#now this post is like seeing an old friend

[ramp-it-up]

Peach, Part IV

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. And now he is in love. With you. He wants to move forward with you and now he's got you on his turf.

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two with my whole heart. This is turning into the slowest of burns, sorry not sorry. This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Bucky Barnes fic Worth the Fall and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III. We're at the second week of December, there is still so much in my head to say. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, body parts tingling, wild wild thoughts of breeding, taking each other down in various ways, and cock riding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

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--------

On one of your many walks along the beach, you teased your cousin about being the future Mrs. Bucky Barnes, and she tried to get you to talk about Steve, explaining some of the backstory to what happened in Atlanta.

But you were intransigent. 

“Look. I know how stubborn you are. And how tough you are, because you’ve had to be. But I also know how big your heart is and how worthy you are of love. You are passing up on the chance to find your one true love.”

You scoffed.

“Love? Everyone can’t be all starry eyed and head over heels like you and Bunny boy.”

She laughed and shook her head at your nickname for Bucky, who you’d grown to like a lot over the weekend. 

“And Steven, disguised at Grant, just wanted to get in my panties, which he achieved.”

You looked toward the waves as you thought about how Grant got you to see fireworks that night in your apartment, and the things Steve said that he wanted to do to you the other night.

“I have no doubt that Steve Rogers wants to fuck you girl. Look at you. You are fine as fuck.”

You laughed at your cousin dressing you down and gassing you up at the same time. 

“But let’s be clear. You wanted to fuck him too. You still do. I see the way you look at him.”

“Hey! I didn’t lie–”

“Ah-ah!”

She silenced you with a finger.

“I know he lied about who he was, but were you completely honest with him? Totally?”

You side eyed your cousin as you imagined strangling her. But you weren’t eleven years old anymore.

And she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Steve lied, but he wants to make amends. He has feelings for you.”

You gave your cousin a side eye.

“Did he tell you that? And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

She put her arm around you and pulled you close as you walked. 

“Listen, I know you are guarding your heart, but I know Steve. He’s got this exterior that seems one way, but he will surprise you. He’s a really, really good guy.”

You sighed, still not there yet.

“I’m good on that, cousin.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him that you have a heart of stone and that he should move on. It’s not like there aren’t bitches lined up to suck his dick every day in the city…”

A jolt of jealousy zipped through you, but you pushed it down. You just took a deep breath and gave her an overly bright smile. 

“I don’t care who slobs on his lil’ knob.”

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Riiggght, cousin. Anyway. You are still taking the endowment money right?”

You raised your eyebrow at her and nodded.

“Nothing is going to get in the way of this dream, cousin.”

She grinned back at you, almost as bright as the sun.

“That’s my girl! We gon’ have a time in New York City…”

—

Sunday morning before you drove back to Atlanta, you went to the kitchen just as Steve came back in from a run on the beach. The rest of the family was going to Church and then he, Bucky and your cousin were going to fly back to New York on the private jet. 

“Hey.”

He chucked his chin up at you like you were one of his bros.

The audacity. 

“Hello.”

You kept it cute as he moved around you to grab a glass to get some water from the tap. The scent of sweat, ocean air, and him wrapped around you and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes to savor it. It was like you were lost. 

You opened your eyes to find him watching you as he downed the glass in one gulp, a drop of water escaping and rolling down his chin to his neck and disappearing into the already wet collar of his tight t-shirt.

You cleared your throat as he maintained eye contact with you and wiped his lips with his thumb, and some unseen force made you watch those thick fingers that felt you up not a month before, your nipples tight and panties wet.

Damn, this man and his effect on you.

You stared as his eyes swept down your body as if he knew what you looked like naked. He had seen you dance, and felt you up over and under your clothes, but that wasn’t what the look of possession was about. 

This man wanted you.

—-

Steve almost ran back outside when he saw you in the kitchen as he came in. He’s taken a run to calm the erection he had when he woke up because of you, and now, here you were, dressed almost exactly the same as when he had the opportunity to kiss you and make you cum in his arms exactly 29 days earlier.

Yes, he was keeping count.

Steve was practically speechless, yet he managed to get out a crude, ‘Hey’ and a head motion as a greeting. What was that?

He wanted close to you, to feel your skin against his lips again, to check and see if you were wet, which you were judging from your slightly open lips and blown pupils. He didn’t go near you as he got a drink however, because no matter how much he was into knife and gun play, he wasn’t going there. 

Steve wanted in your heart, not just your pants.

When you closed your eyes and visibly inhaled (probably to calm your anger, he imagined), he used the opportunity to watch your chest rise and watch the sunlight play on your skin. Those beautiful eyes caused his heart to clench when you opened them and he couldn’t tear his away as he drank his water. 

Which he needed at the moment. Desperately.

Unconsciously, he wiped his lips with his thumb, remembering the texture of you as he did so. You cleared your throat, snapping him out of it.

“Peach…”

He stopped, waiting for your retort. You just stood there, expectant and although he was shocked as shit, he continued.

“I want to apologize for lying to you and for allowing things to get…physical while you believed a lie.”

You watched him for what seemed like a long time, but was really only seconds.

“I accept your apology, Steve, and I believe in forgiveness, if only for myself being able to move on, but I’m not ready to forget or fully trust you.” Steve nodded.

“I get it. I’m really sorry.”

You shrugged.

“I know you were trying to help Bucky get clean for my cousin, and I love her big, so, I can’t stay mad. And it’s clear that you are ride or die for those you love.”

And then you cocked your head at him in that adorable way and his heart crumbled into the sparkly bits of honey in your eyes. 

“I feel like you love my cousin. Like family. So I guess that makes us family too.”

When you gave him a small smile, he smiled back dreamily. He was a teenage boy in your presence.

“I guess you’re right.”

Steve thought of family and a vision of you as a mother had him in a chokehold. You had him raging hard and wanting to bend you over the kitchen island and breed you until his seed dripped down your legs. Instead, he moved behind it to hide his condition. 

“We will have to be in contact because of the endowment, which I am taking because of my students and the fact that it’s been my dream since I was 12 years old. It was then that I started being told that I was all wrong. My ass was too big. My breasts were too bouncy. I didn’t have a ‘desirable dance body.’” 

Steve’s eyes openly scanned you. He looked angry, then scoffed. 

“That's ridiculous.” 

“Of course it is.” 

“Don't change a thing. That would be criminal.” 

You paused and then gave him a slightly larger smile then.

“Believe me, I'm not planning to change myself. I’m planning on changing the world.” 

Steve stared at you, astounded at your fierce courage. No one else could compare.

“I’m serious. I know that sounds grandiose, but I want to leave my mark. I started a dance company so that any body with talent can get on a stage and have a career, regardless of their shape and size. That’s why I’m accepting the endowment. We can be business partners if it means those dreams can come true.”

You were a force. Damn, that only made Steve love you more.

“Brava, Peach.”

You stared back into those baby blues and coughed, trying to clear your throat from the lump that had formed there. Your goals and dreams always made you get intense.

“Need some water?”

Steve was already reaching for another glass. His eyes went wide as you reached for his and finished off what was left in it. He almost came at the thought of your lips where his had been. Holy mother of god.

“That hit the spot, thanks.”

You licked your lips and he nearly fainted, and as you turned toward the stairs, giving him a view of your backside, and looked back at him, he almost ethered to the sky.

“See you next week, Mr. Rogers. Have a safe flight.”

—-

Steve felt frantic the entire seven days leading up to the day he’d see you again. He and Sam and Nat and Bucky had lots of work to do, but he felt like a bumbling idiot, because his perfectionism was getting in the way. 

Bucky saw the barriers Steve’s mind was putting in his way and spent extra time helping him. That’s why Bucky was his brother, Steve’s only family since his mother died when he was a kid.

They worked day and night, it seemed, to be ready for the summit.

Steve managed to take a few minutes to himself each night, sketching before he slept. The images of you that came from the lead of his pencil soothing his spirit and filling his dreams. They also caused him to wake up with a stiff reminder of your feel and smell in his nostrils.

Steve Rogers couldn’t wait to see his Peach again.

—--

You kept checking the emailed itinerary on the phone as you tried to relax in business class. All of the endowment recipients were arriving in New York around the same time period in the afternoon, and you were being picked up and chauffeured to your hotel, then three hours later, to a reception at a club in the Rebirth Building. 

Then, you would be left to your own devices for dinner and to turn in or turn up. Turning up with your cousin was the only option.

You decided to try and catch some zzzz’s on the plane so you wouldn’t be too tired later. You also wanted to calm your nerves. This was a big deal for your dance school, you told yourself. You weren’t nervous about seeing Steve Rogers again on his turf. 

Not at all. 

—---

The driver that picked you up from the airport, complete with your name on a placard, Nico, was super nice.  You were surprised that your cousin was in the car. You two squealed and talked and laughed on the way, and you were in such a good mood that you didn’t pay much attention when she addressed him by his first name very familiarly. He must be a very friendly guy.

Your check-in at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn was a breeze. The concierge let you know that you checked in at the right time; you happened to be upgraded to a one bedroom suite with a view of the New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. The king sized bed looked like a dream, so you took a nap before you got ready for the evening. You wanted to be at your best amongst the other five Endowment awardees.

—-

You walked into the bar, Bea, and you were struck at how gorgeous it was, and how masculine.

There was rich mahogany wood everywhere, and the bartop material was a dark black honed marble. There were luxurious upholstered leather chairs and booths throughout and floor to ceiling wine coolers. 

You were looking around in awe as a young woman came up and handed you a name tag.

“You must be Ms. YLN. Welcome.”

You greeted her as your cousin smirked at you. She grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing wait staff.

“How…”

You gaped at her.

“All staff have been briefed on all of you. Nothing but the best this week.”

“Oh. Okay…” She giggled as you continued your inspection of the place. Steve and ‘nem had more money than you thought. A lot more. A thought crossed your mind.

“Wait. Do you work for them?”

You narrowed your eyes at your cousin as she rolled hers.

“Well, tangentially. Bucky funded our Howard Benson exhibit at the Center and so I’ve worked with Rebirth on some Harlem Renaissance initiatives around Brooklyn and the other boroughs. I’ve also een helping Bucky and the crew prepare for this week.”

“Ah. Okay.”

You took a sip of your drink and continued your perusal.

It was your cousin’s turn now.

“Listen, bitch.You’ve got to chill. No one is out to get you, especially me.”

Your cousin looked halfway angry. But she was still adorable.

“You’re so fucking cute. Love looks good on you.”

You smiled at her serenely and she shook her head at you, knowing you too well. 

“Don’t give me your shit, Peach. I was there in Hilton Head. You will act like you have some sense.”

“I’m civilized, cousin. Steve and I had a talk before I left. I’m chilling.”

“You better.”

She pointed to the gathering crowd in the room.

“Now go network.”

—--

Your laugh. It gave Steve goosebumps.

He hadn’t heard your full laugh much in Atlanta, just some low, sexy chuckles, because you two hadn’t talked much. And you certainly weren’t happy when he showed up at your family’s house. But you seemed much more relaxed this evening and Steve decided that it was his favorite thing in the world.

He spotted you as soon as you walked in with your cousin and she was beautiful as always. 

But you.

When you finally noticed him, you seemed surprised, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, but not angry at all. He gained hope, and stood up straight, wondering if he looked good to you because you were certainly a vision to his eyes. 

The outfit you were wearing was classy, yet could not hide that body from the eyes that studied it every chance he got. Which was every time he saw you.

As you mingled, and he shmoozed, he consistently had to force his eyes away from your tempting curves, your gorgeous face, the sound of your voice. And that fucking laugh. It wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed, seeped into his soul and spread warmth. 

Not to mention the effect you had on his cock. 

You were a fucking vision in black wide-legged leather pants and a plain white tee that hugged your mouthwatering tits, accessorized with red pointy heels a red clutch and an off white wool trench coat. The edgy outfit was very appropriate for the art world and although you were all covered up, your body wasn’t hidden from him, only accentuated. To top it off, your normally coily hair was straightened and loosely curled, calling for his fingers to slide through the thick strands. 

It’s your eyes that got to him, though, those fucking beautiful eyes that he longed to see hazy with the pleasure he was giving you. He maintained eye contact with you as he thought his lurid thoughts, and raised his drink in a salute. You smiled at him and raised your drink in response and his heart soared.

Although he wanted to be near you immediately, he decided to give you some space. He didn’t want to force anything. Well, maybe he wanted to force his thick cock into your tiny cunt. 

He licked his lips, then shook his head and scowled at Bucky as he noticed Steve staring at you. But he didn’t stop.

Careful now, Steve told himself. Take it slow. 

—--

You mingled and met some of your fellow recipients. They were a diverse group of people from all over the country, but most seemed type cool. There was one who latched on to you, Sharon Carter. She was a photographer from Memphis and was very chatty. She was glued to your side as you made the rounds and you weren’t too mad. She just didn’t shut up.

“How do you like your room? A double with a view of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. And after a three hour coach flight. Fancy.”

You sipped your drink and Sharon’s sarcasm. Your mind started whirling.

“Get a load of those beautiful people right there. Those are our benefactors.”

You looked to where she was indicating and were surprised to see Steve standing with Bucky, another tall handsome man with a low cut fade, and a petite fit redhead woman. They all looked to belong on a movie poster.

But Steve.

He was leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his broad chest, perfectly tailored dark green sport coat and black wool sweater, hugging his broad shoulders and trim waist like nobody’s business. His dark slacks were hanging on for dear life to those massive thighs, and his thick dark blond hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. You liked his hair cut short in the back with the length on top. There was still something to grab on to.

Damn him. It should be illegal for a man to look that fucking good, especially at this hour, with you already having had two glasses of champagne.…

You caught eye contact with Steve and your world spun for a second as you connected across the room. His eyes… God, his eyes. 

Those steely blues were blazing with a heat that you could feel in your pussy, somehow containing a hunger that threatened to consume you. He stood up straight, and if you didn’ know any better, you would have thought that he flexed a little as he stared at you. Your pussy thought so, but your brain thought he wouldn’t try to hurt you like that. 

He did, however, raise his glass to you and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

You turned your attention to Bucky as he started to speak, and grabbed a bottle of water from a waiter, thinking you needed a clear head when you had to actually talk to Steve and not just acknowledge him from across the room.

"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Rebirth Art Foundation’s annual celebration of creativity and innovation in the arts. This is a gathering to honor six extraordinary artists whose talent, vision, and hard work have earned them a place among the most promising creators of our time….”

You watched your cousin who was totally enraptured by what Bucky was saying. You got a warm feeling as you saw what true love looked like. You smirked as you saw her make her way over to him as Nat stepped up to speak. You were so happy for your fam. 

“Now Bucky Barnes is a snack. Wonder if he’s taken?”

You side eyed the hussy and then pointed at your cousin, who hadn’t made it to Bucky yet.

“I think that’s his wife or something right there.”

Sharon took a sip of her drink and wrinkled her nose.

“Ha! Nice joke. But I don’t think they go together, meaning they don’t match. Get it?”

You stared daggers at her. This bitch. Then you glanced at your cousin and her man again.

“You might want to tell him that, because he looks like he’s about to take her tonsils out with his tongue.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open to see them making out in a corner. You couldn’t help but laugh as she shrugged, then brightened when Steve gained the mic. 

“Never mind him. Steve Rogers is the entire meal. I have it on good authority that his dick is big.”

You looked from her to Steve, a sinking feeling in your stomach. Were you going to catch a case in New York City over a man that was not your man?

Or was he your man?

“Good evening, and welcome. It’s an honor to have you all here as we celebrate six incredible artists who are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in the art world and are poised to change the entire world.”

Steve looked straight at you then, and you held his gaze for that fraction of a second as he raised his eyebrow as electricity zapped between you before his eyes continued around the room. 

Sharon was forgotten momentarily and you bit your lip. Whew. You had to refrain from fanning yourself as he continued.

“At Rebirth, we believe that art is more than just a medium—it’s a force that connects us, challenges us, and shapes our future. This week, I encourage you to not only take in everything around you but also to share your unique perspectives. Creation, art, and collaboration are the soul of this foundation, and I’m excited to see what bonds form this week. Congratulations once again, and let’s make something amazing together!”

“Come on, now is the time to meet them. Maybe I can make something amazing with Steve Rogers tonight.”

You let yourself be dragged over to where the four were standing as Sam was finishing his welcome and you introduced yourself to each as you tried to listen to Sharon simping.

Each person smiled warmly at you, and Bucky pulled you in for a hug, which made Sharon side eye you both, but only for a moment as her attention turned to Steve.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m Sharon Carter. You know my Aunt Peggy.”

Steve blanched.

“Peggy? Your… Aunt?”

Sharon laughed, a little shrilly to your ears.

“Yes. She’s my mother’s half sister. Born to the second wife, 18 years younger than my mom. They weren’t that close. But Peggy and I are just like sisters.”

“Oh.”

Steve looked a little trapped.

“Didn’t know that. It’s a small world.”

Peggy leaned closer to him, but you heard her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t share the secrets she told me…”

Steve looked at her like she was crazy and then looked at you, almost in panic. You could see the anxiety in his eyes, so you decided to rescue him.

“Mr. Rogers. Hi. ”

The huskiness of your voice, the way his name sounded on your tongue. It calmed him and sent a lightning bolt of desire through him. Steve wanted to hear you call him that in a very different context.

Steve’s face changed when he looked at you. He shifted toward you, much to Sharon’s chagrin.

“My name is Y/N Y/LN, and it’s so good to finally meet you. I hope that this is the start of a great partnership.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow at you and smiled as you took his hand. You initiating touch with him was the start of his wet dreams of late. His thumb stroked your hand as he held it. 

“I hope so too, Ms. Y/LN. I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”

“Please, call me Peach, Mr. Rogers.”

Nat came around and distracted Sharon as Steve put his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the side of the bar to talk. His smell enveloped you and his touch had you walking carefully, because your knees were weak.

“What did you want to talk about Mr. Rogers?”

He shook his head, his eyes dark now.

“Call me Steve, Peach, please.”

His voice was rougher, and impossibly deeper as he begged, and it sent chills straight to your pussy. You cocked your head and he in turn licked his lips.

“Why?”

“Because if you keep calling me Mr. Rogers, I–”

He stopped and your lust-addled brain filled in the gaps. Your lips parted on a soft inhale. Steve, on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

And then exhaled slowly.

“How was your flight?”

Steve thought it best to talk of the mundane, because he was half a second from bending you over the bar in front of all these people. 

“It was… great. I appreciated the business class seat.”

His eyebrow shot up.

“You got upgraded? How fortunate.”

“Ummmmhmmm. So you didn’t know?”

“Promise.”

Steve’s mouth quirked up in a half smile, because he knew you didn’t trust him, but you were so cute when you were grilling him.

“And you didn’t know about the upgrade at the hotel?”

“No…”

“I have a king suite with a killer view of the city.”

Steve grinned now and you almost shielded your eyes.

“Seems you’re lucky.”

You stared into his eyes to see if he was lying, but you didn’t see anything there but feelings you didn’t want to name. But because of your history, you still didn’t trust what he said. Nevertheless, you decided to let it go. There was something else you needed to know.

“So, who’s Peggy?”

Steve grimaced.

“She’s someone I knew a long time ago. We were close. Once. But not anymore.”

You just kept looking at him.

“She’s moved on, married to a rich guy on the west coast. And I’ve moved on as well.”

You straightened up as he gazed down at you. You didn’t know why you cared so much. And you didn’t want to analyze his last sentence.

“Oh.”

Now, Steve was smiling down at you like he thought you were jealous.

Which was absurd. 

And he looked as if he was happy about that ridiculous idea.

You were right.

Steve was jumping for joy on the inside at the way you reacted to hearing about Peggy. He didn’t expect to think about her, much less have to explain her to you tonight, but if it led to you realizing you had feelings for him, he was glad of Sharon’s connection. And the way she ran her mouth, although it was annoying.

“You good, Peach?”

You weren’t good. You found yourself wanting to show Steve your suite, especially the ceiling, as you rode his cock on the king sized bed so as to make him forget about any other pussy ever existing. But you must have been tweaking.

You needed to get out of there.

You turned around and went to find your cousin.

“I’m great Mr. Rogers. You have a good night.”

And Steve was left watching you walk away again.

——

Please comment, reblog and like to feed the writer! 😜

[oh-no-its-bird]

Ok so, thinking about this post, specifically the "dumb au where the Uchiha just really like Kakashi for some reason (clan stuff??)" part, and it got me thinking;

AU where the Hatake's have a reputation for being "good luck charm" to the point where some clans view them as genuine symbols of prosperity, and marrying one / getting one to join your family in some way is supposed to bless you, your family, and your fields for as long as they remain yours

Maybe their white chakra specifically is actually some sort of good luck thing? Idk, but like, there's that abstract idea.

"The Hatake, with their steely hair and blessed white chakra said to bless any fortunate enough to see it"

Could totally mash this in with the Sexyman Sakumo agenda and say part of his insane popularity was bc of the rumors about how his bloodline limit is supposed to give fortune to any who might tie him down

Oooo what if after his mission gone wrong, the rumors and reputation twists and suddenly people are saying no, they got it opposite, the Hatake's bring bad luck

Then Sakumo offs himself and Kakashi suddenly has to live with the reputation of being a bad luck charm

Could be fun.

Anyways, rewinding:

Gonna think ab the warring states with this idea first.

So, half Hatake Tobirama, right? Senju Butsama marrying a Hatake woman would be such a power move for him,,,

Oh my god wait ok: Something about the Senju clan and their planty stuff, then marrying a Hatake woman said to bring prosperity to their "clan and crops" is so good.

And then she also goes and proves it right by popping out the first mokuton baby in forever

So fun !!

I like the idea that their luck is said to specifically be in their white chakra, so like. None of the Senju boys being born with white chakra and their dad being upset by it bc that means the luck wasn't passed down. But Tobirama, being an albino, looks pretty Hatake so maybe some of the charm passed onto him...?

(It hadn't, but there's some fun to be had in the belief that it had.)

Tobirama never marries in part because he has no interest in it, and in part because many of those who approached him only wanted him for his supposed 'Hatake Luck'

You could so easily turn this into sort of a parody to a blessed eyes au by rolling with Tobirama having the social flex of being a Hatake, a good luck charm in human form.

Skipping back ahead to Kohona back to Kakashi— umm supposed "bad luck" Hatake Kakashi (to the general population of Kohona) being fuckin pspsps'ed at by the older clans who know Hatake's are good luck and are so trying to get him to join their clan (and bring them luck)

He's an orphan now!!! That means he's free realestate!!! Pspsps cmere little boy come let the nice old clan people adopt you teehee <3

This was meant to be a funny silly lighthearted thing but I can see several ugly paths to take with that actually. Let's stick to lighthearted fun for now tho

Ummm Obito actually survives the rock fall bc of Kakashi's Hatake luck, pass it on. He so should have died but he didn't and it's bc of Kakashi taking him as his "best friend" and suddenly boom, luck.

Ooo maybe when they swap eyes, uh, yk, Kakashi's eye has a bit of white chakra in it and now it's in Obito.

So now Obito suddenly has this double conundrum of "physically has a Hatake's white chakra in him (in his eye, even, which is a culturally and spiritually significant body part to highlight)

And he's considered family by Kakashi, who Kakashi thinks of (and unknowingly sends good luck towards) every day,,,,

Obito's plans keep going so well even when he does a half assed job at them bc of the fucking Hatake blessing Kakashi unknowingly placed on him, pass it on

Alternativley: silly fluffy 'everythings good and nothing hurts' au that's just older Kakashi being aggressively pursued by people both bc hes hot and also the Hatake luck.

Mothers want to adopt him to get him into their clan and fathers want to fuc—

Sorry what was I saying?

Anyways

Good luck charm Kohona sexy man Sakumo and his son Kakashi who grows up into a good luck charm Kohona sexyman himself....

Hatake good luck charm au. Make it happen. I believe in us

[snuffysnuffles]

ELTINGVILLE FAMILY POST (PART 1)

Hi, sorry for not posting in a while, but I’ve been working on this! This was originally for an ask but since the ask was deleted or the persons account was deleted, I’m stuck with just posting it w out the original asker.

But the original ask was: “can we see how the families live their everyday lives? Like as a mini-comic or something”

So I did exactly that. Enjoy reading (and looking at the art)

Morning

- 5:00 AM:

Tony, Reggie, Carlo, Louie, and their dad wake up early for work.

- Tony and Reggie carpool in Tony’s car to the construction site where they work alongside their father.

- Carlo heads out to his butcher job, and Louie goes to the library where he works.

- Breakfast is skipped or grabbed on the go since their mom doesn’t cook for them.

- 6:30 AM:

Pete’s mom gets up to make breakfast, but it’s only for Pete and Olivia since the rest of the family is already gone.

- Pete’s mom is a terrible cook, often dropping random things into the food and dismissing it. (Cigarettes, too much seasoning, whatever.)

- Olivia has no choice but to eat whatever their mom makes, but Pete avoids it entirely. He either pretends he’s not hungry or sneaks something else to eat.

- 7:30-8:00 AM:

Pete wakes up later since he doesn’t have a job yet.

- After breakfast, Pete either heads to school or hangs out with the Eltingville Club.

- Olivia (if it’s a school day) leaves for school too, but if it’s the weekend or a day off, she’s left unsupervised to run around the house or entertain herself.

Midday

- 12:00 PM:

Pete’s mom spends most of her day on the phone with her friends. She doesn’t cook lunch, leaving Pete and Olivia to fend for themselves if they’re home.

- But Pete is usually out by now, so Olivia is left to her own devices, wandering the house or playing with her toys, or doing something extremely dangerous. No one really keeps an eye on her.

Evening

- 5:00-6:00 PM:

The brothers and their dad finish their shifts.

- Tony, Reggie, and their dad come home from the construction site. Tony and Reggie usually bring takeout or groceries since their mom doesn’t cook dinner.

- Carlo finishes up at the butcher shop and meets up with Louie after his library shift. They’ll grab food together and either bring it home or eat out.

- 6:30 PM:

Everyone returns home to unwind:

- Tony is exhausted and crashes on the couch or in his room. (But sometimes he eats with his brothers, or calls Leah for a bit. Aka his girlfriend.)

- Reggie and Louie inevitably start bickering over something stupid, escalating into shouting or physical fights. Or they mellow out together and just hangout for a bit.

- Carlo mostly spectates, occasionally throwing in useless fucking comments that pisses them off more. (FUCK YOU CARLO)

- Olivia is still running around, largely ignored by everyone except Tony, who might check on her briefly.

Night

- 8:30-9:00 PM:

After eating and arguing, the brothers all scatter to their rooms to wind down:

- Tony stays quiet, too tired to deal with anything he just goes to sleep.

- Louie starts night-reading.

- Reggie sneaks out later to hang out with friends, despite being old enough to not need to sneak.

- Carlo relaxes, indifferent to everyone else’s antics.

- 9:30 PM:

Pete comes home late, purposefully avoiding his brothers and father to stay out of trouble.

- Olivia, feeling lonely, tries to talk to Pete, but he always brushes her off, leaving her disappointed and alone.

- 10:00 PM:

Olivia plays quietly with her toys in her room, trying to entertain herself until she gets sleepy.

- The house finally calms down as everyone begins to fall asleep. (Reggie sneaks back in around 3 AM.)

REMEMBER TO READ PART 2!! POSTING IT SHORTLY

[themeaningthemeaningthe]

can’t sleep for other reasons and my brain can’t stop thinking about a post i saw and initially ignored but keep having thoughts about. i didn’t comment on it or anything and now it’s lost to the ether and i don’t wanna go looking for it but these thoughts gotta go somewhere.

this will be long and rambling and probably a little incoherent cuz it’s 3am.

the post was someone saying that they finally picked up gideon the ninth after years of seeing locked tomb posts and griddlehark, then dropped it after like 2 chapters bcuz they think the dynamic between gideon and harrow is abusive (which is fair when u first start it) and they can’t believe people are into it as enemies to lovers. on the one hand, people are totally cool to just not like something for whatever reason, i myself just have thoughts about the Nuance that i didn’t express on the post that i now must here.

lots of important spoilers for GtN!! (and maybe accidentally ones to HtN)

ok here’s the rant.

that’s the point!!!!! that’s the point.

they are terrible to each other and they have always been. the growth and the development of their character dynamics together explores how this thing between them that has always been sharp and seething and spiky must buckle under the weight of outside pressure beyond anything they could have imagined.

in a very important pool scene (one that is ubiquitous in fanart and i have to believe this poster saw at least a few times) we get an explanation from harrow! and not only does this give us a more full look into the context of drearbruh outside of gideons narrow point of view, but it also makes more clear why they were like That.

i’m sorry but literally harrow is 200 dead kids that her parents killed to make her, and gideon is the one kid they couldn’t kill. and gideon realizes once told this, she is the living reminder of the war crime committed to save the house, and no one who knows can forget it.

and harrow has known the truth of her origin since she was old enough to comprehend anything!! so yeah, a traumatized child who knows she’s the entirety of a generation of her house is gonna lash out at literally the only other child on the planet who she happens to also have power over.

and i feel like the book makes this pretty clear!! this was bad!! but also, these are two traumatized kids growing up in a dying, creepy, planet that is lowkey hell.

the other key thing about the pool scene, is that it is a Confession. these books are sooo steeped in catholicism. harrow isn’t just explaining the true history of her life, she is Confessing all of the sins that make her up and all of the sins she has committed. bearing the entirety of the wretchedness of her soul for gideon judge. expecting her only friend whom she has made miserable for years to kill her.

and i know we joke about gideon being lesbian jesus, but there’s a reason for that (besides the obvious). bcuz after hearing her Confession, gideon baptized harrow in that pool.

one flesh one end, bitch.

and also like yeah griddlehark is an enemies to lovers in some ways, but i feel like also not in the typical way you would think about that trope?? bcuz correct me if im wrong but they never really become lovers (and i personally am not sure they ever will). yes they love each other and make the grandest gestures of love imaginable. but that love is inevitably fucked up in some ways and it’s impossible for it to not be.

god that was way too long. anyway. some Nuance is necessary.

[offensiunculaee]

Even When I'm Not With You

Chapter One: The Meeting

modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!reader, college AU, strangers to friends to lovers

Summary: You meet someone in one of your college classes and it's love at first sight.

content warnings: swearing, it's a very modern AU

word count: 5.6k

author's note: this is technically my first fanfic. I began writing it in April of 2024 and only got around to posting it now. This is the backbone of the AU I've maintained in my head since I fell in love with Eddie. It takes place at the university I went to, involves all my friends, and some personal experiences. Once again, thank you to my two best friends @corroded-hellfire and @munson-blurbs for encouraging me to write and helping me out when I got stuck. Hopefully you guys like it because I have more to share in the future! ❤️

The cold February air was biting at your face as you hurried across campus, slow enough to avoid the ice that no doubt sat in the dark waiting for one careless student to step on it and fall flat on their ass. The walkways were lit just enough to allow you to see where you were going but not enough to help you spot any icy spots so this was as fast as you were willing to move. What should have been a relatively easy day turned into a nightmare the moment you woke up. It had snowed overnight and the university grounds crew had neglected to salt the sidewalks once again so you nearly fell twice just trying to get from your dorm building to the dining hall next door. Once you had a decent breakfast you made your way to work and learned that there was a bad cold spreading among the employees and had claimed three of your coworkers that you expected to work with today, thus leaving you with only your team lead to help you in your department. A good chunk of your morning was spent unloading consoles set to be released soon and left you exhausted. There were a fair share of unhappy customers that you had to deal with, and it only got worse when you finally got to go on your lunch and realized you left your wallet in your room so you had to eat the day-old bagels left in the break room. Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

Your university was located in the middle of a metropolitan area so you were fully aware that the rush hour traffic was bad. To avoid the inevitable panic of wondering if you could be held up in traffic and be late to class, you built your class schedule around your shifts to leave an hour and a half for you to get home when the longest it could possibly take is twenty minutes with heavy traffic. Tonight’s class, Physical Anthropology, was on the other side of campus so you also had to factor in the time it would take to walk there. Still, you would be left ample time to get home, change out of your work clothes, and even have dinner without the need to rush. You were thankful that this was the last week before spring break so at least you could relax when you weren’t working.

Your careful planning had worked perfectly up until today because you couldn’t possibly account for the accident on the highway. Everyone was trying to get home before the storm came back to make the streets undriveable, but one driver was in such a rush that they lost control and caused a small pile-up. The drivers were all alright, thankfully, but this left you sitting in traffic for over an hour and your anxiety slowly creeping up. You were close to emailing your professor to tell them you weren’t going to make it even though the university was right in front of you. By 6:15pm, you were finally moving and rushed across campus. You weren’t even going to change out of your uniform and decided to just keep on the sweater you wore under your coat. All you had to do was grab your bag right by your door and make the trek across campus. Unfortunately once you grabbed everything you needed, you were now left with 15 minutes to make the 11-minute uphill trek to your classroom, assuming there were no obstacles in your way. 

You made it inside the building and into your classroom with two minutes to spare, but in your mind you were basically late to class. You preferred to get there ten minutes early so you could choose a decent seat and get yourself situated, but by the time you were inside all the good spots were taken and the professor was already setting up for her lesson. The only seats left were in the back so you made your way over and put your stuff down at the first open spot you see. As you begin unpacking your things, the professor turns some of the lights off and puts on a video on osteology that you had been focusing on for the last two weeks. 

You were never a very social person in school, always preferring to keep to yourself and only talk when other people initiate a conversation. This class was only on your schedule because it fulfilled a requirement, nothing else. Your only friends here were within your small program and none of them were in this class with you. You didn’t know anyone's names or faces, especially not the person you just sat next to. His only acknowledgement of you was in the form of scooting a little bit so he wasn’t taking up all the space at the table you were now sharing. He was focused on whatever he was frantically writing down in his notebook, a curtain of curly brown hair concealing his face from you. However, you were able to see what he was writing in. It was a beaten up spiral notebook full of carefully organized notes with color coded tabs. There were flowcharts, sketches of what looked like maps, and character information. He also had some pages printed out that were tucked between the pages. None of those things really stuck out to you, instead your eyes were drawn to a hastily drawn creature in the corner of the left page. It was a scaled, humanoid figure with wings and horns. You could almost mistake it for a gargoyle if it weren’t for its stature and flames surrounding it. It’s something you’d recognize almost anywhere.

You whisper to the person next to you, “That pit fiend looks really good.” His pen stops mid-sentence and his head shoots up to look at you. A woodsy smell mixed with a hint of tobacco and mint wafted towards you with his movements. It was almost intoxicating.The first thing you looked at were his eyes. They were wide open with shock and they were the richest, most beautiful shade of brown you had seen in your entire life. His lips were full, a little chapped either from biting and wetting them or the cold weather sucking all the moisture out of everything. He had light freckled across his nose and a small, faded scar on his forehead. The rest of his hair that wasn’t previously obscuring his face was tied back into a bun. You both sat there in silence for a moment as he struggled to put words together. He’s wearing chunky silver rings and a worn Slipknot hoodie. You could even see the edges of a tattoo peeking out from under the collar and another of a goat skull on his left hand. 

“Oh, thanks. Um…” He looked down at the page for a second, ringed hands fidgeting with the pen he was holding before pointing towards the large flow chart, “It’s for this week’s campaign. I didn’t have a lot of time this week to plan so I’m trying to get it all done right before we meet up tonight. My friend, Jeff, his character looted these cultists…” He glances up to check and see if you’re listening and smiles when he realizes you’re actively paying attention, leaning in to get a better look at the pages. He continues with a little more confidence in his voice.

“So his character, this Triton named Kaglas, found a really old book on one of the cultists. Turns out this book was a cursed tome belonging to a demon prince and well, he cut his finger trying to pry the book open because it was being held shut with these really sharp teeth. The blood from his finger dripped onto the book and opened a portal so a prince of hell kidnapped him and now they’ll have to get past this guy to gain access to the prison… I’m just trying to finish up the encounter tables for the rest of the prison because I always leave those until the last minute.” Before he can delve further into the story, the lights come back on and papers are being handed out to each row of tables by the professor. “The goal of this lab is to identify the species of hominid based on everything you’ve learned so far. I’m not going to pull anything funny by giving you two of the same species so don’t worry about that. Each skull is numbered. Work with the other person at your table to identify the species, write the number down, and explain your reasoning. Please be careful with these.”

The papers make their way back to your way and you hand one to your new lab partner. He accepts it, mouthing ‘thank you’  and quickly scrawls Eddie on the top of the page. Good, you tell yourself. You know his name now, progress. There’s some shuffling in the back of the room as the professor goes off on some tangent. Both yours and Eddie’s attention is drawn back to the topic of his campaign. 

You began speaking to him in hushed tones, “Your friend doesn’t seem very bright. Who in their right mind would try opening a book bound shut with fucking teeth? And they got it from cultists? Are they trying to get their characters killed or are they just dumb?” Eddie stifles his laughter and shakes his head. You’re sure the professor is saying something as she moves to the back of the room but your focus is only on the man next to you. His laugh is more beautiful than any song you’ve heard before. He begins to rock his stool back and forth as he continues to speak.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. We’ve been playing together for years and I think they’re getting more and more reckless as time goes on. At this point they can recognize when I’ve set up a trap and they take it every time just for the hell of it…”  so, do you play?” 

There’s some shuffling going on in the cabinets in the back of the room as the professor begins pulling out skulls and placing one on each table. Eddie takes the skull and begins looking it over. You hear a quiet, “These are really cool.” You glance over at it and note the size of the skull overall and the lack of a brow ridge, quickly jotting those down before moving your paper closer to Eddie so he can write them down as well.

“I just started recently, it’s me and a few friends. We just saved this sweet little dwarf bookseller named Barnes when these half-elves stole his book cart with him inside it.” You watch Eddie examine the skull, running his fingers along the area where the sagittal crest should be. His rings catch the warm light of the old overhanging lights of the classroom. There was black ink on his hands, or was that oil? You couldn’t tell. His fingers were calloused and you could only guess he was also a musician. 

“Barnes, the bookseller, huh? What’s his last name, Noble?” The only response he gets is an eye roll before putting the skull down. “By the way, I think it’s a homo erectus. There’s no crest and its teeth are smaller.” You nod and Eddie hands the skull over for you to examine. You open its mouth to get a better look at the teeth and nod to him, writing ‘homo erectus’ on the paper. The skull remained in your hands and you began inspecting it out of curiosity. 

You bring the skull up to eye level and respond to Eddie with a small smirk on your face, “As a matter of fact, it is. Y’know, it’s actually a family business. His father started it and he has a bunch of brothers with the same name. They all have their own book carts in different cities. Honestly, I think they’re gonna be real successful in the future.” The story makes you laugh. The book cart wasn’t meant to be anything more than a place for your crew to gain information on the area but your insistence on “getting to know the locals” to annoy your DM, Emma, led to them creating a character that you felt attached to right away.

He rests his head in his hand and gives you a look that you can’t quite read. He has this smile on his face and this soft look in his eyes that you’ve only ever seen in romance movies when the main characters are starting to fall for each other. It wasn’t something you had the chance to experience yourself, always too nervous to ask people out yourself. Dating apps were totally out of the question because you had only heard horror stories from your friends who had tried it. You open your mouth to continue telling the story and maybe ask Eddie about his own campaigns when your professor pipes up from the front of the classroom.

“Guys, just as a reminder. These skulls are REAL and are ON LOAN TO THE UNIVERSITY and they are VERY EXPENSIVE. Please be careful with them.”

If you were being honest, you should have realized this sooner. It didn’t feel like plastic at all and had small indentations and ridges on it. This was a person. The realization nearly has you dropping the skull that once held someone's brain but thankfully, you were holding it right above the table so there was no chance of it being damaged. A laugh rang out from the seat next to you which took your attention away from what you held in your hands. He’s smiling at you. A big, toothy, beautiful smile and you wish you could look at that smile all day long. He hasn’t been in your life very long, maybe 5 minutes in total, but you were infatuated with him. Once he manages to calm himself down, Eddie slowly reaches out and takes the skull out of your hands.

“Let me take that from you. We can’t have you hurting this guy, can we?” Once the skull was out of your hands, you hang your head low in embarrassment. You feel your face growing warm and pull at the loose strings of your sweater sleeve. You bought it when you first started attending the university and it had been through the wash more times than you could and somehow created a hole in one of the sleeves. The hole was just low enough so you would stick your thumb in it and pick at it, like you were doing right now. Eddie lowers his head a bit to get a better look at you and asks, “So I guess you never realized these were real.”

You reply, face still feeling slightly flushed, “I never really thought about it, but it feels weird… I mean, that was a person,” you reply, pointing to it with your pen as you begin noting the state of its teeth and the sutures on the top of the head, “this guy had hobbies, he had a family, he lived a full life!”

Eddie interjects, turning the skull around to the back to reveal a massive crack in the middle of it. You cringe at the sight of it with Eddie bluntly replying, “I don’t think this guy had a full life. Looks to be cut pretty short to me. This is probably from an axe or some other tool.”

The rest of the class period was spent finishing the lab and learning more about each other. The two of you  talked about majoring in history and your love for classical antiquity while he told you about his band and working as a mechanic with his uncle. You also learned that your music tastes were pretty similar, you had a love for rock and metal and even complimented his hoodie (“I’m gonna be completely honest, you do not look like a Slipknot fan.” “Wow, rude.”). It felt as if you had known Eddie your entire life by the time class was drawing to a close. You two were so immersed in your conversation that you didn’t even realize you were one of the last people in the classroom. Eddie unlocked his phone to check the time,  allowing you a quick glance at his lock screen with a red guitar on it. Your musician hunch was right. He shoots up from his stool, hissing “Shit shit shit” and begins shoving his stuff into his backpack. You look at him bewildered and he says, “I’m sorry, I need to go. Our session is supposed to start in five minutes and I need to be on the other side of campus right now!” Once his bag was hastily packed and he was pulling his jacket on, Eddie looks at you one last time and gives you a sheepish smile. “I’ll see you next week, right? No, two weeks. I’ll see you in two weeks. It was great to meet you!” You don’t even get the chance to properly say goodbye before he leaves the classroom in a blur of black leather and denim. All you hear is the sounds of heavy boots running through the hallway and out the nearest side door.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The walk from Eddie’s class to the student center Tuesday night was usually a leisurely one. He always made sure he got out the moment class ended so he would be able to fetch the keys for the multi-purpose room down in the basement and unlock it before everyone else arrived. Eddie always preferred to have everything set up so it was less likely someone could sneak a peek at his notes. He learned his lesson after he arrived a few minutes late and Grant got a peek at his screen and saw their Arakocra guide that was helping them navigate enemy territory was actually a spy for the local warlord. Eddie was a stickler for punctuality (ironic considering how he was always absent in high school) and would rag on anyone that was even five minutes late. Hellfire was meant to start at 8pm sharp and Eddie was rounding the corner in the basement, keys in hand, by 8:07.

By the time he has the key and rounds the corner to their room, he sees everyone standing outside and their heads all turn at once. He honestly found it kind of disturbing. 

“Well, well, well. Look who finally arrived,” Gareth said with his arms crossed, “we’re glad to see you could make it.” Eddie doesn’t bother trying to justify his tardiness to him and pushes through to unlock the door and set his stuff down at the end of the table. 

Everyone agreed that the drama room back in Hawkins High was definitely more comfortable than their current room and was more aesthetically pleasing. Eddie thrived when he was sitting on that throne. He would have taken it home with him if he could. However, there were some cons to that location that were rarely brought up. They had to lug extra chairs into that room every week and always had to keep their voices down. Sometimes they’d arrive and find out the space was being used for something else that week and they had to cancel the meeting. It was also located in the one part of the school that lacked air conditioning so it became unbearable once the weather started to warm up. Also, the wifi was horrible.

Eddie considered this room to be an upgrade. It wasn’t as nice as the drama room with its white painted brick walls with absolutely nothing on them and the uncomfortable chairs, but he always knew this space would be open since he reserved it for them every Tuesday night. He also appreciated the monitor hanging in front of the tables so he could display the maps and character art he did himself. Yes, they did trade in a very hot room in Hawkins for a very cold one in a basement, but everyone thought it was worth it. 

Everyone began to filter into the room and take their respective seats at the long table. There was only one seat open since one of their former players, Ronnie, had transferred to another school at the end of the fall semester so her seat was being used by Jeff. Eddie is working quickly to pull up the necessary resources and load up the map they were using last week with twisting pathways and lakes of lava. He’s filtering out all the chatter around him in order to get everything set up as quickly as possible. Jeff sits down next to him with a box of pastries from the local Dunkin Donuts. They could usually get them for free in the evening since they were about to be thrown out and Jeff was friends with one of the cashiers. 

“So… what happened to you?” 

Jeff’s question is only heard by Eddie and Doug, Hellfire’s newest member. The rest of the club were busy getting their own materials out and digging dice out of their bags. Eddie could vaguely hear Gareth complaining about losing his own set and having to use one of the sets Eddie brought because ‘Munson always has the weirdest dice, I don’t want to spend tonight staring at dice with a bunch of tiny baby heads in them’. Without looking up from his laptop, Eddie simply replies, “I had a lab and lost track of time, that’s all.”

Jeff doesn’t believe any of this. He and Eddie had been friends since they were both gangly teenagers who got detention for trying to skip gym class. Jeff knew when Eddie was lying - Eddie would always bite at his lip when he wasn’t telling the truth. It wasn’t just a lab. Something must have happened.

Jeff begins to probe Eddie with questions. He knew the only way he’d get Eddie to confess to whatever was going on was by guessing until he got a reaction out of him.

 “A lab, interesting… So you weren’t able to finish it in time and that made you late?” Eddie says nothing. 

“Did you drop something and get in trouble?” Someone else almost did, but not him. No reaction. 

“Did you eat something and get in trouble?” Eddie reaches over to the box of pastries and grabs a boston creme donut.

“Did you meet someone? You found your soulmate?” Eddie pauses as he’s sitting back down in his chair. Bingo. Jeff is shocked. Throughout all the years he had known Eddie, the man was never known to believe in love. There was a girl he met when he was 18 but that never worked out so Eddie assumed he’d live the life of a bachelor. He grew up with parents who hated each other and always seemed to be fighting so he never knew what a healthy relationship looked like. Whenever someone asked about his love life he would brush them off and say it just wasn’t for him. He said it so much that everyone couldn’t help but believe him. 

“Oh my god, Eddie Munson is in love.” Jeff says this slowly with a shit-eating grin on his face. He also said this loud enough that everyone else in the room could hear him so all the conversations being held ended at once in favor of learning about this mystery person in Eddie’s life.

“You’re WHAT?” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of that.”

“What are they like? What’s their name?”

The group questioning turned into an interrogation that yielded no results. Everyone only stopped once Eddie had finally located the music he needed and drowned their questions out with the sounds of a haunting violin, creaking, and muffled screams.

“Ok, so where were we? Uh, Tayr,” Eddie looks up at Jeff and points his pen at him, “you’re still imprisoned deep underground. You had 7 hit points when we last left off and you said you were planning to break both your ankles to get out of your shackles so I’m holding you to that.” Eddie then turns to Grant and Gareth who are looking annoyed that their friend is ignoring them, but he persists. He has a campaign to run. “Hylbaez, I believe you and Ariver were going to attempt horse stacking to get up to that open window. I don’t know how the two of you plan on doing that without your horses and how you’re gonna reach the 7th floor even if you had your horses with you. You’ve had a week to figure that out.” He looks over his notes one last time before looking up at the group. Nobody appears to be ready to play. No pencils in hand, only a few papers out. Hellfire won’t start until they get what they want. Eddie was really hoping they’d all drop the group questioning but that doesn’t seem like it’s happening anytime soon. With a huff, Eddie rubs his face and gives them all a look of resignation. “Okay, fine. You want to know? There was a girl that sat next to me. She complimented some character art that I’ve been working on and we talked about D&D for a while. I’m gonna try to get her number after spring break. THAT’S IT.”

It’s almost like everyone’s ears perked up when they heard him mention Dungeons & Dragons. Doug puts a hand up as if he’s in class and asks the question that everyone is thinking. “Are you going to invite her to join Hellfire?” It’s a question that Eddie had been asking himself on the hurried walk from class to the student center. Sure, the campaign they were playing had already begun but he could find a way to write you in. He knew he was a good storyteller so it would be a great way to impress you. Sure, he’s no Matthew Mercer or Brennan Lee Mulligan, but he never struggled to keep everyone’s attention and he’s proud of the stories he created. 

“I’ll think about it.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

It had begun raining by the time their session was concluded (the student center was closing) and the shuttles weren’t running tonight so Eddie had to make the mile trek on foot. He didn’t even care that the elevator was broken again. He’ll, he wouldn’t care if it was broken for the rest of the year because he’s pretty sure he found the love of his life today and nothing could dampen his mood. He rushed up the four flights of stairs and fumbled with his keys before coming inside and slamming the front door shut behind him. His backpack was thrown onto the floor with a wet fwump and his bomber jacket followed close behind as he hastily shucked it off him.

Eddie had a routine he usually followed after each Hellfire Club meeting. He would always change into his pajamas, heat up the food he had brought back from the dining halls and make that his dinner, and retreat into his room where he’d go over what happened during their session and tweak his plans for their next meeting if necessary. He did this every week for the past three years he’s been DMing at this school and the only time he ever broke this routine was during finals his freshman year where he was convinced he’d fail if he didn’t dedicate all his time to actually studying. This was the second time he would ever break that routine. Instead of making himself comfortable, he stormed down through their small living space and walked past his own room to barge into the other bedroom.

This was the second year that Steve roomed with Eddie and the first year that they got their own rooms. Since they were so used to sharing a room together, it was second nature for Eddie to rush straight to Steve when he had to tell him something. Thankfully for him, Steve never locked his door so Eddie was able to rush in unannounced and blurted out, “You will NOT believe what happened today!”

Steve was sitting at his desk, still dressed in his red school scrubs from his clinicals earlier in the day with his nose buried in his textbooks. His hair was tied back in a small ponytail, wearing his glasses, and headphones over his ears. When Eddie forced his way into the room, Steve nearly jumped out of his seat and ripped his headphones off his head and was glaring daggers at the other man.

“Do you ever learn to knock?” Eddie ignores the comment from Steve and goes to the other side of the small bedroom to sit down on Steve’s bed, still wearing his damp clothes and definitely tracking mud across the apartment. Steve is only angry for a moment until he sees the giant smile on his friends face. Eddie wasn’t exactly a grumpy person, but Steve hadn’t seen him smiling like that in a long time, probably not since Eddie got Metallica tickets from his Uncle Wayne as a graduation present. He was smiling so much that Steve was sure his face actually hurt. Eddie was beaming just like he was all those years ago.

Eddie’s leg began shaking from excitement as he began speaking, “I think I met my soulmate today. I was in my anthropology class and she sat down next to me and she’s perfect. I mean, first of all, she’s beautiful. She plays Dungeons and Dragons and we like the same music and she’s so fucking funny.” The metalhead then gets up from Steve’s bed and takes the few steps it takes to stand right in front of him. He’s wildly waving his hands around as he recalls everything that you two talked about during that lab. Steve swore Eddie didn’t stop to breathe even once during this entire recollection. As the story starts to wind down, Eddie removed his hair tie from his hair and ran his fingers through his dark locks. He sighs and says, “Honestly man, I didn’t think after Paige that I’d find anyone who I really connected with but she’s different. I don’t feel like I need to hold back when I’m talking to her.” Eddie finally stops talking and takes a breath before moving back to Steve’s bed and flopping down to lay on his sheets, wet hair and all. 

Steve fully turns around to face Eddie with an impressed look on his face as he closes his books, asking the other, “I’m happy for you, man. So what’s her name? Did you get her number?” Eddie hears this and his eyes widen, opting to look up at the ceiling rather than Steve. He realizes his horrible, horrible mistake and is kicking himself for hurrying off rather than taking an extra minute to get your name and contact information. His silence prompts Steve to scoot closer in his chair as his tone turns more serious. “Eddie, did you get her number?” Silence. “Her instagram?” Silence. “Snapchat??” Eddie purses his lips, too ashamed to say anything. “Munson, did you get ANYTHING from her??”

Eddie groans and sits up now, rubbing his face and tries to defend himself. “Listen. I was going to be late to Hellfire and I didn’t want to listen to anyone complaining about being late so I just told her I’d see her after spring break. I wasn’t thinking straight! I swear I’ll get her number the moment I see her in two weeks.”

It’s now Steve’s turn to groan and he shakes his head, getting up from his chair and moving to sit next to Eddie and begins to try to reassure his friend, telling him, “Ok, here’s what we’re gonna do. There’s like a missing connections instagram page for the school. You just need to message them and tell them you want to find her and get her contact information. Maybe she’ll see it.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

You spent the rest of the week hopelessly searching for Eddie in the massive crowds of students. There were a couple instances of spotting a head of curly brown hair only to be disappointed when you realize it’s not him. There’s about 40,000 students in this school so you wonder why you figured you could just find him casually walking around campus. Your roommate, Elena, suggested looking at your school portal page to see if you can find him on your class page but your professor didn’t enable the ‘Students’ section, only opting for pages that were vital in completing coursework. One of your friends spent two hours scouring Instagram and Facebook convinced that they could find Eddie but came up empty handed. You told everyone you knew what he looked like and what his name was, but he wasn’t in anyone’s classes or in anyone’s dorms. It was like he just vanished into thin air. Elena reassured you that you’d see him in two weeks so all you had to do was wait.

Your search was paused during spring break and put on an indefinite hold when things went downhill. People all over the world were getting sick and you watched in horror as the virus slowly creeped closer to your home state. Then into your county. Spring break was extended for an extra week as the school administration worked to find a solution to keep the staff and student body safe. Schools around the country were shuttering their campuses while yours promised in-person classes would resume shortly but they soon changed their mind. You received an email by week three stating the remainder of the semester would be spent online and you needed to pack up your dorm room. The administration was unable to confirm if you’d be returning to campus in the fall. At this point, both you and Eddie came to the conclusion that you’d never see the other person again and it would take a miracle for you two to reunite.

————————————————————————

I’m not sorry

[247-diaperboy]

Diapered Team Captain

He thought an innocent picture on a random site would keep him safe that no one would find out. Unfortunately for 18 year old Kevin when he went to school the next day to get ready for baseball practice he would find himself in a very different situation.

Kevin had ruled the team and was very strict and very forceful, he had forced several team members out for not performing up to par. He wanted the team to win big his last year in high school. In most cases he was considered a jerk to many and today was the day that they were all going to take him down a peg.

So now almost a very minute Kevin walked into the changing room to meet his team was he jumped, but before he could even say anything a gag was shoved in his mouth and tied around his head. He felt a large nipple fill his mouth and realized that the gag was just a giant pacifier and he really had no choice but to suck on it.

He then saw a lot of the other guys cheering and laughing, he knew then that this all had been planned then a thought crossed his mind about the picture that he posted last night. He realized that obviously someone on the team found it and now they were all going to come after him. Kevin did his best to try to fight the other guy’s off of him but with no luck.

“You know so many of us thought of you as a tough guy, all of us were too worried to even challenge you. But that’ cute picture you posted shows us that you’re just a little boy and it’s time for you to learn how to be a good boy” Paul Kevin’s second on the team and former best friend stated holding up his phone to show off the picture.

All Kevin could do was whimper around the pacifier as the guys that were holding him began to strip him of his clothes. For the last few months Kevin had always worn his practice shorts underneath his regular jeans and now the secret that laid underneath was going to be revealed. His button-up shirt and undershirt were ripped away, his jeans followed suit leaving him just in his shorts which were also ripped away.

The guys froze for only a second or two before they all started laughing. You underwear that Kevin was wearing looked like little kids training pants with police cars and fire engines on them. They were very thick and to the looks of them damp. Kevin had started wearing these in secret, it helped give him comfort, this only proved that he wasn’t a big man but very much a little boy in need of being taken care of.

 I guess little Kevin has been having some accidents, and by the looks of it your training pants need to be replaced with a proper diaper” Paul stated looking at the obvious wet patch on the training pants

Kevin was fully picked up then and taken to the shower stalls and there he saw a couple of the guys that he kicked off the team just a couple weeks ago standing there in just their boxers holding would look like shaving cream and a razor. Kevin tried his best using everything he had to get out of the situation he knew what was coming.

But it was useless he wasn’t strong enough to break away then he felt his training pants get removed, then received a hard smack to his bottom. He looked to see that Paul had taken off his belt and was going to use it to fully punish Kevin like the little boy they now realize he is.

Kevin moans trying to say something anything to make it all stop, but it’s no use Kevin has smacked a few more times with the belt and laid over Paul’s knee naked. Kevin was already in tears but not from the spanking but by the utter humiliation of what he was suffering through.

“Bad little boys who don’t share get spankings like you’re getting right now Kevin” Paul stated spanking Kevin’s bottom between every word.

“this is also what bad little boys get for wetting their training pants, you obviously are far from the 18-year-old man you’re supposed to be but we will change that everyone out on the field will see it too” Paul continued until Kevin fell limp sobbing in pain.

Kevin had no time to register or ask what he meant by “everyone on the field” he was in just too much pain. Now that Kevin was submitting to what was happening to him Paul stood him up and with the help of a few of the ex members of the team they began shaving all of his body hair off. Kevin cried and sobbed with every part of it as he was completely left hairless as a newborn. It’s also revealed to all the guys how small of a manhood Kevin actually had and they just giggled.

“Very good little Kevin nice and smooth like the little boy you are, now I think it’s time for us to talk about your accident. You see you can’t be a big boy and have the accidents like you just did. Those training pants are ruined and think if you accidentally made a poo poo in them” Paul said speaking to Kevin like he was a little kid.

“So me and the rest of the team have decided that the best thing for you is to be put back in a diaper until you’re ready to be a big boy and learn how to use the toilet but that’s probably a long way away”.

Kevin wanted to fight again but the very way Paul was talking to him and even bringing up a proper diaper just made Kevin hard. His now hairless manhood stood completely upright proving how badly he wanted this treatment and that diaper.

“Look everyone looks like baby Kevin does want his diaper!” A couple of guys called out.

Everyone laughed knowing this was exactly what Kevin deserved since he obviously wasn’t a man like they were. Kevin was led back to other lockers were he saw a changing mat laid out with a very thick very babyish diaper was waiting for him.

To Kevin’s surprise the gag around his mouth was undone and removed but he was still told not to speak. “Now that we have made sure to punish you and remove your big boy hair we want you to do one thing and say that you want your diaper” Paul stated.

Kevin looked at Paul and everyone else in the room but instead of trying to run away he just froze and Paul continued. “We have established that you are just a little boy, you wet your training pants and your baby weiner is hard from the very thought of wearing that diaper. Now admit it or you’ll be spanked until you do”.

Kevin turned back around looked down at the plastic changing mat but more so the diaper, he had seen those diapers online and fully wondered what it would feel like to be put in a diaper again a real diaper. Somewhere beyond the humiliation and his pride all he wanted was to really wear that diaper but more importantly be put into it like the baby boy he wanted to be deep down.

“I’m ready to be a good baby boy and wear my diaper” Kevin stuttered out sounding almost like a real little boy.

“Why do you need your diaper Kevin?” One of the guys who shaved him asked.

“Cuz I wet my training pants and I’m not a big boy like all of you” Kevin lisped out sounding every bit as a 3 year old but the team wanted him to be.

There was more laughter but most of all there was acceptance and they knew full well that they brought Kevin their former team captain all the way down. Without any further hesitation Kevin laid on the mat no longer covering his soon to be diapered weiner, as Paul slipped The pacifier this time without the gag part back into his mouth.

Kevin let the process happen as Paul lifted Kevin’s legs by the ankles like you would do a real baby and the diaper was slid underneath him, when his sore bottom touched the diaper, he just felt more excited. Baby powder was heavily sprinkled over Kevin’s soon to be diapered area and the diaper was closed. Kevin didn’t care about the eyes on him he just felt like he was in heaven.

Kevin was completely lost in the feel of a diaper the smell of the baby powder, he felt like a real baby, a real baby boy something he truly wanted to always be. Yes his team had taken away his manhood and his ability to run the team the way he wanted to, but they gave him something better in return.

Most of the team had dispersed realizing that this really wasn’t a true punishment for their captain, but also they gave him something he was missing. The few guys that remained finished getting ready for practice leaving Kevin happily laying on the changing mat enjoying his diaper and sucking away on the pacifier.

Paul just looked at the big baby with a big smile, Kevin was now fully a baby. Now it was time to show everyone at the school and Kevin’s family exactly what he was…

[lapdogged]

Hi.

I'm not really sure what to say in this. I've never been good with words, especially serious ones.

If you're reading this. I'm probably dead. Or dying. Or something. I might queue this early so that I can reread it? Like 1am something. But, like, if it's Monday my time it's just too late for anything. I took a bunch of pills, got comfy, slept, and didn't wake up.

Hi. My name is Namida, I use he/they/star/prin/royal. At the time of posting this, Luminescence (he/heart/blood/bone/gum), Katerina (ask pronouns), Scotty (he/him), and Martyr (he/him) are also here. Technically others (Damian he/she, Maren she/her, Charles he/him) but, like, we're the ones taking the leap.

Collectively. Our name is Francis Noele Mae, or Saint, or the Church of Strabismus, or Bishops of Divinity, or Seraphim System, blah blah blah. They/He/Se/Shi. Masc, nonhuman, femmasc terms, blah blah.. we're a system, we're B/H/OCPD, AuDHD, c-ptsd, gad, mdd, spd, a few other things? We're physically/mentally disabled and going blind.

I like to think we're creative. I think I can be sweet, I think I'm caring. I think I'm pretty smart. I'm not very strong, or pretty, but I think my body's nice. I think I'm handsome. I think my friends like (liked?) me. I think I was a good artist and a good flag maker and a good comfort. I hope I did okay.

I like needy streamer overload, Undertale, Stardew valley, animal crossing, Minecraft, sanrio, cult of the lamb, FNAF, FNF, ciel fledge, collecting, cutecore, designing, decorating, and sweatpants. My very favorite scent is vanilla almond, my favorite food is zuppa toscana, and my favorite outfits include either hello kitty or a unicorn onesie.

i was born on July 28th, 2009, a week later than my due date. As soon as I was born, I was already loud and babbling. My mama says she cried when she saw me, because I was a girl (oops, she was wrong)! When I was a toddler I'd throw all the toys into my brother's crib and crawl in to play with him.

I was a very sensitive kid, cried everyday of elementary. Old teachers will tell you that, but then they 'forget' to point out how badly I was bullied. I was obsessed with hugs, art, and math, and was baby Jesus in my 3rd grade Mardi Gras parade. I have a scar on my forehead from cracking it open, and I still hate recalling my eye surgery.

Middle school was hard as fuck. I spent a lot of those days at home hiding from the world, my mom annoyed as I cried and pleaded to skip yet again. I finally cut off a horrible best friend, as well as a lot of online abusers. It was around this time that I was diagnosed with GAD/depression, and the time that AuDHD started to be suspected.

I'm in high school now. Barely survived 9th, and sorry to say I'm only half through 10th. I can't do it. Everything's too big. I couldn't even do my work, and now I failed 5 classes, and everyone is busy with babies or medicals or wills or money or all of it, and there's just no room left for us. No more room for their "Ophi" and definitely none for "Francis."

I love you all. So, so, so much. This is not your fault. It was never your fault and never, ever will be your fault. I just couldn't be strong anymore.

Goredad, I love you. You helped me on my worst days, you helped me figure myself out, you made me feel like things could get better..even if they didn't.

Momdad, I love you. I'm sorry I'm breaking my promise, but I'm just too tired. I can't breathe anymore. I can't see anywhere else to go. That's not your fault, okay?

Ivy, I love you. You made me smile, you made me forget the worst of it for a while. I wouldn't have, couldn't have made it this far without you. You are so, so special.

Alex, god, I love you. You're my brother. You're my puddle. You're my best friend. You made me so, so happy. You make me so happy now. You're so, so good, you are such a good person.

Nalu, I love you. You're my twin, you're my friend, you mean so much to me. I'm so sorry I stopped texting, I just got too scared and too tired.

To everyone I've loved, to everyone I've ever helped or been helped by or spoken to,

Please survive. Please don't come after me. I know this is not the right decision for me to make but it's the only one I have. You have options, I promise. You can grow older and be happy and forget about me. You'll move on one day and you'll forget about me and you'll never even remember the name Francis.

This is me and my teddy. His name is Theodore but he only goes by Teddy. He's my favorite thing in the whole world. I got him when I was four and I've had him ever since.

I may be dying in my body. But I don't want us to die in spirit. Please, just love the memory of me for a little while. Share a picture of me or a video of my voice or anything. I have a few posts queued, too, so don't freak out if you see my blog ghost post, lol.

some pictures of cats I like

I won't be coming back. I'm not going to be alive to come back. I've already decided what I'm doing, I'm taking as many pills as I can. I'm going to wear my favorite outfit (my hello kitty and my onesie), I'm going to be holding my teddy and wrapped up in my weighted blanket, and I'm going to be listening to my favorite playlist, the one he made me.

And then I am going to shut my eyes.

And then I am not going to wake up.

I'm sorry.

[alexhasalotofthoughts]

Okay it's been long enough since TIT that I can share my thoughts with a clear head. I literally slept the whole of yesterday because I was so tired (thank you, London).

Seeing Dan and Phil was a really big deal for me—as I'm sure it is for most fans. I've been a fan of DnP since primary school and now I'm nearing the end of secondary school and the start of uni so this feels like a very big full circle moment.

As cringe and stereotypical as it is, DnP videos have always been there when I needed them. When I was having a bad day at school, or struggling to come to terms with my sexuality/gender, there were Dan and Phil, ready to put a smile on my face. Dan's coming out video was released the same year I started being bullied for my sexuality and seeing someone I looked up to as much as him be so honest and open really helped me to feel less alone. I rewatch that video a lot. I will always be grateful for that.

I've worn my Interactive Introverts bracelet everyday since I brought it with the DVD (my mum would not let me see them live at the time as I was "too young" lol) so Dan and Phil, in some way, have been there for every big and small moment in my life. They were technically there when I got an offer from the uni I want to go to. I literally wore a Dan and Phil shirt to my autism assessment. They were mentioned in my autism assessment report (though I am not the person who said that for the confessions part of the show, that was someone else. I am not trying to steal their thunder lol). I can't even begin to express what a big part of my life their videos have been.

As I'm sure has been mentioned many times by now, my show was filmed so I might even end up on YouTube or a DVD (PLEASE DAN AND PHIL, KEEP PHYSICAL MEDIA ALIVE) or something, though I doubt that because I was in the royal circle. Also a drunk girl hung if the balcony and heckled for most of the show. I think even ended up getting kicked out. I saw somewhere on twitter that Phil asked for her to be kicked or mentioned to staff that she was too loud but I have no idea how true that is as I was on the opposite side of the circle to her and I have never and probably will never speak to Phil to confirm this.

Other than that, though, the show was absolutely brilliant!

Genuinely! It was so funny and it was absolutely lovely being in a room of people who have the same interests as me; I literally saw a "Be More Chill" "Boyf" bag, "Heathers" tracksuit bottoms, a FNAF Bonnie keychain and a Doctor Who badge all in the space of 5 minutes of one another. My people. Someone even complimented my hat, though I find London so overwhelming that I forgot to respond properly lol (sorry hat person, you were very nice! I liked your whiskers!).

Before the show, they played "Hot To Go" by Chappell Roan, and the whole theatre sang and danced along, which was absolutely lovely!

I was laughing and cheering for about 2 hours straight, so I'd say it was money well spent, though my mum literally fell asleep during the first act so I don't know if she'd agree.

One thing I will say: seeing sister Daniel in the flesh is literally a HOLY experience—I am so... Gay? Straight? Bisexual?? I'm not sure which word go use in this situation but Daniel was hot, so who cares?

To conclude this overly long blog post no-one will read, it was fun and I feel like 12 year old me would look at me now and smile. I saw Dan and Phil live. I got an offer from the uni I wanted to study film! I write!! I have friends who care about me!! I'm not ashamed to like the things I like!! God, they would be so proud of me. And I am proud of them.

TIT pics below ;)

(That last pic was taken by my mum, hence why I look so awkward. I was happy, I swear.)

Thank you very much if you read this! I really do go on a lot but also this is my blog and I suppose that means I can go on as much as I want.

[soundkiller0017]

This story was inspire by this post

Of @howlingday

The birth of a Baron.

It haven been years after the defeat of Salem. In that years after the defeat, Jaune Arc and Weiss Schnee got married. After there marriege a tragedy happen. Jaune's 6 year old nephew, Adrian Cotta-Arc was left alone after a terrorist attack in Jaune's hometow that killed the Arc family. After that event, the Arc-Schnee couple adopted Adrian as he was there own son. Adrian was happy. He was trained by his uncle and aunt to become a hero like them. Adrian fell in love with the art of swords. The duels, the fights. Everything about the majestic clash of mights. Adrian grow up to look up to the Huntsman. A team that her uncle and aunt were part of, before the retired. That team was comformed of The Red Reaper, The Man of Irion, The silint Shadow, The Sun Dragon, The Mighty Valkirye, The Lotus Warrior, The Gentleman and The Android. They were the biggest heros. But his biggest insperations where his uncle that was called back in the day The Sword Master and his that was called The White Witch. But when he was 15 years the real tradegy struck. Argus, where he lived with his uncle, aunt and many cousins was destroyed by the crashing of some sort of gigant airship. He rember his uncle shielding him, his aunt and cousins. But he die in the act of doing that action. His aunt was struck by a metal stick in the heart dieying. His cousins where forever burried in the ground of the house. He was traped in that death trap for days. He was traped with the bodies of his family. Of his heros. He was then rescue not by the heros he admire, but by first responder service. He stayed in the destroyed city waiting to see if he could spot one of the friends and ex teamed of his aunt and uncle. The never apper. They din't even apper in the funeral. He was alone in that graveyard for hours, until he saw a old man in a suit aproach to him. He named was just Zemo. He was some sort of Baron in the distand londs of solitas. He told me that he was a relative of my aunt and that he would adopt him. Adrian then told him his goal of killing all of the heros. The Baron smiled him and told him that he would help him. He them gifted Adrian a sword that was in his family for generations. Pulcra Mors. The Beautiful Death. That sword could break every defence and armor. Then Adrian was trained by the Baron for years until the death of the Baron. The Baron left everything to Adrian. Adrian in honor of the help of the Baron he change his name to Zemo. Now Adrian Cotta-Arc was long gone. And there was only Baron Zemo.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

Do you think that at some point Loren would come across with William some of her old classmates or ex or ex-friends? People that were not the nicest to her and hurt her while they are out or something. They act all nice and sweet because of William. Nothing dramatic, but her old memories come back and she gets uncomfortable. William then comforts her.

A more precise way would be with Loren ex who basically screwed her over. They are at a restaurant or an event. William meets him briefly without Loren or himself knowing who he is. Her ex says he’s a fan or whatever. Then, Loren comes back from like the washroom or wherever she was and they are just the two together. And finally, they both see her ex together and it’s awkward and weird (obviously I don’t think anything drastic like a fight would happen because it’s out of character)

A/N - Well sweet Anon, I thought I was doing well at the 3k word mark. Then the 7k word mark happened....I had no idea this would turn out to be 11k words. Apologizing is definitely in my nature so I will start there - I tied another idea into the beginning of this and I just went with it never intending for it to be this long. There's a lot of layers here but it all leads to Loren's past seeping into her present through a group of (so-called) friends reaching out to her.

Trigger Warnings: **This recounts Loren's experience with her ex, who, by definition, is an emotional abuser. I have never written about this before and tried to keep it as a very high-level account of it**

18+ only. Contains profanity, smut (oral [fem receiving], intercourse [p in v])

Word count - approx 12k words (sorry again lol)

Loren was positioned comfortably on her side of the bed, her oversized socks half falling down her calves and her cropped cardigan slipping slightly off her shoulder. She had her laptop resting in her lap, her focus drifting between resizing an image and fiddling with the resolution. On the other side of the bed, William lounged on his back, his head on a pillow at the end of the bed and his feet near the headboard. His phone was in his hand, he appeared to be watching something but in reality his attention was entirely elsewhere.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her tonight—or really any time that she was near him. The screen of her laptop illuminating her face, reflecting off of her glasses made him beam from the inside out. It was clear to him that the more time they spent together, the longer he wanted her to stay with him.

On some level, from all the way back to the first time he kissed her—that moment now many months ago—he couldn’t imagine anyone else fitting so naturally in his space. Scratch that. Wouldn’t want to imagine anyone else. When they had to leave each other, it always impacted him more than he ever let on. He was head over heels for Loren, and he felt confident that she shared the same feelings for him. Their random introduction at an Easter Seals Skate truly became a rare gift of a deeply caring union between two people.

With all of these feelings, however, he knew there were things they needed to discuss before the future which he deeply desired with her could happen.

Loren could feel William’s lingering gaze from across the bed. She had only glanced at him for a split second, her eyes once again fixed on the laptop screen. “How ya’ doing over there? You’ve been quiet,” Loren asked gently.

William smiled, caught in the act. “Just thinking.”

Loren let out a soft laugh with a mock grimace. “Uh-oh.”

He chuckled but didn’t respond immediately, his eyes returned to his phone. Loren had appeared on a mid-day talk show in Toronto, modeling a local designer’s winter fashion line that was mix-and-match and budget-friendly. William re-watched the clip that was posted by the network.

“Were they nice to you—the women on the show?” he asked, holding up the screen of his phone showing her the clip.

She flipped her glasses up onto her head, pinning her long wavy hair behind her ears. She squinted at the screen, her lips curving into a small smile. “They were—everyone was very nice. I was nervous but then I realized it was just the same as trying on clothes in Chelsea’s closet.”

“Or mine—err, wait…no - that’d be more like a strip tease,” he said simply, and when she blushed and ducked her head shyly, his smile widened. He set his phone aside, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before changing his position on the bed. He laid next to her on his side with his pillow bunched under his head. “Can I ask you something?”

Her fingers paused on her keyboard. “Of course,” she replied, looking very attentive.

“Who do you talk to about us?”

The question caught her a little off guard. Loren paused for a moment, closing her laptop halfway. “Uh, well, Alice, for sure….a couple of other WAGs?. We actually don’t talk about you all that much—I guess I don’t feel the need to. And Kathy, she’s sort of my life guru—she has been for years. I think she’s the only one that I told about meeting you to begin with. I trust her—and she’s pretty much like a vault.” She tilted her head, studying him.

“What about your parents? Or your other friends?” he asked.

Loren hesitated. “I haven’t told my parents anything. It’s not that I don’t want to, or that I don’t trust them, but… it doesn’t feel like the right time yet. They’re enjoying their first winter as snowbirds, and I don’t want them worrying about anything that I’m doing up here.” She closed the laptop and sat it next to the empty glass of wine on the nightstand. “My friends - I have a lot of different friend groups, but everyone’s busy with their own lives—and even still, short answer? I wouldn’t be comfortable mentioning that we’re seeing each other.”

William nodded slowly. “So it doesn’t bother you that we don’t do, like, the Insta thing posting pictures of us being together or anything like that?”

Loren shook her head slowly and mouthed the word “No.” Despite the silence behind the word, he understood loud and clear how much she meant it. “I guess… I just don’t want it out there. I’m really cagey about opening up my personal life up online - who I'm seeing romantically…especially you.” Loren shifted to lay on her side facing William. “Is that okay?”

He pulled her into him, kissing her mouth and guiding her thigh over his. His blue eyes bore deep into her now racing heart at the vision that was his face.

His eyes remained connected with hers, his brows furrowing slightly. “Oh, yeah - no….I’m totally okay with that….it’s sorta my preference too.” William paused, his mouth hovering over hers, his sweet breath warm against her lips before continuing. “So, I was just watching this reel and I guess I wanted to know how you’d feel about a situation… as I kind of want to assume we’ll, uh… be together for a long time.”

Loren blushed at the thought. She tried to not react but a small smile curled at her lips.

Although his expression seemed calm, William’s stomach flipped with where the conversation was heading. “Prenups,” he said, watching her closely. “How do you feel about them?”

Loren was not expecting that one. A million thoughts bounced in her head, mainly wondering why he was asking, but she slowed her mind and decided just to answer the question directly. “If little ‘ole me, with my once shiny credit rating and trusting nature, could get fucked over so badly with my finances, then you, with your… what, a hundred million dollars? Even if it’s not me you are with in the end, you better make sure your future wife signs one… I’ll hunt you down and straight-up kick your ass if you don’t.”

Her bluntness mixed with his own nervous energy made him burst out laughing.

Loren grinned at him as she continued. “Seriously, though,” she added, “I hope you wouldn’t treat a prenup like a license to do whatever you want, but yeah, I’d absolutely sign one. Would you sign one for me if the tables were turned? I might be mega-rich all on my own one day.”

William nodded—first that he believed she could do anything she put her mind to, and second, he really would sign one.

“That’s actually where the question came from. I was watching something—like, the guy… he had money and assets, and he explained to his fiancée that he wanted her to sign one. She flipped out but then she inherited some money later. Then she turned the tables on him and demanded he sign one,” William explained. “I mean, I was just curious what you thought about it… not that I was worried about something like that with you anyway.”

Loren ran the back of her fingers along his jawline. “Well, obvious double standard going on with those two. But, personally, I have had too much experience in that department, William - it can get to be pretty fucking terrible. Whether it’s me, or the people that I care about, if you end a relationship—especially you—you need to have something in place, something that’s fair and just for both parties. It’s not that you want the relationship to end, or think that it will…” her voice trailed off.

William hesitated, his hand slipping under the waistband of her shorts, his palm resting warmly on her ass cheek. He wasn’t entirely sure why the thought had popped into his mind, but once it was there, he couldn’t shake it.

“So… here’s a question,” he started, carefully “We’ve been together now for a bit—like, really together this time. You’ve seen more of what my life is like, how crazy it can get. Is there any part of you…” He trailed off for a moment, leaning his forehead against hers for a moment. “Any part of you that doesn’t want this? That doesn’t want to do this life with me?”

The question hung in the air. Loren’s breath caught, and to her surprise, her throat tightened. She shook her head quickly, trying to blink away the tears that suddenly threatened, but it was no use. The sadness with that simple question overwhelmed her.

“Hey, hey,” William said, alarmed. He moved closer, cupping her face gently. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just…”

She laughed at herself through the tears, shaking her head. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just…” She dabbed under her eye with the back of her thumb. “The idea of it just hit me the wrong way,” she sniffed, scoffing at herself in embarrassment.

His heart clenched. He helped wiped at her tears with his thumbs, but his attempts to comfort her only made the tears fall faster, though now she was mostly laughing as well. “You have to stop,” she managed between sniffling and giggling. “You’re making it worse.”

William’s chest ached with love for her. He pulled her closer and held her tightly as her tears subsided. “Sorry William - that just caught me the wrong way… but I can’t help the tears sometimes, it’s just how it is with me.”

“You weren’t lying when you called yourself a puddle, eh?” William teased.

Loren’s words were muffled against his neck. “Lille lustigkurre,” calling him a “little goof” in Swedish. William playfully planted tiny kisses across her lips. He loved how seriously she was taking to learning Swedish, coming out with phrases he never taught her.

Loren’s tone turned apologetic. “But yeah, I wish I could control the tears more - used to drive my ex nuts… he’d go ballistic, as though berating me was going to help me stop crying.”

William’s body tightened, as he visualized Loren being screamed at while already being upset. His jaw clenched when he pictured dropping her ex with one punch to the mouth if he ever witnessed such a thing.

William pulled Loren’s body on top of him, her letting a light “whoop” followed by a giggle. He cradled her ass cheeks as she straddled him, propping herself up on her arms. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry she went through all of that but he also knew her response.

Thank you - but it’s done with now, she would say.

Instead, he would settle for making her know how much he desired and loved her. He pulled her mouth onto his, and in turn, she began to rub herself against his hardness.

“I guess I’m done my work?” she asked, cheekily.

He gripped her ass more firmly, pressing her against him.

In one swift movement, she sat up in a full straddle as he quickly unbuttoned her cardigan while she reached around and unclasped her bra. The moment his mouth and tongue made contact with her nipples, her core clenched in anticipation of feeling him deep inside her.

As if it needed to be said, Loren finally gasped, “Yeah, okay…. fuck it, I’m done.” A mischievous smirk played on her lips as she brought her mouth onto his, slipping her tongue against his in a steamy kiss. In Swedish, she teased, “Åh, du är verkligen i trubbel nu...” (Oh, you’re really in trouble now...)”

—

A few days later, Loren found herself in the kitchen at William’s place, the whir of the blender filling the air as she prepared smoothies and other healthy concoctions for both William and Alex. It was a routine she had adopted during her visits, one that Alex especially appreciated. Lost in thought, her eyes were fixed on the ingredients laid out on the counter—a mix of fresh fruits, leafy greens, protein powders, and supplements—she continued to smile to herself as she pressed the stop button on the appliance.

The morning had started the way she secretly (or not so secretly (despite clasping her hand over her mouth, her orgasmic moans were surely heard outside of the bedroom) loved most. She and William had indulged in a passionate quickie before getting out of bed to take the dogs for a walk. Standing at the counter now, her thoughts drifted back to the earlier moments, her lip catching between her teeth and cheeks flushing pink. The blissful soreness lasting in her core was a reminder of just how incredible it had been.

She shook her head, lifting herself from her own trance, and let out a soft laugh. Oh my god, I still want more she thought, her body still hungry for William. She inhaled deeply to try and calm her lingering urges as she reached for the jar of chia seeds.

A notification buzzed on her phone, pulling her attention away from the blender. Picking it up, she saw a DM on Instagram from someone she hadn’t thought about in a long time—a so-called friend from a group of women she used to spend time with when she was with her ex, Drew. The message was short, polite, and complimentary, but Loren immediately felt a knot form in her stomach.

Despite outward appearances, she had never felt particularly close to any of the women in that group. During her relationship with Drew, little by little, she had been steered away from spending time with her other friends, finding herself surrounded by people she couldn’t fully trust. Loren had always felt like an outsider, unable to fully be herself. Every group activity she attended left her retreating further into her shell as time went on.

The unwelcome memory of those years crept into her mind. She had spent so much time trying to be everything Drew wanted her to be, only for him to make her feel like it was never enough. The stress of that relationship had taken a toll on her physical and mental health. Food became a source of comfort in the lonely hours spent working all day, coming home, cleaning, and preparing nice dinners that Drew would often miss. When he finally came home, it was only to pick fights, leaving her feeling even smaller than before. The weight gain that ensued only fueled her feelings of low self-worth, to which Drew’s backhanded remarks also exacerbated.

Loren exhaled sharply, setting her phone down and shaking off the memories. Just as Alex walked into the kitchen, greeting her with a soft, “God morgon,” Loren muttered, “Fuck off,” under her breath, directing the words at the source of the DM she’d just received. She hadn’t heard Alex walk in and jumped slightly, startled when he responded, “Um… okay?”

[Loren practicing Swedish] “Oh—God, Alex… I am so sorry. God morgon—that other part wasn’t meant for you,” she smiled apologetically.

“Who’s in your bad books this morning? It can’t be my brother…” Alex teased.

Loren didn’t know if there was a whiff of ‘I heard far more than I wanted to this morning’ in Alex’s remark, but her soft smile remained constant as she handed him the vibrant mixture in a glass container.

“No, just a message from someone I haven’t heard from in years, and I have no real desire to interact with them,” Loren replied, her tone carrying a hint of tension.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” Alex inquired, gulping down some of his smoothie.

“A girl—a woman I used to hang out with years ago,” Loren began. “She said she saw me on that talk show and is gushing about how she’d love to meet up sometime. It sounds nice and all, but unless she’s done a total 180, I’m leery about getting together with her and the other women in the group.” Her apprehension was unmistakable as she spoke.

Loren would never dream of saying it to Alex, but Kayla, the so-called “friend” who had reached out, reminded her of Isla—Alex’s now ex-girlfriend—the day they first met. Snide, smug, and toxic were fair adjectives to describe parts of Kayla’s personality.

Alex, seeming rather invested in the story, stood at the counter as he prompted Loren to keep talking. William soon breezed into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Loren’s waist from behind, unintentionally interrupting Loren as he thanked her for his smoothie.

“Bro—she was talking,” Alex jokingly scolded William. “Here I was thinking there wasn’t anyone Loren disliked, but now I wanna hear this.”

“Who—wait… what’re we talking about?” William asked, confused.

Loren quickly replayed the conversation so he could catch up. He looked intrigued, as much as Alex seemed to be—this was a part of Loren’s life he had heard the least about, and he was about to find out why.

“So the deal with Kayla is that she sort of befriended me at a time when I was feeling pretty low in life - and in my relationship with Drew,” Loren began. “I was too embarrassed to admit to my closest friends and even my family of how bad things had gotten, so I leaned on her more than I should’ve. She pretended to care, but all the while, she was gossiping about me to everyone else in the group.”

Her eyes flicked between the two brothers as they listened. “Eventually, I realized that the things I told Kayla were then skewed and taken totally out of context, which would then get back to Drew through his friends. It was constant fighting and confrontations but then he’d back peddle and I’d fall into the same trap again. I think back and I don’t even remember the things he said that seemed to make everything okay. It was almost like being brainwashed.”

Loren sighed, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “So I was in a position that I had to move out of my apartment and Drew kept pushing for us to buy a house. It was one of the things I had wanted so badly but I could never afford it on my own. He had this whole song and dance about a big settlement he was waiting on from a past accident. It sounded believable—he even showed me paperwork. It started with him asking me to help him until it came through, and I did. I alone was approved for loans, opened lines of credit - he couldn’t do it because of his credit rating. I was so naive allowing him access. Then my dad cosigned for the house with me that had a cashback mortgage, and the money went into a joint access savings account. When he disappeared, I found out he’d drained everything with my name on it.”

William’s jaw tightened, his hands gripping the counter. This part, William already knew and it made his blood boil all over again.

Loren continued. “He had this whole scheme perfected. He made it look like he was trying to contribute, but in reality, he was still using resources from the last woman he conned. By the time he left, I had nothing but the house and a landslide of debt. That’s when I had to tell my parents. It was humiliating, but we figured out a plan to climb out of the hole he left me in.”

She took a breath, her voice softening. “Looking back, I should’ve seen it sooner, but I was so focused on trying to make things work. I kept convincing myself it was just a rough patch, that things would get better if I stuck it out. Thank God he left - but by the time he was through with me, with all the criticism and manipulation, I felt like I was just this shell of a person.”

She hesitated before continuing. “To make matters worse, there was another woman—Ashley—who I thought was a real friend. She didn’t seem to go along with the others, so I trusted her. I didn’t realize until it was too late that Drew and Ashley were secretly involved with each other. I walked in on them at a party—fucking in the bathroom.”

The kitchen was quiet enough to hear the white noise of the refrigerator humming. William sat frozen, a bottle of water halfway to his lips. He was seeing red listening to all of this, the bulging vein in his neck on full display.

Alex let out a low whistle, breaking the silence. “Well, holy fuck,” he said, shaking his head. “No wonder you’re not rushing to meet up with them - fucking soap opera.”

Loren chuckled and nodded. “Aren’t you glad you asked?” she nudged Alex playfully. Her eyes then settled on William’s face, his expression showing shades of disbelief of Loren’s story.

She eased up beside William as she began to gather her things to leave for an appointment. As usual, he wore nothing but his shorts and his slides, and Loren was quick to press her lips against the bare skin of his shoulder.

“So, on that happy note,” she quietly joked, “I better head out.”

Instead of his hold loosening, William pulled her body closer against him. “You’re coming back later, right? Before dinner, hopefully?”

She had been at William’s for the most part of the week and had intended on going home. But god, one look at his face….

She kissed where a trace of his smoothie lingered at the corner of his upper lip, then worked her way onto his full mouth. Mumbling against his lips, she said, “I’ll see you later. Let me know if anything changes for tonight, and I can go home.”

Alex, overhearing her last words, groaned and shook his head. “Please don’t. I can’t stand him looking so sulky and—” He rubbed his eyes and let out a mock whimper, chuckling as he glanced at his brother. As he padded off toward his bedroom, he called over his shoulder in Swedish, “Vi ses ikväll, Loren… ha en bra dag.” (See ya’ tonight, Loren… have a good day.) Glancing at William, he scoffed softly, chuckling as he disappeared down the hall.

“Sån åsna,” (such an ass) William muttered, shaking his head. His hand smoothed over Loren’s ass cheek as they started toward the door. “Anything you want tonight for dinner?”

“Food—and you… not necessarily in that order,” she replied suggestively, leaning in to give him one more lingering kiss for the road.

—

When Loren returned that evening, she got her wish—food and William, in no specific order—and the rare luxury of having the condo to themselves for the night (plus the dogs, of course). She glanced around the space, taking in his thoughtful touches: dimmed lights, candles flickering throughout, and the unmistakable tracks from one of William’s favorite playlists—entitled with their joint initials, “WNLG.” The slow, mellow songs had become their unofficial soundtrack, always leading to them being wrapped around each other before the second song was through.

After a coming-home kiss that made Loren melt, she slipped off her shoes and took in the warm ambiance William had created. He had wanted to do something for her after she’d shared the dysfunction from her past relationship. The gestures weren’t groundbreaking, nor were they born from pity or meant to erase her painful memories. They were simply a way to set the tone for their future together. And knowing Loren, candles, dinner, and him were all she needed to feel completely fulfilled.

He noticed the glossy white shopping bag dangling in her hand, his curiosity piqued. Hooking his finger into the top of the bag, he peeked inside, while his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. “Chocolate-dipped strawberries,” he said softly, with a smirk.

Loren brushed her lips against the warmth of his cheek. “I saw these, and they reminded me of Paris… and you.” Her lips traveled to William’s mouth, her words soft and full of meaning. The kiss deepened quickly, and the low groan that escaped him which made Loren press her thighs together.

Breaking slightly from the kiss, she smiled. “Let me get these into the fridge… I’ll be right back.”

As she walked down the hallway to the kitchen, her heart swelled with adoration. She shook her head and smiled to herself, still reeling from his intimate greeting. She honestly felt like she could float away with the way he made her feel.

When Loren returned to the living room, William was lounging on the couch, waiting for her. She knew William had a thoughtful and romantic side—it had shone through during their two weeks together in Sweden towards the end of the summer. But since the season had started, it wasn’t that his desire for romance had diminished… there just weren’t as many chances to be alone.

With the candles, the waiting dinner, the playful and often racy messages he’d sent her throughout the day, and the smoldering welcome she’d received tonight, it was clear William had seized this opportunity to have her to himself—and he’d nailed it.

Loren approached him and immediately saw the unmistakable glint of mischief mixed with lust in his eyes. He sat in his usual tank top, legs splayed in his black sweat pants and to Loren, there was no man on the planet that was as effortlessly sexy as William.

His eyes scanned her body and he had no qualms in letting her know how visually stunning he found her. “Is that what you looked like all day?” he asked playfully, reaching out for her hands and guiding her on top of him, straddling his hips.

She smiled at him and raised an eyebrow, and gently nodded. She was uncertain of exactly what he meant by his question, but knew it would lead to something that would make her heart, and other areas in her body, throb with wanting.

William’s palms slid upwards along the fabric of her white, buttoned down shirt, eventually smoothing over her breasts. He could hardly wait to see what bra she wore which contained her voluptuous tits as she started to unbutton her shirt. The worked together to shed her shirt and he groaned as he looked at the pristine white lace cups that supported her cleavage, right directly in his line of sight.

“I know I always say this but fuck - you’re fucking stunning” his voice raspy as he massaged her breasts and slowly kissed her neck.

Loren’s fingers raked through his hair, starting at the base of his neck and working upward, her patented move that never failed to arouse him further. Slowly, she rocked back and forth on his lap, her slow movement deliciously teasing. Her voice was soft, airy, and laced with a sensual undertone.

“And I always think, ‘So are you.’” She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “You’re seriously the most gorgeous man imaginable.”

With that, and in one fluid motion, he lifted her, guiding her onto her back on the couch as he knelt between her legs. His hands moved efficiently, unbuttoning her slacks and sliding them past her hips, down her legs, and off entirely. He paused for a moment, taking her in, reveling in the sight of her—this vision he had craved all day.

The stark white of her thong against her olive skin nearly sent William over the edge. He’d been picturing them in bed, sheets strewn everywhere for most of the night, but now, with the condo blissfully empty, every spot on the couch was fair game.

Without hesitation, William shed his sweats and shorts in one fluid motion. His arousal was evident, and Loren’s gaze drifted downward, she felt an instant urge to take him into her mouth. Before she could act however, William had other plans already in motion.

Gently, he propped Loren’s back against the cushioned arm of the couch, guiding her legs open as his hands skimmed down her thighs. He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto hers. He had thought about her all day, resisting the urge to manually relieve the pressure she ignited in him countless times. Now, he could worship her - he was determined to make her feel every iota of his desire for her that had been building.

Wetting his lips, he lowered himself between her legs, his gorgeous gaze fixed on hers gripped her soul. His saliva dampened the small strip of fabric that was the only barrier between his mouth and her clit. The tip of his tongue soon slid beneath the band of her thong, and he began teasing her entrance with steady and firm movement.

Her hands instinctively flew to his, grasping at him for support. The thin gold band he had given her recently graced her delicate thumb, reflecting the low lighting in his periphery. The sight only spurred him on - little by little, he looked forward to adorning her body with his deep admiration for her in every way imaginable.

Loren’s hips flexed purely from instinct, rocking back and forth against the sensation of William’s mouth as he lapped and gently sucked around her clit. He was so incredible with his mouth, it was as if his on-ice prowess translated seamlessly to the art of making a woman writhe with pleasure. He knew exactly how to guide his lips and tongue to find every spot that made her body tighten and shudder in response.

She always tried to keep her volume low, her breathy moans whispering his name just loud enough to stir his own desire. But he could tell when she was losing control—the way her hands clung to his hair, her thighs trembling against his shoulders. He would risk a noise complaint just to hear her let go completely, crying out as loudly as she needed.

Loren’s grip under her one knee, holding her legs open for him indented her skin, the beds of her fingernails were white. “Fuck William” constantly spilled out of her in the form of the hottest sounding moans. Her hair was a beautiful mess - half bunched against the pillow and half dangling off the side of the couch as her head leaned back from the unbridled ecstasy he kept pushing her towards.

He could have spent hours between Loren’s legs but he knew that, as much as she loved his mouth, she loved his cock. He had begun teasing her about the way she treats Cowboy Bill, the name she dubbed his cock months ago, and how he has become a whole other entity that she worships in the bedroom. Lingham massages were now in Loren’s rotation of her favourite things to do and William was not complaining.

William licked and kissed his way up her abdomen, stopping to suck on each of her taut nipples, now so sensitive that she gasped out his name as she tried to catch her breath. She slowly lifted her head, her pupils looked as black as night as her eyelids weighed heavily from so much stimulation between her thighs.

William kissed her so deeply with so much passion, she thought she might faint. She wrapped one arm behind his neck and the other around his shoulder as he lifted her slightly to lay her flat on the cushions and reposition himself, aligning his cock with her entrance.

His voice was low as he murmured against her lips. “Tell me what you want…what will make you cum…”

Loren’s eyes zeroed in on his. She didn’t speak right away, her chest still rising and falling rapidly.

She kissed him and lightly raked her fingernails down his chest and up his flank - she knew that drove him berserk in all the best ways. With mere millimeters from his lips, she answered breathlessly “Anything - I just want to feel like you can’t get enough of me.”

Done. Sold. Exactly what I had in mind - because I really can’t get enough he thought, as he kissed her fiercely.

The second he pushed inside her, Loren’s breath hitched, her body reacting instantly as her walls clenched tightly around him. William groaned low in his throat, his head lowering as he paused, the thick chain around his neck dangling between them as he steadied himself.

He began slowly, each thrust steady, but for Loren, the depth and force of his movements soon had her gasping. With every roll of his hips, he pushed deeper, her body reacting to him, their physical and emotional connection intensifying with each passing second.

Loren’s hands gripped tightly onto William’s ass, her nails digging into his skin as she urged him deeper. Every nerve in her body was electrified, the pressure in her core building to an almost unbearable intensity. It felt like one long, sustained orgasm—her body couldn’t get enough of him, yet it almost felt like it was on the edge of being too much.

Hooking the back of her knee over his forearm, he pinned her legs open wider, the other leg draped over the back of the couch. With her completely open to him, he drove into her with dizzying force, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing through the room. The couch cushions recoiled beneath her with every powerful thrust, subdued cries and moans of pleasure filling the space.

As he pushed deep into her and held himself there, Loren’s body reacted instinctively. Her hips rolled up to meet him, her hands gripping onto his hips and ass as she fucked him back. The sight of her body moving so desperately beneath him made William groan low in his throat - she was pure magic and he was completely blown away by her.

He spat onto her clit, his thumb immediately finding the incredibly sensitive spot he had discovered many passionate encounters ago. As he stroked her, his eyes were drawn to the way her abdomen muscles flexed and contracted with every movement. He could feel his balls tightening, the heat pooling low in his stomach, but he didn’t want to cum yet—not before her.

Her movements began to slow, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. William leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “You’re incredible. So fucking amazing. You feel so good, Loren.”

With that, he lifted her effortlessly, repositioning her once more. Her legs pinned wide apart, he thrust into her again, his pace unrelenting. The sound of their grunts, moans, and strained voices reverberated through the room, mixing with the creak of the couch beneath them.

Loren felt the familiar, unstoppable grip of her orgasm taking hold. Her body tightened, her hands clawing at the fabric of the couch cushion as her head turned, pressing against the armrest. “Oh my god, William!” she shrieked, her legs trying to close instinctively as high-voltage stimulation jolted through her.

William grunted and strained loudly, holding her legs open firmly as he continued driving into her. The sight of her quivering body, her hand over her mouth and the sound of her moans was his undoing. He thrusted deep into her one last time, his release spilling into her as he collapsed onto her.

They stayed there for a time, their bodies tangled together, his cock still buried inside her as he slowly stroked her from within. Loren’s breathing was uneven, her limbs slack as she melted into the cushions. He knew how dazed and dozy she got after moments like this, and he couldn’t stop the satisfied smirk from spreading across his face.

Eventually, he rolled onto his side, pulling her with him. They kissed lazily, their bodies glistening with a sheen of sweat from their exertion.

It took a while before they finally moved, sliding off the couch and adjusting the cushions back into place. Loren noticed a few marks left behind from their sexcapade and made a mental note to clean up the spots later. The couch was soon to be replaced as part of the condo renovations, so the evidence of their passion would only be temporary, one way or another.

Slipping her white shirt back on as a casual cover-up, Loren wandered into the kitchen, where William was pouring two glasses of wine and setting their take-out containers in the oven to warm. He handed her one of the glasses and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close as his lips found the curve of her neck.

“Hungry?” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and tender. Loren nodded, her hand smoothing over the back of his head as he leaned into her.

Before long, the two of them found themselves slow dancing in the kitchen, swaying gently to the music still streaming through the sound system.

After a quick shower together and a change into more comfortable clothes, William and Loren found themselves back in the kitchen. Loren, now dressed in one of William’s oversized hoodies and a pair of soft shorts, leaned against the counter, her hair still damp from the shower. William stood close by, barefoot in sweats and a simple tee, looking completely at ease as he slid the lids off their warmed take-out containers.

Without a second thought, they began eating directly out of the containers, passing them back and forth with teasing smiles and playful nudges. Loren couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle in her chest. To anyone else, it might have seemed unremarkable, but to her, standing there with him in their little bubble, this felt just as romantic as any candlelit dinner. Maybe more so.

Loren twirled a fettuccine noodle around her fork, pausing before bringing it to her mouth as a thought struck her. She set the fork down and looked up at William. “I really love this. I think I’d prefer this to any fancy dinner in the city. Everything about tonight has been so perfect… Tack min älskling.” She leaned in to kiss him gently, his arms wrapping securely around her.

William smiled against her lips before pulling back slightly. “I have to admit,” he began, hesitating as he searched for the right words, “the stuff you told us this morning—I’ve been thinking about it a lot today. Not in a bad way, but… how come I never knew about all that with your ex and those friends? Like… they’re seriously fucked up. I’m just a little surprised you’ve never mentioned it.”

Loren gazed at him, her smile soft and apologetic. “I never brought it up because, honestly, I don’t even think about it anymore. It’s like this blip in time that’s so insignificant now. It just… doesn’t matter enough to come up.”

William nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay… I get that.” He stabbed a rigatoni noodle onto his fork and offered it to her with a small smile. “But, uh… do you know if you’re going to meet up with what’s-her-face?”

Loren leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms loosely as she met his gaze. “I’m not sure. I don’t really see a reason to. Life’s been just fine without them. Honestly, I’m relieved they did me a massive favor by ending the whole faux-friendship thing we had going.” She reached for the wine bottle and poured the last of it into their glasses. “Do you think I should?”

William shrugged, his expression thoughtful. “Well… I mean, you owe them fuck all. But it might be interesting for them to see just how great you’re doing.”

Loren took a slow sip of her wine, considering his words. “I know you’re not saying I need their attention or validation, but… honestly? I couldn’t care less about that. On the other hand, if I go, I could see if anything’s really changed with Kayla or anyone else. If not, yeah, I might waste a couple of hours, but at least I’ll know where things stand.”

William tilted his head, his voice softening. “How about this—if you do meet them, don’t go to them. Have them come here. I’ll help you pick a nice spot. You meet up, and if you do it when I’m home, I’ll be there.”

Loren’s brows furrowed slightly, her expression caught between confusion and misgiving. “But—”

William shook his head, already anticipating her protest. “No buts. I’ll grab a spot—a table. I’ll bring some buddies, hang out nearby. You won’t even have to look at me if you don’t want to, but I’ll be close by. Just in case.”

Loren thought about it for a moment, her heart swelling at his thoughtfulness. Finally, she smiled. “I’ll think about it. And I guess if I get to glance at you once in a while… the night wouldn’t be a total waste.” She winked, clinking her glass gently against his.

The evening of Loren’s meetup with Kayla, Avrie, and Livia arrived in a flash after she had made arrangements the week prior. Following William’s suggestions, Loren requested the women make the 45-minute trek into the city, explaining she was swamped with meetings downtown. The highly-rated lounge William helped her choose, located on Queen Street West, was the perfect mix of cozy and eclectic—a beautiful spot for cocktails without feeling too pretentious.

Loren emerged from the bedroom into the kitchen, dressed in the outfit she’d carefully selected for the night. To her, it was simple—just a black turtleneck and pencil skirt paired with knee-high heeled boots. But to William, she was art in motion. With her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail and makeup applied flawlessly, she radiated effortless sophistication. A slow, wide grin spread across his face as he watched her move across the room.

“You look… wow,” he said, his voice warm and genuine.

Loren smiled softly, smoothing her skirt. “It’s just a turtleneck and a skirt.”

William chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not ‘just’ and not when it’s on a body like yours.”

The plan for the evening was straightforward enough. Alex and William, along with a few of William’s friends, would head to the same lounge about 30 minutes after Loren’s reservation time at 7:00. William had arranged for them to have a table nearby—close enough to keep an eye on things, but far enough to not be a distraction. The lounge staff, who were familiar with William from his years in Toronto, had no trouble accommodating their specific seating requests.

William’s primary goal was to be there for moral support without intruding, even if their carefully orchestrated plan made it feel like something out of a spy movie. Protecting their relationship in such a public space required a bit of strategy, but it was worth it.

There was also an element of playful mischief to William’s plan. If the women weren’t hockey fans, his presence might go unnoticed—but if they were, a well-timed bottle of champagne sent to their table by the Nylander brothers would surely make an impression. And if the moment called for it, William had no problem walking up, introducing himself, and appearing utterly captivated by Loren.

“Don’t stress about it too much,” William said as Loren checked her phone for updates. “It’s just a couple of hours, and by 9:00, we’ll be almost home, in bed by 10, and very satisfied by 11.” His smirk was down-right devilish as he leaned against the counter.

Loren cocked an eyebrow. “Or we can just cancel the potential shit-show and get started early,” she grinned. “Seriously though - William… thank you for sort of holding my hand through this part.” Loren walked up to him with a little seductive sway. “Can I eye fuck you a little from across the room?”

William chuckled. “Yeah - I think I’d be upset if you didn't.”

—

Midway through the second round of drinks—for everyone but Loren—Livia wrapped up her long-winded story about the drama swirling around her life over the past few years. Loren nursed her drink, smiling politely as she listened, all the while feeling a sense of detachment. Same group, same dynamics, same chaos. She realized that not much had changed for them since she left that part of her life behind.

Every now and then, Loren’s eyes flicked over to William. He was seated at a table across the lounge, laughing at something Alex had said. She caught him glancing her way more than once, his lips curling into a small, reassuring smile that calmed her nerves. Meanwhile, Alex was keeping her entertained with a steady stream of messages, most of which were filled with playful commentary about her companions.

Alex: Which one’s Kayla? The brunette with the long straight hair?

Loren: really Alex…jesus. **

Alex: What - is she up for a little action. Want me to bring her back with us tonight?

Loren: I will fucking start adding estrogen to your smoothies if you do.

She bit back a laugh, setting her phone aside as Kayla turned her attention to her. “So, Loren,” she began, leaning forward in her seat. “What’s your deal these days? Are you seeing anyone?”

“And where are you staying in the city?” Livia chimed in. “It must be nice to be downtown so much.”

“Also,” Avrie added, giving Loren an exaggerated once-over, “you have to tell us how you look like this now. You’re glowing.”

Loren smiled, holding her glass delicately in one hand. Her answers were vague but polite, carefully crafted to satisfy their curiosity without giving them a single piece of meaningful information.

She was amazed at how easily she could wordsmith her way through their questions, a skill she hadn’t fully appreciated until now. These women weren’t interested in her happiness or growth—they wanted gossip, diet hacks, and anything surface-level that could fuel their next group chat.

Loren’s tolerance was wearing thin. When Kayla called over the server for one more round, Loren decided to ask what their plan was for getting home. “Are you guys staying downtown tonight?” she inquired casually.

Kayla and Livia exchanged an awkward glance before Avrie offered a sheepish smile. “Uh, so… Ashley is our ride. She, um, kind of found out about the plan to meet up with you and asked to come tonight.”

Loren’s stomach flipped, though her expression didn’t falter. “Really…where is she?” she asked, her tone perfectly even.

Kayla nodded, looking mildly uncomfortable. “She said she might not come in and would just wait in the car. We made her the DD.”

The last time Loren had laid eyes on Ashley was the fateful night that she walked in on Drew railing her against a bathroom counter. She was so fragile then and she remembered it completely shattering what was left of her.

Loren sipped her drink to steady herself, forcing her hands to remain still. So much for mending fences, she thought bitterly. They didn’t come here to reconnect—they came to pry, to gossip. The realization made her feel foolish for even agreeing to this meeting.

Glancing at her phone, she noted the time. 7:56 p.m. She decided right then and there: come hell or high water, she was out of there no later than 9:00.

As Kayla launched into yet another anecdote, Loren subtly tapped out a quick message to William.

Loren: I think you’re having way more fun than I am lol

William: Probably. Keep up the eye fucking tho. I like it.

She hid her grin at the response. She resolved to stick it out just a little longer—not for them, but for herself. Just to be 100% certain with knowing they were still the same as they always were, and that she had long rid herself of the petty and toxic dynamics that once surrounded her.

After Avrie wrapped up her own synopsis of what’s wrong with everyone else in the world, Loren suddenly sensed the energy shift in the room, like an uncomfortable presence. When she finally turned, there was Ashley—approaching the table tentatively, shoulders rounded and head slightly bowed. It was a stark contrast to the Ashley Loren remembered, the one who used to stride into rooms like she owned them, commanding attention with her confidence and beguiling smile.

Now, Ashley looked… tired. Her eyes were shadowed, her posture meek. Loren’s skin bristled, tension gripping her muscles, but she forced herself to sit still. I can do this. Leaving in less than an hour - I’ve already made it this far.

Ashley greeted the table with a faint smile, her gaze flickering over Loren and lingering for just a moment longer than the others. “Hey Loren,” she said softly, visibly taken aback by Loren’s transformation.

Loren’s phone vibrated against the table, pulling her focus for a moment. The other women had been periodically scrolling their phones, so she didn’t feel bad about checking hers.

It was from William.

You good?

Another message popped up almost instantly from Alex:

Who dat?

Loren suppressed a smile and quickly replied, dat is Ashley 😬.

Glancing up, she caught William’s eyes from across the room. He gave her a subtle, questioning look, and she responded with a slight nod and a small smile. They exchanged a silent conversation with just their expressions—an unspoken reassurance that he was there if she needed him.

The conversation at the table flowed, at least on the surface. It was amicable enough, but Loren could feel the tension simmering beneath each exchange. Ashley didn’t say much, her words carefully chosen, as if she knew she wasn’t entirely welcome. Loren couldn’t decide if she felt pity for her or if her wariness outweighed everything else.

Then, as if on cue, a server approached the table, balancing a tray of champagne flutes filled with vibrant, sparkling concoctions. “Compliments of the gentlemen at that table,” he said, nodding toward William and Alex’s group.

Loren’s cheeks flushed as her gaze locked onto William’s once more. He was watching her, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. Her bashful grin spread across her face, and she bit her bottom lip to stifle a laugh.

“Wait, what?” Avrie blurted, spinning in her seat to look at the men. Recognition dawned on her face almost instantly. “Oh my god, that’s William Nylander.”

Kayla turned as well, her eyes widening as she made the connection. “And fuck, his brother’s there too… Jesus Christ.”

Avrie, the same one who had spent twenty minutes earlier gushing about her “amazing boyfriend,” leaned in conspiratorially. “Given the chance,” she said with a sly grin, “I’d easily make myself single for one night - even one hour - with him.” She nodded toward William. “I wouldn’t think twice and I sure wouldn’t feel guilty about it.”

Loren’s mouth dropped inside her mind at the thought, but she didn’t let it show. She sipped her drink, silently enjoying their reaction.

The women’s chatter about how they’d “take down” the Nylander brothers grew louder, making Loren’s cheeks flush even deeper. But just as the conversation was hitting a crescendo, William rose from his table. Her eyes followed him as he made his way toward them, his confident swagger impossible to miss.

Her breath caught slightly as he stopped at their table. His voice was warm and polite, but Loren could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hope you’re all having a good night,” he said smoothly, nodding to the group. “And I hope you’re enjoying the drinks.”

The women looked stunned, their mouths slightly agape, but William’s gaze had already landed on Loren. He tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I feel like I know you from somewhere,” he said, his tone tinged with playful sheepishness.

Loren raised an eyebrow, playing along. “We met briefly in March,” she said lightly, “the Easter Seals Skate.”

Recognition seemed to dawn on his face as he snapped his fingers. “That’s it. I knew you looked familiar. It’s good to see you.”

The exchange between them felt electric, as if no one else existed in that moment. The women at the table sat frozen, watching the scene unfold like a live tennis match. Although on the surface, their exchange was just polite banter—but their attraction to one another was palpable and electric.

Loren couldn’t help the small, satisfied smile that crept onto her face as William excused himself, flashing her one last look before walking back to his table. She glanced at the women, who were still staring after him, their faces a mix of shock and envy.

Well, that went better than expected, Loren thought, hiding her smirk behind her champagne flute.

Loren felt the weight of their collective gaze as their eyes locked onto her, the questions starting immediately.

“So… you know William Nylander?”

“Have you two slept together? What’s he like??”

“Is he single?”

“Have you met anyone else on the team?”

Their voices overlapped in a barrage of curiosity and thinly veiled prying. Loren stayed calm, her expression neutral, silently groaning over how shallow these women sounded. They were fishing for gossip just to pass along, feeding their own sense if superiority.

Loren began to respond to the questions as she remembered each one. “Well, like I mentioned, I met him in March,” Loren said simply, her voice even because it was true.

“It would be such a dream to be with him…like that…he’s a little out of my league though I think.” Again, Loren felt this was the truth…these have been her thoughts many times.

“It’s hard to know what’s truth and rumour - but I feel his career is his prime focus.”

“I’ve met a bunch of the guys on the team, the same way I met William….through a charity event that I helped raise money for.”

Her answers were direct, concise, and left no room for further interpretation. She smiled politely but didn’t elaborate, making it clear she had no intention of feeding their curiosity. The women exchanged glances, clearly unsatisfied but unable to push further without looking desperate.

“Well, that’s boring,” Avrie muttered under her breath, earning a light laugh from Kayla.

Loren sipped her drink, unbothered. This was their game - and she couldn’t have cared less.

A lull in the conversation gave Loren her opportunity. “Excuse me,” she said, standing and smoothing her skirt. “I’m just going to the washroom.”

She walked away, feeling their eyes on her back. Once she was out of sight, Loren pulled out her phone to text William to tell him he was absolutely amazing and to thank him again for being there. Before she could type the message, she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her. She turned to see Ashley walking toward her, her steps hesitant and tentative. Loren’s stomach twisted, but she didn’t say anything, opting to walk into the washroom instead.

Inside the stall, Loren’s phone buzzed, a text from William:

Did Ashley follow you in? Don’t like this. Pls call me if anything feels weird.

Loren exhaled deeply, her nerves suddenly on edge. She tapped out a quick reply: She’s coming in but it’s ok I think. I will call if I need you. Thank you my love.

The sound of the washroom door opening, followed by a stall door closing echoed in the room. Loren wasn’t sure whether to feel uneasy or just annoyed. The quiet stretched, punctuated only by the occasional sound of flushing water or ripping toilet paper.

Finally, as Loren stepped out to wash her hands, Ashley emerged as well. Their reflections met in the mirror, two very different women bound by a shared, messy history.

Ashley’s eyes floated to Loren’s reflection in the mirror, then quickly away, as though she couldn’t hold her gaze for long. Loren’s movements were slow and deliberate as she lathered her hands, pretending not to notice the tension radiating off the other woman.

“I wasn’t sure if I should even come tonight,” Ashley finally said, her voice soft, almost timid. “But I… I needed to.”

Loren’s hands stilled under the running water, but she didn’t look up. Instead, she grabbed a paper towel and dried her hands, giving Ashley space to continue.

“I wanted to tell you…” Ashley hesitated, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “I wanted to say how sorry I am. For everything. What I did to you… it still eats at me. You were the one of the most trustworthy - the most genuine person I’ve ever been friends with and I….well….I guess I don’t need to repeat what I did…,” Ashley’s trailed off.

Loren finally looked at her. Ashley’s shoulders were rounded, her once confident posture replaced with something that almost resembled shame. Her eyes, tired and brimming with tears, searched Loren’s face for any sign of forgiveness.

“I…” Loren started, then paused. She folded her arms across her chest, leaning slightly against the sink. “Ashley, I’m sorry this is something you still carry around…but it’s all in the past now - it’s been years. And yes, it was the hardest time in my life—and one of the lowest—but honestly, I’m beyond thankful for what happened.”

Ashley blinked, startled. “Thankful?”

Loren nodded. “It forced me to see people - to see everything as it truly was….Drew leaving, you ladies…well, I don’t want to drudge it all back up….but all of it, blessings in disguise.”

Ashley’s lips trembled as she bit down on them, nodding slowly. Loren could see the regret etched into her expression, and for the first time, she felt a sliver of sympathy..

Ashley exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m glad it worked out when he left you. Maybe the same will happen for me.”

Loren’s brows furrowed, confusion flashing across her face. “What do you mean?”

Ashley looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers. “Drew… after he left you, I stopped seeing him. He left for Alberta years ago but he came back and into my life about six months ago. I was so leery, but he seemed so different. Regretful. He charmed me, said all the right things, made me believe he’d changed. And for a while, I believed him.”

Loren’s stomach sank, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. “Ashley…”

Ashley’s voice wavered as she continued. “He hasn’t changed. If anything, he’s worse. Controlling, volatile… I can’t stand being at home with him. All I do is work just to avoid him, but even then…” Her voice broke, and she looked up at Loren, tears streaming down her cheeks. “But there’s something else. He’s been trying to figure out where your house is.”

Loren’s body tensed, her eyes widening. “What?”

Ashley nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “He saw you on that talk show, and then your online videos… he said he wanted to try to remember where your house is - so he could come by just to apologize for everything - but the neighborhood looks completely different with all the new houses that were built. I think it something that’s been really bothering him.”

Dread washed over Loren as her mind raced. Drew’s agitation, his fixation—it made her stomach twist into knots, a feeling that was still far too familiar and Drew was always the source of it.

Ashley’s voice cracked as she added, “I want - I - I think I need to get away from him, but I don’t know how. I don’t even know where to start.”

Loren steadied herself, forcing the siren going off in her head to quiet. She met Ashley’s tearful gaze and spoke calmly but firmly. “Ashley. Think of it this way: you have two choices. Either you stay and let him drain you until there’s nothing left, or you make a plan and get out.”

Ashley sobbed quietly, nodding but looking utterly lost. “I don’t know how - my mind is a mess….like all the time.”

“Do you have someone close to you that you trust? Anyone who can take you in, even just for a while?”

Ashley hesitated, then nodded faintly. “Maybe…”

“Then start there,” Loren said, her tone unwavering. “Pack a bag when he’s not around. Make sure you have money in an account with a bank card that he doesn’t have access to. Depending on how he reacts - and if he does react badly - keep track of everything. At least start a file with the police if it escalates - make them aware of what’s happening.”

Ashley wiped at her tears, nodding again. Loren’s heart clenched, torn between wanting to help, the flash thought of giving Ashley shelter popped into her mind - but she corrected herself quickly - she had to keep her own boundaries intact.

As they left the washroom, Loren’s mind was buzzing with everything Ashley had shared. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt, however, when she looked up and saw William at the bar—talking to Drew.

Her blood ran cold. Ashley froze beside her, her face pale. Neither of them had expected this.

William’s smile disappeared the moment he saw Loren and Ashley reenter the room. The way she looked - her jaw clenched and her eyes scanning the bar - he knew something was up. He looked back at the man he’d been casually chatting with moments earlier. The man’s expression had turned dark and menacing. William gut instinct was that it was Drew sitting there. He felt the tension radiating off Loren even as she kept her composure as best as she could.

As the women moved closer to the bar, Ashley leaned in close to Loren, her voice trembling as she spoke under her breath, “He must’ve seen my messages. I—maybe he took my phone while I was asleep?”

Loren whispered a simple “it’s ok” as a response.

Instead of acknowledging Drew, Loren’s focus zeroed in on William. She offered him a polite smile and softly thanked him. “Thanks for the drinks. It was nice to see you again.” The undercurrent in her tone was clear—she wanted to leave.

William caught on immediately. Without a word, but with a smile to acknowledge Loren’s appreciation, he turned back to the manager and finished up their conversation. He thanked him for his help and made arrangements to cover both Loren’s table and his own. As William prepared to return to his table, he glanced at Drew, who lingered at the bar, pretending not to notice their exchange. “Have a good night,” William said tersely, his voice just loud enough, then muttered motherfucker under his breath as he walked away.

Drew, sensing the shift in the air, seemed to pick up on the silent watchfulness of the bartender and the manager. He remained at the bar, his earlier boastfulness noticeably absent.

Loren and Ashley returned to the table, where Kayla, Avrie, and Livia stared at them with mild shock on their faces. Loren, remaining composed, offered only a dry half-smile. “Well,” she said lightly, “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

The cattiness that usually was so prevalent in the group wasn’t there; even they couldn’t argue against Loren’s decision to leave. The server arrived with another round of drinks for the remaining three women and a virgin concoction for Ashley, announcing that the bill had already been taken care of. Loren reached for her coat, and while quickly slipping it on, she realized so happy and free she felt. She really had no ties to any of these women, or better yet, no ties to the narcissist of a man that was once in her life sitting at the bar ruminating about all the cunts in the world that cause him problems.

She pulled a small wad of cash from her purse and left it on the table. “A little extra for the server,” she said, knowing full well the others wouldn’t follow suit.

She wished the ladies well but before turning to leave, Loren put her hands on Ashley’s shoulders and leaned her head down. In the softest, most discreet tone, she said, “Take care of yourself. And if you have no other options… reach out. I’ll try to help.”

Ashley’s eyes filled with something that looked like a mixture of shame and gratitude. She nodded faintly, her lips trembling as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Loren didn’t spare another glance in Drew’s direction as she slipped through the lounge doors and out into the crisp night air. The crowd inside shifted easily to fill the space she left behind, and within moments, it was as though she was never there.

While Kayla was quick to start the proceedings and grill Ashley demanding to know what all was said in the washroom and at the bar, Avrie had a Swede on her mind. She swiveled in her seat, scanning the room for any lingering signs of the Nylanders. “Do you think they’re still here?” she asked, her neck craning to search the space.

The answer came quickly enough. Their table, once occupied by William, Alex, and their friends, was now empty. The servers were already clearing it for the next group of patrons. Whatever hopes Avrie had for an illicit encounter with William vanished as she turned back to her drink with a pout.

Meanwhile, Loren and William were in the backseat of his friend Mark’s SUV, with Alex sat in the front. As Mark drove toward the condo, Loren sat quietly holding William’s hand looking out the window at the exterior lights of the many bars and restaurants in the area. The chatter from Alex and Mark in the front brought her mind back, a mix of disbelief and adrenaline fueled their commentary about the events of the evening.

“That’s unbelievable that you were just standing there, chatting with some random guy,” Alex said, shaking his head. “And it turns out to be him - the douchebag.”

William’s grip on Loren’s hand tightened slightly, the tension in his shoulders beginning to become bothersome.

Mark chimed in with a low whistle. “That guy - sorry Loren - he’s a real piece of work, though. You could just see how much of a piece of shit he really was.”

Loren finally glanced over at William, her hand slipping onto his thigh. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice filled with meaning.

William glanced at her briefly, his features softening. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured. “I just want to get you home.”

The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. As Mark dropped them off, William’s hand found Loren’s waist as they walked in, giving it a reassuring squeeze. In that moment, she felt the weight of the evening begin to lift. They were all safely back in the warmth and comfort of the condo, with Pablo and Banksy anxiously waiting for their return.

Later that night, with the dogs softly snoring at the foot of the bed and the city quiet outside their windows, William and Loren lay tangled together under the covers. Loren rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing patterns along his abdomen.

She’d just finished recounting her conversation with Ashley in the washroom, and William’s hand absently ran up and down her back as he listened. When she was done, he shook his head, letting out a low groan.

“I think you need to cut all ties,” he said bluntly, though the softness in his voice made it clear he wasn’t being critical. "And - fuck, I don't feel right about you being alone at your house. Even if that motherfucker can't remember which one his your house, that shit really bothers me. We'll look at getting one of those camera systems, okay?" William paused and then began to tease. "Jesus, I mean, I thought my friend group in Stockholm had its fair share of drama, but your ex-life? It takes the prize.”

Loren chuckled softly, her breath warm against his skin. “With Ashley, I would only help her if she had absolutely no other options, William. I’m not about to jump back into a situation that isn’t mine to fix.”

William tipped her chin up with his fingers, his lips brushing hers. “What is it you always say?” His voice was quiet, teasing. “Not my—?”

Loren smiled, kissing him lightly before finishing the sentence. “Not my sink, not my dishes.”

William laughed, his chest rumbling against her cheek. “I’ve only ever heard ‘Not my circus, not my monkeys.’”

Loren tilted her head, pretending to ponder this. “Oh right - that’s the better one,” she admitted before her lips twitched mischievously. “How about ‘Not my pig, not my farm’.”

William smirked, leaning down to kiss her again. “Ok….’Not my...’?” He paused, clearly stumped as his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck - I got nothing.”

Loren further countered with “Not my cow, not my pasture.”

William let out a groan of mock defeat, rolling her onto her back and hovering over her. “Okay, well now you’re just showing off.”

“Maybe,” she teased, her hands sliding into his hair as he kissed her deeply. “Don’t you love it when I get all showy?”

“Showy….maybe,” his voice low and playful as his lips trailed down her neck. “You wanna show me something?”

Loren giggled, wrapping her arms around him. In that moment, the weight of the evening dissolved entirely, replaced by the laughter and warmth of a man that she was deeply in love with.

I hope you enjoyed this, Nonnie ❤️

[gravedwe11er]

Echoes through the cosmos

My friend @cosmique-oddity had a brilliant idea about mecha AU Coswave and I had to write my own take on it. Make sure to check out his wondeful writing/art for this concept too! We're posting our works in tandem, so by the time you see this, it should be on his blog.

Aaanyway, this was supposed to be a short one-shot. It is not. Part two and three will be coming soon. As always, based on the Mecha AU by @keferon.

When he was a kid, the first book he’d ever gotten was a children’s space encyclopedia.

Secrets of the cosmos, it was titled, and he’d fallen in love with it at first glance. It talked about planets and stars and the possibilities of alien life, and he’d carried it around everywhere for years, so much so that it earned him the nickname Cosmos from his peers. It might have been a little mocking at the time, but he’d refused to take it as an insult - quite the opposite, really, and eventually, it stuck.

On clear nights, he’d sometimes sneak out of his house after bedtime, lie down on the grass and just look at the sky. He’d watch the stars flicker, thinking of distant planets filled with cool alien people. Imagined himself meeting them one day, leaving Earth behind for greater adventures and new friends, and whenever he saw a shooting star, only one wish ever came to mind – “I want to meet an alien someday!”

In retrospect, perhaps he should have wished for something else. Chocolate cake for breakfast, maybe.

Because the aliens came. And unlike in the movies, they came with little fanfare; no dramatic declarations of war, no menacing signals sent over the airwaves or bright lights in the sky. They just dropped down from atmo and started ripping humanity to pieces.

Cosmos, who at that point had been in his last year of college and working an internship at decently large observatory, got pretty much front row seats to the first planetfall. The quintessons hadn’t bothered to hide. Hadn’t needed to, really – they’d had too much of an upper hand to worry much about human defense forces.

Life after that was a bit of a blur. The shatterdomes sprung up in a matter of months, humanity started fighting back and actually winning sometimes. Cosmos graduated and got hired immediately as one of the many, many people monitoring satellite data, watching for any incoming quint dropships.

And while yes, even a few minutes of warning ahead of an incoming enemy drop could save thousands of lives, it was never quite enough. New mecha were being made constantly, but such things take time, and the losses kept mounting. Clearly, something else needed to be done.

Which is how Cosmos finds himself here, orbiting some twenty thousand kilometers away from Earth in a haphazard little shoebox of an observation station, all alone in the void between worlds.

Well, to be fair, the actual scientific equipment of the station is top of the line. It’s just the everything else that his bosses on Earth skimped out on. The interior is cramped, dull and grey, with only the bare necessities needed for his long-term functioning as a glorified space cameraman. His days are fairly monotone too – exercise routines to keep up his muscle and bone density twice a day, interspersed with long hours of going over telescope footage, checking for enemy signals and keeping an eye out for any potential anomalies.

Now, despite his occasional grumblings about the quality of life here, he’s not really bothered by most of it. Besides, he gets it – there’s only so many resources the world can spare. He’s fulfilling his dream and helping save lives in the process, so he can put up with a little discomfort. It’s still better than his old college dorm, that’s for sure.

He is in space. Actually in space. That little detail sort of makes up for a majority of the gripes he has about the station.

All except one.

When he signed up for this mission, he knew he’d be alone up here. He just didn’t know how much it would ache.

For the record, it’s not like he’s completely cut off from others- that’d be a one-way ticket to madness, and even the most heartless of higher-ups know it. They’d given him a fast internet connection and permission to make as many video calls as he needs, as long as it doesn’t affect his work. He has his parents back on Earth, and his fellow watchmen are usually up for a quick chat, but- It’s not the same. It’s not nearly enough.

Nothing can replace seeing another living being with his own eyes, a casual pat on the shoulder or just the simple warmth of a person existing in your general vicinity. The longer he stays here, the more chill seeps into his bones, into his very soul.

Soma days, it’s as if there’s a layer of frost underneath his skin, and he’s not sure how long he can take it before he shatters.

Cosmos is sipping on his breakfast coffee when the main console pings, the custom alert he’s set for this specific anomaly making him scramble for the railings immediately. Floating over, he goes to check the data, and- yeah, there it is again.

These signals have been a mystery for the past month now. As of yet, the only thing anyone knows about them is that they’re not from the quintessons and are seemingly completely random. Mission control stopped caring about them once they figured out they’re not of enemy origin, but he and a few of his fellow watchmen have been trying their best to learn more. Command hasn’t told them to quit it yet, so Cosmos assumes they don’t mind, at least.

Not that they’ve really gotten anywhere. A few times a day, the signal will originate from seemingly nowhere, just barely strong enough to be noted, bounce around a few satellites and disappear. No pattern that they can see, no changes in strength or even any indication as to its purpose. It’s just- there.

So far, it looks like he’s not figuring it out today either. Still, he logs the data into his personal file and straps himself into his chair; might as well get to work, since he’s already here.

The quintesson warships have their drop off point on the edge of the asteroid belt, about halfway between Jupiter and Mars. Same place every time. Scientists down on Earth have been throwing around theories as to why, talking about wormholes, string theory and weak spots in the time-space continuum, but it’s more speculation than anything for the most part. Faster than light travel was supposed to be the stuff of fiction after all, but here they are. One moment there’s empty space, and next there is a warship. Really exciting stuff, really! It would just be a lot better if it wasn’t being used to ruin his home.

The quints’ sub light engines reach some impressive speeds as well, but they’re still slow enough to give the people on Earth half a day’s notice before they make planetfall, provided they’re informed the moment the ships appear. Which is why Cosmos is here, watching both the space around both the planet itself and the drop-off zone, warning of incoming attacks. Or, well, to be more precise- he’s mostly watching over the equipment doing all those things, and making sure it keeps doing them no matter what. The human failsafe, so to speak.

It's a bit of a hurry up and wait sort of job. The few days after a drop, it’s constant reports and data being sent back and forth, trying to decipher enemy comms and a simmering worry in his gut as he hopes the pilots down there manage to fend off the quints without heavy casualties. Then, it’s back to long silences and practically twiddling his thumbs, waiting for the chaos to erupt once again.

Which brings him back to the signals. They’re something to break up the monotony, something to occupy his thought on the days when the systems have nothing else to report, like today. Or the past two weeks.

That is why, when a small group of quints suddenly peels off from behind Earth’s mass, heading full speed in his general direction, Cosmos nearly suffers a heart attack. The station’s sensors scream at him, and he may or may not begin panicking a little. He’s a sitting duck here- the station has no defensive capabilities, and no shuttle could get to him fast enough. That is, if they even bothered to try in the first place.

But- as he’s trying and failing to open a last call to his family with shaking fingers, he notices the quintessons slowing down to a stop, still nowhere near his position. Instead, they seem to be targeting - he types a few commands into the sensory array with clammy hands - a communications satellite? It looks like any of the thousands of others like it, ESA make, if he had to guess, so why-

And then the satellite- moves. Parts of it shift around each other, forming what looks like limbs and a head, and- no, okay, what?

The satellite, which is now very much not a satellite anymore, opens fire at the quints. Cosmos watches the scene through several sets of digital eyes, mind reeling as the small enemy platoon is- well, torn to shreds, to put it mildly. Whatever this mech is, it’s incredibly efficient, dodging between enemy strikes and dealing devastating blows of its own. His own? Is there a pilot in there? He doesn’t think so; if such technology was in use, he’d have known about it.

Then again, it could be a prototype of some sort. A secret project, maybe? That sounds slightly more plausible, but still- look, Cosmos is no mecha engineer, but even he can recognize something for being wildly out of human technological scope when he sees it. Which leaves only one remaining option, really.

Whatever this is, it’s not from Earth.

And yeah, alright, shit. That’s- well, it’s probably not a bad thing? Seeing as it just sliced through a bunch of quints like a knife through butter, it’s safe to assume it’s not aligned with them. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right? God, Cosmos certainly hopes so, at least.

As the last of the quintessons die, their bodies floating off into the distance, the station’s alarms turn off one by one. All except his custom one, that is. The cheery little chime keeps on ringing, one screen off to the side showing the same odd signal he’s been tracking for weeks now, only stronger. Much, much stronger. Having started the moment the satellite changed shape, the signal keeps going, now recognizable as a multi-layered frequency and coming directly from the alien mech itself.

He's not sure if it’s the adrenaline, his innate curiosity or just plain madness, but Cosmos does something very, very stupid. With still shaking fingers, he tunes into the frequency, puts his headset on, and calls out.

“Unknown craft, this is Cosmos of the Hermes-9, please-“ his voice hitches. Swallowing tightly, he continues, “please identify yourself. I repeat, this is Cosmos of the Hermes-9, unknows craft, please identify yourself. Over.”

For a few moments, the silence is deafening as Cosmos waits for an answer, fear and anticipation mixing in his gut. Then, the mech turns around. Two glowing red optics look straight at him, as if bypassing the hull of his station and piercing through his very soul. His screens black out one by one in rapid succession, words draping themselves across the darkened expanse like stars against the endless void of the universe.

[Designation: Soundwave.]

[rcmclachlan]

Would love to see some Post Doheny park meeting and/or permission slip! (@ambernotember)

One of my favorite alternate meeting headcanons is the Doheny Park incident in 2x14. Can you imagine s2 Buck meeting the pilot who dropped out of the sky and saved their asses like he was an angel on a mission from god? He'd lose his fucking mind.

Once they're back in the truck, Hen whips out her phone, murmuring something about notifying Denny's after-school program that she was going to be late picking him up, and blinks down at the screen. "Well, that solves that mystery." 

She holds out her phone to Buck and Eddie. There's a text from Chimney: Cashed in a favor from an old friend. No need to thank me! followed by an airplane emoji, a helicopter emoji, a flame emoji, and roughly eight-hundred grinning emojis.

Not a miracle after all, then. It's probably best to leave the religious adulation to Eddie. 

"'An old friend'?" Eddie asks, dubious. 

Buck makes a face. "Since when does Chim have friends who aren't us?"

Considering Chim is recovering from being stabbed by his sister's now delightfully dead ex-husband, that's probably a little uncalled for, but so is the boot he takes to the shin for it. 

wip titles game

[myloversgone]

Dean x OFC: Short and Sweet

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Maisie (OFC)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MASTERLIST

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

"Hey, Dean", Sam had called.

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam chuckled, shaking his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No worries, sweetheart".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

Damn, he’s hot, she thought.

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

Maisie laughed, finding his unashamed flirtation amusing.

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

“You’re welcome, sweetheart”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Morning”, he greeted, holding his breath.

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

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

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

“Anytime, sweetheart”.

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The first time they kissed was totally unexpected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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38 days later

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

“Hey, Sammy”.

“Yeah”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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3 hours later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maisie started crying the minute Dean finished his question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, brother. Give him your worst”.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, it’s fine”, Dean answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean? Wake up”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”, Dean questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey”.

“Hey, you”, she replied in a whisper.

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

“I’m- I’m gonna be fine, I guess”.

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

She interrupted his thoughts by calling his name.

“What, sweetheart?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yes! Dean, I’m-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So, what?", Sam asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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5 years later – after Purgatory

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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10 years later – Lebanon, Kansas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END.

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

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Firstly can I just say how much I genuinely enjoy your stories! They are so amazing and I love getting to read them and look forward to when you post new ones.

I'm usually pretty shy with requests but I do have one for your recent Yandere Klaus ask you posted.

It's a MDLB relationship dynamic but reader is not the yandere, Klaus is. Reader is apart of the scooby gang or in general is associated in some way against Klaus. She however treats him with kindness, maybe gives him hugs after finding him upset about something or calming him down. He doesn't quite know that he's a little at first but he knows that she makes him feel safe so he begins to get possessive over her. He eventually finds out she's a MD and its like a switch goes off in his head, She can't see her friends or family because she needs to take care of him type of vibes. He starts acting smaller towards her and acting out any time she tries to leave (more in a hey I'll be gone for a few hours not a I'm trying to run away from you). She's able to calm him down and reprimand him for brattiness. Smutty stuff eventually ensues after some time in her role as his MD.

The rest can be up to you :)

P.S. I hope you're feeling better!! I know you were sick a few weeks ago and hope your recovery and new year have been good.

Discovering his Little Side -Klaus M.

I think it goes without saying that this is an Md/Lb fic. Klaus is Little and OC is his Mommy that he is very possessive of.

Warning: Md/Lb Relationship, Klaus is a Little, Yandere Behavior, Smut, Oral-Fem Receiving, Mentions of Punishment, Teasing/Masturbation

This is an Age Regression fic

Don’t Like=Don’t Read!

Also, Thank You for your concern and asking after me (from everyone). I got so many messages asking how I’ve been doing and hoping I feel better and I absolutely am, thank you all for thinking of me like that! I don’t have any friends in my real life, honestly I just have my mom and that’s it (as sad and pathetic as that sounds) so to have so many people hoping I feel better was beyond heart warming and I love and appreciate you all so much!💕💕🥰😘

He didn’t know at first what the feeling really was, all he knew was that she felt good.

After everything that had happened with Mikael she stayed, it surprised him but what surprised him more was her sitting before him on the front step and hugging him. Klaus had never really been one for hugging but this felt good, it felt wonderful actually and he didn’t want it to stop. He couldn’t tell you when he had leaned down and buried his face into her belly with his arms around her but he did, and he held on tight.

Klaus had held onto her for the rest of the night, or at least most of it as she was gone from his bed that she’d moved him to when he’d gotten a chill-which he’d found sweet, he was 1000 year old Hybrid and she was taking care of him…and he liked it.

He needed to control himself, Y/n wasn’t his, he had no right or reason to be feeling this possessive energy but he does and now it was unmistakable.

He got close to her when he could, buying her drinks at the bar and pulling her into conversation, even sending her flowers once which she thanked him for the next day with a soft kiss to his nose that made him feel smaller than he thinks he ever had in his undead life.

He couldn’t pinpoint what it was until seeing something that made his blood boil like never before.

As Klaus walked into the Grille he saw Y/n rolling her eyes as she wiped Damon’s mouth with a napkin which made the young vampire groan and insist she “stop ‘Mommying’ him”. All at once it hit Klaus what this was, what it had all been, how she had been making him feel so small and why he and especially his wolf had been so possessive.

He knew of age regression of course, it wasn’t a new thing, though it was more common now. Y/n is a MommyDom and she had comforted him when she saw how much he needed it like any good Mommy would. It was at that moment that it was decided, she would be his and he would never let her out of his sight again.

He stayed at the Grille with her that night, drinking and talking, allowing himself to relax with her in the booth they had taken over in the back, even allowing her to run her fingers through his hair sweetly. Klaus brought her back to his home that night and leant her a shirt to sleep in, snuggling up to her body with his head on her belly and her fingers, once again, in his hair.

Klaus awoke the next morning with a smile on his face. That is until he realized what was happening, Y/n was looking for her clothes which Klaus had put into his hamper so she wouldn’t find them right away.

‘Leaving so soon?’ He asked, her head popping up in surprise and Klaus had to admit that even he was a bit shocked by how small he sounded in that moment.

‘Yeah, I figured me leaving before your siblings saw me might be easier. Don’t need Kol and Rebekah asking a million questions and making you dagger them again.’ She teased, bending over to glance under the bed and giving Klaus an eyeful of her perfect ass in only her lace panties as his shirt rode up on her. He shoved the blankets over his crotch as his cock hardened unbelievably fast but he couldn’t help his whimper which seemed to catch her attention as she looked up at him questioningly. ‘Are you alright?’ He nodded quickly and she smiled softly, going back to looking for her clothes. Y/n knew you couldn’t force someone into their headspace, it could be dangerous and painful, especially for someone like Klaus who is a sweet little boy but doesn’t seem to even know it at all.

‘Don’t leave?’ He spoke, not wanting it to sound pleading but it really did.

‘Okay, and then what? You and I hide out up here all day together? Don’t be silly, I’m sure you have things to do today and I promised Damon I would binge some horror movies with him since Elena ditched him for Stefan again.’

At the meer mention of Damon’s name a rage unlike normal built in his belly and he growled. ‘Stay!’ He demanded, not realizing how incredibly childish he sounded but making Y/n giggle which just made him more mad.

‘Klaus. Calm down. We can hang out again if you want-‘

‘Mommy Stays!’ He snapped and her head popped up over the footboard where she had been searching for her clothes, eyes wide in shock.

‘W-What did you just say?’ She asked cautiously, not wanting someone as dangerous and volatile as Klaus to freak out if he felt cornered or teased.

His face was bright red as his eyes widened but Klaus knew it was now or never and he didn’t want to lose her, especially not to Damon and his whiney ass. ‘I-I said…M-Mommy stays…please? Stay with me Mommy?’ His face had softened and he looked too precious for Y/n to say “No” even if she wanted to which she didn’t.

‘Is that what you really want? You want me to be your Mommy? This isn’t a game Niklaus, and I will not be played with like a pawn-‘ he shook his head rapidly, crawling across the bed to grab the shirt she wore and pull her back in and against his chest where he nuzzled her hair.

‘No…only fun games with my Mommy…snuggle me-Please?’ He begged and she took his cheeks between her hands, pecking his lips softly.

‘Of course baby boy, my boy gets all the snuggles he wants. Always.’ Y/n pulled him with her to lay down on the bed, pressing his head to lay on her breasts as she ran her fingers through his blond locks. The Hybrid allowed himself to relax against her and close his eyes, feeling safe in someone’s arms for what felt like the first time in his existence.

That was the beginning of their relationship.

Y/n was his Mommy and to her surprise, he was never embarrassed to call her that, not correcting himself in front of his siblings in any way. None of them said anything (probably not wanting to get daggered if they upset or offended him), Elijah even calling her whenever Klaus’ anger took hold of him once again to get her to gain control of the situation and saving both Rebekah and Kol more than once.

Klaus quickly learned that his Mommy would not tolerate his attitude and he calmed himself around her as often as he could to keep from getting punished again.

He hated punishments.

Y/n never once struck him, never smacking or spanking him in any way as she knew how badly her baby boy had been abused in his human life. She refused to make him feel like he was that scared child again, though she did insist on punishments that didn’t cause him physical pain but instead pure frustration. She started off giving him punishments where he had to stand in a corner and stare at the wall for 20 minutes. However as their relationship became more serious and they began exploring sexual intimacy (which she did not allow until almost 2 weeks after he first asked her to stay with him as she insisted he become completely comfortable in his Little headspace first) she would instead force him to watch her touch herself and refuse to let him help or touch himself in any way. Klaus hated this punishment more than any other, loving to see his Mommy in his bed completely bare but loathing not being able to touch her or make her feel good.

Klaus had always been greedy when it came to sex, not that he didn’t know how to make a women feel good but in 1000 years of one night stands (and only 2 real relationships) he didn’t usually care about the pleasure of women that were going to be his meal later that evening. With his Mommy though, it was completely different.

He loved making his Mommy feel good. He would eat her pussy for hours if she would let him, fuck her all night and never get tired of seeing the look on her face as she came apart for him. Nothing made Klaus happier than feeling and seeing his Mommy cum on his cock before telling him what a “good boy” he is, it was his favorite thing in the world to know that she was pleased with him, that he had made her feel good where all other men had failed.

The knowledge that the 2 other men his Mommy had been in a relationship with both had no clue how to make her feel good brought him immense joy. Though it also let him know that she had been deprived of pleasure for so many years and now he needed to make up for lost time. It was a belief he held that she told him “wasn’t necessary” but he knew different, his Mommy deserved to be taken care of and given orgasms all day every day. He wished she would allow it of him but she didn’t, she insisted she take care of him first…which he loved (though he would never admit it). More than anything Klaus just wanted to be with his Mommy at all times, however, for whatever reason, she didn’t allow it of him and that more than anything was why he ended up being punished just like right now.

‘Can I come out now, Mommy?’ Klaus asked softly, keeping his voice light, wanting her to feel sorry and shorten his punishment.

‘Are you finished behaving like a brat?’ She asked and he nodded his head quickly, needing her to forgive him more than anything. ‘Alright, you can come out baby.’

Klaus was beside her not even a second later, nuzzling his face into her neck with his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. ‘Don’t leave me, Mommy? Please? I’m sorry I didn’t listen but-‘

‘Nikky! Hey, stop that. You broke a rule and you were punished, now that punishment is over which means you are forgiven. Do you understand? You get punished and then you are forgiven, Mommy doesn’t hold grudges against her baby. Alright?’ Klaus looked up from her chest and loved the sincerity that she held in her eyes. Her eyes were always so expressive that he could tell how she was feeling all the time. She truly meant it, his Mommy had never once held onto her anger, once he was punished it was over and he was truly forgiven.

‘Yes Mommy, but-‘

‘Baby, this is not a punishment. I made these plans with Damon months ago, it has nothing to do with you, I’ve been waiting to see this show for years.’ Klaus opened his mouth to speak but Y/n placed her hand over his mouth to keep him from speaking again. ‘I’m not upset with you, I’m not doing this to hurt you, Damon is my friend and as my friend he got us tickets to see tonight’s show. I will be home around midnight, I will text you-‘

‘No. Come back here after the play, I want my Mommy in my bed with me…I will wait for you.’ He swore and Y/n sighed, shaking her head.

‘No you will not little one. My baby boy will be in his bed asleep. However, if it means that much to you then I will have Damon drop me off here instead of home tonight. Does that make you feel better?’ It didn’t. Klaus has absolutely no intention of allowing her to go out with Damon tonight, but she doesn’t need to know that it is him that’s going to ensure his Mommy gets stood up tonight. He doesn’t like the idea of his Mommy being stood up in any capacity, however he will be right here to comfort her and so he will keep her from being too upset.

‘Yes Mommy…I just don’t like you going out with an asshole like Damon. I don’t want him to hurt you-‘

‘He’s not going to hurt me. We’ve been friends since long before you and I met. You had better watch your language as well, I don’t want to have to punish you twice in one night.’ She teased, though he could also see her serious undertone.

‘Yes Mommy, I’m sorry. I’ll wait on the porch with you.’ He quickly insisted, jumping up from the bed and moving to pull his boots on before she could argue.

Klaus helped her get her jacket on and handed her the bag he knew she was taking before walking out to the porch with her. He made a show of bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet which made Y/n giggle. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing…just gotta pee…’ he mumbled making her laugh even more.

‘Go to the bathroom, silly boy. You don’t need to wait with me-‘

‘I’ll be right back!’ He insisted, kissing her cheek and running inside. He quickly ran out the back door and made his way to the boarding house as quickly as possible where he found Damon pulling on his jacket.

‘What the hell are you doing here? Isn’t it bad enough that I have to pick her up from your house?’ Damon complained but Klaus just rolled his eyes before pinning Damon to the wall and locking their eyes to compel him.

‘You will compel yourself another date when you get to the play, you want nothing to do with Y/n anymore now that she is with me. You will not answer your phone for her tonight and you’ll block her number after she calls you but you will post a picture of you at the show with your date. In the future, when she asks you what’s going on and why you stood her up you’ll tell her that she chose to be with me and you won’t be friends with Klaus’ girlfriend. You will not remember any of this, or me compelling you.’ Klaus could see Damon’s eyes dilate and he knew the compulsion had worked as he looked dazed before walking to his car.

Klaus made his way home quickly and went back to the porch where he found Y/n sitting on the swing, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around her as he sat down. ‘Thank you sweet boy. You’re always so thoughtful.’ She smiled making him blush.

‘Don’t want my Mommy getting sick.’ He told her as he moved to lay with his head on her lap, knowing she would play with his hair which he always loved. ‘What time is the play?’ He mumbled in question after about 20 minutes.

‘It starts in 10 minutes. He should have been here 15 minutes ago…it’s not like Damon to be late.’ She said as she thought deeply.

‘Maybe he forgot it was tonight. Try calling him.’ He prompted, rolling over to lay with his face in her tummy. ‘Not that I mind him being late, I’m quite comfortable here.’ He hummed, smiling up at her and making her snort, brushing her fingers through his hair while her other hand called Damon.

‘It’s not like him not to answer…I’ll try Stefan.’ She said, calling his brother instead and Klaus heard him answer on the second ring. ‘Hey Stefan, is Damon there? He’s not answering his phone and he’s really late.’

‘Oh, he left already…like 20 minutes ago. Sorry…try calling him again.’ Stefan responded and Klaus watched her face fall.

‘Yeah…yeah, I’ll try that. Thanks.’ She mumbled, hanging up. ‘Did he stand me up?’ She asked, more to herself than to him Klaus assumed but he answered anyway.

‘If he did then he’s the biggest idiot I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something. I’ve been alive a long time, I’ve met a lot of idiots.’ He teased and got a little giggle through her tears while she called his number again.

‘He…he blocked my number…asshole!’ She cursed, throwing her phone angrily and they both watched it smash into a hundred pieces against the wall.

‘Would you like me to take you? I can compel us in.’ She shook her head promptly, sighing heavily.

‘Thank you baby but no, I think I’m just going to go home-‘

‘No. You are not going to be alone right now, please stay? Let your baby make you feel all better…’ Klaus didn’t wait for an answer before swinging her up into his arms and carrying her upstairs to his bed. ‘Damon is the one who fucked up. He could’ve spent the entire night staring at you in this dress. God, you’re beautiful!’ He flirted making Y/n blush heavily as he peeled the dress from her body followed by her bra and panties. ‘I lucked out that he’s such an idiot…’ Klaus smirked as he kissed his lips down her body, spreading her legs apart and lifting her thighs to his shoulders before burying his face into her pussy, his tongue fucking into her hole rapidly. He licked up her slit and had just started sucking on her clit when her hips rose up and jumped against his mouth.

‘Oh God! Such a sweet boy you are baby…oh fuck!’

‘Want you to use me.’ He mumbled as he leaned his head against her thigh. ‘Want my Mommy to use my body to feel good!’ He insisted.

‘You don’t need to do that baby, Mommy doesn’t want to ruin your safe space-‘

‘Please Mommy? Please? Use me like your little play thing!’ Klaus pleaded, Y/n sitting up and taking his face into her hands to look at him.

‘Are you sure that’s what you want, my love?’ He nodded quickly, pulling his shirt off over his head. ‘What’s your safeword?’

‘Red.’ He stated, reaching down to unbuckle his pants when his hands were grabbed and he was quickly turned over underneath her.

‘My boy is so sweet to me, letting his Mommy use his body however I want.’ She straddled his waist, running her nails up his chest and making him whimper. ‘Such a beautiful body too…’ she teased, moving to pull his pants and boxer briefs down his legs and toss them away, revealing his thick, painfully hard cock. ‘Such a pretty little cock, all for me, hmm?’ His cock definitely wasn’t “little” but it made him feel smaller every time she said it and so she did despite how long and thick his werewolf cock actually was.

‘Y-Yes Mommy…all yours.’

‘All mine? That’s good, it’s so pretty I don’t think I would want to share it with anyone.’ She smirked, wrapping her hand around his thick cock and caressing him softly earning a soft moan. ‘Pretty all over, aren’t you baby?’ Y/n asked, moving up his body and pressing his cock to her wet pussy, earning her an uncontrollable yelp.

‘Such a loud little boy, aren’t you? My god, so noisy…it’s a good thing you have such a pretty mouth too…Mommy wants that mouth to make her feel good, yes?’ He nodded frantically, his cock twitching as he was already desperate to cum. He loved it when his Mommy took control of him. ‘I want to ride this fucking tongue!’ She demanded as she straddled his mouth, settling her pussy right on his lips. He kissed her pussy several times before licking up her slit and suckling on her clit softly. ‘You can do better than that baby boy!’ She hissed, grinding her pussy down against his mouth and he moaned, sticking his tongue into her hole and tasting her sweetness. His Mommy knew that licking her cunt was his favorite thing to do. He reached up, grabbing onto her hips as he continued to shove his tongue into her, his nose grinding against her clit and prompting her moan. ‘Fuck yes baby! Right there! Oh don’t stop…fuck…fuckfuckfuck!’ She cried out, humping her hips against his mouth as she grabbed ahold of his hair and pulled him even closer. ‘Good boy.’ She praised, lifting herself up only to have him pull her back down to continue licking over her dripping hole. ‘Fucking greedy boy too, aren’t you?’

‘Mmhmm!’ He hummed, holding her waist another moment before she pried his fingers off and moved back down his body. He watched as she slid her pussy down his belly to his throbbing cock which she quickly straddled, his hard cock resting against her slit.

‘Look at this pretty little cock, so needy, aren’t you?’ Klaus nodded quickly, his cock twitching as she trailed her finger down the side of it and precum dribbled from his tip onto his belly. ‘God, you are a needy little boy, aren’t you? You’re just dripping all over yourself you’re so needy!’

‘Y-Yes Mommy…please? Please Mommy, I need you?’ He pleaded and he could see how much she loved it as she moved back and leaned down to lick up the little mess he had made on himself. ‘Oh fuck!’ He whined, unable to control his cock as it dribbled more cum.

‘Such a messy boy…do you want Mommy to suck on your little cock?’ She asked softly but he shook his head quickly, needing more than that right now. ‘No? Well, what do you want then?’

‘P-Please?’ He whined, desperate and needy, knowing how little it was going to take for him to finish and so did she.

‘Please what?’

‘Pussy! Mommy’s Pussy Please?!’ He cried, hips jumping unintentionally.

‘You want Mommy’s pussy? Is that it? You want to put your little cock in your Mommy’s pussy?’ He nodded frantically, completely desperate in a way that no one but his Mommy could make him feel.

Y/n lifted her hips and took hold of his cock, pushing down on him and just as she settled herself against him, his cock as deep in her cunt as he could get, his eyes rolled back in his head and he shot his stream of cum as deep into her body as he could. ‘Ah! Fuck M-Mommy-‘

‘Shh, there’s my good boy. I know, Mommy got you all worked up, didn’t she? It’s okay. Such a good boy, filling Mommy up so good…’ As soon as he finished cumming Y/n lifted her hips and dropped back down on him.

‘Ah!’

‘Such a good boy for Mommy, still nice and hard for me.’ She praised, Klaus reaching out and taking hold of her hips as she continued to ride him. ‘Oh Fuck! So good for me, so fucking good!’ Y/n kept riding his cock until she felt her orgasm take over her body, clamping down on his hard cock and he growled, clenching his teeth as he came once again, filling her cunt up even more with his cum.

Y/n dropped down against Klaus’ chest and he pulled the blanket up over the both of them, nuzzling into his Mommy’s neck where he settled for the rest of the night.

And just like that Klaus’ Mommy was all his once again. He didn’t care how many people he would have to compel for the rest of their lives together, he would do it every single time because she was all his and no one would ever take his Mommy away from him.

Klaus M. Masterlist

[brighttears]

Stranger Chapter 7

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description

Summary: At the end of the day, you show up nervous at Joel’s door, and he welcomes you with open arms, then holds you in them. Sleeping with you in his bed is beautiful, and it's innocent, until it’s not. Things between you shift, and he finds a new title for you—his lover. 

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings: About half of this is smut, size kink, a tiny bit of thigh riding, praise, a little rough, creampie, light christian themes here and there (fucking you is heavenly), pet names (honey, baby, sweet girl, darling)

A/n: the smut has commenced!!!! unavoidably more to come <3 sorry it took so long to post, i had a bunch already written when i started releasing this but no more is prewritten. i literally have like one day a week that i can actually just write and really have to squeeze it in otherwise, might start to get busier unfortunately :( but I don't want to let this thing die with a whimper and am starting on the next chapter now! much love to u all 🫶

series masterlist

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Sharing a table over grilled cheese and tomato soup, your discomfort seems to wane a bit, and soon enough the air is almost light—just three old friends kicking it again, and Joel begins to hope that Jackson lasts a lot longer than the time limit he had initially come up with. 

After the meal, you part ways, having your own responsibilities around Jackson, and Joel goes on a tour of the commune followed by a shopping spree conducted by his brother. In the late afternoon, he’s left to his own devices, and basks in a burning hot shower, fresh clothes, and doing what he can to fix that nail hole in his wall, before the three of you join back for dinner. Tonight is your shift on patrol, so the brothers share a short drink alone at the bar, opting to keep the conversation relatively easy, before Joel retires back at his house. Though he’s tired from the full, yet comparably uneventful day, Joel still finds himself restless in the big, empty house. 

By the time the stars have shown, he’s still wide awake in bed, when his ears perk at slow, crunching footsteps outside, and gets up to peer out of his window. Below, he spots you, looking weary as you trail your way up to your house. Despite your clear exhaustion, seeing you coming back unharmed from patrol pulls a relieved sigh out of him. 

He considers heading outside, checking in, seeing if you need anything… he can’t help but be worried, even if there isn't a trail of blood behind you. Maybe a bit lonely, too. The last time the two of you were in the same vicinity, you were basically tired at the hip, so it feels almost unnatural to not be now that you have the option. And, the feeling of having you curled against his side won’t let go of him. But, he can’t screw this up. He doesn’t want to smother you, make you feel like he’s trying to coddle you, like he thinks you can’t handle patrol when he knows you can, that you have been. So, he keeps his head, fingers twitching and tapping on the window frame as he watches you step up to your door and unlock it with a faint jangling of keys. 

As you cross the threshold and disappear into your house, he sighs, staring for only a moment longer before giving up, shuffling back to bed and flopping down onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. Still, he can’t help but keep himself awake, just in case…

Within about twenty minutes, he hears a knock at the door, and his heart rate spikes. It’s gotta be you. Anxiety starts to rise in his chest, and he sits up quickly, hurrying downstairs. Pulling the door open, he’s met with you, relief blooming in his chest, though still thorned with worry as his eyes instinctually search for any sign of injury, and immediately notice your tense demeanor. 

“Hey, Joel,” you greet him, breaths puff of white air in the biting air, shifting on your feet, and crossing your arms, eyes darting between him and the snow dusted wood at your feet. “Hey.” He replies, brow pinching as he regards your state. 

“Um,” you start with a nervous sigh, eyes now glued to your shoes. “I, um, I was just—I wanted to, to see if, um well, if—if—” Bashfully, you glance at him again, and he can see your lips struggle as you try to find your words, and his heart aches at it. A wave of concern, along with personal anxieties, washes through him, already starting to become overrun with a thousand potential reasons you could be acting like this, fears and doubts of all kinds, and he wants to push, ask what’s going on, tell you to stop being so nervous around him, but then Tommy’s words ring in his head: ‘be patient… wait for her to come to you…’ So, he waits, keeping his expression mild. 

“Um,” you try again, scratching your head, trying to force eye contact, “well it’s just that it felt, weird, with you here—I mean, no, I was just—well, patrol was—I just—I was wondering, i-if I could, um, if you just, maybe, I mean,” you let out a huff in clear frustration at your own floundering, before finally spitting it out. “I just wanted to see if I could, stay with you, tonight, I just…”

Joel’s heart leaps and flutters, shifting in the doorframe. 

“Yeah, of course.” He answers quickly, because, of course, because there’s nothing more he wants. 

Finally, you meet his gaze, letting out a heavy, relieved sigh. 

Though he wishes you would have just waltzed right in, not even having to question if he’d allow it, want it, his heart feels lighter at your exhale, and he gives you a small nod, stepping aside to open the door. “C’mon.” He mumbles, “Get outta the cold.”

You duck your head as you come inside, shoulders still slightly hunched in remaining nerves he’d like to reach out and skim off of you as you unzip your coat. Joel wants to just wrap you up in his arms, soothe you, keep you warm, melt that unease, like he’s supposed to. 

“You alright?” He asks automatically, eyes flicking over you. He can’t help but wonder about what’s left unspoken, you wanting to stay with him tonight, sleep next to him in his bed, be close to him in such a vulnerable way again.

“Mhm.” You reply, nodding as you shrug off your coat, and he watches as you turn to hang it up on the peg, right next to his. “I just um,” you begin to explain, sounding almost small again. “I guess… I’m just, used to sleeping in the same room as you, when you're around, you know? And I… you know, it just felt weird, and I guess I just… missed you…” 

“Yeah.” Joel nods, voice soft and quiet. “Yeah, I get it.” It’s touching, knowing you want him, want to be near him, with him, and because you missed him, too. You’re still connected. He’d been laying awake, because he knew you were going to knock on his door. Because you still don’t know how to be apart from each other. Because there’s still some magnet, you could never let go of each other, you still can’t. A house away is too far. 

You nod back, still visibly relieved, before bending to untie your boots. You look so exposed, small and precious, and he wants you tucked under his blankets, wants to watch you fall asleep, hear your breaths slow and even, see how your lashes rest over your cheeks again. Wants to see you relaxed like that again. He wants to fall asleep next to you, and not worry about it. Know that he’ll wake up and everything will be okay, you’ll be there, still tucked in, warm, and safe, and with him. 

“I—Did I wake you up?” You ask softly as you toe off your shoes and push them next to his. “No.” He shakes his head, “Couldn’t get any sleep yet.”

“Oh.” You nod, turning to him. “Good. I mean, not that you couldn’t sleep, just—”

Joel can’t help a soft chuckle, shifting forward a step to gently touch your arm. “It’s okay, Y/n.” He assures you in a gentle murmur. Glancing up at him, you nod, letting out a breath, and he watches you, eyes flicking to every subtle shift and twitch of your gaze. You’re still guarded, but he knows you want it off, so, after a silent beat, he offers a hand out to you, cocking his head towards the stairs with a quiet, “C’mon. Let’s go to bed.” As he turns and starts for them, he feels your hand slip loosely into his, and he holds onto your fingers to lead you behind him. 

It’s strange, a mix between deep recognition and something novel—your nervousness, being in pajamas, the clean and numbered blankets awaiting you; while this is just another added to thousands of nights he’s shared with you, every other has been not much more than a shuffle into a prayed for break from exhaustion, and this feels like some sort of event. 

Despite how sharp you’ve made yourself out to be, despite how sharp you believe you are these days, your hand has never felt this fragile in his. And last time he held it, it was connected to the arm you’d lost a bucket full of blood from. But, last time, your hand felt assured in his, you had gripped his back; now, it’s timorous. He pulls a slow breath into his lungs, urging himself to be softer with you now than he’s ever been, and to not think about the last time, not overdose on guilt, because this isn’t fucking about him. You’re nervous, you’re vulnerable, and you came to him for comfort and for warmth, and it’s late, you’re tired, and he's the one you’re looking to. So he's going to take care of you. He’s going to give you what you need, and it’s not his guilt, it’s not his sorry, you don’t want it, and the words mean nothing. You need kindness, and warmth, you need your rock. You need the comfort you’ve only ever found in him. He can do that. He is that. 

In his bedroom, Joel pulls back the covers on, murmuring gently, “Crawl in,” as he slips under them himself. As the bed shifts, the only sound the soft shuffle of blankets, Joel’s heart flutters again, perking with happiness, to have you here, with him, in the safety of night, where silences don’t fall and stretch but pool and settle, and there’s no rifle to be had ready in his hands, no dark woods to watch or pulls of exhaustion to will himself away from, and there’s no crucial conversation to be had, nothing to think to say—he can just lay here, with you curled up next to him, and look at you, looking at him, with your nose tucked under the blankets.

“Feel better now?” He whispers, gentle and affectionate. You nod. The silence stays for a moment, before you whisper, “Do you remember that night, Ohio, in the winter?” 

He hums. “Yeah. Can’t forget it.” 

2015, the first coldsnap of the year—ruthless, the kind of air that hurts, wind so hard in your face it’s hard to breath, and the snowflakes were fat and just wouldn’t stop fucking falling. It was the dead of night when you finally stumbled on the farm, the only structure within miles; you’d had to just keep walking until you found something, you’d die if you didn’t, but even under the layers of hay that you’d buried yourselves in, exposure was a looming threat in the derelict barn. 

You were shaking like a leaf. He’d never held you before, but that night, he did, because he was so scared. And it was that night that started to realize how much you were starting to mean to him, how precious you were, how special his heart had come to hold you. He needed you to live. He needed you to be okay. There wasn’t another option.

“I don’t know how we survived that night.” You whisper. “It was so cold.”

“I know.” He whispers back. He remembers how you shook, how his muscles strained against the cold shuddering his own bones as he pulled you closer. He remembers how the fear kept him up all night. “I thought you were gonna freeze to death.” 

“Me too. Or that I’d have to crack your arms off from around me in the morning.”

Your quiet words make his heart ache, imagining the horror of waking up to the embrace of a corpse. He blinks, sighing to brush the thoughts away, because you’re here now. “Well… we both survived. We always do.” He murmurs, and you nod. 

Though tonight, it’s warm in this house, and you’re safe in Jackson, you look just as vulnerable, as raw now as you did then, and he feels a familiar tug to pull you closer. 

He shifts, tugged further, needing to feel your breathing again, feel your skin be warm, and extends his arm, gently placing it over your waist. You shift into him, nestling in against his chest, and he lets out a long sigh as he gathers you into his arms. It feels natural, the reciprocated maneuver to fit against each other, to feel you close, to keep you close. A wave of deep comfort washes over him followed by a bloom of contentment as you wrap your arms around him. 

For a moment, it’s just the two of you, nothing else. Your warmth, the feel of your form under his fingers, brushing them idly up and down your spine with the other cradling your waist, the tickle of your hair on his chin, quiet breath skimming over the skin of his neck. The air is your smell. Filled with your presence, he closes his eyes. 

After a moment, you pull him in a little closer, and he wraps his arms further around you, pulling you in until there's barely a bit of space between you at all, and in that moment, he feels you relax, warm and solidly pressed, a soft sigh leaving your lips. 

Safe. Soothed. Protected. 

“You warm?” He whispers after a moment. 

“Yeah.” You mumble back, and he can feel the smile pulling your cheek against his chest. “Are you?”

He hums, mumbling into your hair, “I dunno, I think I could use a blanket.”

Your chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Want me to go get you one?”

He huffs, smiling wide and whispering back, “No, I think you’ll do.” You chuckle again, and warmth spreads through every part of him. “Stay.” He whispers, muffled in your hair, “stay right here.”

“Okay.” You whisper back. 

Okay. That quiet sound. 

You sound happy. 

Okay.

The sound of the smile in that word waltzes through his brain, slow, cast in faint moonlight, lulling his breaths to slow, the gentle rhythm of your breaths, chest gently expanding and relaxing under his arms relaxing his weight, the faint beat of your heart against his chest like a soundless lullaby, easing him into a dreamless sleep. 

He doesn't wake, doesn’t stir once, and in the morning, when the light streaming in from the windows makes its way past his eyelids, he finds that you haven’t moved at all, all night. Your arm is still draped over his side, the other still fitted between your chests, hand curled around the curve of his neck to rest in the hair on the nape of it. You’re the perfect mold against his body, under his arms, his hands. 

Warm. Safe. Protected. Sound in your sleep. Everything is okay. 

It’s perfect. Every bit of it.

You asked for this, requested to sleep in his bed with him, wanted for his closeness and went to him, to feel him in the night. You remembered that first time he held you, when you needed it most. He hadn’t thought about it that way—that maybe you needed him last night. And he was there. 

And he was there. 

As the thought hits him, he feels his heart flutter and skip, and he lets out an inadvertent, deep sigh. At that slight movement, he notices your eyes shift under the lids before they flutter, stirring from sleep. Watching the moment, Joel tries desperately to commit it to memory, the way you look tucked so tightly in his arms, etch the feeling of your unconscious clinging into his mind, the way your face is still so relaxed, so utterly at peace in his embrace. And in that moment, he feels himself fall just a little bit harder for you. 

Your eyes crack open, just barely, and he watches you register the sight of him, a lazy hand brushing up his back. It’s a sight for sore eyes, you in the morning. The sun filtering through the curtains brings out the color of your eyes, strings of hair highlighted in its light. He could count your eyelashes this close. He soaks it up, with your fingers brushing over the curve of his spine, the faint shuffle of blankets the only sound in the room. It’s so peaceful, so simple, so domestic. A small, gentle smile brings itself to his lips, and he watches you watch it, eyes still sleepy, only half open, and then you bring your hand out from between your chests to trace a lazy finger over the corner of it. He melts, physically feels his insides turn to mush, smile pulling further. 

This is the first glimpse he’s gotten to that gentle side of you you used to wear on your sleeve around him. It feels like pulling the curtain back, like there’s not a wall left between you, and it's so soft, and god he loves you, god, he adores you, and god does he want to kiss the fingertips dancing right in the corner of his lips, god does he want to kiss you, after all this time, all the times, he wants to know, wants to know how it would feel.

For a moment, your eyes trail up to his, before they return to his lips, tapping them lightly, almost absently. 

He’s a mess. You were always so soft when you were sleepy, and it always made him weak. Right now, he’s completely lost in it, spellbound, and the whispered words slip right now. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

Your eyes move to his again, and he can almost see them register, and as they do, your fingers leave his lips to instead slip over his jaw, but before he can think about it, your eyes are fluttering shut and your leaning in, and then he can’t breathe, because you kiss him. 

He lets out a nearly stuttered sigh, body reacting immediately, hand splaying over your back, leaning his lips back against yours as his brain explodes into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. It’s soft, and gentle, he can feel the slight chap of your lips, and he’s never had that feeling he’s heard of in movies and from luckier friends back in the day, about how it just feels right, how it’s natural, effortless, like a gentle current, but at the same time, he’s lightheaded and the swarm is only growing bigger. He could drown in it, the sensation of you so close, the sound of the breathes leaving your nose and a quiet smack as your lips dance, and he can’t stand the thought of it ending, not yet, not yet, so he slowly, tenderly, tilts his head to press a little closer, sliding his hand to cradle your jaw, trading the other to hold your back, keeping you close. Just a little while longer, and a little while longer, to soak up the gentle embrace, he can’t stand to part, but then he gets a real taste of your spit, and he knows he needs to pull back, just for a moment, because he feels a switch flip in his brain at it. 

He parts only a couple inches, letting out a quiet breath as his eyes flutter open again.

Very quietly, you whisper, “Was that okay?” You sound so small, and there's another beating of velveteen wings, and he replies, low and gentle, sweeping his thumb over your cheek, “Yeah, honey. You can kiss me whenever you want, darlin’. I’m not gonna complain.” 

He’s used terms like that very sparingly—it always felt wrong, either condescending or just too far over the made up line, too close for comfort, but he feels out of his wits in a way, floundering under these new circumstances. He doesn't know where the ground is, but apparently neither do you, and after only a beat, you kiss him again, and he feels his brow pinch, and he wants it and he has it, and it’s so warm, and when he pulls you in you shift right into his arms, as if you’d done this a thousand and one times, and he wants it again and again and again. He drinks it in, the warmth, the softness, the feeling of your torso in his hands. He’s selfish, he’s greedy, he’s needy. With each small break before going right back in for another, he thinks, wait, because he wasn’t done, he needs more, more to hold onto, as if every slight repositioning of lips is a chance for you to slip away into dream world and he’ll wake up and see you again, and wonder all over again what your lips feel like. 

As the moment goes on, his heart only beats faster, need slowly overcoming him, his hands moving over more of the expanse of you, your sides, your neck, your jaw, with your touch on his face, in his hair, his shoulders, arms, back, and he wants it, wants to be enveloped in it, he wants you to touch him and kiss him until he can’t think, until he’s incapacitated and all he can sense is you, like this, in this moment, in the morning, where nothing else exists. Not his wrongs, not the pain, not time, not memories, just the feeling of you, the taste of you, the sound of you as a soft breath leaves your lips—a small, quiet moan. 

The sound surges him, arm automatically snaking around your waist, his fingers weaving into your hair, holding the world in his hands with your legs tangling themselves with his, hooking your ankle around his calf to pull his thigh between yours—god you’re somehow still being so soft and gentle and it’s starting to feel like his brain is melting, all he is is nerves and the feeling of you. And then you squeeze him, kissing him a little harder, a little messier, and there’s something so vulnerable about it, so needy but loving. God he wants you. He wants you he wants you he wants you. He wants you to have him, just let you have him, do what you please, he wants to please you, feeling the affection and desire wash over him like being pulled under the tide as his hands slide over your body, feeling the way your ribs meet your waist, your jaw to your neck, your shoulder blades, learning these things he’s never quite gotten the chance to before. The taste of your spit. The taste of your skin as he presses his lips along your jaw, slow, tender, making his way down to your neck, and then there’s that sound again, a little more breathless, and he pulls in your scent through his nose, shifting until he’s almost on top of you. 

He wants you to know how much he wants you, how his pulse quickens, how his body heats up, how much he loves you, needs you, wants to show you, show you just what you mean to him. He kisses your skin softly, lips lingering as they press over the muscles of your throat. Another soft sound, just a breath of a moan, falls out of you again, and he squeezes his eyes shut. Every press, every movement, he wants you to feel the affection, the care he puts into it, like he could have you absorb all these things he doesn’t have the words for. With his lips on the underside of your jawline, you shift closer, a silent request, the way you pull and push, and he needs to give you the closeness you’re asking for, show you he’ll give you anything—he wants to, he’ll give himself to you willingly. He loves you desperately, wants you to take him, hold his heart in your hands, ride his cock like it’s a fucking toy until you cum, and then cum again, until he’s got nothing left, and then take more. It’s all for you. 

He lets his lips part, pressing his tongue right between your ear and the corner of your jaw, just close enough to whisper something, but the words escape him as you let out a near whimper, and he knows the message is received as you move against him, pulling his leg until his thigh is right in between yours, and he feels his jaw go slack for a moment until his teeth reconnect with your skin, and, “Ah,” God. Without a second thought, he slides his thigh against you, fitting it where you need the friction, and you squeeze, and whisper, “Joel,” and his eyes nearly roll back in his head. 

He wants to make you cum, to make you tremble, whimper and whine and moan until your throat’s fucking raw, and he’ll lick it like a wound as he fucks you or fingers you or just uses his fucking leg, whatever you want. Whatever you need, whatever you want. He wants you to know how good this is, feel what you’re doing to him, like honey in his veins, swelling his cock, so he moves his hips, the bulge pressing against your stomach, and your breath hitches, and the moan is involuntary, and the rest of the world is lost to him. He hardens more just at that, from a chub to something that tents his sweatpants in about four seconds. Your warm hands slide down his sides, slipping under the hem of his shirt and starting to push it up, touch running over his skin, warm and buzzing. He’s on fire.  He wants you all over him. He wants your touch. Needs it. 

Hurriedly, he takes his hands off of you just long enough to pull his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere, and in the time it takes for the fabric to pass over his eyes your shirt is being thrown after it, and his jaw nearly drops. 

He can’t help the way his hands press, sliding over your bare skin, he can’t help being so needy, he needs you more every second, feeling the curve of your breast, your nipple hard under his palm, the flesh of your waist under his fingers. Your arms nearly fling around him to pull him back in, meeting in a messy, heated kiss.

Every sense is lit in flames, and he slips his tongue against your lips, and you part them for him and fuck it’s so hot, feeling your tongue press back against his, your leg over his waist pulling him closer and his cock is straining as it presses against you and you moan in unison and fuck he needs to get you naked. 

It’s nice to know you’re on the same page, by the way your hands fall down to the buttons of your jeans just as the thought enters his head. He curses under his breath, keeping one arm braced beside your head, struggling with his haste to pull his sweatpants and boxers down. His legs wrestle under the sheets to use his feet to strip them off, and it’s a quick shuffle to ditch the layers before hot skin meets hot skin again, and precum is already beading at his tip by the time his length is pressed at the seam of your stomach. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper in a breath, right before smashing your mouth against his, and he moans, low and muffled, every part of him practically singing like a discorded chorus. He loves you. Adores you. Wants you. To love you like this. To dote on you. Worship you To fuck you, feel your sweet slick around his cock, feel your squeeze, make you whimper and moan and cum until you see stars. 

And fuck, you move for it first, reaching down to take him in your hand and slip him up and down your cunt until he’s right where he wants to be, but he still doesn’t move, waits for you to bring him inside, relishing in the feeling of your hand around him, the hand he knows so well on a part of him you’ve never touched before. Both of your mouths are dropped open at this point, eyes half lidded, but he takes care to watch your face as his tip finds its way between your folds, taking in the expression, a rough moan falling from his lips because you’re already so wet. 

“So wet.” He murmurs, faces so close it’s as if you’re trading breaths. “You want it, baby?” He asks, needing to hear you say it, to know that you do, and to hear how your voice comes out when you have his cock in you. “Yeah,” you reply, like an exhale as you move him deeper inside, and he exhales a moan in response, gripping the sheets in a vice, other hand a little more gentle on your waist. Slowly, so fucking slowly, he presses into you, inch by inch, feeling himself twitch with every one, your warmth pulling him in. As he bottoms out, he lets out a rough moan, and kisses you again, tongue licking into your mouth. Your touch is hard and tight as it travels over his sides, up his back, grasping at him, and he can’t help but bite your lip, more turned on than he was when he was a fucking virgin because god damn it it’s been a fucking while, and he loves you and has been pushing down how fucking horny you can get him for fucking years now, and here you are, naked, underneath him, wrapping your legs around him and moaning into his mouth. 

He tenses, crooning with the urge to fuck you like his body is disposed to, deep and hard like a fucking animal, because god damn it has been a while and you’ve gotten him wound up like a fucking toy box, but no, that’s not how he wants this to go. No. Gentle. Slow. Loving. Until you’re begging for it. 

The kiss is loud and messy and wet, one rolling into the next, but he moves his hips slowly, filling you up, relieving the pressure, then doing it again, keeping an easy pace. He’s gotta find what you like. What tempo. What pressure. Where all your sweet spots are. If you like it when he kneads your tits, pinches your nipple, presses his hand where he can feel himself through your stomach. But his hands won’t touch your throat. Won’t grab your hair. He won’t bruise you. Not even with his mouth on your neck. He can’t help but lick it though, wanting you to know just how fucking bad he wants you, long and flat, almost panting against the wet line, feeling like a fucking animal but still enough of himself to keep it fucking slow. Angels sing in his ears in your moans, breathy and soft, and yes, you can leave all the marks you want on him, drag your nails, squeeze him until he’s bruised if you’re so inclined. All he wants is you. Whatever you want to do, whatever you do. 

He kisses the corner of your mouth, your chin, your jaw, his knees planted in the mattress so that he can slide his hands along your sides, hold your body in his hands, know what the weight of every bit of his desire feels like, know what the clouds in heaven feel like under his fingers. He wants to know what the waters up there feel like up there, so he reaches a hand down, digits swirling your clit, and they’re warm and drooling, and the sound of the pearly gates opening are in the moan that almost trills from your throat. His mouth falls down to your skin again, tasting what the gods eat with his lips on your collarbone. Heaven is filling you up, thumb on his base, feeling every inch sliding in and out with his index and middle playing with you, testing out spots and rhythms to make you sing. 

He wants to make you feel good, so fucking good, with his fingers and his mouth and his dick. Wants you to feel loved by him, taken care of by him. Desired and needed, but cherished. Gentle, until you ask for more, if you want it. He can fuck you slow, too, grip the reins to keep himself under control. Still, the sounds that come out of him are desperate hums that are almost groans as your nails scrape down his back, leaving the muscles underneath them humming in their wake. With his lips mouthing along your shoulder, he hears your head hit the pillow, he hears the whimper. 

Electrified, he husks, hot against your skin, “That feel good?” 

“Yes.” He hums, deep and low, pressing soft kisses up the side of your neck until they reach your ear, “You like how I fill you up?” Though he keeps it measured, he presses a little deeper, almost just to show you what he can do, and it pushes another soft moan out of you. “Yes.” 

Perfect, so fucking perfect for him, like a sheath, so slick and easy to fit into. “You like how this dick feels?” Tying your ankles around his back, urging him in deep again, you moan, “Yes,” 

“Fuck,” He swears under his breath, sliding his palm back up your side, drinking up the way every touch makes your breath change. He stops at your chest, slowly enclosing your breast with his hand with his fingers still twirling your sensitive bud as he whispers, “You want me to fuck you?” The word leaves you in a whimper, “Please.”

“Fuck, Y/n.” Joel moans, hips pressing you into the mattress, grip back around your waist, fingers denting your flesh as he holds you to take him to the hilt, reveling in your moaned sigh. “Tell me how you want it,” It’s a shameless plea in your ear as he leans over you; he wants you to know he’s for you, all of him, it’s for you, his heart, his soul, his cock, his hands, his lips; his body, mind, and soul, just the way god intended.

“Harder.” You whimper. 

“Harder?” He repeats lowly, forehead against your temple to keep his whisper steadily in your ear, feeling his gut burn. 

“Yes.”

His hips twitch in a quick jolt before he can start his own rhythm, barely in control of himself when he gets the chance to fuck you how he wants, like its the last thing he’ll ever do on this earth, thwaps of meeting hips filling hitting the walls, each tight thrust pushing a breath out of you like he’s giving you fucking CPR, “You want it like this, baby?”

“Yes, God, ah,” your hands grip his biceps, flexed like every other muscle in his body, every bit of testosterone pumping out in the sweat starting to slick his skin. “That feel good, honey?” He thrust the answer out of you, a breathless, “Yes,” and he feels like a god now. To be able to get these sounds out of you, to get you all breathless and flushed with your legs spread open for him. “You like how my cock feels?” His voice is a deep, low hum, honeyed and hot, met with a lighter, breathless, “Yes, fuck me, fuck,” 

That phrase hits a nerve, and he moans like he’s being beaten, but the blood tastes so sweet in his mouth. 

The bed is starting to shake a little at the rhythm of his hips, knees dug into the bed, fingers swirling your clit in the way that has you trilling like a hungry cat with his other hand holding your waist to keep you in place as he stays just a step away from pounding the shit out of you. He’s never been the type to pride himself on his length or girth—he’s not in college anymore—but he’s hitting your cervix, loading himself into you, and its just as tight as if it was his hand, but it’s Y/n’s cunt that he’s fucking right now, and the cum is stringing his cock, making a mess where your hips meet when he looks down and does nothing less than gawk, the sight making a moan crawl out of his throat and fuck he feels that hot coil, and flings his hand out to grip the headboard, because not fucking yet god damn it, because you’re begging, voice almost shrill, “Please, don’t stop, just like that, fuck right there, right there,” and he shuts his eyes, caught between memorizing the moment and trying to keep himself from cumming first because he wants to feel you, and pump you through it, and yes he’ll do whatever you want but god how he would love to watch you whimper and squirm as you take him, he wants to have you until you’re spent, he wants to make you cum again and again and again, until the sheet is soaked through and you’ll both just have to sleep the rest of the day again, stay in this bed together, and he’ll fall alseep and wake up again to the smell of you, the taste of you. 

“Fuck,” he pants, willing himself to look down at you again, and he can tell before he even asks, almost cooing, “you close, darlin’? Gonna cum soon?”

You nod, face twisted up in sweet pleasure, breaths becoming more stuttered with the force of his hips, “Yeah.” Your hands, before loosely on his hips, slipping in and out of grip as he pressed them down again and again, are now nearly clawing, nails scraping against the muscled bone, mewling, “Yeah,” 

With a harsh moan, Joel brings his face right down over yours, panting against your lips, “Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock? That’s how good it is, baby?”

“Yes, fuck,”

“You like how I fill you up to the fuckin’ brim?” He murmurs, “You like feelin’ me in your guts? You have no idea how good it feels, baby. Love feelin’ how your pussy squeezes my cock.” Nearing pussy drunk, he starts to ramble, almost smothered under the sound of the creaking bed and skin slapping skin and the moans that march from your throat, “Takin’ me so fuckin’ well, Jesus Christ, Y/n, you’re sending me to heaven, baby. You sound like the angel’s fuckin’ singin’, Y/n. Make me feel so good. I wanna make you cum, baby. Wanna feel you fuckin’ cum for me. Cum on my cock, cum for me, honey.” 

“Oh, fuck, fuck me like that, yes,”

“So fucking pretty like this, baby,” his voice stays a soft murmur, more breathless by the second, “you got no idea. So fucking beatiful. Yes, baby, yes, I know, I know you’re so fucking close, cum on it, baby, lemme fuck you through it.”

“Oh fuck,” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he ruts, thumb twirling around your clit as your thighs clench around his waist, mouth in a perfect O, pouring out moan after shaking moan, brows titled up, lashes fluttering, “keep cumming for me, baby, fuck, fuuuck,” he pants, moaning almost just the same, barely an inch making it out before he plunges back in, fucking you into the bed, and the way you’re hanging onto his hips almost ensures it, “god you’re takin’ me so good, so good, baby,” both hands grasp the headboard now, hanging on by a thread as your pussy grips and quivers around him, so tight in its convulsions he could swear he can feel every ridge of his cock slipping in and out. 

“Oh, God, Joel, fuck,” you’re almost incomprehensible, with the way your body is being jolted into the bed and the way every word is jumbled with a moan, “don’t stop, don’t stop, please,”

“So god damn good, baby, yes, keep cumming for me, feels like fuckin’ heaven, Y/n. Gonna make me cum, fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna fill you up with my cum, sweet girl. You want that, baby? Wanna take my cum?” He coos, moaning, dumb on it, “I wanna fuck my cum into you. You gonna take it? Gonna let me? Show you how much I fuckin’ love you? How you fuckin’ get me?”

Sounds loudening, quickening, you brace your hands on the headboard, tits on display as they jump under his force, stomach muscles clenching and tremoring, “Fuck, yes, yes,”

Joel falls back over you, snaking his arms under your back, cradling your waist as he pumps deep inside you, fucking like an animal. “Yes, yes, yes,” he calls, forehead in the pillow, “keep cumming for me, baby, that’s it, keep goin’ for me, feels so fucking—” his words drop off in a deep, desperate moan, movements fast and harsh, stuffing you up, wet squelching in a mix of cum. “Oh, fuck, I love you,” he lilts, seeing white as he pumps his cum into you, hips jolting hard, holding you tight against him with his arms encircling your waist. Your nails are in his back, heels at the base of his spine, locking him in, taking it, trilling, “Yes, yes, yes,”

Joel’s moans are harsh breaths breaking out from his throat, eyes screwed shut as the primal sensation washes through him, a deep seated desire to profess his need, his love, his devotion as his hips stutter, fucking his seed as deep as he can into you. The aftershocks feel like the moment you see that white tunnel, and he’s reduced into a state of stupid pleasure, lazy sounds falling from his lips as you milk his cock, each ridden out twitch causing his hips to swing again, until he finally stills. 

Joel stays like that, locked deep inside of you, panting against your neck. You’re both sweating, and his animal brain brings his tongue to your skin, lapping up the salty taste. One last breathy moan falls from your lips, and he sighs, long and shaky. 

Finally, he floats back down to earth, sighing, “Shit.” You hum in response, a breathy, almost sleepy sound, and he slowly releases you from his near primitively possessive embrace, your body slumping back down on the bed. Taking in the sight below him, he supports himself over you with a hand planted on the bed, slipping out of you, leaking over the sheets. Your skin is glistening, chest rising and falling gloriously with your breaths. 

He’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life, beauty that stuns him, stupefies him, locks time, eyes traveling over every inch of your skin. Your thighs still rest on either side of his waist, the curly mess between your legs drooling and beaded in cum, a trail of his oozing out to drip onto the white sheets. A strip of sunlight casts a line over your chest, like a blessed spotlight to highlight the curve of your waist, the way your breasts lay, the bend of your neck from your collar. Your face is still flushed, lips parted, eyes half lidded, but he can see something in them, something else. 

This changes things. 

He feels tethered to you now, tied, his beautiful girl, his woman. His right hand, his best friend—his lover. 

The term sounds right. You're the one he loves, in every way he can, now, like this. Giving you pleasure like that, seeing you, hearing you, raw, making your nerves scream in rapture. From him. Another thing he can give to you. 

His lover. 

[ozzo-the-wozzo]

A VERY long theory post on how Miraculous might handle the possibility of Marinette losing their memories, based on… 90s Sailor Moon!

So I am a HUGE fan of 90s Sailor Moon, and it’s pretty well known that the show serves as a huge inspiration for Miraculous alongside other shows! Anyway, they have an amnesia arc at the start of the 2nd story arc of that show, and seeing the Marinette amnesia crumb planted in the latest ml episode, as well as the fact we’re in the 2nd story arc of ml, I have a sneaking suspicion that sailor moon’s amnesia arc can be drawn from for speculation on anything they might do with Marinette!

BIG spoilers for Sailor Moon below, and without further ado, here we go:

SO, let’s start with a summary of everything that happens in 1st arc of Sailor Moon that provides necessary context of the amnesia arc. You can skip past this section to the parts in pink that have the actual theory if you want, but this context helps make things less confusing:

1) Usagi gets assigned to be a sailor guardian by this cat called Luna (You can see her as a mix of Tikki and Master Fu, but she mostly serves the same role as Tikki in the show), and throughout the season other girls get assigned to be sailor guardians and they become part of this big ass friend group.

2) Meanwhile, Usagi and her love interest, Mamoru, hate each other in their civilian forms throughout the season, but as heroes she had a big crush on him as his persona ‘Tuxedo Mask’, who would come and save her if she was having trouble in a fight. In other words, lowkey og love square but if they were enemies as civilians:

3) Anyway, this all comes together at the end of the first arc where Usagi and Momoru have a reveal (quicker than miraculous, I know) and in turn find out they were the moon princess and earth prince in a past life. After this reveal, Mamoru gets mind controlled by the villain and turns evil, and when everyone going on a mission to save him and defeat the big villain, it ends with EVERYONE EXCEPT USAGI DYING. She has to use a power to defeat the villain that causes her to die as well, but not before she MAKES A WISH FOR HER AND HER FRIENDS TO HAVE A NORMAL LIFE THAT REWRITES THE UNIVERSE, causing the arc to end with EVERYONE’S MEMORIES WIPED, INCLUDING USAGI.

Already, I’m sure you can see the similarities that are arising, but onto the 2nd arc + how I think this will tie together:

During the 2nd arc, we start with basically a refresh of the show with Usagi having her memories wiped as per the wish, but due to evil arising once more, LUNA (who, again, I compared to tikki) has to restore her memories to have her fight evil again. Usagi then wants to restore the others memories desperately so that she won’t be alone, but doesn’t want them to give up their normal lives and be put in harms way. Also, she tries to get Mamoru to fall in love with her again, but since he lost his memories, he doesn’t like her like he did in season one:

So what do I think will happen? I don’t necessarily think EVERYONE’s memories will be wiped like in sailor moon, nor will a wish to rewrite the universe be involved, at least not YET. BUT, I do think that the reveal will happen, Marinette will lose her memories after a fight (possibly in a fight involving evil Adrien like in the Sailor Moon), and then Alya, Adrien, and Tikki will be hesitant to restore her memories when all is said and done because she has finally become a NORMAL GIRL, with a NORMAL LIFE, and they don’t want to take that from her.

THE PHRASING OF THE INTRO BEING SOOO SIMILAR TO USAGI’S WISH IN SAILOR MOON IS CRAZY, and idk it feels like this could be such a cool idea, especially if by this point the public has turned on the old ladybug for lying and they want to try and spare Marinette from that! IT ALSO PARALLELS MARINETTE SHIELDING ADRIEN FOR HIS PROTECTION, WITH HER NOW ON THE RECEIVING END (it’s worth noting Mamoru being left in the dark is a big thing sailor moon season one as well, no so much an insecurity of his but bro doesn’t know anythingggg compared to Usagi for awhile).

THIS WOULD ALSO PROLONG REVEAL SHENANIGANS LIKE IT DID IN SAILOR MOON !! Again, Usagi had to try and make Mamoru fall in love with her again without telling him anything, and this becomes the man focus of the first arc of the season!!! (Mamoru also has a part of him that gets separated from his physical form and becomes an alternate version of tuxedo mask to protect her despite his memory loss, but I don’t think they’ll rope that in lol.)

Guys I know this is a little out there and INSANE but I am SO convinced of this at least being mirrored a LITTLE bit in the show, especially since, as you can see, a LOT was pulled from this show already for miraculous. Here’s to the crazy amnesia arc we might get that might break our hearts… I’m sat! (also watch sailor moon bc clearly if you’re a miraculous fan you’ll LOVE it).