to a girl as if she’s your girlfriend, treating her like your girlfriend, and then disappearing out of nowhere and lying to her about it. You know exactly why she’s trying to hit you up again,” Brooke grabs my shoulder with care, a gesture I leaned into, “If she thinks you’re easy enough to let her in again, you gotta show her she’s dead wrong.”

My mind felt like it was destroying itself trying to figure out the truth. Part of me wanted to listen to Brooke, who had never once led me astray in her advice and had enough experience with fuck boys to know how they tick - even if the fuckboy in question was actually a girl. Everything she was saying matched the image I had built up about Paige in my head for years. 

Once my heartbreak molded into anger, it became a hell of a lot easier to get over Paige, at least enough to date other people at Minnesota. Anger became comfortable for me - except the occasional nights I spent alone in my dorm, looking back at old photos I couldn’t bring myself to delete permanently from my ICloud. Nights where I wondered if I actually had it all wrong, and if somehow I let myself get too comfortable hating Paige to consider any alternative to what was my truth. Was it pathetic to hold on to a grudge from over three years ago? I really didn’t know sometimes. 

I shut my phone off, reassuring Brooke that I was not going to fall back into Paige, which she seemed to accept fairly easily. Brooke ultimately just wants what’s best for me, and the last thing I wanted was for her to spend her last year at UConn worried about me. She had the LSAT to focus on, not my situation with my ex.

Which is why I conveniently forgot to inform her when I decided to respond to Paige that night, waiting until the sun had set and nearly twenty four hours had passed before sending a simple “yes”, throwing my phone on my bed and taking a long shower before I could decide I made a grave mistake. 

———-

The first day of classes came quick, which I was thankful for - there’s only so much time a girl can spend in her poorly air conditioned apartment, and it’s not like Storrs had that much going on when school was not in session. What I was not thankful for was my packed Monday schedule, starting with an 8am economics lecture that I wouldn’t have taken if it wasn’t the last one available to satisfy a requirement, and ending with general chemistry (again, would not take if I didn’t need to squeeze a science credit in). 

If my 3 alarms weren’t enough to wake me up, I could rely on the sun blazing through my apartment at 5:30AM. After making a mental note to finally order some curtains, my full morning routine commenced, the one I saved for special occasions (or for when I simply could not fall back asleep): 20 minutes of pilates, followed by a citrus scented shower, a full makeup routine, and styling my nearly black hair in loose curls. 

By 7:30 I was ready to begin my walk to the business school, smoothing out my floral sundress and hoping it would instill some confidence in me. I would probably lean back into wearing jeans within the next week, but I still had some belief in my mom’s insistence that dressing well on any first day or impression mattered. I guess it did make me feel pretty, in a “belongs more on a Hollister catalogue than a college campus” kinda way. The dress did not fix the way my my first day nerves seemed to wreak havoc on my body, causing me to barely shove a protein bar down my throat before my body decided that was all the breakfast it could handle.

If I were still in Minnesota, my walk to classes would have been a whole lot louder. It was not often I had a commute where I didn’t curse the incompetence of Minnesota drivers. This was not the case in Storrs, partially because there were no drivers. Aside from the shuttle that passed me as I turned onto Alumni Drive, the only sound to accompany me was Beyoncé serenading me through my headphones. While Minnesota was simply a college with a large city unrelated to it, it was evident that Storrs would be almost nonexistent without UConn - if Minnesota was a city school, this felt almost like summer camp in comparison.

 I didn’t know exactly what to make of it yet, but I promised myself I would keep an open mind. I had to. There was no turning back now. 

———-

The day ended up being just as exhausting as I anticipated, potentially even more so. I’m used to liking first days. The idea of a new start each semester usually feels exciting, but this time I may have bit off more than I can chew. Syllabus week at Minnesota was a breeze, my calendar filled with classes where we just went over standard course expectations followed by frat parties I pretended to have interest in. The second my economics professor began lecturing after covering the syllabus for a measly 10 minutes, I knew he did not roll that way.

I genuinely have no idea how I made it through my high school schedule every day: multiple AP classes, followed by an afternoon job tutoring middle schoolers, with mock trial practice shortly after. It’s a miracle I found time to actually have a social life. Clearly my stamina had depleted severely, as by the time I stepped into my history discussion (seriously, who holds discussion when there isn’t anything to discuss yet), I had already made an emergency stop for coffee and was contemplating whether it was possible to take a nap in my thirty minute passing period before my chemistry lecture.

I made quick stop in the bathroom to fix my mascara and ensure the concealer under my eyes wasn’t crumbling (it was). Leave it to a hot September day and a bathroom with yellow tinted lighting to deplete my confidence: my once voluminous curls fell flat to my face, frizz accumulating at the roots. My concealer which had been matched to fit my warm skin tone now made me appear sallow, and my eyes were not fooling anyone - I was truly, undoubtedly tired. Not much I could do at this point other than use a generous amount of travel size dry shampoo, wipe the remnants of my mascara from under my eyes, and hope that the lighting in my discussion wasn’t as harsh.

I stepped into the classroom and was quickly overwhelmed by the size of it - not because it was too big, but because it was intimately tiny. I had been comfortable in my two previous classes, the large lecture halls allowing me to fade a little into anonymity - just another body struggling to stay awake as my professor explains the importance of studying economic law in the most monotonous tone possible. Looking at the long fake wood table and the twelve chairs, four of which were filled, I realized my streak of avoiding introductions had ended. 

After a quick scan, I chose to set my stuff down next to the person who scared me the least: a tall girl with pin straight long black hair, dressed in black baggy cargo pants and an oversized SZA shirt, complete with silver rings on her fingers which were currently in use scrolling her laptop. I offered a customary closed mouth smile as I sat down and set my book bag down on the table. 

There was a short pause where the only sound to hit my ears was the hum of the far too harsh overhead lighting as I took out my laptop, before I heard a deep voice ask, “long day, huh?”

As I turned to face the girl and processed her statement, it was evident that my attempt at looking put together was no longer working, especially now that the humidity had done a number on my hair. To be fair, I did feel like I was about to crash. “Tell me about it,” I replied, face flushed. I began to wonder if I should have sat next to the frat boy who was scrolling on UConn’s barstool account instead.

Maybe she took pity on how embarrassed I looked, because the smirk was erased from her tanned face and was replaced by a look of sympathy. “Hey, I don’t blame you. My 8AM econ lecture was brutal.”

The gears turned in my brain before I realized just what she had said. “Wait, which econ class?” After the taller girl recited a number from the schedule on her lock screen, I grinned. “We’re in the same lecture!”

“I cannot believe he would teach that much content on the first day.” She rolled her brown eyes, “Ok, let me guess. History and economics classes, leather planner… you’re pre-law, aren’t you?”

I mean, she technically wasn’t completely wrong. “Yes?”

“Then why haven’t I seen you try out for mock trial?” She asked, a perfectly shaped brow raised high and the Colgate smile smirk returning to her face. Her voice was low and teasing - definitely the flirty personality type. I could recognize it all too well.

Not wanting to explain my long and complicated history with the organization, I settled for the easy answer. “I just transferred here.”

“Well, we’ll be at the org fair if you want to sign up for a tryout spot,” She smiled, “Just tell them that Alex sent you.”

“Going to take a wild guess here and assume you’re Alex,” I quipped, though I will admit the effort did bring a small smile to my face. “I’m Maya.”

“See! I can already tell you’re clever enough for us,” Alex joked, a ring clad hand bracing her head on the table as she stared at me. I noticed the way she scanned me, her eyes falling down to the v neck of my dress before tracing back up to my smile. I suddenly felt the need to smooth out the bottom of my dress against my legs, my hands feeling very sweaty. 

 Before I could respond, the TA announced the start of the period, and both of our heads turned to the front. The rest of discussion was spent typing notes on when my paper was due and what constitutes academic dishonesty, all while trying to ignore the way the girl next to me kept shooting looks my way.

————

The one benefit of my packed Monday/Wednesday schedule was that my weekend was essentially four days long. I had two classes on Thursday, both criminally early, but it meant that I was done by noon and ready to enjoy a few days with nothing on my agenda… at least once I finished all of my assignments my professors had mercilessly assigned on the first week. 

A groan left my lips for what had to have been the third time in ten minutes as my eyes squinted to make out my general chemistry textbook. I had read the same paragraph around 5 times now, and each time I seemed to understand it less. Even though Adria invited me to study with her on the patio of her favorite coffee shop, I was sure she was about to tell me to leave. “I don’t know how I did AP Chem in high school, this is like a whole other language to me now.”

Adria laughed, looking up from her organic chemistry book (the contents of which I’m pretty sure would give me an aneurysm). “Not a STEM girl?”

“Definitely not a STEM girl,” I shook my head, unsure why the version of me who picked her schedule over the summer decided taking a notorious weed out course was a great idea. Taking a quick sip of my matcha, I added, “But I don’t know if I’m necessarily a law girl either. Been a real pain trying to figure it all out.”

“You will, I promise. Besides, I can always tutor you,” Adria reassured me softly, a gesture that would be a lot sweeter if there wasn’t a tiny voice in the back of my head nagging me for needing a pep talk from someone so much younger than me. If Adria can have everything figured out, why can’t I? “Enjoying UConn so far though?”

“Yeah, it’s been okay! I’ve met some nice people in my classes,” I think about how Alex quickly spotted me yesterday morning in lecture and gestured to have me sit with her and her mock trial friends. Turns out sitting through an 8AM lecture on law and economics was a lot easier when you had a friend next to you. “I think Brooke wants to go to bars this weekend though, and I just know the lines are going to be awful.”

Adria lit up at this. “There’s a party being thrown by members of the mens basketball team tomorrow - someone basically rented out Huskies. I got access to one over the summer and it was a ton of fun - you should come!” 

My mouth opened, trying to form a response. On one hand, it’s not like I had any concrete plans yet, and staying in on the first weekend after classes just felt wrong. But the words basketball rung in my ears like an unwelcome echo. Brooke’s warning that Paige was everywhere on campus rung true already, already overhearing her name in conversations more times than I could count. Seeing her and possibly talking to her? That was a whole other ball game, one that I weren’t sure I was ready to play. It wasn’t even necessarily that I wasn’t over her yet, but rather that we hadn’t spoken beyond a couple of short text exchanges in years (the most recent of which Paige hadn’t even responded to). Running into her was bound to be awkward, and I was determined to avoid the discomfort.

“Oh Adria, I don’t know…”

Adria cut me off, her voice insistent and almost desperate. “Please come. Brooke usually ends up leaving with some guy and I don’t want to be alone. All of my other friends can’t come, they have to be dry for sorority rush.”

I scoffed, though there’s no bite as I joke, “So you’re saying I’m your last option?”

“I’m saying I saved the best for last,” Adria gave a sheepish shrug. “If it helps change your mind at all, the women’s team won’t be there. KK said they were all going to Ted’s.”

I knew that there was no point of basing my choices at UConn based on whether or not I could run into Paige, but I would be lying if I said the reassurance wasn’t helpful. “I guess I could be convinced.” 

Adria clapped, her smile big enough that agreeing already felt like the correct decision. “You won’t regret it, I promise. Pregame at yours?”

————

If there’s one thing I learned after two years going to college in the midwest, it’s how to throw a damn good pregame.

I felt the bass of my music from my JBL speaker course through my body as I set a shot glass back down on the faux granite countertop, wincing as the cheap tequila flowed down my throat. Brooke, Adria, and Brooke’s friend Marley stared at me, a mix of both amazement and slight concern on their face. On nights out, I have been known to pregame heavy, especially nights where I don’t know most people there. For one, it means I spend less money, plus it gives me some much needed extroversion to make it through the night. 

“Damn girl, I did not know you could drink like that,” Brooke whistled, sipping on her High Noon tenderly. Her and Marley had other plans for the night, some frat event. Brooke claimed the only reason she would be caught dead at a frat as a senior is because Marley’s boyfriend was the president and so they got special treatment, but I had my suspicions she might have a frat crush of her own. 

I felt the buzz as the four of us left our apartment, Adria and I running to catch our bus in order to avoid the thirty minute walk. In my alcohol induced giddiness, I noted how the sky faded from a bright blue into a mosaic of purples, pinks and yellows as the sun set over the lush trees. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adria’s phone face me as I gripped the pole, looking out the window of our bus with the amazement of a kid in a candy store. I had spent the past week unsure of what to make of Storrs, but it felt almost romanticized in this moment.

Unfortunately, the picturesque moment did not carry into Huskies, an establishment that was far more of a restaurant than a true bar. A tennis game played over the TV, paired with the speakers blasting Drake as we were surrounded by a sea of girls with bleach and tones and Princess Polly crop tops. The basketball players seemed almost allergic to mingling with their invitees: aside from one or two attempting to chat up one of the girls, they all stood at their own table sipping beers and looking like they would rather be anywhere else. 

Adria ordered us drinks as I snagged us a table. Soon enough we stood side by side, sipping on Captain Morgan and Coke and a tequila sunrise respectively, unsure of what to make of what we were seeing. “It was a lot more exciting over the summer, I swear,” Adria looked apologetic, “Maybe it’s just one of those things where we have to get drunker?”

I was making a mental note to take two Tylenol before bed for the sake of my tomorrow morning self when a man’s voice emerged from the crowd. 

“Adria, you made it!” A pale man with floppy brown hair and impossibly long legs emerged, grin on his face as he wrapped Adria in a side hug. She returned the hug and the smile while brushing a braid away from her face, though hers seemed more forced. She finally pulled away when he began rubbing her arm, her face lighting up upon making eye contact with me.

“This is my friend Maya, she just transferred here.”

He grinned, reaching a hand out to shake hers with a firm grip. “Hey, I’m Noah. You made a good choice!” 

“He plays for the team, I think he might be a bit biased,” Adria remarks, earning her a shocked look from her friend who quickly turned his attention away from me and onto her.

“Me and some of the guys were going to play some darts, you wanna be my partner? I’m sure we can find a partner for Maya as well,” Noah gestures to me without turning his head, as though I am an afterthought. While it’s not like I’m dying to play drinking games with a group of NBA hopefuls, it wouldn’t hurt to at least act like I’m there.

Adria clearly did not want to play as well, as she stuttered out some half-assed excuse. “I think we’ll stay here! Don’t want to risk, um, losing this table.”

Losing this table? Looks like I also needed to make a note to teach Adria how to lie. It was beyond obvious that Noah wasn’t buying it, but I guess  he was choosing not to be confrontational. With a cough, he replied. “Right, um, well I’ll catch up with you later tonight then!”

The second he was well out of earshot (not that far, considering the volume they were playing Passionfruit at), my interrogation began. “Who was that?”

Adria looked down at her drink, looking uncharacteristically unconfident. “That was my in to this bar. We met over the summer.”

I nodded, watching as Noah stopped to chat with a mix of guys and girls under the flashing blue and pink lights. “Well I’m pretty sure he wants to get with you.”

“Oh trust me, he’s tried.” Adria deadpanned, evoking a laugh from my glossed lips. “He’s still a good guy, and I like being his friend. But I’m not into him like that.”

“Is it KK?”

Adria bit her bottom lip, and for a moment I feared I had gone too far, like we weren’t quite at the point in our friendship where that wouldn’t be a sensitive subject. I was ready to retract my question when she spoke softly. “We’re not exclusive… at least I don’t think so. I haven’t been with anyone else, but who knows if she has.”

Man, Adria really liked this girl. Some part of me was thankful to give some advice to her for once, although it’s not like my history gives me the authority to give relationship advice. “Have you tried talking to her about it?”

“Absolutely not.” She shook her head, her eyes wide. “I’m way too scared to hear the answer.”

I felt a pang in my chest, relating to that feeling all too well. I’ve always had a tendency to protect my peace too hard, avoid asking questions to escape conflict - through the years, I’ve discovered it almost never ends well. “But do you think you might be hurting yourself more by not knowing?”

Adria took a pause, staring off as Noah and his friends began frat flicking to some song that did not warrant that at all. “I am not drunk enough to think about that right now.” 

We both laughed, silently agreeing to down the remainder of our drinks at the same time. The ice had melted well with the remainder of my sunrise, dulling the burn of the tequila. This was probably a good thing - I’m pretty sure my tolerance was lowered over the summer, because I felt my body get warmer than anticipated despite the air conditioning working overtime. Adria set her drink down on the table, turning to me once more. From the glint in her eye, I knew she was about to return my line of questioning. “What about you? Are you looking to get set up, because I’m sure that’s the reason those guys invited all of us here in the first place.” 

“First of all, I’m gay,” I began, examining the crowd in front of me. “I’ve been here like a week, haven’t really had the time to think about hooking up with anyone.”

“Well, what’s your type?”

I thought for a moment about my (limited) history. “Tall, athletic, nice eyes…”

“Paige.”

I rolled my eyes, though I would be lying if I said the blonde was not included in my thought process. “I mean it, I’m done with her.”

“No, no. Paige. Right over there.”

It felt like my heart plummeted to my ass, the effects of the alcohol consumed unable to keep me cold as a chill rushed through me. Before my brain could tell me not to look, my head snapped to the front. Two girls now stood at the front of the bar, talking to the male players. One girls laugh cut through the crowd, and I saw a small smile erupt in Adria. That must be KK. The girl next to her, hands shoved in the pockets of her cargo pants, didn’t even need to say or do anything. I could tell Paige Bueckers from any crowd.  

---

taglist (open!): @paiges-1vur @unadulteratedcyclepaper

[livingformintyoongi]

Safe Haven | Kim Seokjin

Summary: Based on this post by @foryoufics (She also did her version with Jimin, you can read it in this link <3). Warnings: I guess we can say it's a bit angsty, but it also has fluff! Jin is a sweetheart and tries to comfort his wife because he can't stand to see the love of his life sad. Pairing: Fem!reader x Kim Seokjin Word count: 2.3k Permanent Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics @tan-veee @angellekookie @madussthoughts Dividers by @kodaswrld

This day had been more exhausting than any other. You were used to carrying the weight of everything, filling your mind with questions generated by your anxiety that made you overthink everything over and over again: Am I enough? Am I trying too hard? What have I done wrong? Those, and hundreds of other questions, made your insecurity take over every corner of your mind.

And honestly, you were so tired of it all.

“Y/N…” your father murmured behind you, watching you as your attention remained focused on the oven in front of you. You had spent the last few weeks going back and forth from your house to your father’s café, trying to do everything you could to help him, to be useful, all in hopes that someone, anyone, would notice your efforts.

Customers love this kind of stuff, right? Cakes make people happy, you wanted to make people happy with your work, was that too much to ask?

“I just put the muffins in the oven, so we can’t take them out yet. Should I start making the cookie dough? Mom said they’ve been selling the most these past few days.”

“Y/N, stop.” You felt your father’s hands land firmly on your shoulders, forcing you to shift your focus towards him. You could see it in his face, that look everyone had been giving you these past few days: pity, sadness. You really hated it. “I really appreciate that you want to help, and I’ve enjoyed having you back after all this time apart, but I think it’s time for you to… go home.”

“What do you mean?” you whispered, feeling your heart shrink in your chest at his request. Were you bothering your father now? Were you not being helpful to him either? Had you become a second choice for him as well?

“You’ve been coming here for weeks, working nonstop, we barely have time for ourselves…” He paused before continuing, his eyes, although hesitant, stayed locked on yours. “You barely have time for yourself. You’re still so young, you have a life out there, a husband, friends… You shouldn’t be wasting your time with your parents. We’ve lived a whole life with you, it’s time for you to start living yours, sweetheart.”

Ah.

You wanted to cry again.

How could you explain to your father that he was wrong about most things?

You had no friends, at least not any who cared in the same way you cared for them. You felt like your life was crumbling little by little, like you had built a house of bricks that you kept demolishing because one of them didn’t fit with the others. And your husband… Ah, Jin, your dear husband.

Thinking about him brought you a little peace. For a second, you felt the pressure in your chest become a little more bearable; Jin loved you, he always had, he was one of the few people who always put you first. You were always his first choice, even when dozens of women were in love with him. He was always there for you when your mind played tricks on you, and he was always patient with you, even when you couldn’t be with yourself.

You loved Jin, and he loved you, and that gave you a deep peace amidst the storm that was your mind.

“I’ve called him to come pick you up, he should be here soon,” your father’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you quickly refocused on him as he came closer to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “Go home and rest for a bit, okay?”

You let out a soft sigh, one that sounded just like how you felt: exhausted. “Alright… thank you.”

Your eyes began to sting the moment his arms enveloped you in a warm hug. This was exactly why you came here. The warmth of home, the security your parents gave you, the fact that no matter what happened, you would always be their daughter, someone irreplaceable, someone they would always love.

You squeezed your father’s sturdy body against yours, using all your strength, holding onto his shirt as if you were that little girl again who would come crying to her parents’ room after a nightmare, needing the comfort of the only people who could protect her from the horrors of the outside world.

The soft ringing of a bell followed by the sound of the door closing caught your attention. You barely peeked your face from your father’s neck, just enough to see who it was. You almost let out a sob when you saw Jin standing in the doorway, looking like he had just run a marathon.

Had he really come here running just to pick you up?

“Sorry for the delay, traffic was crazy,” he let out a laugh, not the usual one that made everyone around him laugh, but one more nervous, as if he wanted to lighten the mood with a poor attempt at humor. “Uh… are you ready to go or…?”

“No, no, I’m… I’m ready,” you murmured, letting go of your father’s shirt and saying goodbye with a barely perceptible smile. “Goodbye, Dad, see you later,” you gently patted his shoulders, a small part of you still refusing to let him go completely, maybe that inner child that still lived within you, needing the shelter of your parents. On the other hand, the more mature side of you, the one that governed most of you, knew you couldn’t stay here baking cakes and cookies forever.

So, you let him go.

“Let’s go,” you said quietly to Jin, walking straight to the door to leave the place. The suffocating feeling was hard to shake off, even when you were outdoors, and the slight pressure in your chest was becoming more unbearable. You had barely stepped outside, and already felt like you were about to crumble.

“Sweetheart,” Jin’s voice sounded far away to you, was it your imagination? Had you walked too far? Had your thoughts become so loud that even the voices of real people now seemed muffled and lifeless? “Why don’t we sit down for a second?”

You didn’t respond before his hands took yours and guided you to a small bench in the park just a few meters from your parents’ café. When had you walked so far?

His soft hands gently held yours as he helped you sit down on the bench. Your tumultuous and overwhelming thoughts, although still present, seemed to shrink into a small corner of your mind, allowing you to return to the real world. Allowing you to see Jin.

His dark brown eyes watched your face with attention, and one of his hands had risen to your cheek without you noticing. His touch made you melt into him the moment your brain fully processed what he was doing. It felt good to have him close.

“I’m not going to pressure you or anything, because I don’t want your little head playing against you more than it already has, so I’ll ask you this question, and if you don’t want to answer it, then we’ll just go on as if nothing happened until the moment you’re ready, okay?” A small smile appeared on his plump lips when he saw you nodding quietly. Well, at least you were listening, that was progress. “Can you tell me why you’re like this?”

“I… I don’t know,” you whispered with a broken voice. You hated that question, hated the answer, and hated how the urge to cry began to flood you again to the point where even breathing became hard, like the pain in your chest grew stronger, and how you couldn’t see clearly due to the salty water beginning to form in your eyes.

You hated feeling like this.

“Are you sure?” Jin asked, tilting his head slightly so he wouldn’t lose eye contact with you. It was only then, when you saw the worry in his face, that you broke down.

Finally, you let everything you had inside pour out in the form of a messy cry, cheeks filled with tears and soft gasps hidden between sobs that made it hard to speak normally. The only comfort you had were Jin’s strong and warm arms wrapped around your body protectively, trying to calm your sadness with sweet words, soft kisses on your shoulder, and caresses on your back.

You were a walking mess right now, yes, but, for some reason, it felt comforting. Crying on the shoulder of one of the most important people to you, letting out the pain that had been in your chest… it felt liberating.

“It’s okay… everything will be okay,” he whispered beside your ear, using one of his hands to stroke your hair. You could feel his head resting against yours and his hands holding you tightly against him, as if he knew you felt like you were going to collapse at any moment.

“I feel so… so alone,” you groaned between sobs, hiding your face in that area where his neck met his shoulder. The hiccups became more constant, making it really hard for you to speak, but that didn’t stop you, not now that you could finally get it out of your mind. “I’ve tried everything, Jin, but no matter how hard I try, no matter how many times I try… it’s never enough.” You clenched your jaw, trying to stop a sob from escaping too loudly; you were still aware enough to remember you were in a public place. “I’m never enough for anyone.”

“Hey, hey,” he pulled away slightly from you, creating enough distance to take your cheeks in his hands so he could look you in the eyes. “Sweetheart, look at me.” His warm, soft thumbs wiped away the stream of tears falling from your eyes, and although he couldn’t stop the sobs from escaping, the way he caressed your face managed to calm your crying a bit. “What are you talking about? What do you mean by that?”

“It’s just that… I’ve tried everything to be what everyone always expects. I always gave my best to fit in with other people and no matter how much I try, it never seems to work," you said, your voice shaky, your eyes avoiding Jin's every few seconds because you were completely incapable of looking him in the eye. "I'm always the second choice, Jin. No one has ever truly considered me; Seojoon always invites Seulgi to his outings and only turns to me when she cancels, the same happens with Jumin and Seyeon and with absolutely all of my friends." You covered your eyes with your hands, just like a five-year-old child trying to wipe away tears or hide their gaze. "Am I that unpleasant? Is it really that hard to think of me as someone other than the replacement for someone else?"

"Of course not," he quickly shook his head, frowning when he heard your concern. Jin had known you’d been having some issues with your friends lately; he figured it out when you started going to your parents' café, but he never thought it was because of the insecurity their actions were causing you. "It's not hard to love you, of course it’s not! Loving you is as easy as breathing, it’s... it’s something you do unconsciously, that's it!" He moved his face closer to yours, gently pressing your foreheads together. "I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding, but even if it's not, what does it matter what they think? Other people's decisions don't define your worth."

"But—"

"No, Y/N, no buts," he said with the softest voice he could, lifting your face so he could kiss your forehead. "You are the sweetest, most thoughtful, and loving woman I’ve ever met in my life; you are my best friend, my wife, the love of my life, and I won’t let you speak ill of someone so important to me because of idiots who don’t know how to value the wonderful friend they have." He couldn't help but smile when he heard you let out a soft laugh at his comment. Good, he had managed to calm your tears a little. "Friends come and go, if they really loved you, they’d stay by your side through the good and the bad... maybe you haven't found the right people yet, but you’re still young, you still have time to find a circle where you’re accepted for who you are, not for who you pretend to be to please them." He gently stroked your cheeks, watching as your red nose scrunched up slightly and your brow furrowed. "And until then, I’ll be by your side, I’ll take care of you at all times because you are my best friend, and I’ll be with you no matter what, understood?"

You took a deep breath. Slowly, you counted to 10, regulating your breathing as best as you could. Then, you nodded. "Understood."

"Good, then," he stood up from the floor, taking your hands to help you up from the bench, never stopping the gentle caress of your knuckles. "What do you think about going home, I’ll make your favorite food, and we can watch a couple of movies until we fall asleep?"

You smiled faintly, watching as your husband smiled back at you cheerfully, as if you didn’t look like a complete mess at the moment.

"That sounds perfect," you murmured, giving his hands a soft squeeze before starting to walk back to where his car was parked.

Jin glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noticing how your gaze stayed low and melancholic, but less depressed than before. He knew it would take time to lift that weight from your heart completely, but he was willing to wait and help in any way he could to make that fear disappear.

Masterlist.

[cosmmicdancer]

The people want to know- please share Jean Andrew thoughts 👀👀👀

hello anon, thank u for coming into my inbox and giving me the excuse to share more about my jeandrew au that's been living in my head rent free for the past few weeks

you can read the jeandrew fic i posted for kinkuary here

it got real long so im gonna put it under the cut, hope u enjoy <333

- in this au kevneil get together in college, andrew is their best friend. Jean still leaves the nest and goes to the trojans

- jean and andrew get drafted to the same pro team, neither of them interact much, maybe a nod or half smile after a good play. stays that way until they play kevin amd neils team, who invite them out after the game. kevneil are being argumentative and flirty so jean keeps making sarcastic comments under his breath and andrew doesnt laugh but he does buy jean drinks for the rest of the night

- they start bonding at an away match when neither of them can sleep they don't talk much but there's an understanding

- they're fwb whilst they play for the same team & the mutual understanding of their similar trauma allows them to experiment sexually in a safe environment

- andrew gets drafted away after a couple of seasons, cue both of them pining because turns out they def want to be more than friends

- jean flies out to whichever state andrew ends up at, legit romcom moment, standing in the rain, jean has a bunch of flowers because he is a romantic goddamit

- andrew is fucking obsessed with thia giant stood on his doorstep like a bedraggled cat & hates that he absolutely loves the fact that jean wants to romance him

- cue years of long distance, whilst they play on different teams. when they both retire they move in together, in the same city kevneil are still play. renee and jeremy are also close by. family finally together yayayyaya.

- their favourite date night is going to their local pretentious arthouse cinema then going for ice cream afterwards and shit talking whatever they saw

- jean write andrew poems, which andrew never mentions but keeps in a box in his bedside table

- they both love watching cooking shows, and andrew recreates whatever jean seems most interesting in

- kev and neil get cats and neil is convinced that cats are the source of pure happiness so when jeandrew are still long distance neil shows up on andrews doorstep with a cat hands it over without a word

- he does the same thing to jean

- kevneil love to argue about who clocked jeandrew first but what they don't know is that renee placed a bet on them with jeremy the second andrew started on jeans team

- jean is the only person andrew would ever submit to in the bedroom and jean takes this v seriously

- Andrew drives most of their d/s dynamic, jean only feels comfortable trying things that andrew wants

- jean will eventually ask for things but not until a few years into their retirement

- once they retire they get a dog, and then another one, and then another cat

- all of their pets come from Neil showing up, knowing exactly who can look after a small animal that needs a gentle home

- jeans favourite part of retirement is taking the dogs out on a hike, andrew refuses to go but saves all the photos jean sends him from his walks to a special folder in his phone

[shhrrroooommmmmyyyyyy]

my hc of our birbs

apologies for not posting in a while. adjusting to my new semester has left me quite busy. thought of this prompt last week. this is basically just my interpretations of the dynamics these three have among each other based on their interactions in the show. enjoy!

Stolas and Andrealphus

Easiest start at face value.

Obviously, these two don't like each other. But my biggest question has always been, exactly, why? Now Stella obviously has a big part to play in it, but let's remove her from the picture for a second.

I think Stolas and Andrealphus' relationship says more about Andrealphus than it does Stolas. The way Andrealphus treated Stolas even before Mastermind was with blunt discourtesy. So naturally Stolas, like anyone else would, gave it right back to him like the queen he is. But what about Andrealphus' side of that coin?

His hatred for Stolas, which we really saw the extent of in Sinsmas, cannot simply be just cause he doesn't like him or thinks he's cringe and it's not just Stella's influence. After looking back at their interaction in Western Energy, I think it's envy. It's the way he, when having the room during Mastermind, immediately suggests that he gets everything Stolas has (his title, his house, his servants, literally every possession he owns). He basically becomes Stolas' replacement in the family at that point.

Knowing Viv's writing, Andrealphus is more than likely going to have a sad backstory that connects to why he hates Stolas so much. Now I have nothing to back this up really, other than psychological reasoning and a writer's perspective, but my HC is that Andrealphus may have come second to Stolas in something or had been compared to Stolas in some way that particularly stuck with him early on.

And if his hate for Stolas goes back to childhood, Stella's hate for Stolas would make more sense. Growing up hating someone because it's what her cool -literally- older brother was doing. And then being stuck with said someone for the rest of your life. Cause in the Circus, I didn't get the impression that Stolas reciprocated her impudence before the first full moon. He even said he tried to make it comfortable for them, so I assume he was somewhat nice to her before the divorce.

Anyways, I think there's definitely a reason for Andrealphus' hate for Stolas that will be brought up later on. I'm so excited to see his motives.

Andrealphus and Vassago

I, as well as arguably the majority of the fans, definitely see that these two have a backstory. Their dialogue towards each other and the tone of their voices say it all.

Throughout their Mastermind argument, Vassago's speech definitely has more aggression and spite. His body language almost gives off "accusatory" towards Andrealphus. And Andrealphus responds with a more "change the subject before I look bad" kind of demeanor. And then Vassago just gives up like "i'm done with his bullshit 🙄".

My HC is that this is foreshadowing. I imagine they were friends before and Andrealphus did something that really hurt Vassago's feelings. And when Vassago confronts him about it, he just plays the victim or tries to change the subject. And Vassago said "i'm done fr" and then they weren't friends anymore. And Vassago's still sour abt it to this day -as he should be.

This is definitely the face of "what's he trying to bullshit now?"

And lastly.

Vassago and Stolas

The way Vassago said "Sing it, baby!" and Stolas having an awkward like "who was that?" kinda expression afterwards is where my HC came from.

I've seen a lot of people dismiss Vassago defending Stolas as just him wanting to do the right thing or disliking the clear injustice he was seeing. But I think there's more to it than that. If you look back at the clip, nothing he said really pointed to anything other than Stolas. He didn't say much about the actual trial at all; he just said Stolas should be there. And he was quite persistent about it until Andrealphus stopped arguing and just told him to shut up.

And Stolas's expression was kinda shocked and confused, almost like he didn't really know him that well and wasn't expecting it bc of that.

That's the dynamic I get from these two. I think maybe Vassago might admire Stolas from afar in a way because, while he has to hide it to some extent, he's definitely not consciously stuck-up and snobby like the rest of his family. Maybe he admires how naturally kind of a person he is behind the formalities of the image.

Maybe it was something like a small crush when they were teenagers that Stolas never noticed cause Vassago never told him and eventually grew out of it as an adult. That's my favorite HC. Stolas never noticing him cause he just stuck to himself and thought no one really cared about him, when someone was admiring his every move from a distance.

Bonus points if Vassago and his arranged partner were friends and didn't like-like eachother but were on good terms and whoever she was knew and would make fun of him for it (in a humorous way, not in a rude way).

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Anyways, I need to start my homework. Feedback and/or differing opinions are encouraged and welcome in the comments!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

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.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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.

[flipflopmasterr]

"happy birthday to me."

[pinbones]

I've seen a few posts about women and pants now and many of them are very good, and not to nitpick those posts or downplay religious sexism or anything, but I have to emphasise:

Somebody who DOESN'T live in a controlling religious country/cult/family is also affected by sexism. We all know that, right? Secular parts of the first world also have opinions about how women dress, including when it comes to trousers, especially in childhood and in institutions like schools and the workplace

Me and many people my age (20s) remember being forced into skirts, punished and shamed by parents & teachers & peers & possibly then bosses about what we wear not being feminine enough, and it wasn't by deeply religious sects. Many updates to dress codes are very new and sexist views are still in place in many institutions. Normalised societal misogyny wants women (and people they want to treat as women) to dress femininely, down to what KIND of pants they're allowed to wear (compare a pink top and jeggings to mens jeans and tell me these two women are treated the same. Hating women in pantsuits is still a sexist office joke today, and even those outfits are feminine compared to male suits, which raise eyebrows when worn by women). The women I know who wear trousers regularly are literally otherwise feminine, and all wear dresses to events.

I know trousers have become much more normalised over the past few decades in secular society (yay!! the result of many many years of effort and lawbreaking) but let's not be absolute when we talk about the pants concept lol. Especially within a larger conversation about female/transmasc/intersex/transfem masculinity and social perceptions, especially in an age of rising fascism

[umblrspectrum]

do you ever like wanna make something cool but you dont know how so you just sit around like a moron for 5 hours straight pretending you know how

me neither

on a more serious note i know ad astra as a whole isnt over but i still want to thank daybreaker for their fics. what friends are for was the very first md fic i ever stumbled upon when trying out ao3 for the first time, and prior to joining the server i was checking it near daily for uploads. god knows if i'd be as deep in ao3 as i am now if it werent for this story and convenient timing. Thanks for the story.