He's so boyfriend coded I'm not doing okay.
Keni

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
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wallacepolsom

Kiana Khansmith
ojovivo
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

@theartofmadeline
Claire Keane
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
RMH
No title available
occasionally subtle

#extradirty

izzy's playlists!
Sade Olutola
Misplaced Lens Cap
trying on a metaphor
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
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seen from United States
seen from Azerbaijan

seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
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seen from Malaysia
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seen from Malaysia
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seen from Türkiye
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seen from T1
seen from United States
@olivarrysqueen
He's so boyfriend coded I'm not doing okay.
top 3 hobbies for young adults:
1. borrowing misery from future
2. carrying grief of the past
3. agonizing over the present
Hey I saw you were looking for ideas for off campus fics
How about, sitting on the off campus boy’s backs while they do pushups for totally valid reasons I’m sure 😏
As a Dean girlie since day 1, expect more of him from me. There's fun boys content in this one! Keep the requests coming
The Frozen Four was coming up, so the boys were doubling up on the training. More skating, more lifting, more cardio…and more proteins.
‘’Come on, Tuck!’’ you yelled, standing near the patio steps as the goalie started slowing down on his push-ups. ‘’Ten more, you can do it!’’
Tucker glared at you from the grass, his hair damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead. ‘’You’re enjoying this way too much.’’
You grinned as he lowered himself for another push-up. The boys had turned today’s backyard training into a stupid competition: the one to do the most push-ups will get a paid massage by the losers.
On Tucker’s left, Dean and Garrett were showing no signs of difficulty, which didn’t surprise you. Garrett trained hard to outrun the nepo baby label attached to his last name. He didn’t want people thinking he’d been recruited by the Bruins because he was Phil Graham’s son. He wanted to be known for his skill — for himself.
I just discovered your account and binge read every single one of your fics. They're addictive.
Request for Dean Di Laurentis where everybody knows he likes reader but he's in denial, and then reader comes out wearing his jersey and he just...malfunctions in front of everybody?
Love your fics a lot boo boo.
~🍒
The Jersey Problem
Pairing: Dean Di Laurentis x Reader
Word Count: 1357
Request open!
Off campus masterlist
Everybody knew Dean Di Laurentis liked you.
That was the problem.
He knew it too, obviously, but he was committed to pretending otherwise, which somehow made it worse for everyone involved. Garrett had started a betting pool. Logan had stopped pretending to be subtle about it. Tucker had once looked at Dean, then at you, then back at Dean and said, “You are both exhausting.” Even the freshmen seemed to have picked up on it by now.
Dean, however, remained in denial.
He acted like he had no idea why he kept finding himself near you. No idea why his attention followed you around a room. No idea why he got strangely quiet when other guys talked to you.
He was very committed to the bit.
Which was why the entire hockey house nearly combusted when you walked into the common room wearing his jersey for the first time.
It happened on a Saturday afternoon after practice. You had spent the morning at the house, half studying and half pretending to ignore Dean being ridiculously distracting in the kitchen. At some point, you had borrowed his jersey because it was cold and because it smelled like him and because, frankly, you liked the way he looked at you when you wore his things.
Dean had been in the shower when you put it on.
So when you came down the stairs and into the common room wearing his name across your back and his number hanging loose over your thighs, nobody was prepared.
Nobody except the entire room, which immediately went silent.
Garrett’s jaw dropped first.
Logan made a choking sound into his drink.
Tucker just pointed at you like he had witnessed the second coming.
And Dean, who had just come out of the hallway with wet hair and a towel around his neck, stopped dead in place.
Completely.
Fully.
Utterly broke.
He stared at you for one full second.
Then another.
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
You looked between all of them and frowned a little. “What?”
No one answered.
Dean was still staring.
Garrett was the first one to recover. “Oh my God.”
Logan looked at Dean. “Dude.”
Tucker grinned. “He’s malfunctioning.”
Dean finally found his voice, though it was clearly not cooperating. “Why are you wearing that?”
You blinked. “Your jersey?”
“I know what it is.”
“You left it in the room.”
Dean stared at you harder, as if that would somehow make the situation less catastrophic. It did not.
You folded your arms, which only made the sleeves of the jersey fall differently and probably made things worse, not that you knew it yet. “Is that a problem?”
Dean looked like he might short-circuit on the spot.
Garrett made an obnoxious sound of delight. “Oh, this is amazing.”
Dean shot him a glare without looking away from you. “Shut up.”
You frowned, now starting to understand that something had gone terribly, hilariously right. “Why are you all acting weird?”
Logan coughed. “You should ask him.”
Dean pointed at him. “Not helping.”
Tucker leaned back against the couch. “No, please, keep going. This is the best thing that has happened all week.”
Dean’s gaze snapped back to you, and now he looked less like a confident flirt and more like a man actively losing his grip on reality. “You cannot just walk in here looking like that.”
You glanced down at the jersey. “Like what?”
He made a helpless motion with one hand. “Like that.”
You took a small step closer, suddenly enjoying this way too much. “Dean.”
He swallowed.
Garrett covered his mouth with his hand, clearly trying not to laugh.
You tilted your head. “Are you having a problem?”
Dean looked at you like that question was deeply unfair. “Yes.”
The room exploded.
Garrett actually laughed out loud. Logan turned away, shoulders shaking. Tucker looked like he wanted to applaud.
You smiled slowly, and Dean’s eyes narrowed just enough to show he knew exactly what was happening now.
“You did this on purpose,” he muttered.
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
You walked one step closer, and Dean looked like he might need medical attention.
“You said you didn’t care what I wore,” you said.
“I said I was normal about it.”
You blinked innocently. “And?”
Dean stared at you, then at the jersey, then back at you. “This is not normal.”
Your smile got wider.
Garrett muttered, “He’s gone.”
Logan nodded. “Absolutely gone.”
Dean ignored both of them and took a step toward you like he had finally decided that if he was going to lose, he was going to lose properly. “Come here.”
Your breath hitched just a little because the tone in his voice changed everything.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
You went closer, and Dean’s hand settled at your waist immediately, fingers gripping the fabric of his jersey like he needed proof you were actually there. He looked down at the name on your chest, then at your face, and let out a breath like he had been hit with something too good to process.
“You are unbelievable,” he said quietly.
You smiled. “Still acting normal?”
He gave you a look. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No,” he admitted, still staring at you like you had personally ruined his ability to function, “I really don’t.”
That was enough to send Garrett into another fit of laughter.
Dean shot him a death stare before leaning closer to you. “Do you have any idea what this does to me?”
You let your smile turn sweet. “No.”
“Liar.”
You laughed softly. “You’re the one who’s blushing.”
Dean looked briefly insulted by the accusation. “I am not.”
“Dean,” Logan said from the couch, “you look like you’re trying to survive a natural disaster.”
Dean didn’t even glance at him. “Shut up.”
Tucker, enjoying this far too much, added, “He’s definitely blushing.”
Dean groaned.
You reached up and touched his cheek, and that was all it took for his entire expression to soften right in front of everyone. The room got quieter again, not because the others were respecting the moment, but because they were all waiting to see exactly how far he was going to fall.
“Does it really bother you that much?” you asked softly.
Dean looked at you for a beat, then his hand slid a little more firmly around your waist. “No,” he said, voice low, “it’s just a little unfair.”
You laughed. “Unfair?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing.”
You pretended innocence, which was impossible because your smile had already betrayed you. “I just liked the jersey.”
Dean’s gaze dropped to the hem, then back to your face, and his voice got even quieter. “You should wear it more.”
That made your breath catch.
Garrett’s eyebrows went up. Logan muttered, “Oh, he’s gone again.”
Tucker pointed at Dean. “That’s the line. That’s the one.”
Dean ignored them all, because now he was focused only on you. “You look good in it,” he said, more carefully this time, as if the admission cost him something.
You smiled, softer now. “Yeah?”
He nodded once, eyes steady on yours. “Yeah.”
Then, because the universe apparently liked chaos, he kissed you right there in the middle of the common room.
It was brief, but it was enough.
Enough for the room to erupt again. Enough for Garrett to make a triumphant noise. Enough for Logan to shake his head like he had known this was coming for months. Enough for Dean to finally, finally look like he had given up pretending.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours for half a second and muttered, “You’re dangerous.”
You grinned. “You’re the one who asked me to come over.”
“I did not ask you to wear my jersey.”
“You didn’t have to.”
That made him stare at you, then laugh under his breath like he had been completely defeated.
And maybe he had been.
Because one glance around the room told you everything you needed to know.
Everybody knew Dean liked you.
Dean knew it too now.
He just didn’t stand a chance once you walked in wearing his name.
I absolutely loved your last Dean story!! I was wondering if you would be able to write about a reader who has never been able to finish, with herself or anyone else, and dean helps her learn.
Beautiful writing!
I would've done that sober
Pairing: Dean Di Laurentis x childhood best friend!reader
⟡ Main Index | ⟡ Archive for Earth-66
a/n: Well that was long, but such a delight to write and soooo so sexy
Classification: Smut +18 | Talks of ex's and sexual dysfunction/insecurity, emotional vulnerability, recreational drug use (NOT DURING SEX), dry humping/grinding, getting caught, fingering, tension and arousal descriptions, orgasm, praise and partial undressing/lingerie.
Word count: 12k
Divider by me ;)
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐩 ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
summary 𓂃 when you admit you’ve never been on top before, dean decides there’s no better place to learn than his bed.
warnings 𓂃 18+ mdni, explicit smut, established relationship, insecurity, first time riding, protected sex, praise, dirty talk, boob play, clit stimulation, missionary, soft aftercare.
word count 𓂃 3,468.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
SHE'S SITTING WITH ME !
Pairing : Dean Di Laurentis x Fem!reader Warning : jealousy , possesive Dean, popular hockey boy x shy girl, accidental confession Word Count : 1,6k Summary : When Dean gets unexpectedly jealous at a Briar party and pulls you onto his lap in front of everyone, the line between friendship and something more suddenly disappears.
You hated Briar parties. Too loud. Too crowded. Too many drunk athletes screaming over terrible music.
Honestly, you would’ve stayed home if Dean hadn’t practically dragged you there himself.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he complained dramatically while walking backwards in front of you. “You can’t spend your entire Friday night hiding in your dorm.”
“Yes I can.”
Dean grinned immediately.
“Not anymore.”
Your stomach flipped stupidly. That happened a lot around Dean Di Laurentis. Which was unfortunate because Dean flirted with literally everyone.
Waitresses. Classmates. Random girls at parties.
Meanwhile you could barely survive eye contact with him.
“Relax,” he teased softly once you reached the crowded house. “I’ll protect you from the evil social interaction.”
You rolled your eyes, but still followed closely behind him inside. Dean noticed. He always noticed. That was the problem. People thought Dean was shallow because he joked constantly and flirted with everyone around him. But you knew better.
You noticed the little things:
how he always walked on the outside of sidewalks,
how he remembered your coffee order,
how he touched your lower back in crowded rooms without thinking,
how his eyes automatically searched for you first whenever he entered somewhere.
It was confusing.
Especially because Dean acted like you belonged to him half the time. Even though you definitely weren’t dating. Probably. Maybe. Honestly, you didn’t know anymore.
“Stay here,” Dean said while handing you a drink. “I’m grabbing Logan before he destroys someone at beer pong.”
You laughed quietly.
“Okay.”
“Don’t let anyone kidnap you while I’m gone.”
Heat rushed to your face immediately. Dean winked before disappearing into the crowd. You hated how easily he affected you. A few minutes later, you were standing awkwardly near the kitchen trying not to look completely uncomfortable. Bad idea. Because apparently standing alone at a party attracted attention.
“You look terrified.”
You looked up nervously to find a football player smiling down at you. Cute. Very tall.Definitely drunk.
“Oh,” you laughed weakly. “I’m okay.”
“You sure?” He leaned casually against the counter beside you. “You’ve been hiding over here all night.”
You smiled politely, unsure what to say. Social interaction was already hard enough. Flirting was worse.
“I’m Mason, by the way.”
You told him your name softly. Then immediately regretted it because his smile widened.
“Well,” Mason said, “you’re definitely the prettiest girl here.”
Your face burned.
“Oh, thank you.”
“You here with someone?”
Before you could answer, Mason’s hand landed lightly on your waist.
And suddenly,
“She’s sitting with me.”
The voice cut through the noise instantly. Your breath caught. Dean stood a few feet away staring directly at the football player.
And for once? Dean Di Laurentis wasn’t smiling. Your heartbeat immediately sped up.
Mason lifted his hands awkwardly. “Dude, I was just talking to her.”
“Cool.” Dean walked forward slowly. “Now you’re done.”
The tension shifted instantly.
You stared at Dean in complete shock while Mason looked between both of you confused.
“Wait,” Mason frowned slightly. “Are you guys together?”
Dean’s arm wrapped around your waist without hesitation.
“She’s with me.”
The words hit your chest so hard it almost hurt. Mason looked uncomfortable immediately.
“My bad.”
Dean didn’t answer.
He just guided you away from the kitchen with his hand still firmly against your waist.
Your entire body felt warm where he touched you.
“What was that?” you whispered once you reached the living room.
Dean looked down at you innocently.
“What was what?”
“You basically threatened him.”
Dean scoffed.
“He was flirting with you.”
“And?”
“And I didn’t like it.”
The answer came too fast. Too honestly. Your heart nearly stopped. Dean seemed to realize what he’d admitted because his expression shifted slightly. But instead of taking it back… His hand tightened against your waist.
“You’re sitting with me,” he decided suddenly.
Before you could process the sentence, Dean dropped onto the couch and pulled you directly into his lap. Your entire brain short-circuited.
“Dean!”
He looked completely relaxed despite the fact that your heart was trying to kill you.
“What?”
“I can’t sit on your lap!”
“Too late.”
Around you, several hockey players immediately started staring. Logan nearly spit out his drink. Garrett looked deeply unimpressed.
And Allie whispered:
“Oh my God finally.”
Your face burned hotter. Dean only looked smug. One of his hands rested casually against your thigh while the other held his drink. Completely comfortable. Like this was normal. Meanwhile you could barely breathe.
“Dean,” you hissed quietly. “Everyone’s looking.”
“Let them.”
Your stomach flipped violently.
“How are you acting normal right now?”
He leaned closer slightly.
“I’m always normal.”
“You’re literally holding me hostage.”
Dean grinned lazily.
“Sweetheart, if I was holding you hostage, you’d know.”
Your brain stopped functioning. Absolutely stopped. And the worst part? You didn’t even want to move. Because sitting in Dean’s lap felt stupidly safe. Warm. His fingers absentmindedly traced circles against your leg while he talked to Garrett about hockey, completely unaware he was actively ruining your life.
Or maybe he was aware. That was somehow worse.
“You’re quiet,” Dean murmured eventually, looking down at you.
“I wonder why.”
He laughed softly.
Cute.
Dean Di Laurentis was annoyingly cute.
Which felt deeply unfair considering he looked like that and had the personality of a menace.
“You okay?” he asked more gently.
The softness in his voice caught you off guard. You nodded slowly.
“Yeah.”
Dean studied your face for a second too long. Then his thumb brushed absentmindedly against your thigh. Your pulse jumped instantly. And suddenly something shifted. The teasing atmosphere faded slightly.
Now it was just:
Dean looking at you,
your body pressed against his,
and way too much tension between both of you.
“You know,” Dean said quietly, “I really hated watching him flirt with you.”
Your breath caught.
“Dean…”
“I’m serious.”
His expression softened completely now. No jokes. No flirting. Just honesty. And somehow that terrified you more.
“I didn’t like the way he looked at you,” Dean admitted softly. “Or touched you.”
Your heart pounded painfully.
“Why?”
The question slipped out before you could stop it.
Dean stared at you silently for a second.
Then laughed quietly to himself.
“Jesus Christ.”
“What?”
“You seriously don’t know?”
Your stomach twisted.
“Know what?”
Dean looked almost frustrated now.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, “I’ve been obsessed with you for months.”
Silence. Complete silence. The party noise faded into background static. You stared at him, convinced you misheard.
“What?”
Dean’s hand moved carefully to your waist again.
“You think I drag you to parties because I enjoy watching you avoid eye contact with everyone?”
Heat rushed violently to your face.
“You flirt with everybody,” you whispered.
Dean immediately shook his head.
“Not like this.”
Your chest tightened painfully.
“Then what is this?”
Dean smiled softly.
“This,” he murmured while pulling you slightly closer, “is me losing my mind over one shy girl.”
Your heart completely melted. And suddenly everything made sense. The constant attention. The touching. The jealousy. The way Dean always looked at you like you were something precious.
“Oh,” you whispered.
Dean laughed quietly.
“Yeah. Oh.”
You stared at him nervously.
“So…” Your voice came out tiny. “You like me?”
Dean looked genuinely offended.
“Baby, I’m one bad day away from writing poetry about you.”
A startled laugh escaped you instantly. Dean smiled immediately like hearing you laugh was his favorite thing in the world. God. You were so done for.
“You know what the worst part is?” you admitted quietly.
“What?”
“I think I liked when you got jealous.”
Dean froze for half a second. Then a dangerously smug grin appeared on his face.
“Oh, you’re into possessive behavior?” he teased.
Your eyes widened immediately.
“No!”
Dean laughed loudly while your face burned alive.
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”
“You’re horrible.”
“And yet,” he murmured while leaning closer, “you’re still sitting in my lap.”
Your breath caught instantly. Because he was right. You hadn’t moved once. Not even a little. Dean’s eyes flickered briefly toward your lips. Then back up again.
“You wanna know something?” he asked softly.
“What?”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the second week I knew you.”
Your heartbeat became unbearable.
“Dean…”
“Tell me to stop.”
But the problem was… You really, really didn’t want him to stop. So instead, you whispered:
“Maybe I don’t want you to.”
Dean stared at you for half a second before kissing you immediately.
Warm. Confident. Perfect.
One hand settled against your waist while the other tilted your chin upward carefully, like he wanted to make absolutely sure you felt everything behind the kiss. And honestly? You thought Dean flirting was dangerous. Kissing him was worse. When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathing hard. Dean rested his forehead lightly against yours.
“Well,” he murmured lazily, “that’s gonna make parties way more interesting.”
You laughed softly despite yourself. Across the room, Garrett looked exhausted already. Logan looked deeply entertained. And Dean? Dean looked ridiculously pleased with himself.
“Still hate parties?” he whispered.
You glanced at him before smiling shyly.
“Maybe not this one.”
Dean grinned immediately before kissing your forehead. Then, because he was incapable of behaving normally for even five seconds, he looked around the room proudly and announced:
“Everybody relax. She likes me back.”
You immediately hid your face in his shoulder while the hockey team erupted into chaos.
A/N : Here's my third fanfiction on Dean Di Laurentis!!! Hope u like it ! Don't forget to LIKE,SHARE, COMMENT & SUBSCRIBE !! Next one gonna be GARRET GRAHAM !
BONER ALERT – dean di laurentis ¡
pairing dean di laurentis x graham!reader
summary your brother's best friend gets a boner when you sit on his lap
contains boner alert... mature content, dry humping, coming in pants, sexual tension, forced proximity, public sex (kinda...), reader is a tease, wc 2k
a/n this is not supposed to be realistic... at all... just fun and horny yay!!
Fitting eight people into one car isn't very ideal.
boys being boyfriends
john logan gets a bit too flirty with you during your tutoring session . ♡
“so here, webster actually argues against the modernisation of the welfare state…” your eyes flit to logan, his thick forearms planted on the table next to you. he looks at you intently, his pencil looking comically small between his long fingers as he traces the point over his lips.
you slam your pen down on the glossy page of your textbook. “what are you looking at, john?”
best friend's brother | dean di laurentis ✶
summary: in which a dull night at a bar turns into something far more complicated when your best friend's older brother steps in to protect you against an inebriated man who won't take no for an answer. what happens when you get a lift home with dean, and the years of unresolved tension between you finally starts to fade away, replaced with something much more intense.
pairing: dean di laurentis x fem!reader
notes: hi! this is my first of (hopefully) many dean fics!! i personally loved reading dean and summer's sibling dynamic, so i wanted to bring some more of it to life! i hope you enjoy <3
ꪆৎ
you lazily drink the white liquid in your glass, the alcohol burning as it makes its way down your throat. you had already accepted that tonight was going to become something far longer, far quieter, and far more boring than you had ever intended when you agreed to come out.
you were currently sitting by the bar, your fingers tracing absent, repetitive circles along the rim of the glass in front of you, a small grounding habit that gave your hands something to do while your mind drifted in and out of focus.
your gaze shifts across the bar, landing on your friend brenna, her face lit up in animated interest as she leans forward across the table, completely absorbed in the man she’s on a date with.
you watch as she laughs softly at something he says. at least one of you would be getting lucky tonight.
you had promised brenna that you would tag along, mostly to make sure she stayed safe. after all, meeting someone online came with its own set of risks.
this was how you ended up posted at the bar for what felt like an eternity, politely declining every sympathetic glance from the bartender, who seemed to assume you had been stood up.
you didn’t bother to correct him.
you just kept drinking.
the only thing making the night even remotely interesting was the sight of dean di laurentis.
he stood in the corner of the bar, surrounded by friends and teammates. his posture was relaxed in that effortless way that always made him look like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
it was impressive how the eldest dilaurentis boy was always able to hold the attention of a room.
you watch as he laughs at something one of the boys says, his head tilting slightly as his shoulders lift in an unguarded reaction. his smile lingers before he shakes his head like he’s trying to dismiss the comment made, though it’s clear he’s still amused.
you find yourself smiling too, without meaning to, because dean has always had that effect on you. to anyone else it would look like nothing more than a girl watching someone across a bar.
but it isn’t nothing.
it never really has been.
dean di laurentis is your best friend summer's older brother, and somewhere along the way, over years and passing familiarity, he stopped being just that.
you and dean used to get along, arguably a little too well. the lingering flirtation between the two of you over holidays had never exactly been subtle, and it certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed by the people around you, including summer herself.
dean was familiar in the way someone is when they’ve always been around, always present in the background of your life without ever needing to be defined.
but time had shifted things quietly, until distance started to sit between you in ways neither of you had properly addressed.
not because anything had happened, but because nothing had.
and somehow that felt worse.
you take another sip, slower this time, letting the burn of vodka settle into your chest, when movement interrupts your focus.
a man appears at your side, too close immediately, his presence heavy in a way that makes your shoulders instinctively tighten before he even speaks.
“hey,” he says, his voice coming out slightly slurred.
“you been sitting here alone all night?”
you blink once, forcing a polite expression, the kind you’ve learned to show when you want something to end without it becoming a problem.
“hi,” you reply softly, “i’m actually just here with my friend. she’s on a date over there.”
you nod toward brenna as if that alone should explain everything, as if context should be enough to gently end the interaction with this man.
it isn’t.
he doesn’t move.
“you look like you could use better company than a bar stool,” he says, grin widening slightly as he gestures vaguely, “would you like a drink?"
you exhale slowly through your nose, grip tightening faintly around your glass.
“that’s really kind,” you say carefully, keeping your tone steady, “but i’m okay. i’m just going to wait here for my friend.”
you expect that to be enough, it usually is.
but tonight, much to your dismay, it’s not.
that’s when you feel it before you fully register it, a shift in attention across the room.
dean is watching. not casually, not absentmindedly.
he's fully focused, his gaze settled on you in a way that makes your stomach tighten slightly, though you don’t let yourself acknowledge why.
you look away quickly, back to the man, forcing calm into your expression even as discomfort starts to creep in under your skin.
“i’m just going to check on my friend,” you say gently, already trying to step out of the situation, “so i should head-”
his hand closes around your wrist and everything stops.
your body reacts before your thoughts catch up, shoulders stiffening immediately as instinct sharpens into awareness. his grip is firm enough that your pulse spikes instantly.
“don’t be like that,” he mutters, leaning closer, voice low and entitled, “you’re practically asking for it dressed like that.”
the words land heavy. they're completely wrong in a way that makes your stomach drop. you feel your breath catch as you try to pull away, but his grip doesn't loosen.
you glance around the bar, searching for help.
brenna is still caught in conversation, her head tilted back as she laughs.
the bartender is gone.
no one seems to be looking.
except for dean, and this time, he’s already moving.
not rushed. not frantic.
just immediate, like he already decided his next movements the moment he saw.
dean's there in only a matter of seconds.
close enough that suddenly the man holding your wrist feels like he’s standing in the wrong place entirely.
“hey y/n,” dean says lightly.
calm. even. controlled.
you turn your head slightly, and he’s already beside you, eyes flicking briefly to your wrist before settling on the man’s hand.
you watch as his jaw tightens and his gaze darkens briefly before he finally looks up to meet the man’s stare.
“she said no,” dean repeats, still polite, still almost casual. “so you can let go now.”
the man hesitates.
dean doesn’t.
he steps half a step closer, not aggressive, not enough to draw attention, just enough for the space to suddenly feel smaller.
“i’m only going to say this once,” he adds, voice still calm, though there’s something final underneath it now.
“move your hand.”
and the man does.
immediately.
dean doesn’t escalate it further. he doesn’t need to.
instead, he shifts slightly, positioning himself beside you in a way that feels instinctive. his hand briefly brushes your back as he guides you out of the space without making a scene, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to do.
you quickly glance back toward brenna, noticing her already stood from the table, concern written all over her features as her eyes flick quickly between you and dean.
the second your gaze meets hers, she mouths a silent are you okay?
despite everything, you manage a small smile.
you nod once, subtle but reassuring, before motioning lightly for her to sit back down, silently telling her to stay, to keep enjoying her date, that you were fine.
brenna hesitates for a second longer before finally relaxing slightly, offering you one last uncertain look before lowering herself back onto the chair before her.
when you turn back around, dean is already looking at you.
the sharpness from earlier had disappeared completely now, replaced by something softer, something careful.
“you okay?” he asks softly, his voice laced with caution.
you nod, even though your hand still feels faintly warm from where it had been held.
“yeah.”
dean studies you for a second longer than necessary, like he’s checking for something you might not be saying.
then he nods once.
“good,” he says, lighter now, “because i was about three seconds away from ruining his entire night.”
despite everything, a small laugh escapes you, and dean smiles in response. not the kind he gives his teammates. the kind that feels reserved for something else entirely.
-
you step outside, the noise of the bar falling away behind you as a cold breeze hits your skin, making you instinctively wrap your arms around yourself.
dean notices immediately and without a word, he’s already shrugging off his jacket.
you hesitate.
he doesn’t.
“take it, y/n” he says simply, holding it out.
you do, fingers brushing his as you pull it on, the warmth of his touch lingering longer than it should.
you barely get the chance to pull your phone out from your purse to grab a ride before dean speaks once more.
“you’re not getting an uber.”
you glance over at him, mildly confused. “what?”
he unlocks his car with a quiet beep, opening the passenger side door before looking back at you expectantly, like this conversation had already been decided.
“i’m taking you home.”
“dean-”
“y/n.” his tone is calm, but firm enough to immediately cut you off. “it’s late, you’ve been drinking, and i literally have to drive past your street to get back to mine anyways.”
you hesitate near the open door, fingers tightening slightly around the sleeves of his jacket still hanging off your shoulders.
“i could’ve figured something out myself.”
“i know,” he says easily. “doesn’t mean i was gonna let you.”
there’s something frustratingly effortless about the way he says it, like it’s obvious. like the idea of you finding another way home was never actually an option in his mind to begin with.
you exhale quietly. “you’re very bossy tonight.”
a grin tugs briefly at the corner of dean’s mouth. “only because you make everything difficult.”
“i do not.”
he raises an eyebrow. “you argued with me just then over a ride that’s already on my way home.”
you open your mouth, then close it again when you realise he’s technically right.
which only makes him look more amused.
“exactly,” he says, satisfaction laced through his voice.
you roll your eyes dramatically before finally sliding into the passenger seat. “you’re insufferable.”
dean shuts the door behind you gently. “and yet,” he says as he walks around the front of the car, “here you are.”
you smile to yourself. this kind of banter feeling achingly familiar, like the way you two were years ago.
streetlights poured through the windshield in brief flashes of gold as dean drove, one hand resting lazily against the steering wheel while the other tapped absentmindedly against his thigh in rhythm with the music playing through the speakers.
“you know you didn’t have to step in like that,” you say eventually, voice quieter than before.
dean glances at you briefly. “yeah, i did.”
you frown slightly. “you didn’t even know what was happening.”
he exhales softly through his nose, eyes back on the road ahead.
“i saw enough,” he says.
a pause.
you look at him then.
properly.
dean turns to meet your gaze, and he doesn’t look away either.
not immediately, at least.
you hold eye contact with him long enough for something unspoken to settle between you both. something heavy and unmistakable, before dean clears his throat and focuses back on driving.
this was going to be a long drive.
his jacket still hung loosely around your shoulders, the sleeves far too long on you and carrying the unmistakable scent of his cologne in a way that was becoming increasingly distracting the longer you sat there.
you hated how aware of him you always were.
you catch yourself looking at him again, your gaze drifting momentarily over the sharp line of his jaw which had been illuminated by the passing lights. despite not having seeing him in over a year, he looked exactly the same.
you hated to admit it, but he looked as handsome as ever.
you quickly dart your eyes away after noticing you’d probably been staring for too long, shifting your gaze toward the window in hopes he hadn’t noticed.
but it was too late.
“you done staring yet?” dean asks casually, amusement threading through his voice as the corner of his mouth lifts slightly.
your head snaps toward him immediately. “i wasn’t staring at you.”
he hums softly, clearly unconvinced. “right.”
you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re unbelievably irritating, di laurentis.”
before he can think of a response, your phone suddenly lights up against your lap, summer’s contact flashing across the screen.
your stomach drops instantly.
dean notices your expression immediately and grins.
“that look alone tells me i should absolutely listen to this conversation.”
“you’re not listening to anything,” you mutter quickly, already answering the call before summer would inevitably ring three more times in a row.
“hello?”
“y/n!” summer’s voice bursts through your phone speaker immediately.
“why did brenna just text me saying my brother nearly killed a guy tonight? what happened?”
you sink lower into the passenger seat instantly. “she texted you already?”
beside you, dean lets out a quiet laugh under his breath.
“of course she did, you know her y/n, she's always messaging me updates” summer states.
you shake your head in response before a small laugh escapes your mouth.
“right up ahead, yeah, y/n?” dean asks, turning to look at you with a slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
you knew exactly what he was doing.
the question wasn't really for directions, dean already knew where you lived. it was to let summer know that he was in the car with you.
asshole. you thought to yourself.
“wait,” summer says suddenly, suspicion creeping into her tone immediately, “who was that?”
your entire body stiffens.
“what?” you reply too quickly.
dean notices your panic instantly, looking entirely too entertained by it.
“relax,” he whispers teasingly, voice low enough that it sends warmth rushing embarrassingly fast through your chest.
“you’re acting like she caught us making out.”
your eyes widen immediately. “dean.”
summer goes silent for exactly one second.
“y/n.”
you close your eyes briefly.
“who are you in the car with?”
before you can answer, dean tilts his head slightly toward you, fighting back a grin that’s becoming increasingly impossible for him to hide.
“tell her i’m your uber,” he suggests quietly. “or your chaffeur. chaffeur sounds hotter.”
you shove his arm immediately, horrified. “stop talking.”
summer gasps loudly through the phone.
“IS THAT MY BROTHER?”
you groan softly, dropping your forehead briefly against the cold window. “yeah,” you mumble reluctantly, “he’s giving me a lift home.”
there’s a dramatic pause on the other end.
“oh my god,” summer breathes. “you’re alone in a car with my brother, right now?"
dean actually laughs at that, the sound warm and unfairly attractive as he glances over at you.
“why is she making it sound like i’m some sort of criminal?” he asks lightly before raising his voice slightly toward the phone.
“summer, i’m literally driving your best friend home safely, relax.”
“you don’t ‘drive girls home safely’ dean,” summer shoots back immediately.
“you usually flirt with them for ten minutes and then disappear.”
“wow,” dean says dryly, shaking his head slightly. “good to know my own sister thinks so highly of me.”
“am i wrong?”
dean opens his mouth to respond before his eyes flicker briefly toward you, something quieter slipping into his expression for a split second.
“…this is different.”
the words come out softer than intended.
realer too.
silence immediately fills the car and you feel your breath catch in your throat.
what could he possibly mean by that?
summer notices instantly. of course she does.
“…wait a damn minute.”
“summer,” you warn quickly, heat rushing violently to your cheeks.
“NO,” she practically shouts, “hold on. my brother is voluntarily driving my best friend home, threatened a man for touching her and is now flirting with her in my presence?”
dean smirks beside you, entirely unhelpful.
“i’m not flirting,” he says smoothly.
you turn toward him in disbelief. he catches your expression immediately and his grin widens.
“what?” he asks innocently. “you nervous, sweetheart?”
his voice lowers, just enough in an attempt for the words to be heard by you alone.
your heart nearly stops.
“dean,” you hiss quietly, staring at him in horror.
summer audibly chokes on the other end of the line.
“OH MY GOD.”
dean laughs under his breath again, clearly enjoying himself far too much now that he knows how flustered you are.
“summer,” he says teasingly, “you’re being dramatic.”
“dramatic?” she repeats incredulously. “you just called my best friend sweetheart like you’re in a damn romance movie.”
“did i?” dean muses casually, though the smug look he sends you says otherwise entirely. “must’ve slipped out.”
you genuinely consider throwing yourself out of the moving vehicle.
“i hate both of you,” you mumble, covering your face with your hands.
dean laughs softly beside you, reaching over without thinking before gently tugging one of your hands away from your face.
“don’t hide from me now,” he murmurs teasingly. “you were doing so well.”
and somehow, impossibly, that affects you more than any of the flirting.
because despite the teasing grin on his face and the amusement laced through his voice, dean’s touch is careful.
gentle.
like he’s holding something he already cares about.
caught on thanksgiving | dean di laurentis ✶
summary: in which beau walks in on his younger sister tangled up in dean’s lap moments before thanksgiving dinner, forcing the entire hockey house to endure one painfully awkward meal filled with knowing looks, relentless chirping, and dean very seriously considering transferring schools.
pairing: dean di laurentis x maxwell!reader
note: hello! i hope you're all well. i've got a few exciting things planned so make sure you stay tuned! i hope you enjoy!! <3
ꪆৎ
the late afternoon sunlight filters softly through the thin blinds of dean's bedroom, casting warm golden stripes across it.
dean appreciated the moments he spent over thanksgiving with his friends more than anything. there were times however, when all he wanted was to spend time alone, in the presence of just you.
now, was one of those times.
dean's hand slides slowly along your waist as he shifts closer toward you on the bed, guiding you naturally into his lap without breaking the kiss.
you swiftly reposition yourself so that you're straddling him, your arms wrapped loosely around his neck while his hands remain on either sides of your waist, keeping you steady.
“dean,” you laugh quietly against his mouth.
“hm?”
“everyone’s downstairs.”
“guess we'll just have to be quiet then.”
you pull back slightly, your cheeks turning a crimson red from his words.
“tucker will literally come looking for us.”
dean's lips find your collarbone, lingering at a spot he had learned was your weakness, smiling faintly to himself when he feels you react beneath him.
“tucker’s got bigger priorities right now, most of them involving food.”
you laugh softly again before his face moves closer towards yours, closing the very minimal distance that had been separating the two of you. he cups your cheek before planting a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.
his lips were warm and soft, familiar in a way that made your chest loosen instantly. your lips parted slightly as you smiled into the kiss, and he took the opening to deepen it for a brief moment before gently pulling back. his hand stayed cradling your cheek, thumb lingering there as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go.
"still think it's an issue that everyone's home?" he questions teasingly, watching as you shake your head in response.
the room feels warmer now.
smaller somehow.
your fingers slide through the hair at the nape of his neck and dean lets out the softest exhale against your lips, the sound nearly making your brain stop functioning entirely.
“you have no idea what you do to me, y/n” he murmurs quietly.
your cheeks flush instantly.
“dean.”
“what?” he asks innocently, though the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth ruins the act completely.
you shake your head, trying to hide your smile while he watches you with obvious amusement.
god, he loved flustering you.
his hands pause briefly at the hem of your top, his gaze flicking up toward yours.
“is this okay?”
there’s something almost unfair about how gentle he sounds when he says it. you nod immediately, fingers curling lightly into the front of his sweater.
“yeah.”
his expression softens slightly at your answer before he slowly lifts your top upwards, careful not to rush you.
the cool air hits your skin instantly once the fabric disappears over your head, leaving you suddenly far more aware of the way dean is looking at you now.
like you’ve completely stolen every coherent thought from his brain.
his eyes drift slowly over you before he exhales quietly through his nose, almost like he forgot how to breathe properly for a second.
“you're beautiful, baby” he murmurs softly.
your cheeks warm immediately.
“stop it,” you laugh quietly, suddenly embarrassed beneath the intensity of his attention.
“what?” he asks innocently, though the awe in his voice is impossible to miss.
“just appreciating my girlfriend.”
his hands settle carefully against your waist again, thumbs brushing lightly against your skin while he leans forward to kiss you once more.
the kiss turns deeper almost instantly.
slower.
warmer.
dean’s fingers slide gently along your back before stopping against the clasp of your bra.
you feel him hesitate slightly.
not nervous exactly.
just careful.
like he always was with you.
“this still okay?” he asks quietly against your lips.
you nod softly, your forehead resting briefly against his.
“yes.”
his lips curve upwards faintly before he presses another soft kiss against your mouth, one hand still resting securely at your waist while the other awkwardly attempts to undo the clasp behind your back.
you feel his fingers fumble slightly before he exhales dramatically.
“who invented these things?” he mutters under his breath.
you laugh softly against his lips.
“struggling there?”
“i’m being set up for failure.”
his fingers brush clumsily against your skin again before he narrows his eyes in concentration.
“seriously,” he mumbles.
"i spend six days a week throwing around hundreds of pounds in the gym, and a tiny clasp is what humbles me."
you grin, shifting slightly to help him.
“maybe because you’re rushing.”
his cheeks flush immediately while a crooked smile appears across his face.
“can you blame me?”
your stomach flips embarrassingly fast at the tone in his voice.
a second later there’s finally a soft click as dean succeeds.
“holy shit,” he breathes quietly, sounding genuinely relieved.
you laugh harder this time as he shakes his head once in disbelief at himself.
“don’t laugh at me,” he says, though he’s smiling too.
his hands slide carefully along your sides afterwards, touch soft and warm as he presses a trail of kisses beneath your jaw again.
“i love you,” he murmurs quietly against your skin.
your heart melts instantly. dean was always like this with you, sweet and gentle in all the ways that mattered most. beneath the confidence, the teasing grin, and the easy charm he showed everyone else, there was this softer side reserved just for you.
your fingers drift beneath the hem of his sweater, tracing lightly along the defined muscles of his stomach and dean exhales quietly at the feeling.
his forehead rests briefly against yours afterwards, cheeks flushed, hair messy beneath your hands. he was completely gone for you.
“you’re staring again,” you whisper teasingly.
“can you blame me?”
his words linger between you before he leans in again, pressing another kiss just beneath your jaw. you close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself sink into the warmth of it, quietly savouring the feeling.
“you’re trouble, di laurentis.”
“yeah", he responds easily, lips brushing your skin again, “but you love me for it.”
before you can respond, the bedroom door suddenly swings open and everything freezes instantly.
“yo tucker said-”
beau stops mid sentence, his jaw falling agape.
silence.
absolute silence.
your eyes widen immediately as you turn toward the doorway while dean goes completely still beneath you. beau stands there holding his phone in one hand, his expression blank with horror.
pure horror.
his eyes flick between you sitting in dean’s lap, dean’s hands still very obviously around your waist, and the fact that neither of you had moved fast enough to make the situation look any better.
your discarded top is somewhere on the other side of the room, leaving you painfully aware that you're still only wearing your bra.
before you can even think of what to say, dean's arm tightens around you, pulling you closer against his chest. one hand slides up between your shoulder blades as he angles his body in front of yours, shielding you from beau's line of sight.
the movement is instinctive.
“oh my god,” beau says flatly.
dean immediately drops his forehead against your shoulder, keeping you tucked against him.
“please leave," dean murmurs, his voice coming out slightly muffled.
"i just watched my best friend practically inhale my sister."
you let out a horrified noise while dean groans louder, his grip on your waist tightening
"beau-" dean says into your shoulder, sounding like he's reconsidering every life choice that led to this moment.
“jesus christ, no-”
beau cuts him off instantly, physically pointing at both of you now.
“absolutely not. don’t talk to me right now.”
you feel your face burning with embarrassment while beau physically turns his head toward the hallway ceiling like he’s asking god for strength.
“i’m actually sick. this is why i don't come over here often” he mutters, more to himself and under his breath than to the both of you.
“you knocked for half a second!” dean argues weakly.
beau looks offended. “because i didn't expect to walk into this!"
"that sounds like a personal mistake" dean taunts.
you bury your face in your hands immediately, unable to face your brother who is still stood in the doorway of your boyfriends room.
dean leans back against the bedhead, dragging a hand down his face dramatically.
“i’m transferring schools.”
“good,” beau replies immediately. “do that.”
despite the awkwardness of the situation, a laugh slips out.
beau looks personally betrayed.
“y/n.”
“i’m sorry!”
“no you’re not.”
beau shakes his head once before backing toward the hallway again.
“dinner’s ready in ten,” he says flatly. “and if either of you make this weird downstairs, i’m telling tucker exactly what i walked in on.”
dean’s eyes widen slightly.
“you wouldn’t.”
beau stares at him.
“watch me.”
then he disappears back into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. silence settles over the room again and dean drops his head back against the wall with a groan.
“we’re never recovering from that.”
you burst into laughter immediately, the awkwardness and humour of the situation finally setting in.
dean points at you accusingly. “this isn’t funny.”
“him saying you inhaled me absolutely was.”
he narrows his eyes before suddenly pulling you closer towards him. you laugh softly as his hands settle back against your waist, familiar and warm.
“still worth it,” he murmurs quietly.
your heart melts embarrassingly fast.
“you’re ridiculous.”
a giddy grin slowly spreads across dean’s face before he shakes his head once.
“your brother is a goddamn cockblock.”
you gasp softly in mock offence before playfully slapping his chest, causing a quiet laugh to fall from his lips.
“dean!”
“what?” he grins. “am i wrong?”
you attempt to slide off his lap again, already knowing if you stayed there any longer you’d never actually make it downstairs, but dean’s hands tighten immediately around your hips, keeping you firmly where you are.
your eyebrows raise slightly at him in confusion before you suddenly feel him shift beneath you.
your breath catches instantly.
dean’s cheeks flush almost immediately as your mouth falls open slightly in realisation.
“dean heyward-di laurentis,” you whisper, horrified and amused all at once. his eyes squeeze shut briefly as he lets out another groan.
“don’t say my full name like that,” he mutters miserably.
“makes me sound guilty.”
“you are guilty.”
“yeah,” he sighs dramatically, glancing up at you again.
“but in my defence, look at you.”
your face warms instantly at the sincerity hidden beneath his teasing tone but before you can respond, a loud voice echoes up from downstairs.
“if you idiots don't get down here right now i'm starting dinner without you.”
tucker.
immediately, your eyes widen.
“shit.”
dean drops his forehead against your shoulder dramatically. “ignore him.”
“dean.”
“five more minutes.”
“absolutely not.”
he sends you the most painfully pleading look imaginable, his hands still secure against your waist like he thinks physically holding onto you will somehow convince you to stay.
when it very unfortunately almost works, dean notices instantly. his lips twitch upwards slightly, excitement taking over his features.
“baby,” he says softly, voice lower now, “c’mon.”
you narrow your eyes at him immediately. “don’t baby me right now.”
“that sounded way meaner than i think you intended.”
you laugh quietly and dean realises immediately that you aren’t giving in. he places both hands over his face before tilting his head back against his bed dramatically, letting out the most exaggerated groan imaginable.
you laugh harder at the sight in front of you.
“i’m glad one of us finds this funny,” he mutters, though there’s obvious amusement hidden beneath his embarrassment. he stands up slowly, still holding onto your waist as he pulls you up with him.
your hands naturally slide around the back of his neck while dean rests his forehead lightly against yours.
“i’ll tell them you’re in the bathroom and coming down in a few minutes,” you hum softly before leaning up to place a quick kiss against his cheek.
dean exhales quietly at the feeling before narrowing his eyes slightly.
“you’re so gonna pay for this one day, y/n.”
you smirk immediately. “is that a threat?”
“a promise.”
you laugh softly before turning toward the bedroom door. you barely make it two steps before dean’s hand lands sharply against your ass.
you gasp audibly, spinning around immediately.
“di laurentis!”
he shrugs innocently despite the smirk painted all over his face.
“sorry. couldn’t help myself.”
you roll your eyes, trying and failing not to smile.
“don’t be too long or tucker will rip into you,” you warn teasingly before slipping out into the hallway.
the noise downstairs grows louder the second you descend the staircase. thanksgiving at the hockey house was always chaos in the best possible way.
the kitchen smells overwhelmingly like garlic, rosemary and whatever tucker accidentally burned earlier, despite promising he was following his mother's recipe book, step by step. music plays faintly somewhere near the living room while everyone talks over each other.
logan notices you first, which is unfortunate.
he’s leaning back in one of the dining chairs beside grace when his eyes flick toward you coming down the stairs. immediately, his eyebrows lift knowingly.
oh no.
you suddenly become very aware of the fact that you hadn’t checked yourself in the mirror before leaving dean’s room. you feel your cheeks warm instantly as you quickly move toward the table, silently praying dean hadn’t left any visible marks on your neck.
logan watches you the entire way down, very amused.
you slide into your seat beside hannah while trying your hardest to look normal. logan leans back slightly in his chair across from you, arms folded casually.
“where’s dean?” he asks, feigning innocence.
your eyes narrow immediately.
he knows something...or at least suspects something.
“bathroom,” you answer casually, reaching for your water glass. “he’ll be down in a minute.”
“hm,” logan hums thoughtfully, clearly entertained. beside him, garrett glances between the two of you with immediate suspicion.
“why are you both acting weird?”
“we’re not,” you answer far too quickly.
logan snorts. grace lowers her drink slowly, eyes widening slightly as realisation dawns across her face.
“oh my god.”
your heart drops.
“what?” hannah asks immediately, now invested in the conversation before her.
logan grins lazily. “nothing.”
“logan,” grace says, already laughing slightly, “you totally know something.”
before he can answer, beau walks back into the kitchen holding a drink. the second his eyes land on you sitting at the table, he physically pauses before narrowing his eyes.
oh, absolutely not.
logan catches it instantly.
“why do you look traumatised?” he asks him.
beau grabs a roll off the table aggressively.
“don’t worry about it.”
his response of course only makes everyone more interested.
tucker emerges from the kitchen carrying a tray dramatically. “why does it feel like i missed gossip?”
“you did,” beau mutters darkly.
your face burns immediately.
logan’s grin grows wider.
“oh my god,” hannah says slowly, eyes flicking toward you. “did something happen?”
“nothing happened,” you say quickly.
you hear a laugh from across the table, and garrett points directly at you, “that sounded guilty.”
beau lets out a humourless laugh from across the table. “you have no idea.” before anyone can interrogate him further, dean finally appears at the top of the stairs.
slightly flushed.
sweater sleeves pushed up messily.
hair completely ruined.
logan notices instantly and nearly chokes on his drink.
“holy shit,” he laughs.
dean stops halfway down the stairs. “what?”
“you look insane.”
dean flips him off automatically continuing downstairs. the second he reaches the table, beau looks at him in complete disbelief.
“you came down looking like that voluntarily?”
dean freezes briefly, too briefly.
everyone notices.
tucker’s eyes widen dramatically. “wait.”
“don’t,” dean warns immediately.
“wait,” tucker repeats louder, pointing between the both of you now.
“oh my god.”
“tucker,” you say quickly, your cheeks beginning to flush a deep shade of crimson red.
“no wonder you two disappeared.”
dean drags a hand down his face while logan loses his mind laughing beside grace.
“i hate this house,” dean mutters
“you should,” beau replies immediately. “after what i witnessed.”
silence
then-
hannah gasps loudly and garrett chokes on his drink.
grace physically grabs allie’s arm and tucker slams both hands dramatically against the table.
“YOU WALKED IN ON THEM?”
#your husband is coming 🎶
OFF CAMPUS ⏤ 1.06, “The Breakaway”
the most evil couple you know attend your court case
Sir?? Looking this hot while getting arrested?? They are locking him up for the crime of being too sexy 💔
i bet it feels good as fuck to intend to do something and then actually do it