#sorry to you all but i love complaining so much
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thoughtfulfiction · 1 day ago
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While We’re Young
Author’s note: Anon requested, Hope you all enjoy!
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“Wait,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence in the car. You twisted one of your hoodie strings around your finger, tightening your grip on it and staring at Justin as if the realization had just crashed into you. “What if they don’t like me?”
Justin glanced over, his brows furrowing before his expression softened. His hand found its place on your thigh, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern through the fabric of your leggings. You were convinced that his soothing touch could change lives. “They’re going to love you,” he said simply, as though it wasn’t even a question. “My mom’s already planning to interrogate you about your favorite foods so she can cook for you. That’s her love language.”
You wanted to believe him, but your mind was already racing. “I mean, what if they think I’m not good enough for you? Or—oh god—what if I say something stupid and embarrass myself? Bad first impressions are impossible to recover from, and if this doesn't go the way we hope…” You trailed off, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.
At the next stoplight, Justin leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “First of all, you couldn’t embarrass yourself even if you tried. And second, I’ve seen you charm complete strangers. My family doesn’t stand a chance.”
Despite his confidence, your nerves didn’t fully settle. “Thanks, babe,” you murmured, managing a small smile. “But what am I supposed to do with the next thirteen hours? That’s so much time for me to go through worse case scenarios.”
“And to make me listen to your Sad Girl playlist,” Justin switched gears to remind you, his lips twitching into a grin.
“Oh, absolutely.” You laughed, connecting your phone to his car’s Bluetooth, taking a break from your negative self-talk. The opening chords of your favorite melancholic ballad filled the car as you leaned back in your seat.
Justin groaned dramatically but didn’t complain. Instead, he reached over to squeeze your hand, the warmth of his skin a quiet and comforting reassurance that you’d carry with you all the way to Eugene.
The fact that he was bringing you was a big deal already but to know that he’d only really done this a couple times made you feel special. Even if he didn’t really say it, he was falling for you just as much as you were falling for him.
Justin pulled you out of your thoughts when he asked, “are you hungry at all? Because I’m thinking about stopping somewhere. I’m starving.”
“Oh yeah, lunch sounds good. I think I saw a Wingstop sign towards this next exit but I can look it up.”
You opted to sit in the car and eat, giving him a long winded breakdown of what you wanted to do and see in Eugene.
“I want the works. Walk me down memory lane. And definitely take me to Nike. It honestly feels illegal not to go to a Nike store where it all started. I’m sure you’re looking to add to your endless collection anyway.” You note with a laugh. If Nike made suits, he'd definitely be first in line.
He gave you a pointed look. “It was an endless collection until I met and started dating a thief. Do you know how many of my sweatshirts I found in your closet this morning while helping you pack? I was looking for the purple one for weeks.”
You laughed so hard you nearly choked on your fries, swapping spots with him after lunch so he could take a break from driving. “Well I’m sorry! It’s not my fault your clothes are so big and they smell like you. Anytime you’re gone I just throw one on and it’s like you’re always with me.”
“Nice save…Catwoman.”
You scoff. “I prefer Robin Hood, actually. Take from the rich and give to the poor. You’re rich, so I take from you and...give to me. The poor.”
“That would work better if I didn’t get most of that stuff for free, but that is a pretty solid comparison.”
After about 8 hours of you being on aux, you decided to cut him so slack and let him take over on music as you continued to drive, mouthing the lyrics of the latest song that was playing from his phone, quickly getting lost in the rhythm.
He glanced over at you, chuckling softly, nodding his head along to the beat. “I didn’t know you were an 80s rock fan.”
“I didn’t either but you played this a few weeks ago while we were making dinner and I’ve been listening to it ever since. Hate to admit it but this is kind of a banger." You smirked, tilting your head toward him. "You know…I won’t tell anyone if you sing.”
Justin immediately starts shaking his head. “No shot. You’re not doing this to me.”
You turned up the music, singing loudly and deliberately off-key as he sighed deeply, his head dropping back against the headrest. But to your surprise, he joined in during the chorus. Both of you were screaming the lyrics to “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard, the car practically vibrating with your energy.
“What happens on the road trip stays on the road trip,” he said, holding out his pinky.
“Deal,” you laughed, locking your pinky with his before refocusing on the road.
A few hours later, Justin motioned for you to take the next exit. “Let’s hop out right here. I want to show you something,” he said cryptically.
The stop turned out to be a scenic lookout, the perfect place to watch the sunset with Mt. Shasta looming majestically in the distance. Justin laced his fingers with yours as the two of you walked toward the edge, stretching your legs after hours in the car.
“This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen,” you whispered, mesmerized by the golden and pink hues painting the sky.
Justin turned to you with a warm smile, his eyes full of something that made your stomach flutter. “Yeah… me too.”
You smacked his arm, keeping your gaze on the horizon. “Justin, focus. You’re not even looking at the scenery right now.”
“Sorry, I just got really distracted by the view in front of me. It’s kind of become my favorite.” He stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. His beard—something that came and went whenever he felt like it—tickled your temple, making you smile.
Turning around in his arms, you finally look up at him, the sight still stealing your breath even after all this time. His green eyes were softer in the glow of the setting sun, flickering between your eyes and lips as if he couldn’t decide where to focus.
“You’re my favorite view too,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Wouldn’t mind waking up to you for a while...the rest of my life even.”
The words hung in the air, fragile yet heavy with meaning. His brows lifted slightly, and for a moment, you worried you’d said too much. You hadn't even meant to say that last part out loud and you almost backtracked. But then, his lips curled into a small, hesitant smile, like he was processing the weight of your words.
“Really?” he asked, his voice low and steady. His hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “You—you see us doing this? Getting married, spending our lives together?”
The vulnerability in his tone made your heart ache in the best way. “Yeah, I do. Which is funny because I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with.”
Justin didn’t respond immediately, but his actions spoke louder than any words ever could. His hands slid to frame your face fully, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as if memorizing every detail. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to—but you didn’t.
When his lips finally met yours, it was soft and deliberate, like he was pouring everything he felt but couldn’t say into that one kiss. It wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was the kind of kiss that made the world fade away until it was just the two of you.
His hand gently cradled your head, holding you in place as if he was afraid you might slip away. You gripped the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, your heart racing as the kiss deepened. There was something so raw, so unspoken in the way his lips moved against yours—it wasn’t just passion; it was promise. Everything you saw, this bright beautiful future together? He saw it too.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting together. He let out a shaky laugh, his hands still cradling your face. “I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with either,” he admitted, his voice hoarse but filled with a quiet certainty. “Until now.”
The kiss lingered for just a moment longer, both of you savoring the connection, the sound of your heartbeat matching the rhythm of your breath. When Justin finally pulled back, there was a brief moment of silence, a quiet understanding between you. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, giving you a small smile before pulling away completely to open the door of the car.
“I think we’ve stalled long enough,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual but still carrying that calm confidence you admired. “Let’s get this over with.”
You both shared a laugh, though it felt a bit nervous on your part as the reality of the day hit. You had no idea what to expect, but you knew this was a big moment for Justin—and for you.
Justin took the keys from your hand, giving you one last reassuring squeeze before getting in the driver's seat. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the jittery nerves you hadn’t even realized you were holding onto.
The final leg of the drive felt like it stretched on forever, even though only a few hours had passed since you were on the mountain. There was something different in the air now. The soft, quiet hum of the road felt more like a countdown to something important.
Every few minutes, Justin would glance over at you, a soft smile curling at his lips as if trying to reassure himself just as much as you. His hand eventually found itself encasing yours, his thumb making lazy circles over your skin. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence, calm and unwavering, was more than enough.
When the exit for Eugene finally appeared, you felt your pulse quicken. This was it. This was the moment.
“Here we go,” Justin murmured, his voice somehow more steady than his movements, as he guided the car off the highway and toward the familiar road leading to his childhood home.
The transition felt sudden, but not uncomfortable. It was a quiet moment of realization that everything you’d shared so far had been leading to this point. He was letting you in. You were meeting the people who mattered most to him, the ones who had shaped him into the man he was today.
As you approached the house, you could see the familiar outline of the porch, a few trees swaying in the breeze, and a small garage you guessed held memories of Justin’s childhood. The house was modest, but there was a sense of warmth and familiarity that seemed to radiate from the front door, even from the car.
Justin slowed as he approached, his hand reaching over to squeeze yours one last time before he parked the car. He looked over at you, eyes soft but serious, like he was searching for your reassurance.
“You ready?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with both excitement and nerves.
You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah. Ready.”
And with that, the two of you got out of the car and walked toward the front door of his family’s home, the journey that had brought you here feeling like both an ending and a beginning.
The door swung open before you even knocked, and there stood his mom, her arms outstretched.
She was gorgeous, her dark hair a stark contrast to Justin's much lighter features. But she wasn't interested in him at all, making a beeline for you straight away. “Oh, you’re even more beautiful than he said! I’m Holly—come in, come in!"
You barely had time to process her words before you were enveloped in a warm hug, her energy immediately putting you at ease. Over her shoulder, you spot Justin’s dad, Mark, standing on the porch with a reserved smile, and Justin’s brothers are leaning against the doorway, smirking. Justin laughed softly behind you, side stepping you and his mom. "Alright, let her breathe please? It'd be helpful if she made it through this entire night without suffocating," he jokes as his mom pulls away, rolling her eyes as she gives him a hug.
A younger guy who looks almost exactly like a mustached version of your boyfriend greets you next. "Hi, I'm Patrick. Glad Mitch wasn't lying and you are a real person, but pro tip? You're way out of this dork's league," he says with a serious face, nodding his head towards his older brother.
Justin glares at him and doesn't respond, muttering something under his breath that only Patrick catches as he bursts into a fit of laughter. You give Mitch a hug—the familiar face of Justin's older brother a welcome sight. He was a first-year orthopedic surgery resident at UCLA, the perfect situation for him and Justin to live together again. You'd been able to meet him on several occasions which proved useful in easing your nerves about meeting everyone else. “How was the drive? Are you guys staying at the ranch tonight?”
“We are,” you replied with a smile. “I’m really excited to finally see this infamous place.”
Justin’s dad steps forward, his handshake firm but warm, his eyes studying you with quiet curiosity before his face softens into a welcoming smile. “Don’t let these two scare you off. We’re happy to finally meet you. Let's head inside, I think Holly already has the baby pictures set out and ready for you to go through," he smiles, patting Justin on the back as his son shakes his head.
"You're lucky your dad talked me out of making a PowerPoint Presentation because we were seconds away from watching a pre dinner slideshow." Holly says to him with a small smile as everyone steps inside.
Patrick's voice cuts through everyone's laughter, "she's not even kidding, it was about to have music included and everything but dad saved you. I was about to give her some of the best material." He looks over at you, overenunciating for emphasis. "Two words: bowl. Cut."
"See what I have to deal with?" Justin whispers, gently pulling you into his side. Mark and Holly exchange knowing looks but don't say anything.
The house smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread, like warmth itself had settled into the walls. Framed pictures lined the hallways—some faded with time, others vibrant and new—each capturing a story of childhood adventures and hard-won victories. The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the cozy living room. This wasn’t just a house; it was a sanctuary, a place where love was stitched into the very fabric of its foundation.
On the table in the living room is a stack of photo albums from when Justin was a newborn all the way up until his senior year of college. Countless memories were shared in these frames, a clearly busy but joyful childhood filled with love, laughter and lots of sporting events of all kinds. You could see that this family valued quality time with each other and the home you were in radiated warmth and love.
You ran your fingers lightly over the plastic covering of one album, tracing the faded marker label: Justin – Year 3. Inside, a chubby-cheeked toddler grinned back at you, his tiny facial features stretched in a mischievous but slightly forced smile.
“He never changed,” Patrick teased. “Still hates cameras.”
His words made you laugh a little because it was true, but you also saw something deeper. A boy who had grown up in a home where love wasn’t measured in trophies or contracts but in moments. The same boy who had fought to protect his private life in the face of stadium lights and national attention. You understood now—it wasn’t about secrecy. It was about keeping his people, the most important part of him, safe.
Your gaze flickered to Justin, his fingers tapping against his thigh—a telltale sign of deep thought. He wasn’t just reminiscing. He was remembering what it felt like to carry all of this, to be seen as something larger than life before he even had a chance to grow into it. And yet, here, he wasn’t the NFL quarterback. He was just...Justin.
"He was the starter by the end of that season, kind of became the hometown hero from then," Mitch sighs, sifting through some of the photos. "Things kind of got chaotic after that, with comparisons and people talking on social media."
"It was annoying," Justin cuts in, "deleted my Instagram after that. Only got it back around the draft for endorsement purposes." His words are dry, like it was painful or embarrassing thinking back to that time.
You had always respected, even admired, Justin’s need for privacy. But sitting here, surrounded by the people who had shaped him, you understood where it all came from: it wasn’t just about keeping the world out—it was about keeping his world safe. The weight of expectations, the relentless scrutiny, the unspoken pressure to be perfect—it had started young. He hadn’t chosen to be private. He had been forced to learn how to protect the things that mattered most.
And that’s what this house and his family was.
His one refuge from a world that always wanted more.
"Alright," Holly says, breaking you out of your epiphany, "who's ready to eat?"
This was a family you could definitely see yourself being a part of. Justin seemed so much more relaxed and at ease here which was a stark contrast to what you'd seen from him recently. His job was unforgiving, unrelenting. And the fans? You thanked your lucky stars daily for the fact that Justin wasn't on Twitter, especially after the Houston loss. This is where he belonged, these were his people. They didn't care about the stats or the money or everything that came with it and that's exactly how he wanted to be treated. He had a home in these people. He'd only found that comfort and peace one other time since he left Eugene.
And that was when he met you.
Dinner went on seamlessly, Mark joking asked if you two had a wedding date set after watching his son not-so-subtly check in on you throughout your stay. There were inside jokes, little moments of laughter from your relationship with Justin like how you had to adjust to his crazy hours in the facility from Monday-Wednesday but Thursdays were the days that really mattered, it was just the two of you. And sometimes Mitch and Isabella. But those were the days that brought you even closer, those little moments, just like this one that brought you so much joy it felt like you'd explode. There was easy laughter, Patrick telling some story about Justin being so private and how much he likes to keep to himself that he never thought he'd see this day. You spoke up and reassured him that you think you've successfully peeled back some layers and found your best friend in the process. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Mitch giving Patrick a nudge. Even Mark cracked a little smile, but all you could focus on was Justin's subtle smile that spoke volumes, in his own unique way. After everyone was finished with their meal, you found yourself in the kitchen with Holly, helping her plate dessert while the guys debated football in the other room.
“He’s different with you, you know.” She nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel before leaning against the counter.
Your hands froze mid-reach. A small knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. “Different good or…?”
She smiled, her eyes soft with something unreadable. “Good. Really good.” There was a wistfulness in her expression, something unspoken lingering in the air. “You remind me of someone.”
You tilted your head, curiosity sparking. “Oh?”
“His grandma. My mom,” she said, voice quieter now, like the weight of memory had settled over her. “She was the only one who could ever get my dad to slow down. He was always moving—always thinking about the next challenge, the next goal. But with her, it was…different. She had this way of pulling him back to the present, reminding him that love isn’t measured in achievements. That life isn’t just about what you do—it’s about who you share it with.”
Her eyes met yours then, her meaning unmistakable. “Seeing you and Justin felt very similar to seeing them together again. It’s really nice to see him be with someone who helps him to reel it in a little.”
Your heart clenched, warmth blooming in your chest. You swallowed past the lump in your throat, forcing out a small laugh. “Well, he’s still a workaholic, so I might not be that good at it.”
Holly chuckled. “That’s just who he is. But I see the way he looks at you. The way he’s always checking in. You’re his home. His safe space.” She paused, and added softly, “And that’s all a mother could ever want for her son.”
You blinked back the unexpected sting of tears and watched as Holly swiped at her eyes. Before you could really process what you were doing, you were hugging her again. All the nerves and tension from earlier have completely vanished. Justin might not say much, but his actions had always spoken volumes. And now, hearing it from his mom—knowing that she saw it too—meant more than you could put into words.
The two of you walked back in with trays holding little bowls filled with apple crisp and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top with caramel drizzle.
As Justin watched you, something settled in his chest—a feeling he hadn’t even known he was searching for. His mom was smiling at you in that way she only did when she had already decided someone was family. His dad—usually quiet, reserved—nodded along to your words like he genuinely enjoyed the conversation. His brothers, relentless as ever, had already started pulling you into their teasing.
And there you were. Sitting beside him, laughing like you belonged here. Because you did.
An hour later, after lingering goodbyes and a few last jokes, you walked side by side to his car. As Justin slid into the driver’s seat, he exhaled slow and deep. A weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying finally lifted. Maybe it was the fear of his two worlds colliding. Maybe it was the quiet, unspoken worry that you wouldn’t fit into this part of his life.
But you did. Seamlessly. Effortlessly. Like you were always meant to.
“Well,” you said, patting his thigh with a teasing grin, “that went great. Can’t believe you were so freaked out.”
He turned to you, feigning offense before shaking his head with a laugh. The sound of it filled the car, warm and easy. You joined in, your laughter melting into his as he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.
This. This is what home should feel like.
Justin leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “Told you they’d love you,” he murmured.
But as he pulled back, hand still wrapped around yours, the thought hit him like a slow-burning realization.
I think I might love you too.
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senitylolz · 2 days ago
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Drugged up in love♡
!!WARNINGS!! nam-gyu x reader, p in v, fingering, sex under the influence of drugs, unprotected sex, degradation ( us of the terms "slut, whore" and such), public sex, choking, overstimulation
Also, english isn't my first language, so sorry for the typo mistakes!(⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)
Nam-gyu can't sleep because the drugs are keeping him up all night long anyways, so what's better than pulling all nighters? Impregnating your gf while pulling all nighters together~~ ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡
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After the second game, things started to get boring, and with Thanos giving nam-gyu a damn pill, it still only hyped him up a little bit. And good thing he already did drugs and such because this thing was STRONG. So Thanos wasn't over exaggerating the effects, even if it was an hour into night-time in here, he still couldn't even close his eyes for a minute!
So there you were, the pretty little chick he pulled years ago, his precious little girlfriend.
He quickly got up from his bed from the other huge bunks of beds and climbed down to yours. He didn't say anything. He just laid down beside you and pulled you closer.
Your body heat and closeness (and the drugs) were quick to show its effects on his body, which was a raging hard boner right up against your stomach.
After a few minutes, he got enough and pulled his pants down, grabbing your leg and putting it over his hip. He then started to slowly thrust his dick between your legs, your pants kind of hurt as the material wasn't the best for this type of thing (and the sensitivity of his dick) it kind of scratched, but he couldn't have minded less right now.
After a few moments of that, his tip was redder than a strawberry, it was just aching to be inside of you already and paint those pretty little pink walls of yours white, he was an impatient man, after all.
He changed positions so he was on top of you, pulling your pants down along with your underwear, and the moment those were off, he slid his tip up and down your entrance, he was leaking so much pre-cum it was good for lube.
He then slowly entered you with a small huff, and when he was halfway in, he gave some deep thrusts so his tip was kissing your cervix.
Of course, at this move, you were starting to feel it, still not waking up fully from your slumber though.
He pulled back slowly then set an immediate brutal pace, and THAT woke you up now
"h-hah? Nam-gyu?"
You moaned out, still not sure what was happening completely. He just put a hand over your mouth and leaned down to your ear to whisper in it
"you don't wanna wake the others now, do you? Be a good little bitch in heat and take it, whore~"
Now you slowly started to get your senses back and you nodded slowly as he kept thrusting in and out of you. He continued whispering dirty things in your ear, some groans and grunts leaving him here and there. You also tightened at his sounds and the things he was saying, sucking his dick deeper into your gummy walls.
As you two were both nearing your peak, he reached down to rub your clit fast while he sped up his hips with a long groan in your ear and you bit his hand.
You tried to keep silent but when he came in you, you let a louder moan slip out as you slipped over the edge too.
His hips slowed down after that, panting next to your ear with a little curse word. When you thought it was over, he started to move his hips again and again.
As you were ready to complain you bit back a moan as he bit your neck so hard you were sure he broke skin.
You were already starting to get overstimulated so you just whined and whined until he slid his hand from your mouth to your neck, choking you a little bit
"awh.. poor little slut needs a break? I'm not stopping 'till i knock at least triplets in ya~"
He chuckled darkly and now went slow but so deep you swore his tip was in your womb. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, just nodding again. You were seeing stars, already knowing that your legs would be sore tomorrow morning.
He sped up again, not loosening his grip on your neck, pulling you up into a sloppy kiss as he came in you again.
You came together, but your pussy clenched so hard around his dick he moaned into the kiss. After he pulled away, he started to move his hips again, your combined juices leaking out of your hole as he thrusted in and out
"just another 5 more rounds won't hurt, princess~"
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iwasbored777 · 2 days ago
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I've been reading posts about GUN and I know they're going to be so bad in the fourth movie. Because not only is it possible that Rockwell, you know the openly xenophobic agent, will be the leader, but we're also going to have the Metal Sonics. When GUN sees alien threats built from the image of the alien they hate the most and can't chase, it's going to be the perfect excuse to want to capture Sonic and also Tails and Knuckles for sure. Not only that, with Amy in the movie it's going to get worse! If she really can travel through time with her chaos energy, I have no doubt that GUN will want to capture her too so they don't get this insane trump card. I dare say that a Team Heroes X GUN conflict is kind of inevitable.
Thanks for this ask cuz I feel so honoured to shame GUN for everything they've done. That previous post about Shadow wasn't enough, they did so many terrible things and I can't believe I didn't write this before your ask.
I can barely list all the worst things they did but I'll try and I'll answer to your other stuff so I hope you're ready and I hope you don't mind this whole analysis 😅 but I really wanted to talk more about GUN and since you clearly hate/dislike them just as much as I do (and many feel the same way) I really want to complain about them to someone who'll listen:
They were the ones that sent Robotnik in the first place. At least at the beginning he was just doing his job.
They knew that Gerald was Ivo's grandfather and alive all these years but they chose to not tell Ivo and let him think that he has no family his entire life. They used him because he was a genius and wanted him to make all those inventions for them and when they thought that he died they just acted as if he never existed.
They hired one of their agents to seduce Sonic's aunt, propose to her, and plan the whole wedding so that they would capture Sonic (I'm sorry I'm trying to stay serious but what the hell is wrong with GUN?! I don't know if I should cry or laugh and this is only the beginning). Poor Rachel too! They didn't care about anyone whether it was humans or aliens. I kinda wasn't happy that Rachel couldn't stay mad, what they did to her was horrible.
They captured Sonic and Tails. Tails was injured when they captured him and they didn't do anything about it, they simply put him and Sonic in cages after they tased Sonic to make sure he's unconscious too, they arrested Tom too when he tried to defend his son. This scene always breaks me, poor babies 😢
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They found Shadow when he landed on Earth, kidnapped him, held him in a cryo pod and were doing experiments on him. (Gee, I wonder why Tom and Maddie didn't trust GUN with Sonic and kept Sonic hidden in their house instead after the first movie).
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They were responsible for the death of a child, Maria (Walters did try to protect her and Shadow but when others killed her he mistreated Shadow. He definitely had more sympathy for Maria, she was a human child after all.) This moment right here physically hurts me cuz not only that they don't seem to care about the child they just killed but also they're surrounding Shadow and Gerald with weapons as if Shadow and Gerald were the ones who did something terrible here... They didn't care about the child they just killed, they only wanted to capture Shadow, that was their priority and Maria was just a collateral damage.
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Right after they killed Maria they threw Gerald, her grandfather who loved her, in jail for 50 years and forced him to make Eclipse Cannon, that can destroy the planet. He went crazy because of all that and WHO WOULDN'T?!
They froze Shadow for 50 years (would definitely stay frozen way longer if he didn't escape) because they just didn't know what to do with him and kept him awake and fully aware of what they were doing to him during the process. I'll once again remind y'all of Walters' comment that Shadow was "too valuable to destroy", because Shadow was property to them and not a young living being with feelings and trauma that they gave him. His face here breaks my heart... Look how helpless he was here...
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I added as many examples of how terrible GUN is as I can remember but if there are more you can always add them in the comments. I could easily add every scene and every screenshot with GUN cuz even at their better moments, they're still really bad, but I tried to pick the most important parts.
As for Rockwell, yeah she's gonna be a handful. She's definitely worse than Walters. At least he realized in his last moments that you can trust some aliens, but she isn't going to be easy to convince. They'll probably be even worse from now on and they probably didn't learn their lesson after Shadow. They better not hurt my baby girl Amy or the Colorful Bunch. I have some theories but I'd rather wait and see what's next.
Amy was hiding her identity here from Metal Sonic but I'm not sure if she doesn't want GUN to find her either cuz she's not hiding from Sonic, she let him see her.
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Either way, it's not going to be easy for our alien kids and GUN gave me no reason to trust them so far. It says a lot that Robotnik and Stone were WAY more likeable to me than GUN. I hope GUN will leave Shadow alone and if they can't, I hope he'll kick GUN's butts again.
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bennysmiller · 2 days ago
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I love your writing! Would you consider writing a short fic where you’re one of Santi’s friends and he sets you up on a blind date with Frankie? Bonus points for Frankie being kind of shy and adorable
Blind Date - Frankie Morales x Reader
Thank you so much for your request!! I really hope this is okay 🩷
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I have a friend. He’s single. You’re single. You’re both recently out of long-term relationships. You can awkwardly return to the dating scene together. But seriously, I think you’ll like each other. How does that sound?
You laughed when Santi sent you that text. But two weeks later, you were pacing anxiously in your kitchen waiting for your cab to arrive. You’d partly agreed to the date to shut Santi up, because you knew he’d complain about your complaining if he’d offered you a way out of the single life and you’d refused, without even giving him a chance. Finding a good man was difficult, so it was worth trying, right?
The cab ride to the restaurant was painful, to say the least. You couldn’t help but question if you were doing the right thing, but Santi was one of the few people you actually trusted, and he wouldn’t have set the date up if he didn’t think you’d actually get along.
Five minutes. This Frankie guy was five minutes late. You tapped your fingers on the table, trying to distract yourself from the fact that he maybe got cold feet himself. But out of the corner of your eye, you see a little bit of commotion near the entrance of the restaurant.
A man has a bouquet of roses in one hand, and the other was messing with the soft curls on top of his head. He looked as thought he’d ran all the way there. He was frantically looking around and trying to catch his breath, while also explaining to the wait staff who he was there for.
Someone’s in trouble, you think to yourself. And then it hits you. Man who looks like he’s supposed to be on a date, also looks like he has turned up late to said date?
Then you hear your name. And a few curse words that he muttered under his breath in embarrassment. You look up, and it’s him.
“Shit. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t get off work. Then I realised I’d forgotten to get you flowers. I hope you like roses.” He said, as you stood up to greet him.
“Frankie? You’re fine. I mean, not fine as in handsome, just fine as in ‘you don’t need to apologise for being late’. Actually, you’re fine as in handsome too, but-“
Disaster. Two seconds in and it was a disaster.
He hands you the flowers and you thank Frankie, before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you.
“Let’s start over, huh Frankie? We both screwed up there.” You say as you settle at the table.
“Sure, I could take a redo at that”, he laughs and he blushes a little when you laugh back.
You just looked so beautiful. Frankie wished Santi had warned him about that.
The rest of the date went better than either of you could have ever imagined. The chemistry was just as Santi had promised in his myriad of texts to you about it. He knew. He always knew. And you needed to thank him for this one.
Frankie was so pleased with himself, he had you laughing all night. Even in his truck, on the way home. The radio was on, the windows were down, and the conversation was flowing so effortlessly. It was a movie scene straight from a movie that the two of you had no idea was only the first part of many.
“I’d love to see you again,” said Frankie, as he admired the way you looked in the glow of your porch light. “If you feel the same, of course”.
“I feel the same, don’t you worry about that.” You smiled at him and kissed his cheek, which took the poor man by surprise. “Goodnight, Frankie”.
The look you gave him over your shoulder as you opened your front door would be thought about until you graced him with your presence a second time.
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misspelledwordswizard · 1 day ago
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How about a reaction from the Chain to a witch Reader, but in a Harry Potter style?
Reader, in addition to being scared at first, would undoubtedly be confused by the blatant display of magic without punishment. It doesn’t help that she quickly mistakes and identifies Twilight as an Animagus after seeing Wolfie just once. It would definitely lead to an interesting conversation where Reader reveals herself as a witch and explains how, in her world, the Statute of Secrecy exists, along with the reasons it was created.
The Chain would be horrified not by the massive concealment of magic itself, but by the reasons behind it, with the main one being the indiscriminate hunting of magical beings.
Hey, I'm back baby! After a while on vacation and having to deal with the return of my classes, I was finally able to organize myself to return fully, I hope. But hey, I'm sorry for the huge delay with the requests, and happy new year to everyone, considering that this is my first post of the year!
Oh, thanks for the request, I really love crossovers, and I love Harry Potter!
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I’ve been here for a few weeks, traveling with this group of men who claim to be heroes of the realm, or something like that. I’m not sure how I ended up here, but it was obvious that this was a different world from mine. For starters, the humans here have pointy ears, like elves. Okay, I can deal with that. And then there are other races, which I’ve never seen anything like in my world. I mean, a race of stone men, seriously? Not to mention the totally different monsters. 
But none of these things surprised me as much as the lack of care with the exposure of magic. Everyone, even the supposed “muggles” who don’t have magic, are fully aware of its existence. It’s natural, it’s normal. But it’s also strange that they don’t have any organ that regulates its use, considering how much it is used. 
From what I could see, one of my traveling companions, who took me in for some reason when I fell on top of them after passing through a strange portal, has magic and uses it medicinally.  I don’t know if the others can do things like that, but from what I’ve noticed, most of them have some object that has some magical property and makes things easier. That boy with the rings – I think his nickname was Legend – has one for every situation. 
Well, okay, I know they’re all called Link, confusing, even more confusing when I found out they’re from different timelines. Is temporal magic really that normalized around here? I’ve only been with them for a short time, and I still find it hard to associate them with their nicknames, because not only are they all blond with blue eyes, which doesn’t help much, but each one seems to have about three different nicknames, and each one is weirder than the last. 
Okay, I’m in a different world, where magic is common and doesn’t need to be hidden. I’m traveling with a group of heroes from different eras who consider themselves brothers, and are, from what I can understand, reincarnations... so why are they acting like this wolf that appeared is some kind of pet? 
— Soooo... you know that this wolf is one of you transformed, right? – I ventured to say. 
Everyone’s eyes turned to me, surprised. They didn’t know? Seriously? They looked at each other momentarily before someone finally answered me. 
— Well, we do know, but how do you know? – The long-haired hero spoke, the Cook, if I’m not mistaken.  
— And how could you not know? It couldn’t be more obvious, I mean, even the markings on his face are the same as the wolf’s, they’re never seen together in the same place, and, to tell the truth, Twilight kind of smells like dog. It’s pretty obvious that he’s an Animagus.  
— Animagus? Huh, Wolfie, are you that thing she said? – The youngest of the group spoke, and the wolf just tilted his head in confusion.  
— Oh, great, it takes her three minutes to figure that out while eight heroes took months to do the same. – Legend complained.  
— Speak for yourself, I knew from the beginning!  
So, they already knew about it, and were just pretending so I wouldn’t find out? Strange people.  
 While the others debated who had been the first to find out about Wolfie, he retransformed, without having to worry about hiding his secret, and approached me, visibly confused and curious. 
— So, in your world, it’s normal for people to turn into animals? 
— I wouldn’t say it’s common, but it’s possible, and all wizards know about it. 
— Wizards? What about people without magic, don’t they know? – The hero with magic joined the conversation, visibly curious. 
— No, of course not. We can’t let the Muggles find out about magic! 
— Muggles? – The little boy asked, interested in the way I called the non-magic users. 
— They’re the non-wizards, we keep magic hidden from them, or else we’d go to war... it’s very dangerous, that’s why the Ministry of Magic exists, to make sure wizards don’t reveal themselves. 
— For Hylia, your world is confusing. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to live in a society as segregated as this one... – I heard the comment coming from one of the quieter boys, the one called Sky. 
 — Yes, well, but it is necessary, or else wizards would still be burned at the stake for using magic to this day. 
— WHAT?! – Everyone gasped as they heard my last statement, shocked by the brutal concept. Oh man, I think this conversation will go on for much longer than I had imagined. 
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bitchinbarzal · 19 hours ago
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Operation mom & dad | M Boldy
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summary: jade is determined to get her mom and dad back together.
The roar of the crowd echoes through the Xcel as Matt takes the ice, his number bold on the back of his jersey. You watch from the stands, Jade perched on your lap, her tiny hands clapping wildly.
“Daddy’s the best, right, Mommy?” she asks, turning her bright green eyes up at you.
You smile, ruffling her soft brown curls. “Of course he is, baby.”
It’s always been like this. You and Matt—co-parenting effortlessly, supporting each other despite the past. Your friends tease that you’re just pretending to be broken up, that no exes should get along this well. But the truth is, you and Matt have a rhythm. A history. A love that never really faded, even if things didn’t work out the way you once planned.
But if there’s one person determined to change that, it’s your daughter.
Attempt #1: The Forgotten Jacket
It starts small. Too small to suspect anything at first.
One night, after dropping Jade off at Matt’s place, you get a call just as you’re pulling into your driveway.
“Mommy!” Jade’s voice is serious, like she’s on an important mission. “You forgot your jacket at Daddy’s!”
Your brows knit together. “Are you sure? I don’t think I—”
“You did,” she insists. “You have to come back. Right now.”
With a chuckle, you turn around and drive back. When you get there, Matt is standing in the doorway, holding his hoodie.
“She meant this,” he says, amused. “Pretty sure this has been in my closet since before she was born.”
Jade beams between you, looking way too proud of herself.
“You should keep it, Mommy,” she chirps. “It smells like Daddy.”
Your face heats, and Matt rubs the back of his neck, clearly unsure how to respond.
“Uh, thanks, J,” you mumble, clutching the hoodie to your chest as you leave.
It smells like cedar and something familiar. Like home.
Attempt #2: The ‘Oops, There’s Only One Bed’ Trick
On a weekend trip to Chicago for one of Matt’s away games, you and Jade stay in the same hotel.
Everything is fine—until you realize that your perfectly booked two-bed room has somehow turned into a single king-sized bed.
“The team told me they asked for two beds,” you tell the front desk, exasperated.
The receptionist frowns. “Your daughter told us you wanted one bed. I am so sorry we have nothing else available”
Your head snaps toward Jade, who grins, completely unrepentant.
“Jade—”
“It was worth a try,” she shrugs.
Matt arrives moments later, taking in the situation with a smirk. “Guess I’m sleeping on the floor.”
But when Jade starts fake crying—“We can all share! It’s a big bed!”—you both cave, lying stiffly on opposite sides.
Still, sometime in the middle of the night, you wake up to Matt’s arm draped over your waist. And instead of moving away, you let yourself sink into it—just for a moment.
Attempt #3: The School Art Project
Parent-teacher night at Jade’s school is usually straightforward. You admire her work, chat with her teacher, and call it a night.
Except this time, her teacher greets you and Matt with a knowing smile.
“You have to see what Jade made,” she gushes, leading you to a table filled with colorful drawings.
There, in bright crayon strokes, is a picture of you, Matt, and Jade—holding hands, a big red heart above your heads. The words MY FAMILY are scrawled in crooked letters at the top.
You glance at Matt. He’s staring at the drawing, something unreadable in his expression.
“She talks about you two all the time,” the teacher says warmly. “How much she loves when you’re all together.”
Matt looks at you then, his blue eyes softer than you’ve seen in years.
And your heart stumbles.
Attempt #4: The “Oops, We Missed the Game” Move
One evening, as you’re supposed to take Jade to Matt’s game, she starts complaining of a “tummy ache.”
You fuss over her, canceling your plans, but by the time puck drop comes around, she’s suddenly perfectly fine.
“Jade…” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Were you really sick?”
She bats her lashes innocently. “I just thought Daddy would come check on us if we didn’t show up.”
You sigh, settling in to watch from the couch.
After the game you were tidying up when the door rings.
It’s Matt.
“You okay?” he asks, concern evident in his face “Saw you weren’t at the game.”
You exchange a glance with your daughter, who looks way too smug.
“We’re fine” you murmur.
Matt looks like he wants to say something more, but instead, he just ruffles Jade’s hair and stays for a while.
And you don’t mind. Not one bit.
The Breaking Point
It happened suddenly. A long shift at the hospital, a reckless driver on the road, and before you know it, you’re lying in a hospital bed instead of standing beside one.
You’re mostly fine—just a concussion, a few bruised ribs—but when you finally open your eyes, the first thing you see is Matt.
He’s sitting in the chair beside you, elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped tightly together. He looks exhausted, his usual steady composure cracked wide open. His hair is a mess, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times, and there’s a crease between his brows that only deepens when he notices you stirring.
“Y/N.” His voice is raw, barely above a whisper.
You try to smile, but your ribs protest at the movement. “Hey, Matty.”
He exhales sharply, his whole body seeming to uncoil as he leans forward, his hands hovering like he wants to touch you but doesn’t know if he should.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he murmurs. “I got the call in the middle of practice, and I just—” He drags a hand down his face, exhaling harshly. “I thought— I don’t even know what I thought. I just knew I had to get to you.”
Your heart clenches. “I’m okay,” you reassure him softly. “Just a little banged up.”
But he doesn’t look comforted. If anything, his jaw tightens, his hands clenching into fists.
“You shouldn’t have been alone” he says after a moment “I should’ve been there.”
His words make something ache deep inside you, something that’s been lingering for far too long.
“Matt…”
He finally reaches for your hand then, threading his fingers through yours. His grip is firm, steady, like he needs to feel you to believe you’re still here.
“I can’t do this anymore” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your chest tightens. “Do what?”
“This” He gestures vaguely between you, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over your knuckles. “Pretending like we’re just co-parents. Like we don’t still—” He stops himself, inhaling deeply before meeting your gaze “Like I don’t still love you.”
The words settle between you, heavy and fragile all at once.
Your breath catches, your heart pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it.
“Matt…”
He shakes his head, his grip tightening. “No, just— just let me say this, okay? I thought we were doing the right thing, staying apart. I told myself that over and over again. But every time I see you, every time we’re together with Jade, it feels like I’m right back where I’m supposed to be. And tonight, when I thought—” He swallows hard. “I can’t lose you, Y/N. I don’t want to spend another second pretending like you’re not my home”
Tears sting your eyes. Because God, you know. You’ve always known.
Your life without Matt has never really been a life without him. He’s always been there, steady and sure, woven into your every day. And maybe you were both too stubborn or too scared to admit it before.
“I love you,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped”
A tear slips down your cheek, and Matt reaches up to catch it with his thumb. His hand lingers, his palm warm against your skin.
You lean into the touch, exhaling shakily “I love you, too.”
The relief that washes over his face is immediate. And then he’s kissing you—soft at first, careful, like he’s afraid you might disappear. But when you pull him closer, fingers tangling in his hoodie, it deepens into something more—something familiar, something new, something that feels like coming home.
A tiny gasp from the doorway makes you break apart, and you both turn to find Jade standing there, eyes wide with delight.
“Are you kissing?” she asks, her little hands pressed to her mouth.
You laugh breathlessly, swiping at your damp cheeks. “We are”
Jade lets out an excited squeal and bolts down the hall. “GRANDMA! GRANDPA! DADDY AND MOMMY ARE IN LOVE!”
Matt groans, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “She’s never gonna let us live that down”
You grin, threading your fingers through his hair. “Probably not”
He pulls back, brushing his nose against yours. “Guess that means we have to make it official, huh?”
Your heart swells.
“Yeah” you whisper. “I guess we do.”
And as he kisses you again,you know, without a doubt, that you’ve finally found your way back home.
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luwritesstuff · 3 days ago
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Heya! Can I get an Eddie Diaz x fem!reader?
911 is my newest obsession and I love his character :)
So sorry for the delay! real life is kicking my ass lately 😮‍���� but i hope you love this!!
Moving Too Fast?
Eddie Diaz x fem!reader
wc: 1.1k
notes: afab!reader, no use of y/n. fluff, fluff, and more fluff :)
The first time Eddie said it, you thought it was a joke. You were on a call and complaining about having to drive all the way across town to get more clothes to stay with your boyfriend. It was a complaint you aired out often, you lived only a few miles from Eddie, but with LA traffic, the drive regularly took you over 20 minutes. Eddie shrugged his shoulders, “Why don't you just bring all of your clothes next time?” He'd said it so nonchalantly that you were sure he had been joking. Your patient began coding before you could ask and the topic didn't come up again until a few days later.
The two of you were alone in the loft of the firehouse on dish duty when it came up again. Which was really Eddie loading dishes into the dishwasher while you sat on the counter and watched, occasionally stealing a kiss. “Come over later?” He asked, shutting the door to the dishwasher and finally coming to stand between your legs.
You hummed and let your arms sling over his shoulders, “Can't. It's laundry day, and you know I have to be there so Mrs. Everly doesn't take my clothes out of the washer.” You weren't thrilled to be in your 30’s and still using a shared laundry space, but your apartment was rent controlled and really, you'd never had a reason to move. Until Eddie spoke again.
“You know, if you lived with me, you wouldn't have to fight anyone for a washing machine. I even have a dryer, too,” Eddie was so casual, again, and you had to take a minute to look at each other to tell if he was being serious. “I mean it,” he answered before you could ask, “Move in with me. I'm closer to work, too.”
And okay, he made some good points. You'd save so much on gas and his place really was nicer, but, “What about Chris? It's his home, too. And-” Before you could finish, the alarm was pulling you out of your conversation and down to the engines. The two of you shared a look that the conversation wasn't over, even if the rest of the day was back to back calls and you barely had a chance to catch your breath. Let alone make a major decision about the future of your relationship.
Later came when you were leaving the locker rooms and Eddie caught you before you could sneak out to the parking lot without him. “I already talked to Christopher about it weeks ago. What else is scaring you?” He was by your side instantly and reaching for your free hand.
You sighed and gave his hand a squeeze, “I'm not scared, Eddie. It's just a big decision, okay? And it's not one that I thought I'd be making today and it's just-” You stopped to stand in front of him, “It's a lot. I love you, and yes, eventually we should move in together, but-”
“It's a lot,” Eddie finished your sentence and leaned down to catch you off guard with a quick kiss, “I know. You don't have to answer right now. Just promise me you'll think about it at least?” He asked. And you weren't a monster, so obviously you nodded and leaned up to steal another kiss. After a promise to see each other the next day, you went your separate ways.
It wasn't really a conscious decision to show up on Eddie’s doorstep later that evening. But you were on your way down the half-broken steps to the laundry room and suddenly you felt ridiculous. Why were you about to fight an old woman over a washing machine just to stay in an apartment that was falling apart and in one of the most inconvenient parts of the city? Before you could talk yourself out of it, you decided that no, you weren't going to do that.
Which is how you ended up standing in front of Eddie with your laundry basket in your hands and a duffel bag slung over your shoulder. “You're not allowed to get tired of me. Or judge how many sweatshirts I have,” was all you said, letting the grin on Eddie’s face mirror your own.
“Deal,” he said and reached out to take the basket from your hands in favor of pulling you inside. “You're really sure about this? I wasn't trying to pressure you earlier, it just felt like something we should start talking about,” he added and you felt your heart ache fondly. Eddie’s need to check in only made you feel more secure in your decision.
“I wouldn't have just sat in that traffic if I wasn't sure, trust me,” you hummed and dropped your duffel in favor of reaching up to cup your hands around the back of Eddie’s neck. “You and Buck are gonna have to figure out how to get my dresser in your room, though. I'm not mixing my neatly folded clothes with your mess of crumpled up shirts.”
“I think you mean our room,” was all Eddie said before effectively ending the conversation with a firm kiss. “I love you,” he mumbled against your skin and dragged you down the hall to your room.
Later, when your clothes were drying and Eddie had gotten the rest of your stuff from your car, you were laying on his chest while he ran his fingers over your scalp. “Hey,” he spoke softly and sat up on his elbow to look down at you, “what you said earlier, about me getting tired of you. You don't really think that, do you?”
You shrugged and felt unable to make up some excuse with the way his brown eyes were staring into you. “I know you wouldn't, honestly. But you know about the last time I lived with someone I was dating and there's a reason I've lived alone ever since, you know? I know that this is the right decision for us, but I can't help worrying that it's gonna ruin this amazing thing we have going on.”
“That's not gonna happen, baby. You're it for me and I wouldn't have asked you to do this if I thought for even a second that it wouldn't work,” Eddie’s voice was reassuring as always and you couldn't help but agree. “Besides, even if we have second thoughts, Chris is never letting you leave. He's excited to finally have someone that cooks living here,” he teased. You rolled your eyes and pulled him down into a kiss, “You're right, I can't abandon him here with your disastrous cooking.”
“I love you,” Eddie promised.
You believed him, “I love you, too.”
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connorsui · 7 hours ago
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A little prompt if you're interested in the idea:
Imagine suggesting to Sylus "hay, why don't we go to an amusement park?" and instead of buying the tickets (and maybe bribing staff into turning cameras off for the day), what does this man do? He rents/buys the whole amusement park (OUR FAVORITE ONE BTW) so we are the only customers that day and is confused by our "BRO, WHAT?!" reaction.
Did he get your favorite park wrong? Would you prefer another? Should he just get EVERY ONE (thats good anyway) just in case? Would that make you happy?
In truth, you're just confused as fuck cause, THIS WAS NOT WHAT YOU MEANT (you're not gonna complain though, especially after its already been done). You just wanted a nice day out with your boyfriend. See what rides he liked. And ngl, you're kinda overwhelmed by this supposedly "simple" act of affection cause, again, ITS A WHOLE DAMN PARK DOES HE REALLY HAVE THIS MUCH MONEY HOW THE HELL DID HE EVEN DO THIS!! Like, you're happy of course. He's always so sweet and thoughtful (*cough* stalker *cough* *cough*) of you but you're still overwhelmed by this.
Like, how does this work? Are you only ever gonna be the only customers here now or is it gonna run like normal when you aren't here and be all yours when you are? Would it really be right to just accept this? Should you ask him to sell it back? How are you even supposed to react to this?
This can end however you want it to. You don't have to do this, I honestly just thought you might like the idea when I thought of it. I hope you least liked reading it.
IF IM INTERESSTEDDDDDD!?!?!?? 😭😭🩷🩷🩷
My luv you had me intrigued...infact I was overjoyed at the instances of having sylus at the amusement park but also having him BUY THE WHOLE PLACE FOR A DAYYY!?
I'm sorry but as someone who is in love with fairs and carnivals I would actually enjoy a whole day by myself to indulge on the rides and greasy foods without having to wait for other people to get some aswell
Overpriced ice creams? Cotton candy that's larger than my head? ..OH LAWD IM RENAMING THE PARK AFTER ME 🤡🤣🤣
Here's the fic I hope you enjoy it! ✨️✨️: Unlimited Access
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graceisinthelibrary · 2 days ago
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Oh, i love the fact that you are another round of prompts! The last ones were amazing!
Could you write 5 or 6 please?
Hi Honey,
thank you for asking :-) and your wish is my command! I chose no 5.
Here we go:
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The wind was the culprit. The breeze, born from the heavy summer heat, had taken it, smashing it completely. A storm was coming up and she had opened the back door and the windows to get rid of the warmth stuck in the rooms.
The scullery was always the hottest room of the house; a blessing in the rough winter months and a nuisance in the summer. Now that she looked at the broken pieces of the photoframe on the floor, Audrey scolded herself for her headlessness. The frame was broken, the shards of the glass were scattered all over the floor. They were a danger for the soft dog paws and for Jimmy who spent most of his days running, not walking. 
“Bugger,” Audrey mumbled as she kneeled down and began to pick up the pieces. “I’m so sorry.” Speaking with Evelyn’s photo had become a habit that had rubbed up on her from Siegfried. He often talked to Evelyn’s photo, maybe not as much as he used to, but every now and then, he was sitting in the old arm chair in his study and just talked to her. Mostly it was just some natter about his day, sometimes he sought advice. 
And now the photo frame was broken. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated. She had placed the frame on her desk, after she had recovered it from the dispensary. She had given it a proper cleaning, because one could never know what fluids were stuck in the delicate ornaments after it had spent some time in there. And then the wind had torn it down. Just like that. One breeze and it was gone. 
“For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone…” She thought about the psalm and felt tears rising. 
She dreaded the facial expression when he learned that the frame was gone. He wouldn’t blame her. He never did, but she could easily picture the sadness on his face once he learned about its fate. 
As she collected all the broken pieces and used her dustpan and hand brush for the rest, she kept talking to Evelyn’s counterfeit and promised her to buy a home for her portrait as soon as possible. Maybe not exactly the same, but the most beautiful she could find. Maybe on her next trip to Skipton or Brompton. 
Through the open door she heard the thunder rumble outside and through the window she could see that the clouds had become heavy. Soon the storm would break loose and Siegfried hadn’t come home yet. 
“I always worry when he’s out in bad weather,” she told Evelyn’s picture that was now lying on the kitchen table, unscathed. “But I reckon you know all about that.” 
The house was so silent that it began to scare her. The dogs, who probably sensed the nearing thunderstorm, were probably hiding upstairs in one of the bedrooms, Helen and Jimmy were at Heston. James and Tristan had gone to the Drovers for a pint before dinner. 
The rain began without forewarning. Heavy, thick drops were hitting the windows and the wind that entered the house felt chilly. As she went to the door she saw the Rover as it raced around the corner. Relief filled her chest and she smiled at Siegfried as he stormed across the yard. She stepped aside, ready to take over his tweet jacket and hat. 
“It’s really coming down!” He complained as he dropped his bag to the floor and shook like a wet dog. A small puddle was forming around him as he took off his soaked shoes. Even his socks were wet. 
“I’ll get you a towel,” she said as she placed his jacket over the rest of the chair so it could dry.  
He spotted the photo on the table before she could tell him. A blush, fierce and fretful, creeped over her cheeks. “It were an accident,” she said softly when he picked it up. 
“I wanted to clean it and then…” 
“It’s alright,” he said. “Don’t worry.” He held the photo with both hands, running his thumbs over the beloved face of his wife.  
“I’ll get a new frame as soon as possible,” she promised as she stepped next to him. “It were a silly mistake. I didn’t pay attention…” 
“I know.” He placed the photo back on the table and turned to Audrey who threatened to burst into tears. With a tender smile on his face he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and placed a kiss on her forehead. 
“She would never blame you and neither do I.” 
Audrey nodded and sniffed. Evelyn’s memory wasn’t as precious to her as to him, but she had grown to love the woman who had been his first wife. Evelyn had loved him first and she wouldn’t want him to forget about her. 
“Why don’t we buy the next frame together?” He suggested as she leaned her cheek against his shoulder. 
“I would love that,” she whispered. 
He cupped her face with both his hands and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. “And I, my dearest, love you.” 
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bootsukki · 23 hours ago
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3.
fic masterlist!
full masterlist!
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warnings: negative thoughts about self-image (i wish i could write more bc i'm excited for y'all to know about everything!!!!!!)
You don’t hear much from Tsukishima during the weekend, but you see him before you go to class on Monday. The conversation is short because he is in a rush about a presentation he has on the other side of campus so you just greet him as he goes.
The crisp November air hits your cheeks as you leave the apartment complex, breath curling into faint white wisps before vanishing into the cool morning. You tighten the scarf around your neck and start walking towards your first class of the day. The cold didn’t bother you at all—you loved that weather. The smell of damp earth and the faintest trace of chimney smoke as you walked next to one of your favourite cafeterias. Other students shuffled by, some hunched against the wind, complaining about the shitty weather or upcoming exams, others talking among themselves about their weekends, soft giggles as they recall something funny that happened on a bar. 
“Oi!”
You turned to see Kageyama Tobio approaching you. He was wearing a big sweatshirt and a long coat, holding a volleyball in his hands. His breath was visible in the cold air as he ran to your side and you slowed your pace, knowing that, probably he wasn’t just calling to say hi. 
“Going to class?”
”Uh…,” you mutter. “Yes. Do you have class around here?”
”Oh, no. Making my way to the gym.”
”Cool…” Kageyama eyed you up and down. “I should…”
”How did you and Tsukishima even happen?” Kageyama’s voice was laced with skepticism, but there was something else to his tone. “I mean, we didn’t know anything about you a week ago. Not even Yamaguchi knew you were talking.”
You smiled lightly, sensing that he was indeed trying to get something out of you. “It just did and Tsukki is a really private person, I guess.”
Kageyama scoffed, shifting his weight. “How long have you been together?”
“Since September.”
“You like him, huh’”
“I do.” It sounds a bit on the defensive side, so you just send a smile his way and hope he leaves.
“What’s his favourite food?”
You frown. “What’s the point of asking me this?”
Kageyama smirks. “Aren’t girlfriends, specially new girlfriends, supposed to know everything about their boyfriends?”
“You wouldn’t know, right?”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. Tsukishima and I are taking it slow.” 
“So, you’re not his girlfriend.”
“I am his girlfriend, but…” Kageyama laughs and you feel your blood boil at the sound. Is he trying to make fun of you?
“Sorry, I find it funny, really.” 
“What, exactly?”
“Ever since I’ve known him, he’s been hit on by other women. In high-school, he was quite literally, the first option for a lot of girls but he never paid attention to them. Same at uni: lots of beautiful women approach him and he acts like he doesn’t care about dating. And then, out of nowhere, he’s seeing…you.” You freeze on your spot and grab the handle of your bag. You feel embarrassed, attacked, even though you shouldn’t because you are not even dating Tsukishima, but still, he’s attacking you. “I just thought Tsukishima would, you know… I think that having some fun before settling for the first girl he talks to is a bit… of a waste.”
Kageyama’s tone was blunt, meant to one at your pride.
”He’s a good-looking guy, tall, interesting… I don’t know. You know what I mean, right?”
You raise an eyebrow at him. What is he even trying to say? You know for a fact Tsukishima is all of those things but… is he saying something because you may not be any of that? You start to think about it, about the clothes you are wearing, about your hair, the makeup, all the negative thoughts about yourself you thought were deeply hidden after all the work you had to do on yourself to finally feel like yourself again… Just a few words from a complete stranger and they were back.
You feel like your eyes start to sting but you shake your head slowly, looking at the floor as your hand goes to grab the handle of your bag, trying not to make him aware of the effect his words are having on you. 
”I… Of course.” You say. “You shouldn’t worry about him, weren’t you the one who told him to have some fun?” You look up at him, sending a smile his way. “We have a lot of fun together, but, if you’re that worried about him and his love life, maybe you should be the one taking him out on dates, right? You said it yourself: handsome, tall and interesting.”
Kageyama’s face twitched, scowl deepening.
”Anyway,” you waved at him. “I’ll let him know you’re looking out for him. Bye!” You turned, walking in a fast pace to your building.
“A waste.”
“The first girl he talks to.”
”Good-looking guy, tall, interesting… You know what I mean, right?”
He was just trying to get under you skin, you know that, but still, the comment stung. You weren’t like a supermodel and you probably didn’t have the best physique, you know that but… is that weird to see someone like Tsukishima with someone like… you? 
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You lie to Tsukishima when he texts you in the middle of the morning. He tells you that Tadashi has thought about inviting you and Yachi over for dinner but you lie to him and tell him you’re feeling a bit under the weather. 
You say that you’re sorry for missing dinner and hopes that they have fun without you and you feel sick at the thought of doing what you promised you wouldn’t do again: hide in your room.
You lie to Yachi when she comes home from class, saying that Tadashi has told her you are feeling sick and you tell her your stomach is acting up. You lie when you tell her you are not hungry and that you prefer to stay at home.
You lie to her again and send a smile her way before she leaves the apartment (“We’ll be right next door if you need us, are you sure you don’t want to come? Are you crying?”).
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The small apartment was quiet except for the occasional clink of chopsticks against ceramic dishes and the low hum of the heater working.
Yamaguchi, Tsukishima and Yachi sat around the low dining table, a simple dinner laid out between them: bowls of rice, miso soup and a plate of grilled alamon with vegetables in the middle.
Yamaguchi reached for the soy sauce, drizzling a bit over his salmon as he spoke.
“Maybe we should save a bit of food for (Y/N) if you want, Yachi.”
Yachi, sitting cross-legged next to him nodded. “That would be nice, thank you.”
Yamaguchi stared at Tsukishima as he picked up a vegetable.
“I saw Kageyama talking to her today.”
Tsukishima frowned, leaving his chopstick on the plate.
“Did you?”
“Yeah. It was close to the journalism building, I was grabbing a coffee from Shirato’s café.”
“Kageyama does not have classes over there.”
“I know, that’s why it was weird! And I don’t know, she seemed kinda off after, I don’t know, really. I don’t know her that well.”
Tsukishima clicked his tongue in annoyance and reached for his phone.
“what did kageyama say to you?”
“how do you know about it?”
“tadashi saw you talking to him. he’s not flirting with you, is he?”
“ew, no”
Tsukishima smiles softly.
“no need to worry, we just talked about how much we hate the other’s choice of drink”
Tsukishima sighs.
“okay, sorry, i didn’t mean to sound so… i don’t know, i didnt mean to overreact but he’s truly an idiot.”
Tsukishima sees the three dots pop in and out of the conversation but he types again.
“i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“ty tsukki.”
“how are u feeling?”
You don’t answer for the rest of the night.
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mangionebabymama · 11 hours ago
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can I just be honest, I’m sorry i like lulu but that shotgunning video always makes me cringee lool boyy you complaining about brain fog and then are smacking a hard aluminum can on your forehead ahdhheeh
again, I like him a lot so I usually just skip past that video because it’s just not it lool, and nothing against college culture, trust I’m a shots kinda gal but he literally smacks it up his face so many times loool what is going onnnn haha
See, this is the duality that I love so much about him, that I only know a fraction of it, and I’m sure there’s so much more to uncover: he’s valedictorian, an Ivy League alum, has extensive and expansive knowledge about computer science and programming, loves to read about nearly anything—
But he hits his forehead repeatedly with a beer can, despite though that he’s also mentioned about dealing with brain fog and how it’s affecting his grades in school and his overall concentration in class.
He’s so bright, and he’s definitely nowhere near of ever touching the allegations of being an idiot, but he’s acting a lil stupid here 😭 because shotgunning a beer can ain’t gonna clear your brain fog, babe!!!! We need to protect that cute little forehead of yours and all that noggin up in there
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lieslab · 2 days ago
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The warmth in me is you
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꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
Pairing: Changbin X gn reader
Summary: Your boyfriend decides to wake you up in the coldest way possible.
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1.4K
A/N: I'm sorry for not updating a ton lately. I took some time off of writing because I just finished writing my full-length Hyunjin fic a few days ago. This one is shorter, but I'm going to go back to writing a little longer stuff and your requests soon <3
_ _ _
Hyunjin disappeared two nights ago. Booking a trip to another country for a brand deal, Changbin had the dorm alone. At least, he did until he invited you over to spend the weekend with him. 
In the comfort of his room, the tranquility of the fan humming on low. He couldn’t sleep without the white noise. You hated the cold, but you put up with it for him and for him alone. When he pushed the blankets aside, you dove in head first. 
Tucking yourself beneath the tangled warmth, you basked in his presence; the scent of spiced herbs and something alluding to pine. After balling yourself into the blankets and scooting to get comfortable, you’d curl up next to his body. He’d grumble about your warmth, but you’d shush him. Insisting he enjoyed your sudden presence, he’d huff and roll his eyes, but he did. 
He wouldn’t admit it. He put up this fake act for far too long. On the outside, it looked like he wasn’t thrilled about your presence, but you knew he loved it deep down. Why else would he wrap his arm around your body and pull you closer? Warm or not, he loved the evenings just as much as you did. 
Before eight in the morning, he left you alone. Without his body, you tossed and turned in the bed. Your arms outstretched and your limbs spread in every direction. Whether it was on your stomach and turned diagonal on the king-sized bed or upside down, your body changed directions all the time. Unaware and sound asleep, your limbs had a mind of their own. 
Outside, winter weather clouded the skies. Today? A chance of flurries. You complained about it last night during the winter storm. Hours slipped by and as they did, more and more snow built up outside. 
A blanket of white covered the dead grass. Silent and large flakes drifted. The added gusts of wind sent it in every direction. People tucked in the safety of their vehicles struggled to see. Forecasters sent out warnings. Your phone vibrated every so often with new announcements. 
The entire time, you complained. The freezing cold air, dry nasal cavities, the chapped lips, you hated all of it. Winter wonderland left you grumpy and unhappy. Changbin tried to get you to enjoy bits and pieces of it, but it didn’t really work. 
Your hands and feet grew sensitive to the temperature as you aged. As silly as it sounded, you swore your body aged faster than others. In such cold weather, your joints ached and your back hurt. No matter how many layers you bundled up in, you couldn’t stay warm. Most days, you avoided the outdoors and wicked weather when you could. 
Changbin, on the other hand, found nostalgia in snow. It reminded him of being a kid again. Back when his mom forced him into a snowsuit, thick gloves, a protective hat, and a scarf. He chased after his older sister, nearly falling over the thick insulated neon pants built into his snowsuit. 
When he fell victim to his snow boots and tripped, he hit the snow hard.  Face first, he’d jerk upright with red cheeks and wide eyes. Snow dusted his eyebrows and clung to his eyelashes. His sister pointed and laughed. In the distance, his mother would tell him to get up and brush off the snow. Amusement laced her voice and she could never stop herself from pulling out the digital camera to capture the moments. 
Those memories sat back at home. Perched on his mother’s bookshelf, leather bound album-after-album sat with photos of the family. From elementary school days to high school graduation and beyond, his mother took photos of everything. 
Changbin disappeared outside to peek at the snow. It took him a few moments to shove open the front door. Last night, the wind pushed a large snow drift against it. When he pushed open the door, he gasped at all the snow before him. 
Clad in a black t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, a hand flew to his mouth. His head jerked back to the hall, the direction of his bedroom where you slept. His eyes went back to the snow. Part of him wanted to keep the peace, but mischief bumped at his hip. 
He finally slowly shut the door and worked quickly. He grabbed his winter boots and yours. Back in the bedroom, he wiggled your sleeping form into your winter boots and squirmed into his own. When you jerked awake, no doubt you’d be pissed off, but he couldn’t help it. 
You looked so cute when you grew upset. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips poked out. Your glare would be as cold as the winter weather, but he’d manage. Your forgiveness could be swayed with warm cuddles and soup. 
Sound asleep, you remained unaware of the icy horror awaiting you. As quietly as he could, Changbin scooped his burly arms beneath your warm body. Further and further, he took you from your warmth and headed outside. 
In the safety of the white weather, he stepped from the dorm, walked a few feet outside, picked the largest snowbank, and let go of your body. A cheesy grin filled his face, he held his breath, and then- 
“AH!” 
You shrieked and jerked upright. Cold snow soaked your pants and your t-shirt. Your legs kicked and your arms scrambled. Snow sat in every direction. Changbin’s mischievous giggle filled your ears from behind. 
Soaking through your skin, the cold weather hit your bones instantly. You scrambled to get up, arms flinging in every direction. The stinging snow painted you freezing. Your body jerked upright and you pushed yourself to unsteady feet. 
“Seo Changbin!” 
“Uh-oh.” 
“I’m going to kill you!” 
“Nuh-uh! You love me too much for that.” He cooed and pressed his thumb and index finger into a heart. Desperate aeygo shot your way, but it did nothing to settle the anger building in your bones. His cheeks poked out, his finger pressed against the side of his face. As cringy as it was, it softened your heart, but not today. 
His cuteness ended with a handful of splattered snow to his face. Between the sudden silence and shock, more laughter filled the air. He cried out and pawed at his face. The past and present collided. The difference between fifteen years flicked between boyhood and growing into a man. 
“That was mean!” 
“You started it!” 
He grabbed a fist full of snow and whirled it your way. You shrieked and dodged, falling into another pile of snow in the process. The quiet morning shattered with bickering and cries from cold snow. 
When the two of you finished antagonizing one another five minutes later, you couldn’t breathe. Your lungs ached and compressed from the cold. The warmth of your skin faded. Bright red discoloration smeared along your cheeks and the tip of your nose. Across from you, Changbin’s face matched. 
“I-” You sucked in a deep breath. “I give up. It’s t-too cold to continue and I-” 
“I can’t feel my fingers.” 
“Me neither.” 
“Let’s go!” He hurried over, grabbed your waist, and hauled you over his shoulders. You shrieked and he giggled again. No matter the time or the place, he loved to show off. 
Picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder with ease, it was his favorite thing to do. Showing off his strength felt so special to him. Not everyone could carry their significant other with ease. Usually, you’d beg for him to put you down, but today you didn’t. 
Your body fell over his shoulder, limp and defeated. The cold air frosts your lungs. Puffs of warm air drifted into the sky and blended into the snow. 
Back inside, he stomped his feet on the inside rug. Chunks of snow fell off his boots. As he kicked off his, you shoved your feet together and kicked yours off, too. Your boots hit the ground and bounced in two different directions. Once they were off, your head slumped over his shoulder. 
“I’m never going to be warm again,” you mumbled. 
“Oh, you poor thing. Binnie’s got you, don’t worry. We’re going to go take a hot shower. When we’re finished, I’ll make you hot chocolate.” 
“Can I cuddle you?” 
“If it’ll make you feel better, yeah.” 
“I’m going to crawl into your muscles and live there forever.” 
“Do not.” 
“You can’t stop me.” 
“I’ll throw you in the snow again.” 
“Seo Changbin!” 
“Hey, don’t test me!” 
The two of you bickered all the way to the shower; despite the freezing cold feeling lacing your body, he still made your heart feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.
| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |
Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght
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sturniololuvz · 10 hours ago
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Can you do a fic where the sister gets into a big fight with them and they say some really really really mean and hurtful things and she distances herself for weeks and they make up with a cute ending
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“Silent Echoes”
Sturniolos x sister
Warnings : none
Being the only sister to three loud, chaotic brothers—Nick, Matt, and Chris—was never easy, but Y/N loved them more than anything. They were her best friends, her protectors, her partners-in-crime. But sometimes, they could be the absolute worst.
It all started on a random Tuesday. Y/N had been feeling off all day—school had been stressful, she had a fight with her best friend, and she was just overwhelmed. When she got home, all she wanted was some peace.
Instead, she walked into the living room to find her brothers shouting over each other, fighting about something stupid as usual.
“Can you guys keep it down?” she muttered, tossing her bag on the floor.
“Relax, it’s not that deep,” Chris said, barely sparing her a glance.
“I’m serious,” she snapped. “I have a headache, and I just—can you all shut up for five minutes?”
Nick rolled his eyes. “God, you’re always complaining.”
“Yeah,” Matt added. “You act like everything revolves around you. Newsflash: it doesn’t.”
That stung. “Are you serious? I barely say anything compared to you guys!”
Chris scoffed. “Oh, please. You’re always in a mood. If you’re not whining, you’re mad at us for no reason. It’s exhausting.”
Y/N’s face burned. “Maybe I’m mad because you guys never take me seriously! You treat me like some annoying little kid—like I don’t matter!”
“Maybe if you weren’t so sensitive all the time, we wouldn’t have to,” Nick shot back. “God, no wonder nobody wants to be around you.”
Silence.
The words hit her like a slap. She felt her throat tighten, her heart drop. None of them realized how deeply they’d just hurt her.
Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to stay calm. “You know what?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am annoying. So I’ll stop bothering you.”
With that, she turned and walked out.
— ✩ —
She didn’t talk to them for days. Days turned into weeks.
At first, she thought they’d apologize immediately. But they didn’t. They carried on like nothing happened, and that hurt even more.
She stopped joining them for late-night drives. She ignored their texts. She started spending more time in her room, in the backyard, anywhere but near them. And the more time passed, the more they started to notice.
Nick missed her sarcastic comebacks. Matt missed her movie nights. Chris missed her stealing his hoodies even when she had her own. The house felt emptier without her laughter, without her voice adding to their usual chaos.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later, when she declined their invite to get ice cream—her favorite—that they realized just how badly they had messed up.
— ✩ —
One evening, Y/N was in her room when there was a knock at her door.
“Go away,” she muttered, expecting them to leave like they had the past few weeks.
But they didn’t. Instead, the door creaked open, and all three of them stood there, looking… guilty.
Chris held a stuffed bear in his hands, Nick had a pint of her favorite ice cream, and Matt was holding a blanket—her blanket.
“What are you doing?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We’re making it up to you,” Matt said softly.
She crossed her arms. “Took you long enough.”
Chris sighed. “We were stupid. Really, really stupid. And we didn’t realize how much we hurt you.”
“You do matter, Y/N,” Nick added. “More than anything. We were jerks, and I’m so sorry.”
Chris stepped forward, setting the bear on her bed. “We missed you. Like, a lot. The house is too quiet without you.”
Her heart softened. She wanted to stay mad. She wanted to make them suffer a little longer. But looking at their guilty faces, their awkward stances, and the way they were practically begging for her forgiveness… she sighed.
“You guys really suck at apologies,” she mumbled.
“But did it work?” Matt asked with a hopeful grin.
She rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah… it worked.”
The boys immediately tackled her into a hug, squishing her between them in the warmest, tightest embrace.
“Never shutting you out again,” Chris mumbled.
“Never saying anything that dumb again,” Nick added.
“You’re stuck with us forever, sorry,” Matt teased.
Y/N laughed, feeling the weight of the past few weeks lift off her shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. I love you guys too.”
And just like that, the Sturniolo triplets and their sister were whole again.
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w0rmss · 2 days ago
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Hi hi!!
I'm wondering if you could do something domestic with Jason and an anxious! or maybe something to do with stress baking? I'd really like if it were mostly fluff but ultimately it's dealer's choice.
Have a great Day/Afternoon/Evening/Night!!!
Thank you for the request i did two one with just general anxiety and one including the stress baking hope you enjoy.
(The anxiety is heavily influenced by my own just waning)
tw anxiety panic attacks/ anxiety attacks stress baking.
Work was stressful right now and your shared apartment with your boyfriend Jason was a mess. Everything was just getting two much and your head was racing a million miles an hour. ‘you’ll never finish the project in time and pull get fired.’ ‘Jason will hate you for messing up the apartment while he’s gone.’ ‘Everything is a mess and it’s your fault.’ All these thoughts race through your head. You know they’re not true but your logical brain isn’t working and everything is too much. Your chest gets tight and your head spins. Your hands fidget with the cloth in them and you cant think straight. Everything is loud and you cant focus on your breathing no matter how hard you try.
Jason walks through the front door after a mission. He’d been gone for a few days and hoped you’d be fine without him. When he walked in he found you curled up hyperventilating on the couch. “Baby.” He dropped his bag and rushed over to you kneeling in front of you. “Hey hey it’s okay. Can i take your hands.” You let him take hold of your shakey hands. “Deep breath okay. In.” He takes a deep breath and you do the same. “And out.” You breathe out. “Again.” His voice is soft and loving his presence calming. He sits with you walking you through breathing exercises till you’ve calmed down and your breathing is normal and your head somewhat cleared.
Jason sits next to you with you curled into his side. “Wanna tell me what happened. I not it’s fine.” He asks finally breaking the silence. You sigh and curl into him further. “Everything got to much and the thoughts took over.” You fee silly, even if you know you shouldn’t you’d been working on this with both your therapist and Jason, yet you still let the thoughts take over. “Hey it’s okay. I know we talked about starving the thought gremlins but sometimes he’s extra hunger and wont stop. And thats okay too.” He rubs your hip lovingly. The thoughts are gone for now and all you focus on is being with Jason.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The whole place smells like bake goods when Jason gets up from his nap and the kitchen is covered in said good along with the ingredients and you. You stand backing in the middle of the small kitchen muttering about deadlines. Jason sighs. He’s been with you long enough to know when you get stressed you bake and then you dont stop because you’re so stressed. “Baby?” Jason walks further into the kitchen. “Mmm” you hum in respond not looking up from where you’re beating egg whites like they killed your dog. “How long have you been at this.” He asks picking up a cookie and taking a bite. “Not that I'm complaining i love your baking this is just a tad much no.” That gets your attention and you look around seeing the mess and the cookies cakes and croissants in the kitchen. “When did i make croissants.” You mumble realising you went a bit over bored. “Umm… some to the neighbours?” You smile sheepishly looking at the mess you made. Jason nods taking another bite from the cookie. “Good idea. I’ll help clean up.
It doesn’t take long for you both to clean up the kitchen and you give most of the baking to the kids in the complex. Finally you and Jason sit down together on the couch. “Next time you’re that stressed, tell me so you dont go that overboard again. I’m here to help baby. I love you.” He kisses your forehead. “I know im sorry works just ugh, I didn’t think it was that bad.” Jason reaches over and turns on the tv pulling you closer. “Love you Jay.” You smile. “Love you too baby”
Hope you enjoyed keep request i will get to them eventually. Thank you so much for all the likes on my stuff i really appreciate it and thank you so much.
also if you suffer from really bad stress or anxiety there are some great free resources online and on YouTube. Please stay safe and take care of your mental health guys it’s so important.
Have a wonderful day night afternoon etc ❤️
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Lais!! I'm SO sorry this took me such a long time to get to read!! It was totally my loss - because this was amazing! I've been wanting to read it since you posted it! 😩 But life has been ridiculous and I've been knocked tf out by Covid for about a week and a half!
I'm starting to do better, much less dizzy and feverish, so I can actually sit up and concentrate on a screen without feeling like I'm gonna pass out. 😞
Anyway, this story was definitely my treat for getting through Covid once again! It was amazing! And I absolutely loved it! Bunch of my rambling thoughts below. 😁❤️
The feeling of Dean’s warm, big hand around hers brought a sense of security she hadn’t felt in a while. Even if she didn’t know he was Sam’s brother, Dean would be a person she would trust immediately. He just had that aura.
He does just give that aura, I can't imagine anyone not being made to feel utterly safe with Dean nearby! 😍
She didn’t think she’d ever met someone as handsome as Sam’s brother. He looked like he came directly from the pages of a magazine, a Hollywood movie or something. In his jeans and a worn-out oversized leather jacket, he was simply stunning. She couldn’t help but avert his piercing gaze, feeling suddenly shy with the intensity of it.
I'm still not sure how anyone ever exists in a normal day-to-day existence with this man around! I think of all the things in the show that force the audience to suspend their belief, the idea that people can just continue to function normally with Dean right beside them is the hardest to swallow. 😁
“Ugh”, she complained, getting on her tiptoes so she could search inside a high cupboard, “I could’ve sworn those plates were somewhere in here”.
😄 I feel her short person's frustration.
“I said you’re nice, smart and handsome, but I forgot the most important part: you’re funny too!”, she exclaimed, playfully punching his arm.
A very important part of Dean's overall appeal actually. In the show people are always giving him looks to say like, 🙄 "That wasn't funny." or just being like 😒. But I always think he's funny! He doesn't get enough credit for his sense of humour! ❤️
...He texted me back ‘can’t make it, stuck at work’”, she chuckled, humorlessly. “The bastard didn’t even say he was sorry. So I paid him the same respect he paid me. I texted back, saying he shouldn’t bother showing up ever again, that I didn’t wanna see his face and it was all over between us. He never answered”, Maisie finished, taking a deep breath.
Hooray!! Way to go, Maisie! Though, I worry for her. I have a feeling he isn't going to accept that graciously! 😬
She stood on her tiptoes to reach his face, and Dean slid his hand to the small of her back, supporting her and bringing her close to his body, when- The sound of a loud honk startled them both, pulling them out of their lust haze.
I knew it!! If I didn't already hate him, I sure as hell hate him for interrupting that kiss!! 😡
“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me, bitch!”, he yelled, his grip making it impossible for her to free herself of his hold.
From "darling" to "bitch" in two seconds flat. What a friggin' charmer this guy is!! 😡
“I want this to happen, whatever this is, between you and me. I want… to get to know you. If you want to, that is. But I need to make sure it has nothing to do with Eric. With me being in need of comfort, or company, or about you protecting me from him - which I’m thankful for, by the way.
VERY smart thinking on her part, very logical. Yet, I fear that could never be me. 😄 I don't think I'd ever have the willpower. She's absolutely right though. Gotta be sure, don't wanna ruin something so perfect just cause she got the timing wrong. ❤️
He quickly recovered, placing a hand on her cheek, deepening the kiss a little and guiding her into it, sliding his lower lip over hers and lightly sucking it.
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“Yeah”, Sam let out a deep sigh and shook his head. “Eric broke in early in the morning, Maisie was still sleeping. He was drunk and screaming that they should get back together. She said no and told him to leave, so he started to lock all the doors and windows to stop her from escaping.
How completely terrifying!! 🥺🥺
She’d just been through a terrible trauma and, as a pro at avoiding feelings and acting like nothing wrong had happened, Dean knew exactly what she was doing.
I love him for that. ❤️❤️ It's exactly the kind of good man he is. But also - 😩 I feel for Maisie!! There's so much delicious tension here between them! It's so palpable! 🥵🥵
It also helped that I’m much taller than him”, he smirked, making Dean chuckle.
😄😄 Sam!! I love him!
“Take your shirt off, Dean”, she demanded, and he quickly obeyed. Maisie stared at him towering over her, his toned body looking godly under the dim lights of the room.
Oh my god!! That is the dream!! Dean Winchester mostly naked (okay, totally naked is better) and towering above me. 🥵🥵
“Tell me, Dean”, Maisie encouraged him, wanting to hear more of that deep, sexy voice of his saying dirty things to her.
Don't we all! Dean Winchester talking dirty is the hottest porn EVER!! 🥵🥵
Maisie was not happy with the fact that he didn’t look for Dean, and she had a suspicion that was the reason they fought.
You an me both, Mais! That was the only thing Sam ever did that TRULY pissed me off. I was very glad that he eventually admitted how wrong it had been and told Dean how sorry he was for it. Like, Dean, I forgave him, but I was SO mad!
I'm so interested to see how he's going to be with her!
“I- I love you too, Maisie. I didn’t realize how much until I couldn’t be with you”.
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Yes!!!!! They admitted it! I was so worried too much time was going to have passed, or he was going to be too different, or something. But I'm SO happy that he just needed to get home to her!! ❤️
Dean watches as Lily’s eyelids got heavier and heavier as he finishes the story. When she finally falls asleep, her little hand still holding his thumb tightly, he gently pushes her hair, as dark as her mom’s, out of her face. His movements are delicate, but she opens her big green eyes that look so much like his, and stares at him briefly, before falling asleep again.
Dean as a girl dad is my ultimate happy headcanon! I just think he'd be an amazing Dad, period - but to a little girl?!!! A little girl with dark hair and green eyes?!! I'm gone! 😍😍
“Just for two or three minutes. I arrived when you were telling her about how you fell in love with me from the first time you saw me”, she revealed, looking up at him and blushing.
Okay, I absolutely LOVE that he was telling Lily their love story! 😍🥹
Once she’s old enough, she’s gonna know how her dad went through hell and Purgatory, and how her mom was the reason he came back every time.
All. the. tears. 😭😭😭
Astounding!! This story was so sweet and full. I love all the details, I love the way their love is both immediate and blooming. Like, they know immediately that it's something special, but they both work hard to make sure the moment is right for them. Like, I said, I love that they neither of them wants to blow it by starting something so perfect before it's the perfect time for them too.
I'm so happy for their happy ending! I loved this, my friend! Again, I'm so sorry it took me SO long to have the chance to read it! Rest assured, I'll be reading it again!! ❤️❤️
Dean x OFC: Short and Sweet
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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.
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mashmouths · 2 days ago
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in the corner making eye contact with the baristas in the world's busiest cafe trying to telepathically tell them i'll order a drink once my friend gets here but she takes 57 minutes to respond on a good day and she had a "plant emergency" earlier so i have no idea when she'll get here even though we were supposed to meet here 16 minutes ago. in my docs.
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