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Janaina Medeiros
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hello vonnie
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@lacyydollette
⭒ ֹ 𓂃 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 ݊ masterlist pinterest side blog guideline
𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀^ྀི s¡her 𝟕𝟕𝟕 nude lipliners kitten heels click clacking whore for soft intimacy cat mama #bringbackyearningmen a walking blyth dolll prettiest doe eyes wandering around french tips 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𓂃 ⋆
✉️ ꒰ current whip : ceo!rafe x personal!assistant!reader ꒱
𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘𝐘𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. do not plagiarize, take inspo or claim any of my work as your own on any platforms.
he sure can put his hands on me. oh and that arrow celebration? oh my god…
by tiemyheartstrings on tiktok!
@philcameli8025 you’ve got some real swag i fw you.
imagine being this stunning
i hate when a beloved mutual unfollows and i stick around because they have a good blog. excellent curation of reblogs i can't just leave
OFF CAMPUS 1.04 The Breakup
non book reader shipping logan with hannah…don’t piss me off please
Drew Strakey as Rafe Cameron OUTER BANKS (2020-) | Season 3 Episode 8
₊ ֹ ˖ THE TIME WHEN LOGAN FINDS DEAN IN BED WITH HIS SISTER ᱺㅤㅤ ୨౿
there were certain traumatic events john logan wanted to erase from his brain. scratch that from the existence, and all of that somehow always involved dean. his alleged best friend.
first was when he caught dean taking a bubble bath with a hot pink dildo.
second was when he found his nasty condoms clogging the shower drain.
third—third was when he barged into his room for something and found him naked and all cuddly with his own fucking sister.
he doesn’t have the time to do anything but let out a scream of disgust and slap a hand over his eyes, protecting his innocence.
meanwhile dean doesn’t have the time to react to anything else except let out a high‑pitched scream while you—you, the said sister—roll yourself in your boyfriend’s sheet and out of panic fall right onto the floor, wrapped in his sheets like a marshmallow.
boyfriend you haven’t told a soul about after dating for months, after so many nights of you sneaking into his room from the back door and him sneaking into your dorm every single time your roommate is out.
“are you guys fucking decent yet!?” just from the way your brother yells, unnecessarily loud, you know he’s mad mad.
why wouldn’t he be? his own sister has gone behind his back, dating his manwhore, womanizer best friend.
“yes!” you yell back, just like he did, while dean quickly shoves his junk into his boxers and stands up.
“are you fucking serious, man?” the moment logan opens his eyes, he’s glaring at dean, ready to use his fists on him. “out of all the girls in the world, you go for my sister?”
dean throws his hands up. “i didn’t go for your sister, man, i fell for her. there’s a difference! it just happened!”
“oh, congratulations,” logan snaps. “that makes it soooo much better.”
“i’m not a kid, stop treating me like one, i made my own choice!” you yell, joining their yelling match, and that just earns you a glare from your brother.
“not a word from you.”
“how long has this been going on?” he turns to dean sternly.
“couple months. . ?” dean answers boredly, now more distracted by your current state than the impending murder.
god, you look so hot wrapped up in his shit while you shoot daggers at your brother.
“months?” logan’s eyes go wide. “you’ve been lying to my face for months, you lying slut?!”
“i weren’t lying!” dean snaps. “i was . . selectively honest.”
“that’s literally the definition of lying!” logan practically roars. “you’ve been sneaking my sister into your shithole of a room like some—some raccoon with a sex addiction for months?!”
a mess. it’s all just a mess.
finally after a shit ton of screaming at each other when they’ve both calmed down and you and dean have both made it clear that you’re serious, logan sighs. “let’s get this over with.”
confusion swings across your face as you stare at both of them, worried. “what are you guys talking about?”
dean gets to his feet. so does logan.
“sorry. it needs to be done,” your brother mutters.
“needs to be done,” dean echoes guiltily.
when dean cracks the knuckles of his right hand, understanding dawns in your eyes. “you’re going to hit him?” you exclaim, jumping to your feet. “what the hell! no way!”
“di laurentis knows the code. he didn’t follow it. therefore. . ”
logan’s right. there is a code. other teams might have rules about not dating a teammate’s sister or ex or whoever else is off‑limits, but briars hockey team never strictly adhered to anything like that. their rule was much simpler—ask before you go there.
the code isn’t some random bullshit. it’s about respecting your teammate.
dean cracks the knuckles of his left hand.
“you’re insane. don’t you dare touch him, john!” you clutch the sheets and try to throw yourself toward dean, but he gently moves you to the side.
“just let it happen,” he says. “it’s really not a big de—”
logan doesn’t throw a punch.
he knees dean in the balls.
dean folds like a lawn chair, collapsing onto the bed, croaking as he grabs his junk.
“logan, you piece of shit, not the niece and nephew maker!”
logan just shrugs, his anger totally replaced by satisfaction of the hit, totally unapologetic. “relax, if they’re di laurentis stock, they’ll respawn.”
dean wheezes from the bed. “pretty sure they just rage‑quit, man.”
locked in and wrote 8 short cutesy stuff today i feel so proud of myself 🥹
₊ ֹ ˖ LATE NIGHT SNACKING WITH BF!GARRETT ᱺㅤㅤ ୨౿
he’s fucked you so good it feels like you’ve just gone through a three hour workout session. you’re sprawled on his bed, his whole weight pressed on top of you, when your stomach clearly didn’t get the memo and lets out a loud grumble.
“you hungry?”
“a little.” you nod, a little breathless. his expression softens instantly, thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “say less. your favorite, yeah?”
which is what brings you both into the kitchen at one in the morning.
he’s quietly whipping up the ingredients for your favorite cinnamon pancakes, trying not to wake the others, while you sit on the counter beside him, a bowl of strawberries balanced between your legs. you bite into one, watching—no, openly admiring—your very attractive boyfriend.
soon-to-be husband, if he keeps this gentleman act up.
the whole “being quiet” thing fails miserably because garrett can’t help cracking dumb jokes and throwing in terrible pickup lines. you laugh way too loud, and he uses it as an excuse to kiss you just to shut you up.
“can you get me the chocolate chips, please?” he mumbles, focused adorably on mixing the dry with the wet ingredients.
you reach into the drawer next to you and hand them over. he leans in to peck your lips in return. “thank you, baby.”
“mhm.”
while waiting for the pancakes to cook, he stands between your legs as you feed him strawberries, rewarding you each time with a soft kiss.
who knew garret “i-don’t-do-girlfriends” graham would be standing in a dimly lit kitchen, hand-feeding his girl pancakes he made from scratch at one in the morning without a single complaint—kissing the syrup off her lips after every bite, making her giggle hysterically. the kind of giggle that makes him grin so wide, looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world.
I recognize your writing did you used to have another blog?
yes! if your talking about the two fics i posted for aaron hotch then yes those fics are reposts from another blog i deleted weeks ago.
DUA LIPA and CALLUM TURNER Married in London (31 May 2026)
₊ ֹ ˖ BF!DEAN WHEN HE’S JEALOUS ᱺㅤㅤ ୨౿
he’s staring at you from across the overcrowded frat party, sipping on his drink and smiling like a fool.
your in your usual element, bubbly and laughing while you’re dancing with your girls, looking utterly beautiful in the short mini skirt that’s so short you could flash the whole party with a slight bend, and a skimpy top that’s tied at your back, and dean’s pretty sure he could untie it with a tug of his teeth.
the outfit is beyond dangerous and scandalous, but that’s why your boyfriend’s here, right? and he can fight too, so that’s a bonus.
eventually that smile on dean’s face turns into an annoyed look when you move around all sweaty, trying to get a drink from logan, and that gives the perfect opportunity to some short frat guy making his way towards you, flashing you his cheap boy‑next‑door smile and trying to make small conversation while you look him up and down, answering his questions in boredom.
and dean’s teammate logan has the audacity to leave you alone as he makes his way towards his own girl. the conversation looks innocent, but not until shorty has the audacity to put a hand on your hip, whispering something in your ear, pretending like it’s sooo loud and you just can’t hear him!!
and that’s what motivates dean to leave his drink nearby on a table and strut his way towards you as he rounds a large hand over your tummy, pulling you into his hard chest and making you relax.
the guy you’re talking to falters slightly, letting go as he gapes at him.
“hey man, saw your game last night—” he blabbers, but dean could not care less, using his free hand as he tilts your chin to his smirking face while you grin at him.
not long before he brands his lips and tongue on you, you struggle to kiss him back.
the frat guy is long forgotten, melting away into the background as dean deepens the kiss. your hands find purchase on his shoulders, gripping the firm muscle through his shirt as you press closer.
you’re drunk on his scent.
he’s drunk on your mouth.
shamelessly, he takes full advantage, pressing open‑mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. his hand continues its journey upward until he reaches the knot of your top, his fingers toying with the strings.
“dean,” you whisper, a half‑hearted protest as your body arches into his touch.
he smirks against your skin. “what? just making sure it’s secure. can’t have you flashing everyone now, can we?” but his fingers continue to tease the knot, not quite untying it but definitely testing its strength.
you hear a loud “get a room!” and you both know it’s one of his idiot friends, but he doesn’t even care as he grins into you.
your own hands begin to explore, sliding down his chest to the hem of his shirt. you slip beneath it, your fingers tracing the ridges of his abs while balancing your drink on the other hand.
dean groans into your mouth at your touch, his hips pressing forward instinctively.
“maybe we should find somewhere more private hmm,” he suggests between kisses, though he makes no move to pull away.
you’re about to agree when someone bumps into you, breaking the moment. you both look up to find a drunk girl apologizing profusely before stumbling away. the spell broken, dean takes your hand.
“come on,” he says, his eyes gleaming with desire. “we’re getting outta here.”
who knew dean di laurentis. famous party boy was so desperate to leave a party.
Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🧸
oooh not really an author is i like short cutesy stuff but here we go:
perks of having a girl . . . (ft. aaron hotchner)
permission to need me . . . (ft. aaron hotchner)
kissing with cold lips . . . (ft. rafe cameron)
tying reader to the bed . . . (ft. rafe cameron)
and yeah <3 just saw your version btw if it was up to me i would’ve written a whole essay just cuz you got way too many bangers 🌺
OLIVIA DEAN ⋮ THE ART OF LOVING — LONDON (© katie.oco on tiktok)
there used to be things to watch on youtube
