#but i can do better here i can always do better here and i should do better here

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

mean!rafe slowly getting soft for reader but she realizes what sort of sick person he really is so she leaves him and now rafe is the desperate one (this would be really appreciated pretty!!!)

i loved, i loved, i loved you

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — talks of murder, stalking, manipulation

summary — after overhearing a conversation between your boyfriend and his best friend, you begin to rethink your decisions.

authors note — can be read as a standalone but is apart of the mean!rafe series. part 1 is “i just wanna be one of your girls” and part 2 is “but i’ll do anything for you.” i’ll probably make a masterlist for this cause it’s probably going to end up turning into a series tbh so lmk if i should do that! please request more!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“baby?” you heard him call out from the living room as the front door shut. he shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack then followed the smell of food into the kitchen where you stood all pretty. you had a cute little pink sundress on, a white apron with a ribbon adorning the middle, and your hair was perfectly curled. “you look like a fucking dream.”

he walked over to where you were standing and pulled you into him with his big hands lightly squeezing at your hips. “thank you, rafe. i made your favorite,” you replied with a smile on your glossed lips as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “how was work?”

a sigh left his lips and his body tensed. “same thing as usual. nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” he said with a kiss to your temple. “i missed you, angel.”

you frowned slightly and hugged him. “i missed you too, rafe.” you nuzzled into his chest deeper and he held you close, taking in the delightful scent of your shampoo. you pulled away a little sooner than he would’ve liked and pulled out his designated chair at the table. “why don’t you eat before the food gets cold?”

he nodded and sat down, laying the napkin over his lap and unraveling one pack of utensils you spent your afternoon packaging up to look professional. you sat across from him in your own seat and waited for him to take his first bite before beginning to eat your own.

he wrapped up some of the noodles on his fork and placed it carefully into his mouth while you sucked in a breath and waited for his validation. “it’s amazing, sweetheart,” he praised while getting more onto his fork. “you always prepare the best, you know that.”

you smiled to yourself and glanced down at your own plate, a red blush spreading across your cheeks. you began to eat as you two sat in a comfortable silence and enjoyed the pasta.

once he finished and was getting ready to get up and place his dish in the sink, you stood and beat him to it. “i’ve got it,” you said softly. you knew how long and draining his work days were and you’d do anything to make the rest of his day better.

“thank you, angel,” he replied gratefully while standing and brushing past you with a loving squeeze to your hip. “i’ve gotta finish up some stuff on my laptop. i’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

you nodded and began to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen. once you were all finished, you neatly folded your apron and placed it in the closet in the living room before heading up the stairs and to the office to see if he needed anything. before you could even knock, you heard a loud bang, which you assumed was his fist against his desk.

“goddamnit barry! i fuckin’ told you that i had it handled,” he spat into his phone. “i took care of him, alright? they got rid of the body, the evidence, all of it and now you’re over here screwing it up.”

the body? you placed a hand over your mouth to cover the sob threatening to slip past your lips. you pressed your ear closer to the door and waited for him to speak again.

you heard him curse under his breath and laugh angrily. “it was all going to plan and then—“ he paused. “get rid of him. do whatever you have to do, just fuckin’ get rid of him. i’ll do it myself if i have to.”

a tear hit your hand and you quickly backed away from the door and quietly walked into your shared bedroom. you immediately began throwing clothes into a bag until you heard the office door open. you shoved it under your bed and sat at the edge of it.

he came in and immediately made his way over to you, kneeling in front of you and holding your hands in his. “hey. what’s wrong, sweet girl?”

you just shook your head and faked a sad smile. “i jus’ miss you, rafe,” you lied as convincingly as you could.

he sighed. “i know, baby. and i’m sorry,” he mumbled softly. “look. i gotta go handle something really quick but we can spend the whole night together the moment i get back, ok? i promise.”

a shaky breath left your lips as you nodded and allowed him to kiss you then your forehead as he stood and made his way out towards the front door. the moment you heard it shut, you packed everything you could and sprinted out towards your car. you didn’t know how much time you had until he got back.

you were quick to disable your location on everything and turn on do not disturb before speeding off towards your parents house an hour away. you hoped it would be far enough and undisclosed so he’d never find you.

and only 30 minutes into the drive, you had 72 missed calls and 101 texts from rafe.

[urno1luv]

perverted older sister giselle

cw: stepcest,

-makes the most vulgar jokes in public settings with no shame

- always too handsy, rubbing shoulders, patting backs, or getting too close under the pretense of being friendly. "you look cold, baby. come to unnie, let me make you nice and warm."

- DEFINITELY exterts control using her authority as you big sister, guilt-trips or humiliation to get what she wants, calling you "uptight" if you reject her "friendliness"

- will tell the nastiest, most graphic, gory stories in a casual conversation just to watch you squirm.

You’ve always known Giselle... liked you. In a different way than how siblings should like each other. Ever since your parents remarried, she made it her mission to watch over you. At first, it was sweet—walking you to school, making sure you ate enough, warning you about boys who "only wanted one thing." But as you got older, something about her love started to feel... off.

Tonight is no different. You’ve just finished showering, wearing an oversized T-shirt as you towel-dry your hair. The bathroom is warm with steam when you step out, only to find Giselle sitting on your bed, legs crossed, waiting.

"You were in there for a while," she muses, tilting her head. Her dark eyes flicker with something unreadable. "Were you doing something naughty?"

Your face heats up as you prepare to defend yourself. "What? ...Giselle. I was just showering."

She snickers, patting the spot beside her. "Come here. Let me dry your hair."

You hesitate. You know better than to argue—she always finds a way to get what she wants. With a sigh, you sit down. Giselle hums softly as she runs the towel over your damp strands, her freezing fingers grazing your neck, sending shivers down your back.

"You smell so fucking nice," she murmurs. "I bet everyone is looking at you, huh?"

You tense. "Not really."

She chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. "Good. They don’t deserve you." Her fingers trail down to your shoulder, squeezing just a little too tight. "I worry about you, you know. You’re too soft. Too... delicate. What if someone takes advantage of you? Unnie cant let that happen, no, not at all."

"I can take care of myself," you mumble.

Giselle leans in, her breath warm against your ear. "No, you fucking can’t." There’s something possessive in her voice, something that makes your stomach twist. "That’s why I’m here. To protect you. No one does that better than I do."

You swallow hard. The words should be comforting, but they aren’t. Not when she says them like that. Not when her hands linger, dropping to your wasit, not when her eyes darken, not when her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

You force a laugh, trying to shake the moment off. "You’re so weird, Giselle."

She grins, pressing a long kiss to your cheek, right besdie the corner of your upper lip, before finally pulling away. "Only for you, baby."

And as she finally leaves your room, you exhale, only now realizing you’d been holding your breath.

part two explicit version coming soon xx

[baronessvonglitter]

Guessing Game

stepdad!Javier Pena x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.8K

Summary: Your stepfather is a DEA agent. When he finds drugs in your room you have to find a way to keep yourself out of trouble.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Step-cest (if that's an ick for you please do not read - you are responsible for the content you consume 🖤). Age gap (reader is early twenties, Javi is mid-to-late forties). Reader wears makeup and a dress and has hair long enough to get in her face. Cocaine use. Sexual proposition/exploitation. Dub con. (Reader is high during the act.) Oral (m receiving). Drug use during oral. Come swallowing. Fingering. *Spanish terms at the bottom. If I've missed anything please lmk!

Author's note: Big thanks to those of you who asked about this when it was just a baby wip -- now it's fully grown and I so appreciate the support! 💜

JAVIER PENA MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"Please tell me you're coming out tonight."

You pause a moment before answering your friend Gabi, switching your phone to your other ear as you check your reflection in the mirror. You apply dark burgundy lipstick to your bottom lip: Guessing Game by MAC, and top it with a swipe of clear gloss.

"I'll be there. You can bet your tits on that," you tell her with a smirk before you end the call.

Sure, you're technically still in trouble for staying out all night the past weekend. That's the thing that sucks about  commuting to college instead of moving out-- having to stay under your mom's roof and adhere to her rules.

Not just her rules, oh no. Your new stepfather is a hard-ass too, and a DEA agent on top of that. Javier Peña's over half your age and a stickler for rules. He's down your throat any chance he gets when you talk back to your mom or do anything that he finds disrespectful. 

It's stressful having to walk such a thin line. You deserve to go out tonight and show off the slinky, short black dress you're secretly borrowing from your mom's closet. It's not like she wears stuff like this anymore. She won't miss it for one night.

Almost ready to go, you do a last minute checklist. The only thing missing from your purse is your baggie. 

Shit! Where is it? You check your usual hiding place but find nothing. Your stomach swirls with unease.

"Looking for this?"

You turn to the sound of the deep voice coming from your doorway. There stands Javier, big bad DEA stepdad, holding your baggie of coke between thumb and forefinger.

"That's not mine," you automatically deny. 

"Bullshit," he mutters, stepping into the room. "I found it in here earlier. You want to tell me what you're doing with cocaine, chiquita?"

"Like I said, it's not mine," you insist. Deny, deny, deny. 

"How stupid do you think I am, huh? Just be damn glad I found it and not your mother. She'd kick your ass out on the streets for having this." The offending white powder in its baggie looks tiny in his large hand.

"Did I interrupt your big plans tonight?" he asks smoothly, shutting your bedroom door behind him. "Were you gonna go out and party, do a few lines, let some pendejo fuck you up the ass?"

"Javi!" You instinctively cover yourself as his eyes linger over your figure in that short, tight dress.

He comes around the bed, towering over you as you sit on the edge. Still in his suit and tie and his hair still in its neat, swept-to-the-side style, you imagine he must have just gotten off work. His dark eyes challenge you to do one more thing to piss him off. Despite the severe disdain you hold for one another, in the back of your mind you've always wanted to fuck him. Him being alone with you in your room, that dangerous, pissed-off look in his eyes only serves to make you wet. 

"You should know better," he says. "I can't have a fucking druggie for a stepdaughter."

"I'm sorry," you mumble. "But you shouldn't be going through my shit anyway."

"That's not a fucking apology, cariño," he gripes. "When you say 'sorry, but' that means you're not truly fucking sorry."

"You're giving me a fucking semantics lesson now?"

"Don't fucking talk back to me," he growls. "I'm not your mom, I'll beat your ass."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Keep it down, she's asleep in the next room."

It's late and by now your mom's taken her sleeping pill. You'd counted on her staying practically unconscious as you snuck out. Until Javi came along. You don't know what his plot is but the fact that he's here in your room with the door closed and it's half past midnight gives you a feeling that he wants something he shouldn't be asking for.

"Just.. give it back to me. I'll flush it, I promise."

A dark chuckle leaves his throat and sends a chill up your spine. He holds the baggie out and flicks it with his finger. "Who's your plug, baby? Give me that much. Possession with intent to distribute is a worse crime than just possession. You could get off with just a slap on the wrist if you just give me a name."

"I'm not telling you shit.."

"That stubborn, eh, princesita?" He smirks at even you have to admit he's a little handsome when he looks at you like that. But you still fucking hate him. You make a low sound in your throat, akin to a growl.

“You got something in your throat, chica?”

“No.. but I’d like to..”

His gaze darkens as he looks down at you, that barely-there dress leaving so little to the imagination. He recognizes it from his wife's closet, the very same dress she wore when they went on their first date. And now it fits you like a second skin. "Careful, chica. You might be an adult under the law, but you have no idea what the real fucking world is like."

"What are you gonna do, turn me in?" you challenge him.

"Maybe we can come to a compromise," he says, his gaze on your wet, glossy, darkened lips. "I'll keep quiet about the drugs if you do something for me."

"Like what?" You lean back on the bed, acting bored with the conversation though you're secretly glad he's about to let you off the hook.

"You're a smart girl. Use your imagination."

You separate your gaze from his, traveling down to the prominent bulge in his trousers.

"You're disgusting, you know that? Exploiting your own stepdaughter like that.."

He shrugs. "I have no problem bringing you in for this. It's a shame, though. You're a bright kid, you have your whole future ahead of you. You gonna let a little cocaina put an end to all that?"

"Fuck you," you mutter, sitting up. What does it matter anyway? It's just a dick. Not like you haven't sucked a few in your time. "Fine. I fucking blow you and you don't tell anyone about the coke, okay?"

A little smile curls his lips upward. "Deal, princesita."

He puts the baggie on the nightstand where you can't reach it and turns to you, hands on his hips. You realize he's waiting for you to start. 

Smart guy, having you make the first move so it's not on him later. "Nobody knows about this, either," you demand, your fingers hovering just over his belt buckle.

His breath hitches before answering, excitement hidden in his voice. "Just between us."

You feel your heartbeat in your throat as you undo his belt and pants, letting them fall to the floor. He's wearing white briefs, though you know him to typically go commando when he's not working.

"That's it, bebita linda," he coos as you free him from his underwear. His thick erection curves upward, slapping his belly as it swells and rises. Your mouth waters just feasting your eyes upon it.

"Ain't got all night," he grumbles.

"So fucking impatient," you grumble back, wrapping your hand around his hefty cock. It's bigger than any you've ever had, already weeping from the tip. Without hesitation you lick up the salty precum, delighting in the way his breath catches in his throat.

"It's not gonna suck itself," he grunts, putting his hand on the back of your head and pushing you towards him. "C'mon, baby, wanna see that pretty lipstick ruined and slopped all over my cock. The deal doesn't count if you're just gonna give it kitten licks."

Grabbing the base in one hand you slide the tip between your lips. Already it feels like too much, but you're not going to let him think he's got the best of you. 

"Open wide, baby, I know you can suck a cock better than that."

Forcing back an exasperated sigh you practically unhinge your jaw to get your whole mouth around him, his fat cockhead hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. Javi laughs as you pull away.

"You a fucking amateur, mia linda?" he chuckles. "Or am I just too big for that bratty mouth?"

"Fuck you."

He grabs you by the chin and forces you to look up at him. Your eyes are big, wide, a hint of fear there mixed with desire. "Be good for me. Or do you need something more to keep you sweet?"

He reaches for the baggie and scoops out a small amount, making a nice line on the top of his cock. 

"C'mon, do a line for me, sugar." He brings your head down and immediately you snort the white powder off his dick.

"There you go.. putting those vices to good use for once. Now maybe you'll suck my cock like the proper little slut you are."

You're still sniffling up the remnants of the coke when he shoves himself inside your mouth again, the bitter taste of the drug mixing with the salty taste of his flesh. 

"Relax your throat," he commands. "I can't believe I have to tell you how to suck a cock," he tsk-tsks.

Your eyes are brimming over with tears as you take him deep inside your throat. He stays there, guiding your movements with his hands on the back of your head. You start to breathe through your nose as your airway gets stuffed full of Javi's throbbing dick.

"Just look at that pretty mouth, pretty purple lips spread open wide around my cock," he whispers. "That's right, baby, get my cock all messy with your lipstick."

He lets you pull away from him to catch your breath before pushing back in, thrusting into your mouth. Whether you like it or not, saliva fills your mouth, making the slide in easier. If he knew your pussy was getting just as wet right now he'd take full advantage.

By now the coke is taking effect, making your heart flutter, and your pleasure receptors are buzzing off the charts. If you were only a reluctant participant before, you're voracious now. You put all your effort into blowing Javier, eager for his moans and sharp curses, even when he pulls out and taps your cheek with his dick you can't help but giggle, seeking him out with your tongue so you can drag it along his length.

Soon you're getting into a rhythm, following his lead as he thrusts into your mouth, pulling you away, only to push in again, stuffing you full and deep as he grabs your hair. Your mascara runs down your face, black streaks down your cheeks, lipstick smeared, Javi's dick now a strange purple.

He likes watching his whole member disappearing inside you, excited by the way you're learning to take him. He stops playing nice and stuffs himself down your throat, shoving himself deep and thrusting shallowly while your arms flail in a vain attempt to push away from him.

"Nuh-uh.. we agreed. I can just take you in right now, all wrecked and ruined. I can already see the mugshot. Bet your mama would be so proud," he says sarcastically.

"Fuck you," you manage to say, lips swollen, saliva running down your chin and neck.

"Hey, that's not very ladylike. Then again, you're not much of a lady, are you? Now suck."

He thrusts inside you again, even though you gag on him, tasting the bitterness of your own bile creeping up your gullet.

"If you puke on me I'll just keep going. You think I'm worried about a little vomit?"

You force down the remnants of your dinner from earlier, simultaneously bringing him deeper into your mouth.

"Lift up that dress for me, want you to play with your pussy while you're sucking me off," he says, stuffing your mouth full with more of him.

You do as he says, picking up the hem of the dress over your hips and sticking your hand under your black lace thong. You're drenched and Javier can see it, smell your arousal as it fragrances the air between you. He's never smelled a sweeter pussy. 

"That's right, circle that pretty little clit for me, mamacita," he grunts, exiting your mouth to pull back and watch you for a little, a long thick string of saliva connecting between your lips and his dick. You look totally wrecked and he's not even done yet.

You work on yourself, pressing your clit, your little gasps fueling Javier's need. "There you go, drive yourself crazy for me," he says.

You dip your fingers inside your warm cunt, closing your eyes as you seek out the relief from the heat building between your thighs. "Nu-uh, baby, eyes on me," he purrs slipping back in, thrusting deep and slow, watching you, feeling how good it is when you moan around his dick.

"Perfect, fucking perfect," he moans when you deep throat him again, your tongue peeking out to lick his balls. "Fuck," he says, tightening the grip he has on your hair. "Freaky mamacita, aren't you? Done this before, haven't you? To a lot of guys, I bet."

You whimper around his dick, pulling away to get some air. You finger yourself into a frenzy and start to come. "Not yet," Javier growls, pulling you back onto his slobber-coated cock. "You gotta earn it if you wanna come," he tells you.

You whine about it but the energetic buzz the coke has given you is still at work, putting extra effort into sucking off your stepdad, a renewed energy and vigor to your mouth sucking his cock. 

"Damn, cariño.. you really want your bad little habit kept secret, huh?" Javier pants, head thrown back as you sloppily suck him off. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come.. gonna spray that sarcastic little bitchy mouth with my cum.. you ready?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, slamming into your mouth with urgency, not a care for your comfort until he bursts in your mouth and you have no choice but to taste the hot saltiness of his release.

He pulls out slowly, and when you try to spit out his release he shoves it back in with his fingers, effectively gagging you in the process. "Swallow," he commands, and you do so obediently just as his other hand finds its way to your core. 

He curls his fingers into the waistband, pulling the thong up, rubbing the material against your wanting and willing core, rubbing hard against your clit. It's pleasure bordering on pain.

"Fucking hell, look how soaked you are," he coos. He watches the way your stringy slick clings to the lace of your thong. "You got all wet sucking me off, didn't you? Dirty girl. Muy sucia." He rubs the pad of his thumb over your exposed clit and smirks when you start panting like a dog in heat, thighs open to him, head thrown back, your hair sticking to the mess of saliva and lip gloss on your mouth and chin.

"There it is.. just what you wanted, huh? What you think about every time you look at me. You dream about my cock in your mouth and my fingers in your cunt, just like this.." He delves two thick digits into your wetness while stroking your clit and it's embarrassing how quickly you come on his fingers, your core quivering around him, expelling more fluid, coating his hand.

"That's it," he says gently, staying inside you until the little aftershocks are complete and your body is utterly spent. Your mouth tastes like his cum and the lingering bitterness of the cocaine is at the back of your throat. Despite your orgasm being over your heart is still jackhammering away. The high of both the drug and the orgasm combine to leave you teetering on the edge of sanity.

"Drugged out and fucked out," Javier mutters, watching you as he removes his fingers. He lets out a small noise of approval, his thumb gently tracing along your lip and the edge of your tongue for a moment before slowly sliding it inside your mouth. “Taste yourself, princesa.”

You make a little sound of pleasure, swirling your tongue along his thumb, your gaze on him.

His free hand moves to tangle in your hair to keep your head still as he slowly pulls his thumb out of your mouth, a thin string of saliva connecting his finger to your tongue as he looks down at you with half lidded eyes. "God, you look so good down there, cariño." 

Then he pushes you back on the bed. "Such a fucking mess," he mutters, tucking his cock back in his briefs and doing up his pants again. "Go clean yourself up. And no more fucking coke, got it?" he growls as he leaves, taking the baggie with him.

"We're square now, bebita," he says, giving one last look to your prone form, your skin flushed and sweaty, legs splayed out like a true coke whore. "But if I ever catch you doing something like this again, I'll do more than fuck that sweet little mouth of yours."

*chiquita ~ little girl | pendejo ~ idiot | carino ~ dear | princesita ~ little princess | chica ~ girl | cocaina ~ cocaine | bebita linda ~ pretty baby | mamacita ~ gorgeous/hottie | muy sucia ~ very dirty

dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics 👑

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[carisa-ironfell]

If you're going to church just for the "sermon" and want to get pissy about getting "lectured" instead, you're not actually listening to what's being said (or your pastor isn't saying the right things) and you definitely aren't going to church for the right reasons. It's just autopilot at that point, just a pointless ritual that doesn't mean anything. And I know this from experience because that's WHY I stopped going to church. I wasn't getting anything useful out of it, and the environment was taxing my mental health instead of helping me heal. I wasn't growing, I was just miserable and angry and bitter.

The point of church, as I've always understood it ever since I was little, is to connect with the other members of your community and help each other learn and grow and continuously become better people, to follow Jesus' teachings and LOVE people. You go to church to LEARN, and when needed, to be guided back to the right path by your pastor and/or your peers. That's literally their job. For example, most of Paul's writings. (Paraphrased: Y'all are acting crazy, stop doing that. Here's how to fix it.)

You don't have to agree with others' choices in order to love them, and something that a LOT of Christians seem to miss is: if you're not getting through to someone and you can't change their mind, let it go. The seed is planted, and there's a chance that years down the line, God will speak to that person and they'll be ready to listen. Shouting in their face (literally or figuratively) is only going to make them get defensive and shut down and push that time further away.

Anyway. No one who claims to be Christian or any kind of servant of God should be rejoicing in mass slaughter. And I've had to listen to "Christians" rant about how great and amazing the nightmare in Palestine and other Middle Eastern conflicts are, and it makes me sick. Whether you agree with them or not, people don't deserve to die like that. And if there's a member of a church who tries to implore the president to do something positive about that whole disaster, don't get pissed off with them, because they seem to understand the teachings better than you do.

I don't really consider myself Christian. I want nothing to do with that (generalized) group of people, because I have yet to meet any of them who make sense to me and can help me grow. I believe in God, I do my best to act in ways that reflects Him, but until the church starts shaping up and actually behaving with love and compassion instead of hatred, I'm not involving myself with them. It's dismal to watch and it makes my heart ache. And I can only imagine God probably feels the same way in a lot of cases.

I wasn't expecting to say this much ._. Uhh, sorry if anyone actually reads this lol Be safe and well! With love, Reggie 🤍

The lack of self-awareness is truly astounding.

[aaagustd]

friends & lovers | jww (m)

title: friends & lovers pairing: jeon wonwoo x female reader genre/rating: fluff, smut, best friends to lovers,  idiots to lovers; 18+ summary: Sometimes the love you’re searching for has been right beside you all along. Patience is the key…the right moment will present itself eventually. wc: 2.2k warnings: swearing, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), restraints (wrist pinning), grinding/dry humping, clit stimulation, slight orgasm control, cumshots, crying, begging, soft sex, pet names, nipple play, cum play, aftercare release date: february 9th, 2025; 9:23pm est author’s note: Hello!! This was a bday gift I wrote for @beomcoups a while back. Huge shoutout to @hobeemin for beta reading it for me at the time. I’m currently moving all of my old content here, so if you’ve read this before don’t be alarmed lol. I’m the original author.

playlist: My Boo by Usher ft. Alicia Keys | Focus by NCT 127 | ‘bout you by Seventeen | Let Me Hold You by Bow Wow ft. Omarion  | Tonight I Celebrate My Love by Peabo Bryson & Roberta Flack | Candy by Baekhyun | By My Side by JUNNY | Boo’d Up by Ella Mai | Like You by Ciara & Bow Wow

masterlist | inbox | join my taglist | read on wattpad | read on ao3 | divider credit

“People are staring at us.”

You both giggle as the carousel makes its final round, shyly peeking over your shoulders at the crowd of people watching you. Somehow, Wonwoo managed to get the ride operator to start it up with just you two on. 

Both of you hopped from seat to seat like you used to do when you were kids, and your parents had to threaten to take you home if you didn’t remain seated. Although you’re adults now, you’re still fond of the old habit.

“So, let them,” you shrug. “Maybe they’ve got eyes for the cutie on the horse.”

“Can you stop?”

Wonwoo throws his head back when he laughs and clutches his stomach, giving you a glimpse of the smile you haven’t seen in months.

Ever since he and his girlfriend broke things off, he’s been cooped up in his apartment, feeling down and not wanting to be bothered. You’re glad he accepted your offer to go to the fair and take his mind off things. He says he’s fine and looks better than he did five months ago, but you know that something’s still bothering him, and you hope that tonight you can dig deep enough to find it.

“Why would I? This is fun.” 

You both step off as the ride stops, feeling high with adrenaline. Suddenly, you feel his fingertips at your sides, and he playfully tickles you, making you shriek and squirm. 

“Wonwoo!”

On-lookers coo and clutch their chest, mainly older couples and romantics. Neither of you even notices the admiration they have in their eyes until someone grabs your attention.

“You two are such a beautiful couple. May my husband and I have a picture with you? You just remind us of our younger selves,” a lady in her golden years asks with a genuine smile.

Immediately, you begin to break the news to her, but Wonwoo interferes.

“Oh, ma’am, we’re not—”

“Sure! I’ll take it. I have long arms,” he insists, taking her phone when she hands it to him. Wonwoo throws his arm over your shoulder and holds it high enough to capture all four of you. He takes the picture but doesn’t stop there. “Now one for us.”

After returning the woman’s phone to her and her husband, he pulls his device from his pocket and takes another, but this time he brings you in a bit closer. He wraps his arm around you a little tighter and whispers in your ear as he snaps the picture.

“For new memories,” he says to you.

You release a shaky breath when you disperse, and you can’t do anything but smile and wave as the couple bids their farewells. 

You never could explain the butterflies in your stomach whenever Wonwoo would be so close to you in that way. It always seems so intimate, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud. You know it’s only those buried feelings that are causing you to react this way and nothing you should feed into.

When you’re finally alone, you turn to him and ask, “So, what now? Are you ready to go?”

“A little bit,” he answers. 

“Well, don’t let me hold you up. I’m probably just gonna go grab something to eat until my roommate’s done fucking her boyfriend. I had fun, so thanks for coming—”

You pause when Wonwoo shakes his head.

“I said I was ready to leave here,” he informs. “Not leave you.”

“Oh, okay. So umm, where do you wanna go?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” he quizzes. “We can go grab something.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he continues.

“Or…we can meet at my place, and we can order something. You can stay over if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I don’t mind,” he assures.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you—”

Your mouth shuts when he gives you a look, but your smile grows when he turns away and starts walking toward the parking lot.

Both of you get in your vehicles and drive towards his apartment, the tingling sensation still coursing through your veins. You try your best to calm yourself before you get there, but as you get out of your car, your legs are wobbly and shaky, indicating that you are far from okay.

Wonwoo turns to you as his door opens.

“Wanna shower?”

Gratefully, you sigh. “Yes, please.”

After a shower, slices of pizza, and a couple of movies, you and Wonwoo lay awkwardly in his bed. Both of you scroll through your phones, trying to ignore the thick tension in the air. There’s something on his tongue; you can hear it. You want to ask him, but you don’t know how.

Eventually, you start to believe it’s just your nerves. You haven’t hung out like this since before his two-year-long relationship, so you figure you just need some re-adjusting. You wiggle your way towards him so you can familiarize yourself with the feeling of being so close to him.

It isn’t long before his fingers start playing in your hair, making your eyes slightly heavy. You roll over on your back so you can look at him and try to stop yourself from falling asleep so quickly.

His smile greets you and leaves you slightly curious.

“What?” you giggle.

“Nothing, I was just thinking.”

“About?”

He sighs. “I missed you. That’s all.”

When his eyes begin to wander, you follow them once they’ve set on a particular sight. It just happens to be your thighs, and you start tugging down your borrowed shirt upon the discovery.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, more to himself than anything.

You clear your throat. “Wonwoo, I’m glad you’re feeling like yourself again, but I don’t think I can be your rebound. I’m not—”

“What? No, love. It’s definitely not like that. It’s just…Fuck it.” He shifts in his spot so he can speak to you face to face, leaving you no option but to look at him, even though you’ve been avoiding eye contact since you got here. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“It’s about the breakup…why it happened,” he explains.

You blink a few times. You never knew the reason behind the split or how it happened; it wasn’t your place to ask. Now that he’s finally telling you, there’s an uneasy feeling growing inside of you.

“We broke up because we liked other people. She wasn’t over her ex, and I…”

“And you?...”

He takes a deep breath as if he’s about to lay it all on the table.

“I had to be honest with myself and admit that I’m really in love with my best friend,” he confesses.

Your eyes widen, lips ready to run a mile a minute, but he speaks before you do.

“I thought about this before, but the timing was just never right. And now…” he sighs. “I don’t know. I just feel like we’re on the same page, but then again, you’re looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“Wonwoo, I—”

“I know. You don’t feel the same.”

The disappointment in his voice gives you all the courage you need to come clean, and you do so before you can change your mind.

“I do feel the same,” you admit. “I’ve loved you since we were teenagers. I just never knew how to tell you.”

He seems a little shocked after hearing this.

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, his thumb tracing circles on your hand.

“Yeah.”

Your best friend just stares at you, not saying anything. You hold his gaze and never break eye contact. Moments go by like this, until eventually, his lips begin to hover over yours. They become more inviting the longer you lay there waiting for something to happen.

However, Wonwoo toughens up and makes the first move on your behalf. His mouth presses against yours delicately, and he lowers his body so that you can run your hands through his hair.

You envelop each other and get lost within the first shared kiss between two best friends who have been denying their love for one another for over a decade. The pit of your stomach goes into a frenzy as the butterflies rise and flutter wildly.

Dizziness clouds your mind as you’re swept away by the feeling. You’re light as a feather, so high that coming down seems impossible. 

It doesn’t help that Wonwoo’s lips have become greedier, and his desire is growing by the second. Your legs part to allow him in the space, and he takes the opportunity instantly. Your wrists get pinned above your head while he slowly begins to grind his crotch against yours.

A moan slips out, and he takes the chance to invade your mouth with his thick muscle. Your tongues begin exploring each other’s crevice, and you become drunk off his taste. You can’t get enough of him but the need for oxygen exceeds your lust-driven fantasies.

“I want you,” you say without much thought. Your breathing is labored and rough, but you still try to speak.  “I need you.”

“Fuck, same. But…”

“But what?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No condoms.”

His voice oozes with need, and his bulge is straining against his shorts. He’s as desperate as you are, but he’s trying to hold back.

“We’re good on this end. It’s okay,” you assure him. “Are you?...”

He nods. “Yes, of course. I haven’t since…”

“Well, can we?” you try again. “Please?”

“Okay, baby.”

Wonwoo lets go of your wrists and pulls down his shorts, letting his dick spring out freely. A small gasp escapes you when his length slaps your thigh. You lift your head to see it and instantly become mesmerized by its girth. You crave it and want it to fill every inch of you just like you’ve always fantasized about in your room alone.

“Like what you see?” He smirks when you nod and starts to run the tip up and down your slit, coating it with your arousal and secretly stimulating your throbbing clit. “Let’s see if you can take it.”

When he slowly enters you, your mind goes completely blank. You arch into him as he bottoms out, and he holds you and places kisses up your neck.

“Wonwoo,” you call, and he smiles against your skin.

“Ready for me?”

“Yes, please. I want to feel you.”

Wonwoo’s movements start strong, and he makes sure to hold you in place while he thrusts into you, preventing you from flying off the bed. You cry his name over and over with each powerful snap of his hips.

He lifts your shirt and exposes your breasts to his greedy mouth, taking his time with each stiffened peak and making your eyes roll back from the multiple sources of pleasure you’re receiving. 

The coil inside you tightens until it can no longer stand the pressure, and you blurt out a warning to inform Wonwoo of your orgasm.

“Wonwoo, I’m so close!”

“Me too, baby,” he moans in your ear. You run your nails down his sweaty back to ground yourself because it feels like your soul will leave your body any minute. Wonwoo goes deeper and deeper until you can no longer stand the build-up growing inside of you. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

And on his command, your body gives in, and the pleasure takes over you. Tears roll down your cheeks, but Wonwoo kisses you before the salty droplets can reach your trembling lips. Your entire body is set aflame by the heat coursing through you. The intense feeling leaves you a panting mess beneath Wonwoo, and you just lay there as he fucks you through the rest of your orgasm until he finally reaches his release.

“Fuck, where can I?”

“Anywhere you want,” you answer. “I don’t mind.”

He can only nod as he pulls out and paints your stomach with his warm cum. Wonwoo uses the tip to smear his arousal and spell his name on your skin, making you giggle and slap his arm.

“You’re nasty,” you tell him.

“Anywhere you want… I don’t mind,” he mocks but still leans down to kiss you. 

You pout when he pulls away and disappears into his bathroom for about a minute. When he returns, you’re grateful to see him with a warm washcloth and a new shirt for you. He cleans you up and helps you change before he turns out the lights and joins you in bed. Neither of you say anything at first, but eventually, he can’t hold his tongue anymore.

“I really am in love with you. I would have never done this had you not asked. You’re more than a rebound—”

“I know that, Wonwoo. We’re good, okay?”

You turn on your side so you can hug him, and he nestles in your embrace.

“So, are we keeping this a secret or…?”

You release a breath before you answer, absentmindedly playing in his brown locks. You think about your answer for a moment, and then you reply.

“As much as I want to keep you all to myself… I’ve waited all my life to call you my boyfriend.”

“So what does that mean?” he asks shyly.

“It means…” You tilt his head so he can look at you. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them the truth.”

Wonwoo smirks at you and returns to his position buried in your chest. He whispers as he drifts into his slumber.

“That’s my girl.”

And you couldn’t agree more.

[luckykiwiii101]

THE DEVIL DOESN’T WEAR SUBMISSION! SHE WEARS PRADA, OH!- AND NARCISSISM!

| | THE 411 ON HOW TO MANIFEST YOUR DREAM LIFE! | |

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

ཐི keep your head & heels high, and your middle finger higher ཋྀ

ཐི TABLE OF CONTENTS ཋྀ

✰ BELIEVING IN THE LAW ✰

✰ “AND WHO AM I? BETTER THAN YOU” ✰

✰SELF CONCEPT; BE NARCISSISTIC, THE GOSSIP GIRL WAY✰

✰ YOUR WAY IS THE RIGHT WAY & THE ONLY WAY ✰

✰ SPIRALS ARE ONLY FOR STAIRCASES ✰

p.s. psssst!! hey “void” worshippers, this is also for you. so read it. To everyone, take a day off to let all this information settle, it’s quite a lot!!

Welcome back Upper East Siders.

It’s often said that, no matter the truth, people see what they want to see. Some people might take a step back and find out that they’ve been looking at the same big picture all along. Some people see that their lies have almost caught up to them. Some people may see what was there all along.

But because you’ve fallen to submission, chances are that you’re blinded from the things that are right in-front of you. I’d call you legally blind but it’s a different type of law that you’re breaking.

Talk about secrets of the universe, but you’re living proof that knowledge doesn’t always mean wisdom, and that money can’t buy style, or class.

And if there’s one thing we all know about fashion, it’s that before putting an article of clothing on, you have to take one off, usually with the intention of putting another one back on. Or you’ll end up looking like a complete mess! or under your best friend’s BF! I hope S is taking notes…but even the biggest superstars need a stylist. And luckily for you, I have a friend who’s into fashion, and not just any fashion, high fashion, Little J, come out, come out wherever you are…

Oh wait! Almost lost track of my endless talents but i’m also great at fashion, and i’m simply just better. You can go back to crashing runways little J, and also just…running away.

✰ BELIEVING IN THE LAW ✰

First of all, I want you to know that all your dreams are possible and very easy. So this is for those doubtful upper east siders who forgot that the law of assumption is actually real, and not some joke made up by teenagers online.

Spend some time going through my law of assumption proof gallery to help clear your doubts in the law -> CLICK ME!

Now that you’ve boosted your faith in the law of assumption, of course you can believe 99%, but you’re going to have to fill that 1% on your own, through your own success.

✰ “AND WHO AM I? BETTER THAN YOU” ✰

Do you understand the law of assumption? -> CLICK ME

And do you understand who you actually are? Cause when someone asks, your only response should be “god”. -> CLICK ME

So how does “the void state” & “reality” work? In your favour, as usual -> CLICK ME

✰SELF CONCEPT; BE NARCISSISTIC, THE GOSSIP GIRL WAY✰

Spotted: Lonely boy’s rude awakening. Upper East Side Queens arent born at the top. They climb their way up in heels, no matter who they have to tread on to do it. Now what to wear with those heels…

Well, we hear narcissism’s in fashion, and rumour has it, she’s here to stay. But as I said before, putting a new outfit on requires taking the other off, and I ask disrespectfully, WHAT is that outfit!? You need a serious makeover! -> CLICK ME

A wise woman once said, the most dangerous enemies are the ones we never knew we had. And then there are those assumptions you never knew you held.

Now that you know why you kept failing previously, it’s time for your new self concept! And your permanent self concept. I promise, you’ll never fail again. You can’t do something impossible like failure. And since you understand the law and who you are (I AM) you know that failure simply isn’t possible.

What to wear? Failure? No. Narcissism. She looks much better on you anyway. Choose to wear the ugly outfit? Well I’ve got a friend on cyberspace who knows exactly what to do. And those flashes of clicked pics definitely aren’t coming from the paparazzi.

But I know, I know. “Narcissism” Isn’t that a bad thing? Not when it comes to being who you want. And all I mean is putting yourself on the highest pedestal. You’re going to completely fall in love with yourself, by becoming your desired self. That includes you void worshippers! Stop being submissive to the outer self. You dictate her, not the other way around. You’re going to be your desired self who has their dream life, no matter what. You’re above everyone and everything! Narcissistic, I like it.

First of all, remind yourself of what your dream life is and who you’re going to dedicate yourself to being. All good? Perfect! So here’s your new self concept & reminders to self -> CLICK ME

With this, what you’re going to do, is make your own personalised self concept guide. The one i’ve given you is only generalised to everyone’s use. I’ve given “directions” on where to add your own ideas, but don’t remove my ones because they’re extremely important and shouldn’t be ignored!! To make your own personalised self concept guide, just copy & paste the text on the template, and add your own ideas to your heart’s content, and decorate it to your liking & aesthetic. No harm in making it look pretty. Use pretty colours, pretty pics of your dream life etc. I recommend making yours on either notion, or tumblr. If you do end up making yours on tumblr, make it a private & pinned post so that you’ll see it on your front page and remember to come back to it. The only time you should ever open tumblr is to view your self concept guide or this post or the other ones i’ve made!!

Get into the state of being your desired self. Because that IS you. Embody your new self concept. Relish in it. Love it. You are going to fully immerse yourself into your new self concept. Finally, once and for all, be the real you. She’s been waiting for you.

✰ YOUR WAY IS THE RIGHT WAY & THE ONLY WAY ✰

A lot of upper east siders have been wondering. “What’s the right way to manifest?” Your way. Your way and only your way. Whatever you want is the right thing to do. You should already understand that from “enter the god state” post. That’s why it’s important that you personalise your own self concept guide!! YOU make the rules!

I hope you like the self concept template i’ve given you, and now you’re going to embody your dream self.

✰ SPIRALS ARE ONLY FOR STAIRCASES ✰

Need a wake up call? CLICK ME! They don’t call New York “the city that never sleeps” for nothing.

The purpose of the self concept guide and why it’s so important is to stop you from spiralling. Need guidance? Go back to the self concept guide and remind yourself of who you are.

Also, I have a post that really helps with spiralling. Come back to this every time you feel like spiralling -> CLICK ME

And don’t forget upper east siders, if you won’t do it out of love, do it out of spite. And you’re going to be bitch, at-least do it the right way. You’re the boss. The devil doesn’t wear submission, she wears prada, oh!- and narcissism. XOXO

- gossip girl

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

[chrissturnsfav]

⋆.˚✮ valentine's day with rapper!chris and singer!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬, this is a little longer than my usual blurbs :)

the night starts with chris strolling into the restaurant like he owns it, diamond chains catching the low golden light. his hand stays low on your back, a subtle claim, like the whole world should already know you’re his girl.

whispers ripple through the room—famous faces in every direction—but chris doesn’t give a single fuck. he pulls out your chair, smirking like he’s showing off, because he most certainly is.

"always gotta make a scene," you tease, sliding into the seat.

chris grins wide, his teeth glinting. "nah. the scene follows me."

you roll your eyes, biting back a laugh. "cocky fuck."

"yeah," he chuckles, rolling his eyes as he takes the seat across from you. "but you love that shit."

he’s not wrong.

dinner is stupid expensive but effortless—courses neither of you can even pronounce properly, champagne refilled before it ever empties. chris keeps the conversation wild, making you giddy, cracking jokes that make you laugh loudly even when you're trying to be proper.

"yo, you fancy as fuck right now, kid," he laughs, catching your van cleef rings glimmering in the dim light as you sip your drink.

"why, thank you," you giggle, cheeks warm.

"i told you i was gon’ do valentine’s right," chris says, nodding his head toward you before taking a sip of his champagne.

"right? you mean 'extra,'" you tease, narrowing your eyes.

he grins, shameless as he shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his seat, as if taking you out to the most expensive restaurant in paris is nothing. "my girl deserves the best, don't you think?"

you bite your lip, fighting a smile. he’s fucking impossible.

after dinner, chris pulls you close as you both head toward the eiffel tower. it’s packed with other couples—laughter floating through the air, lights shimmering against the dark sky.

you catch the glint of a paparazzi camera from the corner of your eye, and your stomach twists for a second, but chris clocks it immediately.

"fuck outta here," he mutters under his breath, shifting so his broad frame blocks the view. his arm stays wrapped firm around your waist, solid and reassuring.

"they always do too much," you huff, voice tight as you roll your eyes.

"nah, don’t trip," chris says low in your ear, "they ain't gon' fuck up my night wit' my girl."

you exhale, leaning into him. how does he always knows how to keep you grounded?

the tower looks like a dream, lights flickering like stars. chris keeps making jokes to make you laugh, pointing out couples in matching outfits or doing the most for their instagram pictures.

"we look better than all these mothafuckers combined," he says, dead serious.

"dude, shut up," you giggle, but your cheeks grow pink because maybe he’s right.

afterward, back at the hotel, your breath catches when you step inside the suite. heart-shaped red and pink balloons float near the ceiling, rose petals cover the floor and king size bed, candles flicker on every surface. it smells like roses and something intoxicating—something that smells like chris.

"you did all this?" you chirp, your mouth falling open in disbelief, voice soft.

"hell yeah," chris grins, looking too fucking proud of himself. "had to flex a lil’ for you."

you shake your head, heart full. "you’re ridiculous."

"yeah, whatever," he scoffs with a chuckle, guiding you to the bed where a parade of designer shopping bags wait.

your jaw drops. "you did not."

"oh, i absolutely did." he lounges back, arms stretched wide like a king on his throne. "go on, open 'em."

you move through the bags—prada, dior, chanel, each one more jaw-dropping than the last. your chest tightens with emotion, but before you can even catch your breath, chris pulls out a sleek red cartier box.

"wait, wait," chris suddenly says, holding it up. "this the big one. close your pretty eyes."

you do as he says, heart racing. when you open them, he’s sliding a gold love bracelet onto your wrist. it gleams in the candlelight, sleek and perfect.

"know what makes this special?" he asks, voice low, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

"what?"

"only opens wit' this key," he says, holding up a tiny gold key between his fingers. "'n guess who’s got the only one?" he adds with a smirk.

your jaw drops for what feels like the third time tonight. "you’re fucking with me, chris."

chris grins wickedly. "nah, i’m serious as fuck."

"are you fucking crazy?" you laugh, shaking your head.

"maybe," he shrugs without missing a beat, voice raspy and cocky through a smirk.

your heart races, warmth spreading through your chest. without thinking, you straddle his lap, fingers threading through his curls.

"you spoil me too much," you whisper against his ear.

"nah, this jus' a warm-up," he murmurs, hands firm on your waist. "i ain’t ever done showin’ you how much you worth."

the air between you is thick, humming with tension. his voice hangs in the space, rough and deliberate, making your pulse race.

you feel the weight of his hands on your waist, steady but commanding, fingertips pressing just hard enough to make your skin tingle through the silk of your dress.

you shift slightly, leaning in until your lips hover right over his ear. "you talk too much," you whisper, voice low and teasing.

his laugh is dark, laced with something primal. "oh, it’s like that?"

"mhmm," you hum, dragging your fingers down the line of his jaw, soft but deliberate.

chris doesn’t miss for a second. in one smooth motion, he flips the dynamic without trying, his grip firming as he pulls you flush against him. your breath catches, but the surprise only fuels the rush under your skin.

"i ain't even started talkin’ yet," he mutters, voice thick with promise, lips grazing the corner of your mouth—just barely.

you tilt your head, daring him with a cheeky smirk. "then stop teasing."

his grin is lethal, all confidence and heat. "aight."

he crashes into you, mouth claiming yours in a kiss that’s hot, messy, and unrelenting—yet full of love and adoration. your hands tangle in the back of his neck, nails grazing skin as he deepens the kiss, tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that makes your whole body feel hot.

"damn, kid," chris breathes against your lips, voice wrecked but amused. "you wild tonight."

you smirk, catching your breath. "keep up."

his laugh rumbles low in his chest as he grips your thigh, fingers brushing bare skin under your dress. "oh, i gotchu, baby. believe that."

the kiss resumes, growing more and more hungry, but it's somehow still full of pure love. his fingers brush down the straps of your expensive dress, laughing cockily when he catches a glimpse of the red lace on your body as the dress sinks past your waist.

he pulls away, just to take a look at you in the red bra, little hearts embroidered into the mesh material. his eyes then flit up to your face, running his tongue over his bottom lip through a sinister smirk, "this my present?"

"you like it?" you giggle, a hint of blush heating on your cheeks, fingers idly toying with the silver chain around his neck.

chris proves to you how much he likes it when the lacy red g-string is pulled to the side, plowing passionately into your puffy cunt with loud wet squelches, rose petals shifting on the bed as he moves.

"so pretty," he grunts breathily, his fingers digging into your thighs as he holds them in a gentle yet firm grip against your chest, watching your walls swallow his cock greedily.

you whine softly, watching his pretty face above you through lidded eyes, messy curls bouncing in front of his blue irises. "c-chris...feels so...g-good..." you gasp softly, eyes rolling back as you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth.

chris hums cockily, smiling softly down at you as he leans down to peck your cheek, "yeah?" he mutters against your skin, pace not slowing for a second.

"really...good..." you whisper shakily, panting through soft moans, gasping when one of chris' hands moves to toy with your tit, brushing his finger over your hardened nipple over your thin bra.

"mhm...i know," he coos softly, huffing out a soft chuckle as his head dips down to pepper soft and wet kisses along your neck, your fingers threading through his soft hair. "jus' relax f'me, baby, i gotchu."

he grunts softly against your skin while you whimper, feeling his tip hit that spot deep within that makes your vision blurry. "wanna make you feel so fuckin' good...s'valentine's day...need my girl to be satisfied..."

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101 , @malsmind

@chrissturnsfav ™

[wendichester]

⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃⋆ 'til death do us part,

summary. you catch a pattern at a couple's retreat and have to go understand. cue in sam's new (fake) wife!

pairing. sam winchester x reader ; fake couple

wordcount. 694

"You ready?"

Sam’s voice is smooth, deep, warm like honey. You nearly roll your eyes, but instead, you lace your fingers with his and plaster on your best adoring-wife smile.

"Of course, darling," you purr, giving his hand a little squeeze for effect.

The ruse is simple enough: a small-town cult disguised as a religious retreat, luring in young married couples for “spiritual renewal.” The catch? None of them ever leave.

So here you are, hand-in-hand with Sam Winchester, wearing a simple gold band on your finger that’s heavier than it should be.

The woman at the check-in table beams at you both, her gaze flicking to your joined hands. "Such a beautiful couple," she says. "How long have you been married?"

Sam barely hesitates. "Three years," he says easily. "Met in college. Love at first sight."

You feel your cheeks warm. You hadn’t rehearsed that part.

The woman sighs dreamily. "How wonderful. Well, we’ll get you both settled in. We encourage closeness, so no separate rooms here. Just you, your spouse, and the universe binding your souls together."

Oh, fantastic.

Sam keeps up the act flawlessly, rubbing slow circles against the back of your hand with his thumb as you follow her down a candlelit hall. Your fake honeymoon suite is small but cozy, with soft lighting and a single bed in the center.

The door shuts behind you, leaving you alone with Sam and the inescapable tension crackling in the air.

"Three years, huh?" you tease, slipping off your shoes.

He shrugs, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "Seemed believable."

"You got a whole love story planned out?"

Sam smirks. "I could come up with one if you want."

You roll your eyes and flop onto the bed, feeling the mattress dip slightly under your weight. "Nah. I think I like this arranged marriage thing we’ve got going on."

Sam chuckles, running a hand through his hair. He’s too comfortable, too good at this. You should be focusing on the case, not on how right his last name looks on your fake I.D.

You clear your throat. "So, what’s the plan?"

"Figure out what they’re really doing here, take down the bad guys, save the day," Sam says. "Same as always."

"With a side of marital bliss," you add dryly.

Sam tilts his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like calling me your husband."

You smirk. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like it."

He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches you, something unreadable behind those sharp hazel eyes.

For a second, the whole act slips into something dangerously real.

"Maybe I do," he finally says, voice quieter now.

Your stomach flips.

You should say something snarky, make a joke, something, but your mouth is suddenly dry, and Sam is still looking at you like that.

Like maybe pretending doesn’t feel so much like such a burden.

The case should be your first priority. The weird chanting you heard earlier, the way the other couples here seem too happy, the fact that you might be in real danger if you don’t figure out what’s going on.

But all you can focus on is the way Sam’s fingers brush against yours when he leans down, resting his weight on his hands beside you.

"Maybe we should get some sleep," he murmurs, his voice softer now, heavier.

You nod, pulse thrumming in your throat.

You don’t move. Neither does he.

The space between you crackles with something unsaid, something waiting.

But Sam pulls back first, shaking his head like he’s clearing a thought from his mind. "Big day tomorrow."

"Right," you say quickly, swinging your legs onto the bed and yanking the covers up.

A beat of silence.

Then Sam reaches over and turns off the light.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, hyper-aware of every breath he takes beside you. Of the warmth of his body inches away.

Of the fact that you’re still wearing his last name.

And that maybe he was right and you like calling him your husband. That you wouldn’t mind keeping his last name.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @mrs-pondwater19 ⋆ @myceliumsunshine ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7

[poorrichardjr]

Ok, I can agree with both people here to some degree, though I think a few things should be brought up.

First, Gore actually won the popular vote in Florida. The Supreme Court stopped the recount that proved that Gore actually won, by a very slim margin. Second, instead of blaming Nader, as most mainstream democrats do, why don't they blame Jeb Bush for purging hundreds of thousands of people from the rolls who were alive and able to vote simply because their names corresponded to names of criminals in other states. This is still done btw every single election in republican run states.

Second, I don't blame all of the voters in the last election, republican or democrat. I don't blame the people who have no time to do the research because they work 60+ hours a week, have families to take care of and spend time with, or those who gladly lapped up the propaganda about Biden and Trump.

There is a caveat to that thought though. Being an informed voter is the responsibility of the people voting. Are you as a voter doing anything at all to learn about the candidates? Are you only getting your information from Fox and the like or RT or Sputnik or whatever? If so, you are slurping up that good ole propaganda and learning virtually nothing. Don't get me wrong, a lot of media outlets have some form of propaganda or slant to their news, but in aggregate, it isn't hard to determine some basic facts about a candidate even with all the partisan BS.

Believe it or not but Trump was not a normal republican president last time. He was crass, cruel, and tried numerous times to do things that his staffers said and warned him were illegal. He was impeached twice for doing things that no other president had done, especially inspiring the coup on January 6th. He also nearly led us into war with North Korea and Iran. We were on the brink of war with North Korea, and suddenly things changed when Russia spoke with both Trump and Un. What did they say that changed the heat? They probably told Trump that Kim wasn't really that bad and that he should be the bigger man and do some outreach, and they told Kim that all you had to do to get anything from Trump was flatter him, because he is an absolute moron.

Biden wasn't a great president, but honestly he really only did two terrible things. He appointed Merrick Garland to oversee the DOJ, and though he was a great prosecutor, he moved far too slowly and initially only focused on the foot soldiers of the insurrection. He never even went after all the congress people who were also deeply involved. Other than that, Biden did what he has always done his entire career and that is to support Israel. He would not use his presidential influence to curb what was happening in Israel, and that turned a lot of good people away from him.

Kamala wasn't really in the running long enough to get a good footing, and she didn't try to differentiate herself from Biden that much, simply because much of what Biden was doing worked. Jobs were up, the economy got much better than the rest of the world, and actual wages were going up for the first time in nearly thirty years.

In the end if you listened to Trump for a single hour and Kamala for a single hour their demeanor, ideas, and temperament should have been enough to get people to do the right thing, but it wasn't. The blatant racism and cruelty espoused by Trump wasn't enough. The knowledge that Trump would support anything Israel wanted in Gaza wasn't enough. The constant lying and whining about 2020 wasn't enough. In the end, if you couldn't guess that some of what is happening now and what could be happening soon was on the table, then you were a fucking idiot or so deeply into a partisan whole that you really didn't care.

Americans failed in their responsibility, and now they will be paying the price for their inability to take this seriously.

Just to be a clear, I am not a democrat, and yet I have voted for them in the last three elections because only a god damn moron couldn't see what Trump is. I hated Hilary because she was untrustworthy, despite my same opinion that she was probably the most qualified candidate for that position in decades. I hated Biden because he really is part of the reason we have many of the problems we have today, and he has been out of touch with a lot of America for years. I had no problems with Kamala, except that she was embracing the right-wingers who gave us Iraq and the quagmire that was Afghanistan and didn't do enough to try and get democrats to vote for her. You can criticize Trump all day, but republicans don't care and are going to vote for him anyway. She needed to rebuild the coalition that was disintegrating because of Gaza and the DOJ's inaction.

[hueseok]

can’t stop thinking about husband!yoongi who also happens to be a ceo, the very reason why he has the ability to spoil you rotten whenever he wants to.

“yoongi, come on!” you call out to your husband, seeing him still sitting on a chair while you’ve been here in the pool for a considerably long time now, expecting that he was going to join you shortly after like he said earlier.

however, it’s been roughly ten minutes now and he’s stuck there on his patio chair, scrolling through his phone and enjoying the bottle of wine he opened before you dipped yourself in the water.

“i change my mind,” he says, a bit sheepish. “the water looks cold, babe. i don’t think i want to.”

you roll your eyes, swimming closer to him. “then why did you even book us a suite with a private pool?”

“because i know you’d love it.” he smiles. “and also because i was expecting we’d swim in the daytime.”

“what’s the fun in that?”

“uh, perhaps, feeling fresh and cool and—”

“babe,” you cut him off, leaning now on the edge of the pool, “just join me.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you laugh as you see him hesitantly standing up and taking his shirt off, soon going to the steps of the pool where it leads him deeper and where you’re already waiting for him as well.

yoongi childishly holds out his hand to you, which you take with a laugh, helping him to fully sink himself in the water.

“fuck, it’s cold,” he says with a grimace and a shiver, something that makes you grin, immediately putting your arms on his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist once he goes closer.

“you’re so dramatic.”

“it is, though. look, i have goosebumps.” he raises his arm and you glance at it, snorting.

“okay, point proven, big baby.”

yoongi looks at you and breaks off into a big smile, chuckling and encircling his arms on your waist, giving your lips a quick kiss.

“enjoying this trip so far?”

“yup.” you nod.

“good.”

the both of you kiss again, this time much longer now, with yoongi angling his face to the side so he can do it better, one hand resting on your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing against it.

you can feel your heartbeat escalating at just the feel of him this near, your skin touching and bringing a little warmth in the cold water. it makes yoongi think that he should have just done this much earlier rather than prolonging it from happening because of his laziness at the thought of taking a shower after this.

“thanks for bringing me here,” you murmur against his mouth, your own curving up in a smile. “i never thought we’d actually go overseas for our anniversary.”

“it’s not like we haven’t done it before.” his hold on you tightens as you place little kisses on his jaw down to his neck, eventually settling on leaning your head on his shoulder. “besides, i think i need to make up for the fact i forgot last year’s anniversary.”

you laugh at the memory. “it’s okay. you already told me that you forgot it because our wedding date and the day we started dating confused you. plus, you took me to that restaurant i love.”

“still though… the first year is supposed to be memorable.”

“no, it isn’t. the first year’s supposed to be the hardest.” you pull back to smile at him. “so, you get a pass.”

“thank god,” he jokes and chuckles, you doing the same.

“but seriously, yoon,” you play with the hair on the back of his head, gazing at his eyes, “thank you. you always go ahead of yourself just to do things for me—to make me happy, you know?”

“why are you thanking me? it’s what i’m supposed to do.”

“no. you could have been a shitty boyfriend, and then a shitty husband but... you’re just the best. you’ve given me everything i could possibly want and been the man i needed. i’m so lucky to have you.”

yoongi gazes at you in absolute awe, that amazing feeling again spreading in his chest and making him feel all giddy and happy.

he wasn’t lying when he said that thanking him wasn’t needed, but the acknowledgement and the appreciation you’re showing surely makes him pleased, heart getting bigger because of it.

“you’re drunk, aren’t you?” he nevertheless asks though, teasing and taking the opportunity of you being lovey-dovey, that you hit his bare chest without hesitation.

“i’m serious,” you whine.

“i know, baby, which makes me glad. but it’s only what you deserve, okay? the reason why i’m doing this, i mean. you’ve been there for me too—when i was in the worst place, when the company almost went bankrupt… you were the one who picked me up to my feet, loved me unconditionally. so… let’s be real. i’m the real lucky one here.”

you smirk, fondly staring at every feature he has on his face, smiling wide. “are we just going to start saying our vows again?”

he snorts. “says the woman who started being sappy.”

“do you want me to apologize for letting my husband know i love him?”

“no,” he shakes his head, not helping himself as he leans closer to you so that he can place his lips over yours again, “i love it when you say that you love me.”

“and i really do, you know. i’ll never get tired saying how much i love you so much,” you agree almost immediately, melting into the kiss again.

he hums contently, caressing your sides. “i love you too, baby. you’re the reason why i thank the heavens for being alive every single day.”

under the stars and the moon that night, until the moment the two of you decide to take that intimate moment right there inside, it feels like a second honeymoon with yoongi.

you know he’s a busy man, a workaholic—and yet the fact that he can spare this much time for you to make you feel loved on the very same day you got married, makes you think all over again how fortunate you are to be with someone like him who works hard for you both but never forgets to cherish you.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 29: Ghosts of the Past

Rating: Teen Audiences

Warnings: Protective!Paige, Azzi, Ice, Mentions of Y/N’s Ex, Panic Attacks

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x !Photographer Fem Reader

Fandom: Women’s Basketball

Summary: Why now...

Welcome to the chapter 29 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

Shopping trips with the team were always filled with laughter, banter, and an unrelenting amount of teasing. It was one of those things that felt like a welcome distraction from everything else. Today was no different. Paige, Azzi, Ice, and I were in our usual group, having fun as we made our way through the aisles. The others had split off to check out a sneaker store just a few blocks down, leaving the four of us to do a little damage in a nearby boutique.

"Are you seriously trying to convince me that green looks good on everyone?" Azzi asked, holding up a neon green hoodie, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.

I snorted, glancing over at Paige, who was smirking at me. "I’m just saying," Paige teased. "Some of us can pull it off better than others."

"You mean like you?" Ice chimed in, causing Paige to give a dramatic shrug.

"Obviously," Paige responded, looking pleased with herself.

Azzi rolled her eyes. "Let’s get this over with before Paige starts modeling for us."

The lighthearted atmosphere filled the space, and for a moment, I felt the weight of the past few weeks lift. Between school, practice, and my constant juggling act, I hadn’t realized how much I needed this—just the simple joy of being with people I cared about.

But then, as I turned a corner of the store, the world seemed to freeze. My heart stuttered in my chest.

Standing just a few feet away, browsing through a rack of jackets, was someone I thought I’d never have to see again. My ex.

I froze, the blood draining from my face. The warmth that had settled in me moments ago disappeared in an instant, replaced by a cold, creeping fear that settled deep in my bones.

Paige’s voice broke through my panic. "Y/N?" she asked softly, stepping closer. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, my eyes locked on the figure in front of me. I could feel my hands begin to shake as memories from that toxic relationship flooded my mind. The manipulation, the gaslighting, the verbal jabs—everything that once felt suffocating was suddenly there, fresh and painful.

"Why are you back here?" I muttered under my breath, my voice unsteady. I could barely even hear it over the roar of my heartbeat.

Azzi, noticing my sudden shift in energy, stepped up to my other side. "Who’s this?" she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.

Before I could answer, the guy turned, his eyes locking with mine. "Y/N? Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here!" He said, his tone too casual, too comfortable for someone who had hurt me so badly.

Azzi's arms crossed as she shot a glare at him. "Who’s this?" she repeated, her voice laced with protectiveness.

"I’m her ex," the guy replied, his eyes flicking between Azzi and Paige. He was trying to figure out the situation. "We dated her freshman year."

I felt my knees go weak as the walls I had built so carefully around my past began to crumble. Paige immediately noticed the change in me, her hand instinctively finding mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You okay?" she whispered, her voice quiet but firm.

I couldn’t answer. My breath was coming in short bursts, my chest tight with anxiety. My ex’s presence alone was enough to send me spiraling.

Azzi’s voice was sharp and commanding as she addressed him. "Maybe you should leave."

"What? I’m not doing anything wrong," he protested, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"You’re making her uncomfortable," Paige said, her voice steely and authoritative.

His gaze flicked to me, and I could see the confusion on his face. "I just wanted to say hi."

"Hi, and now bye," Ice’s voice rang out from behind us, her words leaving no room for argument.

Azzi and Ice stood like a wall between me and my ex, their eyes fixed on him with a glare that would make anyone back off. In a matter of seconds, they had him out of the store, leaving me surrounded by the people who would always have my back.

I was still trembling, my breath uneven as I tried to regain control of my racing heart. Paige stepped closer, her hands cupping my face, her touch gentle yet firm. "Hey, hey," she whispered softly. "Look at me."

I couldn’t help it—tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. Not here, not now, but everything came flooding back. "I... I didn’t want to see him again, Paige," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Why now? Why here?"

Paige’s hands rubbed comforting circles on my arms as she leaned her forehead against mine. "You’re safe now, Y/N. He can’t hurt you anymore." Her words were calm, soothing, like a balm on the wounds I didn’t even realize were still raw.

"I’m sorry," I whispered, the tears breaking free.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Paige said gently, brushing away the tear that had slipped down my cheek. "You’ve been through a lot, and you don’t owe him or anyone anything."

The rest of the team returned, the air filled with quiet tension. Ice, Azzi, and KK had made sure my ex was gone, but the damage lingered in the pit of my stomach. KK was the first to speak up. "What happened?" Her voice was laced with concern.

"Her ex showed up," Ice muttered, her tone sharp. "Total creep."

Paige wrapped her arm around me, pulling me close. "We’re going back to my dorm," she said firmly, her protective instincts flaring. "We’ll figure this out there."

At the dorm, things felt a little calmer, though my nerves were still shot. I sat curled up on Paige’s bed, a blanket draped around my shoulders, sipping on a cup of tea she had made for me. I didn’t want to talk about it—not yet. The memories were still too fresh, too painful.

Paige sat beside me, her presence calming, her fingers gently lacing through mine. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly, her voice quiet, giving me the space I needed.

I shook my head. "Not right now. But…thank you. For everything."

"You don’t have to thank me," Paige murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I’ll always protect you."

I leaned into her, letting her warmth and comfort settle me. "I know," I whispered. "I know."

Later that night, after I had finally managed to sleep, the nightmares came.

I woke up, my body drenched in sweat, my heart pounding as though I was back in that dark, toxic relationship. I gasped for air, feeling trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t escape. The panic rose in my chest, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

I tried to calm myself down, but the images were still there, haunting me—his face, the way he used to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough, that I was nothing.

But then, suddenly, a pair of warm hands cupped my face. Paige was there, her voice soft and steady as she whispered, "Hey, look at me. You’re safe."

I turned into her, the tears falling freely now. "I can’t breathe, Paige. I can’t—"

"Shh," Paige soothed, her hands running down my back as she gently rocked me. "Just breathe with me, okay? Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth."

I followed her lead, focusing on her voice, her presence, the way she always seemed to ground me when everything else fell apart.

"I’ve got you," she whispered. "You’re safe. You’re here with me, and no one can hurt you. Not anymore."

Slowly, I felt my breathing steady, the panic that had gripped me loosening its hold.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice still shaky. "I’m sorry for waking you."

Paige smiled softly, her thumb brushing across my cheek. "Don’t apologize, baby. I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. Always."

I snuggled closer to her, my heart finally beginning to settle. "I’m lucky to have you," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips as I drifted back into a peaceful sleep, surrounded by the warmth of the girl who would always protect me.

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 , @starlighttsv , @authentic-girl03 , @elalfywhore , @elalfywhore .... (more to be added)

[anomaliex]

Collection of headcanons not elaborate enough for own word vomit post:

- I don't think Kristen can swim. She has the vibes of someone who never learned as a kid and now it's too late to bring up without being embarrassed. (Also I thought about what would happen if she fell in water — mechanically she's wearing heavy armor, would Brennan just let her swim since she's in universe only in a tracksuit or would she sink without a sufficient strength check? Idk, but that's how I got to the no swimming conclusion.)

- insanely weird hc to have but i think Fabian shaves his arm hair. Also like legs and arm pits i guess but the way more unusual and therefore notable thing is arms. This guy kills any body and facial hair on sight. Like no one has ever seen him with as much as stubble outside of Cathilda or the Bad Kids when they were sleeping over. Why? Idk he just prefers that, no deeper reason. I do think elves generally have less body hair but here his human genes come through so he has to shave. Or get it lasered away I guess. You can do that right?? He's rich. Maybe he'd do it.

- also Fabian's depth perception is dog shit. Using his crossbow is less impressive because Fandrangor is simply a better weapon and his flourishes and manoeuvres rely on melee combat, I know, but to me it's also just that he's better at hitting things real close to him.

- Riz is the kinda guy to have chronic migraines and think it's fine. "Everyone has headaches sometimes and I do sleep a lot less than I should ahaha" (the amount of coffee he drinks is barely saving him from the horrors.)

- Adaine also gets a lot of migraines in what I think are more. Passive non specific visions? Like a gut feeling that's always correct and also makes her body hate her. The proper visions are comparable to absence seizures I think? Like I don't wanna say it's that because it's magic but the process is kind of the same in the sense that she's out for like ten to thirty seconds and it can really suck

- I also think Adaine has synaesthesia! I can't really put this into words well so I'm not even gonna try, but she perceives certain sounds and/or colours at times where there shouldn't be sounds and/or colours. I think those associations also to an extend help in drawing connections between less specific visions and real life.

- we know Gorgug has a drumset in his room I think it's electronic. But like not in a normal way like we have them irl it's some insane artificer shit that would justify so much more noise complaints than a regular one and also could probably have its own pyrotechnics idfk. It's fully a safety hazard but it doesn't even rank on the top 10 of worst things to have in your house that is a TREE that the Thistlesprings casually own.

- I think either Fig or Kristen would be the shortest medium creature type Bad Kid. Like obviously Riz is four feet tall max but he's in a whole different category lmao

- Fig sometimes puts little braids in Jawbone's fur and he happily lets her. He only properly adopted Adaine and Fig has more than enough dads, but he does still act as sort of a paternal figure to her (and every other kid ((which in this case includes Ragh but maybe not Aelwyn)) in mordred manor because he's just a caring guy and it's hard not to grow attached) so that's their pseudo daddy-daughter bonding

- Fabian doesn't like, hate Gilear as much as he used to? Like he still has his moments but overall he thinks he's a good guy and absolutely has the "well I can shit on him but I'm gonna kill this other guy who did. How dare you make fun of my Mama's beloved??" mindset. But uhm he tries to make Gilear work out with him so he can "stop being death fodder". Gilear is a commoner and everyone else in Seacaster Manor absolutely is not and like he likes it and he loves these people but he does kind of live in hell. His wife? Could kill him. His step son? Could kill him. The maid? Could kill him. The dog slash motor cycle?? Could kill him. One hit. Also the entire current Seacaster household are dexterity based fighters they're all so graceful and skilled he's fully just a guy that spills every drink ever on himself

- I think the Hangman loves Cathilda because she gives good chin scritchies (hound form obviously lol) Generally he tends to mirror Fabian's attitude towards people anyway so he's always liked her, but once he started being a hound more she started petting him and giving him treats and he is smitten

- Gorgug (and sometimes Ragh or Ayda) play extreme fetch with the Hangman. Like I need to stress that he's not just a big dog he's large enough to be a mount, which means he'd have to be the size of a horse. Maybe a small horse sure but that's still a horse-sized dog. I think his mini looks fairly big but in my heart he's bigger. So yeah fetch with him (which they mainly do because they want him to feel comfortable in both forms because he's so good) is really big sticks. Like not logs or anything but sticks the average person can't huck all that far. Fabian casts enhance ability on himself so he can also do it, lol. The wonders of multiclassing into bard.

- I think the only Bad Kids who never use makeup are Riz and Kristen. Gorgug doesn't do it every day and not that much but he uses eyeliner sometimes. Fig's makeup is the most noticeable and usually very fun.

- Gorgug has kissed Ragh at least twice. So at least one time after the prom thing. I don't mean this in a ship way I mean this in I look at Gorgug and then I look at Ragh and I go yeah these guys have shared at least one tender bro kiss. I mean I think Gorgug is the kinda guy that would kiss all of his friends if they wanted to because it's not that big of a deal to him and he loves them but not everyone is comfortable w/ that lol. He and Kristen kiss each other on the cheek though, I think (this does not mean he wants to see her naked in public please put your clothes back on Kristen??)

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Hi I LOVE how you write!!!!

Could you do Fluff In ho x reader where reader lives with her parents but they have a bad relationship where they don't treat her right and are always making coments about her and her body and one day after a right reader calla In ho crying saying she can't take it anymore and begs In ho to take her away and he is at reader's front door in less than 10 minuts and decides that reader is saying with him and make reader feel better and forgets about all the thing that they said about her. thanks <3

Somewhere In the Middle

Player 001 x reader [FLUFF] 🎀

Masterlist <- comment here to be added to the Taglist

You’d met In Ho a while back at a birthday party, some colleague of your dads. He stood by you at first, sipping slowly on his champagne while you did the same.

“Some party, huh?” He whispered to you. You nodded, smiling back. “Hello, I’m Hwang In Ho, I don’t believe I’ve seen you at the station before, are you new?” You laughed,

“No, my dad is (l/n) (f/n)” you pointed to your now drunken father who was dancing with your mom. His smile shining brightly, a good mask he was wearing.

“Oh! He never mentioned a daughter as beautiful as you” he said with a shocked expression. You looked down, you didn’t feel beautiful.

“Thank you”

That was then. Now, you almost 19 and still in high school, your late birthday holding you back. You walked inside and set your shoes quietly on the rack.

“Well, look who it is” your mother sighed, looking at your soaked body and clothes. “You missed dinner”

“You didn’t wait?” You asked hurt. You shouldn’t be surprised.

“No, of course not. You’re always late. And you’re soaking my floor. Go to your bedroom. Get those clothes off before you ruin the rest of the house” your mother spat harshly. You weren’t always late, it was raining. The buses were full, the trains were full. You had walked 10 miles to get home. In the pouring rain.

“While you’re at it, can you make sure your room is picked up? It’s an eyesore” you dad added from the table.

“My door is never open” you answer.

“Don’t talk back.” Your father whipped his head to look at you. “Such a wretched girl” your heard him mutter as you shuffled past. Your clothes stuck to your skin.

You returned a moment later. Looking through the fridge and microwave for food. Your mother eyes you carefully.

“Dinner is gone. We finished it” she said pointedly. You dropped your shoulders. Looking at her sorrowfully.

“You didn’t save me any?” You nearly cry. This was the third day in a row that you had barely eaten.

“No, we didn’t. You weren’t here on time, dinner is over. You know the rules, late for dinner nothing for the rest of the day” she answered.

“B-b-but, I haven’t eaten in three days, ma” you tell her. She shrugged.

“You should eat more” your father spoke. “You’re too thin, not attractive.”

“No, she’s too fat. Not attractive.” Your mother countered. She pulled up your shirt, pointing to your visible ribs and pronounced pelvis. “I suppose you’re right.

“How am I supposed to eat more when you don’t save food for dinner or wait for me?” You ask. Your feelings hurt as you snatched your shirt down.

“You know the rules (y/n)” your dad sighed looking back at his newspaper. “Figure it out”

“Dad! Are you being serious?” You question. “You guys are terrible parents” you utter quietly.

“What did you say?” Your father said as your mother gasped.

“I said you guys are terrible parents” you say with determination and walk away, leaving them before you broke down in tears. You threw yourself onto your bed, snatching your phone quickly. Failing the only number you knew.

“Hello?” In Hos voice came through the phone.

“In Ho…” gasped through your tears. “I need you to come get me. They’re terrible, I haven’t eaten in days, I’m starving” you began ranting through your tears.

“I’m on my way” was all he said. You awaited his arrival, only grabbing your backpack phone and charger. A text came in five minutes after the phone call ‘I’m here’ is all it said. You left your room, walking past your parents, ignoring calls of your name.

His car sat idol in the rain as he stood by your door. You ran and jumped into his arms, sobbing hard in his shoulder. He rubbed your hair gently, coaxing you with soothing words.

Timeskip:

You lay curled up into him. Players of food surrounding you, cans of coke scattered on the bedside table. Sighing heavily as you watched Fast and Furious.

“When do I go home?” You ask him with tear filled eyes.

“You’re not going back there” he said, his eyes burning yours with an intensity that you felt in your soul. “You will never go back there. They’re terrible don’t treat you right, you’re underfed, your clothes are raggedy, you’re too young and beautiful” he gently kissed the top of your head.

“I’m not beautiful” you mumble.

“Yes you are. You have always been beautiful. Ever since I first met you, you’ve always been beautiful. You are attractive, you are what I need in my life.” He said with finality. His words echoed in your heart. Reverberating through your body. I am beautiful. You repeated to yourself.

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[thepenultimateword]

Types of Confessions : Public Confession

CW: Murder

“I love you!”

For a moment, the entire street seemed to go quiet. Cameras whirred from behind blockades. Nervous feet scraped the asphalt as police shifted, attention briefly moving from Supervillain to the battered hero who had just thrust their way into the line of fire.

Supervillain could only stare, the edge of their knife pressed to the Director’s throat. Just a smidge more pressure, and he’d bleed like the pig he was.

But there was Hero, breathing hard, hair sweaty and ragged in their face, costume in tatters. Supervillain had sent several of the syndicate to hold onto them until this business was over, but apparently they didn’t compare to a legal power user when they really wanted something.

“Don’t do it,” Hero said, stumbling forward another step. They were bleeding through one leg of their leggings. “You do it, and every officer here shoots you down. Or they catch you and dissect your brain until they figure out what went wrong. Why you can still hurt people.”

Supervillain raised their brow. “And if I do stop? What? Mr. Director here forgets I ever threatened him?”

Hero took another step. “I made a deal. I-if you stop. We can leave. Together. They won’t stop you. You don’t have to be trapped in this city anymore. You don’t have hide.”

Supervillain could feel the director’s shoulders relax a little. He was confident that Supervillain would take this out. Exchange all his bitterness for a happy ending.

“This is my magnum opus,” Supervillain said. What I’ve built my career on. You want me to give it up?”

“I love you!”

“Why should that matter?”

Hero choked.

The director stiffened.

“This isn’t about me. This is about you. This is about us. And everyone this city exploits. And crushes. And pushes under the rug. This place is supposed to be some sort of powered utopia but it’s a scheme. And I like it better when I’m the one behind the curtain.”

“Please. Please I don’t want to lose you.”

Supervillain’s heart pounded. Hero’s words only now just soaking in. They didn’t make a difference. But they felt warm in their chest. Hopeful. Grateful. Regretful.

They might never get the chance to actually kiss them. To hold them. To go on a date with them. To tell—

They could do that part. They’d intended to never say it, but well…

“I love you too.”

“Supervillain…” Hero sounded pleading. They knew it wasn’t the sort of ‘I love you’ that expected longevity.

“We could always do both.”

“Supervillain, no wait— I don’t even know if I— This isn’t how—”

They gazed directly into Hero’s eyes. “Save me, my hero.”

Then they slit the director’s throat.

[dulcescorderitas]

05

parings: married!deanwinchester x married!reader (+ sam)

synopsis: cooking

the kitchen was already a disaster. flour dusted the countertops like a crime scene outline, and a bottle of olive oil had tipped over, creating a slick, shimmering puddle on the wooden surface. the smell of garlic and onions filled the air, mingling with the sharp tang of burnt something—probably whatever dean had been in charge of.

"i told you, babe, this is why takeout exists," dean grumbled, flicking a piece of raw chicken at you. it hit your arm with a cold, wet slap.

"jesus, dean!" you yelped, shoving him in the chest. he barely budged, just grinning like an idiot, dimples and all.

"you two are impossible," sam muttered, rolling his eyes as he expertly diced an onion. his knife skills were alarmingly precise, which only made dean more suspicious.

"yeah, okay, gordon ramsey, we get it, you know how to cut shit. but can you do this?" dean attempted to twirl a knife between his fingers, only for it to slip and clatter onto the floor. you sighed. sam sighed louder.

"real smooth," you muttered, picking up the knife before dean could impale himself. "if we actually wanna eat tonight, maybe we should focus."

"focus is for nerds," dean declared, leaning over to steal a sip from your beer. you smacked his hand away.

"you have your own, dumbass."

"yeah, but yours always tastes better. kinda like how you always steal my fries."

sam ignored the both of you, setting the chopped onions into a sizzling pan. the butter hissed, and for a moment, it actually smelled promising. that moment passed quickly.

dean, having been left in charge of seasoning the chicken, had apparently gone feral with the spice rack. the second the pieces hit the heat, an acrid, eye-watering cloud of burnt paprika and chili powder filled the room.

"oh, hell no," you coughed, waving a hand in front of your face. "dean, what did you put in there?"

"i dunno, some of that red shit," he answered, barely concerned, peering into the pan as if offended that his creation wasn’t behaving properly. "it looked right."

"you just threw in spices like you were summoning a demon, didn’t you?" sam accused.

"hey, if i was summoning anything, it’d be a pizza delivery guy, ‘cause this ain’t workin’." dean grabbed the pan handle, but immediately hissed and dropped it back onto the stove. "son of a—who the hell made this pan lava-proof?"

"it's called heat, dumbass," you snorted, but the joke was cut short when the smoke alarm started blaring.

"aw, come on!" dean groaned, grabbing a towel to fan the smoke away. "we got this under control!"

"do we?" sam asked dryly, as you rushed to open a window. the sound was piercing, and it was only a matter of time before someone (probably a very annoyed neighbor) complained.

"alright, screw this," you said, tossing the ruined pan into the sink with a dramatic clatter. "i'm calling it—pizza and beer."

"now we're talkin’," dean grinned, already reaching for his phone. "see, this is why i married you. you get me."

"yeah, yeah, just order before i change my mind and make you eat the chicken."

sam just shook his head, stepping around the mess as if it personally offended him. "i swear, cooking with you two is like watching a disaster movie in slow motion."

"yeah, but we make it look good, right?" dean winked at you, still smug despite the failure.

"you know what else looks good?" dean leaned in, voice dropping into a husky murmur. "you, bent over this counter, covered in flour, with me showing you how to properly handle raw meat."

"oh my god," sam groaned, throwing down the spatula. "can we go ten minutes without you turning everything into a porno?"

"hey, i'm just saying, cooking’s a very sensual activity. lotta kneading, lotta poundin—"

"i will stab you," you deadpanned, brandishing a fork. "not in the fun way."

sam rubbed his temples like he was reconsidering every life choice that led him here. "i don't get paid enough for this."

"you don't get paid at all," dean shot back. "you just hang around, all tall and judgy, pretending you don’t enjoy our company."

"it's not pretending if it's true," sam muttered.

"see, babe?" dean turned back to you, grinning. "this is why you gotta appreciate me more. i'm the fun brother."

"you're something, alright," you muttered, shaking your head.

finally, after much more unnecessary bickering, the pizza arrived. beers were popped open, and the three of you collapsed onto the couch, the kitchen a war zone of spices, flour, and regret.

"y'know," dean said around a mouthful of pizza, "we should do this again sometime."

"we absolutely should not," sam and you answered in perfect unison.

and that, of course, just made dean laugh harder.

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[courtesons]

Ethan seemed to falling a little quiet in this moment, not out of shyness or poor feelings - more so that he knew what Ricardo and Tony would be like and was going to enjoy the show. Simply setting down with his drink in the booth, leaning back and watching. Truth be told out of everyone he knew in and out of the scene, these two were perhaps the people he was closest too. In more ways then one.

"Oh I have no doubt, you look like you'd be adorably oversensitive at the best of times. Blushing, moaning - I'm sure it takes very little to set you off" Tony remarked with a devilish coy grin, before his eyes drifted to Ricardo, his smile only growing as he slid an arm around the younger man's waist, thumb brushing over his hip as he gave the man, his man a kiss to his neck. "What do you think darling, hm? You always do love to give nicknames, what should we call him?" Tony mused, as if plotting with him on what to do with Fabian.

"You raise a fair point, sweet thing. Tony Stark, lifelong philanthropist whose known Ethan since college. This here is Ricardo, my....well the list is a little long actually" Tony admitted with a fliratious smirk to the younger man in his grasp. "It probably be easier to say he's mine, a phrase I never get tired of saying" He hummed, the tone a mixture of pride, possesisveness, affection and want. "But he's more than welcome to describe our dynamic as he likes and he gets to choose what you call him..." He trailed off before looking back at Fabian with a wicked little gleam in his eyes.

"As for me, Tony seems a little too informal in a place like this for a first meeting. So sweet thing, you can call me Mister Stark, Sir or Master...whichever sounds better on your lips."

Fabian watched as Ethan caught up with an old friend. He was too busy looking at his outfit. The slutty leather cowboy outfit was far bolder than anything Fabian had thought of wearing, and he was sort of mesmerized by it. The guy looked really hot. So much so that Fabian was imagining what sex with him would be like. Ethan and this guy exchanged pleasantries with Fabian not paying attention to much. Every now and again eyes would flicker over to him.

Then Ethan gestured to him, and Fabian tore his eyes away from the adonis of a latin man who had come over, starting to scoot after them holding his drink. He felt Ethan's fingers curl into the chain on his neck and tug him after them, and let himself be dragged along.

Along the way, the exposed asscheeks of their visitor caught Fabian's attention, just out and about in this club. You could tell he worked out, and his muscular butt was framed with the tiny thong string running between his cheeks over the very obvious end of a butt plug. Fuck, that was hot too, just announcing that you were plugged to the whole club.

The man they eventually met, well, Fabian wasn't going to be mean but his guy was better, sorry adonis. He extended a hand to shake with the man, but was pulled into a kiss like this dude was in a french romance.

"Fabian," he answered with a bit of a chuckle at the theatrics of the greeting, pushing his hands into his pockets. "Although, almost any nickname would do it. It doesn't take much for me to blush. What'd you have in mind?" Like with Ethan, he was bold and challenging, pushing the buttons on this stranger, which prompted the next thought and the next question, "I feel disadvantaged. Everyone knows each other but me. What should I call you two?"