#do you see the vision? do you fucking see it?

[lilliryth]

See the problem is that, if Albert Wesker were real, as in the combination of canon and headcanon that lives in my heart, I would love him, dearly. If Albert Wesker were real in the sense of a man grown from our own world but with the same combination of privilege, trauma, and conventional good looks that Wesker has, he would be a complete bastard, just a violent and predatory monster. That’s one highly-anecdotal and specific example, but the same goes for nearly every multi-faceted character I can think of. I remember that one post that was making fun of people for still liking Tony Stark, when we know what billionaires who erect towers named after themselves are actually like.

There’s a certain cognitive dissonance that happens here, I think, but it doesn’t have to be. Really, we’re talking about two different people here. You have the character—the same character, superimposed in our world—and then, you have who the character would likely be if they were to occur naturally. It’s precisely why The Boys is such a compelling show, because it explores all of this through the cultural phenomenon of superheroes. We all love our complicated little Guys. We’d hate them if they were “real”.

[bi-writes]

Thinking about going into labor while your partner is on the way somewhere unimportant, who refuses to come home to help you. And instead of being alone and scared, you hang up and call up one of your childhood friends everyone thought you'd wind up with. Kyle shows up at your door, furious but does his best to hide it, and helps you through it all. Next day the father of your child has the audacity to show up like nothing is wrong to see Kyle holding your baby so you can take a well deserved nap.

he picks up on the third ring. you tremble, gripping the edge of the porcelain tub. when you finally hear his voice, just the sound of him soothes your beating heart, just a little.

"'ello, love."

"kyle?" you sniffle. his background quiets a bit. you hear a door close, and then he's a bit louder.

"hey, love. what's wrong? you sound upset."

"my water broke," you hiccup. "a-and i...i was in the bath...i-i..." you close your eyes. "i can't get out of the tub."

"jesus fucking christ." you whimper, but kyle just hums. "not you, baby. hey, you just relax, alright? you said you were in the bath. just relax, and i'll be there soon."

"kyle--"

"don't be scared," kyle chuckles, and you whine a little. "hey, you're gonna have a baby. you've been waiting for this, yeah? haven't you?"

"y-yeah..."

"aren't you excited? you always tell me how much you can't wait, right?"

"yeah..."

"don't be scared," kyle repeats. "you just relax. be happy. she's coming today!"

you smile, wiping your face a little, and when kyle hears your giggle, he sighs.

"good girl. you sit tight."

so you do. you lean against the side of the tub, and you rest in the warm water as you stare at your phone screen.

he won't answer the phone. he hasn't read your texts. he's not coming.

you hear the front door open and close, and then there's a gentle knock on the bathroom door. when kyle comes in, you try to cover up, moving your hands over your tits, embarrassed, but kyle just goes to look for a clean towel to help you out.

"it's okay, love, i won't look," kyle tells you. he smiles at you, cupping your face gently, and you look into his dark eyes. "you look so pretty. you're glowin', y'know that?" you smile through gentle tears, putting a hand over your belly, and you try to move, but it's no use. kyle drops the towel, kneeling, and you shake your head.

"i-i can't get out--" you gasp, and kyle rolls up his sleeves over his thick forearms, putting the towel over his shoulder before he reaches for you.

"it's alright. i'll get you out. i'll try not to look, okay?"

"i'm so embarrassed...i'm so sorry, kyle..." you sniffle.

"don't apologize, love. i got it. give me your hands, put 'em around me."

you lift up your wet arms, wrapping them around his neck. you press your chest against his, and he picks you up as you stand, helping you to your feet. as you cup your belly, he wraps the towel around you, covering you, and then he holds your hand as you step out of the tub.

"alright. now where's your bag, darling?"

kyle grabs your bag and supplies as you get dressed in your room. as you pull your socks on, kyle comes up behind you, smoothing your hair down your back before he starts to braid it. he used to braid your hair all the time when you were kids--he always said he wanted to practice for his sisters.

"you got the car seat, kyle?" you ask as he holds your hand, and he nods.

"mhm. in the car already."

"a-and the diaper bag?"

"in the boot."

"my extra clothes? and my...my stuff?"

"mhm. i got it, love. and whatever you forgot, i'll get it for you. alright, up, buckle in, that's a girl."

he holds your hand the entire way. you groan softly when a particularly painful contraction hits you, but when you squeeze kyle's hand, all he does is squeeze back. you take deep breaths, leaning your head back, and he hums.

"you're doing so well, love. so well."

"why..." your eyes water. you squeeze his hand again, and when you look down, your vision is blurry from your tears. "why didn't he answer? w-why...why doesn't he...w-why would he..."

"don't worry your pretty head about tha', love," kyle interrupts you gently. "only thing you need to worry about is you and her. i got it."

"o-okay."

she's beautiful. she looks more like you than her father, and kyle counts that blessing. she's got your eyes, your nose, your hair. her cheeks belong to her father, but she might as well be your twin, and when kyle takes her from you later that night, rocking her gently, he can really see up close how much she looks like you.

in the middle of the night, kyle holds your hand as you get up to go to the bathroom. your entire body is tender and sluggish, but kyle keeps you upright as you walk, kissing your head gently as he helps you take a seat on the toilet.

he even gets your underwear set up for you, with the big pad and everything, and he helps you step into it and slips them up and over your hips. you're a tearful mess as he does this, but kyle just presses his forehead against yours.

the look in his eyes, you will never forget it. the intensity. the commitment. the stability. every time you pick up the phone, kyle answers, and sometimes he's thousands of miles away. your own boyfriend can't even have the decency to answer when you're nine months pregnant--what did he fucking think the call was going to be about?

back in your room, kyle fits into the bed with you. he lets your rest your head on his chest, and when you ask him if he's going to go home, he tells you this is close enough.

in the morning, kyle's sitting outside your room with the baby. he's holding her, touching her little nose, letting you sleep in. you had a rough night, and when he found you still with your eyes closed that morning, he figured he would let you keep sleeping, just for an extra hour or so.

you deserve it.

"is that her?"

kyle's head turns with a snap. standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, is your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. not man enough to answer the phone when you most needed him, not strong enough to do the right thing and marry you, and not wise enough to realize all he had to do was take care of you, and the world would be right again. you're not greedy. you don't ask for anything. all you want is to love and be loved, and kyle doesn't think that's too much to ask for, kyle thinks you're one of the most selfless women he's ever known, so why does this fucking bastard of a man get to call himself this girl's father?

kyle looks back down, fixing the blanket over your daughter's neck carefully. he thinks he did pretty good swaddling her this time, but you might have an opinion on it.

"i'm gonna say somethin', mate," kyle says lowly. "'n after i say it, y'r gonna do some thinking, real thinking."

he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"why don't you give me my baby, and get the fuck outta 'ere?"

kyle looks up and snickers, shaking his head. he gets a better grip on your daughter, sitting back, and he fixes your ex with a sinister smile.

"and what if i don't? you gonna take her from me?" kyle chuckles. "i'd love to see you try."

he stands, raising a brow.

"listen here, and listen close." kyle takes a step closer to him. "you're a right pile of shit comin' here thinking that you can just waltz right in and be daddy of the year, alright? what kind of man are you, eh? your girl in need, callin' you, and you don't even have the fuckin' balls to answer her? take a good look at your kid, mate, cause it's the last time you're ever gonna see her."

"no, i have the right--"

"to fuck right off," kyle snaps. "if i see you near her or her daughter ever again, i'll find you, and i'll make it worth your while, mate. make you feel real sorry finally, y'hear me? 'n when i take her back home, all of your junk better be out the flat. otherwise, i'll fucking burn it."

"kyle?"

your voice pulls him away. kyle adjusts the baby in his arm, going back inside, and he shuts the door behind him, finding your eyes. you reach for the baby, arms outstretched, and kyle easily sets her down in them, watching as you cradle the tiny thing into the crook of your neck and stroke the back of her neck.

the nurses come in and drop off a few papers. one stops, looking at kyle, giving him a big smile.

"congratulations," she tells him, and he smiles back at her. she takes a seat next to him, holding out a clipboard. "do you think i could get a few details? i just need to know mum's name, baby's name--"

kyle gives it to her. your birthplace. your birthday. your name. your baby's name. then she flips a paper over, putting her pen down.

"and dad's name?" she asks.

kyle sighs, leaning back in his chair. they don't give out birth certificates right away. you have to request it. you won't find out, not just yet, maybe he'll even pick it up for you. you'll be much too busy being mummy dearest.

"kyle," he tells her, flashing her that big smile. she blushes a little, writing it down. "kyle garrick."

he looks back at where you are, your eyes on him. you smile shyly when your eyes meet, and kyle leaves the nurse to come up to you and drape a hand behind your head. he strokes along your hair gently, thumbing at your temple.

"i heard you outside, kyle."

"did you?"

"and i heard you just now."

"mm."

you blink, reaching for the edge of his shirt, and you pull him down, further, until his face is nearly against yours.

"i guess i shouldn't be surprised," you say softly, reaching up to smooth a a few knuckles down his cheek. he leans into it, licking his lips, and you bite your lip. "you've always had a habit of...taking what doesn't belong to you, huh?"

kyle laughs. always the pretty boy, ever since you were little. one smile from him--kyle could get away with anything. anything at all.

"who says you don't belong to me?"

[chobunz]

only you, darling.

pair: toxic bf!sunghoon ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, jealousy, toxic relationship, f.ngering, dacryphilia, slight dub-con ??

[ 💭 ] jealous mean bf!sunghoon who gets off on humiliating you and making you feel guilty for spending too much time away from him. it seems like no matter how many times you apologize or reassure him it’s never good enough— he won’t forgive you unless you really mean it.

a/n. i originally wrote this for giselle from aespa but i thought this concept was also fitting for hoon so i made this version too >~<

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you’re crying out pathetically, sinking your nails into sunghoon’s arm as he’s fingering you roughly, pounding his fingers into your sloppy pussy at a rapid pace. his other hand is enveloped around your neck, choking you but not enough to fully cut off your airflow.

his knuckles are red and injured. the wounds on his skin as a result from his work out due to him not being careful, using the punching bag without gloves. you’ve told him before to at least wrap his hands in bandages, but he kept on insisting that he was ‘fine’.

you felt his fingers trace the inside of your cunt making your face contort messily, your bottom lip held captive by your upper teeth. you wanted to shut your eyes so badly, but you knew you couldn’t— if you dared to even look away for a second you know there would be consequences for it.

“useless fucking cunt,” sunghoon spat out angrily, looking at you as if you’re the person he despises the most in the world, and yet, here he is stuffing you full with his fingers.

your legs couldn’t stop shaking, and the sound of your juices leaking out from your pussy and dripping down to his knuckles is making you see stars. your tiny sobs filled the room, the stretch being too painful, but so pleasurable at the same time..

you were just catching up with an old friend that you accidentally ran into while out at the mall, but, you were laughing a bit too much in sunghoon’s opinion. it felt like walking on eggshells with him, you couldn’t do anything without your boyfriend getting mad or jealous and it’s become tiring at this point. it was unhealthy how possessive he was over you, how he’d track your location whenever you were gone, never letting anyone near you— especially if they’re a male.

“is my attention not enough for you, hm ? i thought you only had eyes for me ?” you try your best to shake your head from side to side, showing your disagreement. “no ?” he wonders, even though he knows he’s enough for you, you’ve told him plenty of times before.

“only... you,” you manage to let out, tears falling from your reddened eyes.

you’re completely naked while sunghoon is fully clothed, still wearing his black t-shirt with a pair of shorts and the silver bracelet with your initial wrapped around his wrist; which only made this situation even more humiliating to you.

he pumps his fingers in and out of you and a slight smile tugs on his lips when you say those two words. he leans in, his mouth just beside your ear. “right, ‘cause you only need me, baby. only me,” he whispers, making goosebumps scatter across your skin, the hair on your arms raising up.

you let out a soft whimper at that, letting go of his arm to crumple his t-shirt between your small fingers. he kisses the side of your face, collecting a single tear of yours at the same occasion. your stomach flutters, your pussy quivers around his fingers and your heart thunders in your chest.

his digits skillfully scissors you open, patting the sweet spot inside of you. and when you come undone, your entire body shakes like a leaf and your vision becomes fuzzy.

you cream his fingers and he slowly pulls them out after, sucking your juices off them one by one. “if you can’t settle for me, i’ll find a way to make you stay. understand ?” his hot breath hits the side of your face as he threatens you in the sweetest voice.

you nod your head in compliance, showing him you understood and he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before crashing your lips with his.

he lies down beside you and you shift yourself closer, hugging him and resting your head down on his chest. you take his bruised hand in yours to observe it quietly, delicately tracing his knuckles, giving them healing kisses.

@leeechin @pshbites ♡︎

[witherby]

do you think that the batfam has different ways of explaining their bruises/injuries they get from crimefighting to an observant mouse? 👼👼👼

--🎆

Fantastic question! I think growing up in Wayne Manor would make it exceptionally difficult to hide the vigilantism from you. They could 100% do it, but it would take about a thousand times more effort concealing it from you than the general public, so I don't think they would.

You're very young when you start really piecing it together, though, so they're gonna have to tell you what happened in child-friendly ways.

The Littlest Wayne: Post-Battle Injuries

1. Bruce

"Wha' happen, daddy?"

This man is not a good liar, but he dodges the truth like it's an Olympic sport. Like any public figure worth their salt, he's gonna answer the question without answering the question.

"Well, when Daddy has to go be Batman, sometimes he gets hurt. The boo-boos will go away after a while, and everything is going to be fine. You'll have to hug gently for a few days."

What he doesn't say is that he took a toyota corolla pushing 70 to the ribs and can feel the broken bones shifting and rubbing together like wet chopsticks under his skin, it's fucking nauseating, and he needs to go pass out as soon as he puts you down for a nap.

2. Dick

"Uh-oh, Dinky hurty?"

If Bruce is admired for keeping his cool in the wake of grievous injury, then Dick wrote the fucking book on it. His picture shows up when you google "gaslight gatekeep girlboss." He could lose a limb and convince you it's always been like that with a straight face. You'll never catch his ass lacking.

"Dinky fell down," he says easily, scooping you into his arms, "but he's fine! See? All okay!" His face doesn't even twitch from all his wounds getting aggravated. There is shrapnel embedded in his back from being thrown through a window and tumbling down the roof. The broken-off blade of a knife is jammed up in his thigh. His right hand has lost all feeling in it from blocking a pipe getting swung at him. There are black spots in his vision. He's lost so much blood it's nothing short of divine intervention keeping him conscious.

You'd bet your ass if you need him to go sprint a 10k right now, though, he's lacing up his tennis shoes.

3. Tim

"Timmy, what wrong?"

He's gonna tell you the truth, and he's the only one that'll tell you the truth. He'll just omit the gorey bits because they're not beneficial to you.

"Oh, this? Bad guy got me good with his knife. It hurts a lot so don't touch it... I just said don't touch it...okay fine, go wash your hands first before you touch it."

He didn't like being kept out of the loop as a child, especially a child that had to raise himself, so he tells you about anything and everything you ask. He'll tell you what medical supplies he's grabbing and why. He'll tell you his estimated recovery time. He'll tell you what wounds the others have, if any. He'll let you touch the safe tools, like gauze and bandages and antibiotic ointment. He'll show you how to apply them, too, and then quickly take you to the sink to wash the blood from your hands.

4. Jason

"Jay-Jay ouchies?"

He's the most unintentionally awkward about it. I think being brought back to life in the Lazarus Pit really fucked up his ability to feel pain. The major injuries still sting — gunshots, stabs, broken bones — but bruises and black eyes and sprains fly under the radar very often.

"Uh, no," he shrugs, looking at the myriad of colorful bruising you just pointed out on his arm. "No ouchies." He's not exactly lying, it doesn't hurt, but it is very clearly an injury. This confuses and upsets you often.

5. Damian

"Dami got a booboo?"

He's lying every single time. He's your older brother. He's a dangerous killing machine. His skill and combat prowess are unmatched. He needs you to think he's incredible and amazing and cool.

"Those half-wit simpletons could never dream of landing a hit on me. Any blood on my clothes is simply not mine."

One of the goons actually clipped his side with a bullet and it really, really hurts. His hands are flexing and he's got sweat running down his neck from the pain. He would actually rather die than let you know that, though.

[oyorama]

I've got a take on this, but you are definitely going to have to hear me out before you blast a hole through the table with your knee.

I use AI sometimes. I do not use it for any of my creative endeavors -- I make music, and I write poetry, and that shit will NEVER fucking touch any creational aspect of my art. I see fugue visions like the rest of em; I let the ghost of vice and agony haunt my body and channel its wretched energies into my stuff like the best of em.

No, instead, the reason I've had to use it is because of... well, mismanagement, I suppose.

Currently, I'm doing a course at a university for my degree, and I've had to switch to a long-distance institution for Reasons. My course is Advanced Programming (final year undergrad), and I'll keep it a buck with you: this institution is DOGSHIT in terms of offering any help or support. It's basically self-study, and the only people I ACTUALLY got help from were a Polish gent on discord (I love you bobini, I promise I haven't forgotten about learning how to turn my music into something BMS can read) and a relative, who is almost always busy doing cybersec stuff et al..

So when said relative recommended I try using AI to help me understand concepts and fill in gaps that documentation and stackexchange discussions weren't quite reaching, I tried to give it a shot.

And I'm happy to say that I STILL have to wrangle something readable out of whatever it spits out. But for once, it's actually close enough to what I'm looking for to get me to actually UNDERSTAND what I need to do. Because fuck knows I've spent two undergrads' worth of time trying to understand this shit to no avail.

I must reiterate: AI can stay the fuck out of generating creative ideas and whatnot. I've seen plenty of Suno slop on YouTube when I'm diving for new music, and as someone who actually LIKES making music, that shit is super disheartening to see.

I have used it because I am not getting any form of consistent or useful help from an institution I fucking pay to do so.

In summary: AI sucks. It has some use in my context, and in music I can MAYBE see it being used as a tool to replicate stuff like guitar tones or instruments in the case that the user does not have access to said instruments and a plugin may not exist, but FUCK people who use it in place of creativity. If I wanted AI to be creative, I'd give it a soul and they could make whatever their digital heart desired.

i literally dont care what your excuse for using AI is. if you didnt put your own effort into making it im not putting my own effort into interacting with it.

[mocchii-writes]

can you do a thanos x reader (with slight dae Ho x reader) where they used to date before he became a rapper and did drugs and she’s the only person he ever truly loved. They break up because of the person he becomes and cut contact, seeing each other for the first time at the games. Thanos is keeping up his cool guy persona and flirting in a dickhead way, but then he sees her getting along with dae Ho (who likes her too) that cause thanos to actually be vulnerable with the reader in private, acting like he once was. up to you if you want to make it an angsty or fluffy ending

Well, all the stars would shine a bloody red

Paring: Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x fem!reader, slight Kang Dae-ho x reader

Summary: Seeing Thanos in the games after he changed for the worse, but he sees you too.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Brief mentions of prayer, mentions of drugs, swearing, death, squid game stuff

A/n: grr I'm not good with angst, I'm sorry if this sucks lol. Also, it came out way longer than I expected, so sorry for that ♡

~🍡🍡

The world seems blurry around Thanos. The leaves on the ground are nothing more than a distraction from your face. His heart beats faster as you smile at him, telling him some story he can't remember. The park is nice, a cool breeze ruffling your hair slightly.

His hearing is the first to go, and your voice becomes incomprehensible murmurs as the world slowly darkens and shifts. He can't see you anymore, either, and his vision soon blackens like an exposed film. Soon, the darkness is replaced by blaring lights as he opens his eyes.

Oh.

He sits up, his loose shirt clinging to his damp cold sweat. Why had he dreamt about you? It was so long ago, but he knew he'd never recover. His mattress always feels empty, now. No matter what girl is in it, it's always empty. You were so perfect, how could he have lost you?

It doesn't matter anymore, and he knows it. His life is better now. He just needs to keep saying that until he can wake up and feel like an entire person. But for now, he's just a husk, and he knows it. He'd never admit it, though. He can hardly admit it to himself. He knows he's changed. He wishes he could say for the better, but fame does something to a person. He still remembers that day.

He was high all the time, at clubs or concerts, hardly home, and hardly himself. You had spoken to him a week or two ago, telling him you were worried.

"Please, Su-bong." You had whispered. It was the first time you had gotten to speak to him in a while. "Why are you doing this? Why are you changing so quickly? So harshly?" He thought you were going to cry. So did you. Your hand rests on his arm. But he, for some fucked up reason, brushed you off.

"Chill, man. I'm not changing, I'm living my life. Why can't you just let me? Be happy for me?" He shoves your hand away. "I have a signing soon, see you later," he dismissed you.

That night, though. He should've been able to tell you were different. Your demeanor was cold and dry. But he couldn't even recognize himself, so you expected nothing more. You were sitting on the couch, arms crossed, zoning out into the ceiling. He stumbled in, clearly high off his mind. He had hickeys. You don't care, at this point. You can't remember the last time he even hugged you, but you stopped trying a while ago.

"Hey, Baby," he muttered, taking off his jacket. He walked over and sat next to you, turning on the TV.

"Do you know what day it is?" You calmly asked. You were prepared for this. You already knew what he would say, he didn't even deserve the benefit of the doubt, but you still asked him anyway.

"Happy anniversary." He'd said, dismissively, switching the channel. You scoffed, focusing your eyes on him. You stood, and he looked at you, almost annoyed.

"You're not yourself." You say, biting your lip, trying not to break.

"What? Flower, I thought we were past this." He groaned. You didn't say anything. You just grabbed your phone and walked to the door.

"Talk to me when you can remember my birthday." You said, slamming the door. He didn't comprehend it at the time, passing out after a while.

But he does now.

He can't take it. He lost all his money, unable to blind himself anymore. He rarely dreams of you, but it hurts more each time he does. He was stupid. He is stupid. He's never felt for someone like you since then. He stands, defeated, and heads outside.

He's not proud of what he plans to do, but he is confused when a man in a suit approaches him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You have to squint your eyes to get used to the bright florescent lights in the strange room you find yourself in. You panic, but only briefly, before remembering the Ddakji, the small card, and the ominous car you entered.

You take a moment to assess your situation but don't get very far. There are many different kinds of people around you, seemingly in the same situation. You wear identical tracksuits with different numbers and are surrounded by strategically stacked metal bed frames. You then notice the violin music playing from seemingly nowhere and everywhere, and you finally stand up.

Many people join you as the crowd looks confused. Until a buzzing sound is heard, cutting off the peaceful music, as large doors at the front of the room open, and people in bright pink uniforms walk out. One starts talking about games, money, and lots of things that would normally interest you (or any other sane person), but your attention has drifted elsewhere, your world stopping in its tracks.

It's not like he's difficult to notice. His hair is still that stupid purple, and he still seems to carry himself with a sense of arrogance, but you almost wish you hadn't seen him, as memories come flooding in of the life you still sometimes mourn.

You barely begin to think of him in a positive light before your thoughts are interrupted by his voice, proving your hopes wrong. "What's with these shoes?" You roll your eyes as you watch the back of his head. "My shoes are limited fucking edition, they're hard to find." He whines. "You going to replace them if they get ruined?" Nice to know his priorities haven't changed. Your dread doesn't fade when other people begin asking questions. You almost get on your knees and pray, right there, that he doesn't see you. Instead, you decide to focus on more important matters and listen to the guards' answers.

One particularly whiny guy pushes a little too hard, and his name and number are soon ominously announced by the guard speaking, followed by his debt, age, and history. You refrain from smiling as a video is played on a large screen of him playing Ddakji and presumably losing. More videos are played, thankfully none of you, but there is one of Thanos, sadly without him getting slapped. The pink guard then continues speaking, offering a chance at a better life, or so he says. It's not like you have very many options, though.

The lights turn off as you watch a clear piggy bank lower, grabbing your interest. Even more when a prize of 45.6 billion won is announced. It's not like you have many options. So, when lines are formed, you sign the paper.

Eyes naturally trailing to Thanos, you notice him fussing with the whiner from earlier. You can't hear what they're saying, but you resist the urge to scoff at his immature behavior. He's nothing if not consistent, at least. It is kind of funny, though, watching him be pulled off of the guy.

You get your picture taken, ignoring a flight of fans to Thanos and an embarrassing moment to witness, and are led to an open, sandy area. You see an ominous-looking doll, but your thoughts are interrupted. "The first game is Red Light, Green Light."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

shit shit shit

What is this psychotic prison? You thought that 456 guy was crazy, high, or something other than honest! You know you don't have much time left. You glance up at the clock as it ticks down.

00:52

Well, fuck. You're going to end up like those people at the start of the game. Just another failure with no money or life dragged away before anyone could remember your name.

You can't distract yourself with that now, though. There are only a few people left (considering there are like 400 in total), and your position at this moment isn't the best. To make things worse, as soon as you hear that devilish singing, you're pushed. Hard.

Your body crashes to the ground, and you feel your leg bruising immediately. You struggle to stand up. You know you can't run anymore. The doll spins its head back around as your mind races.

00:28

You're going to die. You know you are. You can't make it that far whilst limping. You glance around, praying for something to happen in your favor when you make eye contact with someone at the end, already finished.

He looks kind, at least kinder than most people here. He sees you, he sees your situation, and he nods at you. You're unsure what that means until he runs to help you when the music plays again. When he reaches you, he freezes once he has an arm under you.

00:20

The doll looks away, and he pulls you up with ease. You wince, but you know you have bigger issues. He smiles apologetically as you both move as fast as your body lets you until the singing stops again.

00:14

You feel bad for this boy. He's just trying to help you, but you've now taken down another sweet person with you. He senses your tiresome energy and covers his mouth before the doll moves to look around.

"Don't give up. We're so close." He says, staring daggers into your eyes. You squeeze them shut and bite your lip. "You can do this," He whispers. The singing begins again.

00:07

You sigh and push yourself up again, both of you continue moving as you feel people's eyes on you.

00:02

He pushes you forward as you fall over the line, him soon after as the clock stops.

00:00

You instinctively cover your eyes as you hear the shots that echo through the room, as the remaining players lose their lives to this wretched game.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boy walks with you back to the sleeping quarters. You're both shaken, but you manage to speak. "Thank you," you whisper, but you know he hears you. "I thought I wasn't going to make it."

He looks at you and nods. "Of course." He says softly, "I'm Dae-ho." You smile at him and introduce yourself. You both make your way to a corner and sit on his bed as the guards enter the room again.

Some people cry, some people start begging, and you kick your legs and watch it play out, frightened, but curious. Eventually, the familiar piggy bank dramatically stoops down again, this time filling with money, climactic music playing. The mood is soon killed, though. 24 million is the share each player would get, and you squint at the guard. Your mood isn't much better when you hear another voice.

"24 million?" Thanos asks, "You said 45.6 billion!" he says, an accusatory tone in his voice as the guard re-explains the situation. You aren't listening very closely anymore, though. Your heart and mind ache with thoughts of your past. You miss his kindness, the gentle Su-bong, who always closely cared for you. Now, all that's left is a harsh concrete wall between you two and the sting on your shins from the fall you took.

Before you know it, it's time to cast votes on whether to stay or leave this fever dream of a place. Your number is pretty low, so you get to see a lot of people's votes. Unsurprising to you, Thanos wants to stay. After a scene is caused by 456, you cast your vote and return to Dae-ho. He starts talking, breaking the silence between you.

Neither of you are quite sure what there is to say, but he talks anyway. He talks about his sisters, how they raised him, and his father, who never really knew him. He talks about his time in the military and what his life was like. You listen, nodding, laughing when he says something funny, and understanding. You both get food. It's not the best, but it's food, nonetheless. You begin to tell him about your life, but you're soon both distracted by 456, sharing his knowledge on the next game. Curious when you find out it's Dalgona, Dae-ho confirms your suspicions and verifies what the game is. Once the crowd dies down, he energetically offers you and himself to join the group, and they don't decline.

You're soon distracted, though. That empty aching feeling returns as you watch Thanos and his friend harass someone again. The same guy from earlier, 333. No matter how much you think you miss him, it's always drowned out by a hatred for who he is. You're soon brought to reality again as the sound of Thanos hitting the ground drives your attention back to the situation. The boy is soon held back and punched. Your stomach tightens as you watch the boy you once knew to be funny and kind, be so aggressive and violent. You know he'll never change, so you simply turn to focus on something less depressing, only to find Dae-ho slipping his egg onto your plate. You smile at him, distracting yourself successfully until even he looks over, noticing a man from your group kicking Thanos's ass.

You have to refrain from laughing, but Dae-ho doesn't try to hide the grin on his face. You could hardly admit to yourself that it slightly ached your soul to see your sweet boy be hurt like that, but the thought diminished quickly, replaced with an anxious realization that you're not just looking at Thanos, but his eyes.

He sees you.

Oh, fuck.

This was probably worse than watching that stupid timer tick away. His eyebrows soften from angry to shocked to bittersweet. He doesn't smile at you, but you can almost see his apology in his eyes if it weren't for his dilated pupils. His eyes look next to you, but your attention is soon changed as you hear Dae-ho. "Are you alright?" He asks, looking at you. It's only now you realize you're shaking, and you suddenly feel it all settling in. Your situation. The people, the place, the danger, it's a little too much. You bite your lip and nod, heading to the bathroom to clear your head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You honestly should've expected it, but you didn't. You're standing over the sink, washing blood off of your face when the door opens. You look and immediately look away. How did he even get in here? You let out a shaky sigh as you grip the sink, distracting yourself yet again.

"Hey," Thanos says, his tone a little lighter than what you've heard so far.

"I can't believe they even let you in here." You scoff, trying, and failing, to hide the crack in your voice as you look at your reflection. You're a mess. Your hair is damp with sweat, water, and probably blood. Your face is tired, your lip is quivering. You honestly look worse than him, and he just got the shit beaten out of him. "What do you want from me?" You say, not looking at him. You honestly don't expect him to be gentle with you, he never was before you broke up, but you're proven wrong.

"I don't want to upset you, Baby." He whispers, walking closer slowly.

"Don't call me that." You say, closing your eyes. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be an asshole like he always was. Then you could tell him off and leave him in the dust again, but now you have no plan. He's not being Thanos, he's being Su-bong. You haven't heard from Su-bong in a painfully long time.

He's still coming closer. You don't move, though. You're not sure what you want him to do, but you don't think he knows either. He leans down a little bit to look at you from the side, and you open your eyes and look at him, finally. He's so pretty. You feel your eyes getting glassy as you look at him, the pain of your burnt love story refreshing in your mind. His eyes aren't as dilated, but still a bit. You hope it's just because he's looking at you, but you aren't going to think about it.

He seems to notice your glossy eyes and furrows his brows, tilting his head slightly and looking at you sympathetically. It felt unwelcome but familiar. He lifts a hand slightly, appearing to try to touch you, but doesn't move it from its place in the space between you. You don't pull your eyes from his until the stinging is too much, and you close your eyes. You tilt your head downwards to hide the trickle against your cheek.

You feel his hand hold your face gently as he sighs lightly. "I'm so sorry," is all he whispers. You want to lean into his touch and accept his offer of love and forgiveness, but you're scared. He knows you are. But you don't move. You don't want him to stay, but you don't want him to leave.

"I know." You say, defeated. You bring your arms away from the sink to play with your hands, your body naturally turning to him. "You always said you were." You whisper, sniffing. You see his eyes close and he looks frustrated with himself, but you feel his other hand on yours, gently rubbing his thumb over your hands.

"I was so stupid, angel. I couldn't see what I was igniting until our love was already burnt." He says, never taking his eyes off you. You laugh lightly, and he smiles, confused. "What?"

"Kinda sappy, but I'd expect nothing less from you." You tease, as he scoffs. You sniff once more before dragging your eyes to meet his. You're met with nothing but care in his eyes. You look at him and are reminded of your perfect boy, who always made you smile.

"Please forgive me." He whispers. "I still dream about you. I've never loved someone like I love you." He admits, so quiet he was scared you might not hear, but you did. Your heart beats a little faster as you move closer, leaning your forehead to his. he closes his eyes, and you copy. You had certainly missed this.

"It will be difficult," you say, he nods, "Don't hurt me again, please." He bites his lip, and both his hands find your jaw, moving back to look at you.

You inch closer to each other, painfully slow. Your breath is shallow, you can feel your brain screaming to stop. He's so soft, though. Nothing is stopping you. You can feel his breath fanning onto your nose as his thumb glides over your cheek. Your hands have the urge to hold him, to let him love you and cherish you. You want to lay your face on his neck and fall asleep in his arms.

You want to question yourself, too. You want to stop, run away, and ignore every call. That is until your hands find his shirt, and you realize you can't stop if you try. This is what you need. This is why you want to cry. This is what you're aching for, and the heart wants what it wants.

So, you lean forward, accepting the wave of warmth that washes over you when he softly kisses you. You get chills up your body, one of your hands moving to his neck, then to his hair, slowly pressing a little harder, feeling him loosen in your grasp. You want to keep it this way forever, to stay in his presence and be showered with gentle love and appreciation until you're suffocated. But still, you lean back. You can't deny you're glad to see his smile when you open your eyes, and he can't say he's upset to see yours shining back.

[eyesonlybutterflies]

Instant regret

���𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: rough!Sunghoon x f!reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 0.9k

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: smut, angst, praise, degrading, face-slapping, Sunghoon feels terrible and cries, reader realises she kinda likes it, comfort, happy ending

18+ 𝓜𝓝𝓓𝓘!!!

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

'Deeper, Hoon, please!' You gasp as your boyfriend is hitting you in all the right places. 'You like it, huh?' Sunghoon says with a smirk, shamelessly pounding his dick against your cervix, 'you're such a good slut, enjoying all of my cock.'

His hands move away from your waist, quickly grab a handful of your bouncing boobs in front of him and eventually landing on your throat. He caresses your precious neck with his thumbs. 'Fuck you look so pretty under me,' he groans as you look up at him with teary eyes.

The pace of Sunghoon's pounds start to increase when he feels you clenching down on him, signaling how close you are. It's driving him insane. You're so tight, you almost push him out of you.

Sunghoon's mind start spinning as he feels his own climax quickly approaching. 'Sunghoon please, I mm-,' everything feels so good, his dick inside of you, the slight twitches of his penis, Sunghoon's primal expression, his hands on your throat, you can't make any coherent sentences anymore. It's all just whimpers and whines.

The sight of you falling apart in front of Sunghoon is the last drop of the bucket before he does something he's only ever thought of doing to you...

A red mark quickly develops as Sunghoon's hand leaves your cheek. Your head hasn't moved to look him in the face, eyes still fixed on the wall as you try to process what just happened. Both of you are immediately out of the headspace and Sunghoon feels ocean waves worth of guilt washing over him as he realises what he's just done.

'I'm so sorry baby! Omg I shouldn't have done that! I didn't mean to I'm so sorry!' The apologies fly out of his mouth, genuinely sorry for what he's done. Except nothings reaching your ears as they're still slightly ringing from the shock.

You're snapped back to reality as you feel a hand reach your cheek. You flinch as you turn your head to see Sunghoon with a regretful expression on his face. He can't believe he hurt you so bad that you 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 from his touch.

And so, when you get up and race to the bathroom, he doesn't follow. How can he when he was the one to hurt you to begin with. He sits down on the bed, legs crossed, and trying to fight the tears coming up. But he doesn't win. Silent tears start to stream down his cheeks as he just stares at the bathroom door. He has no idea what you're doing and even less of an idea how to approach you.

Will you understand? Will you forgive him? Will you act like nothing happened? Will you break up with him?

A slight yelp escapes his mouth at the last thought. He bites his fist to try and silence his cries. He feels like he has no right to act sad when he has caused all this, he caused your pain.

You stare into the mirror, but your vision is impaired from all the tears in your eyes. Slowly you come to realise what just happened. You've always known your boyfriend was more rough and liked it a bit aggressive, but normally you communicate about it.

This time he didn't, and you're more dissappointed about the lack of communication rather than him actually slapping you in the face. In fact, he might have just unlocked a part of you that you didn't know existed. The anger you had mustered was swiftly washed away as you calmed down.

After a few minutes, you were clear minded enough to return to the bedroom. However, as you were about to unlock the door, you realised how your boyfriend must feel about this whole situation. He's not abusive, he doesn't have a violent bone in his body. He has been the most loving, doting, and overall amazing boyfriend you've ever had. Always caring about you and taking care of you. So why didn't he knock on the door and check up on you?

That question was promptly answered as you quietly open the door and see him with his head in his arms, trying to silence his sobs and stop his shoulders from shaking.

When you're right in front of him, you lay your hands on his shoulders. He looks up with red, swollen eyes. 'My poor baby,' is the only thing you say before pulling in a hug, where he breaks down. 'I'm so sorry y/n, I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry. I understand if you want to break up, it's horrible, I'm horrible, I'll be out the door before you know i-'

His rambling is put to a stop as you kiss him. It's soft, sweet, gentle. Sunghoon seems to soften up from the kiss apart from the occasional hiccup caused by his previous sobs. 'You don't have to leave, Hoonie.' 'No no, I'll pack up, you don't have to do this.' 'No, listen. I... might have enjoyed it a little?' Sunghoon looks at you perplexed, 'Liked? Baby, I hit you, you were hurt.' You wipe his tears away and shake your head, 'You didn't hurt me, I was shocked, that's all.'

There's a moment of silence. You're waiting for Sunghoon to say something, but he just can't find the words. Thoughts are scattered whilst the tears still serenely stream down his cheek. He then kisses your hand, 'I'm so sorry baby. I should've talked about it first.' 'I know, Hoon. It's okay, I forgive you.'

Sunghoon presses you against his chest as tightly as possible and presses kisses all over your face to let you know just how much he loves you.

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝! <𝟑

[soobnny]

yellow sticker — seungmin x reader ; established relationship & happens in the universe of ‘cops and robbers’ (1.5k words)

kim seungmin, resident fuckboy turned soft boy, is on a mission to quit smoking

this was a request by @.notmyblogsblog and i loved it too much not to write it. i hope this is how u pictured it :) btw posting again bc it didn’t show up in the tags the first time

There’s a certain tone in Kim Seungmin’s voice that tells you he wants your attention. It’s partly whiny. Almost annoyed—though, only because he refuses to believe other things weigh heavier in gravity over him in your life.

“Babyyyy.” The drawl in his ‘y’s. The exasperation of his sigh. All very clear tells for the boy.

He hasn’t moved to interrupt you yet, hasn’t moved to block your line of vision and whatever the fuck picture you wanted to take, but you see him enough through your peripheral vision to see the pout of his expression.

You can only laugh. “I told you it’d be boring if you came with me, and you did anyway.”

“Is it such a crime to want to spend time with the girl I like? Besides, I like watching you. Passion looks very sexy on you.”

Well. You’d be lying if you said there was nothing you felt inside from that.

“Shut up.” You swallow, though you can sense relentless teasing from him with the way you set your camera on the desk behind you to try and avert his gaze from your heat-stricken cheeks. “Don’t you have to go now?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. “I… do. Yeah.”

“With the boys, right?”

Seungmin and his friends have this thing where they meet at specifically set times. You’d jokingly called it the Fuckboy Assembly, but stopped since the boy had expressed his distaste for the word “fuckboy”. He didn’t like the connotations anymore, didn’t feel like he deserved you if he kept at his ways before he’d met you.

And while he couldn’t get rid of his ties with that title fully, especially not from strangers who liked labelling him, he at least didn’t want it to come from you.

“Yeah.” There’s that surge of dejection in his voice.

You keep your eyes on him, the way his eyes look downcast on his phone to check for the time before looking back at you. He looks like he wants to say something. You start to feel guilt at your lack of attention to him whilst you’d practiced your shots.

“How about… you come over to my dorm later and I cook us dinner? You know, after you hangout with your friends? …If you want.”

The way he perks his head up is cute, and more so when his lips pull into a smile.

Seungmin looks at you like he needed that response, as if making sure you actually want to spend time with him too. He tries to sound suave with his response but all you hear is a giggle he fails to mask. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Then there’s a soft love tap on your cheek before he kisses it. “I’ll see you later?”

You hum. “Just knock four times so I know it’s you.”

“I’ll make up every excuse to get to you faster. I’m starting to get sick of the boys’ faces anyways.” You laugh. “See you later!”

–

“Earth to Seungmin?”

The younger boy perks up like he’s just realized what trance he had been in. “What?”

“What’s that on your jacket?” Hyunjin sounds like he’s on the verge of laughter, and the way Seungmin tilts his head down to look at it makes him look cute.

There, in the midst of his scruffed up bad boy image and the leather jacket he’s wearing is an uncharacteristic bright yellow star, just where his heart is.

All the boys lean close enough to notice the little sticker.

“(Name) gave it to me for not smoking for a week.” There is a soft smile on his lips at the memory of your eyes—the way you’d looked at him after he’d confessed he’d been a week clean of cigarettes. “Says it’s for my health. Plus, she doesn’t like the smell so I’m quitting.”

“Well, shit. He really has gone soft.”

There’s loud wolf whistles and tossing and turning coming from every direction, but it all just falls deaf on his ears. He doesn’t even care to be teased anymore, doesn’t find the reason to be defensive. All he really cares about is making you happy—only cares about the smile on your face if he’s clean for another week, and another week, and a month, and a year.

“He was probably with her earlier too. That’s why you were so late, hmmm, Seungminnie?”

“So what if I was?”

The whistles don’t stop, and certainly also not the playful shoving. Flits of moments like this with his friends are stupid, but it’s also endearing.

“Who was it that said she wasn’t even their type anyway?”

“Shut up. I lied, okay? I like her. A lot.” Seungmin shoves them back. “So stop fucking smoking in front of me because I plan on getting another sticker next week.”

“There’s just no hope for him anymore.” Changbin laughs.

“Yeah. I feel like I know everything about her, and I haven’t even met her yet.” Felix adds.

“Oh, none of you are meeting her. Absolutely not.”

“What the fuck? Why not?”

–

There’s four knocks on your door just when the clock hits 7pm, and you fumble to open the door while trying not to burn the dinner you’re cooking.

“You’re early.” You say sternly, pointing your ladle at him—almost accusing.

“I missed you, so I ditched them.”

Seungmin has no trouble admitting he’s attached. He likes being around you, even when you aren’t paying any attention to him. He likes the way you curl your lips when you concentrate, the way your eyes narrow at your viewfinder, the way you hold a smile to yourself when you take a shot you like.

He likes it even when you scold him for the smallest things.

“‘M not finished cooking dinner yet.” He sets his shoes aside, just by your shoe rack, before he moves towards the direction of the kitchen where you’d returned to after opening the door for him.

“Need any help?”

“I’d rather not burn my dorm down.”

Seungmin can’t quite see your face when you have your back turned towards him, but he can already picture the laugh-laced smile on your face.

He moves over to wrap his arms around your waist, chin rested on your shoulder as he gets himself comfortable. Your face feels ticklish to the strands of his hair, but you don’t make a move to push him away. “Missed you.”

“It’s only been 3 hours since we saw each other. You’re so dramatic.”

He hums. “How did your pictures turn up?”

Seungmin doesn’t miss the way your eyes lighten up at the question. “I got a really good shot. I think I’m gonna add it to my portfolio.”

“Yeah?” He asks, fingers toying with the ends of your shirt. “Can I see them later?”

“Really?” You pause your concentration to look at the boy, freezing from your stirring even. His head turns to the side so he can look at you better, and damn, what a sight he’s subjected to. Seungmin can’t help but coo at how adorable you look. Your eyes are little wide with something akin to childlike wonder and your smile is so genuine, and fuck, he is so in love.

“Of course.” He coos softly. You’re eye-to-eye, and it’s almost intimidating the honesty you see in his. Seungmin loves lying, considers it his pastime even, but not to you. He’s always honest with you.

“Okay.” You whisper more to yourself, turning your attention back on your cooking. He doesn’t miss the chance to pepper kisses from your ear down to your neck.

His lips feel soft against your skin.

You can’t help but drift back to when you’d first met him.

If you’d told yourself then about the compromising position you were in now, you wouldn’t have believed it true. But fuck, you’re thankful to yourself for giving him a chance, and you’re thankful to him for holding true to his words.

Here he is, bare with vulnerability and honesty, and so quiet and kind behind you, quitting the things he never thought he’d be able to just because you didn’t like them.

You know you care about Seungmin. And while maybe you aren’t in love quite just yet, you know you’re already on the way. The feelings you have for him is different than the ones you’ve felt before. Falling in love with Seungmin feels contradictingly safe. It doesn’t feel as scary as you thought, because he made it so easy for you to feel happy and secure.

There is comfort in the slowness of your relationship, in how he didn’t pressure you to feel as much as he did.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You.”

“Among other boys?”

You laugh at the familiarity of the words. You’d thrown them at him just a few months ago. “Just you, and about how much I like you.”

“Well.” He smiles. “If it makes you feel any better, I really like you too.”

You feel yourself smile back at him, even bigger than before, and Seungmin feels his heart nearly burst at the sight.

“Go set the table. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Whatever you need, baby.”

Yeah, definitely in the process of falling in love.

[checkeredflagggs]

Pole Position

Pairing: logan sargeant x stripper!reader

summary: after a(nother) bad race, logan does as anyone in Vegas does — drinks himself into a couple of bottles, meets the newest stripper in the club, and marries her? …wait what??

a/n: @sinofwriting is an enabler and shouldn’t be talked to at 3am…

a/n2: I support sex work of all kind — if you disagree, don’t come crying to me

a/n3: still working on story of us: chapter 3 but it just keeps getting longer and longer — people keep trying to flirt with y/n. It was just supposed to be a short bridge chapter 😭 but I work better under stress so I WILL have it out by Wednesday

a/n4: no particular year for this piece btw but mostly 2024

sweet_as_cherrie_pie

liked by user, user, user, and 1,124 others

tagged: the_lumberyard

sweet_as_cherrie_pie: training? done 🥳

view all comments

user1: 🥵🥵🥵

↳user2: oh so excited for a new dancer…

user3: 🍆🍆🍆💦💦💦🍑🍑🍑???

↳user4: disgusting behavior

↳user3: this is a stripper’s page?

↳user4: and you think she deserves…you???

user5: Stop this ungodly behavior at once young lady!

↳user6: not to repeat those disgusting comments above — this is a strippers page.

↳user5: it’s a page of filth

↳user6: so how come you’re here?

user7: you’ve got this!

user8: I got to see some of your training and woooweee mama the dedication and physicality of it…

↳user9: I tried it once (looking for a new workout routine) and that was ENOUGH

↳user9: congrats girl!

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, user, and 790,469 others

tagged: williamsracing

logansargeant: I’m sorry guys — not the race we wanted this weekend but we’ll learn and come back stronger next time

view all comments

alex_albon: next time for sure 💪🏻!

↳logansargeant: absolutely!

↳user15: keep on dreaming — you suck

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user16: what a fucking waste of a seat

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user17: Williams I beg — drop the dead weight

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jvf1: next time

↳user18: well that’s ominous as shit

oscarpiastri: just gotta keep learning mate

↳logansargeant: we absolutely do!

↳user20: you do! Oscar isn’t the giant loser you are

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user21: never been so glad for a break in the calendar — gotta forget this disaster class drive(r)

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f1_gossip

liked by user, user, and 2,193,924 others

f1_gossip: what a wild night Vegas turned out to be! Pierced together from several drivers’ stories last night, the party started early and lasted for a while — it looks like someone now has a lifelong commitment actually

view all comments

user22: WHAT??? WHO???

↳user23: where’s that detective chick? Or the obsessive Bluesky users? WHO GOT MARRIED

user24: my bet is Max and Kelly — they celebrated his win a little to hard

↳user25: I always thought it would be charles to be the one to get drunk married…

↳user26: …yeah ok I can see the vision

user27: that head of hair? Carlos! Definitely 💯

↳user28: I’m throwing my money in on Lando? He totally gives off Vegas wedding vibes

oscarpiastri: …🧐🧐

↳logansargeant: …😬

user29: I was gonna say Daniel but Oscar and Logan are making me suspicious…

↳user30: yeah…now who do we think?

↳alex_albon: my money would be Lando

↳user31: sounds just like something someone with something to hide would say

↳alex_albon: im cuddling a plastic flamingo and am too drunk to make sense of that sentance

landonorris: maxverstappen1 you are never mixing me a drink again…anyone know where i am?

↳user32: LANDO?? DID YOU GET MARRIED LAST NIGHT??

↳landonorris: MARRIED?? TOWHO??!?

↳charles_leclerc: you got married and didn’t invite me? 🥺

↳maxverstappen1: or me?

↳carlossainz55: mate…

↳maxfewtrell: without your best man?

↳landonorris: im nOT MARRIED???

Private Messages, Boss and Cherrie

Private Messages, Logan and Cherrie

logansargeant

liked by sweet_as_cherrie_pie, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 1,344,924 others

tagged: sweet_as_cherrie_pie

logansargeant: I guess what they say is true…what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas. I’m glad though that you said yes (again)

view all comments

sweet_as_cherrie_pie: it’s the blue eyes. They make me stupid

↳user33: I have never agreed with anything more faster in my life oh my god?

user34: you married a stripper

↳logansargeant: I guess I did

↳user34: 🤮🤮🤮

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↳user34: great pick — either a gold digger or a used whore

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this user was blocked

oscarpiastri: so it WAS you who got married!

↳logansargeant: Apparently 😂

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: yeah I guess those Elvis chapels are actually legally binding? Idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

↳user35: I’ve had cherrie for only a minute but if something happened to her, I’d kill everyone then myself

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: extreme but I get it

alex_albon: YOU GOT DRUNK MARRIED IN VEGAS???

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: Watch your tone when talking to my husband.

↳user36: wow that period is the most threatening thing I’ve ever seen

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: it should be.

↳alex_albon: logansargeant help?

↳logansargeant: …sorry Alex but I got your flowers babe liked by sweet_as_cherrie_pie, user…see more

user37: wow I really had it being Lando who got married

↳landonorris: WHY. IM DEFINITELLY NKT THE TYOE TO GET DRUNK MARRIED

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: Is there something wrong with that Mr Lando Norris, 123 Monaco Street Monaco?

↳landonorris: WHY DO YOU KNOW MY ADDRESS logansargeant HELP

↳logansargeant: 😂

↳landonorris: stop laughing at my pain

jvf1: I expect you back at the Grove by Friday Logan

↳logansargeant: Yes Sir

↳user38: uh oh

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: Oh I’d love to meet you.

user39: when she’s (violently) protective 😍😍

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: Oh im ride or die for my people liked by logansargeant

y/n_sargeant

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 1,123,221 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n_sargeant: when he has big blue eyes and looks good on his knees…you say yes (twice)

view all comments

user40: girl I don’t think you can actually say that

↳y/n_sargeant: who’s gonna stop me?

user41: the name change though…

↳logansargeant: oh im not letting her get away

↳y/n_sargeant: locked in for life 🔒 (and Cherrie was just a stage name anyway…)

↳user41: 😍

oscarpiastri: I think I’ll like getting to know you y/n

↳y/n_sargeant: same pastry boy

↳oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄

↳user42: oh I love this friendship already

alex_albon: …you’ll be coming with Logan then?

↳y/n_sargeant: you couldn’t pull me away

↳alex_albon: for how long???

↳y/n_sargeant: Well considering I got fired for getting married? Forever.

↳user39: still loving that (violently) protective bond

landonorris: no??

↳y/n_sargeant: Yes Mr Lando Norris, 123 Woking Street England

↳landonorris: HOW DO YOU ONOW THAT ADDRESS???

↳georgerussll63: Oh I’m going to love getting to know you y/n_sargeant liked by y/n_sargeant

logansargeant

liked by y/n_sargeant, oscarpiastri, and 993,234 others

tagged: y/n_sargeant

logansargeant: must be too fast for my own good — I got married before I started to date her. We’re fixing that now 🩵

view all comments

y/n_sargeant: ♥️♥️♥️ love you hubby

↳user43: I am so so jealous (and so single)

user44: no but dating your wife…

↳logansargeant: always

↳user44: ok just call us sad and single little vroom vroom boy

↳y/n_sargeant: trust me — there is NOTHING little about him

↳logansargeant: babe 😆

user50: ok but what kind of pie is that?

↳logansargeant: cherry! It’s y/n’s favorite

↳y/n_sargeant: actually you’re my favorite

↳user49: still don’t think you can say that… liked by y/n_sargeant, logansargeant

lilymhe: alex_albon take some notes

↳alex_albon: y/n_sargeant how long are you staying again?

↳logansargeant: forever and ever and ever liked by y/n_sargeant

user51: ok but who won the uno game?

↳y/n_sargeant: i did

↳logansargeant: she’s absolutely ruthless

↳y/n_sargeant: 🥹🥰

↳y/n_sargeant: but no I don’t take prisoners — not even my husband

y/n_sargeant

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,234,924 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n_sargeant: oh yeah he’s all mine 🥵🥵🥵

view all comments

user52: im seeing the vision

user54: yummy 🤤

logansargeant: yeah Williams wants you to go through pr training now

↳y/n_sargeant: I will not but thanks for asking

↳williamsracing: it was really less of an ask and more of a requirement

↳y/n_sargeant: still gonna be a no

↳williamsracing: understandable queen — thanks for your time

↳user55: it was that easy?

oscarpiastri: i'm glad we’re in a different hotels

↳y/n_sargeant: Don’t worry about it. 😁 I’ve got time.

↳oscarpiastri: ominous

↳y/n_sargeant: Yup!

user56: is that…is that Logan pole dancing???

↳logansargeant: well I’ve got a great teacher!

↳y/n_sargeant: 🥵🥵🥵 you keep working that pole baby!!

↳logansargeant: whatever you say liked by y/n_sargeant

williamsracing

liked by y/n_sargeant, oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 1,948,138 others

tagged: logansargeant

williamsracing: AND THAT’S P1 FOR LOGAN! IN HIS FIRST EVER F1 PODIUM, HE CINCHED THE TOP STEP HERE IN ABU DHABI

And congratulations to Alex for his p5!

view all comments

y/n_sargeant: HE DID IT!! THATS MY MAN

↳user57: HE’S ON THE TOP STEP?!

↳y/n_sargeant: not just on the top step 🥵🥵

↳user57: we really can’t keep defending you girl

↳y/n_sargeant: im getting so railed tonight i don’t even care liked by user57, user…see more

user58: Williams points?

↳y/n_sargeant: WILLIAMS LOGAN PODIUM

user59: petition to have y/n come to every race ever — she’s clearly Logan’s lucky charm liked by logansargeant, y/n_sargeant

↳y/n_sargeant: absolutely!

↳user60: clearly! Her pole dancing translated to pole positions liked by logansargeant, y/n_sargeant

y/n_sargeant

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 2,823,183 others

tagged: logansargeant, alex_albon, williamsracing, jvf1, liakblock

y/n_sargeant: thanks for getting drunk and marrying me in Vegas baby — and congrats to the Williams Racing Team for a good last race!

view all comments

user61: did…did you dump a container of Gatorade on JAMES?

↳y/n_sargeant: gotta give him some of that good ol’ American hospitality right? liked by user61

logansargeant: that was the best impulse decision I’ve ever made!

↳y/n_sargeant: it really really was

↳user62: ok this is calling me single in more languages then I know how to speak

oscarpiastri: congratulations man!

↳logansargeant: you too! Constructors Champs!

↳landonorris: papaya rules!!

↳y/n_sargeant: Did you forget something Mr Lando Norris, Room 344 Abu Dhabi Hotel Abu Dhabi?

↳landonorris: SERIOUSLY HOW ARE YOI DOING THAT!!

↳landonorris: also congrats on p1 Logan!

↳y/n_sargeant: I have my ways

alex_albon: congrats dude! Knew you could do it!

↳y/n_sargeant: yeah he can!!!

↳logansargeant: thanks man! And congratulations to you too!

↳y/n_sargeant: and congrats to you too Alex!

jvf1: My office. Now.

↳y/n_sargeant: yeah we’ll see you next year dude

↳logansargeant: sorry sir. We’re on our way

↳y/n_sargeant: yeah alright I guess…

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby

[chevroletdean]

Tennessee Whiskey & Strawberry Wine

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff TO NOTE/WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, swearing, Dean is really pathetic in this one, past established relationship, mentions of arguments/breakups, (mutual) pining, suggestive innuendos but nothing explicit, second chances? WORD COUNT: 3.1k SUMMARY: It's been months since you broke up with Dean and he's never been able to fully move on. It's when you run into him again that you realize... maybe, just maybe, neither have you. A/N: This is for @rubyvhs' 500 celebration! I got the song 'Tennessee Whiskey' by Austin Giorgio and if that song doesn't scream Dean Winchester, then I don't know. It was a no-brainer to me. Congratulations again, Laila, on 500 well deserved followers!! CREDIT/LINKS: Lace divider, reblog divider, header images edited by me, Dean gif

“I know I ordered a strong whiskey, but I didn’t expect you to make me this weak.”

He remembers you giggling at that cheesy line, the sound still clear as a bell and as angelic as one too. Even today, months after watching you walk away, he can picture the way you rolled your eyes and smiled at him. Bright and joyful.

A stark contrast to the otherwise dull and cruel reality bestowed upon you and him.

Not that you never got along. Quite the opposite, actually.

You and Dean had clicked immediately after meeting for the first time, especially after learning how much you had in common. Then, after working on several cases together, one thing lead to another and at some point you two had become inseparable.

The infamous duo. The ‘it couple’ among hunters. With just as much of a tragic ending as any actual celebrity’s scandalous love story too, sadly.

For your similarities were two sides of the same coin — a common ground for the two of you to understand and to relate to each other, yes. But also a bottomless pit of stubbornness and reason for anger.

So much anger. Endless arguing, with neither of you letting up and both of you doubling down.

Dean always loved your temper, your passion — he still does. But when two hotheads collide, an explosion is bound to happen. You were doomed from the start.

As capable as both of you were when it came to hunting, fighting the ugly monsters between yourselves was a losing battle.

You guys only knew how to exorcise the demons outside your relationship. The two of you could lift any curse except your constant fighting. And now, Dean is left chasing those memories of you like he would a ghost. Not to put it to rest, but to let it haunt his broken heart.

Despite Dean’s apprehension, Sam has insisted on taking a case in Nashville. Everything here reminds Dean of you, not least the very same bar where he first met you.

Love at first sight is something so cliché and Dean Winchester doesn’t do romance. Or rather, he didn’t. Not before getting to know you. In many ways, that fateful evening had changed his life. Had changed him.

Part of him wonders if it’s ever possible again, preferably with you. But he knows such thinking is wishful. Or maybe anxiety inducing. Probably a little bit of both.

Although he’s well aware that (a) the chances of actually running into you here are pretty low, and (b) he doesn’t even know if he could actually take seeing you again, Dean finds himself at the bar’s counter, where he orders an overpriced shot of Tennessee Whiskey and listens to the bartender’s overenthusiastic lecture of said local specialty.

She’s a pretty girl, working her charms on any potentially generous patron. Without a doubt she’s able to sweet-talk multiple customers into a huge tip. And fuck it, even Dean indulges and orders a second shot, followed by a third.

Though he swears, sip by sip, the whiskey began to taste like you.

His time here turns into a vicious cycle of nostalgia, wanting to forget, and being forced to remember all over again.

The liquid burns in his throat and it blurs his vision. For a second he thinks he could pretend the girl serving him his fourth drink was you. In his mind her hair changes its color to yours, but when he realizes he’s not able to get your voice right, he’s giving up.

What a horrible idea to come to this bar of all places to forget about you. What a laughable idea to hope he might see you again. Pathetic, even. Both of it. All of it. All of him.

No matter how cute — and under different circumstances, he might’ve hit on her in more serious fashion — she’s not you. She never could be, nobody can. And maybe she doesn’t have to be.

“You know, sweetheart,” he trails off, committed to erasing you from his memory tonight.

The woman giggles and it sounds so wrong in his ears. Her cheeks warm up but the pink shade doesn’t look right to him.

“I know I ordered a strong whiskey,” Dean grins, albeit the curl of his lips is lopsided and the words feel wrong in his mouth. “But I didn’t expect—”

It’s all too different from when he’d say these words to you. Not to mention how unfair it feels towards the girl, to you, even to himself to recycle that cheap tactic.

He doesn’t get to finish his act anyway. Not when the scent of sweet vanilla and strawberries wafts through the air and swallows his attention whole. He interrupts himself midsentence, heart threatening to leap into his throat and blocking any and every further word.

He’d recognize the perfume anywhere. Or the electricity that crackles dangerously within the small space between his arm and that of the new patron. His green eyes barely dare to glance to the source of the dizzying aura.

At last, they settle on the stool next to his. Where you’re making yourself comfortable, nonchalantly combing your fingers through your hair — it’s gotten longer since he’s last seen you — and smiling at the waitress.

“What he was trying to say,” you speak and your voice makes his heart burst on the spot, “is to add another one to his tab. Along with one glass of wine, please. Red.”

Dean must’ve been staring and gaping at you like an idiot, mouth still open in shock and eyes just as wide, because you give him a brief one-over and giggle softly. That godforsaken giggle that makes every fiber of him buzz with warmth.

“Hey, Dean,” you smile and even though it’s a little tense, awkward even, you pull it off with such ease. “I gotta say, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

How you can just start up a conversation with him baffles him. Then again, you always had the ability to make things seem so easy.

He’s still busy trying to process that you’re here, right next to him. Too busy to realize he’s looking like a complete idiot — already tipsy, caught red handed, and unable to come up with a proper response.

“What brings you to Nashville, Dean?”

Where he can’t get out a single word, you keep talking to him as if nothing happened. As if you didn’t walk out that door all those months ago. You avert your gaze from him and glance over to the waitress that’s tending to your order.

If he didn’t know it any better, he’d say there’s a spark of jealousy dimming the familiar spark in your eyes.

You lower your voice. Hell, you lean closer to him and your elbow touches his and since he can’t freeze anymore than already, he thinks he might turn into stone and marble instead. Your smirk is subtle but mischievious while you whisper to him: “Looking for love?”

Dean’s pretty sure that he’s already found it.

“Sammy and I are workin’ on a case nearby,” he finally manages to explain, after clearing his throat. He picks up his empty glass, deft fingers toying with its rim.

You purse your lips, then you press them together into a thin line, before releasing the plump of it with the faintest pop. You’re trying to kill him, you have to be.

“Didn’t know you were around here still,” he mumbles and prays you don’t notice the tremble in his voice — or, if you do, that you’ll attribute it to the abundance of whiskeys he’s had.

“I never left,” you reply swiftly.

He can’t help but cringe. Because you have. You have left it all behind.

The bartender returns with another shot of whiskey and a glass of wine. She blinks between you and Dean for a second, before reluctantly turning her back on you two. Dean knows his chances with her are blown, but that’s not what he’s bitter about.

He’s bitter about you. About you waltzing in and stomping on his ripped out heart.

“Sorry,” you sigh with a pout, “I ruined your game.”

Without a word, Dean sets his empty glass down onto the counter.

“It’s just… well, I saw you sitting here and thought I should say hi,” you continue.

He picks up the new glass, still not responding.

“It’s been a while, I thought we could catch up and—”

Dean finally looks up, straight towards you with an expression that’s difficult to read, but apparently enough to shut you up. Apparently he’s not happy seeing you. Or maybe he is, he honestly doesn’t know himself.

“What kind of reunion were you hoping for, sugar?”

Your eyes widen at his question, even more so at the use of that petname. An endearment you haven���t heard him say to you in so long. It used to be such a casualty, something you’ve always taken for granted, that you’re shocked you forgot its effect.

“I don’t know,” you admit meekly. “I honestly didn’t think we’d ever get one, you know?”

Dean thinks over your answer for a moment. Realistically speaking, he didn’t think so either. However, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t played out the possibility in his mind more times than he can count.

All that preparation for such an unlikely scenario got him nowhere in the end. He always thought he’d know exactly what to tell you when he’d see you again. But all those speeches and words feel useless now.

He raises his glass in your direction.

“Here’s to surprises, then,” Dean shrugs, the upwards twitch in the corner of his mouth belied by the strain of his jaw.

If you notice his tension, you do not comment on it. Instead, you reciprocate his gesture, your glass clinking gently against his.

Of course you notice. Of course he knows you do.

Just like he knows how aware you are of his eyes mimicking your wine.

The sweet liquid sticks to your lips just like his gaze does. As he watches the red stain your skin and tongue, he wishes he could do the same — leave traces of himself on you so he'll be with you forever, feel the warmth and the plush of you against him one more time.

What Dean doesn’t know is why you have to torture him like this.

It’s no longer his place to desire any of this, any of you. But how can he not crave your sweet taste?

Yet he’s forced to settle for the smooth burn of his drink, which might be honey in color, but can’t compare to the sweetness of your essence.

Fucking hell, he needs to snap out of it.

“You really tried using that line on her, huh?” Your voice is barely audible, but with the world zeroed in on just you two, he cannot possibly miss your quiet utterance.

For a moment he thinks the alcohol is getting to him at last, dulling his senses once and for all — because there’s no way you’re actually bothered by this, is there? Yet you sit there, shoulders slightly slumped, eyes cast down as you stare into the crimson in front of you.

“What?”

You blink up at him, then at your glass again. “The whole strong whiskey thing. You know— nevermind, it’s whatever. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

While Dean’s definitely tipsy enough for the world around him to move a beat slower than usual, he picks up on your intention to leave faster than you can turn around. You hop off your chair and mumble a half-assed “Good night, Dean” and the déjà-vu hits him like a truck.

Another unsatisfying farewell.

Another missed chance.

He can’t bear to watch you leave again.

Instinctively, Dean’s hand reaches for yours. His last self-restraint stops him from grabbing you roughly. Instead, his fingers are ghosting around your wrist, not even touching, just lingering.

“Hold up,” he mutters lamely, to at least say something. Anything. “At least finish your wine, hm? You put it on my tab, after all.”

You do not hide the surprise in your eyes, clearly shocked that he’d want your company after everything you’ve made him go through. You look at him as though you’re asking if he’s sure about this.

“Dean, I—”

“Please.”

You bite your lower lip and reluctantly slip back into your original position. You hold onto the stem of your glass again, though you do not take a sip. It’s almost as if you’re afraid this will all end too soon, if you finish your drink.

“Guess it was sorta like a spell,” Dean hums.

His demeanor is more relaxed right away. The second he’s sure you’ll stay for a bit longer, the crease between his brows disappears and his voice is more steady. As steady as it can be with the liquor adding a natural rasp to his throat.

“A spell?” You echo, wide doe eyes looking at him with wonder.

“Technically, I never said it without you around,” he quips, “If I knew that’s how to summon you, I would’ve tried it much sooner.”

You pause, then you snort. He’s unbelievable, always turning his words into a playful flirtation, always trying to smooth-talk you into a giggle. Successfully so.

Dean drinks in the sound and sight of your joy, comitting it to his memory. Just in case he won’t get the luxury of repeating it.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” you chuckle.

“Maybe not,” he smiles weakly.

Definitely not.

In fact, he’s so caught up in your guys’ past that you could probably ridicule him for it. It’s pathetic, honestly, how he hasn’t been able to move on. Searching for a glimpse of what used to be in the bottom of a bottle, in same old places such as this one, only to distract himself and pretend anything can come close.

Dean’s quick to order another round of drinks for both of you.

Not long after, another round follows.

The drinks keep flowing. As does the conversation, surprisingly. It’s comforting, being able to talk to you after all this time. You don’t reminisce old days, you treat him like he’s not a wreck.

The alcohol loosens your tongues, though he’s ahead of you by far.

In the end, you shake your head towards the bartender and mumble something about how Dean’s had enough. His brows furrow together in protest, but he can’t bring himself to complain. Not when your hands, delicate against his shoulder, urge him to stand up.

Dean only staggers slightly and fishes for his wallet, before he pays for the drinks, but he does subconsciously lean against your supporting touch. The leather of his jacket crinkles under your fingertips as you struggle to hold him upright.

“Alright, cowboy,” you sigh and loop your arm around his back instead. His ends up around your shoulder and he can’t help but notice how natural the proximity feels. Like your bodies were molded for each other.

“I can walk b’myself, sweetheart,” he huffs, drawing another of those addictive chuckles from you.

“You’re gonna tell me you’ll drive like this, too?” Your voice isn’t condescending, but he doesn’t miss the half-scolding, half-teasing edge within. “Where’re Sam and you staying at?”

His eyes narrow and you can see the wheels turning behind his glassy eyes.

He doesn’t remember the name of the motel, does he?

You contemplate on whether or not you should call his brother, but something’s telling you Dean won’t be able to stay awake until Sam’s able to pick him up. He’s already babbling unintelligble nonsense, his weight heavier and heavier on you as his form slumps.

“Okay, big boy, let’s just find you a place to crash,” you suggest, but Dean’s only response is a hum that you can neither identify as approving nor protesting.

You gently pat his back and attempt to nudge him into a more upwards stance. He remains clinging to you like velcro, but removes some of that crushing weight from your shoulder.

“Y’know,” he slurs, “I was hopin’ t’see y’again, but I was also so fuckin’ scared.”

Your cheeks warm at his drunk confession, but you don’t interrupt him. His steps are uncoordinated, but with your guidance, the two of you arrive at your place.

“Been missin’ you,” he mumbles and sighs, “’nd you’re still the only one makin’ me weak.”

“Pretty sure it’s actually the strong whiskey this time,” you laugh in response.

You lead him inside your apartment, where he immediately falls onto the couch. You would’ve offered him the guest room, but Dean’s already sinking into the cushions, eyes closed.

“Honey, nothin’, not even Tennessee Whiskey, can give me whiplash like you can,” Dean insists drowsily.

Words he’ll without a doubt regret, if he can remember them tomorrow.

Your heart flips thanks to his words, but you can’t help feeling like you don’t deserve them. Not after you’ve broken up with him in such cruel fashion, your last heated argument having caused you to walk away back then.

A decision you’ll always regret, one you can never forget — no matter the amount of whiskey or strawberry wine.

With a small sigh, you prepare a glass of water for him in the kitchen.

By the time you’re placing it, along with some painkillers, on the coffee table, Dean’s already fast asleep. At least that’s what the soft, but deep exhales, which border on snoring, make you believe. However, your assumption is proven wrong when you drape a blanket over him, only to find yourself pulled down by strong arms.

Dean’s hands glue themselves to the small of your back, holding you tightly against him.

In his half-asleep state, he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of you — sweeter than Strawberry Wine. His lips brush against your collarbone, tracing the warmth of your skin — smoother than Tennessee Whiskey.

Dean Winchester Taglist:

@ladysparkles78 @ariasong11 @winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126

@zepskies @calibootsgirl @hot-and-confused @spookyfunhottub @berryblues46

@midnight--raine @emmy21842 @whichwitchwanda @foxyjwls007 @emma1998sblog

@lyarr24 @charliesangel67 @spn-reader @whump-loverz @cassieriddle713

@ilovedeanwinchester4 @mccartneyqp

Put a green heart 💚 in the comments to be added to the Dean x Reader taglist. Please note: Ageless blogs/minors will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts!

[frownyalfred]

who in the justice league do you think given the chance, would flirt w alfred, either to fuck w batman or genuinely mean it.

Diana, 100%. The scenes in ZSJL with her and Alfred and the tea...I see the vision. She wouldn't do it to fuck with Bruce, I don't think she's that cruel. But I like to think they have witty banter and some charged energy between them not infrequently.

Who would do it to fuck with Bruce? Someone very, very stupid, I'll tell you that.

[banananutmuffin28]

hey i really like your

Writing and this is a request so can you do sae byeok and se-mi gf hcs 🤭 fem reader

A/N: UGHHH YESSS! I had such a fun time writing this! Warnings: Very suggestive at times.

HCs on Dating Sae-Byeok & Se-Mi

Sae-Byeok:

-Sae-Byeok is the kind of girlfriend who would love you silently.

-She's not keen on physical touch or affirming words, but instead chooses to show her devotion through her actions.

-Partially, this is because she has made enemies after betraying Deok-Su and doesn't want them to see you as another pawn to win over.

-But, her being outwardly affectionate--especially in public--just isn't in her nature.

-Of course, there are exceptions.

-Sometimes, if Sae-Byeok is feeling affection-starved, she'll silently scoop you up in her arms and pepper you with kisses.

-When you nuzzle closer and ask her what she's doing in between giggles, she'll simply shrug her shoulders and pull you closer to her chest.

-"I missed you."

-Of course, there are other times where she'll show affection while having more...nefarious reasons.

-If someone is trying to flirt with you?

-Trust that Sae-Byeok will be all up in their face.

-How dare they put their hands on her girlfriend?

-If they brush her off and continue their antics though, that's when she'll really get dangerous.

-In an instant, Sae-Byeok will push them off of you and plant a rough, bruising kiss on your lips.

-You're hers.

-(There is a 50/50 percent chance that she'll come home later than usual, covered in blood).

-Don't worry though, it isn't hers.

-But, fortunately for you, the way she shows you her love isn't usually so violent.

-Her love language is Acts of Service, after all. When you're with her, you'll be hard-pressed to ever have to go through anything hard all alone.

-Or ever accidentally neglect yourself again, for that matter.

-The second you come step through the doorway? Sae-Byeok will immediately give you water and demand you rest. When you're sick? You'll be on bedrest, being tended to a little Cheol dressed in a doctor's outfit while Sae-Byeok cooks you some chicken soup.

-If you're feeling particularly tired, it isn't uncommon for you to find yourself sitting on her lap while she massages your aching muscles.

-She's also a good listener, and if you're having a bad day she'll always be there to act as your rock.

-Quality time is another way Sae-Byeok shows how much she adores you.

-She'll partake in your dumb little hobbies, and watch your favorite movies with you.

-If the three of you are all free, Sae-Byeok will take you and Cheol to the park, letting him run around while she chats with you.

-On cold, rainy days where you're both trapped in bed, Sae-Byeok will silently wrap her arms around your waist and rest her forehead on your shoulder.

-She's always softer in these moments, and more than once has murmured about how much she fucking loves you as she plants kisses all over your cheeks and pulls you ever closer to her.

-As stoic as she is on the outside, she all but melts when she's around you.

-It's a stark contrast; One moment she's glaring at whatever idiot is blabbering her ear off, and the next she has a little smile on her face when you appear in her vision.

-Her gentleness partially appears during the times when you're intimate, as well.

-Sae-Byeok is always so focused on your needs, choosing to place your pleasure above her own.

-She makes it her life's mission to find out what truly makes you whimper and squirm.

-If you like it when she eats you out?

-Fuck, you'll be moaning against your seat every other day while your girlfriend is between your thighs, her face buried underneath your mound.

-If you cum before you're allowed to, she'll nip your inner thigh and plunge two more fingers into your aching cunt.

-If you want to cum so much then fine, she'll go even faster and become even more merciless.

-The sight of you gradually losing all sense of composure as she rubs your fingers over your poor, overstimulated clit alone is enough to drive her over the edge.

-If you beg her to stop, she'll only go even faster.

-After all, isn't this what you wanted?

-[Of course, if you call out your safeword she'll stop immediately and hop into the aftercare. Sae-Byeok never wants her love to suffer].

-Sometimes, Sae-Byeok will pull out her thick, curved strap and fuck it deep inside your abused cunt.

-You'll be bent over, slick trailing down your thighs as your walls stretch to try and take all of her cock.

-Oh, how she adores seeing you squirm.

-Of course, if you want to return the favor, Sae-Byeok is all too eager to oblige.

-Just as often, you might find yourself kneeling in front of your girlfriend's pussy, greedily lapping up her juices as she pulls on your hair.

-...Sometimes, you may even have a collar on your neck.

-You're her good little girl, aren't you?

-Everytime Sae-Byeok is done with you, you'll be utterly drenched in cum and be covered in hickeys.

-Not even wearing a turtleneck can cover them all.

Se-Mi:

-Oh boy, you are in for a wild ride.

-Se-Mi is somewhat of a wild card, and 25% of the time you may be dragged along to a random bar that piqued her interest.

-But...she still manages to make it fun.

-If you don't like to drink, she'll escort you onto the dance floor and spin you around, dancing manically.

-She doesn't give two fucks on what other people think of her; She's only here to have fun, not cater to a whole crowd of strangers.

-Se-Mi likes to unleash that chaotic side within you, and for you to live your life to its fullest.

-Of course, if you truly don't like to party, Se-Mi won't force you to go.

-As you're laying in bed, she'll periodically send you silly selfies of her antics to keep you updated.

-When Se-Mi comes home, she'll always bring a little trinket or snack for you to enjoy.

-She likes to think of it as a little token of her love for you.

-And, because she loves parties so much, be prepared for her to go all out on your birthday.

-Gifts, cake, champamgne, you name it!

-One time, you stepped through the doorway and was immediately greeted by confetti and the sight of your girlfriend holding a comedically giant sized teddybear.

-If you miss a relative or friend, then Se-Mi will jump through hoops to get you two to reunite on your birthday.

-Se-Mi will spare no cost to spoil you rotten.

-Of course, Se-Mi can also be quiet when you need her to.

-Sometimes, she'll go on silent walks with you before the sunset, so that the two of you can bask under the last bits of the sun's warmth.

-Other times, Se-Mi will sit with you amongst the grass, intertwining your hands as she stares at the birds.

-Unlike Sae-Byeok, one of Se-Mi's love language is absolutely physical touch.

-She'll always be touching you, whether that be caressing your cheek or squishing your breasts.

-When you're binging movies on a lazy afternoon, Se-Mi will crawl on top of you to rest her head on your chest.

-During dates, Se-Mi isn't shy to kiss you.

-More often than not, her hand was probably discretely exploring your thigh, anyways.

-She likes to cup your face in her palms while her tongue prods against the entrance of your mouth.

-It signifies to Se-Mi that you're hers.

-Oh, and did I mention that she has a crazy sex drive?

-You can't really blame her; She thinks you're too fucking hot for your own good.

-When you're at home, Se-Mi will pin you to the wall, whispering filthy nothings into your ear as her hand tears away your skirt.

-It's not that you'll be needing it, anyway.

-Se-Mi is definitely a mean top.

-On a normal day, she'll be edging you for hours on end, drinking in your pretty moans like her life depended on it.

-Oh, but if you're bratty?

-Fuck, you'll be bent over her knee as she slaps your ass. Se-Mi will teasingly slide her finger over your wet hole, but won't go any further until she makes you apologize.

"Mhmm, Se-Mi, please!"

"Not now, sweetheart. Wouldn't it be too unfair for me to touch you now? It's not like a little brat like you deserves it."

-Se-Mi loves fucking you silly.

-She wants you to be her dumb little bitch who only can focus on her fingers in your cunt and begs for more.

-Thoughts? What are those? The only thing that should be on your mind is her.

-If you're up for it, she'll bring out the ropes and tie you onto the bed, keeping your legs spread for her.

-A gag will be stuffed into your mouth and your hands will be cuffed, but Se-Mi won't blind you.

-Oh, why would she? Se-Mi likes to fuck you hard enough to make you cry.

-Unless you withdraw your consent, Se-Mi won't stop until sunrise.

[viperify]

Drabbles | ᴛʜᴇᴏ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ೃ༄Little Tease.

Short summary: teasing Theo in public will get you nowhere.

Warnings: 18+ only! rough oral m!receiving, slight degradation, jealous!Theo

A/N: just throwing this out here. First time writing for Theo, be nice, thanks.

wordcount: 0,5k

“Yeah, ‘s too much? Can’t breathe? Too fuckin’ bad, amore.” Theo mocks, fingers tangled in your hair as he pushes you down on his hard length, your nose flush against his lower abdomen.

What he is giving you is messy and rough, a not-so-gentle reminder on why you shouldn’t tease your boyfriend, especially not when you are out together with Mattheo.

You are well aware Theo’s got a thing for oral and you had used it against him today. Licking on your ice cream almost seductively, you kept eye contact with your boyfriend, watching him as his expression changed.

By the time you were done, the brunette was blatantly staring you down. Theo soon got up, excusing you two before he grabbed your wrist, dragging you with him. He didn’t speak to you the entire way back to his dorm, even when you tried getting yourself out of trouble—something that wasn’t possible either way once you had pissed him off.

That is also how you ended up in this situation—his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, a mix of low groans, coughing and gagging sounds echoing around the walls of his dorm. “Fuck— open up wider f’me. Gotta feel all of you,” he says, and you obey best you can, relaxing as you let him slip even deeper.

A tear rolls down your cheek at the intensity of his thrusts, mixing with the saliva that has gathered on your chin, dripping down onto your white blouse. This doesn’t go unnoticed with Theo, who pulls out of you, grinning as his gaze lowers to the now more or less see-through fabric. “Dirty girl. Look at the mess you are making of yourself.” 

“Y-Mmph” is the only thing you manage to get out before he is back inside of you, shoving his thick length in and out of your mouth.

You look up at him through your lashes with teary eyes, though even with a blurred vision you can make out his slightly drawn-together eyebrows, lips slightly agape as his chest rises and falls. You feel his cock twitch just slightly, sensing he is closing in on his release.

“God— stay like this, let me have you,” Theo growls, his thrusts growing erratic, grip on your hair tightening as he leaves no room for protest from your side. “F-Fuck—“ his hips stutter, and with a low groan, he spills himself down your throat, letting you taste the familiar saltiness of his cum.

“Take it and swallow. All of it, bambina.” The brunette instructs, slowly pulling out of you. You do as he says, all while maintaining eye contact, sticking out your tongue afterwards. Without him having to ask you, you wrap your lips around his still half-erect length, cleaning him off. 

His palm wipes over your tear-soaked cheeks then, and he helps you back on your feet. “Never do that again, you understand?”

A subtle grin forms on your face, and you nod, knowing that next time would go just the same way.

[grudgecollector]

Afterglow | Nam-gyu / American!Reader

You're reading part one

Story Summary: Nam-gyu gets a new job and finds himself falling for the girl behind the deli counter. Words: 1.4k Tags/Warnings: Nam-gyu and Thanos have PTSD, canon divergence, Thanos lives, denial, mentions of death/blood/murder, angst, panic attacks, drug use, NOT PROOF READ A/N: This is SOOO self indulgent, like insanely self indulgent.

This is my first ever Squid Game fic. Will be multi-part story, I'm still a little rusty with my writing as I'm still getting back into it. So hopefully this is okay.

This may be a little OOC, but erm i do not care. He's my little meow meow

PART TWO | MASTERLIST

Two years... It's been two years and yet Nam-gyu’s hands still tremble so fiercely. His chest still felt tight with guilt, unable to look at his own reflection. He could barely stomach his food anymore, each meal mushy and tasteless. Nothing felt right, his shoes constantly felt like they were on the wrong feet, his hands never felt clean, and his mind felt like it was being torn to shreds. 

He felt fragile, ready to break at any point. 

Nam-gyu thought he was doing better, he thought that the memories finally subsided. The horrible things he had done as a way to survive were finally buried behind him. 

With each loud bang that echoed outside his apartment he could see them. The bodies, blood, the horrified looks in their eyes right before their lives were snuffed out.

He could remember the way his heart raced, pounding so fiercely against his ribcage, a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck.

He could still feel Se-mi’s blood on his hands, the warmth of it slipping between his fingers and under his nails. 

Tears clouded Nam-gyu’s vision, his head tilting back against the cold tile of the shower, hoping that the loud rush of water could block out the thundering sounds of fireworks outside. 

Every crackling pop made him jump, his blunt nails digging into the skin of his thighs. 

It was New Years in America, and yet Nam-gyu could not find it in himself to celebrate. 

“Fuck…” Nam-gyu whimpered, stifling a sob against the back of his hand. What had he done…

He had to do it… He had to do it… He had to do it… 

Nam-gyu closed his eyes, feeling that cold sweat rush back over him as the memory of Se-mi’s lifeless body flashed in his head. His trembling hands quickly shot up to his face, smacking against the sides of his head harshly. 

He wished so badly he could just erase those games from his mind, forget everything.

Anything… He would do anything…

“Nam-gyu! Hey man!” Su-bong slammed his hands on the closed door of the bathroom, making the man inside yelp loudly, “Stop hiding in the bathroom, come on let’s drink or something!” 

“Leave me alone…” Nam-gyu whispered, “Leave me alone…” He clenched his eyes shut, burying his head between his legs. 

“Nam-gyu!” 

There were suddenly hands on his shoulders.

Nam-gyu flinched, tears now flowing freely from his eyes as his head whipped up, for a split second he thought he saw pink and black. His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest, and he could barely move on his own volition thanks to how harshly his body shook. 

“Leave me alone!” His voice was broken up by sobs, eyes unable to focus. 

“Hey! Nam-gyu calm down, it’s just me!” Su-bong could feel his hair getting wet as he got closer to Nam-gyu, the spray from the shower pouring down on the both of them, “Come on man, you know where you are.” His hand smacked against Nam-gyu’s face lightly. 

“I can’t-” Nam-gyu’s hand went to his chest, the t-shirt he was wearing soaked all the way through, “I can’t…. Breathe. Fu… Fuck.” 

Su-bong stared at his best friend with wide eyes, “Alright buddy, I’m gonna need you to look at me.” 

Nam-gyu tried his best to focus, the flash of Su-bong's blue hair breaking through his spotty vision. 

Su-bong tried his best to help him, guiding his breathing, and whatever other methods that were listed out in those videos he watched months ago. He made sure that Nam-gyu followed his instructions, watching as his shoulders started to relax, his chest finally rising and falling at a normal rate. 

Nam-gyu was still shaking, but Su-bong already had a plan to help calm him down. 

~~~

He was finally able to drag Nam-gyu from the bathroom after twenty minutes, forcing him to change out of his soaked clothes. Pushing him into his room before closing the door.

Su-bong busied himself with rolling another blunt while he waited for his friend.

After a minute or two of staring at himself in the mirror, Nam-gyu came out of his bedroom in just an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants. A bright pink vape was in his right hand, and a throw blanket was slung over his left shoulder. 

“It’s about time.” Su-bong sighed, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “Sit. I rolled you one too.” He placed the blunt between his own lips and lit it. 

Nam-gyu brushed a strand of wet hair behind his ear, throwing his blanket down on Su-bong’s legs before sitting on the opposite side of the couch, feeling his friend's foot tap against his thigh. 

“You good, man?” 

“You always roll so badly.” Nam-gyu commented as he reached over for the blunt left on the coffee table. 

“Just smoke it, Nam-su.” Su-bong chuckled, kicking a foot against Nam-gyu’s thigh. 

Nam-gyu glared at him harshly, earning a louder laugh from his friend. 

“I’m just fucking with you, bro.” 

The next hour passed by quickly, Nam-gyu’s hands finally stopped shaking and he felt much more relaxed. His heart finally stopped beating so harshly, his body barely reacting to the fireworks outside now. 

He sank down on the couch, his back practically laying down on the cushions and his knees knocking against the coffee table. He brought a hand up to brush his long hair from his eyes, looking to the side to find Su-bong scrolling through TikTok. 

“Ever hear back from that job you applied for?” Su-bong asked suddenly, glancing up from his phone. 

“Huh?” Nam-gyu blinked, “Oh yeah… Uh I should be starting in a few days.” 

Su-bong hummed, nodding to himself before looking back down at his phone. 

~~~

The morning air nipped against your skin as you opened your car door, the hinges groaning in protest. Fog covered most of the parking lot, the sun trying its best to break through the clouds above your head, wind blew the leaves from underneath your car just as you shut the door. 

A sigh fell from your lips, you were so tired. 

“Good morning.” You smiled at one of your co-workers that stood behind the counter, an excited squeal came from her as she looked up. 

“Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to get here.” 

You chuckled quietly, finger gently tapping against the energy drink you were holding, hoping it’ll carry you through the next eight hours quickly. I should have gone to bed earlier last night.

Danny put down the paper she was holding once you rounded the corner, a smile curved her lips as she dug through the pocket of her vest. She pulled out a baggie with two small brownies in it. 

“I made them last night and thought you might wanna try.” She giggled quietly, walking back over to the cake she was working on, “I wouldn’t recommend taking the whole thing though, they’re strong.” 

“Shiiit, thanks Danny.” You smiled, pushing the swinging door to the back kitchen open. “Morning Mrs. Carrie.” 

One of your older coworkers turned away from the donuts she was icing, “Morning.” 

In your department it was pretty easy to get closer to your co-workers. You were all forced to work so closely together, especially in the deli, two to four people stuck behind a counter for eight hours at the same time.

There was a bond amongst the decently sized group you had, a bond that would sometimes sour with short lived drama that you had no interest being dragged into. 

You fished the hairnet out of your pocket, and grabbed an apron from the basket by the door. 

“Good morning.” Your co-worker Alice smiled as you walked closer to her, tying the apron around your waist. 

“Morning.” 

You checked the tablet, making sure that there weren’t any orders for the personal shoppers to pick up. 

The next few hours went by smoothly enough, thankfully it wasn’t too busy in the store. Making it a lot easier for you to cook everything you needed, make sure that the condiments beside the hot bar were filled, reducing stress for your coworker and you. 

“I’m going on my lunch.” You told Alice, taking your gloves off and throwing them away. 

“Alright, have fun.” She joked. 

You walked out from behind the counter, pulling your jacket closer around you before pulling your phone out and looking at the time. God you still had four more hours… 

~~~

Nam-gyu’s first day had gone somewhat smoothly, learning how to do everything was easy enough when he had someone helping him.

All he had to do was shop for other people’s groceries all day, what could be so hard about that?

It was a good way to keep his mind off things, an earbud hidden away by his hair to drown out any thoughts that could bother him as he worked. 

Finally break time was rolling around, and he trailed off from his department towards the deli. He wasn’t sure if he would even be able to eat, but he could at least try something.

Four more hours… Nam-gyu looked back up from his phone. Gasping softly when he runs into another person. They stumble back a little, and his phone drops on the ground. 

The person looks at him, hurried apologies flooding from both of their mouths as she tucks her phone back into her vest pocket. 

“I’m so sorry.” “I wasn’t paying attention.” “That was my fault.” 

Nam-gyu looked at her widened eyes, the apologetic expression forming into a small smile as they talked over each other. He couldn’t help but smile a little too, laughing quietly. 

[thehydraethereal]

all I see is 'red lights'

Ξ[summary] You are shown the effects of what happens if you cross your boyfriend's line.

Ξ[word count]: 1k (I'm shoked lol it's so short but long for me)

Ξ[warnings]: Not proofread. This work contains dark themes and elements such as abusive relationships; heavy violence and implied homicide; obsessive behavior, mental issues; abuse; mentions of abduction and drugging; and more. This is dark, so if these warnings trigger you, do not interact. MNDI, for your own safety. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Ξ[note] : Thank you for reading and reblogging. Visit my masterlist and check out my warnings. Asks and new requests are always appreciated. ughhh, this is...concerning. also, for my soulmate in the district of dark art @highonmarvel. დ and a lil' something to @stargirllanaa, if you want to read :((

“Pl-please…Rafe? Rafe, please, d-don’t l-leave me h-here-” you sobbed, struggling against your boyfriend’s rough hands that were trying to secure your wrists together. “Shut up! I need to think-” he hissed, tossing you on the iron floor of the ship. You knew the pogues had got on the boat and they were your only rescue before Rafe would get to take you to a foreign country where you won’t be able to leave him and no one will ever find you, but the problem was that Rafe knew that too. And he didn’t want his plan spoiled by his sister and her stupid “friends”. 

You cried harder when Rafe crouched down next to your shaky form and secured the scratchy rope with zip ties. His hair was falling into his eyes that were constantly darting from your wrists to your face. “Somebody help me-” you cried, your voice barely coming out audible from your aching throat, before Rafe slapped you hard across the face, your head meeting the wall of the tight room he was trying to put you in. “Can you just shut your fucking mouth or should I do it for you? Huh?,” Rafe growled, his heavy breath hitting your burning skin. You gave him a small nod before he got up, looking for something to use as a weapon against nothing else than his own sister and the other kids. “I-I’ll di-die down h-here, Rafe, I can’t…I can’t breathe-” you whispered, the hot and small place choking the hope out of you. Your ribs were met by the kick of his foot, and you bent your body even more to try to keep the pain out. “You should’ve thought about that before you decided to play the smart bitch, tryin’ to act like you could fuckin’ leave me.” Flashbacks of his hands dragging you by your hair to the car and drugging you with chloroform, all these just to get you on this boat made you nauseous all over again.

 When he finally found what he was looking for, he shot a last glance at your trembling form then he closed the door after him, leaving you in utter and complete darkness and pain.

The only thing that you could see was the constant flickering of a red light. You did not know what to do, you felt broken. But you had to try something, unless you wanted all your friends, the only people that really cared for you, dead at the hands of the man you alone decided to let in your life. You attempted to control your breathing and just focus.  Had Rafe locked the door? No, he didn't have a key, the ship was massive and there was no chance he had fully explored it. As you struggled to break free from the restraints, they were so tight that they caused your skin to tear.

Ignoring the pain, you searched with your fingertips for anything sharp that could help you escape. Your fingers came across a pointed object, causing an excited squeal to come past your lips. Sliding your wrists against the sharp edge, you eventually heard a slight noise and felt your hands become free.  Tears of relief welled up, ready to spill just as warm blood ran down your hands.

  As you stood up, your vision blurred from the sudden movement, almost causing you to fall again. Bracing yourself with your arms on the wall was efficient, and you managed to push the door open. You sobbed shakily, grateful for this little victory.

The happiness didn’t last because now you had to figure out a way to…find your friends, get off this fucking ship and make it out alive back to Kildare. 

Small droplets of sweat rolled down your forehead and you wiped your face with both of your hands, trying to smooth down your hair and keep it out of your eyes. You took a few small steps, looking around the unknown illuminated surroundings for any signs of Rafe or other men. 

A loud bang made you flinch so hard and you thought that, for a moment, your soul had leapt out of your body. Through the tears blurring your vision you saw your older brother, John B, on the dirty floor, coughing heavily and before you knew it, your terrified sight caught your boyfriend straddling him.

Rafe looked almost like a demon, his pupils so dilated his eyes were coal black, hair stuck to his wet face that was hit by the crimson lights, low growls erupting from his veiny neck. The gun in his hand was constantly hitting your brother’s face, slowly turning him into an unrecognisable bloodied creature.

You felt like your insides had been set on fire, and your feet carried you next to the two men. The tendons in your knees gave up on you, throwing you over your brother’s limp body. You did not care about Rafe anymore, you didn’t care if he’d kill you, you wanted to die right now. “Wh-what are you doing to me…?”, you whispered hoarsely, the pain becoming unbearable all of a sudden. Your ears stung, and your tears mixed with John B’s blood, dripping patiently on the iron floor. Your forehead fell on his chest, and his flimsy, yet comforting arm wrapped weakly around your lower back. Your fingers caressed his cheek, gathering the maroon liquid and tiny pieces of broken skin.

Then, Rafe’s agonizing grip fell on the back of your neck, pulling your sagging, delicate body up with his. If it weren’t for his thick bicep that had wrapped around your waist or his broad chest that was sustaining you from behind, you would have collapsed back, right next to your brother. “You are not leaving me.” Rafe snarled awfully calm in your ear, as if he didn’t just possibly murdered somebody. “Get that in your fuckin’ skull already.”

Your tears washed down the blood on your cheeks as you were being dragged further and further to the only one left in your family which was agonizingly consuming his last breaths and, as always, there was not a single thing you could do against Rafe Cameron. It always ended how he wanted.  

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ INSTAGRAM UPDATE ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── 250120: Sense Cover

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ luna's instagram

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lunabae wrapped in white with @/sensemagazinecoverstar 🤍

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lunalover Queen of beauty! How are you even real?!

moondancer99 Wrapped in white and wrapped around my heart 😍 absolutely stunning!

fashionisluna No one does fashion like Jiyeonie. The veil is giving bridal couture dreams 🤩🤩🤩

jeongna_child Luna in white??? Luna with a veil?!! JEONGHAN MUST BE SCREAMING RN.

↳ jeongnadaily she’s been rocking white A LOT lately 🤭

↳ jxjforever LET US NOT FORGET ABOUT THE VEIL?!? HELLO!!?

stellalight_ The veil, the pose, the glow! this is ICONIC. You’re a vision, Bae Jiyeon!

caratmoon13 Okay, but is this secretly a pre-wedding photoshoot?

↳ moonlightbae I personally don’t think it is because I don’t think they’ll marry until Han is done with his service AND I’m assuming… knowing Jiyeon, the actual pre-wedding photos will be a hundred times more better than this 👀

moonlit.soul This is a serve on another level! The veil is EVERYTHING.

jeonghanstan HERE COMES THE FUCKING BRIDE 🥹🩷🩷🩷

lunaticforreal I just KNOW Jeonghan is losing his mind over this because I know I am!!!

lunanova GORGEOUS GIRLLLLL 💖💖💖

svtqueen_ Girl, you’re out here dropping bridal hints like confetti, and we’re EATING IT UP.

etherealmoon_ This isn’t just fashion; this is ART. Luna, you’re an angel in disguise 💖

hanandluna_ We need Jeonghan’s reaction to this IMMEDIATELY. He’s the luckiest man alive 😫

softforluna BABE!! I AM ACTUALLY IN LOVE WITH YOU 😭🤍

↳ ashonashonash_ it’s actually unhealthy it’s not funny anymore 🥹

lunaticmoons STOP LUNA, THE VEIL??? YOU’RE ABOUT TO BREAK THE INTERNET AND OUR HEARTS.

jeonghaniyoo_n Angel in white. Next time, let me be the first to see it 🤍

↳ lunabae greedy…

↳ lunaticsquad SIR, WE GET IT.

↳ jeongnabiased You’re literally her fiancé. How greedy can you possibly get??

↳ lunahannie_ You’ve reached peak simp levels, and honestly, we respect it and we love to see it.

↳ marriedtogyu You’re already the luckiest man alive. Do you really need everything first?!

↳ moontastic_ Not Jeonghan gatekeeping his fiancée from the entire world 😂

↳ sebonguniv_ Jeonghan really out here reminding us that Luna is HIS and HIS only.

moonchild27 Wrapped in white and wrapped in Jeonghan’s love. I’m crying. You’re out of this world!

svtforever_17 How does one recover from this level of beauty? Asking for myself.

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