#my moms used to just be in the living room at all times when i was a kid so i would just roll around on that

[6qubed]

not to derail, but as a kid in elementary school with really bad ADHD (and my ADHD is still really bad at damn near forty, so picture that shit) I had a lot of trouble with other kids that involved the school calling my parents. well one day in particular I get home from school after my mom had been called in to pick me up, and my dad's sitting in the living room with a new Transformers toy; a big one, that like turns from a big 18-wheeler into two spaceships. anyway, he says that he had been planning on giving that to me as a gift that day, but since I got into Big Trouble it would basically be like rewarding that, and obviously that wasn't gonna happen.

so what he did instead was he sat it right on top of the freezer (we had a big standalone freezer in the kitchen that was fridge-shaped) but put it where I could see it and told me that if I wanted it, I'd have to stay out of trouble for three days in a row. he said that knowing full well that I was young enough that three days was Basically Forever™, and the real punishment was that it took me closer to three weeks to finally get that particular slot machine to come up all cherries and I was seeing the prize I wasn't winning because I couldn't behave every breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I'd like to think I was better behaved past that point but that could just be revisionism on my part.

less dramatically, I used to be a picky eater as a kid (and I'm still picky, so you can etc etc) so what my parents did eventually was institute "The Two-Bite Rule". the rule was that if I didn't like the look of something, I didn't have to eat it. BUT. before I gave it the final thumbs-down I had to try at least two bites of it. I had to give it two proper fork-fulls to properly form an opinion on it. and while most of the time stuff wasn't my new favorite thing and was just Basically Okay™, they weren't the horrible sewage-tasting thing that dumb little me had built them up to be in my head. plus when I got older, I was able to adapt this into "The Two-Song Rule" for when I was buying new music CDs

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[lipglossanon]

Until the End

Real son!Leon S. Kennedy x real mom!reader (one shot)

Warnings: incest, dead dove, mom/son, simp Leon, cnc (reader’s “not” into it at first 😉), kissing, dirty talk, teasing, oral (f receiving), just the tip 😩, unprotected sex, creampie, mommy kink to the extreme

not proofread ✍️ it’s been a while since I’ve worked on anything so hopefully this doesn’t suck lmao the ending is just kinda meh

shoutout to the discord; I posted some of this WIP and they gave me the inspo to finish 🤭

title from the Breaking Benjamin song

It’s a quiet affair when you sign the divorce papers. Your husband—of twenty four years—deciding that he’d rather live overseas with his secretary instead of sticking it out; it’s not something you would have foreseen, but as they say hindsight’s always 20/20. It upset you at first but once the indignation died down, you realize you feel more relief than anything. Things have been strained for years and then in the last five, he’s barely been home long enough to chat about your days. 

The one who took it the hardest out of anyone is Leon. Your husband offered him a place to stay, but he chose to live with you (being a mama’s boy through and through). After his father left, Leon angrily refused to speak with him anymore and instead focused on his work and trying to pick up any slack around the house. Not that you hadn’t already been doing that for years, but it’s sweet of him to want to take care of you. 

He dotes on you now, making sure you’re eating and drinking and taking care of yourself. His friends tease him about it or rib him about having a milf (which you had the unfortunate chance to overhear as you walked into the living room). Meeting Leon’s mortified gaze, you smile tightly and walk through to the kitchen. He kicks them out and apologizes profusely to you, face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as he murmurs how sorry he is and promises it won’t happen again. 

Things go back to normal for a while. The absence of your husband is something you don’t even notice anymore. Leon is more than capable of moving out and living on his own, but he says it’s closer to work and easier to keep an eye on you if he lives at home. Besides, he told you with a serious face, he doesn’t have a girlfriend to make things awkward so for now you just need to chill out and let him take care of things. 

He gets a promotion at work, no longer relegated to being just a traffic cop, and you couldn’t be more proud! Your offer to take him out to a nice dinner gets turned down; in its place is an evening of take out and drinking. Since it’s the weekend, neither of you are worried about being hungover the next day, so you both end up drinking more than you usually would. 

Later, Leon walks with you from the dining room to the living room, each of you laughing at some silly joke that you can’t even remember. 

Settling together on the couch, he tucks into your side, face nuzzling against your neck like he used to do as a little boy. You giggle and run your hand through his hair. 

“You’re so sweet, Leon,” you murmur, “but aren’t you a little too old to be cuddling your mom?”

“Uh uh,” he whines, making you laugh harder, “always need you, mama.”

“Okay, okay,” you pat his head, slumping further into the couch, the alcohol buzzing through your veins, “my little boy’s all grown up.”

Feeling maudlin now at remembering that the passage of time waits for no one, you sniffle and it draws Leon’s attention.  

“What’s a’matter?” He mumbles, hazy blue eyes sharpening to see your tears, “mom?”

You smile and cup his cheek. Neither of you have shied away from physical affection; however, you remember on more than one occasion you thought Leon went overboard with cuddling and snuggling with you. Now that seems like a silly thought, he just missed you during his long hours on duty. 

“Nothing, just so proud of you,” you smile, dropping your hand to rub his shoulder. 

He kisses your cheek and you coo softly. Moving closer, he lands another soft kiss to the corner of your lips. Blaming it on the alcohol, a warm thrum of heat sings through your stomach. 

“Mama,” he whimpers, lips clumsily landing on yours. 

You freeze, body heavy and thoughts slow. Leon presses his mouth more firmly against yours and you gasp, lips parting under his and he eagerly kisses you harder. Whining, you try to tug your head away but he follows you, kisses becoming rougher while pressing you deeper against the couch. 

Your hands come up and tangle in his hair, but instead of pulling him back they scrape against his scalp, making him groan deliciously. He shifts, pulling away to tilt his head at a better angle before pressing another hot kiss against your lips. You sink into it, clit pulsing in arousal, mouth tingling from each sloppy kiss from your son.

Finally, you twist away, panting heavily while Leon rests his forehead against your jaw. 

“Mama, why’d you stop?” He presses a soft kiss under your ear, making you shiver.

“Leon, this—this isn’t right,” you plead, eyelashes fluttering as he nips and sucks your neck.

“Just this once,” he murmurs, lips dragging against your skin and sending chills down your body. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you, mommy.”

His words and actions are muddling your mind… and you’ve been lonely for so long. Swallowing, you breath out a shaky breath, mind made up.

“O-okay,” your body feels hot, muttering that out loud.

Moaning, he bites your jaw then kisses your cheek. “Thank you.”

He shows his appreciation by kissing the breath from your lungs; your son’s excitement ramps up your own, cunt pulsing with need as slick fills your panties. Wet, drugging kisses pass between you until you completely lose yourself to the feeling, making out with Leon until your lips are swollen. 

You jump, feeling his fingers trail along your thigh, slipping under your skirt and brushing against your panties.

“God, you’re so wet. Wanna bury my face in your pussy.”

You moan, and he teases your cunt through the soppy fabric.

“You can’t,” your hips grind down into his hand.

“Okay, promise I’ll behave,” he chuckles.

Without another word, he flips your skirt up and slips your panties down your legs to bunch at your ankles.

“Oh mommy,” he moans, fingers tracing your slit up and down before circling your clit, “your pussy’s so soft. Fuck me.”

Your hips buck and he bites his bottom lip, fingers rubbing up and down your pussy lips. 

“So, so soft,” he whispers, eyes glued to where his fingers are touching, “my stubble’s gonna feel so rough when I kiss her, mama.”

You whine high and reedy but shake your head, “No, no, this is all I’m allowing, Leon. You promised.”

“Just a kiss or two,” he murmurs, voice low and smoky, “she needs it, look how soft and sweet she is, just begging for my mouth. C’mon, mama, just let me have a couple of kisses.”

Your resolve cracks at his pleading. 

“Just a couple, then we stop,” you try to sound firm but your voice comes out breathier than you’d like. 

“Mmhmm, thank you, mama,” he kisses the side of your cheek then the corner of your lips.

You feel a little disappointed that he stops to kneel between your legs. He brings his hands up to spread apart your cunt, slick dripping from your hole as his mouth hovers over your mound. 

“Oh fuck, mom,” Leon whines, tongue lapping at your clit, “so fucking wet. Am I making you this wet? God, your pussy’s so fucking sexy.”

Another groan and he’s fluttering his tongue across your pudgy bud before sucking it gently into his mouth. He pulls back and kisses the hood of your clit. You moan softly and cant your hips up. 

“W-we shouldn’t, baby,” you plead, fingers tangling in his hair again, but not pushing him away. 

“Been wanting to do this forever, dreaming about how I wanna lick your pretty pussy til you cream all over my face,” he pants, dilated eyes watching your face, “gonna make you cum over and over tonight.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he thrusts his tongue into your pussy, walls clamping around the slippery muscle, “Leon! 

He hums and grinds his nose against your clit as his tongue fucks in and out of your hole, spit dripping down your ass onto the couch cushions. Your eyes flutter as your orgasm winds tight in your abdomen. 

“Need to eat you out everyday, mama,” he pulls back, slick shining across his lips and chin, “treat this pussy like she deserves. Don’t you wanna feel good?”

He sucks your clit back into his mouth, hot tongue flicking against the sensitive bud. It only takes a few more teasing licks before your climax breaks over your body like a tidal wave. Toes curling, your hands tug on his hair making him moan, tonguing at your fluttering cunt until he finally pulls away with one last sucking kiss. 

He crowds you on the couch, thick forearms hooking under your knees to keep you spread open. He nods down to his jeans; your eyes flit from his face to the bulge pressing obscenely against his zipper. 

“Pull it out,” he murmurs, blue eyes nearly black. “Take my cock out so I can stuff your cunt, mommy.”

Shaking your head, your voice cracks, “No, baby. That’s going too far.”

He whines, “But it hurts, mama. You’re being so mean. At least jerk me off.”

Biting your lip, his pouty mouth has you reaching forward, undoing his pants and tugging them down his thighs. You gently ease his dick from his briefs, uncut head sticky with precum. You both moan when you grip his stiff cock, the blood hot skin against your palm turning you on more than you ever thought. Thumb pressing against the slit, you smear the pearlescent sheen across his tip until he’s whimpering. 

“Mommy,” his hips thrust forward, “it’s sensitive.” 

He sags forward, and your legs slide up his arms until your calves press against his biceps. This new position has his dick grinding against your swollen cunt, the head grazing across your pudgy clit. Your fingers loosely circle the base of his cock, the backs of your knuckles brushing against his balls. 

“So good, fuck,” he chokes out, humping your pussy. “Just let me cum like this, let me mark you up, mama. Yeah, just coat this sexy fucking pussy with my cum.”

Keening, you let go of his cock to feather your fingers against his heavy balls. “You can, you can cum all over me.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, pink lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as he watches his cock slip between your pussy lips to rub against your hole. “Mommy, just let me put the tip in, please? Promise it’ll just be the tip. Please.”

You know you should say no, but then again you should’ve put a stop to this before it even started. Just the tip wouldn’t be so bad, you think, eyes greedily taking in his fat, drippy tip. It wouldn’t hurt to let him try it out.

“Just the tip, Leon,” you murmur, flicking up to meet his blown out gaze. “But only this once.”

“Thank you,” he groans, “love you so much, mama.”

Moving one hand from his hold on your leg, he grips his cock and guides the head to your clenching hole. His thumb presses down on the head as he rocks forward, slipping the tip into your wet cunt. You suck in a deep breath at the same time he grunts. The other hand gripping your thigh tightens, fingertips tightly digging into the soft skin. 

Leon blows out a breath, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “You feel so good.”

He ruts the head of his cock in and out of your pussy, the wet schlick loud in the otherwise quiet living room. Your hands move over your head to drape over the back of the couch, fingers grasping at the cushions. 

“Can I—,” he cuts himself off, eyes squeezing shut. “Can I go a little deeper, mommy?”

Your slick hole clenches down on him and he whimpers. 

“H-how much deeper?” You hear yourself say, mouth running away from you. 

“Just an inch or two,” he gasps, feeling overwhelmed by the heat of your cunt. “Pretty please, mommy.”

You nod, eyes unable to look away from where he’s splitting you open, dick driving deeper and deeper—going so much farther than a few inches—into your pussy until he’s completely buried in your pulsing walls. 

“Leon!” You cry out, head falling back as your cunt stretches around the fat girth of his cock.

“Sorry, mama,” he practically slurs, pussy drunk already. “Didn’t mean to, it just slipped.”

You whimper at the pleasure pain of his tip kissing your cervix as he grinds himself against your cunt. Clit rubbing against his pelvis makes you squeeze and clench around his dick, in turn making him groan from deep in his chest. He barely pulls out before fucking back into your sopping wet hole. 

“So perfect,” his face pinches in pleasure. “God, mom, your pussy—gonna make me cum so fast.”

You dig your hands into the couch and roll your hips down into his thrusts, “You need to pull out, baby. It’s bad to cum inside. You’ve gotta pull out of mommy’s cunt.”

He makes a broken sound from the back of his throat and drives his cock into you with harsh, pounding thrusts. 

“No, I’m gonna cum in you, make you nice and full,” he bites out, sweat dripping from the straight line of his nose onto you. “Stuff you so full, mama.”

You can’t hide how his words make your pussy clamp down on his cock, his own hips stuttering as your cunt tries to milk his cock. 

“Yeah, mommy, squeezing me so good, so fucking good,” he pants. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

He reaches down, hot palm a brand across your mound as his thumb teases your clit. You thrash against him, but it’s no use as he strums your swollen bud in rough little circles that makes your thighs tremble. 

“Leon,” you moan, a second orgasm quickly building in your core. “Oh god, I’m so close.”

He doesn’t stop the frantic pumping of his hips, fucking his cock into your squelching heat while he rubs your clit—his blue eyes jumping between your face and your pussy. Mouth dropping open, he groans, mumbling praises and promises under his breath. Pinching your clit between the knuckles of his first and middle finger, he gives pulsing squeezes to the sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re cumming loudly. 

Your back bows, fireworks going off in your brain, dimly realizing that Leon’s gripping your hips as he wildly fucks your cunt. 

“Fuck, fuck, mom,” he chokes on the word, burying himself balls deep in your soft, wet walls and spilling his thick cum as deep as possible. 

You whimper, squeezing down on him as the hot splash of his spend fills your cunt. He eventually stills, hips still snugly pressed against you as close as possible. Slick and jizz begin to slowly leak out from around his softening cock. He hisses when he pulls out, then immediately whimpers, fingers playing with his cum dripping from your hole.

“Leon, stop, it’s sensitive,” you gasp, eyes slipping closed when his fingers slide up to rub across your fat clit. 

“Sorry, mama,” he pulls back only to drop to his knees, eyes dark, mouth hovering tantalizingly close to your sloppy cunt. “Let me kiss it better.”

[fawnhart]

sugar and rafes first time meeting ! ㅤ⭑๋ ࣭

You remember the moment your whole life started to crumble. It was a Tuesday, you think. Maybe a Wednesday? Doesn’t really matter. The days just blur together when you’re stuck in a house where you’re not allowed to live

You were listening to Jeff Buckley. You had it on repeat for weeks now, hiding it under a loose plank in the floorboards of your room. Your parents would never allow it. Not in a million years. Especially your mom. She’d explode if she ever found out. Everything was so god damn evil to her

But that day you thought you had time. She was supposed to be gone for at least another hour. It was Wednesday. Church group meetings. It was always a Wednesday.

You slipped the CD into your player old and busted up, the kind with the cassette tape thing but with a CD attachment, so it wasn’t completely outdated. You sat on your bed, staring out at the little slice of sky visible through your window, not really thinking about anything in particular just thinking. Then you heard the door downstairs.

“What the hell is that noise?”

You froze. Your heart dropped into your stomach. You thought your mom wouldn’t be home yet. You’d been so sure. You asked Mrs. Maggie to 1000% sure. But she was early. You scrambled to hit stop, but the music kept playing. Her voice, firm and pissed, was coming closer.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Your pulse raced. You shoved the player under your pillow just as she stormed into the room, her eyes narrowing. She was already clutching that look the one that meant something bad was about to happen.

“What did I tell you about this?” Her voice was tight and screechy.

“I wasn’t doing nothin’” you said, your voice shaky. You didn’t even believe yourself. You knew exactly why she was upset. But you had to try. You had to try to be normal for once, even if it was just for a few minutes in your own room.

“Nothing?” Her lip curled, disgust in every word. “Baby, you think you can just fill ya’ head with that filth and call it ‘nothin’?’”

You bit your lip, holding back tears. She stepped forward, pointing at the CD player under your pillow.

“This is demonic! I knew it. You’ve been listening to the devil behind my back. It’s not enough that you’re dressing like... like one of those whores at school. But now you want to be dirty on the inside, too?”

Your throat felt tight, like you couldn’t breathe. Your mind was racing. What were you supposed to say?

“You’re going to ruin everything I’ve worked for. Everything your father and I have taught you,” she hissed, her eyes wild with something you didn’t recognize. It wasn’t love, not even close.

“it’s just music,” you whispered, too quietly, but she heard you.

She grabbed the player from your bed and yanked the CD out.

“It’s. not. just. music,” she said, her voice cracking. “It’s a gateway. It’s corruption to the brain.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell her that all you wanted was to be normal, to have what everyone else had. a life outside of this house, outside of her rules. But the words never came.

She was moving now, pulling open drawers, emptying them onto the floor.

“all that filth you’ve been hiding from me and I’ve been lenient on is done for. I’m taking it all.”

She tossed your music cds, your makeup, your books. Everything you’d spent months gathering, everything you’d used to try to feel like you were an ordinary girl, was being thrown away.

And then, the worst part.

“Your father won’t stand for this. We’ll have you cleansed”

You faltered. Cleansed? It was such a cold, clinical word. But you knew what it meant. The prayers. The rituals. You couldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t live through that.

Your eyes were filling with tears, your chest tightening.

“I’m sorry!, I didn’t mean to. I won’t listen to that again, okay? I swear,” you pleaded, though you knew it didn’t matter.

But it was too late, she was already at the door

“You know honey, my church group has been just how ungodly you’ve been acting, but I didn’t believe them….. I hate that you proved them right”

locking it behind her with that final click that meant you were trapped.

You pressed your back against the door, the tears finally spilling over. You couldn’t think straight. Your whole body was shaking, your mind was screaming. I need to get out of here.

You knew what you had to do.

You waited for what felt like hours, listening to the muffled sounds of your mom in the kitchen. The smell of dinner wafted under the door, and all you could think about was how your entire life had been planned for you. You were supposed to be a good girl. A good Christian girl. But you weren’t. And you were never going to be.

Finally, when you thought your heart couldn’t take any more, you got up. You grabbed the little bag you’d hidden in the closet. Nothing but a few clothes, and the money you’d saved up from waitressing at ‘sticky’s’. Quietly, carefully, you pulled out the plank in the floor, grabbed the rest of your hidden things, and shoved them into your bag. You didn’t think twice.

You climbed out the window, holding your breath, praying that she wouldn’t hear you.

Once you were outside, you took off running.

You didn’t know where you were going, but it didn’t matter. You had to get out.

You ran for what felt like forever. The night was cold, but you didn’t care. It was better than being to the place you once called home.

You didn’t notice him at first.

You glanced around realizing you were for sure not on the cut anymore, the big tall houses made it clear to you were on figure eight now.

then you saw him

Rafe Cameron.

You’d seen him around, of course. He was one of the rich kids, always walking around with that stupid confident smile, like he owned the whole island. You’d never paid him any attention. You had enough of your own problems to deal with. But when you saw him standing at the end of the street, leaning against his car smoking god knows what, you froze.

You’ve heard the stories about Rafe Cameron. He’s the kind of guy everyone talks about but no one truly understands.

He’s always been a mystery, and he still is. But there’s something about him, something that draws you in, even though you know you probably shouldn’t get too close.

You never really expected to see him again, not after the way he disappeared seven years ago.

Rafe left figure eight right after that night, the night he ended up in jail. No one knows exactly what happened, but everyone has their theories.

Some say it was a huge mistake, some say it was just a matter of time, others say ward himself drove his only son out of town. But whatever it was, it was enough to make him walk away from everything. His family, his life there, his whole world.

He packed up and drove five hours away, living on his own, far from the memories and the mess the pouges he hated had caused.

In the time since, he’s built himself up. People talk about how he’s thriving now, working as a firefighter or something like that. Hard work, steady pay, and no one really bothers him anymore.

It’s like he’s trying to rebuild his life, piece by piece. But even though he’s been gone for so long, when he talks about his baby sister wheezie, there’s this soft, almost protective vibe about him

Now, he’s back in town, just for her birthday. It’s strange seeing him like this, but there’s something different about him. He’s older, quieter, and maybe even a little lost in his own way.

He was looking straight at you, his brow furrowed, like he knew something was wrong.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice muffled by his blunt but clear in the quiet night air.

You stopped in your tracks.

“Are you alright?” he asked, taking a step toward you.

You didn’t know what to say. Of course you weren’t alright!. You were running away from your own life, from your own mother. But you didn’t know how to tell him that.

“I... I’m fine,” you said, but even to your own ears, it sounded like a lie.

He took another step forward, still studying you with those eyes that seemed too kind for someone like him.

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice softer now. “You look rough.”

Your breath hitched. ‘Gee thanks’ Yeah, you looked rough. You had been rough for years. But hearing it from someone else...it hit different.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know him. But you also didn’t know anyone who would help you, not like this. So you warily followed him

You stared at him, confused, trying to figure out if he was serious or playing some sick joke on you.

Then it hit you. He was talking to you like you weren’t just the religious girl with the crazy parents. He wasn’t weirded. He wasn’t judging you.

The last time someone came up to you, the whole town heard about it. Your parents tried getting them expelled from school for harassing you.

That was the last time anyone ever talked to you

“I know you know Wheezie,” he said, a little chuckle in his voice as he opened the door. “you can’t be all bad, right?”

Wheezie? then it clicked, the girl with glasses who could down 6 cherry milkshakes in a row, nice.

“Come on,” he said, the smile slipping from his face for a second, a real one this time. “Let me help you.”

You didn’t know if you were ready for help, but you were so damn tired. Tired of pretending everything was okay. Tired of running. Tired of fighting your own heart every damn day.

You took a deep breath and took up his offer.

He didn’t even look like the guy everyone made him out to be. Sure, he still had that wild, unpredictable look to him, but he wasn’t hostile. He just… asked if you needed help. Simple as that.

You didn’t know what else to say. You didn’t know where else to go.

He didn’t press you with questions. He just turned on the engine, his eyes flicking over you like he was checking to see if you were really serious about getting in.

"You're Wheezie's friend, right?" he asked as you climbed in.

You nodded, glancing at him, trying to gauge whether or not you were making a huge mistake. "Yeah... kind of, she’s always at the diner" you added, almost too quietly. You didn't want to give him the wrong impression, what 18 year old is freinds with a 13 year old?

He smiled just a little, but it was different from the smirks you’d seen on his face at school or around town. “That sounds like her” It wasn’t mean. It was soft

You can’t help but wonder what really happened in those seven years, what it was that changed him, but for now, you’re stuck here in the passenger seat of his truck, staring at his side profile as he drives.

Something about being around him feels oddly comforting, even though you know there’s so much you’ll never understand.

The ride was awkward, the kind of silence that felt thick enough to choke on. Rafe had the radio low, some song you didn’t recognize playing in the background.

You focused on the streetlights flashing by, the pavement blurring, but all you could think about was the tight knot of anxiety in your chest. You didn't belong in this car, in this moment. You should have been running in the other direction, but... for some reason, you weren’t scared. Not yet.

You had no idea where the hell you were going. That’s when he asked.

“So, do you have anywhere to go?”

You looked at your lap, clutching the bag tighter. You couldn’t tell him the truth, not completely. Not yet. "yeah" you said, your voice barely above a raspy whisper.

He didn’t say anything at first. But then you heard him exhale, like he was thinking it over. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck you’ve been through but….but you’re safe now,” he said, and his voice was surprisingly gentle, like he’d somehow sensed how scared you really were. “Ok?”

“Ok” You swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears. He wasn’t wrong. You were scared, terrified even, but for the first time in forever, someone wasn’t judging you for it.

No one in your family ever told you you were safe, ever told you that everything would be okay. You sniffled, the tears threatening to spill over.

You didn't want to break down in front of him.

The car slowed to a stop, and you realized you were at a diner, the neon lights buzzing softly. Rafe looked over at you, almost like he was waiting for you to protest or make some excuse. You didn’t. You just followed him out of the car, not saying a word.

Inside, the place smelled like burgers, fries, and cigarettes. The warmth was a stark contrast to the cold night outside, and it made you feel a little safer, like you were stepping into something straight out of a movie. Rafe led you to a booth and slid into the seat across from you. For a second, you both just stared at the menu, neither of you speaking. You didn’t know if you were supposed to order, or if he would. But then he broke the silence.

"What do you want?" He didn’t sound like he was expecting an answer right away. Like he was just making sure you were okay.

You looked at the menu, but your mind was elsewhere. You didn’t care what you ate. You just... didn’t want him to feel like he had to do this.

Like he had to take care of you.

“Just fries and a water,” you said, you didn't even know why you said it. It wasn’t like you had much of an appetite.

He raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t comment on it. He called the waitress over and ordered for both of you. A burger, fries, and a milkshake. When she left, he turned to you, his gaze softer than you thought he’d ever let it be.

"How are you holding up?" His voice was quieter now, the edge gone. He wasn’t the Rafe Cameron you’d heard about, the one everyone warned you to stay away from. He seemed... almost normal, it was freaking you out.

You shrugged, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "I don't know," you muttered. "Just tired, I guess."

He nodded, leaning back in his seat, but you caught him glancing at you every few seconds like he was still trying to figure you out.

“What are you running from” he said bluntly, his stare showing no signs playfulness, just a full serious look

you looked away, your tears sticking with your mascara and glitter eyeshadow “Home”

“Been there” he nodded taking in your appearance in, how could such a pretty girl like you be so alone and lost?

The food came quickly, and Rafe pushed the plate with the burger and fries toward you. "Eat," he said simply. “I’m not going to let you go hungry.”

You picked at the fries, not feeling hungry but not wanting to make him feel like you didn’t appreciate it. The milkshake was so cold and thick, and when you took a sip, you felt a small sense of comfort settle in. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

As you ate, Rafe kept glancing at you, almost like he was waiting for you to crack. When you sniffled again, wiping your nose with the back of your sleeve, he frowned. "I already told you, you don’t have to be scared," he said, his voice dropping a little. “You’re safe here. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

It was a strange thing for him to say, considering who he was. But in that moment, you believed him. You really did.

When you finished the milkshake and most of the burger, you felt a little more alive again, but the weight of everything of your family, of the lies, of everything that had pushed you to this point, was still there.

And you still had nowhere to go.

you just had a sparkly sack and a dream.

Rafe didn’t say much after that, just leaned back in his seat, and let you gather your thoughts. But when the waitress came by to take your plates, you stood up, and swung the creaky glass door open feeling that familiar unease creep back in.

"I’ll just go to the docks, the ferry leaves at 6am," you said, Turing around to see rafe as he followed right behind. You were going to take the ferry to the mainland, with the little money you had left. You weren’t sure where you were going from there, but it was something.

Rafe’s expression turned serious, almost annoyed. “No,” he said flatly.

“what?”

“I’m not letting you go to the docks. It’s dangerous, and I doubt you even have enough money to get anywh-.”

“You can’t fix everything!” you snapped, feeling all the frustration you’d been holding back suddenly spill out. "You can’t. fix. everything"

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Maybe I can’t fix everything,” he said, his voice firm. “But I can try to make sure you’re okay. I can’t just let you go off like that.”

You glared at him. “You don’t even know me. Why do you care?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He just looked at you like he was weighing something in his mind. Then he exhaled, running a hand through his buzzed head. “I know enough.”

You stared at him, unsure what to say. Your whole world was falling apart, and yet, here was this guy, this person you should’ve never trusted, according to everyone you knew

but then again why does it matter what everyone says? if you’re going by that logic then you would be at the bottom of the barrel.

“You want to runaway right?” he said, voice steady. “I have a place, it’s 5 hours away, that far enough for you?”

“Do you even know how old I am!? Hello, I could turn you in right now for being a weirdo” you asked with sass, anything to get him off of your case

“ ‘sticky’s’ won’t hire under 18.” He said nonchalantly rolling his eyes, “unless you lied or where getting paid under the table? Then I could turn you and your employer in”

You didn’t know if it was the exhaustion in his voice, but something in you cracked. “i didn’t lie, I’m 18” you said your voice trembling slightly. “I’ll go with you. But no funny business, I will jump out of the freaking car” you said crossing your arms

“Whatever you say, sugar”

Was this a good idea? Probably not. You’re parents would ironically raise hell over this town once they found out their precious daughter had run off with Rafe fucking Cameron

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[parker-artio]

So I’ve said it a couple times, but I come from a huge family, which is mostly foster family. But I’m from a small town and live in a five bedroom house (one for my mom, one for my brothers, one for my younger sisters, one for my older sister since she’s 18 and can’t share a room w/ foster kids, then mine.)

But rooms aren’t anyone’s hiding spots- Yk what I mean, when you need to destress and get away from everyone but your room is too obvious- so, it got me thinking.

The Wayne manor is massive, all of the bat kids definitely all have that spot. The hiding spot.

So here’s what I think all of them are!

Dick: He had three. The one he lets everyone know about, the one he only lets his siblings know about, and his secret one. He trusts them to only come annoy him in the first one, because he only ever uses it when he crashes out (it’s his best past-time). This one I think would be an ‘on the nose’ place, like his bedroom closet, in the ceilings, on a random chandelier, on the roof, somewhere where they would think to look (they being Bruce and the other adults.) The second is more likely a not so obvious place, but everyone would consider thinking about it. Like, the guest room next to his room- but not just the room, like the closet, or under the bed in there, maybe the shed in the backyard. But his place- the place he tells no one about, that’s the attic. He’ll go up there and hide under and behind a fortress of boxes and pillows and blankets he’s slowly added to since he was 9. No one questions when he goes into the laundry room with a full tote of blankets and pillows or carry’s around cleaning supplies upstairs.

Cass: She hides in the pool house. No one knows. No one finds out.

Jason: When Dick told him about his hiding spot(s) he immediately scoured the library for a hidden spot, his logic was: it’s an old house, there’s gotta be a hidden room somewhere, right? And there was. So when he disappears into the library for three hours and someone goes in after him and doesn’t find him anywhere, they assume he’s escaped through the library in the window.

Tim: He grew up in an old house, he knows all of the hiding spots. Which is how he knew there was a hidden door under the left stairs that led to a panic room, which’s he’s officially transformed into a safe haven, and no one but him can get into or out of. He’s gotta pad lock with a code he can’t even remember. Good thing for patterns.

Duke: When he moved into his room (pretend Bruce is fostering him and he doesn’t live w/ his cousin okay?) He always heard a weird sound coming from his closet. At first he thought it was haunted and refused to put anything in there, but one day when it actually happened during the day and not at night he decided to inspect it, and found a small vent, just big enough for him to crawl through. He obviously went into it, he found himself in a small room where all of the vents connected, just above the batcave- which is where the noise came from. He added a few battery powered fairy string lights, and a small beanbag with a blanket and chair.

Damian: He insists he doesn’t need one despite everyone saying it would be beneficial. But if anyone claims when he goes missing for hours when the barn lights are on, he denies it all. But as he gets older, he doesn’t keep hiding the fact that the barns his hidden space- and a room where he hides the animals from Bruce when he first smuggles them into the house. But no one knows where that is.

BONUS:

Barbara: She used to have a hiding spot in one of the many hidden cliffs in the batcave where she has a very nice fluffy pillow and her baby blanket with a fluffy blanket to accompany it. Her backup-laptop a very strong charger, and a couple books for her college classes. But she can’t get up there, so it’s kinda a hidden relic stuck in time. Now she hides in an unused room back by the back door with enough space for her to move around in her wheelchair, but no one knows where it is.

Steph: She went into the batcave once and saw a door that was labeled ‘Batman only’ so obviously she went inside. The room was empty beside a small door and the shelves of backup generators. So obviously she went into the small door and found herself in a small cozy dark room. She’s managed to decorate it like her room, and even put a lock that can only be opened by her phone. Bruce definitely noticed the room was tampered with when he went to go get a generator, but he didn’t ask about it. He knows everyone has a hiding spot.

Harper: She doesn’t have a place, but she will go into the upstairs bathroom next to the upstairs living room and lock the door and sit in the tub. It’s very therapeutic.

Luke: He’s not at the manor or batcave enough to have a hiding spot, but at his mom and dads he’s got a small section of the basement where he terraformed into a small ‘man cave’ but in actuality he just sits in there on the gaming chair he took from his sister and listens to music or relaxes.

That’s everyone I can think of right now, I might add other characters in a pt. 2? Like maybe Maps, Tiffany, Kate, ect.

[not-magdi]

-little protector / ben shelton

Warnings: none

Words: 663

Reading time : 2-3 minutes

Request: Hello :) could you do an imagine where reader have a younger brother (like 2/5 years old) and he is jealous when Ben gives affection to the reader cus that’s his sister and they bicker please ?

Thank you so much for requesting, hope you love it ! <3 MASTERLIST

The cozy hum of laughter and conversation filled your family’s living room, the scent of your mom’s famous lasagna wafting from the kitchen. It was one of those rare weekends where everyone was home, and the house felt alive with warmth and noise. You sat curled up on the couch next to Ben, his arm casually draped over your shoulders, thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles on your skin.

But someone else in the room wasn’t having it.

From across the room, your four-year-old brother, Noah, was glaring.

Tiny arms crossed over his chest, his little lips pushed out in a pout, and his big brown eyes locked onto Ben like he was the villain in a superhero movie. The second Ben leaned in to whisper something in your ear, Noah let out an exaggerated huff, stomping his foot for extra drama.

You bit back a laugh, glancing at Noah. “Hey, buddy, you okay over there?”

Noah didn’t answer. Instead, he marched straight across the room with all the determination of someone twice his size, stopping right in front of you and Ben. He stared up at Ben with a fierce look that was more adorable than intimidating.

“You can’t sit next to my sister,” Noah declared, his voice high-pitched but filled with conviction.

Ben raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Oh yeah? And who says so, little man?”

“I say so!” Noah shot back, planting his feet firmly like he was ready to square up.

Ben chuckled, leaning down so he was eye level with Noah, his face full of mock seriousness. “I don’t know, champ. I think your sister likes me sitting here.” He gave you a playful wink, which only made Noah’s frown deepen.

“No!” Noah stomped his foot again. “I sit next to her!”

You couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore, covering your mouth to hide the grin spreading across your face. “Noah, Ben’s not stealing me, I promise.”

But Noah wasn’t convinced. He turned his glare back to Ben, pointing a tiny finger at him. “You go over there,” he demanded, gesturing to the empty armchair across the room.

Ben laughed, leaning back on the couch with a smug grin. “Sorry, buddy. I’m pretty comfy right here.”

Noah’s face scrunched up in frustration. Without another word, he climbed onto the couch and squeezed himself right between you and Ben, using all his strength to push Ben’s arm off your shoulders.

“There,” Noah huffed, settling in your lap and wrapping his small arms around your neck possessively. “Mine.”

Ben’s eyes widened, and then he burst out laughing, ruffling Noah’s hair. “Alright, alright, you win—for now.”

But Noah wasn’t done. He shot Ben another suspicious look, like he was daring him to try anything.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to Noah’s cheek. “You’re my favorite little guy, you know that?”

Noah’s pout softened slightly, but his arms stayed firmly around your neck.

Ben leaned closer, voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Don’t worry, Noah. I’ll share her with you.”

Noah shot him a glare. “No sharing!”

Ben threw his hands up in surrender, laughing. “Okay, no sharing. Got it.”

But as the evening went on, Noah’s fierce jealousy began to waver. After dinner, Ben challenged him to a game of Connect Four, and Noah—despite himself—started to warm up to the idea of having Ben around. They bickered back and forth, Ben pretending to lose a few rounds just to hear Noah’s triumphant little giggles.

By the time bedtime rolled around, Noah was curled up on Ben’s lap, his earlier scowls replaced by sleepy yawns.

As you tucked Noah into bed later that night, he clung to your hand, blinking up at you sleepily.

“Do you… do you have to like Ben?” he mumbled, his voice soft now, the fight finally gone.

You smiled, brushing his hair off his forehead. “I do, buddy. But you’re still my number one, okay?”

Noah gave a tiny nod, his eyelids drooping. “Okay… but he’s kinda funny…”

You chuckled softly, kissing his forehead. “Yeah, he is.”

When you stepped back into the living room, Ben was lounging on the couch, a smug grin on his face.

“So,” he teased, “do you think he’s finally accepted me, or should I expect another duel tomorrow?”

You laughed, plopping down beside him. “I think you’ve won him over. But don’t get too comfortable—he’s still watching you.”

Ben pulled you closer, his arm slipping around your shoulders again. “Good. I like a challenge.”

And as you leaned into him, the warmth of the evening still lingering in the air, you realized that Ben wasn’t just winning over your little brother—he was winning over your whole heart, too.

------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !❤️

[star-lights-up]

i just keep thinking like... cherik romcom aus. just the fluffiest romcoms out there, but cherik.

and then i rewatched while you were sleeping, my all time favorite romcom, and realized that cherik would actually do great with a borderline creepy, chaotic premise. Because what are they if not chaotic and filled with longing stares.

I give you:

Erik's mom passed away two years ago, leaving him working at the train station in chicago. He is desperately lonely, though he'll never admit it.

One day, on christmas, when he's the only one working, a woman comes through his booth just like usual, but then some dudes instigate a bit of a fight and, well, she gets pushed onto the train tracks.

He jumps down and drags her out of the way of the train just in time, and she's rushed to the hospital, where it's discovered that she's in a coma.

He's not allowed in to see her, because he's not family, so one of the nurses tells the doctor that he's her fiance. Because who's going to care?

And then this big family comes into the hospital room -- it's mostly teenagers and young adults, it seems, though there's one older man who seems to be in charge of the group. Erik, promptly, gets introduced by the doctor as the woman (who turns out to be named "raven")'s fiance. All hell breaks loose, and somehow he can't manage to tell the family that it's not true.

They invite him over for a christmas re-do the next time they see him. He explains that he's jewish. They tell him to come anyways, they want to get to know him, maybe he can tell them a bit about his own holiday traditions, since he's going to be a part of the family and they'll "probably end up adopting them too!" as the jovial older man, oliver, says. (that's the "guy in black suit" that never gets a name in first class)

So Erik goes. And gosh, there's a lot of people in this family: Alex and Hank and Sean and Angel and Darwin and Moira and someone named Charles who hasn't shown up yet. And it turns out they're this kind of cobbled-together, adopted, found family that Erik, well... he kind of fits into. And he hasn't fit into anything for so long. It's nice.

And then, of course, he meets Charles. And charles is a pain in the ass. He interrogates him about whether or not he's really raven's fiance.... which, he isn't, so technically that's fair, but it still gets incredibly annoying.

And then somewhere along the way, their arguing turns into talking, which turns into erik considering Charles as a maybe-kinda-sorta friend, which turns into erik realizing, oh, shit, he's fallen for Charles.

His fake fiance's brother. Who thinks that he's his sister's fiance.

Erik's about to come clean when Raven wakes up. She immediately calls him on his bullshit, leading to the most awkward explanation of his life.... but the family welcomes him back with open arms.

"You're stuck with us, now." Charles whispers, elbowing him in the side as they get more info from raven's doctor about her recovery.

Slowly, Erik works up the courage to ask Charles out. Charles accepts. They have a whirlwind romance and get married after four months. They bicker and flirt and are an insufferably domestic and happy couple. They have twins through surrogacy -- and they name the baby girl "wanda" after the nurse who told the doctors erik was raven's fiance and caused their meeting. They live happily ever after, the end.

i ended up cutting the creepiness out of this 😂 no erik crushing super hard on raven in the beginning like lucy and peter.

[kezdispenser]

Breaking Character pt13/13

Summary: You are the new cast member of 'The Boys' and you play Butcher's cousin and Soldier Boy's new love interest 'Solene'. You're introduced to the cast by the director at a dinner and you're seated next to Karl and Jensen to "bond".

Jensen had spent weeks trying to figure out the perfect way to propose. It had to be big because this woman had changed his entire life, turned it inside out, and made him better—but it also had to feel like them. He didn’t want a flashy, red-carpet moment with paparazzi. He didn’t want to do it at some fancy event with a million eyes watching.

This was about her, him, and the kids.

So, he planned. And over-planned. He ran through every possible scenario, debated for hours with Jared and Misha, even called his mom for advice.

And in the end, it came down to one question:

"What would make her laugh, cry, and call me an idiot all at once?"

The answer?

A freaking treasure hunt.

It was supposed to be a normal night. A simple, quiet evening at home.

At least, that’s what Y/N thought.

She was curled up on the couch in one of Jensen’s hoodies, flipping through a book while the kids played a game on the floor. The air smelled like popcorn and chocolate, leftovers from their earlier movie night.

And then, out of nowhere, JJ climbed onto the couch and plopped directly onto Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N groaned. “Kid, I love you, but you weigh more than you think.”

JJ just grinned and shoved a folded piece of paper into her hands. “You need to read this. Now.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What is this? Your report card? Am I supposed to be proud or concerned?”

Zeppelin giggled. “It’s a clue.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered to Jensen, who sat on the opposite couch with a smug as hell expression. Arms crossed, looking way too pleased with himself.

“Oh no.” Y/N groaned. “What did you do?”

Jensen smirked. “Read it and find out, sweetheart.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but unfolded the note anyway.

"For someone who stole my heart, it’s only fair you find the missing pieces. Clue #1: Where Zeppelin always hides when it’s bath time."

Y/N barked out a laugh. “Under the stairs? Seriously?”

Zeppelin gasped dramatically. “HOW DID YOU KNOW?”

Y/N ruffled his hair. “Because I see you, little dude.”

The kids shrieked and took off running toward the hiding spot under the stairs, practically dragging Y/N along.

Jensen stayed behind for a second, just watching. Watching her. Watching the way she fit so seamlessly into their lives, the way the kids clung to her, the way her laughter filled every corner of the house.

He exhaled slowly.

"This is it," he thought. "This is everything."

And then, shaking himself out of his thoughts, he followed after them.

Each clue led her through different parts of the house—each one tied to a moment in their relationship.

The kitchen, where they had their first real argument because Jensen used the wrong kind of cheese in the mac and cheese (she still hadn’t let him live that down).

The living room couch, where the kids had first told Y/N they loved her.

The porch swing, where they had shared countless late-night talks, their hands intertwined, the world quiet around them.

Every single stop was a memory. A reminder. A piece of their story.

By the time she reached the final clue, her fingers were trembling slightly as she unfolded it.

"Look to the sky. Your last clue is waiting."

Y/N frowned. “Look to the—”

And then she heard it.

A loud, whooshing sound.

She turned around—her eyes widening as she took in the giant hot air balloon in the backyard, glowing softly under the fairy lights that Jensen had strung up in the trees.

Y/N froze. “You have GOT to be kidding me.”

Jensen, standing next to it with his hands in his pockets, just grinned. “What, you scared?”

She turned to the kids. “Are you guys going in this?”

JJ nodded, bouncing on her feet. “DUH! It’s gonna be so fun!”

Arrow beamed. “Dad said it’s safe.”

Y/N shot Jensen a glare. “You trust him?”

“Hey,” Jensen scoffed, holding a hand over his heart. “I take great care of you guys.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “You almost cut your damn eye out trying to open a bottle of wine last week.”

“…Okay, but—”

“I had to drive us to the ER.”

“Technicalities, sweetheart.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head, but she still let Jensen take her hand and lead her toward the balloon. “If we die, I’m haunting you.”

Jensen smirked. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The view from above was breathtaking.

The town below looked so small, the sky was painted in streaks of orange, pink, and deep purple. The air was crisp, the world quiet except for the occasional gasp from the kids as they looked out over the edge.

Jensen turned to her, his heart hammering.

This was it.

“Y/N,” he started, pulling her attention back to him.

She blinked. “Yeah?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. “Look—I’ve thought about doing this a million different ways. Something big, something crazy, something quiet. But at the end of the day, the only thing that really matters is you, me, and these little monsters.”

Arrow gasped. “Did you just call us monsters?”

Jensen smirked. “Affectionately.”

Y/N let out a breathless laugh.

“The truth is,” Jensen continued, “I didn’t think I’d ever do this again. I thought love like this wasn’t in the cards for me. And then you came along, and you made everything easy. Even the hard shit. Even the fights, even the chaos—you made it all worth it. You made me worth it.”

Y/N’s eyes were already glossy with unshed tears.

“So,” he said, finally flipping open the box, revealing the ring. “Here I am, in a fucking hot air balloon, with my heart in my hands, asking you to marry me.”

JJ nearly screamed. “SAY YES!”

Y/N covered her face, laughing and crying at the same time. Then she dropped her hands, shaking her head.

“You absolute idiot,” she muttered.

Jensen swallowed. “…Is that a yes or—”

She lunged forward and kissed him, hard.

The kids cheered. Jensen was grinning into the kiss. And when she finally pulled back, pressing her forehead against his, she whispered, “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Jensen slipped the ring onto her finger, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles.

And as the hot air balloon floated higher into the sky, carrying them into forever, he whispered, “Good, ‘cause you’re stuck with me now.”

Jensen had never been the kind of guy to dream about his wedding day. Not really.

But this? This felt right. No over-the-top, Hollywood-style spectacle. No paparazzi swarming the venue. Just their closest friends, family, and the people who had been part of their journey from the very start. It was grand, because loving her deserved something grand. But it was also intimate, because this was theirs.

And today, she would become his wife.

The wedding was held at a private ranch in Texas—wide open fields, towering oak trees, and the sky stretching endlessly above them. Fairy lights wrapped around the wooden beams of the barn, candles flickered on every table, and wildflowers lined the aisle leading to the altar. It was rustic but elegant. Warm and inviting.

Just like them.

The sun was beginning to set, casting golden light over everything, and Jensen stood at the altar, hands clasped together, heart pounding in his chest.

Jared, his best man, leaned in and muttered, “You look like you’re gonna puke, man.”

Jensen let out a breathless chuckle. “Not helping.”

Misha, standing on the other side, smirked. “You cry, I cry. That’s how this works.”

Jensen rolled his eyes, but his grip on the inside of his jacket tightened. He hadn’t seen Y/N all day, hadn’t even spoken to her since last night.

And then, suddenly—

The music started.

A soft, acoustic version of “Iris” played through the air.

And there she was.

Jensen felt his breath hitch the second she stepped into view.

Y/N was stunning.

Her dress was everything he imagined it would be—timeless, effortless, breathtaking. The fabric hugged her in all the right places before flowing out, delicate lace trailing behind her. The setting sun bathed her in golden light, making her look almost unreal.

But it wasn’t just the dress.

It was her.

The way she looked at him like he was the only person in the world. The way her lips curved into a soft, knowing smile. The way her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Jensen swallowed hard.

Jared nudged him. “Dude.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re crying.”

Jensen blinked rapidly, clearing his throat. “Shut up.”

When Y/N finally reached him, Jensen exhaled deeply, taking both of her hands in his.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered.

She grinned. “Hey, husband-to-be.”

The officiant started speaking, but Jensen barely heard him. His world had shrunk down to just her—the feeling of her fingers interlaced with his, the way her chest rose and fell with every nervous breath.

And then, it was time for the vows.

Jensen cleared his throat, pulling out a small piece of paper.

“I tried to write something short,” he started, voice rough with emotion. “But you know me. I suck at keeping things simple.”

A soft chuckle rippled through the crowd.

“I’ve been in love before,” he started, voice thick. “I thought I knew what it meant. I thought I understood what love was. But I was wrong. Because love isn’t just the easy parts. It’s not just the good mornings, the kisses, the date nights. Love is the days when nothing makes sense. When everything is falling apart. When you feel like you’re standing in the middle of a storm, and you don’t know which way is forward.

And Y/N—" He exhaled shakily, tightening his grip on her hands. “You were my way forward. You are my way forward.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and Jensen reached up, brushing it away with his thumb.

“I love you,” he said. “Not just for the person you are, but for the person you make me want to be. I love the way you laugh too loudly, the way you steal my coffee even though you have your own, the way you take care of everyone around you. I love every little piece of you, and I promise you—” His voice cracked. “I promise to choose you. Over and over. Every single day. For the rest of my life.”

Y/N let out a soft, choked laugh, wiping at her eyes.

She sniffled, blinking up at him with so much love it nearly knocked the breath out of his lungs.

Her voice was shaky when she started, full of emotion. “Jensen… I spent so much of my life thinking love had to be complicated. That it had to be a battle, something to fight for, to prove. And then I met you. And you taught me that love doesn’t have to be a war.”

She squeezed his hands, her lips trembling.

“You showed me that love can be safe. That it can be warm, and steady, and something I never have to second-guess. You have been my best friend, my partner, the person I trust with every part of me. And today, I get to call you my husband.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek, but she was smiling.

“I promise to love you,” she said softly. “In the big moments and the small ones. In the quiet mornings and the stormy nights. I promise to stand beside you, to fight for you, to be the person who reminds you every single day that you are so, so loved.”

Her voice broke on the last words, and Jensen felt a tear slip down his own cheek.

There was silence—just for a second. Just long enough for the moment to settle deep in his bones.

Then, the officiant spoke.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

And Jensen—he didn’t waste a second.

He cupped her face, pulled her in, and kissed her like it was the first time, the last time, and every time in between.

The world melted away.

It was just them.

It had always been just them.

And now, forever, it would be.

They had fought for this, for each other, for the family they had built together. From the chaos of their early days, the ups and downs, the moments of doubt and confusion, they had weathered every storm. The kids, their laughter, the fights, the makeups—each part of their life together was like a piece of a puzzle, finally fitting into place.

As they stood there, exchanging vows, Jensen’s voice cracked with emotion. He wasn’t just making a promise to Y/N in that moment; he was sealing everything they had been through together—every single sacrifice, every shared moment of joy. And Y/N, with her heart full of everything she had ever hoped for, knew they had finally found their way home.

Later, in the quiet of their home, as the world outside settled into peaceful slumber, they curled up together on the couch, their fingers intertwined. Their hearts beat in sync, the weight of their journey no longer a burden but a testament to their love.

They had been through hell and back, but now, they were ready to face whatever came next. Together.

And as Y/N rested her head against Jensen’s chest, she knew that no matter where life took them, they had found something unbreakable. They had found each other.

THE END

----------------

A/N: so yes, i did cry. im so sorry if this wasnt what you guys were expecting but this is all i could do, i've got finals in three days but here it is! This is the end of Breaking Character, and i'm so proud of how this entire series turned out, I didn't expect so much love from you guys. Thank you all <3

@justwhisperingfantasies @impala67rollingthroughtown @deansimpalababy @jackles010378 @winchester @barnes70stark @nancymcl @oceean @spnaquakindgdom @ladysparkles78 @sexyvixen7 @spxideyver @stoneyggirl2 @star-yawnznn @quietgirll75 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @palerogue1 @writtenbyhollywood

[sturniololuvz]

heyyy could you do a fic where 4 year old sister refuses to wear anything but the boys sweatshirts? and when they try to get her to wear her own clothes she cries and throws a fit

yessss!

“Little Hoodie Thief”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings: none

It started off cute.

Y/N had waddled into the living room one morning, drowning in one of Chris’s sweatshirts, the sleeves dragging on the floor as she clutched her sippy cup. Chris had laughed, scooping her up and calling her his “mini-me.”

Then, the next day, she showed up in one of Nick’s hoodies.

Then Matt’s.

And before the triplets knew it, their four-year-old little sister was refusing to wear anything except their sweatshirts.

At first, they let it slide. It was adorable watching her stomp around in their oversized hoodies, the sleeves covering her hands like little mittens. But then, one morning, their mom tried to dress her in actual clothes, and all hell broke loose.

“Y/N, baby, you have a whole closet of cute outfits,” she said, holding up a little pink sweater. “How about this one?”

Y/N shook her head aggressively. “No! Matty’s hoodie!”

Matt, sitting at the kitchen table, raised an eyebrow. “You wanna wear my hoodie?”

Y/N nodded, crossing her arms stubbornly.

Chris smirked. “Kinda sounds like you have no choice, bro.”

Their mom sighed, rubbing her temples. “She can’t live in your sweatshirts forever, guys. Talk to her.”

Intervention Time

The triplets found Y/N sitting on the couch, drowning in Nick’s blue hoodie, watching Bluey like she had no worries in the world.

Matt sat beside her. “Bug, why don’t you wanna wear your own clothes?”

Y/N barely looked at him. “I like yours better.”

Chris plopped down on the other side. “But why, though?”

Y/N turned to him like the answer was obvious. “They smell like you.”

Nick melted on the spot. “Aw, dude—”

Matt shot him a look. “Don’t encourage this.”

Chris grinned. “You just love us so much, huh?”

Y/N nodded. “Yep.”

Matt sighed. “That’s cute and all, but you need to wear your own clothes, okay?”

Y/N immediately frowned. “No.”

“Y/N—”

Before Matt could finish, she burst into tears.

Like, full-on meltdown.

“NOOOO!” Y/N wailed, flopping onto the couch dramatically. “I WANT NICKY’S HOODIE!”

Nick held back a laugh. “Damn, bro, she really said ‘ride or die.’”

Chris was dying. “She’s literally acting like you just took away her whole world.”

Matt groaned. “Dude, this is so not funny.”

But the thing was—it was funny. Y/N was rolling around, clutching Nick’s hoodie like it was the most precious thing she owned, tears streaming down her chubby cheeks.

“I NEED IT!” she sobbed.

Nick sighed, looking at the others. “…What if we just let her keep one?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, like, compromise. She gets one triplet hoodie.”

Matt exhaled. “Fine. But only one.”

Nick turned to Y/N, who was still sniffling. “Okay, Bug, you can keep one hoodie.”

Y/N immediately stopped crying.

Like, immediately.

She wiped her face and blinked up at them. “Really?”

Chris smirked. “Yep. But only one. Which one do you want?”

Y/N looked between them, then down at the hoodie she was already wearing. She grabbed the sleeve of Nick’s hoodie and pulled it close.

“Nicky’s.”

Nick beamed. “Hell yeah, Bug.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Favoritism, man.”

Matt sighed. “At least we got her to wear something normal under it.”

And just like that, Y/N won.

Because the truth was, she was never just gonna wear one.

By the end of the week, she had successfully stolen one hoodie from each brother.

And they let her.

Because, really—how could they say no to her?

[ynzworld]

“꿈의 나라” Dreamland ~{NIKI as your boyfriend}~

•When you have a bad dream•

사랑해

Warning: family issues, anxiety, crying, pet names, fluff, comfort, abuse, kissing

𝒴𝓃𝓏𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓁𝒹

__________________________________________________

Your clutching the blanket and your breathing is heavy. Niki slowly wakes up from dreamland do to your sudden movements. He was used to you moving around when you guys slept but this was different, your back was faced to him your body was taking kips and faint noises were coming from your mouth. “Baby stay still” he groans. Your body stopped moving for a second, then your leg kips and a soft “mm” comes out of your mouth.

“Y/n stop moving so much” niki whispers not realising you were sleeping. “No don’t take me” you whisper slightly just loud enough for him to hear. “Princess?” Niki turns you around confused and examines your face, you looked scared but still sound asleep, “niki” you say voice frightened.

You were still sleeping, tears start running to your cheeks. “Shh baby, I’m here it’s okay, you’re okay” he comforts you trying his best in the situation. His hands slide around your waist and automatically your face buries in his neck.

That’s when you wake up from your dream, you start sobbing “ki I thought I was going to die” you sob “baby you’re okay” he comforts you lifting his hand to caress your back and eventually playing with your hair.

“They were going to take me” the neckline of his shirt was already soaked due to your tears but he didn’t care about that, all he focused on was you. “Who was going to take you?” He asks, his voice comforting “my mom and dad, they tried to take me back home”

niki knew about your troubled past with your family, especially your parents. Your parents had kicked you out multiple times, but each time they wanted you back and you always gave them another chance.

But each time it was always the same story, chores cleaning and making sure they were happy. They didn’t care about you, plus they had severe drinking problems, sometimes things got messy with your dad and he’d hit you or lock you in your room for days at a time with no food or water. But last time was the worst and you never wanted to go back there.

Niki and his members knew about this so they offered you to live with them, and you accepted.

“You won’t ever go back there baby, I’ll make sure of that we’ll all protect you hm?” All he thought about was making sure you were okay in this moment.

“I love you, my princess” he stroked your back and drew all kinds of shapes. “I love you too nini” you sometimes called him nicknames like ki or nini but only you were allowed to use them. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead and hold you even tighter.

“You’re okay, you’re so strong, beautiful, intelligent and amazing nothing will stop me from protecting you” his tone is serious, he really meant what he said nothing would stop him.

[fleshdyk3]

god i fucking hate my dad

[itsalwaysdark]

and when i live on my own ill be able to decorate like real life decorate ive never gotten to do that in real life b4

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[penisbilt]

the bittersweet but absolute flood of relief that comes from admitting defeat at living independently, to have to move back in with parents. we tried! we gave it our best shot for almost 3 years! but living like this (being on our own) is just not possible for us at this time of our lives. we've finally proved it to ourselves that we can't do it. it'll be okay to let ourselves rest now

[seventh-district]

sometimes it’s late at night and you’re cleaning your room and you come across a few old black and white photos of a young girl and you stare at them for a long minute wondering how on earth they got lost in an old Kroger shopping bag with an unopened pack of cigarettes and a receipt dated 2017.

and you look at the girl in the pictures sat on the floor of someone’s home you don’t recognize, smiling and playing with a set of keys and a tiny part of you feels like it recognizes her but you aren’t sure.

and you flip the pictures over hoping to find some sort of annotation that would give you context and all you find is the year 1964 stamped in tiny font along the edge.

and you flip them back over and time stands still as you realize that the recognition you feel is because she looks so much like you once did and next thing you know your hands are sweating and shaking and you have to sit on the floor because you’re crying so hard because it hits you all at once that you’re looking at your mother.

[insipid-drivel]

"Biz, what would you like for your birthday this year?"

"For nobody to misgender me for a day."

Turned out too much to ask (:

[cousinsam]

Last week I was sick and my fiancé(e) @junkyrdgh0st read me for filth in one sentence:

"are you watching star trek?"

the thing is. *that's what I do when I'm sick.* everytime. i had not told this fun fact about me to my fiancé(e) she just clocked me with star trek after like 30 seconds of her hearing me rasp wheeze and cough. just "are you watching star trek? you tend to always watch star trek when you get sick" UH YEAH I GUESS IM AN OPEN BOOK THEN