#radio quiet zone

[kingzombear]

HAPPY MONSTER YURI PRIDE!!!! 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️

Oc Pride Posting yaaaay

Lucy is trans, Judy is nonbinary, and together they're Biblical Sapphics in love teehee 💘

[dragonuva]

Laaaaate af birthday gift for my bud @kingzombear

Also new Drago emotes for my server.

[pixie-inkk]

Spicy art trade I did with @kingzombear 🤘💜 of their lovely demon x angel yuri couple!!!

[montrosepretty]

{mentally preparing myself for a new social situation} I’m just like montrose pretty

[cowboysandcigarettes]

show me who you are ─

the mark of cain weighs heavily on dean's shoulders, affecting all of you. when the bloodlust becomes too much, you know you have to help him. in the only way you can think of.

cw ─ slight angst, mark of cain!dean, very slight mention of sa/non-con (not from dean), blood, gore, canon-typical violence, smut!, fem! reader, praise kink, dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, unprotected p in v, sorry if i miss anything else!

☆ 💿PORNSTAR - nessa barrett

i wanna hear you talking dirty,

i wanna see it on your face.

⭒

it was getting worse, you could all see it. you, sam, cas - hell, even crowley could see it. the mark was slowly killing dean, and it was only getting worse.

it wasn't as obvious at first, just small outbursts here and there, but surely enough, it became more obvious. he was more snappy than usual, spent more time alone, and he would zone out more, hands either clenched into fists or one was clasped tightly over the mark on his forearm.

you didn't bring it up to him, that was the silent agreement that you, sam and cas had come up with, and you obliged to it. so you didn't tell dean how the far away look in his eyes made your brow furrow and your stomach churn with worry, or how your heart broke every night when you could hear him wake himself up from his nightmares. you didn't tell him how seeing him struggle, and refuse help, was slowly but surely breaking you down, and you definitely didn't tell dean that you missed him.

sure, he was right there, just down the hall from you, close enough that you could hear him in the ungodly hours of the night, restlessly rummaging around his room, but he still wasn't there. not the real him, not the dean that you knew. the dean you knew was being held captive by that horrid mark that not only haunted his dreams, but yours now too. you missed your dean, the one who told stupid jokes that made you choke on your beer. the dean who grinned proudly whenever you correctly named a song on the radio and who would sing a long loudly to his favorite led zeppelin songs, glancing at you as he drove.

drives are mostly silent now, save for the hum of the impala, or the quiet background noise of the radio, but still never those homemade tapes that he loved so much. he doesn't drink with you anymore, though he still does it an unhealthy amount. he drinks alone in his room, or late at night by himself in the kitchen, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes staring somewhere far off. the only reason you even know this is because one night, when you couldn't sleep, you went to the kitchen for a glass of water and found him there, only to have him get up and leave with only a nod of acknowledgement to you.

it was killing him, and if you didn't do something about it, it was going to kill you too.

the hunt was supposed to be a cakewalk. it was just a nest of vampires not too far from the bunker, and dean insisted that he was fine, that the mark's screaming wasn't too much for him to bear and he was feeling good enough to go with you guys on the hunt.

after sharing a look with sam, you reluctantly relented, agreeing to let him come along under the condition that if he felt the bloodlust creeping in, he would back off and stay behind in the impala.

that leads to now, where you were currently kicking yourself for not doing recon before going in. the nest was bigger than you and sam had originally thought, there were probably double the amount of vamps than you had previously thought, and when you, him and dean had crept into the nest, one of the freshly turned ones - a child, no less - had spotted you and screamed, awaking the whole nest. and so here you were, wrestling with one of the female bloodsuckers on the grimy floor of the abandoned barn.

her dirt-caked nails raked down the sides of your neck, making you hiss in pain as you brought your knee up hard, hitting her in the stomach, effectively pushing her off of you. as soon as she was on her back next to you, you scrambled up, quickly grabbing your machete that the bitch had knocked out of your hands and turning back to her. without even giving her a chance to bare her fangs, you raise your bloodied machete over your head, bringing it down with a cry, cutting her head right off.

taking a second to breathe, you stand up, panting heavily as you brush some hair out of your face, turning your head to the side to spit out some blood, running your tongue over your teeth to get rid of the taste. your moment of rests is cut short though, when you hear a loud thud and the sounds of a struggle from the room next to you.

gripping your machete tighter and taking a deep breath, you rush out of the room you had been in, leaving behind the bodies of the three vamps you had killed. you sprint out the door, crashing through the room next door, your heart racing as you see sam in a struggle with two bloodsuckers.

you rush over, cutting the head off one before he even has the chance to fully turn around. the other one drops sam in surprise, turning to you and snarling, his disgusting rows of fangs glinting in the low light. using the vampire's moment of distraction, sam grabs his own machete and raises it, slicing the vamp's head clean off.

"you okay?" you ask, chest heaving as adrenaline courses through your veins.

sam nods, raising a hand to brush his hair back from his face, his own erratic breathing evidence of the fight. "yeah. yeah, i'm good. are you?"

"one of 'em got me good with her nails, but nothing fatal," you answer, tilting your head to show him the marks. he winces in sympathy, eyes raking over the angry red marks before he bends down to pick up a vial of dead man's blood. "where's dean?"

"not sure, i lost him once they jumped on us," sam says, brows furrowing as he pockets the dead man's blood, adjusting his grip on his machete. "maybe we should-"

whatever sam was going to say is cut off as a scream comes from the floor below. you and sam share a look, fear spiking in your chest before you both turn, racing out the door. you sprint through the hallway and down the stairs, sam right on your heels as you skip steps, landing shakily at the bottom. your eyes scan the landing, and you turn to call out to sam, but before you can get a word out, a hand grabs your arm, throwing you across the room.

you hear sam call your name behind you, but he gets cut off, and you assume that he has a vamp of his own to deal with. you push yourself up with a groan, but as your sitting up, a hand grabs your arm again, hauling you up and slamming you against the wall.

"well, would ya look at this," the vamp spits, his yellow stained teeth shown in a grin as he leans in, his putrid breath in your face making you want to vomit. "the winchester's brought their little girl toy. how nice of them to bring us a gift."

"go to hell," you spit, the words strained as his hand fists in the collar of your shirt, pressing against your neck as he raises you higher against the wall.

the vamp only grins wider, running his tongue over his small, cracked lips. his dark, greasy hair falls in front of his eyes, and his bloodshot blue eyes make him look crazed. he's bleeding from a fresh cut on his forehead, and you wonder if one of the boys had already got into it with him.

"ooh, and she's feisty," he snarls, smirking cruelly. he raises his other hand to brush his grime-covered fingertips over your forehead, running them through your hair.

you turn away from his touch, struggling in his vice-like grip as bile builds in your throat, but his smirk only grins, a low, dark chuckle leaving his crusted lips.

"that's just fine," he whispers, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he leans in to nose at your neck, inhaling deeply, ignoring your struggle in his grip. "i like it when they fight back."

his words make your heart pound, your chest tightening with panic, eyes wide with fear as you struggle in his tight grasp, arms flinging and nails scratching at anywhere you can reach, but he doesn't even flinch, his grip not loosening at all. you open your mouth to scream, hoping to get the attention of one of the boys, or anyone that will help you at this point, but the hand that was in your hair slaps over your mouth just as you part your lips, your scream muffled into his palm.

"ah-ah, be a good girl and stay quiet," he tuts, pulling back to bare his fangs to you. you just stare at him, eyes wide with fear as you continue to struggle in his hold. you squeeze your eyes shut as he leans in again, a tear slipping down your cheek.

"let her go."

your eyes snap wide open at the familiar voice of dean, gaze landing on him over the vamp's shoulder, relief filling you at the sight of him. he was standing there, blood splattered all over his clothes, face and hair, his grip white-knuckled on his machete. sam stands behind him, his own eyes wide with fear as they flick between dean and you in the monster's grip. you try to call out to them, but the sound comes out as a muffled whimper against the vamp's hand.

the bloodsucker turns his head to look behind him, his smirk faltering at the sight of dean. his fangs retract, but his grip on you stays vice-like.

"well if it isn't dean winchester," the vamp snarls, his hand over your mouth tightening slightly, making you wince. "come to save your little doll?"

dean's jaw clenches, his expression darkening even further as he stares at you and the vamp, taking a menacing step forward.

"i said - let her go," he growls, something dark flashing in his emerald eyes.

the vamp's eyes widen in fear at the look on dean's face, and his grip on you loosens slightly. that's the opening you need, and with all the strength you can muster, you bite down hard on his hand, simultaneously kicking your leg as hard as you can into his crotch.

the monster cries out in pain, his hands dropping you as they fly to where you kicked him. you fall to the floor with a small thud, catching yourself before you hit your head. you quickly stand up while the bloodsucker is distracted, and sam immediately rushes over to you, grabbing you and pulling you into his arms, backing you away from dean and the vamp.

"sam, wait, dean-"

"the mark's got him right now," sam cuts you off, his voice thick with worry as he holds you to him, soothing your trembling form. "we just gotta stay out of the way, there's nothing we can do."

his words sink in, and it's then you realize that the barn is quiet. your eyes widen in realization, and you turn your head to look up at sam, heart pounding in your chest.

"he killed them all?" you ask, your voice just barely above a whisper. sam's grim nod is enough to make you feel sick.

your attention is torn from that information as you hear the vamp cry out in pain, and when you look up, you see dean's got him on the floor, the vamp's head twisted at an odd angle as dean steps on his back, machete raised over his head.

"this is less than you deserve for touching her, you disgusting son of a bitch," dean spits, and you watch in horror as he raises his machete over his head, bringing it down in one smooth stroke, blood splattering across his face as he cuts the vamp's head clean off.

the barn is silent, save for dean's heavy breath and the pounding of your heart. dean's sleeve is torn, and you can see the mark pulsing an angry red, burning into his skin, the sight making your chest tighten even more.

dean doesn't move, he just stands there, chest heaving and eyes blazing as he stares at the dead body of the vamp, his knuckles white as he grips the machete, blood dripping from the blade onto the old wooden floor.

your heart aches in your chest, and you pull yourself from sam's arms, giving him a reassuring look when he tries to stop you. taking a deep breath, you take a small step towards where dean stands, your body still shaking slightly from adrenaline.

"dean?" you call softly, your voice gentle, trying not to startle him. you don't flinch when his eyes snap up to you, and though his body is still tense, you can see something soften slightly in his gaze when it lands on you. "can you put the machete down, please?"

to your surprise, he does as you ask, the blade falling to the floor with a clatter that echoes through the empty barn. you take that as an invitation to step closer, your eyes never leaving dean's as they follow your movements, his lips parted slightly as he breathes.

when you reach him, you tentatively reach your arm up, placing your hand on his arm, but he jerks back, sucking in a breath as he seemingly snaps out of whatever haze he was in. he takes a step back from you, eyes flickering between you and the severed body of the vampire on the floor.

"let's just go," he says, his voice hoarse and cold. with one last flickering glance up to you, he bends down to grab his machete before turning on his heel and walking to the entrance of the barn.

⭒

the drive back to the bunker had been silent and filled with a suffocating tension that made it hard for you to breathe. once you were back inside the bunker, it wasn't any better, dean not saying a word as he storms ahead, rushing off to his room and closing the door abruptly behind him.

you and sam don't say much as he checks over you for any serious injuries, and you for him. he just hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before heading to his own room. you follow suit, shedding your bloodied clothing in your room before grabbing a change of clothes and heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom, which the boys had agreed to give you as one of the few that had it's own bathroom.

in the shower, you turn the heat all the way up, scrubbing the blood from your stained skin, washing off the hands of the vamp who had grasped you. you rub until your skin is raw, and even though you did the other day, you shave, just to feel that sense of normalcy instead of the sickly unease that crawls in your nerves. you wash your hair twice, ridding yourself of the blood and dirt you had collected in the barn, sighing as the steam melted against your skin.

as you stood there under the burning stream, you thought about dean, about the look in his eyes, the empty way he had walked away from you, and all of the pain he had been going through since he had taken the god-forsaken mark. you knew that the guilt from succumbing to the blood lust weighed heavily on his shoulders, and you just wished that there was some way you could focus that anger, that need on something else. and that's when the idea came to you.

immediately, you shut off the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping your hair in it, grabbing another one to wrap around your body, rushing back into your room and grabbing a different pair of clothes than you had previously chosen. you trade out the old sweatpants for a pair of sleep shorts, large sweatshirt for an old t-shirt that you stole from dean months ago, and tossing your plain panties, instead grabbing one of your nicer pairs, a dark red lace number that hugged you perfectly, foregoing a bra.

you tried not to think about how ridiculous this was as you slip on the clothes, taking your now semi-damp hair out of the towel and running your hands through it gently, getting out the leftover tangles. you splash water on your face, drying it off with a towel as you look in the mirror, chewing on your lip as you decide whether to put a bit of makeup on or not. you decide yes, just throwing on the slightest bit of mascara and eyeliner, adding just a bit of blush, and swiping over your lips with your cherry lip balm, pursing your lips to properly coat them.

you lean back and study yourself in the mirror, cringing at the bright red scratch marks on your neck before taking a deep breath as you consider what you're about to do. fuck it, you think, go big or go home, right?

with those words of wisdom to yourself and one last deep breath, you turn and walk of out the bathroom, and then out of the door to your room, heading into the hallway, your bare feet pad on the concrete floor as you make the short walk just a few doors down to dean's room. you stop in front of his door, taking a shaky breath before raising your hand, hesitating for a moment before knocking softly.

you hear shuffling, as if he's getting out of bed, and then the door opens and he's suddenly in front of you, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the doorway.

your breath hitches at the sight of him, your stomach flipping as you look up at him. his hair is spiked and damp, reflecting the shower he probably just took, his stubble highlighting his jaw. his plaid pajama pants are slung low on his hips, just enough to show a sliver of skin between the waistband and the hem of his black t-shirt that hugs his shoulders tightly, stretching over his chest.

dean says your name in a low voice, tilting his head as he looks down at you. you snap out of your trance, flushing slightly as you realize you were caught staring. "what're you doing here?" he asks, and doubt pools in your chest.

"i...i have a proposal," you say, nervously biting your lip as you look up at him.

dean's eyes track the movement, his jaw clenching as he flicks his gaze back up to your eyes, brows raising in question. "a proposal?"

you nod, shifting anxiously on your feet. you take a breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you smile nervously up at him. "can i come in?"

he doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at you, pushing off the doorway and stepping back, allowing you to walk by him. you step into the threshold of his room, forcing yourself to push away the nerves as you stand in front of the bed. your eyes follow him as he closes the door behind you, walking over to stand in front of you, arms still crossed over his chest as he looks down at you.

"so, what's this proposal of yours?" dean asks, the rough timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. you snap out of it, meeting his gaze head on as you speak.

"okay, i was thinking about the mark, and the blood lust." you can see his jaw clench at the mention of the mark and your stomach flips, but you continue. "so i thought, what if...what if there was another way to channel that?"

something flickers in his eyes at your words, and he raises his eyebrows in curiosity. "what d'you mean?"

you swallow nervously, biting your lip as you consider what you're about to say. "before i say it, i just want you to know that if this makes you uncomfortable then i can just go and we'll pretend that this never happened and-"

dean cuts you off with a grunt of your name, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes at you. "just spit it out-"

"i want you to fuck me." the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, both yours and dean's eyes widening at the bluntness of them.

"you want me to-"

"fuck me," you restate, deciding to just go with your forwardness. "i was thinking about what the mark makes you feel, and how it makes you turn that into blood lust, but then i thought about what if you could channel it into something else. give you some other way to let go."

dean doesn't say anything, just stands there, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched so tight your worried he's going to break something as he stares at you, eyes raking over your features as if something in them is going to tell him that you're joking.

you look away as you flush under his stare, regret and embarrassment seeping into your chest. when he still doesn't say anything, you shake your head, biting your lip as you turn to head back towards his door. "i knew this was stupid, i'm sorry-"

dean doesn't even give you the chance to finish your apology as he grabs your arm and spins you back into his chest, pulling a gasp from your lips.

"stop doing that," he growls, and when you look up into his eyes, they're so dark it makes your breath hitch. his hand that's not gripping your arm comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, tugging it lightly. "drivin' me fucking crazy."

you're too dazed by his sudden proximity to respond, the woody, leather filled scent that's so purely dean invading your senses and making you dizzy.

"let me get this straight," dean says, his voice low and slightly strained as he thumbs at your bottom lip, his eyes glued to the action. "you want me to fuck you, to get rid of the blood lust?"

you nod, lips parting automatically as he tugs at your bottom one, eyes wide as you stare up at him. "yea-yeah. it would still be letting that energy out, just in a different way," you tell him, your voice slightly breathless.

"and you want that?" he asks, eyes lingering on the way your lips brush his thumb as you speak before slipping back up to meet yours. "you want me to let go with you, sweetheart?"

you nod again, swallowing thickly as your mouth goes dry at the nickname. even though you'd heard it from his lips a thousand times before, this time it felt different, heavier, and you felt it weigh on your heart. "of course, if it'll help you-"

"no," dean cuts you off, growling your name and gripping your jaw tighter. "i'm asking you if you want this. not if you want to help me, i'm asking if you want me to fuck you, because if i won't touch you if you don't want this."

"i want this," you answer without hesitation, your voice breathy and your eyes wide, pupils blown with lust as you look up at him. "i wouldn't do this if i didn't want it."

dean groans, eyes clenching shut as if it's physically paining him to hold back, and his hand on your arm slides around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest. when he opens his eyes again, the sapphire green that wormed it's way into your heart is almost entirely swallowed by lust-blown black, the sight making your heart stutter.

"if we do this," he starts, his voice dangerously low. his hand caresses your waist before moving to your hip, gripping the flesh tightly through your clothes. "i'm not so sure 'm gonna be able to control myself. i don't wanna hurt you."

you shake your head, eyes determined as you hold his gaze, your hands coming up to his chest, fisting in his shirt and pulling him impossibly closer. "you're not gonna hurt me, dean," you whisper, pushing up on your tip-toes so that your lips are a breath away from his. "i want this, i want you to let go with me. i want you to use me."

dean just stares at you for a moment, his hand on your jaw moving to cup your cheek as his eyes bore into yours, jaw clenched and nostrils flared. as soon as his eyes flick back up to yours, something snaps in him and he surges forward, crashing his lips to yours.

you moan at the intensity of the kiss, your hands moving from his shirt to wind up into his hair, fingers tangling tightly in the still damp strands. his hands are suddenly everywhere, moving from your cheek to grip your hair, the hand on your hip slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin, groaning against your lips when he finds that you're not wearing a bra.

your lips part instantly as you feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, moaning into his mouth as he tilts his head, running his tongue over your teeth before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. your head is spinning as your teeth clash, your hands in his hair holding him tightly to you, arching your body into his.

when you both finally remember you need air, you pull back with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your now swollen lips. dean rests his forehead against yours, his hands finding a place at your hips, gripping them tightly as he catches his breath.

"last chance to back out," he breathes, looking at you with hooded eyes that make your knees weak.

"not a chance, winchester," you whisper back, your voice equally strained as you pant softly, trying to force air into your lungs.

dean groans at your words, and without hesitation, he slams his lips back to yours, one hand fisting in your hair as the other creeps up your back, pulling your shirt up with it until he has to pull away to tug it off you, throwing it somewhere. his pupils grow impossibly larger as he takes in your bare chest, your nipples pebbling as they're exposed to the cool air. his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he's on you, surging forward and capturing one of the hardened buds in his mouth.

you yelp softly at the sudden action, the sound melting into a moan as you arch into him, hands grasping at his hair to hold him to you.

"fuck, dean─" you gasp, head falling back as his tongue swirls around your sensitive skin, his hand coming up to cup your breast that his mouth isn't currently ravishing. after he's satisfied with the job he's done, he switches, bringing his mouth to your other breast, his hand moving to cup and grope the one his mouth had just been working at, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

when you whimper his name as he bites at your bud, he pulls himself away from your chest with a pop, lips slick and eyes blown as he looks down at you. you stare up at him, eyes wide and lips parted as you pant, just taking in the sight of him, so worked up over you.

"fuck," he groans, jaw clenching as his eyes greedily rake over your flushed features, his spit-slick bottom lip caught between his teeth. your hooded eyes follow the movement, your faces close enough that you can feel his breath on your heated skin, which sends a shiver up your spine.

you've seen dean shirtless many times─patching him up, or when motel rooms got too hot, but this was different. now, his toned chest was heaving with heavy breaths, his tan skin flushed with desire just for you.

you're staring, lips parted as you pant heavily, your eyes greedily raking over every inch of skin he's offering to you. your hands twitch to reach out, to feel every ridge, dip and curve of his body, and you're too far gone to deny yourself.

you rush forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and attaching your mouth to his neck. your lips trail up his neck, sucking at a spot under his jaw that has him groaning your name in a way that makes your knees weak. you're sure you would've collapsed by now if dean's arms weren't wrapped so tightly around your waist you could feel his biceps flex against your skin as your mouth ravished his neck and up to his jaw.

you're craning your neck to reach his skin, and you're body feels so hot you're worried that it's going to burst into flames if you don't do something about it. the chorus of more, more, more chants in your head, fueling your trembling legs as the walk forward, walking dean backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed.

he falls to sit on the bed with a grunt, his grip never loosening around you as you follow him, crawling into his lap eagerly, moaning into his neck when his bare chest presses against yours. you arch against him as you bite and suck on his neck, lips trailing down to nip at his collarbone, leaving a path of spit behind you.

"shit─need t'feel you, baby," dean rasps, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly, grinding you down onto him. you whimper in agreement, reluctantly pulling away from his salty skin, licking your lips to savor the taste of him.

you sit yourself up on your knees in his lap, cupping his face in your hands as you tilt his head back to look up at you, your thumb tugging at his bottom lip just as he did to you before. just the sight of him sends a wave of aching desire between your legs, your panties growing wetter by the second.

dean looks absolutely wrecked. his plush lips are parted and spit-slick, swollen from your bruising kisses, the white of his teeth peeking through the brightened pink as he pants heavily. his hooded eyes are so dark, the mossy green almost completely gone as he stares up at you with such reverence it makes your pounding heart stutter in your chest.

his rough hand squeezing your hips brings your attention back to the moment as he turns his head into your touch, lips ghosting your palm, his eyes staying locked on yours.

"c'mon, sweetheart," dean groans, his voice almost breathless as he squeezes your hip again, the action almost pleading. "can't take this anymore, just need you, need t'feel that pretty pussy 'round me."

his words make you moan softly, but they snap you into action. you scramble off his lap, stepping back from the cage of his legs as you hook your fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts, bending over towards him as you tug them down, shimmying them over your hips and thighs until they fall to the floor.

dean's eyes hungrily watch your every movement, jaw clenching tightly and a low groan escaping his lips as the delicate red lace of your panties is exposed to him.

"son of a bitch," he mutters, his voice a breathless whisper so quiet you almost miss it.

feeling spurred on by his words, you step out of your shorts, leaving them on the floor as you stand between his legs again and start to sink down, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. but his arm shoots out to grab yours, stopping you from dropping to your knees with a grip so tight you think it might leave bruises. your pussy clenches at the thought, the idea of looking in the mirror and seeing the mark of him on your skin, as a reminder of this chance you may never have again, nearly making your eyes roll back.

"no, no," dean practically snarls, straightening you up as his hands go to the waistband of your panties, ripping them from your body with a ferocity that makes you gasp. "next time baby, i promise, i'll let you use your fuckin' gorgeous mouth on me, but right now i need to fuck that pretty pussy until you can't even think anything but my name."

a breath leaves your lungs in a shaky gasp, the filthiness of his words making your head spin.

"okay─" is all you can manage, your voice shaking as he tugs you back into his lap, groaning when he feels your bare, hot core against his still clothed and straining cock. he doesn't hold the position long though, because in a blink of an eye, he has you flat on your back, breasts heaving as you stare up at him, your eyes wide and needy.

you part your lips to comment something about how he still has pants on, but the words catch in your throat as a moan when his fingers suddenly swipe through your weeping heat. you arch your back against the mattress, trying to push yourself up against his fingers as they circle your throbbing clit, sending sparks of pleasure behind your eyes.

"that's it, that's my girl─ fuck, you're so fuckin' pretty," dean praises, leaning over you to suck one of your peaked nipples into heated mouth.

his words make you whimper, and your hips buck up desperately into his hand, chasing the burning pleasure he's making you feel. "shit, dean, please, please─"

your whines are cut off into a moan when he plunges the same fingers that had been working your aching bud into your sopping cunt, your walls instantly tightening around his digits.

"i know, pretty girl, i know," he croons, his raspy voice muffled against the heated skin of your chest. his plush lips trailing up to your neck, his stubble scratching at your sensitive skin as he noses under your ear, teeth tugging gently at your earlobe. "jus' give me one before i fuck you, yeah? wanna feel you come around my fingers before i fuck you stupid on my cock."

you whimper in response, tossing your head back against the mattress with a moan as he drives his fingers into your heat again and again, curling them just right to hit that gummy spot deep within you that makes your toes curl.

"oh god, oh god─" you babble, eyes squeezing shut as you feel the band in your stomach tightening, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. "dean, close, m'so close─"

your words only encourage him, his teeth tugging at your ear once more before he trails them up to your jaw, resting his forehead against your cheek. he presses his lips to the burning skin there as his thumb moves to circle your clit, making you cry out under him, your hands flaying to his shoulders, nails digging into the taut skin as you buck against his hand.

"yeah? y'gonna cum, baby? gonna soak my fingers like the good girl you are?" dean coos, lips moving against your cheek, letting his teeth graze your skin. "c'mon, pretty girl, cum on my fingers so this perfect fucking pussy can take me like she needs to."

you fly over the edge with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and spine arching as your orgasm crashes over you, stealing the air from your lungs. your legs tremble around him, and you can feel his smug smirk against your cheek, your mind too fuzzy to comprehend the words he mumbles against your skin.

his fingers don't stop, working your soaked pussy until your whining, squirming away from his touch as your eyes flutter open, mouth slack as you gasp for breath. your eyes flick up to dean as he moves his face to hover over yours, and his hand has moved but he's not saying anything, and he's just staring at you, and the reverence in his eyes makes you want to shrink, but there's nowhere for you to go.

"dean," you whisper, your voice still shaking and barely audible as your eyes search his, trying to read his expression. he still doesn't say anything, just watching you with his devastatingly beautiful eyes and making you feel like he's worshipping you with his gaze. "what's wrong? do-do you want to stop─"

"do you know," dean mumbles your name, cutting you off effectively. "how fucking beautiful you are?"

the unexpected compliment makes your breath hitch, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you're sure he can hear it. all you can do is stare up at him, and he's so close you can count every freckle on his impossibly perfect face, the moment so intimate it makes your heart clench in your chest.

"you drive me goddamn crazy," he continues, pushing himself up to stand between your legs that hang off the edge of the bed. his hands drift down to the waistband of his pants, pushing them and his boxers down in one swift movement, his eyes never leaving yours as he kicks them away. "you make me forget everything, y'know that? you make me forget about this damn mark on my arm, you're in my head and then suddenly, all the mark wants is you."

your eyes drift down to between his legs, your mouth watering as you see his cock, hard and heavy in front of you, already red and leaking precum. when you continue to stare, dean leans over you again, grasping your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"i mean, fuck, just look at you, sweetheart," he breathes, his gaze raking over you, lingering on your heaving breasts before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "look so fucking gorgeous...all fucked out 'n stupid just from my fingers."

you only whimper in response, the sound breathless and soft as your spinning head tries to process his words. "please, dean," you rasp, your pleading eyes searching his, lifting your hips up to try and feel hi until he groans softly, eyes fluttering. "need you, please, fuck me.."

he stares at you for another moment, his jaw ticking and you can feel his cock twitch against your inner thigh. he finally moves again, reaching out and grabbing a pillow, lifting your hips and placing it under you. when he decides you're properly situated, he settles between your spread thighs, grasping one tightly in one hand while the other pumps himself slowly. he leans over you, guiding himself to your weeping entrance as your hands fly to his shoulders, grasping at the hard muscles.

he suddenly stops just before his leaking head brushed your folds, the hand on your thigh tightening as his eyes flick up to yours. "condom?" he asks, his voice strained as he forces himself to hold back.

you shake your head, biting your lip as you watch the way his pupils dilate, the sight making your aching core clench around nothing. "wanna feel you, all of you."

"fuck," he groans, his eyes slipping shut as he pumps himself faster, lining up with your aching pussy again. "baby, you're gonna be the death 'f me."

you just hum in response, your eyes glued to where he rubs his red, swollen tip through your puffy folds. with one more squeeze of your thigh, he pushes in, punching harmonic moans out of both of you. your back arches, eyes rolling back as your tight walls stretch around him, the pleasurable burn making your nails dig into his skin.

dean watches you, eyes wide and blown so dark with desire he looks almost crazed, staying still as he lets you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. "that's it, look at you, takin' me so well," he praises, rolling his hips gently to see your reaction.

"ohh shit," you moan, a gasping whimper catching in your throat when he rolls his hips again. he grasps your hips with both hands as leans over you, his bare chest pressing against yours. he stays like that, keeping still longer than he did before, and it doesn't take long until your squirming under him, whimpering softly as you grasp at his shoulders. "move, dean, please─"

as soon as the plea leaves your swollen lips, his hips snap harshly against yours, making you cry out, your eyes flying open to meet his. your mouth goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream and your brow furrowing as he pistons his hips into you, changing angles slightly until he hits that gummy spot deep in you that makes you cry out his name.

"yeah, yeah, i know, pretty girl, that's it right there, huh?" dean's voice is strained, the words a groan against your lips as he licks into your slack mouth, making you mewl under him, the sound only encouraging him to go faster. "squeezin' me so tight, shit, perfect fucking pussy was made for me, fuck─"

he pounds into you mercilessly, your tight walls tightening around his cock, sucking him in as his tip hits your cervix, making stars flash in your eyes. you swear you can feel him everywhere. his hot breath against your parted lips, calloused hands gripping your thighs and sliding up to your chest to pinch and tweak at your hardened buds, his cock making you so full you swear you can feel him in your throat.

you can feel your release creeping up on you, your hands slipping down to grip his biceps, moaning when the muscles flex under your touch. dean seems to sense that you're getting close, and he moves one hand from your chest, trailing his fingers down your torso until he reaches your clit, rubbing tight circles on the aching bud.

the sudden overwhelming pleasure makes you cry out, eyes rolling back as you claw at his skin, broken mewls and gasps leaving your lips. "dean-!"

"yeah, fuck, beautiful, say my name," he groans, dropping his head to your neck, his hips never faltering their bruising pace. "want you scream it when you cum around my cock."

"oh shit," you gasp, hands flying to his back, nails dragging down his skin as you feel yourself getting dangerously close to the edge. "close, shit, m'close dean─"

"yeah, i know, baby, can feel you squeezing me." his fingers speed up on your throbbing clit, and with just the smallest bit of added pressure, the band in you snaps. hard.

you think you scream, but your brain shuts off as your orgasm crashes through you, the pleasure mind-numbing and paralyzing. dean continues to fuck you through it, his hips faltering as he feels your walls clamp down on him with your release.

"fuck, that's it. good girl, good fucking girl," he grunts your name into your neck, his voice strained as you feel him twitch in you, his thrusts just extending your orgasm and melting into another one. "you don't know how fucking long 've wanted this. your perfect fucking pussy gripping me so tight, fuck─ you were made for me, fucking made for my cock, never gonna let you go after this, ngh, you're mine now, sweetheart. all fucking mine."

he continues to babble as his hips falter, lifting his head from your neck to crash his lips to yours, devouring your mouth with his teeth and tongue.

"gonna cum in your tight fuckin' pussy, gonna fill you up, make you feel me for days." you whimper into his mouth, the two of you more so just panting into each other's mouths rather than kissing.

"please, dean, need it, need you so bad," you moan, feeling that band tighten once more. "wanna feel you, please, please─"

"oh fuck, gonna cum," he gasps your name into your mouth, his grip on your hips tightening, and somewhere in the back of your fucked out brain you register that there are definitely going to be bruises there tomorrow. "fuck, m'gonna cum─"

he thrusts once, twice, burying his face in your neck and then his hips still, pressing his cock as deep into you as he can get as he twitches, groaning loudly as he spills into you, his release hot and heavenly in your tight walls. the feelings sends you over the edge again, a weak, broken cry leaving you as your vision practically goes white with pleasure.

you stay like that, trembling and panting softly under him, your eyes hooded and hazy, your shaking hands slipping from his shoulders and falling to his biceps weakly. for a long moment, dean doesn't move, just breathing heavily into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your sensitive skin with every breath.

eventually, he shifts his hips, moving to pull out, and the movement makes you whimper from the oversensitivity. instantly, dean pulls back from your neck, his brow furrowed as he looks down at you, his gaze filled with concern.

"shit, did i hurt you?" he asks, and you can hear the panic creeping into his tone. "i'm so sorry sweetheart, i didn't mean to─"

you cut him off with a shake of your head, forcing your eyes to focus as you look up at him, a weak, fucked-out smile forming on your lips. "you didn't hurt me, dean," you assure him, your voice raspy. "i'm fine, just sensitive."

"oh okay," he says, nodding and lets out a breath as if he'd been holding it.

he takes another moment, eyes raking over your face again, and he looks like hes't going to say something, but he bites his lip, pushing down whatever it is. slowly, he lifts himself on his arms, pushing up so he's almost sitting, squeezing your thigh comfortingly as he pulls out. you wince slightly at the movement, shivering when you feel his release dripping from your spent cunt.

he pulls away from you completely, standing up and walking over to the corner of his room and your stomach sinks as you watch him rifle through his stuff. you knew this was coming, the part where he awkwardly mumbled a thank you and you take his rejection without a word, making the walk of shame back to your own room, and you never speak of this again.

you can feel the familiar burn of tears forming behind your eyelids as you push yourself up, placing your feet on the ground. you don't look up at him as you lean over, grabbing your discarded shirt from the floor. you bite your lip anxiously as you stand up from the bed, intending to put your shirt on only to stumble and sway as your weak legs shake under you.

"woah, woah─" dean's arm comes around your waist, catching you before you can fall and you lean against him without really meaning to sighing at the warmth of his chest. "where do you think you're goin'?"

he turns you in his arms so your chest to chest with him, and you keep your eyes glued to his anti-posession tattoo, not quite ready to look him in the eyes and see the rejection. "i'll just get dressed and go back to my room─"

"hey, what? no," he interrupts, confusion lacing his words. his hand moves to cup your chin, tilting your head up until you have no choice but to look into his eyes. his brow is furrowed, and you have the sudden need to reach up and smooth the crease with your fingers. "why would you do that?"

your lips part to speak, but no words come out as the intense emotions in his eyes steal your breath.

dean says your name in a low voice, his gaze roaming over your face as his thumb stroked your cheek gently. "did you think i was gonna kick you out?"

"i...i didn't think you'd want me to stay," you admit in a breathless voice, eyes wide as you stare up at him.

he doesn't say anything for a moment, just gazing down at you as his hand raises to brush some of your hair away from your face, and if hekeeps looking at you like that you think you might catch on fire. "i meant what i said."

the words are so simple, so blunt that you don't know what he's referring to. "what are you talking about?" you ask, slightly breathless as your brow furrows in confusion.

"what i said, earlier, i meant it," dean repeats, the hand that's not cupping your chin raising to your forehead, his thumb stroking at the crease between your brows, the tenderness making your breath hitch. "i've wanted you, wanted this for so long, sweetheart."

his words stop your heart, and you look up at him with wide, shocked eyes. you can feel your pulse pounding in your chest, your shirt in your hand falling to the floor as your lips part in shock. "you have?"

"yeah," he mutters your name, both of his hands moving to cup your face now, and you subconsciously lean into his touch, making him smile softly. "i have. i'm honestly surprised you didn't notice before. even cas said i was bein' obvious."

your head reels from his confession, the words processing in your still slightly hazy mind. "you...what?" you ask, still staring up at him with wide eyes.

"i mean, hell, how could i not want you?" dean chuckles, almost to himself as he gazes down at you. "you're smart, 'nd funny, and you could kick my ass any day of the week. not to mention you're so fucking beautiful it makes me weak."

"you...you really mean that?" you ask, brow furrowing in doubt. "you're not fucking with me?"

he shakes his head, smiling down at you as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks affectionately. "you, this...it's all ive wanted for a long time."

"i..." you start, unsure of what to say as you search his expression for any hint of him lying. when you find none, a smile matching his spreads across your lips, and you lean into his touch, bringing a hand up to rest over his. "ive wanted this too. for a while, actually."

dean grins at you─a real, wide, boyish grin that lights up his ethereal features, making your heart stutter in your chest. "i guess we're both idiots then."

"i guess we are..." you agree, pushing up on your tip toes to ghost your lips over his. you hover there, just breathing him in, eyes flicking between his before you close the gap, pressing your lips softly to his.

its nothing like the kisses you shared before. in fact, it's really just the gentle press of your lips to his, savoring the way his smile feels against you, and you suddenly don't know how you've lived your whole life without kissing dean winchester like this. you certainly don't think you can live without it now that you've experienced it.

after a few savored moments, you pull away, smile staying on your lips as your eyes flutter open. your hand slides along his arm, and you feel him tense when your fingers brush over the mark.

"i trust you, dean," you whisper, curling your fingers over the raised skin, squeezing his forearm lightly. "i know you would never hurt me, and i need you to know that im not going to leave."

"but-" he starts, but you cut him off by raising your free hand to press a finger to his lips.

"no buts," you counter, shifting your hand to cup his cheek, smiling lovingly at him. "just because you think you're dammed doesn't mean you actually are. because you aren't. no matter what you think of yourself, it will never change the fact that you, dean winchester, are the good man. the best man ive ever known, and ill be damned if i let you think any less than that."

"sweetheart..."

"stop. don't fight me on this─"

"i wasn't gonna fight you─"

"yes you were, i could see it─"

he says your name, low and serious, but there's still a soft smile on his face. "you're too damn good for me."

"what did i just say─"

"just let me say this, will you?" he says, giving you a look that makes you shut your mouth, eyes locked on his. he sighs, just staring at you for a moment before he speaks again, his voice softer than you've ever heard it. "youre too good for me, i know that. you're too smart, too kind, just too damn good. but damnit, i want to be selfish so bad and keep you for myself."

you just smile at him, eyes slipping shut as you lean up again to kiss him a little deeper than the one before, but still soft nonetheless. "you have me, dean," you whisper against his lips, your eyes still closed. "you've always had me."

"i don't want to hurt you," he mumbles, and you can feel his furrowed brow as he leans his forehead against yours.

"you won't hurt me."

"you don't know that─"

"yes, i do." your tone is sharp, and it makes his eyes snap open to meet yours again. at this proximity, you can see the specks of gold that flicker in the deep emerald that makes your heart skip a beat. "we'll figure this out, dean. we'll get through this and get that damn mark off you. we'll figure this out, together."

dean smiles at that, a soft, relieved curve of his lips that makes the corners of his eyes crease. he looks at you with so much emotion and affection that you want to just crumble into him and never let him go, hide him away from the world so that it can't hurt him more than it has. "together," he repeats, his voice a hushed whisper.

you can tell that he believes you, and the thought makes pride swell in your chest. you may not know much about your fucked up lives at the moment, but the one thing you know for sure is that you were never going to let dean go through it alone. ever.

a/n, this ended up being way longer than i intended, but oh well. anyways, i can't get moc!dean out of my head, so here we are... and happy late new years!

ps, the end was written at 3 in the morning (again) so i sincerely apologize if the ending is rushed

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - chapter 1

(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 3.9k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

The drive down to Miami was idyllic. Windows rolled down, you and Carter sang along to the playlist you’d made for the trip and ate your favorite childhood snacks. Blue skies above you as Carter’s new Jeep flew down the coast, you actually started to feel excited for the week ahead.

Then, you pulled up to the Airbnb, and it all faded.

The second you saw all of Carter’s high school friends in the driveway, unpacking their cars and exchanging hugs, it all came rushing back. The way you felt like you never really fit in, how they’d tease you for being quiet, how the boys’ eyes would skip right over you in search of your sister.

Carter turned down the radio when she noticed the way you were biting your lip with trepidation.

“It’s gonna be fun,” she tried to assure you. “Promise.”

You put on your best fake smile, determined to make this a good week for her. After everything she’s done for you, if all she wanted in return was a fun week at the beach, you’d give her that. You pushed your anxiety down as best as you could and hopped out of the Jeep.

“Oh shit!” Topper called, standing at the open trunk of his Range Rover. “Is that who I think it is?”

He rushed over, sweeping Carter up and throwing her over his shoulder.

“Put me down, Top!” She yelped, not entirely convincing that she wanted him to.

He set her down and smiled wide at her, just as smitten as ever. She gave him a playful pat on the head, like a dog, and went to get the bags from her car. Topper’s eyes shifted over to you and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“No way, Little Carter is that you?” He teased, using your least favorite nickname.

“What’s up, Topper?” You tried to sound unannoyed.

Before he could answer, still slightly gawking at you, another voice emerged from the front door of the house.

“Yo who is it, Top?” Kelce yelled down from the top of the front steps.

“Come see for yourself, jackass!” Topper shouted back.

Kelce hopped down from the top step and approached you in the driveway, throwing his arm around Topper’s shoulder.

“No fucking way,” he said, when it finally dawned on him who you were. He looked you up and down and added, “what do they put in the water at that fancy school of yours?”

“Smoothe, man,” Topper smirked at him.

Your cheeks burned, you rolled your eyes at them to try and seem unaffected. They had never talked to you like this before. The majority of your interactions with Topper and Kelce in high school consisted of them teasing you about Rafe and asking where your sister was. They never even came close to flirting with you, and now you couldn’t decide whether you liked it or not.

“Can you two stop drooling over my baby sister and come help me with these fucking bags?” Carter called to them from the back of her Jeep.

“Yes ma’am,” Kelce winked at you before going to help your sister carry in the hundreds of dollars worth of beer she���d made you stop to pick up on the way here.

“You assholes better pay us back,” she told them, passing Topper a couple of 12 packs.

“Okay, give me your sister’s number and I’ll Venmo her right now,” he responded with a smirk.

You actually laughed at that one, which caused his chest to puff out with pride. Boys had always been somewhat of a mystery to you, but these two were painfully easy. Their playfulness helped you relax a little, wondering if this week might not be so bad after all.

Once you were inside, you and Carter each chose your own rooms, all your recently opened trust funds allowing you to rent the biggest house in the neighborhood. After unpacking, you walked down to the beach with Topper, Kelce, a couple of Carter’s girlfriends, and a guy you’d never met.

Topper and Kelce introduced him as their friend from college, a frat brother. His name was Tom, he was on the taller side, brunette, super cute. The way his toned arms flexed in his sleeveless shirt was the first thing you saw, but his bright, dimpled smile is what really caught your attention.

When you told him your name, offering him your hand to shake, he held it for a few seconds longer than any of the other girls and Carter gave you a knowing look. You’d never wished so badly that you knew how to turn off your blush.

Once you got down to the water, you helped Carter set up the umbrella and volleyball net you’d brought. You played intramural volleyball for your college and had actually gotten really good at it, you were excited to play with Carter, who’d always wanted you to get into sports with her.

When everything was set-up, you started to take off the bathing suit cover you had on over your bikini, but quickly realized there was a problem.

“Shit, Car, did we even bring sunscreen?” You asked your sister.

“Fuuuuck,” Carter said with a careless giggle. “Guess we’ll just burn.”

“Um no, I’m not listening to you whine about your sunburn all week,” you scolded her. “Top, did you bring sunscreen?”

“I hate to say no to you, beautiful, but…no,” Topper answered.

“Great, so we have eight hundred Natty Lights but no sunscreen,” you huffed.

“Sounds like a perfect vacation to me,” Kelce joked, already cracking his first beer.

“I brought some sunscreen,” Tom offered helpfully.

“Ah, my hero!” you smiled at him playfully.

You could feel all eyes on you when you said it. None of them had ever seen you flirt so comfortably before, or really even heard you speak. This was the person you were at school, but they had never met her before. You cleared your throat, feeling uncomfortable.

“Could I borrow some?” You asked Tom, who appeared oblivious to the shift in atmosphere.

“Yeah, it’s up at the house, I’ll go grab it!” You watched him run up the beach, his toned back muscles flexing, Carter bumped her hip into yours.

“Five minutes and he’s already whipped for you,” she teased. “Told you this trip was a good idea.”

By the time Rafe finally pulled up to the house in his truck, all the rooms had been claimed except for the shitty basement, with its low ceiling and lone twin sized bed. After dropping his bags, scowling at the mildew smell in the small space, he filled one of the coolers he brought with some imported beers and white claws and headed toward the beach.

“Yo, Top!” He called from the back porch, beckoning Topper up from the beach to help him carry the heavy cooler.

“Jesus, what you got in here?”  Topper grunted, struggling to lift his side of the cooler.

“Nicer shit than anything you brought,” Rafe said. “I’m not drinking cheap gas station beers all week.”

“Fine by me man,” Topper added a second hand to the cooler to help him lift it.

As they carried the cooler down the beach, Rafe mocking Topper for his inability to lift his share of the weight, Rafe scanned the private section of the beach to take a manual headcount of his housemates for the week.

He saw everyone he expected, the same people that would gather at the island club every time there was a break from school, the party always finding its way back to Tannyhill. The same girls that hung around him and his friends in high school, Carter, who he had never gotten along with, Kelce, who he had seen just last week, and…someone he didn’t recognize.

The mystery girl was facing away from him, but he could still tell she was gorgeous. Her bathing suit wrap hugging her body, her shiny, bouncy hair flowing in the ocean breeze. She bent down to set up her beach chair and he nearly dropped the cooler. 

“Woah, man,” Topper laughed. “Now who’s got butterfingers?”

“Who is that?” Rafe asked sternly, ignoring Topper’s harassment. 

“Dude, are you serious?” Topper eyed him.

Before Rafe could ask what Topper meant, you turned around, looking up towards the house in his direction, shielding the sun from your eyes and smiling a big, beautiful smile.

This time, Rafe really did drop the cooler. It was you. He hadn’t seen you in four years, and nobody told him you were coming on this trip. Nobody told him you looked like that now, either.

Everything that happened between you was so long ago, but he assumed you still hated him. But now, you were looking right at him and smiling. His lips started to turn upward for a moment and he almost lifted his hand to wave at you, when someone bumped into his shoulder.

“Shit, my bad man,” Tom said, his eyes not even looking at Rafe, glued to you. He ran off and approached you, and Rafe realized with a punch to his gut, it was this random guy you were smiling at and not him.

Rafe and Topper dragged the cooler a bit farther down the beach, dropping it behind all the umbrellas. Rafe immediately grabbed one of his expensive IPAs and twisted it open, throwing back a sip bitterly as he watched Tom hand you something, you smiled and touched his arm gratefully.

Carter approached the boys and the cooler, following Rafe’s eyes to you. She twisted her lips, trying to hide her smile, everything about this day going exactly as she had planned.

“Hey, Rafe,” She smirked. “You good?”

Rafe looked at her, eyes narrow as he tried to catch her meaning. When he realized she had caught him staring, he cleared his throat and took another sip of his beer, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“Fine,” he mumbled.

Rafe reached in the cooler and grabbed a white claw, offering it to Carter. Things had always been chilly between them, though they’d still been cordial with each other. Aside from that big argument senior year which they never talked about. Now, it hung in the salty air so prevalently, your presence after all this time stirring up old tensions.

Carter accepted the drink with a thank you, cracking it open and looking back to you. Both Carter and Rafe’s eyes went wide when you took off your cover-up, revealing a barely-there bikini and the new body none of your high school friends had seen yet. 

Everyone on the private beach was staring at you, but Rafe was staring at you, his knuckles going white around his beer as he eyed you up and down. His heart pounded so loudly in his chest he was afraid Carter and Topper would be able to hear it. Then, when you handed Tom the sunscreen and asked him to rub it on your back, an unfamiliar feeling bubbled in Rafe’s stomach and crawled up to his chest. He glared at Topper.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” He barked.

Carter and Topper’s heads both snapped towards him, neither surprised to hear the usual edge in his voice, though while Topper looked at Rafe with concern, Carter’s face only portrayed pure amusement.

“Who, Tom?” Topper asked, watching as Rafe’s eyeline returned to you, starting to catch on to the source of Rafe’s irritability. “He’s a brother from Alpha Tau.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a high school reunion trip,” Rafe snapped at him.

“Wow, someone’s pressed,” Carter beamed at him, delighted in his discomfort.

“I’m fine, just didn’t know we could invite people, that’s all,” he insisted.

“Sure, Rafey, that’s all,” she goaded him.

Rafe and Carter gave each other a knowing look, Topper’s eyes flashing between them, utterly out of the loop.

“What did I miss?” He prodded.

“Nothing,” Carter assured him. “Let’s play chicken, you’re on my team, Topper.”

“Oh hell yes,” he dashed after her like an excited puppy.

Rafe ignored the interaction, eyes glued to you in the distance as you settled into your beach chair and pulled out a book, Tom leaving your side and heading toward the water to join the game that had started. Rafe smiled, of course you were reading while everyone else was partying. Maybe you hadn’t changed that much after all. 

The spine of the brand new book cracked as you opened it, you sighed happily, loving the sound. You rarely ever got to read just for fun, always so busy with schoolwork, and you were so excited to dig into the fluffy romance you’d bought off tiktok and turn your brain off.

But then, just as your eyes grazed over the first sentence, you heard a voice from behind you that made your sun-kissed skin go cold.

“Whatcha readin’?” Rafe asked, his tall frame casting a shadow over your sunbathing spot.

You had pretended not to see him when he arrived a few minutes ago, throwing your attention at Tom instead, who took it happily, no idea that he was just a distraction from the flips your stomach was doing at Rafe’s arrival. You actually thought for a minute you might be able to avoid him this whole trip, but of course, he was pouncing as soon as you were alone. He always preferred talking to you when no one was around, sharing hours of meaningful late night conversations together, yet ignoring you at parties and in the halls at school as if you barely knew each other.

You closed the book slowly and placed it in your lap, any clever words you had to say to him flew suddenly from your brain. Regret swept over you, it was foolish to think you could pretend to be unaffected by his presence. He’d said two words to you and you were already nervous, overthinking every movement you made.

When you didn’t answer him, Rafe took it upon himself to plop down in the beach chair next to you, leaning over to read the title of your book.

“Is it any good?” You still didn’t look at him, but you could hear the teasing smile in his voice.

“Wouldn’t know,” you looked down at your lap. “Just started it.”

“Well let me know what you think, might need to borrow it,” he kept his eyes on you, running over your body, making his own face go warm.

“Since when do you read?” You finally lifted your eyes to him.

Rafe’s jaw went slightly slack, all the swagger he’d brought on this trip with him suddenly disappearing. You were even prettier up close, your features more defined and striking than he remembered.

“People can change,” he finally mustered up, less bravado in his voice.

You gave yourself exactly three seconds to look at him, eyes sweeping quickly over his nose, lips, chin, anything but his eyes. His eyes were like a prison you’d once been held in, and you swore you’d never go back.

After your three seconds were up, you shifted your gaze to the ocean, hating that you wished you had three more to take him in. He was just as, if not more, gorgeous as you remembered. His features somehow sharp and soft at the same time. His lips pink and soft, skin a golden bronze even though the summer had just started. His hair was a little shorter now, but still long enough to stick up in the back in that messy way you liked.

The familiar red hue crept up your neck slowly, making its way to your cheekbones. You needed him to get up and leave you alone before you broke into an all out blush. You picked up your book and pretended to start reading again.

“You should go play with everyone else, looks like Kelce could use someone on his team,” you threw out, hoping he’d take the hint.

“What if I’d rather stay here and talk to you?” He asked, voice dropping just a hint.

You thought you could handle this, but you couldn’t. Was he seriously flirting with you right now? If you knew Rafe, the second you tried to flirt back, he’d grow uninterested and blow you off. With him, it was always like he convinced you to jump off a cliff with him, but then at the last second, he’d step back, watching apathetically as you fell all alone.

“I need to go unpack,” you said, standing from your chair and grabbing your book and beach bag, knowing full well your stuff was already neatly sorted in your room.

He looked up at you as you collected your stuff, and you hated the way you were sucking in your stomach. You spent four years working hard to love your body the way it was, and now, in front of him, all that self-consciousness came flooding back. 

You hurried away, catching Carter’s eye as you beelined for the house.

“Where are you going?” She said, slightly out of breath by the time she caught up to you.

“I can’t do this,” you explained, still walking fast.

“Wait,” she grabbed your arm, causing you to halt, hot sand burning your feet. “What happened?”

“He’s here,” you didn’t have to explain any further for her to understand.

“I know,” she said sympathetically. “But we knew he would be. We’re gonna ignore him, remember?”

“I don’t think I can, Car,” you sighed. “I think I should just go.” 

“No, please please please don’t go,” she begged. “I need you here. And you were having fun before, right? Tom’s cute! Just hang out with us and tell Rafe to go fuck himself.”

“That sounds more like something you’d say than me,” you smiled at her.

“Okay, fine,” she agreed. “I’ll tell him to fuck himself and to leave you alone.”

“No, don’t, I don’t want to cause any drama,” you requested.

“Well I think storming out twenty minutes after we got here would be pretty dramatic,” she argued.

Your lips in a tight line, you gave her an annoyed look, but she did kind of have a point. Everyone would ask why you left, and how would Carter explain it to them? Plus, you didn’t want to give Rafe the satisfaction of knowing he affected you this much.

“We’re about to play volleyball,” Carter said. “Come show them what a beast you are now! And then after you kick everyone’s ass, if you’re still miserable, you can leave and I’ll tell everyone you got sick.”

You squinted back at the group on the beach, considering her offer. Topper and Kelce were wrestling in the sand, somehow both losing. You smiled affectionately at their antics, you were really enjoying hanging out with them before Rafe got here.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “One game.”

It took half of one volley for you to get comfortable, head fully in the game. You were tempted to put your cover-up back on before playing, well aware of Rafe’s eyes on you through the net, but you decided not to, determined to love yourself the same way you had grown to when you thought you’d never see him again.

Tom was on Rafe’s team, also eyeing you through the net, but with a much more innocent, friendly expression.

“You’re pretty good!” He said when you’d spiked a ball into the sand right next to him.

“Thank you,” you smiled sweetly. “I play at school.”

“Hey man, stop flirting with our opponent and focus,” Rafe snapped at him from the serving line.

Tom just raised his eyebrows at you in amusement and mouthed “I’m in trouble.” You giggled and Rafe seethed, slamming the ball so hard on his next serve that his hand was red. 

After a few more volleys, you had rotated until you and Rafe were face to face across the net again. As you waited for one of your sister’s friends, Sabrina, to make her third attempt at serving, Rafe eyed you up and down.

“You look good,” he said quietly, so only you could hear.

It lit a fire in you, but not the one he was hoping for. You locked-in, bent low in a competitive stance, ready for the setter to tee you up. When Sabrina finally made her serve, you went all out, diving in the sand and running all over the court to keep the ball in play. Rafe’s athletic instincts took over, and he met every one of your attempts to score with a firm block. Eventually, your lungs burning with your heavy breathing, Rafe spiked the ball and you slipped in the sand, letting it get past you and land next to your feet with a thud.

You looked up at Rafe, who was high fiving his teammates and looking down at you with a smirk. He ducked under the net and reached out a hand to help you up.

“Sorry, kid,” he grinned as he lifted you to your feet. “I’m just that good.”

Kid. It all came back as you stared at him. The hours spent in your car, waiting for him dutifully. All the late night texts that meant everything to you and nothing to him. The cheek kisses and side hugs that fueled your fantasies. His hands around Cassie’s waist as he kissed her in broad daylight, though he’d only talk to you behind closed doors. 

Your cheeks turned red as they so often did, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment, it was from anger. He wouldn’t make you feel small anymore, you wouldn’t let him.

You turned to your team to fire them up, “let’s go, fucking lock in guys! You got me Top?”

Topper nodded with excitement, loving your new energy, as he got ready for his turn to serve.

“Fuck yeah, I got you, captain,” he saluted you.

Topper served. Rafe tried to dominate again but you were two seconds ahead of him on every play. Now it was you that had him diving around in the sand like an idiot. The smug smile wiped from his face, his jaw now clenched in frustration as he grunted with effort every time he hit the ball.

You were on fire, un-fucking-stoppable. After a few more volleys, your team was winning, one point from game.

You wiped the back of your hand across your forehead and down your neck, flicking off the sweat that had pooled. You felt two sets of eyes on you, Tom’s and Rafe’s, but you didn’t care, laser focused on your next play. When you lifted off the ground, body stretching to reach for the ball, you threw every frustration into the hit, hand colliding with the ball as hard as it could. Rafe dove, but he couldn’t get it, he crashed down hard, sand flying in his face as he whiffed, and you won the game.

Your side of the net broke into cheers, high fiving and whooping obnoxiously. Tom approached the net to offer his sportsmanlike congratulations, but you didn’t notice him, already making your way towards Rafe, who still sat defeated on the ground, eyes burning from the sand.

He smiled as you approached, reaching out his hand, thinking you were gonna help him up. But you just stepped around him, bending down, lowering your voice so only he could hear as you said,

“Sorry, kid, but I’m better.”

You left him sitting there, hand reaching for nobody like an idiot, dumbstruck and down bad as you sauntered up the beach.

(chapter 2)

a/n: I know I literally just posted the prologue but I didn't want to wait to get into the actual story. I'd love to hear what you think and where you want to see the story go! xoxo

please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[sugoi-writes]

Hi, i have a proposition for you...

Alastor catching himself bleating whenever reader touches him 👀

(i just find it so adorable when he squeaks like a little fawn when Rosie pulls him in that one scene and the theory that he does that only when he's happy and with a person he feels comfortable with)

Gdhdhd I had discovered this a while back, and the idea THRILLS me. To no fucking end! I hope this is okay and worth the wait! (Two Fics in one week? HUH?)

No warnings for this one! Just cute cute fluff (I'm doing my best! ;w; gdhdhdhd)

A Bleating Heart - Alastor x GN! Reader

You were reading your book in Alastor's armchair, taking in the heat that radiated from the mint green flames of the fireplace. When you heard a groan to your rear, you paused. You looked behind you, only to see Alastor tossing and turning onto his side. You couldn't help your frown, watching as Alastor's brows furrowed. The Radio Demon was frustrated, his cheek smashed into his pillow aggressively. 

"...everything alright, dear?" You ask softly, recalling that he was 'laying down' to get rid of his headache. Though you knew that Alastor wasn't one for sleep, you kept quiet and content all the same. But when he shook his head, pointing directly to it, you understood perfectly. 

" 'Antlers still bothering you, huh...? Headache?" 

Alastor hummed lowly, turning over and laying face down into his bed. While he was muffled by a pillow, you could barely make out what he said:

" I loathe shedding... It hasn't even begun, and-- oh, they itch-- to no end..." 

"And I assume that doesn't help your headache either?" 

Alastor grumbled, unable to be upset at your gentle pestering. You doted on him like his mother, a quality he would never admit to loving about you," ...Not a lick, dear..." 

You innocently stand from the armchair, walking over to Alastor's bedside," Would... Would it helped if you laid your head in my lap?" 

Alastor raises his head up slightly, eyes narrowed," I hardly see how that could help in this predicament..." You sigh, gently rolling Alastor over onto his back before sitting in the space he used to occupy. Begrudgingly, he did not stop you, but his eyes followed you cautiously. 

"Just trust me... Okay?" 

Alastor's expression soured. Trust is a hard-earned thing to receive from him. The Radio Demon, in all his glory, was slow to make acquaintances, and slower to give out trust. But, he relented, allowing you to sit beside him comfortably. When you patted your lap expectantly, Alastor complied. Due to his antlers, he awkwardly laid sideways on his bed, knees rising and coming together as his head finally met your lap. Thankfully, you would not be disemboweled by his accursed antlers tonight. 

When you smiled down to him, Alastor simply closed his eyes, unable to look your way without feeling embarrassed. This was well outside of his comfort zone. He was feeling incredibly vulnerable while his body did everything to antagonize him. He felt like he was between a rock and a hard place, despite your plush thighs cradling his head.

However, when he felt your hand brush against his hair, scratching gently, his throat ran dry. All nerves and stiffeness became lesser; like the rest of his senses, they became dulled. 

The touch was... Foreign, soft... But not unwelcome. It was soothing, even. When you continued to touch, your hands working in subtle circles against his scalp, he couldn't help the quiet, pleased hum that left him. 

" 'Feels good, my buck?" 

Alastor cracked one eye open, his smile wavering,"...please don't make me say it out loud," Alastor said quietly, a chuckle rising in his throat. You shrugged, not minding his shyness. 

"Hmm, it would be so much cuter if you did, though~" 

When your hand moved to an antler, scratching gently at the base, a full-body tremor ran through his neck down to his hooves. His knees knocked together, a quiet, animalistic noise tumbling out of him. You blink a few times, surprised by the noise, and decided to repeat the action. When a meek, content bleat hit your ears, your eyes nearly doubled in size. You were beaming down at Alastor, a large, giddy inhale expanding your chest. Your heart throbbed at the subconscious gesture. 

Meanwhile, Alastor's eyes were slammed shut, much tighter than before. His heart was racing with anxiety, his palms suddenly feeling clammy. 

Why. Why now, of all times, could he not keep his pathetic little ticks at bay? Of course he found comfort in your company, but-- 

...Maybe he should have used his words, after all. 

"Alastor, was that...?" 

"If you value your life, you will never speak of this again." 

You throw your free hand up defensively, a coy smile on your face," Oh sure, sure... Of course. Whatever you say, Alastor." When a second hand joined the other, lightly scratching at the base of his other antler, that small, high pitched bleat bounced right out of him. 

"Mmm... Yes... Yes, not a word, mon ange... Not a single word... but this-- this is fine for now..." 

You chuckle, increasing the pressure you applied as Alastor melted into your touch. 

"If you continue to be this adorable, I would never speak again, if it meant you stayed like this forever~" Alastor's hands folded together, laying on his chest. Soon enough his knees fell apart, creating a wide 'v'. He looks to you with both eyes as his brow twitches. 

"And what fun would that be? I rather enjoy our conversations, cher." You nearly snorted, surprised that Alastor didn't realize you were joking. 

You laugh, your shoulders shaking with an effort to be quiet as Alastor's legs finally gave out, hanging lazily off of the bed. When your hands moved higher up his antlers, you noticed his legs swinging back and forth idly. You wondered if he noticed, or if this was yet another subconscious action. 

" Fine, fine... I promise to keep talking~ but only if I get to keep spoiling you like this." 

Alastor feels his heart squeeze at the notion, a warmth spreading across his cheeks and ears. He refused to confirm or deny your request with words, instead shimmying his shoulders to sink further into your lap. An open-mouthed sigh was your only response as you lightly dragged your nails across one of his points, his hands untangling from one another. His body almost felt like liquefied, completely and utterly relaxed, taking up an obnoxious amount of space on his bed. And for once, he allowed himself a moment to enjoy it while in someone else's presence. 

He felt safe... Immensely so. But he would never profess to that to you so soon. 

For now, he was content with you playing with his hair, scratching his irritable antlers while he listened to you speak. Quite frankly, it wouldn't take long for Alastor's mind to shut down, his body losing the fight to slumber. When you noticed his breathing toggle to a steady, silent repetition, you resigned yourself to being a pillow. If you were honest, you would sooner die again than move from that spot. You would only permit that once Alastor woke up again, head clear and eyes soft... You wondered how he would look waking up, the adorable thought alone making you feel a surge of glee.

You didn't mind the sensation of pins and needles settling in your legs, knowing that this was a rare moment. Why interrupt something so fleeting? So precious?

You couldn't help but watch as Alastor laid in your lap, unmoving and completely slack. You decided you wouldn't tell him about how he lost his smile while he slept. In the rarest of moments, his lips were agape, formed into a flat, horizontal line. You'd tuck that secret into the back of your mind for safe keeping... A fond memory you'd hang on to for the rest of your afterlife. (A secret almost as precious as his quiet snores, which started when you played with his hair again.) You almost squeaked when Alastor bleated again, much softer than when he was awake. Yes, it would be best if you never mentioned it... Alastor would die from sheer embarrassment alone, you think.

You let out a tired yawn, your mind wandering. Honestly? If you were really, truly in Hell... Well, this was a pretty splendid way to spend it, wasn't it? Why seek forgiveness and redemption, when your entire world was in your lap? And with that thought in mind, you decided to get some sleep, your head resting against the cool wood of Alastor's headboard. 

[agentstarkid]

IF IT MEANS YOU ✦ AZRIEL

✦ SUMMARY: Love is not afraid of the dark—it reaches for it, soft yet unyielding. Some things are worth breaking for. Some things are worth staying for. Even when the night threatens to consume them whole.

��� WORD COUNT: 1.0K

✦ WARNINGS: angst is a given, fluff is a bonus; feelings of inadequacy — english is not my first language!

✦ MAY'S RADIO: holiiii, this is my first time writing for mr. azriel mcthottie 😌 i've been dying to write with/for him for a while now, but i was—am—too scared to dive into his world. BUT this is me forcing myself to get a little out of my comfort zone and it wouldn't be me if i didn't bring the angst to the party 🤭

< back to general masterlist

The night was thick with shadows, the velvety darkness wrapping around them like a cloak. The stars above Velaris flickered behind shifting clouds, casting fleeting silver glows over the rooftops. But Azriel’s expression remained unreadable, the golden light from the streetlamps barely reaching the sharp planes of his face.

His scarred hands were clenched into fists at his sides as he took a measured step back.

“You never should’ve trusted me.” His voice was rough, fractured. “I destroy everything I touch.”

The words sliced through the air, through the fragile space between them, but you didn’t flinch. You stood your ground, heart pounding, refusing to let him disappear into his own darkness again.

“Maybe I’m okay with being destroyed if it means staying with you.”

Azriel sucked in a sharp breath, as if your words had physically struck him. His shadows curled around his shoulders, restless, uncertain. But beneath them, his wings trembled. He was unraveling, torn between pushing you away and pulling you closer.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice nearly lost to the wind.

“Then make me understand.” You took a step forward, closing the distance. “Show me.”

His throat bobbed, shadows clinging to his skin like ink, but he didn’t move away this time. And when your fingers brushed his, his hand curled around yours—not in destruction, but in something achingly close to surrender.

Azriel’s grip tightened around your hand, calloused fingers rough against your skin. He was holding on, despite everything he had said, despite the war raging inside him.

Azriel exhaled, his forehead still pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. His shadows curled around you both, hesitant yet unwilling to pull away.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he whispered.

You tilted your head, forcing him to look at you. “I know exactly what I’m saying.”

His jaw clenched. “You think you do now, but one day, you’ll see. You’ll wake up and realize I was never meant to be yours. That I was never meant to have this.”

Your heart ached at the quiet devastation in his voice, at the way he said it like he was certain—like he had already accepted losing you before you’d even had the chance to be his.

So you stepped back. Just enough for his hands to slip from your waist, just enough for the night air to stretch between you. His brows furrowed, his hands twitching like they wanted to pull you back, but he forced himself to stay still.

“If that’s what you really believe,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the war raging inside you, “then tell me to leave.”

Azriel’s lips parted, but no sound came out. His wings twitched, shadows curling around his fists.

You waited.

Seconds passed, stretching into eternity.

His throat bobbed, his jaw tight, his hands shaking.

But he never told you to go.

Instead, his voice broke as he whispered, “I can’t.”

And that was all you needed.

So you closed the distance again, pressing your palm over his racing heart. “Then stop trying to push me away.”

Azriel’s breath was ragged, his wings half-spread like he was preparing to bolt—but he didn’t. His hands hovered at his sides, clenched into fists, as if letting himself touch you again might truly make his worst fears come true.

Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to stay steady. “You keep telling me I shouldn’t trust you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “That you destroy everything you touch.”

His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

“So destroy me, then.”

Azriel flinched as if you had struck him. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You searched his face, looking for any sign that he would stop running. “I meant what I said, Az. Maybe I’m okay with being destroyed if it means staying with you.”

He let out a ragged breath, his wings trembling. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Don’t I?” His heartbeat thundered beneath your touch. “I know you. I know you’d rather tear yourself apart than hurt me. I know you love me.”

Azriel’s entire body locked up, his breath catching. His hands twitched at his sides, as if he wanted to pull you in, to keep you against him, but still, he hesitated.

So you made the choice for him.

You pushed up on your toes, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Soft. Gentle. A promise.

“I’m not afraid of your darkness,” you murmured against his skin. “But I think you are.”

Azriel let out a shaky breath, something crumbling in his expression. And then, finally—finally—he let go of whatever was holding him back.

His lips crashed against yours, kissing you like he was afraid you would disappear—like he was afraid he would disappear if he let go. His hands, so hesitant before, now gripped your waist with something close to desperation, fingers pressing into your skin as though anchoring himself to you—like he needed to be sure you were real, that you were his.

Your own hands slid up his chest, over the smooth leather of his fighting leathers, feeling the way his heart thundered beneath your palm. He was warm, solid, real.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was uneven, his eyes darker than before. His wings had curled around the two of you, shielding you from the rest of the world, as if this moment was something sacred.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, voice raw. “How to be this.”

Your fingers traced the scars along his knuckles, grounding him. “Then let’s figure it out together.”

His throat bobbed. “You deserve better.”

“Hmm. Maybe, maybe not,” you teased, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “But I don’t want better. I want you.”

Azriel exhaled sharply, like your words had knocked the air from his lungs. For a long moment, he just looked at you, like he was memorizing every detail, every piece of you that had chosen him despite everything.

Then, something in him shifted. His shadows softened, no longer swirling with unease but settling around you both like a whispered vow.

“I don’t know how to be the person you deserve,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours. “But I’ll try.”

And this time, he didn’t let go.

< back to general masterlist

[stilinskibaby]

brother's best friend.

PAIRING : stiles stilinski x mccall!reader.

CONTENT : fluff ๑ angst ๑ smut

it started out as a childhood crush, as most longterm infatuations do. you couldn't have been older than four when you met stiles, your stiles. he was missing his front tooth and he spoke with a lisp.

he was wildly loud and animated and you know when you're a kid and you think a boy is so cute that you're sure there's hearts in your eyes. he spoke of playing dragons and knights with scott, “oh! and you can be the princess.”

it was a memory that you kept crawling back to, a time much simpler than now. you could have let out a cold laugh, now you were in constant fear of your life, scott’s life, stiles’ life. it wasn't anything you couldn't handle but you wished for the times when all you had to worry about was your silly schoolgirl crush on stiles.

today was surprisingly quiet, just defeating peter and dealing with the deadpool, you were tired. all of you were, but you kept an eye open just on the off chance that something would try to kill one of your friends.

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, and dotted some concealer under your eyes, anything to make it look like you got some sleep last night. you didn't have scott’s powers to fall back on, nor lydia’s intelligence and intuition. everyday you wondered if you'd be another human lost in the fight against the preternatural.

you tried to wipe the thoughts from your head before walking down the main hall of the high school, stiles stood leaning against his locker while your brother talked about god knows what.

you walked up to the two of them and tried to act normal. like stiles isn't a whole foot away from you, like his cologne isn't enough to make your knees quiver, like every little wink, smile and joke doesn't make you wanna beg him to love you.

you'd been dealing with this crush for as long as you have memories, it should be easier by now. it seemed like lately though, it was getting harder. almost like he was purposefully invading all your thoughts.

“helllloooo?” you came back to the present because of stiles’ voice and scott's hand waving in front of your face. your skin warmed from the embarrassment of getting caught zoning out.

“what? sorry, I'm just tired,” you sighed, seemingly having said that alot recently. but dealing with what you can only assume to be a unrequited crush is tiring. especially when that crush happens to be on your brother's best friend.

stiles eyes squinted with disbelief. if there was one thing you hated about the boy, it was his ability to tell when anyone was lying.

“right, anyways,” scott continued eyeing you from the corner of his eyes but you were already zoning out again.

your day continued on like that, just skating by with your mind constantly drifting back to stiles. it felt almost like you were cursed, your brain almost short circuiting whenever you tried to think of literally anything else.

before you knew it, as if on airplane mode you found yourself walking out the doors towards the jeep. since scott started working at the clinic, you'd just been riding home with stiles. and due to the supernatural nature of your life, it's easier this way.

you climbed into the jeep and tried to keep a semblance of calm. stiles scent was invading your nostrils, with his lacrosse gear in the back seat and him sitting directly next to you. a soft song played on the radio, and if your emotions weren't getting the best of you ; you'd romanticize the man before you.

you were almost never quiet when left alone with stiles, it almost like you don't know how to shut up when around him. so the silence filling the jeep was becoming a bit much even for the hyperactive mind of stiles stilinski.

“you sure you're okay, sunshine?” his hand awkwardly patted your leg. stiles has been calling you sunshine forever, it's yours-and-his special little thing and even when you feel like the world is crushing you, it still gives you butterflies.

you had be around ten, you sat on the bus one seat in front of stiles and scott. stiles was talking mindlessly about lydia ( 12 year olds and their crushes ). and some kid was in the seat in front of you talking about how weird you were. being just a kid, you were almost to tears until stiles heard what the unkind words sprouted from the kid’s mouth.

“you don't even know what you're talking about! she's like sunshine.”

you found yourself blushing and feeling embarrassed, just for the kid to start making fun of you and stiles.

you let the silence hang a bit longer, trying to buy some time to tell a somewhat believable lie. the jeep came to a stop in front of stiles’ house. your eyebrows knit together trying to remember if there was some prior agreement that you forgot about.

“i think i know exactly what you need!” stiles spoke excitedly, and your heart felt like it was gonna fall out of your chest.

“a-and what's that?” you tried to convey a sarcastic tone but your voice shook as spoke. you prayed to whoever was listening that he didn't notice.

his eyes scanned your face as if trying to pry into your mind and it would give him all the answers. “movie night! i know we haven't done one in forever, but i think it'll help get your mind off whatever is bothering you. I know scott is usually here for this,” he sighed a little and rubbed the back of his neck.

your heart warmed, you couldn't believe the absolute kindness this boy had to offer. though every moment around him, was a kick to ego and a kiss for your heart.

“thank you, stiles,” his hand still awkwardly sat on your thigh, burning a metaphorical hole through your jeans.

he grinned that big smile, the one where his whole face turns into pure joy. it took everything in you not to just kiss him right there. and right as you began to get the courage he pops open his door and falls out the jeep. you chuckled to yourself bitterly.

you followed him into his room where you plopped yourself down on the bed. “so what's on tonight, star wars again?” you giggled as you watched him fumble through his dvds.

“actually, i rented heathers last night just for you, i know it's your favorite!” this boy was going to kill you.

and just like old times, he made popcorn and let you lay on his chest. you thought you might throw up. watching your favorite film, with the biggest crush of your life and it started to feel like you were suffocating.

you sat up anxiously, leaning against the wall, stiles’ head lazily rolled to the side, watching your every move.

“stiles,” your voice shook, your lips quivered and you were rubbing your hands intensely.

“hey! woah, hey, it's okay, whatever it is, it's okay, what's got you so upset? did you kill someone or something?” he tried to joke and relieve the tension and at this moment you think that might be an easier conversation.

“no, no, nothing like that,” the Perception of rejection was getting to you, an anvil falling on your heart. you laughed bitterly, “actually, now it feels so dumb. i just, stiles, i-i love you. i love you so much and i cant, i tried to swallow it and for a while that worked,” you were basically sobbing now eyes closed and lip shaking and you were about to lose your breath.

“but i can't, and I can't keep pretending i dont, but it's killing me and that feels dramatic but please, please don't hate me.” he knew this was very serious for you, a girl that almost never let anyone see her cry. amd he didn't mean to, and he feels so bad for it but he laughs, it just thr awkwardness that's in his bones.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, please I didn't mean to laugh, but i guess it just seems so silly to me that you wouldn't just tell me or someone and let it get so bad.” he pauses almost like he's trying to find his words. and all you can think about is running, running as fast as you can but his hand is on your leg and you'd feel so bad for it.

“i can't believe you could be so oblivious, I've been trying to hint to you for years now that i felt the same,” you didn't let him finish his sentence instead, doing what you've always wanted to do : kiss him. your lips mold together perfectly, you felt so far away, like you were in a dream.

the dream felt more hazy, when his hands find your hips and pull you into his lap. you can feel his cock hardened underth you, restrained by his jeans. you grind against and whimper into his mouth.

“stiles, stiles if you don't do something right now,” your words were breathless, somewhere between a whimper and a whine. his fingers move quickly to undo his jeans, while you shed yourself of everything but your bra and panties. you always wore cute panties in a secret way to manifest this happening.

as soon as he has you below, his hands are moving to grope your tits, he groans, eyes scanning every inch of your body, trying to commit every part of you to memory.

“fuck, you're so pretty, baby.” his words go straight to your core, warm, wet and clenching around nothing. you're thoughtless, the only thing left in your mind is him, so you just whine.

his fingers trace around your hips and slide your thong to the side to get a view of your beautiful cunt.

“you ready?” you nod, and he shakes his head, as if a new man. “say it,” as his hands slide over every part of your body except where you need him most.

“m ready, please stiles need you, need your cock. please, please” you were practically begging so pumped himself a few times before sheathing his full length into your cunt. it's so deliciously painful.

“mm such a good girl, taking me so well,” he pressed his lips against your forehead in a long kiss. before giving you long thick strokes, ans his hand reaching between you to rub little circles onto your clit. you were seeing white as continued to fuck you, your fingernails scraping against his pale skin.

his teeth gritted as he moaned, trying so hard to hold back. “m close, please please.” you whined and he fucked you faster, and harder. rough groans falling out of his lips.

your climax was closing in on your, your nails skating harder against him, your legs closing in around his hips. you basically screamed your orgasm out against stiles neck. he chuckled to himself, proud he could do all this. he funally let go, fucking you both through your climaxes. and keeping his now soft cock in your cunt, to keep his cum in you. thank god for birth control.

[adorrrin]

FIRST MEET. - Simon Ghost Riley x Fem Reader short fic !!

— your husband, Simon, takes you to meet his best friend for the first time.

(divider from kodaswrld)

You laid in your husband, Simon’s arms. His hand absentmindedly running through your hair, other hand secured on your baby bump, gently caressing it. 

After you had told him you were pregnant, he had been more protective than ever. 

He was deep in thought, eyes focused on the ceiling. You knew that when he zoned out like this, it was because he was thinking of something serious. 

“I wanna take you to see Johnny, luv.” His rough voice gruffed, eyes trailing down to meet yours. 

Johnny. Simon didn’t speak much of him. You knew they worked together, but that was it. He always seems to go quiet when Johnny is brought up. 

“R- Really?” You choked, wide eyes meeting his. It was a true surprise; he never spoke of the man, and now he wants to take you to see him? 

“Yeah.” He whispered, slightly nodding his head. Simon had a tendency to be very…reserved. “It’s about time, I reckon.”

… 

And just like that, you two were sat in the car, in silence. The radio was off; this wasn’t a time for music, Simon said. 

Your hands nervously played with the ripped leather of the seat; a bad habit you had gained while being nervous. Simon didn’t mind though. Anything to ease your mind. 

The drive continued on in tense silence, Simon’s hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white. 

He was never good at showing his emotions, so you got better at reading him through the little things. He was sat up a little straighter than usual, his jaw was clenched, and he occasionally moved a hand to his chest to touch his dogtags. 

He was nervous. 

After what felt like an eternity, the car stopped. Simon got out, walked to your side and helped you out aswell. It seemed like you were in the middle of nowhere. Is this where you die?

No. Surely Simon wouldn’t do that. 

His tattooed hand held your hand, starting to pull you along. You walked down a pathway, onto an open meadow, stopping by the cliff, overlooking the water. 

Oh.

“Hey, Johnny.” Simon gruffed quietly, his eyes zoned into the distant sunset. “Finally brought the missus around. Sad you couldn’t actually meet her, but I know you’re up there watchin’ us.” You stayed silent, even tearing up as you watched your husband speak to his late friend. 

“Even managed to knock her up.” He muttered, a chuckle-like sound following. “‘s a boy. We’re gonna name him Johnny.”

You two sat there, watching the sunset, Simon truly opening up to you. He told you everything about his and Johnny’s friendship, he told you how he passed, and everything after it. How Simon came here every week. 

After the sun had finally set, Simon let out a soft sigh. “We need to get going, luv.” 

“See you again next Friday, Johnny.” Simon spoke, before grabbing your hand, helping you up and beginning to lead you back to the car.

He opened his heart to you a little more today, and you’ll forever cherish that. 

______________________________

Simon pushed the stroller down the dirt path, your toddler son babbling in there, playing with his pacifier. 

Finally making it to the opening, he let out a sigh, “That path definitely ain’t made for strollers.” He watched the sunset with a smile again. “Johnny, meet little Johnny. Sorry we haven’t come by sooner, it’s been hectic since the birth.” Simon’s eyes were focused on little Johnny, as he took in another sharp breath. “You’ve properly met my wife now then, haven’t you?” Tears glossed his eyes as he moved his eyes to the sunset; it was more colorful than usual. 

“You better keep ‘er company until I get there. But not too much, eh? She’s still my bloody wife, even if she’s up there now.”

[kingzombear]

What do you characters like to do in their down time!

HOMOSEXUALLY CHARGED SLUMBER PARTY MAKEOVERS 🗣🗣🗣

[rosierin]

midnight snack run │atsumu, osamu, suna

synopsis; you all go for a late-night snack run then talk about your love life in the car park

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

The dorm was a disaster zone of notebooks, half-drunk coffee cups, and an open laptop playing a study playlist that no one was actually listening to. The four of them— Atsumu, Osamu, Suna, and (y/n)— were camped out in (y/n)'s tiny dorm room, attempting to cram for an upcoming exam.

Osamu, leaning back in his chair, suddenly sighed dramatically. “I’m hungry.”

Suna, barely looking up from his phone, muttered, “Shocker.”

“No, like starvin’. I need food now.” Osamu groaned, rubbing his stomach. “If I don’t eat in the next ten minutes, I might actually pass out.”

Atsumu, sprawled out on the floor with his notes abandoned beside him, snorted. “Ya just ate a whole bag of chips, fatso.”

“Yeah, and? That was ages ago.”

(Y/n), perched on her bed with a highlighter in hand, glanced at the clock. “The store closes in, like, twenty minutes.”

Silence. Then—

“Get in the car.”

Suna was already grabbing his keys.

The four of them abandoned their so-called study session, scrambling to throw on hoodies and slip into shoes before tumbling out the door. The night air was cool, crisp, buzzing with that particular kind of spontaneous energy.

They piled into Suna’s car, Atsumu calling shotgun before (y/n) could even blink. Osamu slid into the back with her, stretching out comfortably while (y/n) was almost squished between him and the door.

Suna adjusted the mirrors, deadpan. “If I get a ticket for speeding, you’re paying.”

Osamu scoffed. “I literally have no money.”

“Liar,” Atsumu chimed in.

Suna glanced at Osamu in the mirror. “Then I’ll make you do it in community service hours.”

(Y/n) grinned, already feeling lighter than she had all day. “Drive, Rintaro. We have a mission.”

"Yes ma'am."

After that, Suna pulled out of the parking lot, the radio humming low in the background as the streetlights blurred past. The night stretched ahead of them, quiet and endless, filled with nothing but open roads and the kind of laughter that only came with knowing you were exactly where you were meant to be. To anyone else, it was just a snack run. But to them, nights like these were something sacred.

Gazing out the window, (y/n) smiled. I wonder if the store has strawberry shortcake?

The store was quiet, a few last-minute shoppers weaving through the aisles before closing time. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead as the four of them scattered in different directions, each with their own mission.

Osamu took approximately fifteen minutes trying to decide what crisp flavour he wanted, standing in front of the shelf like it was a life-altering decision. Eventually, with a dramatic sigh, he shrugged and tossed all of them into the trolley. “Problem solved.”

Atsumu, trailing behind, wrinkled his nose. “Ya gonna eat all that?”

“Not in one night, dumbass.”

“Ya sure? ‘Cause I’d believe it.”

Osamu smirked. “Unlike you, I can actually afford it. Some of us work, y’know.”

(Y/n) glanced over. “Oh yeah, how’s the restaurant job going?”

Osamu shrugged. “Not bad. Pays decent, tips are alright. Plus, I get free food sometimes.”

Atsumu scoffed. “Ya mean ya steal food.”

Osamu rolled his eyes. “No, I just happen to be really good at takin’ home leftovers.”

Meanwhile, Atsumu debated buying an energy drink, picking up a can and inspecting it like it held the answers to his future. “Man, I need somethin’ to keep me awake,” he muttered, turning it in his hands. “But this stuff ain’t good for athletes. Coach would kill me."

Suna, grabbing a bottle of water, deadpanned, “Then don’t drink it.”

Atsumu groaned. “But I need it.”

Suna shrugged. “Then drink it.”

Atsumu scowled. “Yer no help.”

Across the store, (y/n) stood in front of the ready-made cake section, practically drooling over the rows of neatly packaged desserts. There was a small strawberry shortcake in a plastic container that looked perfect— exactly like she had wanted— light, fluffy, and covered in fresh whipped cream. She reached for it, already imagining how good it would taste, but the second she checked her bank balance on her phone, she sighed and put it back down.

Suna, who had seen the whole thing, grabbed the cake without a word and dropped it into the cart.

(Y/n)’s face lit up instantly. She turned to him, beaming, and flung her arms around him in a quick but tight hug. “Rin, you’re the best! Thank you!”

Suna, unbothered, patted her head. “Yeah, yeah. You can do the intro for my dissertation.”

(Y/n) pulled back, narrowing her eyes. “That’s why you did it? Not because you love me?”

Suna pulled a face, considering.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, affectionately swatting his arm.

Suna smirked, amused. “C'mon it's a fair trade.”

"Whatever, Rin. I'll do half— max."

"Deal."

Atsumu, watching from a few feet away, clicked his tongue. “This is favoritism.”

Osamu snorted. “Jealous?”

Atsumu scoffed, crossing his arms. “No.”

(Y/n) turned to him, holding up the cake. “Did you want a piece, ‘Tsumu?”

Atsumu, suddenly unable to look her in the eye, scratched the back of his head. “I mean… I wouldn't say no..."

Beside them, Osamu and Suna exchanged a knowing glance, barely holding back their smirks. Once (y/n) was out of ear-shot, the latter smirked. "She's talking about the cake, right?"

Atsumu shot them a glare.

Can't they just give it a rest?

After finally paying for their haul, the four of them made their way back to the car. Of course, in true Osamu fashion, he had refused to buy a shopping bag, grumbling about how they “weren’t gonna scam him outta another ten yen.” Instead, he opted to carry his absurdly large stack of crisp bags and snacks in his arms, which, unsurprisingly, obscured his entire line of vision.

“Dude, you can’t even see,” Suna pointed out, unlocking the car with a click.

“I got it,” Osamu shot back, voice slightly strained as he tried to maneuver his way around the parking lot.

(Y/n) snorted, reaching out to steady a teetering bag of chips before it could hit the ground. “You’re doing great, sweetie.”

Atsumu, already munching on a chocolate bar, gave him a pointed look. “Ya look like a human vending machine.”

“Least I got actual snacks. All you got is a sugar rush and regret.”

Atsumu narrowed his eyes, taking an exaggeratedly loud bite just to prove a point.

Suna shook his head, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Hurry up before I leave all of you behind.”

Eventually, after much struggle (and Osamu nearly dropping half of his snacks twice), they managed to pile back into the car.

“Alright,” (y/n) sighed contentedly, cracking open a drink. “Snack time.”

Soon, the scent of junk food filled the space and as the vehicle fell into easy silence, Suna took the opportunity to scroll through his phone and open Spotify. He picked a song, letting it hum low through the speakers.

Next to him, Atsumu took one bite of his sandwich and crumbs exploded onto the seat.

“Dude,” Suna groaned. “Can you eat like a normal human?”

“Shuddap,” the blonde replied between mouthfuls.

Meanwhile, (y/n) was practically inhaling her strawberry shortcake, discussing how the tartness of the jam complemented the sweetness of the cream. Osamu nodded along, making muffled sounds of agreement through his own snack.

Atsumu gave them a blank look. “Nerds.”

(Y/n) just frowned at him.

Osamu flipped him the bird.

Then, Suna leaned back. “You guys got anything goin’ on in your love lives, or what?"

Osamu shrugged. “Talkin’ stage with a girl in my class. She's cute but I ain't feelin' it."

Atsumu swallowed his food, scoffing obnoxiously. “’'S'cause ya got no game.”

At this, everyone turned to him— unblinking— one eyebrow raised accusatorily.

Atsumu suddenly felt oddly small.

“You can talk, Mister One-Shot-Wonder,” (y/n) said accusingly. “Least your brother can secure himself a second date.”

Osamu folded his arms, looking awfully smug as she defended him.

Meanwhile, his brother pulled a face, indignant.

"Eh!? Where's this come from??" Atsumu asked, visibly insulted. "Also, I choose not to go on second dates."

A scoff. "Yeah, 'cause you sleep with them on the first date then never speak to them again."

There was somewhat of an awkward tension in the air as (y/n) scolded him. The world knew it was because she always hated how Atsumu handled women. Even after all her long-winded lectures about his dating life, he still carried on with his frivolous ways, advice falling upon deaf ears.

Osamu and Suna, however, knew better. Atsumu hadn't lied— he really did choose not to go on second dates. Not because he couldn't, not because others would lose interest. The simple, and only, reason for his 'one-shot wonders' was, in fact, sitting right in front of him.

Osamu debated easing the tension by making some sort of half-hearted joke, but just as he opened his mouth, his twin cut in.

“Listen, I'll go on a second date when I find someone worth my time."

And there it was— a perfect opportunity to shift the atmosphere.

"And who would that be?" Osamu probed, a knowing lilt to his otherwise measured voice.

Almost on cue, Atsumu tensed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

He leaned into his seat, suddenly unable to look anyone in the eye, his face burning as his twin and Suna watched him flounder in real time.

(Y/n), on the other hand, watched him expectantly, not saying a word.

Suna smirked, tilting his head. “What’s wrong, ‘Tsumu? Can’t think of anyone worth your time?”

Osamu feigned a concerned look. “Real shame. Maybe no one’s interestin' enough for ya, huh?”

(Y/n) watched them bicker, blissfully unaware of the real reason behind Atsumu’s silence. With a teasing smile, she nudged his arm. “Oh, c’mon, ‘Tsumu. There’s gotta be someone you like.”

Atsumu’s throat went dry. He swallowed hard, willing his voice to work. “I mean— I—"

The words got stuck.

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, forever waiting.

Osamu and Suna, sensing his absolute distress, exchanged a glance— and then pounced.

“Aww, ya nervous, ‘Tsumu?”

“Wow, he actually can’t talk. That’s a first.”

Osamu nudged (y/n). “Maybe it’s someone real close to home.”

A frown.

Suna smirked. “Yeah, like, really close.”

Atsumu’s brain stalled.

(Y/n) stared at him, her expression shifting from amused to suspicious. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She frowned, feeling like an outsider in a conversation she wasn’t privy to. A fleeting thought crossed her mind— were they talking about her? No, that couldn’t be it. They were probably talking about the girl from their shared seminar, the pretty one who always asked Atsumu for his notes. Yeah, that must be it.

“I need some air,” she muttered, opening the car door.

Suna and Osamu exchanged a look— uh oh.

Atsumu shot them a glare— now look what you've done— before quickly slipping out of the car to follow her.

He found her a few steps away, perched on one of the railings where the trolleys were kept, arms crossed as she stared at the deserted parking lot.

“Oi,” he called out, a little softer than usual. "S'cold out here. Want my jacket?"

A hum.

Swiftly pulling his hoodie over his head, he draped it over (y/n).

"Thanks."

Silence.

“So… about earlier," Atsumu began, leaning beside her. He took several glances in her direction, only to find her staring straight ahead— which could mean one of two things:

A. She's pissed off. B. She's thinking.

Both were a reason for concern.

"They were just messin’ around. When are they not?" The latter part of his sentence was delivered with an unintentional scoff.

Finally, (y/n) glanced at him, almost making his heart leap out of his chest.

“Who is she?”

Atsumu hesitated. “Eh?”

“The girl." Her voice carried hints of hesitation, and Atsumu hadn't missed the way her fingers fiddled with the sleeves of her— or rather—his hoodie. "Do I know her?”

Atsumu exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… ya do.”

Her stomach twisted slightly. Atsumu always told her everything, but now it felt like he was holding back. Love lives were important. Why wouldn’t he just tell her? He usually did.

Atsumu shifted on his feet, gaze flickering toward hers before settling on the pavement. “I’ll tell ya when the time is right.”

A double meaning lingered in his words, but (y/n) didn’t catch it.

Not yet, at least.

She sighed, rolling her shoulders as if trying to shake off the weight of the conversation. Atsumu watched her closely, then, as if sensing she needed a distraction, his lips curved into a smirk.

“Y’know, if ya wanted to get me alone, sweetheart, ya coulda just asked,” he teased, nudging her side.

(Y/n) scoffed, shoving him lightly. “Oh, please. If I wanted to be alone with you, it wouldn't be somethin' as boring as the middle of some dodgy car park."

Atsumu chuckled as (y/n) gestured towards the dark, empty stretch of tarmac around them. “You sayin' I ain’t excitin’ enough for ya?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile creeping onto her lips. “Not even close.”

Atsumu hummed, stepping closer, his voice dipping into something softer. “That so? Guess I gotta work harder then.”

His hand came up suddenly, flicking her nose.

(Y/n) made a small noise, scrunching her face as she swatted at him. “Hey!"

He laughed a little louder this time, dodging her attempts to shove him away. “Has anyone ever told ya how adorable ya are?"

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” She tried to sound annoyed, but the laughter bubbling in her throat betrayed her.

Atsumu grinned. “Nah, ya love me.”

Before she could fire back, a loud honk shattered the moment.

They both turned to see Suna sitting smugly behind the wheel, his hand resting lazily on the horn. Osamu, in the passenger seat, rolled down the window.

"Oi, quit flirtin’, you two. There's a boxed mac and cheese waitin' for me at home,” Osamu called, sounding comically urgent.

(Y/n) groaned, shaking her head at the latter while Atsumu let out an exaggerated sigh. “Can’t get a moment of peace ‘round here.”

Still, neither of them argued as they trudged back to the car, a lingering warmth between them that neither was willing to acknowledge just yet.

As soon as they got in, Suna cranked up the stereo, and (y/n) immediately perked up at the familiar song. Without hesitation, she started singing along, Osamu harmonizing lazily beside her.

Atsumu cleared his throat, eyes ablaze. “Suna, turn this shit up."

Suna wordlessly complied, huffing a laugh through his nose as he watched the trio sing in the rear-view mirror.

And just like that, the tension melted, laughter bubbling up between them as they sped down the empty streets, the city lights stretching endlessly ahead.

[l4ndon0rris]

No Talking Zone LN4

bff!Lando x you :: just a bunch of bff fluff after a certain frustrating race weekend 750ish words masterlist

Lando had officially gone off grid for the night; no texts read, no missed phone calls returned. You weren't taking it personally, you were more than familiar with how Lando dealt with losses over the years but this one undoubtedly stung a little differently. You couldn't rest knowing how his internal monologue would be reeling negatively against himself and you had one tactic that would get him to talk.

A tentative knock on his door didn't appear to stir any movement from the other side, a second firmer knock on the hardwood earned some padding of footsteps from inside the room but still no acknowledgement. With an exasperated sigh to yourself at his blatant ignorance you decided to call out his name this time as you banged on the door with a balled up fist.

"I don't want any visitors," Lando weakly replied to the door. You were grateful he couldn't see your face scrunch up frustratedly in response to him.

"Let me in you idiot." This exact scene had been played between the two of you many times before and you were certain Lando knew you weren't going anywhere until he'd let you in. Raising your fist to the door- the door swung open before you had a chance to knock, a pouty faced Lando stood in the open door way.

"I'm not in the mood to talk," he mumbled barely opening his mouth. His eyes had lost their usual sparkle under heavy eyelids, many would succumb to his current innocent and vulnerable demeanour and lather him with pity and praise but your friendship with Lando was much more genuine and raw than that and you both appreciated it being so.

"Good. I don't want to talk," you challenged with a raised eyebrow. You motioned to the laptop that was placed under your arm, his eyes glanced at it before he defeatedly padded back through his room to the bed. You rolled your eyes at his continued stubborn silence, closing the door behind you and heading to the oversized bed jumping in place beside him setting the laptop down between you for the time being.

"This is a no talking zone," Lando declared monotone. Secretly you were glad he understood exactly why you were here, happy to let him think it was his idea. He lay directly on his back staring at the ceiling, hands on his torso, motionless. You could see and feel the tension and frustration coursing through him. You on the other hand were relaxed, scrolling through your phone. There was no such thing as awkward silence between you both, you knew all too well that sometimes all that is needed is company and that was always the purpose of the 'no talking zone'.

Lando stewed in place on the bed; gnawing at the inside of his lips, tapping his fingers against his knuckles, feet knocking the end of the bed. Restless. Agitated. Disrespected. Confused. Second-best. Second-place.

"You know I've done everything for that team," surprising himself as his internal monologue left his mouth. You briefly acknowledged his statement, glancing at him slightly, knowing it was best to stay quiet and let him talk his way out of his state. He still hadn't moved from his rigid position on the bed.

"Everything. My whole career, all the scut work when I started. I've dragged tractors around that track. I've declined numerous offers. All because I wanted to win with McLaren."

You slowly lowered your phone as Lando continued talking, "I know you have," quietly agreeing.

"You're probably one of few who do actually know. Clearly the team has forgotten. Did you see how big my gap was? Fucking-" Lando turned on his side to face you, a gentle smile on lips in support of your friend. Lando raked a hand through his dishevelled curls, "sorry, I just-"

You hushed him for apologising. "I saw the whole thing, Lan. Everyone did. It was shit, what they said to you on the radio for everyone to hear? Shit." Lando's heavy eyes looked at you, grateful.

"Thanks for coming and not talking with me," he muttered with a weak smile that almost reached his eyes. Fully aware that once again the no talking zone had worked exactly how you planned it to. Lando took the opportunity to open the laptop and find a film as you buried yourself under the duvet cover, him following and wrapping himself like a burrito.

"You always talk best in the no talking zone." You smirked, adding to the mental tally of how many times you had both been in the no talking zone. Some had taken place in a tent on a camping trip, others under separate blankets when there wasn't one big enough for two, self-made carboard dens and under the table at a restaurant was a more bizarre environment when you were much younger.

Places and reasons may change, but you and Lando would never truly outgrow the "no talking zone".

ask box

[callme-holly]

I think you did something like this at one point but like reader who zones out a lot so Dallas has to get her attention but instead of head cannons like a lil one shot ykyk. IF NOT THAT'S TOTALLY FINE TYYYYYY

𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 - 𝐝.𝐰

a/n: i was listening to the attatched song while writing this so its kinda soft. 💿 "Wonderful Girl" - Dion & The Belmonts

The night is quiet, the stars twinkling overhead like splatters across an inky canvas; it’s peaceful, far from the noise of daily life, far from the divide between socs and greasers, far from any expectations hanging over you. It’s just you and Dallas, sitting together on the hood of his car, both revelling in the moment. 

He’s got a cigarette between his lips, burning away slowly, smoke curling into the air as he takes long drags, holding for a few seconds before exhaling slowly. Normally, you’d complain, telling him to quit it, but right now, you’re lost in your own head, trying to keep up with the thoughts racing around your head. 

You don't even realise you've zoned out, staring into the distance blankly, barely registering the words Dallas is speaking, his words a lazy drawl as he takes another drag of his cigarette. It isn't until silence follows his words, silence that would usually be filled with your knowing response, that he takes any notice.

"Hey," he snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing your body to jolt back and your mind to clear. You glance over at him with a guilty expression. "What's going on in that head of yours, huh?" There's no malice in his tone, just pure teasing and curiosity that draws a shrug from you.

"Not much. Just  thinking about... stuff." 

Dallas raises an eyebrow. “Stuff?"  He smirks, taking another drag and flicking away the still smouldering butt. "Sounds really interesting."

You scoff, falling into his side and resting your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to relax; some song is drifting steadily from the radio, some love song that makes the moment feel 10x softer. It's rare to get tender moments like this with Dallas, moments where he just relaxes, winds down, exposes a side to you that not many get to see.

"You gonna start payin' attention to me now, doll?"  He teases, nuzzling into your neck, his breath ghosting across your skin, lips grazing in a light, barely there kiss. 

You turn to face him, eyes filled with nothing but tenderness and awe for him,  lips curving upwards into a smile. You meet him halfway, lips grazing his, a gentle sigh leaving you as your hand tangles in your hair, his coming to rest on your hip, pulling you closer. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tilting upwards and he lets out a laugh that has you pulling away with a pout. 

"What?"  You huff, playfully hitting his chest with your free hand, but he's grinning so wide, eyes glittering with amusement. He catches your hand, lacing your fingers together and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, that rare look in his appearing once more.

"Not zonin' out no more, are ya?" His voice rumbles through you like velvet, sending shivers running down your spine as he leans into you, nosing at your jawline. You lean into him, humming softly, smiling when his mouth finds its way onto yours again, hands gripping each other tighter. 

"Shut up..." you whisper, but you don't fight him any further as he pushes you gently backwards, settling further on the hood of the car. 

[little-jana]

"Off-Key and Under Surveillance"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: fluff, can be read as friend!Spencer

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: bad singing i guess, Hotch being the ultimate dad-figure, use of Y/N and Y/L/N

Summary: On a long drive to a crime scene, you convince Spencer to sing karaoke in the car with you.

Requested: yes! Thank you!

"Come on, Spencer. Just one song."

The car rumbled down the near-empty highway, the sun creeping toward the horizon as you leaned over to mess with the radio. The drive to the crime scene was long, and you were stuck in the passenger seat with none other than Dr. Spencer Reid.

Not that you were complaining.

Spencer was your best friend. Well, best friend and ongoing source of amusement, particularly when it came to getting him to do things outside of his comfort zone.

Like karaoke.

“(Y/N),” Spencer groaned, gripping the wheel just a little tighter. “You know I don’t sing.”

“Not even in the shower?” you teased.

“I barely have time to take long showers, let alone stage a musical performance in one,” he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, first of all? Depressing. Second? This is a road trip. Road trips require music.”

He sighed, long and exaggerated, as if he wasn’t secretly enjoying your antics. “Technically, this is not a road trip. It’s an official Bureau operation en route to an active crime scene.”

“Oh my god, Spencer.” You dramatically threw your head back against the seat. “Do you ever let loose?”

Before he could launch into a full Spencer-style lecture about statistics on law enforcement behavior during vehicular transit, you turned up the volume.

A familiar melody filled the car.

Take on meeeeee… take me onnnnn…

“Oh, no,” Spencer muttered immediately.

“Oh, yes,” you countered, grinning.

You pointed at him. “Come on. You know this one.”

“I—”

I’ll be goooone… in a day or twoooooo!

Unable to resist, you sang at full volume, dramatically clutching your chest like you were performing for a sold-out stadium. You risked a glance at Spencer and—

Oh.

He was trying not to laugh. His lips twitched at the corners, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

Gotcha.

“You wanna sing it, don’t you?” you nudged him playfully.

“No.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

A few seconds of silence. The chorus was coming up again.

Then, just as you were about to launch into another exaggerated performance—

“Take on meee…”

Your jaw dropped.

Spencer was singing.

Granted, it was quiet. Awkward. A little off-key. But it was happening.

“Oh my god,” you gasped dramatically. “SPENCER!”

His face turned red immediately. “I regret this already.”

“You can’t stop now! Come on, commit!”

You belted out the next line, and Spencer—grumbling under his breath—reluctantly joined in, his voice growing just a little more confident.

For the next thirty seconds, it was pure chaos.

Off-key harmonizing. You doing dramatic gestures. Spencer trying not to laugh as he struggled through the high notes.

It was perfect.

Until—

“Reid. (Y/L/N).”

Both of you froze.

Spencer’s hands went rigid on the wheel.

The music was still playing. You were mid-lyric.

Then, you heard it again—loud and very unimpressed.

“Would either of you like to explain why I can hear an 80s pop concert through the comms?”

Your heart stopped.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

Spencer’s face drained of all color. “Oh no.”

Hotch.

Hotch could hear you.

Hotch had been listening the whole time.

There was a moment of silence.

And then—Morgan’s voice, absolutely losing it.

“NO. WAY.”

“I forgot to turn off the comms,” Spencer whispered in horror.

Hotch sighed—the sigh. The “I have been dealing with these children for years” sigh.

“This is an FBI operation, not a road trip,” he said flatly.

You pressed your lips together so hard to stop from laughing. You weren’t sure if it was the sheer embarrassment or the fact that Spencer looked like he wanted to curl into a ball and disappear from existence.

Morgan, meanwhile, was howling.

“Oh, this is gold. This is pure gold. Please tell me we have that recorded.”

“I am so sorry,” Spencer blurted, gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality.

You couldn’t help it—you snorted. Loudly.

Because, honestly? This was hilarious.

Spencer shot you a betrayed look.

“You’re laughing?” he hissed.

“You have to admit, it’s kind of funny,” you whispered back.

“I assure you, it’s not,” Hotch responded, clearly done with both of you. “Now, please, focus on the case.”

Morgan was still laughing.

“I swear, I’m gonna tell Garcia,” he wheezed.

Spencer groaned. “Please don’t.”

“Oh, I absolutely am.”

You wiped tears from your eyes, struggling to regain composure. “Okay, okay. We’ll behave.”

Silence.

Then, just as you thought the ordeal was over—

“Take on meeeeee…”

Your head snapped toward Spencer in shock.

Had he just—

Did he just—

“SPENCER!”

His face was red as he realized what just happened. “I—I didn’t mean to! It was reflexive!”

Morgan actually screamed.

“Oh, this is the best day of my life.”

Hotch groaned. “Get it together before you arrive on scene.”

Spencer buried his face in his hands. “I’m never going to live this down.”

You grinned. “Nope. But hey—at least you finally did karaoke.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, shaking his head. “In front of my boss.”

You patted his shoulder. “Hey, look at the bright side. At least now Hotch knows you have range.”

Spencer glared at you. “I’m dropping you off on the side of the road.”

You just laughed.

And somewhere, through the comms, Morgan was still cackling.