#also not canon there’s no way he’d ever do this to those guys

[marooningmirrorball]

Splattered Coffee and Spare Blouses

A/n: hello lovelies! this is my first ever fanfic so please be kind to me when you read this 🫣 any sort of feedback will be appreciated🤞also there is no physical description of reader, that picture was just the first cute white blouse that i saw on pinterest. i hope you like it!

content: coworker!rafe x coworker!reader

content warnings: complete ooc rafe, like not even a little bit canon. jealous rafe. desperate reader and rafe. idiots in love fr. coworkers/office au (?)

word count: 1.2k words

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊ ₊˚༺☆༻

Rafe is too busy drinking in the sweet melody of your voice to catch the actual content of your conversation with Matt. Or is it Mark? Mason? It doesn’t matter what his name is, the only relevant thing about the guy is that he delivers the paper to the office, and Rafe knows they’re getting a paper restock when he hears the tee-heeing of your giggle aimed at something supposedly funny that Miles joked about as he stacks the reams of paper on the tall shelves behind your desk.

You don’t actually ‘tee-hee’, it’s more of a soft chortle. Rafe likes to think he knows the difference, he tries to bypass these dreary office hours by studying each laughter.

First he takes in the sound and how much it made his heart clench, then he looks at your expression; happy, shy, nervous, anxious (he’s even found the difference between those two!), angry. Lastly he takes in the context of the laugh.

It’s definitely a titter when your boss is reprimanding your newest co-worker with the frosted tips, it’s a hodgepodge of a shy-nervous giggle when your boss is reprimanding you, and it’s absolutely a guffaw when Rafe delivers a joke he’d been meticulously planning before he presents it to you.

It usually doesn’t matter what type of laugh it is, the soundwaves from it wrap his heart up and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until Rafe forces himself to leave the room, because it can’t be normal to feel this way about a girl you've only been working with for the last three months.

But this isn’t all those other times, it's that unusual time of the month. What could a man who delivers paper to a pool coverings company possibly say to make you let out that joyous sound? What does a pool company even need paper for? Rafe, running his pointer finger along the rim of his coffee mug, comes up blank when he starts to really think about the former rhetorical question, he’s not too sure he ever wants to interact with Mike that will allow him to find out.

Too late. The kerfuffle Rafe accidently caused due to clumsy hands and an even clumsier brain leaves his (luckily) empty mug toppled, but Rafe’s not so blessed when his fallen over mug lands on his pen, triggering it to leap from his desk and splatter into your (unluckily) full mug.

You spin around in your chair at the commotion of Rafe’s, “Shit!”.

Rafe thinks being shot in the big toe would be less painful than this. It’s a Grade A Disaster. All he can see is the deep brown liquid dispersed in sporadic splats all over your previously white blouse.

“Holy shit, are you alright?”, Marcus is pulling out his handkerchief, of course Paper guy carries a handkerchief, in record time, dabbing away at the marks that have the clear intention to find a permanent home on your work top.

Rafe isn’t given a chance to play hero, before Milo is badgering, “Man, why are you doing trick shots right now? Aren’t you a sales guy?”, Rafe; however, is too mortified to think about a snarky comeback as he instead spews out a stumbled apology.

“Y/N, I-I am so so sorry– tha-that really wasn’t on purpose! I-I can–I will replace your shirt after work, I’m so sorry!”, it all comes out jumbled and untidy. A red-faced Rafe runs a hand down his face in exasperation before he’s suddenly up and grabbing at the fallen dishware, “Let me just-let me go get you some paper tow-”

You put an end to his unnecessary apologies with a gentle touch to his right hand that possesses the culprit. Rafe thinks his heart actually stopped.

The grin you bless him with manages to calm him down, “Rafe, you're okay! Don’t stress about it–really. It’s an old blouse anyway.”

And…what?

Rafe just managed to completely demolish your clothes, yet it’s you who is showing him kindness in this weak moment, “Look, if you’re really bummed out about it and want to reimburse me, I do need to go to the mall after this so…”, you drag out and let him fill in the blanks.

So did the mug actually fall onto Rafe’s head? Did he fall into a state of unconsciousness and wake up in a dream land? This can’t be real.

The scoff and retreat of Marcello’s boots snap him out of his thoughts, this is his life. This is his life and he has been staring at you in disbelief for too many silent seconds because you quickly begin to slip the offer out of his hands, “Uhh–well you don’t really have to join me to shop, I just thought since-”, now you're interrupted by Rafe’s reassurances,

“No! Wait–I mean yes! Erm I don’t actually know what I’m meaning to say”, you think the blush sporting his face has got to be the cutest thing you’ve possibly ever seen as he carries on, “I would love to come with you, please!” Jesus, he thinks, try sounding more desperate, he quickly corrects himself.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be cool if I join along. I-If you don’t mind obviously…” he trails off, unsure and not wanting to impose, despite you literally just inviting him.

The shyness is evident in your voice when you softly say, “No, it would absolutely be fun if you came with”, God, you think, why did I add absolutely in there, he’s gonna think I’m desperate.

“Okay cool.”

“Cool.”

Henry, your coworker with the frosted tips, stands at the corner of Rafe’s desk with his arms crossed, “Can I get some paper or do I need to wait another five minutes until your flirting is done?”

The both of you cower slightly in embarrassment at his teasing, but don’t let it dim the bright smiles adorning your faces. Rafe is sure that there’s nothing in this moment that could, he just scored a hang out with the female coworker that he’s been crushing on for weeks now! Not even the sight of smug Martin could kick him off this high right now.

Your too-old desk chair groans as you stand from it, and suddenly Rafe’s worried that Henry’s comment may have bothered you, “Where are you going?”, his rushed tone causes a giggle to escape you,

“My top is still soaked Rafe”, you gesture to the stained garment with a laugh, “I’m just gonna fetch the spare in my car. What? Do you want to walk with me there too?” Rafe misses the joking lilt of your voice because he’s up and walking towards the reception before you can stop him.

When the two of you return from your car, you with a clean (albeit slightly wrinkled from sitting in your ‘just in case’ bag) blouse on and Rafe with a bashful expression, Henry wiggles his eyebrows at the pair of you, implying something out of nothing. You both ignore it and get back to your work, not without the two of you sneaking glances at each other when you know the other isn’t looking.

Long forgotten are Max’s bad jokes and flirting, Henry’s annoying teasing, and this afternoon’s coffee disaster as you and Rafe walk side by side in the mall, he doesn’t think life can get better than this.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊ ₊˚༺☆༻

[heavenbarnes]

under no circumstances did your simon want anyone from work knowing you existed.

far as the 141 (or anyone vaguely military) were concerned, simon was single.

when johnny tried to play matchmaker, he just assumed simon was guarded. when gaz harped on about this girl from his gym, he just assumed she wasn’t his type.

the boys lived with illusions of simon returning to an empty, sterile, sad excuse for a home. hardly a home, probably a shoebox of an apartment with the bare basics of furniture.

maybe a rhythmic drip of a faucet to keep him company.

never even an inkling of an idea that he might be coming home to you.

you who kept the home clean, but lived in- warm and loved in. soft things at every corner, soft bed you both slept in, soft couch for him to hold you on. doesn’t smell sterile, smells nice, smells like-

well, you.

it wasn’t shame, embarrassment- if he could, he’d tell any poor sod who’d listen just how much he adored you.

simon thought himself the luckiest fucker alive for even knowing you, let alone loving you. he’d die a thousand lonely times if he did anything to lose you.

safety.

“this job doesn’t lend itself to lovers” price’s voice had rung loud in his head.

he knew his captain was right, he trusted his word more than he trusted his own mind. but his captain hadn’t met you yet.

he hadn’t seen that look you could give him, fluttering lashes and a hazy smile. he hadn’t felt the way you held him, when the days were long and his actions were unforgivable.

he didn’t know that you’d forgive every terrible thing simon had ever done, without a second thought.

you weren’t just a lover, you were the start and end of it all. his big bang.

nobody was ever supposed to know you existed.

simon had been so careful, so fucking careful- he’d suffered days and nights keeping your existence secret. it still wasn’t enough.

it wasn’t johnny’s fault, he didn’t blame johnny but that was one person who knew you in the greater context of “ghost.”

one too many.

“d’ya know L.T’s got a pretty thing at home?”

gaz had laughed, laying another card on the table as he did it.

“and who’d that be? her majesty the queen?”

price even snorted a chuckle out his nose, surveying the hand he was sure to play.

“wouldn’t give me a name, all he’d give me w’sweetheart”

“simon’s got a sweetheart named sweetheart? yeah, and i’ve got a chance at beating the captain”

sweetheart.

security measure two, when the first fails. no names, an alias that was easy to remember. no slip ups.

thankfully, everyone thought johnny had been chatting shit (as he often did) and didn’t care to push further.

but rumours only grow.

simon felt like he was living his life checking around corners. he was used to it at work, but when he was home he was meant to be free.

he couldn’t breathe knowing you could be compromised- that there was a chance he could lose you when he feels like he only just found you.

and when you were finally compromised? hell hath no fury.

there was only one option, they wouldn’t stop hunting you. they knew you were the only thing simon was scared to lose. to him, there was no other way.

price’s hands might’ve shook as he placed the folded flag in your hands, royal blue and silken. returning his mask to its rightful home, skull plate staring back at you.

where his eyes should be.

“if there is anything we can do”

all you could do was a blank stare right through him- show no emotion, show no fear. simon’s words were banging around your head.

that unmistakable feeling of eyes on your back as you retreated, carrying what was left of “ghost” back to your home. to your bed, military corners still tucked perfectly.

gently laying the flag to rest, running the mask through your fingers. what could a ghost really feel like?

bringing it to your lips, pressing a sweet kiss to its centre- where you usually might, before you’d send him off to fight for his country, always assuming he’d come home.

he’d been so careful, it wasn’t enough, everything had changed.

he had to change.

he let you pull the mask over his face, tracing the shape of the skull under a gentle finger tip. standing on your toes to press a kiss-

right between the eyes.

“something isn’t right, he kept this secret damn near the whole time we knew him- he dies and suddenly it all falls in our laps?”

gaz and johnny tailing price as he tore through the base, your file tucked under his arm. thin wee thing that it was, barely enough to piece together an idea.

might as well be chasing ghosts.

“simon sacrificed his life to keep that one safe, why the fuck would he let the details out? when he’s not alive to protect-“

the door was nearly off its hinges with the three men bursting through, putting the fear right through the wee thing at the desk.

“where are simon riley’s ashes?”

“oh, i’m sorry- they’ve already been claimed”

“who? by who?”

whilst the poor girl was gingerly sliding the record towards price, johnny was letting himself into the back room. a space that’d once contained simon’s urn, empty spare the twisted plastic full of fine grey dust.

“cap’n, you’re gonna’ want t’see this”

gaz was nearly vaulting the counter, snatching the ashes out of johnny’s trembling hand.

men with precision aim reduced to a murmur.

“who the fuck did we cremate?”

both men looking to their captain for- for what? help? a fucking clue as to what they’ve really got themselves into?

no use.

price was running a finger down the log book, settling on the name “simon ‘ghost’ riley.” signed out within the hour, only thing left being some poor fucker’s ashes and a set of initials.

signed out by S.H

S.H

sweetheart.

[chevroletdean]

mirror sex [dean winchester] ── ✮⋆˙

kinktober 2024

ship: dean x afab!fem!reader genre: smut, angst to note/warnings: explicit – minors dni, established relationship, hunt almost gone wrong, canon-level violence, patching/stitching up wounds, dean’s self loathing tendencies, hurt/comfort, little bit of praise kink, fingering, porn with plot word count: 3.6k a/n: three days until halloween and i feel like i’m way behind on kinktober. i might just try to get to some of these during november as well, my apologies. also, the cat’s out of the bag: i’m a sucker for angst. i’m curious what you guys enjoy to read/write the most, are you more into fluff, smut, or angst?

Dean’s harsh on himself. Always. You knew that even before you started dating him. It’s how he grew up, after all. From a young age it’s been drilled into him by John; that he has to be tough and strong, that he isn’t allowed to think before he acts, that certain things have to be done – even when these things are ugly. Even when they turn other things ugly. Things like the sight of his hands afterwards. Things like his whole reflection, honestly.

It’s days like these where he enters autopilot, in a poor attempt of resorting to a self-defense mechanism. He can’t stand the reflection in the mirror, so he simply doesn’t look. He wouldn’t like what he sees, so he avoids it altogether, if he can.

Saving people, hunting things, the family business – killing monsters always sounds so heroic until you realize your decisions are cut-and-dry to the cruelest degree, until the soap can only scrub clean the red from your hands but not the guilt that still sticks to your skin, and until you begin to wonder who the actual monster is.

Dean’s harsh on himself in that he blames himself for everything. It’s all his responsibility, the weight of the world always on his shoulders.

Hunts go wrong. It’s part of the job, but that thought isn’t as comforting as it should be, because it doesn’t change anything and it doesn’t take away any of the gravity.

Dean and you had been tracking down this pack of aggressive werewolves. The job had sounded so easy, everything had been so straight-forward. Until you two realized that the town’s sheriff was in on it, and ultimately, so was his son. Partially, at least. Just a kid, barely twenty-one – about the age when Sam hit the library, when he should’ve hit on cute girls on campus, around the age of frat parties with beer-pong cups and hangovers.

A guy who had his whole life ahead of him, but had it snuffed out by a silver bullet to his chest. (or rather, by Dean’s finger pulling that trigger, if you’d ask Dean how it went down, because he sees no point in distancing himself from the narrative when it was his doing). Not because that kid wanted any of it. Hell, as Dean and you had been investigating the case, you came to realize all that boy wanted was a peaceful life. And you knew it was possible, some werewolves were able to build up normalcy without killing anybody, picket-fence and all, more so than your average hunter, sometimes.

But you had shot the sheriff, given that he’d been systematically kidnapping his victims throughout the years. And upon witnessing the silver piercing through his father’s chest, the student went downright feral. He attacked you and jumping you, going for a bite that never landed, was the last thing he ever did.

“You had to shoot him,” you told Dean in the car, just like he predicted you would.

“I know,” came Dean’s reply and those were the only words during the whole ride, just like you predicted they’d be.

Even upon arrival back at the bunker, he remains silent. The loudest noises are just his footsteps, which are heavier than usual as he drags you to your shared room, and ultimately the slam of the bathroom door that he shuts behind the two of you.

“Sit,” he says, voice laced with anger that you know he only directs at himself, and nudges you to the edge of the bathtub. You know better than to argue with him and despite the fact that there’s a nasty gash on his shoulder, you let him clean the minor scratch above your eyebrow first. You must’ve hit your head back when the werewolf slammed you against a shelf, but you’ve definitely had worse. But Dean puts others before himself and your wellbeing is always his priority.

Yet, his ministrations aren’t exactly gentle. He dabs the rubbing alcohol to your cut brow without any regard for the way you wince slightly. His eyes don’t meet yours as he shoves his hand into the cupboard and impatiently fishes for bandages. His jaw is clenched tightly as he patches you up with a bandaid.

He’s in his own head, clearly – or trying to keep those spiraling thoughts at bay within his self-critical mind. Those what ifs and should’ve dones would kill him otherwise.

You can only watch as he straightens his back, turns around, takes a step towards the sink opposite to the bathtub, slams the cabinet shut again, and keeps his gaze purposefully low. His eyes remain glued to his hands as he washes them, as if he doesn’t dare to lift his chin.

“Let me help you with your shoulder,” you mumble softly and he almost can’t hear you over the running water and the running thoughts. It’s your gentle touch that makes him snap out of it, but even as he raises his head at last, his eyes only land on the reflection of you. Your face peeks out over his shoulder, one of your arms wrapped around his middle, the other hand ghosting over his blood-soaked sleeve.

“No need, ‘m fine,” he grumbles, stubborn as ever. But as he turns off the faucet, the movement reminds him of the sharp ache and the dull throb in his arm. Just the graze of the sheriff’s bullet. He knows he got lucky, but he also can’t bring himself to care about any of that with every other dreadful aspect of today.

“A couple of inches away from death doesn’t fit my definition of fine, Dean.”

He can’t argue with that, it would be hypocritical. A droplet of blood on your forehead is enough to make him worry and who is he to deny you your concerns when he’s been injured too? Besides, he knows you can see right through him. Physical injuries are one thing, but the emotional damage often runs deeper than any blade or gun could.

Though his muscles are stiff, Dean doesn’t resist as you slowly peel off his flannel. His eyes are still fixated on you. He can’t bring himself to look at the wound himself, much less let his gaze drift anywhere close to his own reflection right now.

Your movements are mesmerizing enough to keep him distracted anyway.

You reach around him to turn the faucet back on and you grab a washcloth. You tie your messy hair back and out of the way and you carefully roll up the short sleeve of his shirt. You dampen the cloth and wipe the blood from his arm. Once you disinfect the wound, he ultimately looks away. Not because of the sting of the rubbing alcohol, but because of the pain he recognizes in your eyes. Your brows knit together and you frown slightly, sighing to yourself.

He can’t bear watching you pity or fuss over him when part of him feels like he deserves this.

“C’mon, ’s not even that bad, sweetheart,” he grumbles, but his voice is strained.

Your movements come to a halt as you blink up at the mirror, expecting to see his green eyes look back at you through the reflection. But Dean’s head hangs low again and his hands grip onto the edge of the sink he’s staring into.

“I’m glad it’s not,” you hum, but you still grab ahold of his hands and pull him away from the sink. “Sit.”

When you say that word, it sounds a thousand times softer than when he did. You know he hadn’t huffed it at you earlier, but rather didn’t bother concealing his bad mood. Still, his annoyances aren’t directed at you, so he makes an effort to pull you closer gently, in apologetic fashion. His hands settle on your hips as he sits down on the edge of the tub. You’re standing between his legs, surgical thread and needle in your hand.

“Lift your arms f’me, babe?”

When Dean follows your instructions without a witty remark about how eager you are to get him to strip, you know the self loathing is bad. You help him peel off his shirt, tossing it straight into the laundry basket. Luckily there aren’t any other major injuries, though you suspect a couple of bruises will bloom by tomorrow.

His hands go back to your hips, as if he’s able to steady and ground himself by holding you, to which you have no complaints. As long as he’ll let you stitch him up, you even let his bolder touches slide. You’re so focused on closing up the wound that you barely react to his fingers curling around the back of your thighs.

With this position, Dean’s practically forced to face the mirror again. It’s right behind you and with the way you’re half bent over, leaning down to his arm, the view is without obstruction. But his attention is fixated on the jeans-cladded plush in his palms. His hands wander higher, fingers splaying out over your curves. He gives your ass a gentle squeeze to which your breath hitches.

“Careful, unless you want to end up looking like Frankenstein’s monster,” you chuckle playfully, relieved that he’s in high enough spirits for teasing touches.

“Since when are you not into the scarred badass guys?”

“Touché,” you smile in response, “Although I prefer them in a confident mood.”

He groans, knowing where this is going, but he decides to play along. “What d’ya mean?”

Your smile curls into a smug grin as you shrug. “I mean,” you sigh and finish the last stitch, securing the thread into a knot and setting the needle aside. “Scarred, badass guys are even hotter when they know that they’re strong,” you continue, before you plant a kiss to his forehead, “that they’re brave…” Another kiss, to his nose this time.

A quiet growl escapes him as he instinctively tightens his grip on your ass. You know he doesn’t fully believe your words, but you’re adamant about convincing him, so you continue with your list: “…heroic.” More kisses, this time a chaste one directly to his lips, though Dean scoffs and pulls away almost immediately.

“Yeah, right,” he scowls. “Nothing screams hero more than murdering someone.”

“You saved me tonight,” you argue back, whilst gently cupping his face. “You’re definitely my hero.”

His gaze wanders from your lips up to your eyes, seeing nothing but gratitude and adoration in them. Both of which he feels undeserving of. Dean Winchester isn’t half the hero you think he is, he’s all kinds of screwed and his fucked up life consists of violence and regret most of the time. Yet you always look at him as if there’s something worth looking at. Even when he can’t see it himself.

“Just doing my job,” he replies and his voice feels thick and wrong on his own tongue.

“No,” you huff, your thumbs tracing the sharp edge of his jaw, the scruff grazing against the pads of your fingers. “It’s not your job to look after me, or to fight evil. But you’re damn good at it and you do it to make the world a better place. Just like you did today.”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow at your words, since he’s not exactly sure how shortening the lifespan of a young man can possibly add any plus points to his karma. But he understands where you’re coming from, even if he can’t accept it fully just yet. He doesn’t regret pulling the trigger either, he’d do it again – in a heartbeat – if it meant keeping you alive. In that regard, what he did was the right thing, but that didn’t mean it was an easy thing.

“You did what you had to do, babe,” you sigh, tilting his face up a little again before he could avert his gaze once more.

You’d tell him that he shouldn’t beat himself up over it, but that would be like talking to a wall. Your reasoning tends to reach him better than the loving reassurances, even though you both know you’re right. Maybe that boy didn’t deserve to die, werewolf or not, but in that moment it was either him or you.

Your lips land on him once more, this time on his jaw, before they wander down the hollow of his throat. Dean welcomes the sensation of your mouth on his neck, your teeth against his collarbones. Your hands on his chest, warm and soft and eager. So eager to make him feel good, to prove to him his own worth.

Your fingers are always enough to make his walls crumble. The sweet nothings you whisper to his ear always suffice. It might not heal him entirely, but his doubts are soothed for the moment whenever you need him. Whenever you give him what he needs. Whenever you love him.

Your hands reach the waistband of his denim pants, against which his cock is already beginning to strain. Once your touch ghosts over the prominent bulge, he snaps and indulges. In one swift movement, he stands up, his hands still tight on your hips as he picks you up and carries you to the sink. Within a second you find yourself positioned on the bathroom counter, your back nearly bumping against the mirror behind you and your legs draped around Dean’s waist. You’d complain about how he should be careful, lest he wants the fresh stitches to rip open, but your protest dies on Dean’s tongue, which he has already slipped past your lips.

Dean kisses you hard and with purpose, as if wanting to repay your praises. Where your mouth works its magic through words, he has always known different ways to use his. Always a man of actions, your boyfriend. His lips wander down your neck, making you gasp in delight.

He grunts, dizzy with the taste of you, your scent, your voice. You’re so soft under his calloused hands that he’s reminded once more of how close he was to losing you tonight. His impatient hands pull your shirt up over your chest, where his lips latch onto. He doesn’t even bother pulling it over your head fully, eager to search your heartbeat with his tongue, as if he’s able to taste that you’re still alive that way.

While you’re busy discarding your shirt properly, Dean’s mouth finds your nipple through the lace of your bra. You arch your back into his touch further, his name falling from your lips in a whimper that almost has his brain short-circuit.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gruffs and pulls you off the counter, turning you in his arms so you’d face the mirror. His low voice is gravelly and half muffled by the column of your neck, which he still works some hickeys into. “Always treating me like some kind of hero when you’re the one keeping me alive and sane.”

His bare chest is pressed flush against your back and your hips are lodged against the edge of the sink, to which your shaky fingers grip so tightly that your knuckles turn white. You whimper again, softly, as you feel him rock his hips against your ass. Were it not for his large hands around you, one on your waist, the other cupping your breast, your knees would give out and you’d topple over.

Dean shoves a little harsher, his chest still flat against your back as he pushes you closer to the mirror. It’s fogging up slightly with how heavily you’re panting against the glass. Your eyes meet through the reflection and he finds himself not minding the mirror so long as you’re in the picture as well.

The bandaid that used to roughly match your skin color earlier now sticks out against your flushed face, red and warm all the way down to your neck and even your chest. Your lips are kiss-bitten, puffy and slightly parted as your ragged breath is interrupted by little mewls and whines.

Most days Dean’s looks in the mirror and hates what he sees. But he could get used to this view. At least he can appreciate the sight of his own hands on you, one around your throat, the other between your thighs, making you unravel, being held by yours as you reach for his wrists.

“Maybe scratch the sane part, you know you’re driving me crazy,” he revises his earlier statement as his deft fingers make quick work of your jean’s button and fly. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and you shudder as he watches every small reaction of yours closely, like a hawk.

He shoves his hand straight into your underwear, satisfied when his fingers find your slick and his ears pick up on the meek moan. He’s barely even touched you yet, but you’re already soaking. You’re so damn responsive it almost makes him want to rip both your pants off and just take you until you’ll see stars. While patience is a virtue, it’s not Dean’s strong suit – yet he wants to take his time with you.

“Always taking such good care of me,” he whispers roughly, gently pinching your clit between his middle and ring finger. “My turn making my girl feel good.”

Using your previous methods on you now, he presses a soft kiss to your temple. His lips brush right against the edge of your bandaid. “My pretty girl,” he breathes, before his mouth wanders to your cheek, where he places another kiss.

“My smart girl, always using her pretty head to keep us alive.” God knows his words are true – your quick thinking and ability to stay level headed has saved the both of you out of dangerous situations more times than he can count.

One of his fingertips slips past your entrance, causing you to overhear whatever he adds to the list of compliments. You’re too distracted by the digit sinking deeper into your cunt with little resistance.

Your blush deepens further, fingers curling around the sink’s ceramic. Your eyelashes flutter and your eyes threaten to close, but Dean prevents your head from dropping low with a gentle nudge of his hand. His fingers tighten around your throat, firm enough to make you redirect your focus, but not enough to squeeze your windpipes, let alone hurt you in any way.

“Eyes on the mirror, doll,” he hums against your jaw. “Would be a shame if you were t’miss out on the show, huh? Look how pretty you are f’me, princess, all sensitive and needy.”

You squirm and whimper, struggling to follow his order with how he’s making your head spin. He’s not playing fair. How’re you supposed to focus on anything except him adding another finger to pump in and out of your cunt?

“Dean, please,” you moan, desperately trying to wiggle your hips. You aren’t even sure what it is you’re begging for, exactly. More of him. All of him. Not like you can’t already feel him throb against the curve of your ass.

“Wanna see you cum on my fingers first, baby,” he mumbles, nearly slurring over his own words. But the hand around your throat loosens its grip and he already moves it down to pull your pants lower. “Know you’re almost there, can feel you squeezing the shit out of my fingers.”

You half groan half sob, beyond flustered, but too far gone to argue back. Your legs are already shaking thanks to his fingers thrusting in and out of you and your breathing becomes more ragged with each intake of oxygen. You attempt to throw him a pleading glance through the mirror, but all you can see is your own messy state. Your gaze briefly flickers down, watching his thumb circle your clit in the reflection. However, your eyes are forced back up as Dean’s free hand winds up in your hair and pulls your head back until it’s settled against his uninjured shoulder.

“Eyes up here,” he quips and you’d want to wipe that smug smirk off his lips, were it not for his fingers curling inside of you and pushing you over the edge at last. Your mouth falls open and you cry out as liquid heat rushes through every fiber of your body. You see your own reflection, expression twisted into pleasure and bliss as your orgasm washes over you and you clamp down on Dean’s fingers. Your grip tightens around his wrist, which doesn’t stop him from guiding you through the ecstasy.

“So good for me,” Dean praises, or you think that’s what you hear in your hazy state. You’re still trying to catch your breath as he withdraws his hands from between your now sticky thighs. He brings it up to his mouth, giving his fingers a brief lick. You shudder in awe watching him. His pupils are blown wide, glistening tongue peeking out from those plump lips of his.

But he changes his mind at the last second.

“Not done with you yet, sweetheart,” he whispers and presses his fingers against your lips. You obediently open your mouth for him, welcoming his fingers in, though you flush more as you taste yourself on his skin.

Your walls flutter and clench around nothing just at that, but you have a feeling he’s about to do something about the empty feeling. He smirks knowingly, his cheek pressed against yours, your faces in the mirror side by side.

“Think I should show you how pretty you look taking my cock? I swear, it feels unfair that I’m always the only one who gets to enjoy the show.”

credit & links: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment a green heart 💚 to be added to the dean x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts)

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[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag III (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: attempted NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

~

Your brief conversation with JJ Maybank was still on your mind weeks later.

It was so funny to think that you hadn’t actually done anything wrong in the grand scheme of things, but if Rafe ever found out… The thought made you shudder, gaze focused on the pool water as the man himself laughed behind you with Kelce about something. You’d been doing so good lately. Aside from that awful night after the movies, Rafe hardly touched you.

It was a far cry from three months prior.

You still winced when you thought about his fist coming down across your face, voice loud in your ear as he screamed at you. Weeks had been spent holed up in your bedroom under the guise of being sick, and it was a miracle your parents hadn’t forced you to take some tests with how often you’d been ‘sick’ in the past six months alone. You lightly sighed, reaching up to touch your chin and just relieved it didn’t feel sore anymore.

Thoughts of that conversation with JJ instilled fear in you. Even just thinking about it made you tense up, but at the same time, it also caused irritation to bubble up inside of you. JJ Maybank was just so… You pursed your lips, taking a page out of Rafe’s book and opting to label him as ‘a little shit’. Rafe was so far from some saint, but it was plain to see that JJ enjoyed provoking your boyfriend.

However, it wasn’t JJ’s fault that Rafe took that out on you.

If you had a normal non-violent boyfriend, he’d simply ignore the other blond, or at the worst, he’d just fight him. Not you. How was JJ to know that Rafe’s jealousy would result in black eyes and swollen lips and sore wrists for you? Your eyes traced the clear blue water, a frown taking over as memories of that oh so brief conversation made you feel…warm.

It felt nice to talk to a guy and not have to worry about saying the wrong thing or making a questionable facial expression or just being so alert at all times. With Rafe, you could never relax, could never let your guard down, and you were convinced that you were going to start greying by the time you turned 30. With JJ…you didn’t have to overanalyze everything that came out of his mouth and your mouth too. You hadn’t felt the need to carefully watch his face for any sudden sign of a mood shift.

You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you felt like that.

…and that made you feel so guilty for some reason.

Rafe was your boyfriend. He wasn’t a very good one, but he was your boyfriend nonetheless, and despite the fact that it wasn’t, those few minutes in the hallway felt like…well…cheating. It was insane to say that because it wasn’t anything close to it, but you knew Rafe and what would upset him. You knew, and that’s why you were hiding it from him. It wasn’t like you were lying, but a lie of omission still counted, right?

You were pulled from your thoughts by the feel of familiar hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump out of habit, and Rafe only rubbed them in what you were sure was meant to be a soothing manner. When you looked over your shoulder, he was knelt behind you, that cheeky smile on his lips as he eyed you. Rafe knew the effect he had on you…and you swore he got off to it.

“It’s getting kind of late, so we’re heading inside,” he told you.

Rafe wasn’t telling you to be the considerate boyfriend who’s just letting you know he’s heading in. Rafe was telling you because he was going in and fully expected you to join him. It didn’t matter that you were relaxed with your feet in the water and your mind elsewhere, and so swallowing down a sigh, you let him pull you to your feet. His hand squeezed yours as he pulled you along, and out of habit, you rested your free hand on his arm.

“I think we’re gonna call it a night,” Rafe drawled to the other two men in the house.

Their initial response was chuckles, Topper eyeing you both as Kelce shook his head.

“Yeah, whatever you say, man, just wash my sheets in the morning, alright?”

Kelce’s chuckles only increased at that, and you felt heat rise to your face.

“Don’t be dicks,” your boyfriend called over his shoulder, and despite his words and his tone, there was a small grin on his face, and you only felt your chest ache.

Sex with Rafe was so complicated.

He absolutely terrified you, and so that didn’t make for the most comfortable of atmospheres whenever his lips were on yours. However, something innate in your body—call it animal instinct, conditioning, or merely self-preservation—reacted to him in ways you weren’t necessarily proud of whenever he got his hands on you.

…and Rafe always wanted to get his hands on you.

Rafe liked your fear, you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that, and you were sure he liked the sight of bruises on your skin even more. He liked seeing his mark, and no matter how temporary, you felt that it served as some brand to him. You recalled reading once that cattle weren’t branded to be considered a part of something but instead to show where they needed to be returned to if they got lost. Something had twisted deep in your gut at that.

…because you knew that if Rafe could, he’d brand you for all to see.

Brand you to show the world where you needed to be returned.

After your quick joint shower, Rafe wrapped the large towel around you both, holding you close as he walked you into the guest bedroom. You could briefly hear Kelce and Topper talking downstairs, making drinks no doubt as Rafe shut the door behind you. When his fingers danced along your sides, you couldn’t swallow down the startled giggle, involuntarily pressing yourself against the blond to get away from them.

“You’ve been so quiet all day,” he murmured, pressing his face into your neck as he tightened his arms around you.

Blinking, you weighed your response.

“I’ve just been in my head, I guess.”

Rafe was quiet for a moment before humming, and you both felt and heard him take a deep breath.

“You’ve been in your head for weeks then.”

You froze at that, it was only for half a second, but you were sure Rafe caught it. You didn’t like that your internal conflict was noticeable, and when you tried to pull away, Rafe only refused to let you go.

“What’s going on with you?”

The question came out whispered and gentle…but you knew better.

“Just…things. Family stuff mostly.”

The lie came easy, and you let your eyes close, telling yourself that this was no longer a lie of omission, but how could you tell Rafe that you’d been thinking about JJ Maybank? How could you tell him that you’d been lingering on a single interaction that made you feel miles better than the last year and a half of your relationship?

JJ had talked to you like a friend…like an equal, and you’d forgotten what that was like.

Everyone saw you as an extension of Rafe. His dad, his friends, and even your own parents sometimes. They were always wondering where Rafe was and what Rafe was up to, and you didn’t blame them. After all, in their eyes, Rafe was perfect. Your boyfriend was a dream come true as far as future sons-in-law went, and as far as they knew, Rafe treated you like a princess.

In their eyes, this was the man who rarely let you drive your own car because he’d rather chauffeur you around. Rafe was the boyfriend who was always bringing their daughter gifts and flowers and popping in to check on the whole family. They swooned at how often Rafe called you throughout the day when he was otherwise occupied. Rafe was more than deserving of you.

On the other side of things though…

Rafe drove you around so he’d know firsthand where you were, how long you’d be, and when you were leaving. He wanted complete control over your mobility. So many of those flowers and gifts were only given to you after a particularly nasty fight that resulted in a bleeding lip or bruised back. Rafe popped in to check on everyone…but also to make sure you were exactly where you said you were. He constantly called for the same reason.

To your parents he was a dream and to you…a nightmare.

“What family stuff?” Rafe scoffed, pulling you against him and nipping at your neck. “I don’t think I’ve even seen your parents argue.”

He laughed to himself about that, but you only pressed your lips together because you knew what was coming.

“Your family’s perfect.”

He murmured it against your skin, but the bitterness was heard loud and clear.

Rafe playfully threw you onto the bed, quickly joining you and settling himself on top of you. He pressed his lips against yours, humming into the kiss, and you sharply inhaled when you could feel him hard and throbbing against your thigh. When you shifted your leg, Rafe groaned.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad,” he whispered, kissing you again. “…and if it is…”

He adjusted himself, resting his forearms into the mattress beside your head. Rafe completely caged you in as he gazed into your eyes, running them over you and pulling his lip between his teeth. The tips of his fingers grazed the side of your face, and you swallowed.

“It’s nothing I can’t help you forget, right?”

He held your gaze, gently brushing his nose against yours, and reminding yourself that he wanted an answer, you nodded.

“Right,” you breathed.

You kissed him back when his lips pressed to yours again, and on instinct, you rested your hands on his lower back. His hips curved into yours, the tip of him brushing against you and making you sharply inhale. You felt Rafe smile into the kiss, and his lips traveled from your lips to your jaw and then eventually your neck. When Rafe nipped at the skin, you reached up to run your fingers through his hair.

Rafe was eager to be inside of you, and it was evident in the way he reached down between your legs, fingers rushing to brush over you. Your breath hitched at the feel, and you lifted your hips when he started to dip them into you. His lips were at your ear as he thrust his fingers into you, and your hips lifted again.

“You’re so tight, you know that?” he breathed, and you parted your legs more.

You were so afraid of Rafe, so afraid of him, but once he got his hands on you like this, he typically wasn’t hurting you. It’d been months since the last time he got angry enough to hold you down and force himself on you. In these moments though, you didn’t have to watch your every comment and observe his every move. When Rafe was kissing you and pushing his cock into you, it was one of the few times you could just be and not have to worry about setting him off.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned into your mouth, hips snapping against yours.

With every surge of them, you gasped, clinging to him in more ways than one as you arched your chest up into his. His hair was still damp from the shower, and you twisted your fingers into the wet locks. His teeth scraped over your skin and a low moan climbed out of his throat when you wrapped your legs around his waist.

The bed jostled from his movements, and when he snaked his arms around your waist, you reached down to hold onto them. The force in which he thrust into you was almost painful, but you were used to it, and it was something you’d grown to expect…welcome even. You had to if you wanted any semblance of happiness in this relationship—any brief moments of joy.

When Rafe pushed himself up to hover over you, your hands slid up his chest, and when his nose touched yours, you knew what he wanted. Lifting your head, you kissed him, and Rafe was ravenous in returning it. Every curve of his hips made your toes curl, and your nails clawed at the sheets when he fisted his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck.

He cursed into the kiss, and as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, your other hand pressed into his back, nails dragging along his skin. You knew it was nothing at all, but leaving your own mark or two made you feel just a little bit better. You came first, but Rafe fucked you through it, continuing to plunge his cock into you and making your legs shake.

The closer Rafe got, the sloppier his thrusts became…and the more forceful he became. When he wrapped a hand around your wrist, you didn’t protest, accepting the feel of him pinning your arm down against the bed. His free hand roughly dug into your hips and then your thigh—painfully so—and you could only half hiss and half moan in response. His hips slammed down against yours, and when Rafe came inside of you, he stilled against you, completely pinning you beneath him.

Despite the fact that you were on birth control, you never not had a brief moment of panic.

“I just like feeling all of you,” Rafe had said over a year ago. “…and neither one of us are sleeping with anyone else…right…?”

The thought of getting pregnant scared you probably more than anything. Despite the fact that you’d accepted your fate and the future that was your relationship with Rafe, getting pregnant by him seemed so final. It would be the final nail in the coffin, and the last thing you needed in your relationship with Rafe. You knew it would happen eventually, but something in you desperately hoped that Rafe would just be a little better. Even just a little.

You couldn’t imagine bringing a child into this world just to be abused.

When your boyfriend rolled off of you, he pulled you with him, resting your head on his heaving chest as you kept your gaze on the wall. Rafe’s fingers gently trailed up and down your back, and you’d just closed your eyes to try and find sleep when he spoke.

“You know that I love you…right?”

It felt out of place, and you frowned slightly but eventually nodded.

“I know,” you whispered back.

You felt his hand trace patterns up your back, fingers dancing along your skin before his hand curved around the back of your neck.

“I know that I hurt you sometimes,” he murmured, making you swallow. “…but… It doesn’t mean that I don’t…”

He trailed off, his words dying in the air, and your eyes watered as you stared at the wall.

“I know, Rafe.”

When his hand landed on your cheek, you lifted your head, looking up at him. He studied your face, blue eyes flickering between your own, and you watched the way his tongue darted between his lips.

“You know how I get sometimes.”

“Rafe, I know,” you hurried to reassure him, reaching for his arm. “I get it, okay?”

You were sitting up, now, looking down at him, and you watched him lick his lips again. His hand took yours, threading your fingers together, and you felt compelled to hold eye contact. Rafe slowly took a deep breath, and you watched his eyes narrow.

“I just don’t want you to ever think you don’t mean anything to me,” he quietly told you. “…because you do. You’re my world.”

His hand tightened on yours, almost painfully, and you swallowed. His blue gaze looked so lifeless—glazed over—and you swallowed again.

“If you left, you may as well have just…died.”

You eventually nodded when he held your gaze for a few moments more, and when he pulled you back down, he gave you a sweet kiss, hand resting on the back of your head when you laid down on his chest again. Your gaze didn’t leave the wall when he reached over to turn out the lamp.

You were waiting on Rafe’s order when you saw him again.

You felt a sense of déjà vu when he walked into The Wreck, blue eyes meeting yours and a small smile thrown your way. Only the last time this same scenario had played out, you’d smiled back, and Rafe had put a gun in your mouth for it. You shuddered to remember that day, and you turned away from JJ without another thought.

You were unsurprised—but disappointed—when he saddled up next to you.

“In some places—and I’m pretty sure Outer Banks is one of them—that’s considered rude.”

You only spared the blond a brief glance, sighing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied.

You heard him snort to himself, silence stretching between you for a moment before he eventually spoke again.

“Where’s your asshole boyfriend?”

You couldn’t help yourself, throwing him a scathing look at that, but the only response you got was a wider grin and one raised eyebrow. Ward had called Rafe the moment he parked, and signaling to you that it would take a minute, he’d waved you on ahead to get the food. That was what you told JJ, and you heard him whistle.

“He let you get it all by yourself? Wow, he’s really stepping up.”

His tone was light and mocking, but you merely fixed him with an unamused look.

It was only then did you realize just how close he was, and you couldn’t help but to swallow at his close proximity. Without thinking much of it, you inhaled and almost immediately regretted it. Rafe and all of his friends smelt so…sharp. They smelled like cologne and laundry detergent and the freshly cut manicured grass on the country club golf course. It was a scent you’d grown up around, a scent you were accustomed to.

JJ just smelled like fresh air.

The blond before you reminded you of the salt water at the beach and the woodsy scent of trees and fresh rain. JJ smelled warm and light, and it was a smell that made you want to just…relax. Realizing that your thoughts were heading into dangerous territory—again—you slightly moved away from him. He noticed.

“Jesus, you’d think it was you I fought on the beach.”

“What are you doing here?” you finally asked him, still staring straight ahead as you waited for your order.

“Well, not only is this place owned by my best friend’s family…” you nodded at that, having actually forgotten that. “…but like you, I also like to eat.”

You rolled your eyes, and you heard JJ chuckle to himself. You tapped your fingers against the counter, feeling his gaze on you no matter how much you ignored it. Rafe sounded irritated almost as soon as he answered the phone, so there was no doubt in your mind that he was going back and forth with Ward about something. For just a brief moment, you wished he was here just so you had a better excuse to ignore the man at your side.

“Rafe’s not here, you know,” he eventually said. “You don’t have to pretend like I don’t exist.”

“Clearly you don’t know my boyfriend as well as you’d like to think you do then,” you snorted. “…because I absolutely do.”

You were relieved when Mrs. Carrera brought out your food, and you felt it was obvious in the way your shoulders sagged. You thanked her, thinking to yourself that you couldn’t get away from JJ fast enough, stepping away just as Rafe stepped inside. Your heart only stuttered a little at the sight of him, but you covered it up with a smile.

“You ready to go?” you asked him, frowning a bit when he pecked you on the lips and proceeded to move past you.

“I want to get a drink,” he told you over his shoulder.

You watched him lean against the counter next to JJ as he talked to the other woman, and you couldn’t stop yourself from eyeing them—comparing them. Something about the sight of them together rubbed you the wrong way, and maybe it was because the last time they were in such close proximity it had ended in a brawl.

Or maybe it was because you’d talked to JJ when you knew you shouldn’t.

You watched JJ say something to your boyfriend, and Rafe’s smirk in response didn’t ease your worries. His arms were folded over the counter, and he turned his head ever so slightly to look at the other blond out of the corner of his eye. He said something—evidently something rude by the way JJ tensed—and to your disappointment, you watched Rafe pull a dollar out of his pocket before flicking it at JJ just as Mrs. Carrera returned with his drink.

“For your troubles, JJ,” you heard him say, a cruel grin on his lips. “Don’t go spending that all at once, now.”

You couldn’t stop your frown, but as Rafe neared you, something else caught your eye instead.

JJ was leaning over the counter, pointing at something towards the kitchen while Mrs. Carrera seemed to sigh in exasperation. His white t-shirt rode up a bit, and your gaze lingered on the discoloration on his side. The sight of it made your lips part, and your frown deepened the longer you stared at it. The sight of it was so familiar to you, and despite the fact that you knew Sarah’s friends didn’t lead the safest lifestyle, something in you wouldn’t let you believe that came from some dirt bike accident.

It was too perfect, too precise of a bruise…and you would know better than anyone.

When Rafe grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the restaurant, you forced yourself to pull your eyes away.

You didn’t want a repeat of the aftermath of the conversation in the hall, so the days that followed were spent trying to be as normal and as present as possible. However, you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to the sight of JJ’s skin at The Wreck. It wouldn’t leave you, and you didn’t need to be some professional psychiatrist to figure out why.

You didn’t know much about his home life, only that his dad kind of sucked from what you’d gathered from Sarah and Rafe and Rafe’s friends. However, you never had the desire to understand what that meant in full. Now, though… You couldn’t help wondering if it encompassed something more horrific than you’d imagined.

There were times when you wanted to ask Sarah about it, but it felt weird. JJ wasn’t your friend, wasn’t even close, so you didn’t think you had a right to his personal life. Especially something so deeply personal, and even weirder, you and Sarah weren’t friends. It just felt strange to go to her about something that didn’t involve you nor her but instead her friend who you were supposed to have no kind of interactions or connections with.

It was especially present on your mind when Sarah’s friends were in the house one day. You’d been in the kitchen when you heard the van pull into the yard, and you’d only smiled in response when Sarah and her friends greeted you.

“Is Rafe here?” she asked you while they all made their way towards the backyard. “John B. can’t find his Juul and now I’m positive that was what I saw Rafe tossing in the trash the other day.”

You frowned at her with a shake of your head.

“He’s running some errand for Ward, but he should be back any minute.”

The blonde girl huffed, mumbling a dejected thanks before making her way to the backyard. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring after them, debating with yourself before thinking better of it. As you made your way towards the stairs, your gaze passed over JJ who stood near the backdoor, his gaze already on you as you climbed the stairs. Ignoring him, you made yourself comfortable in Rafe’s room.

Sure enough, as you’d told Sarah, you heard the distinct sound of Rafe’s truck pulling into the yard not even an hour later. You paid it no mind, focused on your laptop screen as you finished up some lingering homework due in a few days. Distinctly, you could hear Sarah talking to Rafe as she made her annoyance with him clear, but aside from the brief penetration into your bubble, you didn’t give it any more thought.

You were so focused that you couldn’t even really note how long Rafe had been downstairs before finally joining you. You heard the bedroom door open and close, and you briefly glanced at him over your shoulder.

“How’d it go?” you asked him, eyes preoccupied once again.

Your boyfriend didn’t answer right away, but when he did, he was much closer than you anticipated. You hadn’t heard him move.

“Fine enough,” was his simple answer, and you only hummed when you felt his fingers kneading into your shoulders.

You both felt and heard him pull away, and you were forced from your own thoughts when the sound of music reached your ears from his speakers, familiar with Rafe’s Apple Music playlist. Frowning, you turned to look at him, feeling like your efforts to study were pretty obvious. However, your face fell a tad as your gaze connected with his.

Rafe leaned against his dresser, even gaze resting on you as he simply…stared. Nothing about his expression was readable, and that was your first clue that something was very very wrong. Telling yourself that it could wait, you closed your laptop, scooting to fully face him on the bed. His hands were pressed into the wood, and your boyfriend was so still as you two just stared at each other.

“What?” you finally asked, and despite the music, it wasn’t too loud enough to where he couldn’t hear you.

Again, Rafe remained quiet, but you knew that he heard you so your frown only deepened. Moving until your feet were touching the floor, you stared up at him, and even with no words being spoken, you felt something uneasy festering deep within your gut. It had been some months since you and Rafe had one of your big fights, but you knew the signs all too well, and your heart sank when he took a deep breath.

“You apologized to JJ on my behalf?”

You heard a ringing in your ears for a few seconds as his words lingered in the air, and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t look away from him. In this moment, you felt like prey, and you felt like it would be the stupidest thing in the world to take your eyes off of the man before you. Your lips parted as you struggled with what to say, and you eventually snapped them shut, struggling to find a way to talk your way out of this.

“I…”

“I already know the truth,” Rafe told you, tilting his head to the side. “I just want to hear it from you.”

Swallowing, you took a deep breath.

“I…felt bad,” you slowly told him, and you watched Rafe nod.

“You felt bad,” he repeated, pressing his tongue to his teeth and the inside of his cheek.

“Rafe-.”

“When did this conversation even happen?” he interrupted, frowning now. “I’m trying to understand when you and JJ Maybank have ever been around each other long enough to have a conversation where you’re apologizing to him for me.”

“Rafe, it lasted a minute at the most,” you quietly argued.

“Was this at The Wreck?”

You knew he was referring to days ago, and your mind ran rampant, trying to figure out if it was better to lie or not. You were already caught in a lie somewhat, and you really didn’t want to make this worse. You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of Rafe’s bitter laugh, and when you looked at him again, you could see that he was studying your face.

“Don’t think you can sit here and lie to me. When did this happen?” he repeated.

Exhaling, you blinked back tears.

“It was a few weeks ago,” you whispered, and you watched Rafe nod. “Sarah and her friends were going to the beach. JJ was in the bathroom, and I just ran into him in the hallway.”

When Rafe didn’t react, you continued, heart racing.

“Rafe, I just felt bad, that was all. I saw his face, and I felt bad, okay?”

Rafe leaned in a bit, hands and lower back still pressed against his dresser.

“Felt bad for what?” he spat, visage finally cracking. “He was the one bothering us, and I gave him what he was looking for.”

When you opened your mouth, Rafe cut you off.

“…and to make matters worse, you lied to me.”

Your brows furrowed at that, and you didn’t miss the way Rafe’s nostrils flared.

“Family bullshit, my ass. You knew you were wrong,” he threw at you, pointing at you. “See, you think I don’t know you…but I know you like the back of my hand.”

You lowered your gaze, unable to look him in the eye when he got like this.

“I knew something was wrong, and you lied to my face.”

You weren’t able to keep your tears from spilling over, and you wiped your face, looking up at him again. Your lips trembled while Rafe stared you down, and you were very aware of your throat and how tight it felt in this moment. You whispered his name, trying to get him to see that you hadn’t meant anything by it.

“I just felt bad,” you slowly told him again, voice quiet.

You wiped your face again, but fresh tears just replaced those, and Rafe studied the action. He leaned back some, looking down his nose at you, dirty blond hair curtained along his forehead. There was nothing warm or comforting about his gaze, malice stewing there as the corner of his lips curved upwards just a tad.

“Why are you crying?” he calmly asked. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

With a shaky breath, you pushed yourself to your feet, but Rafe had closed the distance in the same amount of time. You leaned away from him, a pleading look in your gaze.

“Do you…? Wh-what do you want me to say to him? How can I fix this?”

“Do you think I want you talking to him again? Do you really think that’s going to make me feel better, right now?”

You reached up to keep some distance between you two, but Rafe slapped your hands away. Your face was next, the action happening so fast that you only had time to gasp. You’d just touched your cheek when his hands were digging into your upper arms, violently shaking you.

“I just might do something a little impulsive if I saw you talking to him, right now, so trust me, you don’t want that,” he sneered.

“Rafe,” you gasped, grabbing one of his arms.

He only responded by grabbing that wrist, squeezing it and twisting it until you were forced to try and get him to let go. His face was so close to yours, nose brushing your cheek as his lip curled over your teeth.

“Do you know what that was like for me?” he wondered, forcing you back until you were cornered against the wall. “To have that Pogue throw it in my face that my own girlfriend went behind my back and apologized for what I did to him? For what he brought on himself?”

You pushed against his chest with your free hand, and Rafe only shoved you back, making you wince.

“I mean, have you lost your mind?” he wondered, fingers coming up to touch the side of his head. “Were you just thinking ‘God, what can I do to really piss Rafe off’?”

You were full on sobbing, now as you tried to push him away.

“Wait, no, you…you were thinking that I wouldn’t find out,” he chuckled, and you got no warning before he threw you to the floor.

Your sore wrist made it hard to push yourself up, and Rafe let his impatience show.

“Get up,” he barked at you. “Get the fuck up.”

Deciding he didn’t feel like waiting for you to do that, Rafe pulled you up by your hair, forcing you to cry out as you reached up to grab his hand. Your back was forced to arch as you tried your best to lean away from him, and when he shoved you into his dresser, a choked sound escaped you as pain flared in your stomach.

Rafe seemed to anticipate your next move the moment you took a step forward.

“Where are you going, huh?” he drawled, yanking you back.

“I’m sorry,” you screamed at him, trying to pull his arms off of you.

“No, you’re not,” he frowned at you, pressing a thumb against your throat. “You’re just sorry I found out.”

You pushed at his face, and your boyfriend retaliated by pushing at yours, forcing you to stumble and fall back, the wall barely serving to catch you. In a panic, you turned and ran into his bathroom, just narrowly shutting and locking the door the same time Rafe’s fists hit against it. He hit it again, harder this time, and you flinched, stepping back.

“Open this door,” you heard him say, breathing labored.

He kicked at it when you didn’t, and you tearfully stared at it with wide eyes.

“Baby,” he slowly said. “You do not want me to kick it down. I can promise you you won’t like it.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you looked around. You were at a loss, mind going a mile a minute as he told you to open the door again, and more tears just kept falling. You could feel yourself overheating, and all those moments where you anticipated his next move or tried to anticipate the best move for you became worthless. This wasn’t a conversation where you were trying to prevent the violent outcome.

The violent outcome was here.

Pushing yourself against the door was in vain, because with a few more harsh kicks, it was forced open, and you were forced to the floor. Your hands shook as you fought against Rafe’s, trying to keep them off of you, but when they wrapped around your neck, breathing became your first priority. He briefly raised your head before slamming it back down, and you felt no relief when his hands let you go because you immediately saw him reach for his pants.

Even with a tilting vision and confused mind, his intent was clear.

However, a harsh knock on his room door startled you both. With a struggle, you reached up to touch your head just as Rafe’s eyes met yours. You tearfully blinked at him, wondering what he planned to do, when another knock followed the first, their fist banging on the door, and with a huff, Rafe got off of you. You licked your lips, unsurprised by the taste of blood.

You heard Rafe open his door.

“What the hell are you doing up here?” Sarah aggressively questioned. “We can hear you banging all the way out in the yard.”

You closed your eyes as you realized that Rafe’s music hadn’t been loud enough, and with an inflamed face and aching stomach, you turned on your side. A small groan left you when you wrapped your arms around your lower half, throat starting to hurt too.

“I was just trying to move my dresser around,” you heard Rafe rudely tell her. “Didn’t mean to disturb her royal highness.”

You didn’t see Sarah’s response, but knowing the younger girl, she probably rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s in the bathroom.”

Rafe’s response was immediate.

“Just keep it down. Never mind how annoying it is, but Y/N told me earlier she had some studying to do. We all know you don’t care about that, but…”

The rest of Sarah’s words were lost to you as Rafe slammed the door in her face. One of your hands came up to cover your own face as you sobbed into it, lip still bleeding from where your teeth had cut into the skin. You could hear Rafe’s footsteps as he approached the bathroom, and you were relieved when he didn’t enter, just opting to stand in the doorway.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t dare look. The thought of what almost happened—and what no doubt would later on—just made you cry harder, and Rafe’s heated sigh reached your ears.

“When you’re soaking in the bathtub tonight,” he slowly began, tone smug. “I want you to remember whose fault this is.”

…and as crazy as it seemed, you couldn’t determine if he meant you…or JJ.

[titaswrld]

gryffindor characters modern! AU

according to me….

description: silly modern! AU head canons of the main gryffindor characters :)

pairing: harry, ron, fred, george, ginny and hermione x reader

contains: mentions of substances, alcohol and weed. mentions sexual acts (i think…)

|an: bored and decided i’d made something a little silly. literally just my thoughts lolll don’t take this too seriously

modern AU! harry potter who…

— definitely has a flip phone and refuses to be on any form of social media bc he thinks it’s awful for you

— i think being around his friends who do have social media would give him the spiel on most things tho

— oh he loveeesss house of dragon omg

— only listens to 70s 80s 90s music and some jazz tbh

— i feel like he’s just very old fashioned and he’s happy that way

— such a loving and caring bf since he’s hardly ever even touched the internet he’s pure lol

— def a lil goofball he’d say a little slang term the twins taught him and repeat it back to you…”harry who taught you that…”

— don’t ask him to do no substances i think he’d be kinda against them..not a smoker…occasional drinker.

modern AU! ron weasley who…

— is a stoner! thru and thru. i think he’s a bong rip typa fellow but a blunt or a joint would do it too. doesn’t strike me as a cart of eddie guy.

— big female rap supporter imo…def into latto and maybe dabbles into some meg that’s his girlll lol

— definitely a twea/seltzer guy oml cannot take shots is my hc

— heavy on the lowk himbo boyfriend

— not stupid at all but not super street smart i fear, more of a book smart type of guy.

— super cute and adorable bf overall, he’s a big boy. for sure.

—armmmmssss…. gymrat imo he loves to blow off steam at the gym

—i feel like isn’t a social media person as well…has an insta but doesn’t post on it nor have a lot of followers..no tiktok maybe twitter

—luv him but he was def on drakes side of the beef…definitely a champagne papi

—kinda a video game nerd imo but he’s definitely into the sports ones like FIFA

— buys you n him the crumbl cookie lineup every week and you review them tg in the car pretending to be those tiktok crumbl reviewers😭🫶 (he’s so cute)

modern AU! hermione granger who…

— is 100% on booktok

— do not ask her about the summer i turned pretty or bridgerton unless you wanna listen to her talk for hours.

— don’t play with her and noah kahan…

—or taylor swift

— or chappell roan..

—she’ll have a cute little mixed drink or perhaps a seltzer but do not give this girl no shots she don’t want none!

— her and colleen hoover….

— brings her digital camera everywhere and is most def the camera girl friend….”hermione pls send me the pics from last night”

modern AU! ginny weasley who...

— does not play about female wnba players at all.

— don’t even mention paige bueckers…that’s her girl.

— is a party animal just like her brother.

— loves her chappell roan too.

— always on social media u cannot get this girl off her phone. she’s like an ipad kid u couldn’t rip it out of her cold head hands.

— such a good girlfriend, definitely so protective over her s/o, especially on social media.

— “ginny why’d you respond to every comment under my post complimenting me with ‘& she/he mine..so’…”

modern AU! fred weasley who…

— definitely asks u “english or spanish?”

—definitely goes to too many parties…like at a function every weekend he loves the party scene.

—treats his girl RIGHTT i would compare the relationship to don toliver and kali uchis, flowers all the time, handsy. posting/supporting his girl allll the time

—“i❤️mygf” typa fellow, all his posts on socials are her! all his stories, his highlights and his posts.

— also a weed demon, doesn’t strike me as a beer or seltzer guy but ooooo that liqah….

— dress to impress demon. his gf definitely got him to play it and he got hooked and now he’s a fashion maven.

modern AU! george weasley who…

— is every girls dream man…im talking flowers, boo baskets, burr baskets, easter baskets, omg you say the word and he’s massaging your feet and feeding you grapes.

— always posting his girl just like his brother she’s on his absolutely everything and he has a highlight for her.

— type of guy to post those tiktoks of his girl on his account appreciating her all the time and the comments are like “omg on his account too!” and it’s so cute and adorable.

—isn’t much of a party guy like his brother…will go to a few but i feel like it’s not his thing at all and he’d rather be hanging out with friends instead of at a big function with strangers.

—literally the ken to your barbie and yes he took you to see the movie and yes he got into costume with you. and he did it happily.

— always hanging out with his girlfriend and wouldn’t want it any other way.

[elizakai]

I like thinking about their more canon adjacent dynamic (character wise)

MINI ANALYSIS TIME

Because while I love the soft interpretations, even WITH those let’s be real; that’s not how they’d act off the bat

Horror would be extremely judgmental (fair) and hate Dust for what he did. He’d despise him and probably be very passive aggressive. Making jabs and making his disdain apparent when they have to interact. I think getting a read on Dust is also difficult and would piss Horror off. Horror is unpredictable and has a sadistic streak, if he was mad or manic and had Dust in a corner he’d have no qualms about manhandling the guy. (And Dust probably wouldn’t do much to stop him.)

Meanwhile, Dusttale’s creator was asked once how Dust may feel if he met Horror, to which they said he feels bad for Horror. He likes him, sees him as someone who went through something horribly undeserved. In my mind Dust is somewhat protective of Horror.

I interpret these clashing of dynamics as Horror’s just utter disdain for this guy, and Dust’s resigned acceptance of Horror’s judgment. He’d agree with him if he were to judge himself, but I think a part of him wants Horror’s approval. He doesn’t EVER expect to get it, but Horror is….

While he’s seen hell, he’s almost a less tormented version of Dust himself. Deep down they are the same. Horror has suffered greatly, but even still hasn’t hit the deep end dust has, and I think he’d want to protect that sort of innocence he’s granted. One could think of it as him protecting a piece of himself he himself has already sacrificed. And wanting APPROVAL from him, wishing to be forgiven, craving that small piece of validation or understanding as he tries to reconcile with himself.

Horror’s formed opinion makes sense, he agrees with it, and simply wishes he disagreed, that he could have proof of himself being a FRACTION worthy of forgiveness or understanding.

The judge in both of them has both formed an opinion of the other, and they happen to differ greatly. Horror sees Dust as an abuser and Dust sees Horror as a victim.

I like to imagine that, while reluctantly thrown into the same general vicinity, Horror would grow to be more understanding (again if we are going with a PROGRESSIVE plot line) and come to understand that, yes, he wasn’t WRONG, but there is nuance to the situation. They both have a very grim understanding of what it’s like to be trapped. I think he has the capacity to understand Dust better if he was given time. His hands aren’t clean after all, and he knows what it’s like to be forced into a situation and to feel backed into a drastic decision. He knows what it’s like to lose your autonomy and to feel your mind break itself under pressure.

I think the simple fact that Dust wouldn’t TRY to change his mind or justify himself would be part of why Horror could come to understand him. He’s devestated by his actions, he is by no means a sadist.

Horror coming to understand Dust and sort of reconcile/forgive him I think would be rather BIG for Horror, especially if you factor in other situations he now has to consider. (For example, his Undyne and her drastic attempt at freeing the undergroud…) reconciling his OWN arguably cruel decisions he has made with pure intentions, when he feels there’s no other choice (like his Papyrus and tricking him into doing something so outside of his beliefs, to protect him)

It would also be healing for Dust to get that reconciliation with Horror because again…Horror’s opinion actually may MATTER.

And in the same way that Dust may see Horror as a sort of person to be protected from further harm, Horror would probably pick up on all of the VERY bad habits Dust has that (in my observation at least) are EXTREMELY similar to his own habits/past habits (isolation, obsession, deprivation, paranoia, bringing harm to self etc) and I could see him being sensitive towards those and trying to prevent it worsening (it’s a sore subject💔) Horror is shown to prioritize taking care of those he cares about, even when he’s a bit mad, and he has the capacity to grow an understanding for someone he doesn’t like initially :))

I think they have potential to be VERY good for one another, Horror (while being fucked up) encourages (and maybe forces) better habits and actually has an opinion that matters to Dust, and Dust is inclined to be VERY loyal (Horror needs someone to show him loyalty.) to anyone who cares to give him the time of day, as it’s far beyond what he’d expect, and he’s got the sympathy/protective streak towards Horror as an actual in character detail.

And from there it would be wonderful to explore their dynamic in whatever way you like to interpret it🤫💥

I could go on but I’ll stop here, if you read this all CONGRATS!!!

Share your thoughts I love it

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Carlos/Oscar

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

the carlos/oscar ship (affectionately known as carcar) has taken off in recent weeks. we wanted to share some of our favourite fics with you!

new to the fun? you can find a carcar primer here, written by @blueballsracing 🧡❤

enjoy!

nsfw: reckless attention by @janinaduszejko | E | 4.2k Carlos and Oscar have a casual hookup arrangement. Both have very different ideas about how significant it is. I really like unreliable POV in fic like this. Oscar thinks he's having casual, convenient hookups with Carlos, and is determined not to examine his feelings too closely. Carlos, meanwhile, is having a crisis over it, experiencing wants and urges he has no clue how to even begin handling. Being into a guy is confusing enough, but apparently to be submissive as well? No wonder he can't do it sober.

A quick-fire flash of something mawkish blitzes up Oscar’s spine and he sets his jaw against it. He keeps Carlos’s head in place and sets a new rhythm, fucking up in quick, even strokes. Carlos groans and Oscar can feel it around the head of his cock, the taut vibration of it, the hot clench of Carlos’s throat. Oscar’s skin feels like it’s got a current running through it, prickling sharp. His brain feels fuzzy, thoughts unable to get purchase and linger.

nsfw: the better half of a good time by @antimonyandthyme | E | 4.4k Canon divergence, future fic, sex work. Oscar, a few years into his Formula 1 career now, is locked in a bitter WDC fight with Lando. Their relationship has completely soured. He cruises the streets one night and finds a sex worker. The man, a few years older than Oscar, is vaguely familiar. Fics which explore how tenuous and elusive motorsports careers can be, how a few small changes of circumstance can result in a career failing to launch at all, are fascinating to me, and this one is no exception. The author paints a picture of a world just ever so slightly skewed from our own, one where a few unlucky moments resulted in a very different life path for Carlos.

'He’s not angry, not really. His thoughts can’t help but stray to Lando. Those last few times were mean. And being mean takes effort, more effort than Oscar sees fit to expend. Then the last few times had dried up to nothing, and Oscar had taken to searching for other ways he could keep winning outside the track, because nothing on track actually felt like winning anymore.'

nsfw: Open mouth, on my knees (for you)  by @lovelylotusf1 | E | 4.9k Oscar has a bad gag reflex and asks Carlos to help him train it away so he’d be good for Lando. What ensues is desire and power dynamics and taking what you need from the other person. I really enjoyed how the author depicted Oscar’s internal thought process and the journey of hatred to desire. The way Lando’s existence was used as almost a pawn was also written really well!

nsfw: hatred cradles you by @foggieststars | E | 6.8k Carlos comes to Oscar’s hotel room in search of Lando. What ensues is bickering, rising tension, and passionate hate sex. I love the palpable tension woven throughout this fic, Oscar and Carlos’ characterisations are so fun and fit so well together. The dialogue and the bickering is fun and fast paced and makes you want to read more! Amazing work by this author as always.

when both our cars collide by @oscarpiastriwdc | M | 8.4k Carlos finds himself stuck in a time loop, experiencing the same qualifying crash with Oscar over and over. I love time loop fic. There is something about being given the chance to fix something or change something, being able to examine a situation over and over in granular detail, that works especially well in F1 RPF where milliseconds can make a difference. As per the best Groundhog Day fics, it's not so much about what Carlos does as how he feels, and he finds himself drawing ever closer to Oscar as the loops stack. Oh, and there's a really cute dog.

'“Is that your dog?” Caligula wiggles, instinctually sensing the conversation has shifted to her. “Yes.” “I never pictured you with a tiny dog.” Carlos snorts. “What, you thought I would have a big, mean dog?” “More like a cat who scratches your eyes out.” “She’ll do that, too.” “What’s her name?” “Caligula.” Oscar makes a strange noise, a cross between a laugh and a sneeze. “Caligula? That’s an… odd name. Can I?” Oscar extends a hand, questioning. Carlos nods, and Oscar lets Caligula sniff his fingers. She catches a taste of something appetizing and nibbles at his fingers. “Sorry–” “No, she’s sweet.” The ‘unlike you’ remains unspoken'

nsfw: moth to a flame by @blueballsracing | E | 15.5k Enemies to lovers carcar with some hate sex and plot (aka Carlos moves to Red Bull next season). This was really fun to write and I loved going into Carlos' mind and writing their dynamics!

'For a split second, his thoughts fill up with wonders about the future, but he’s stuck in the past. Blue, yellow, orange, and red line his vision–and suddenly, a montage of memories obstruct his vision. He’s 20 when he drives at the Australian Grand Prix for the first time he debuts with Toro Rosso. He’s 20 when he’s next to 17-year-old Max playing word tennis in a car. He’s 21 when he crashes in qualifying at COTA, but makes up 10 positions on the first lap and finishes in the points. He’s 21 when he out-qualifies Max for a whole season, 10-9. It’s the little wins that matter–for, life is not a sprint, but a marathon. He’s 22 when Toro Rosso is a mess in the 2017 season, but he comes out on top as the superior driver of the 4 that “half” season. He leaves to save face, to get away from the screaming toxicity that is Jos Verstappen. He’s 23 when he drives for Renault for the first time and scores points. He’s 24 when he’s replaced by another Red Bull reject driver, Daniel, when he leaves Renault for McLaren. Except–he thinks otherwise. Red Bull didn’t reject both him and Daniel. Quite the opposite. The ages muddle together, but the story stays the same. He crashes and scores points and–he leaves and leaves and leaves. He gets his first podium and thanks the Brazilian audience, he leaves, he replaces a world champion, he gets his first and second and third win, is called slurs and hate names every single time for it, he leaves, he leaves, he leaves.'

nsfw: Grill the Grid by @mercurial-vroom | E | 23.2k (wip) Oscar, a very socially anxious engineering student, agrees to join Lando's pub quiz team. His rival on the team turns out to be Carlos. This fic is light and funny while at the same time examining what it can be like to be socially awkward and anxious. Seeing Oscar settle into the group dynamic is great, and the interplay among all the characters creates some great sparks.

Then, Carlos picked up the glass and took a long pull, his eyes still not leaving Oscar’s as he did so. “Well done,” he said with a small smile. Oscar noticed after he set the drink down that his plush lips were damp and shiny from the foamy beer. “I guess I am off my game tonight. Good show, Oscar.” And although he knew he should still be basking pettily in his moment of small-but-gratifying triumph… all of the sudden, Oscar found that all he could focus on was the fact that this was the first time he’d heard Carlos actually use his name. He was deeply unnerved to realize just how much he’d liked the sound of it.

nsfw: he just turned in like i didn't exist by @drivestraight | E | 36.5k Carlos and Oscar develop a soul bond. Neither of them are thrilled about this. This fic is wonderful. The soulbond complicates their already prickly relationship, until they start to develop an understanding and find empathy for one another. Oscar keeps getting little zings of stress from Carlos which we know are about his contract. Oscar, meanwhile, is starting to work a few things out about his sexuality and finds Carlos to be a surprisingly kind and patient presence in his mind.

'Oscar swallows. You heard me? he asks, uselessly. That first day, Oscar had assumed that everything Carlos heard, he responded to. Carlos hadn’t—hadn’t responded to any of those thoughts. Oscar hadn’t known. I heard everything. It is not very pleasant to have someone tell you how unwanted you are all the time. How you would prefer it to be literally anyone else. Bringing the incident up was the only way to get you to stop thinking about how horrible it was to have me as a soulmate. You do not think as quietly as you think. Oscar’s throat feels tight, a sinking and horrible feeling settling into his gut. Carlos hadn’t—at least not in English—hadn’t thought a single thing about how horrible their bond was. Oscar’s been the asshole this whole time, hasn’t he? I didn’t mean it like that, he tries. It feels like a lie even to himself. Carlos doesn’t respond. I’m sorry, Oscar tries again, playing with the ring on his index finger. Carlos is silent for the rest of the weekend. Oscar finds out later, from Lando, that it was Carlos’ birthday.'

[fandomgirlz01]

Somewhere Out There 

Paul {TLB} X Reader

Imagine on fandom instagram?: No

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: No

Style of Writing: Stand Alone Fic (has potential for more in the future though... 😉)

Rating: R for some mature themes such as smoking as well you know the description of a vampire losing it and going absolutely raving mad, like so mad all he sees is red 😉

Edited: Yes

Word count: 4,867

Post Date & Time: November 1st 2024 at 12:16AM

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings Here 

Listen to the story be read out loud here.

Summary: Ever since all the vampires have known they and humans alike have a soulmate. The only member of the lost boys who hasn’t found his other half is Paul, but what happens when he does actually find them? 

PSA from Faith: This is the first time I am writing for a character from The Lost Boys. I just love both Paul and David as well as Dwayne and Marko. Yet I also love Mike so you might see more of this fandom down the line… maybe. I have loved some of the works that I have read for this fandom, however I did notice there’s not very many where it’s not just centered on one of the boys specifically so I thought I’d give them (especially my favorites) a little attention. I did try to keep some canon and I also went non canon so before any of you guys come at me for it not being all accurate, this is just how I foresaw the boys okay? By the way you do NOT need to have seen the movie to read this fic. Yes it’s based off of the characters, but it will be spoiler free if you choose to watch the movie that is completely up to you guys. That being said I have NEVER written a soulmate AU before so if this isn’t 100% right, I’m sorry, but again this is just how I wanted to depict it all and I just really wanted to try something newish. Thank you and please enjoy the story! 

Song that goes with fic:

Many say Santa Carla has its deep dark secrets hidden away in the shadows, and only some know what those secrets are. Just like every night the boardwalk is lit up; couples walk under the moonlight none the wiser to what lurks in the night, others play games and go into the stores or on rides. Shouts of cheer and fright are all surrounding while the vampires make their usual meander all over the boardwalk, senses sharp yet vigilant as they look for anything they can do for a bit of amusement or maybe even find some dinner. 

Tonight, however, David notices that Paul seems to wander back behind them, seemingly feeling down which is unusual for the other blond vampire. Paul kicks at the dirt as he finds himself locked in his thoughts once more, thinking about her and what she might just be like. David laughs at something Marko said before telling the baby of the group (a nickname given to him by all the boys because that’s just what Marko is, the baby who everyone wants to protect, the happy-go-lucky spirit of the group and most innocent looking one) to keep going and he’ll catch up to him soon. Marko agrees before skipping off to walk and talk with Dwayne. David watches his brothers for a moment before turning around. He comes up beside Paul and pats him on the back, knowing just what Paul is thinking about. 

Ever since the vampires knew they each had a soulmate, all that mattered was when they’d find each other. The only one of the group who hadn’t found his soulmate yet was Paul, and sometimes he’d get discouraged when thinking of it all. When he did, he’d leave the mind link so his brothers didn’t have to hear his incessant inner thoughts, but David knew. He always knows. 

“You’ll find her, Paul. I know you will. It’s only a matter of time,” David tells his brother as he pulls him into his side. 

“Yeah, but it’s been so long, David. You’ve all found yours. What if I’m not meant to have one?” Paul asks, discouraged once more and David holds back the sigh he wants to let out at having had this conversation a million times before. 

“Listen, Paul. I know it feels that way. I used to feel that way before I met Nyra, Dwayne felt that way before meeting Amalie, and Marko felt that way before meeting sweet Charlotte. We’ve all felt that way at one point or another. It’ll pass,” David promises as he squeezes his brother’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know, David. It’s been a lot longer for me…” Paul again denies and David clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. 

“Well, you still have that song title written on your wrist, don’t you?” David asks.

“And you still see all colors, right?” Marko asks as he pops up behind the two, always the one to pop up at random times. 

“Yeah. I still have both…” Paul mutters as he holds up his wrist, showing the song title Somewhere Out There, a song by Linda Ronstadt and James Ingram that he knows well. 

“See, if you didn’t see color anymore or the song had faded, that’d mean she was dead. The fact you have both is a good thing,” Marko cheerily adds on, slapping him softly on the back and Paul only sighs. 

“What if she doesn’t have it? I mean, I’m dead myself,” Paul adds on and David shakes his head, laughing. 

“I’ve told you, Paul. I was dead and I still had it all, still do,” David informs him as he thinks of his Nyra and Marko hums in agreement. 

“And technically you're not dead, you're undead! Huge difference, buddy,” Marko very pointedly yet happily adds.

“I don’t think being a vampire changes the soulmate laws. I think you’d have to be dead dead, like in the ground dead for that,” Dwayne adds with a shrug as he now jumps in to help comfort his brother. 

Nobody really knows all the details about soulmates and the way it works. For centuries, they’ve all just known that it’s a powerful thing that only comes from the universe. People have done studies, but even then they’ve only learned the basics, so people and vampires just go with it, continuously being pulled together. 

“Who knows! Maybe you’ll find her tonight!” Marko again happily adds on, not knowing how right he might just be. 

“Yeah… maybe…” Paul sighs out, choosing to just agree with them to change the subject. 

Each of them always found their other half and David was sure it’d happen for Paul at some point if not sooner than later. Turns out David, Marko and Dwayne were right because as the night went on, they continued to goof off on the boardwalk for a few more hours before suddenly Paul felt different. He couldn’t put a finger on why he felt lighter all of a sudden. He thought for a moment maybe it was the new strain they’d all smoked before the night started, it felt like being high, but at the same time it didn’t feel like the high he was used to. 

“Do you guys smell that amazing smell?” he asks, perking up as they ride on the carousel again for the millionth time. 

“No. What is it, Paul?” David asks, concern written all over his face until he realizes what’s going on. 

“It smells sweet and fresh. Like… like…” Paul struggles to describe the smell that just hit him. 

“Like vanilla and cinnamon mixed together. Like… home…” Paul finally mutters as his confusion grows more and more. 

“Paul. Follow the scent. Let your nose guide you,” David commands his brother with a growing smile that he shares with the other boys, who catch onto what’s going on. 

“What? Me? Why? I suck at catching dinner,” Paul asks, knowing he definitely isn’t the best hunter of the group. More often than not, somehow Paul would lose his prey and Marko is the first to snicker. 

“That isn’t dinner you're smelling, Paulie my boy,” David tells him, his own grin growing in happiness for his brother. 

“What is it then?” Paul asks, confused and Marko face palms. 

“Dude. Just follow it and maybe find out!” Marko shouts as he pulls his hand away from his face and Paul shrugs. 

“Okay. What could it hurt?” he asks nobody in particular before doing just as his brothers had said. 

He follows the scent, electricity seeming to flow through him, making his toes and fingers tingle the more he moves toward it. The scent grows more and more intoxicating, making him feel more primal than ever before. The sweet smell only calls to him like a siren's call, making his whole body seem to light up. 

He continues to follow it, his brothers all flanking him, egging him to keep following it as they protect him while he’s in his unusual focus. The closer he gets to the alluring scent, the thicker it gets in the air. His blood boils though his veins which if he was not so focused, he would have thought that was weird for a vampire, but he could care less at the moment. He continues to follow the scent like he’s a compass needle, looking for its true north until he comes to a stop in front of the music store. He stands there frozen as he looks on at one of the workers, a girl at the counter talking with a customer as she rings them up. 

“Welp, Paul, my boy. I’d say you just found yourself your soulmate,” David happily comments as they all watch you from the large opening in the side of the building. 

Paul doesn’t answer as he watches you in awe and without knowing it, Paul’s ears activate his vampire hearing so he can hear you. He smiles to himself as the first thing he hears is the music you have playing on the boom box behind you: Somewhere Out There. Then he’s smiling wider as he overhears your conversation, your voice a brand new melody he never wants to forget. 

“That’ll be eight dollars, buddy,” you tell the kid who reaches into his pocket. 

“Oh. Linda Ronstadt. I love her work,” the kid tells you as he hands you the money and you smile warmly at him. 

“I love her too, but this is my favorite song. You wanna know why?” You ask the kid, putting the ten dollars he gave you into the register and without a doubt Paul knows exactly what you’re gonna say. 

“It’s mine and my soulmate's song, see,” you happily tell the kid after he nods and you hold out your wrist. 

“Wow! You and your soulmate must really be meant for one another then,” the kid tells you and you grin even more as you go back to getting his change. 

“Here's your two dollars back. Have fun listening to that tape,” you tell him as you reach out and hand him his money. 

Meanwhile, Paul still stands frozen, just staring at you in awe. His brothers all stand around him, smirking as they watch the lovesick look that he’s had to watch on all their faces wash over his own face now. 

“Well, aren’t you going to go over and say hi…?” Marko asks, nudging Paul a little bit, but again Paul doesn’t speak back, so entranced with watching you. 

You watch the little boy leave until he walks around the corner and then feel someone’s eyes on you, so you look around until your eyes land on Paul. The two of you make eye contact and stare at one another for a few minutes before he seemingly snaps out of the moment and walks away looking sad. You don’t know why (well actually that’s a lie, you have an inkling as to why, but you shrug it off) but you feel sad that he seems sad and wish you could just give him a hug. With a shake of your head, you decide to leave it be seeing as he was with a group of what seemed to be friends that could comfort him and just go back to work. 

“Paul?” David asks as Paul starts to hastily walk away, moving faster and faster by the minute, heading for his bike and his brothers follow after him in confusion. 

“Paul? What’s wrong? That’s your soulmate, buddy. You gotta go say hi!” Marko tries but Paul shakes his head, seemingly angry now. 

“No, I don’t,” he almost practically seeths out before kicking his kick stand up and starting his bike up. 

The three brothers watch on in confusion as he rides off and once he’s gone, Marko turns to David. David stands there with arms crossed, trying to figure out what would have spooked him. 

“You’d think he would have been happy. He’s been waiting for this moment for centuries…” Marko comments in utter disbelief and confusion. 

“You would think so,” Dwayne comments next, breaking David out of his thoughts. 

“Let’s go find him,” David commands before getting onto his bike with the others following suit and getting onto their own bikes. 

Together they all ride out to the cliff side where they know Paul goes when he wants some peace and quiet. Sure enough, they find him there sitting on his bike and smoking another rolled cigarette with his head low. 

“Paul?” David asks in an attentive tone, which is unusual for the vampire who’s normally commanding and stern.

No matter how cold, commanding and stern as he can seem or be, he still cares for his brothers, all three of them. David, Marko and Dwayne slowly get closer to him, if anyone was watching them right now, they would be surprised to see vampires of all creatures being soft on one another, but again Paul is their brother. They found each other and became family and as David likes to say, family comes first. 

“Paul, what’s wrong?” Marko softly asks again out of character.

“What’s wrong? Ha! What’s wrong?!” Paul retorts in what sounds like disbelief, rolling his eyes at the question. 

“She’s human! I can’t go near her. I’ll hurt her and I could never ask her to become one of us and… and…” Paul trails off, taking a gulp as he now tries to hold his tears back. 

“It’d ruin her beauty, man…” Paul sadly mutters, shaking his head in anger. 

“And to ask her to give up her life. Just to be with me. I can’t… I won’t…” Paul chokes on his words before lowering his head, refusing to look at his brothers. 

“Paul. How do you know that isn’t what she’d want? You gotta at least try to fight for her,” Marko comments with a frown, sad for his brother. 

“I don’t care if that’s what she’d want, Marko! She’s my soulmate! It’s my job to protect her! How do I do that the way I am?! Huh?!” he shouts in his brother's face, anger running through him as he heaves while Marko takes a step back. 

“How do I protect her from myself, huh, Marko?? Tell me that one,” he continues to let his anger take over before he sighs, turning around. 

“But if you love her that much already, then you couldn’t hurt her. You’re only hurting yourself by not reaching out to her,” Marko continues to try and convince Paul, who scoffs again, shaking his head as he flicks his joint away. 

“No. I’m protecting her. My pain is a small price compared to if she were to be hurt,” Paul mutters softly before he shrugs halfheartedly. 

“I’ll meet you guys back home at the cave,” Paul softly promises before kicking his kick stand up and starting the bike back up. 

“Dude needs to calm the heck down,” Marko comments as they all watch him drive away. 

“He’s just blinded by the shock of her being human. He’ll come around eventually. Paul always does, he likes to stew in his thoughts, ya know,” Dwayne comments back and Marko laughs in agreement. 

“Yeah. For being the wild carefree guy he is, he definitely is too broody sometimes. And people say you're the broody one,” Marko adds on with a roll of his eyes and Dwayne nods in agreement, chuckling along. 

“Hey. I’m most definitely the broody one. Paul is the crackhead. He smokes more than any of us…” Dwayne practically complains, making Marko laugh some more. 

“Awe, jealous that your place will be taken?” Marko taunts and Dwayne crosses his arms across his chest. 

“At least I don’t get called the baby…” Dwayne argues back with a smirk when Marko shyly grins, proving his point. 

“I actually don’t mind it…” Marko replies with a shrug and Dwayne shakes his head at him. 

“Of course you don’t,” Dwayne chuckles out and David reaches up to grab onto both of their shoulders, giving a light squeeze. 

“Okay. Okay. That’s enough, you two. Come on,  We’ll just leave him be for now. He’ll reach out though the link should he need us. For now, let’s go find dinner for ourselves,” David commands with a roll of his eyes at their play fighting. He still worries for Paul, but he knows he just needs time to come to terms with everything. 

“You got it, big D,” Marko jokes and Dwayne holds back the laugh he wants to let out at David’s annoyed look. 

This is how it always was with the brothers. Dwayne is definitely more silent and broody when others are around and Marko is the innocent curious one. David is leader and commander while Paul is the crackhead that will jump to do anything, yet Paul has always been the most in touch with his emotions, hence why he smokes. 

Meanwhile, as his brothers go on the hunt for dinner, Paul finds himself back at the boardwalk and sits on the beach, just watching the waves. He can still smell that intoxicating scent that he now knows is all you, so very strong that it makes him want more and more of it. He keeps his eyes closed, listening to you talk to all kinds of different customers that come and go. Soon before he knows it, you're closing up shop, saying goodbye to your coworker that stands with you as you pull down the door and lock it up tight. It’s only then he realizes all the loudness and craziness that normally surrounds the boardwalk is now quiet. 

He watches as you turn and you pull your headphones that had been resting around your neck up to your ears. He then starts to follow you, but stays in the shadows just watching over you. At first you look around like you're weary of something or someone being around, but you shrug nonchalantly and continue to walk. He watches over you with pure adoration rolling off of him, yet he also stays vigilant in case someone or something were to harm you. However if anyone saw the way he follows you, they’d probably say he follows like a lost puppy.

Finally after a long walk down the beach, you walk up the stairs to a door and open it before heading inside which makes him realize it’s probably your home. He stays for a while, just sitting on the bottom step, not fully ready to leave you just yet. Eventually the sun starts to rise, so he reluctantly leaves you safe in your apartment and heads home back to the cave. When he walks in, it’s only then he realizes he hadn’t eaten, so taken with making sure you were safe to even really care. He walks further in and finds David sitting in his wheelchair he loves so much. 

“Did you eat, Paul?” David asks with a raised eyebrow and Paul shakes his head. 

“I, uh… forgot…” he mutters, thinking David would be mad, but he’s surprised when David just smiles. 

“It’s okay. We saved you some. Did you figure out what you want to do?” David asks and Paul sighs once more. 

“I’m going to leave her be. That’s it,” Paul tells him and David sighs, sitting forward. 

“Paul. The universe will never let you stay away from her. You might be able to resist for a while, but eventually something will pull the two of you together,” David tells him in a pointed tone. He tries to be soft on him even though he wants to just command him to go talk to her or have max sire him to do it, but David won’t do that, he knows Paul has to choose to go to her himself. 

“It’s whatever, David. I’m going to eat and go to sleep,” Paul responds, shrugging before disappearing toward where they store their food sometimes. 

David frowns as he watches his brother disappear before sighing and shaking his head. David stands slowly from the chair before going and joining Dwayne and Marko as well as all their soulmates in sleeping from the rafter, knowing Paul will join once he’s finished eating. 

Three months have gone by now and every night, David seems to notice that at a certain point in the night Paul will just simply disappear. Where Paul disappears to, David thinks he knows, but he doesn’t want to try and interfere and so he lets him do his thing. 

Once again Paul sits in the sand, watching the waves and just listens to you the whole night. He’d come to realize that your voice is more calming to him then even a joint could be, so he just sits there and listens. Like every night since that first night he’d sat there listening to you and enjoying a peace he never knew he needed until you close up shop. Without fail every single night for the past three months, he waits until you have your headphones on and then he stays in the shadows as he follows you home, just wanting you safe. However, tonight something feels off and Paul just can’t figure it out. 

He’s been trying to figure out why your scent that’s so alluring to him seems off, but he can’t place why. He’s in such deep thought about it that he doesn’t clock the two surfer nazi’s creeping up from the other side. It’s when the one guy grabs you and pulls you into the dark under the boardwalk that Paul is alerted. He quickly follows after and finds one of the surfer nazi’s holding you struggling against the cement wall while the other one seemingly watches. 

“I told you earlier I’d find you and we’d have some fun,” the surfer nazi holding you growls as you continue to squirm and fight him. 

“And I said I didn’t want to. I do have a soulmate, ya know?!” You shout out and for a minuscule minute Paul stops to wonder if you’ve known he’s been around, but he shakes his head clear. 

“And I said I don’t care. Now stay still,” the surfer nazi commands out though a growl and when you don’t do as he says, he reaches up to smack you, fear falling over your face. 

Paul, however, feels his veins boil and an anger he’s never ever felt before washes over him. All he sees is red as he transforms into his vampire self and pulls the first guy off to the side, snapping his neck in the process before pulling the second guy off of you. You watch on as he pulls the guy away and punches him down before crouching over him. He bares his fangs before sinking his teeth into the guy's throat and ripping at it. When he’s satisfied that the guy is good and gone, he stands, heaving for breath, blood all over his face. Suddenly though, like breaking through a fog, his anger dissipates and he turns to look at you. 

You sit there against the sand, staring at the scene in front of you and he immediately rushes over. He crouches down next to you, shielding your view of the carnage behind him. 

“Hey. You okay?” he asks softly and all you do is nod as you stare at him with wide eyes, making him think you're scared when you're more in awe. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you at all, but I promise I am of no threat to you,” he quickly informs you, hoping it’ll help calm your fear, but he’s shocked when you softly smile at him. 

“I’m not scared of you, far from it actually…” you pause, trailing off to bite at your lip. 

“I was actually wondering when you’d come out of the shadows and talk to me,” you shyly admit, a blush on your cheeks now and a warm fuzzy feeling takes over Paul’s stomach. 

“It, uh, it was about time…” he admits almost shyly himself even though he’s shocked that you knew he'd been there all along. 

“I take it, you know who I am then?” he asks and you grin, nodding. 

“You’re that cute guy I saw a few months back standing on the beach,” you tell him, not quite sure if he knows about the two of you being soulmates or not. 

“I’m uh, y/n. Thank you for saving me…” you shyly continue and he shakes his head. 

“I’m Paul, and there’s really no reason to thank me,” he responds with a shrug as he gives you his name in return. 

“Hello, Paul, it’s very nice to meet you,” you joke with him and he chuckles, not being able to help but just adore you. 

“Here. I’ll walk you home,” he starts as he stands before holding a hand out for you. 

“So basically what you’ve been doing for the last three months, only I can actually talk with you now?” You jokingly ask in faux shock and he playfully yet bashfully rolls his eyes. 

“I had my reasons-” he shrugs before you place your hand in his and his sentence gets cut off with a halted breath as the two of you stand. 

He’s stunned by just how easily your hand fits in his like a puzzle piece and how warm you are. You look up at him, making real eye contact for the first time and as he looks into your eyes, his whole center seems to shift once more as an all consuming love for you just flows through him. 

“Are you okay, Paul?” You ask as you reach up and rub his cheek, trying to get some of the blood off, shocking him even more. 

“No. Yeah, I’m okay,” he tells you although he so badly wants to kiss you, but before he can he’s shaking his head as if to rid himself of the thought. 

“Come on. Let’s get you safe at home,” he fully breaks the tension now, ruining the moment and you frown before nodding as the two of you start to walk. 

Hey, boys. There’s food on the beach if you want it. He reaches out to his brothers though the mind link they share before you nudge him as the two of you walk. 

“So are you the only one I’m safe with? Or is your whole group supposed to like, protect me now?” You joke, but Paul can tell it’s a serious question that you want answered. 

“Nah… No vampire will hurt you. Not with me around now. Definitely not from my pack anyway. You’ve kinda already been adopted into the family,” he informs you and you give him a confused look like you're not fully getting it. 

“You’re part of this family whether you decide to change or not…” he tells you while trying to hide the fact he knows your soulmates. 

“Why?” You ask, egging him on hoping he’ll say it first and he pauses for a moment, trying to decide if he wants to tell you or not. 

“Well umm… because you're my soulmate,” he shyly admits, he’d probably start blushing if vampires could and you let out a giggle, making him look at you in shock. 

“Oh, my sweet Paul. I knew… you really thought I wouldn’t know? Especially when you’ve been following me home every night like a lost puppy. I knew it the moment our eyes first met,” you pointedly tell him with a proud smile.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me then?” he asks and you pause to purse your lips. 

“Well you walked away looking rather sad and I just wanted to give you a hug, but your friends-” 

“Brothers,” he corrects you and you smile softly at him. 

“You were with your brothers,” you amend your first words with a shrug before going on. 

“I assumed you just were shocked by finding me and you’d come talk to me eventually but you never did. I assumed you just didn’t know how to approach me,” you explain to him as you show him your wrist proudly with the words he knows so well written in matching ink: Somewhere Out There. 

“No. I wanted to. Believe me, I did so badly, but my fears of what I am got in the way of it all. I’m sorry,” he explains before looking away in shame. 

“It’s okay. We all let the fear get the best of us sometimes, but I’m glad we’ve finally actually met,” you tell him as you stop in place to turn to him and reach up to touch his cheek, not really caring about the blood. 

“Even with the circumstances of how we met?” he asks you with a raised eyebrow and you let out a giggle that sounds heavenly to his ears. 

“Yes. Even with the circumstances of it all,” you tell him and he shakes his head at you in disbelief before grinning at you. 

“Yeah. Again I’m sorry. I just wanted to protect you, even from myself,” he says and he grimaces at himself after saying it. 

“Paul. It’s really okay. I’m just glad we're together now. We are, right?” You ask, scared he’ll leave you at your apartment and never come back. 

“Babe, I couldn’t leave now even if I tried,” he charmingly tells you with a grin taking over his face. 

“Good, because I wouldn’t want you to,” you grin now too, happy to be on the same page. 

That's how the night ends, with you and Paul now walking hand in hand in the moonlight. Paul can’t help but to think just how right his brothers had been, if only he’d talked to you that very first night this could have been the two of you every night for the last three months. But Paul refuses to think any further about it and can’t help but smile the whole way as he walks you to your apartment. He leaves you there knowing you’ll be safe, promising to see you tomorrow night and together you both know this is the start to an even more beautiful story for the two of you to tell in the future. 

The End...

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[whateverisbeautiful]

How do you think Rick would react to another man being interested in Michonne when they first arrived to Alexandria back in season 6 ? How would you think he react now ?

Oh thanks for asking! I’ve rolled different scenarios around in my head over the years regarding this and wrote out my thoughts here. 😊⬇️

I always felt like even a scene or two (not a whole storyline) of a man showing clear romantic interest in Michonne pre-canon would have been interesting and realistic since Michonne is such an undeniable catch inside and out. In my mind, the main reason it didn’t happen is because Rick and Michonne were already operating so much like a couple in ASZ. That likely kept men from feeling they could pursue Michonne since she was clearly the most important woman in Rick’s life and already seemed practically married with kids to most people on the outside looking in.

I think if a man showed interest in Michonne when they got to ASZ in season 5, it probably would have subconsciously amplified Rick’s crash out during that ASZ arc. 😬 Like after already spiraling mentally & being in love with his son’s best friend and not knowing what to do, I think seeing another man try to swoop in on Michonne, would have had Rick on edge and acting up even more than he already was in Alexandria.

Rick already was feeling super protective of team family and I think he’d draw an even bigger line between TF and the Alexandrians. He’d think the divide he was making is just because he wants his people safe, but it would also be because he doesn’t want this new guy around Michonne like that. And I just know, even despite Michonne not falling for this new guy, Rick would still be finding it hard to focus whenever he saw Michonne around him, like…

I think even in the pre-canon days there was a part of Rick that was afraid of losing Michonne. And having a new guy pursuing Michonne would likely exacerbate that fear. That’s part of why Richonne’s s5 finale convo is such an important moment because Rick gets to hear Michonne confirm that he doesn’t have to fear losing her anymore because she’s with him no matter what.

If a man started pursuing Michonne in 6A, I think it would have accelerated Rick finally finding his moment to make his feelings known to her. Not in a rushed way or a way motivated just by jealousy, I just think seeing Michonne around this new guy would be Rick’s wake up call that life is way too short to not go after the woman he knows he’s in love with.

And the way Rick and Michonne always paired up for tasks, I think Rick would be making sure this new guy was never paired with them lol. And then once he had more power in ASZ, I feel like Rick would be recommending/assigning the new guy to go on those weeks long runs like the one Tara and Heath went on. 🤭 If he ever discussed the guy with Michonne, I think Rick would try to be “subtle” and take the angle of we don’t know these people and have to be careful. And if Michonne gave him the “we’re in here together” talk still, I could almost see Rick professing his feelings for her right then and there.

I also think by this point even Carl would be giving Rick unspoken looks like ‘alright dad, make your move because we can’t have this new guy coming along and interfering with our family.’ Daryl probably would also have a few more of those stomach-pat moments with Rick because Slick Rick would be wearing all his emotions on his face if he felt like he was going to lose his chance with Michonne.

Rick ultimately would want for Michonne to be happy and for him to be the man making her happy. So I think he’d make his feelings known quicker and he’d snap out of that Jessie mess quicker because it would be harder to distract himself with that situation when Michonne has some other guy pursuing her.

With TOWL, I have a short scene I envision in episode 3 about how Rick would react to seeing someone in the CRM flirt with “Dana.” It would never be a matter of Rick worrying about Michonne’s response to a guy flirting with her, but imo he definitely would be stepping in with that Sergeant Major energy to let the interested guy know he has somewhere else to be and it’s not around this new pretty consignee lol.

As to how Rick would react to someone showing interest in Michonne now, I think @nobleriver already put in great words the thoughts surrounding Rick and jealousy, which I agree with. I don’t think Rick and Michonne get jealous because they know what they have between each other is unbreakable.

No matter who showed interest (and I'm sure many would want to for both of them), Rick and Michonne would feel secure knowing no one can ever come between them. Although I can see Rick and Michonne still having some ‘step back�� energy with whoever was trying to flirtatiosuly approach one of them.

Like Rick would not hesitate to put someone in their place if they think they can shoot their shot with Michonne. But overall, when Richonne both said ‘I’m yours’ in that proprosal they meant that and they know and trust that the other meant it too.

So I think Rick and Michonne's reactions to others showing interest now would never be rooted in worry that someone is going to pull them away from each other. They know they’re forever loyal to each other. They’d just make sure the message was clear to outsiders that they are married and any attempts at breaking that will always be futile. 👌🏽

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

What are your head cannons for characters in different factions within Zenless being friends? (Example: Lucy and Corin being friends because they have the shared experience of not great parents based on what the game reveals).

Ooooooh I hadn’t thought about this til now—

I’m gonna try and include as many characters as possible in this!!

So first off, everyone in the Cunning Hares gets along with everyone in The Sons of Calydon. Considering Billy used to be a former member of the gang, I’d say the two work pretty closely/know each other fairly well. For specifics, I think Anby and Caesar have the same mindset when it comes to combat, and Nekomata and Burnice bond over being chaos gremlins. Nekomata would also love Piper, nap taking gang go Brrrr. I think the only ones who wouldn’t like each other would be Nicole and Lucy, and they tend to just hate each other in secret/behind everyone else’s back’s cause they care about their own groups too much.

Similarly, I think Belobog also has similar ties to Victoria Housekeeping. Lycaon and Corin both like Ben, but for different reasons. Lycaon likes Ben due to thiren solidarity, and Lycaon also thinks he’s a pretty decent guy who’s chill and all that. If Belobog ever needs a commission from Victoria, or vice versa, the transactions are made between those two.

Corin likes him cause of how gentle and understanding he is. She sees a lot of her new father figure Lycaon in him.

As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t really think anyone in Victoria Housekeeping would like the company of the more criminally aligned factions (so far being the Cunning Hares and Sons of Calydon). Sure, Victoria Housekeeping may not have the greatest moral compass, but they do have a reputation to uphold.

The only one I think does make sense is Corin and Nekomata considering their actions in canon. Maaaaaybeee if you squint, I can see Anby and Ellen getting along, too

Seth being the himbo that he is would definitely befriend Rina on accident. Like, she would just be doing the mind manipulation stuff and being super condescending and shit, and he’d be none the wiser and think her insults to be genuine compliments.

And obviously because of that, I think Rina and Jane would also be besties. Gaslight gatekeep girlboss solidarity.

Lycaon and Qingyi I think would also get along at least somewhat well, considering both are very peepaw coded characters. Lycaon also deems it good to have at least one cop friend for emergencies.

Soldier 11 often works with NEPS, but hasn’t been able to form a close bond with anyone outside of Phaethon due to how insanely busy she always is. She’d definitely like Qingyi the most if given the time to actually hang out with the NEPS faction.

Seth, if ever given the chance, would also probably like Anton’s company. The two have similar moral compasses and even more similar himbo mindsets.

Anton would also love Billy for the same reasons. He has to keep their friendship somewhat hidden though, lest Grace finds out Billy exists and tries to cut him open to see how he works.

Piper seems to be the mechanic of the Sons of Calydon group, so I think she’d get along with at least Koleda and Anton from Belobog. Solidarity in working with big machinery and all that y’know?

Soukaku would definitely be friends with Burnice, no explanation needed. Chaos gremlin x chaos gremlin.

Harumasa and Seth probably have a history together the same way Zhu Yuan and Miyabi do.

Until they reveal more about her, I don’t really know what to say about Yanagi, but I think she’d probably get along with people like Lycaon and Qingyi

I ran into Lighter once in Lumina square and he had dialogue about being kinda shy so y’know what, fuck it, anxious mf solidarity between him and Corin. Let the tall scary looking biker guy have social anxiety and let it be the most normal thing ever please Hoyo I beg do not make him like fucking Mika from genshin

I really hope they officially reveal the idol/livestreamer faction, as well as the vampire guy in Lycaon’s story quest soon, cause I’d love to see how their personalities are, and how they’d fit in with the rest of the cast

[struwberrii]

semi headcanons ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

here are some random general headcanons for semi eita my underrated king :3 (also pls it’s actually so hard to read this guys personality BEAR WITH ME!!)

look at this man and tell me he doesn’t play guitar

his notes app is literally filled with random lyrics and guitar riffs

also i can imagine him having a mac book and his photo booth app is just vids of him covering songs and playing guitar

it’s canon that tendou thinks his style kinda sucks so i imagine him just owning some of the most horrendous graphic t-shirts

likes taking walks in wooded areas and just listening to music and getting lost in thought

i feel like he would be the type of guy to make every conversation with someone he doesn’t rlly know too well super awkward

like the type of guy to say “you too!” when a server say enjoy your food

he gives me middle child vibes and i feel like he’d have an older brother who introduced him to cool bands and guitar

probably the type of guy to randomly get super philosophical

i feel like he’d be super gullible on certain topics too, like he probably believed a lot of those dumb internet shams for an absurd amount of time

would def judge your music taste silently then try to put you onto his favs

always in a bad mood/irritated but the second someone compliments him or is nice to him he’s wagging his tail

movie fanatic, he has seen every movie on the planet

i also feel like he’s 2011 older brother core, ykwim?

failing in school and knows he’s gonna have a hard time if he doesn’t get it together but has no motivation

beat up doc marten boots wearer

i honestly feel like he’d be kinda rude unintentionally and then be confused as to why people are calling him mean

also it’s canon that he’s in the lowest class at shiratorizawa so you already KNOW he’s a scholarship boy because no way he got in for those grades 😭😭😭

probably goes to the gym like twice a week because he forgets

spends literally 3 hours to do the simplest homework because every little thing distracts him

always smells like musky apples or rotten fruit for some reason

genuinely a chill person to be around if you understand his humor

pretends to play drums with his pencils on his desk

will stop talking mid conversation if he thinks of a good song lyric to write down

i feel like he would think he’s really deep and wise but he’s actually just kind of clueless 😭

mario kart champ

definitely the type of guy to get easily talked into doing stupid things like ufo hunting at 2 am on a school day

i actually imagine him to have a really deep and smooth singing voice (i could actually write a whole drabble abt band au semi)

probably has the worst diet ever, bro is eating leftover pizza for breakfast lunch dinner AND snacks

always thinking about his future but never doing anything to better his situation

has the comfiest sweaters but you’ll have to ignore the holes and questionable stains in weird places

type of guy to ruin your concert videos because his singing is so bad and off key

i also feel like his room would be really weirdly decorated, like he’d have a stolen stop sign up as decoration and then like holes punched in his walls and missing light bulbs

always has a lighter on him for some reason

also always has a headache

i feel like he’d also have a lot of instagram followers for some reason, like a couple thousand and he doesn’t even really post anything

the type of guy to constantly be thinking about how he could be doing better/more when his friends share good news and accomplishments with him

i feel like he’d have a pet lizard or frog yk :]

[swtnrcmnt]

୨୧ — e.l relationship headcanons

yes this is tradition for every new character i obsess over :)

just an fyi ! this will fit a more girly, coquette!reader :) any race is welcome to read ofc ! i’ll also be including some nsfw headcanons to test the waters and see if i should write more in the future ! enjoy :)

- is the sweetest cutest golden retriever boyfriend

- and is the most awkward when he first meets you

- he follows you around like a lost little puppy

- oh also for sure gives u the princess treatment. like he will never let you hold anything.

- shopping spree? he’ll hold your bags. walking back to your dorm? he’ll hold your books.

- he’d do literally anything for you because he’s HEAD OVER HEELS

- if we’re going to acknowledge the ghostface thing, i feel like he would make sure that you never get hurt physically whatsoever

- mentally? he can’t really promise that lol

- back to my sweet angel boyfriend who does no wrong !! he would never hurt a fly

- would always be taking candid photos of you

- and you absolutely hate how they look but he thinks you just look so beautiful doing an essay or cleaning the kitchen

- also he’s a canon virgin lol, so i assume he doesn’t have much experience at all with girls

- maybe a first kiss, but still super nervous about making any moves on you like first kiss or even asking you out

- SUPER ! OBLIVIOUS !

- he doubts that you’ll ever like him so before you start dating and he has this big fat crush on you he’s like ‘oh she probably doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend’

- but he’s wrong (obviously)

- once he gets more confident with you and the whole relationship thing he’s a lot more touchy than you expected

- for ex: when you first start dating he’s shaking in his boots anytime he kisses you and would probably only kiss you in private, he’d be nervous to even hold hands omg

- but you’ve been dating for a while now, he won’t hesitate to pull you in for a kiss in the middle of a subway station, and always always has his arm on your waist, or is holding your hand. touching you in some way

- he loves cuddles !! he told me personally

- after a long day, there’s absolutely nothing we would rather be doing than cuddle up with you in bed :(

- he also definitely takes photos of you while you’re fast asleep on his chest. you can’t tell me that doesn’t seem like something he would do

- he also would take his phone out and use those snapchat filters that completely morph you into something else on you without your knowledge

nsfw headcanons for my thirsty girlies

- he’s so fucking nervous the first time

- mainly because it’s his first ever time

- but like the kissing, he gets more confident with it as the relationship progresses and would gradually start to show his kinks

- and he has an obsession with going down on you i don’t make the rules !!

- idk guys he gives off sub -> dom you know what i mean?

- i think it’s mainly because he’s a virgin lol

- and as i said he gets more confident in bed the longer you’ve been dating so i feel like he would eventually end up as a dom at some point

- i also just get the vibes

- he’s so so good at aftercare and takes it very seriously

- if you want a certain snack afterwards and he doesn’t have it, he will go above and beyond to find that snack for you

he’s so cute i wanna give him a kiss on the cheek

this is also kinda all over the place but let’s ignore that !!

[thats-my-passion-right-there]

More tag rants!!!!!!

I finally saw the mean girls musical (the movie one) I have so many fucking thoughts oh my god

[on-leatheredwings]

i can see yj!dick leaning towards the possessive aspect of being a yandere. not to say he isn’t violent… he’d print out photos of guys you talk to, hang them on a wall, and throw darts at them. maaaybe he’s a bit insecure in your relationship if you meet in the early seasons and he’s cocky and show-offish to compensate for his doubt. later though?? that boy knows you like him (who wouldn’t? he likes you more, though.) you know how he leaves the team behind a lot/goes off on his own? i feel like if you were part of the team and went on missions with them he’d only look back to make sure you were with him (still runs off when he sees you’re okay and aware, but he’s keeping an eye on you. covertly.) if you tell him that the stealthy laugh he does makes you feel safe/reassured, he definitely does it a lot more. if you’re less on the field and have a more passive position, like a doctor, he makes it a habit to get hurt more often. comes to you for the SMALLEST injuries so you can baby him. you tell him to gtfo (no you don’t cuz who could say no to him!!) he gets a scrape and comes crying to you about it he’s so silly… not sure what would happen with his canon relationships. maybe he’d still flirt and pursue relationships, but it’s definitely less genuine and more of a fill in type situation. gets broken up with once his partners realize they deserve better than someone who thinks of them as a rebound/stand-in (my true biases are showing maybe. cough zatanna cough barbara) less than a minor inconvenience to him but you better believe he runs to you every breakup, getting you to comfort him. (you turn your back for a second and his pout turns into the most sly grin ever. you turn back around and his eyes are full of unshed tears.) side note i don’t think he’s too hard to fluster early on. likes it when you get bold/assertive because he’s usually the one dropping hints lmfao. you’re still oblivious bless your heart but he’s making progress maybe? if you DO make the first move he’s speechless. (whelmed even!) not literally (unfortunately) because he never shuts up but he will be processing that for a while. side side note if you DO get with someone (cause i do usually imagine him with a reader that isn’t looking for a relationship) he’s doing background checks daily. i ALSO like to think that you know how crazy he is (not fully. but you’ve seen under his mask a few times.) besides, with yandere!dick i like to think that he eventually gets comfortable/lets you in enough to give you occasional glimpses of his lunacy (if you’re desensitized enough). if your living in gotham, you’re probably at least a little unfazed. plus, he knows how to make you agree with his views anyway. who cares if he rearranged that guys face! you didn’t see the way he was looking at you, really, it was for your own safety. don’t you trust him? he’s your robin, after all.

sorry for the paragraphs. he’s not even my favorite 😭

oh god this was a love letter to mine own heart i agree 10000%

he’d print out photos of guys you talk to, hang them on a wall, and throw darts at them.

hilarious imagery and so fucking in character help 😭

maybe he’d still flirt and pursue relationships, but it’s definitely less genuine and more of a fill in type situation. gets broken up with once his partners realize they deserve better than someone who thinks of them as a rebound/stand-in (my true biases are showing maybe. cough zatanna cough barbara)

YES!!!!! YES!!! i know some ppl may not like it but i think dick is most likely (out of the bat boys) to date around even after meeting you, but it's so empty hearted on his end

i like to think that he eventually gets comfortable/lets you in enough to give you occasional glimpses of his lunacy (if you’re desensitized enough).

HEHE i like the idea of that... i think yj!dick is def self-aware enough to kind of indulge in the darker parts of himself. as opposed to dick in other media, where it seems he has more restraint, imo. those parts still exist but he just chooses not to think about it that hard i think.

i kinda love the idea of reader seeing dick's more yandere tendencies and just writing them off like "oh~ he's just a little quirky, aren't we all!" they very much would just. either let themselves be convinced by dick or straight up gaslight themselves into doubting the depth of dick's darker side.

[loremaster]

happy belated mermay! i drew that final pic after i went with my family to the new england aquarium recently, and picked out something they had there for each of the nocturnal detectives - plus kurumi! more description (spoilers) under the cut:

kurumi - piranha! it fits her color scheme, and her little freckles… and well, you know *bites you*

yuma - emperor tetra. actually i lied this one wasn’t at the aquarium i had to look it up

yakou - anemone man. ouughhh so sillyyyy

desuhiko - tried to ID the guy I took a picture of and it looked closest to the crosshatch butterflyfish. could be wrong though.

halara, fubuki - i could not find the labels for either of these fish unfortunately

vivia - electric eel (yeah he’s there, look again)

———-

the mermaids were kinda based off these species, except fubuki changed to a betta fish. bred for glamour, not for function. she is out there living her best life tho!!! nothin gets this mermaid princess down!!!!

obviously squid shinigami (squidigami) is based off ursula. but also i liked her having squid tentacle hair. woomy!

i imagine it would actually be kind of a reverse ursula situation though (reversula?). poor unfortunate amnesiac yuma would go up to sea witch shinigami asking her for his memories back, but she reveals she was the one who took his memories in the first place, and they’ve actually already made a deal. which she’s not going back on, sorrynotsorry lol!!! of course he’s actually not a mermaid at all but a human under a spell to go investigate…. something underwater. idk. maybe the mystery labyrinths are still a thing in this universe?

vivia, i’m sorry to say, would be a hundred times more miserable than we ever see him in canon, because guess what. no books. he’d still have some sort of coping mechanisms like watching other fish, watching stuff above the surface of the water, wanting nothing more to join them and fly someday. (the dragonflies, of course, are a reference to the famous water bugs and dragonflies story.) he’d still find something to get distracted by… although if he had his forte he probably would ghost up to the surface and read whatever the humans are reading up above. i guess this would make him the real ariel of the story.

kurumi of course is still based on a piranha, because it’s cute. of course these fish shouldn’t all live together but whatever. it’s mermaids. she probably is still some kind of informant, and probably hangs out near yakou’s place a bunch.

i could see yakou running some sort of shop. or if he’s still into detective work, he’d probably need kurumi as an assistant since he’s uh. not much of a swimmer. (he claims he can too swim, but it’s really silly looking. google swimming anemone. you’ll thank me.) he considers those little teeny fish to be pests (or at least claims they are. they’re probably helping him hide some sort of secret in there.)

desuhiko is a wandering trader with a keen sense of fashion. he’s great at repurposing sunken sails into mer-clothing, not so great at making sales. also the fact that his hair is gelled is way more obvious when everything is underwater. he’s basically got a helmet.

halara of course puts up an intimidating front, but has a secret soft spot for cute sea creatures. i asked my irl friend what she’d consider ‘the cat of the sea’ and she said pufferfish. i do think they are very cute and make a lot of sense as an allergen. but i don’t think halara’s taste is limited to pufferfish only, no no no. they like anything cute.

fubuki has got to have been kept captive before the story - by humans? or other mermaids? but either way, now she’s free and having a blast exploring the deep blue ocean. she really wants to know what kind of exciting creatures live in the deep!!!

and that’s it. hopefully all this description makes up for being 2 days late to mermay LMAO. i guess now it’s merGAY

[only-lonely-star]

can you please do dating johnny cade NSFW hcs?

Dating Johnny Cade NSFW Headcanons !! 🚬

° . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . °

Neck kisses are his favorite thing ever. Obviously a little kiss here and there would be something he enjoys, but when you SHOWER him in kisses in that area he gets so turned on. If the two of you are relaxing together or something I just know he would get all antsy from the second your lips start grazing his neck 🙏🏼

I don’t see him being too big on aftercare or anything like that, I feel he’s more nonchalant with those kinds of things. BUT subtle words of praise would do it for him. Pulling you close or holding out an arm for you to lay on as you both recover is his idea of aftercare. From then on I imagine he’d put on a movie or something and just bask in your presence. “C’mere… you did so good - I mean it.”

He loves anything passionate. Meaningful touch is what truly gets him off. It’s canon in my mind that Johnny wouldn’t like hookups or anything, he’d like very passionate driven sex with his partner because he feels like he’s actually wanted. This also makes me think Johnny loves to take things slower. Gentle? Probably not, but slow and sharp movements for sure.

I can totally see him always being the quieter one, the more introverted one, and the listener in any dynamic. During intimate moments I can’t see him being vocal but hearing YOU is a different story. He wants to hear any noise you make whether it be a soft gasp or a sudden groan. It makes him feel praised in some way and he’ll try his hardest to keep that same energy up. Hearing the sounds he’s causing from you is a big turn on for him.

Sort of a follow up from the last one!! I can totally see Johnny wanting to be the ‘giving’ participant here. Of course he loves any kind of affection he receives, but it’s about you, not him. Knowing he can please you brings him pleasure in itself. It’s like a mental thing as well - Johnny would space out momentarily and just think of how he’s the one being able to see your vulnerable side like this. It makes him feel appreciative and gives him an ego boost as well. He would only take someone to bed if he had a strong enough connection with them.

His head is top notch. He’ll have you shaking and grabbing onto literally anything and everything nearby. He would look up at you and make eye contact just to pull away and pepper little kisses all over your body before darting his tongue back out. It’s canon guys, trust me 🤒

He loves being on top, but not to manhandle you around or anything (unless you like that of course, he’d try anything with you in bed). Johnny would like missionary just to have a good layout of your body in front of him. He’d rather watch you lay and allow him to admire you. He WORSHIPS your body during sex and isn’t afraid to run his hands along every inch of you.