#✦ him. who is love itself ~ (💌)

[gengernoway]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀limerencial

limerencial ;; a neogender umbrella term based on " Limerence ", a state of mind which is an overwhelming longing for emotional reciprocation from somebody else. limerencine beings might also feel connected to the following concepts: obsessive love, stalkers/stalking, obsession in general, erotomania, overwhelming and unexpected feelings and a devastating distance between oneself and the object of their affection.

general terminology :

limerencity – equivalent of femininity/masculinity. limerencine – the equivalent of feminine/masculine. translimere – term for transitioning to limerencial without any other identity involved. LIMIN – limerencial in nature. stalker – man/woman equivalent of limerencial.

attraction terms :

LIM4LIM / distancian – limerencial loving limerencial. stalkee – a limerencial crush. farfriend – the equivalent of girlfriend/boyfriend. obsesonaire – limerencial partner. stalkmate – limerencial spouse.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀tagging : @radiomogai @telephone-blights

ids in alt. :^) link to iwc in question.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - NINE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of leukemia; death; pregnancy; abortion.

💌MASTERLIST

Rafe had been through a ton of traumatic bullshit by the age of fourteen. 

His mom had been battling leukemia since he was ten, it started off as an infection—but it turned into one of those long, drawn-out wars that tricks you into thinking there’s hope when there isn’t.

It would go away for a bit, just enough to make everyone think the fight was over, and then it’d come slamming back worse every time.

When he was fourteen, it finally took her for good, when he’d been silly enough to believe she might pull through. 

To be fair, he was only a little kid waiting on a miracle, praying she’d wake up one day magically cured.

Now, when he looked back on it, he hated himself for being so naive. The signs had been there all along, the nurses whispering in the hallways, Ward turning into this void of a human, who looked at him like he didn’t know how to fix it anymore. The talks his mom would have with him about how “no matter what happens, you’ll be okay.”

That phrase haunted him for years.

Her death didn’t wreck him; it tore him apart and left him in tiny pieces that didn’t fit together the same way. He wasn’t the same kid afterward, not even close.

He got angrier, distant. 

He didn’t recognize who he’d been before it all—some kid who really believed in happy endings.

He didn’t believe in much after she died, people let you down, life ripped everything good out of your hands. Why bother holding on to anything at all?

It wasn’t just the grief; it was the guilt.

He’d get mad at her, sometimes, for being sick. He’d slam his door and cry into his pillow because he just wanted a normal life, a mom who wasn’t always tired or in pain or hooked up to some machine.

He hated himself for that. 

The day of her funeral, he remembered everything, even though he wished he didn’t. The church smelled like old wood and lilies, that smell that never left you once it sank in.

People kept coming up to him, patting his shoulder, saying things like, “She’s in a better place now,” or “Stay strong, buddy.” 

He wanted to yell at them, shake them, make them shut up. She wasn’t in a better place. A better place would’ve been here, alive, laughing at his dumb jokes, or rolling her eyes at him for leaving his shoes in the hallway. It wouldn’t be six feet under, locked in a box, shoved into a hole in the ground like she never existed.

He didn’t cry, not when they opened the casket for everyone to say their final goodbyes, not when his dad stood up and choked through some half-assed speech that was mostly apologies and memories, not when they lowered her into the ground, the ropes creaking as her casket disappeared into the earth. 

He just stood there, hands in his pockets, staring straight ahead, as if he wasn’t even present. Inside, though?

His his chest was on fire. 

He refused to let even a single tear fall, it felt pointless, it wasn’t going to bring her back. It wasn’t going to fix anything. And deep down, he thought he didn’t deserve to cry, if he’d been stronger if he’d prayed harder, or been a better son, she’d still be alive.

The sound he remembered the most was the thud of dirt hitting the coffin after the service. It was final, loud, the earth itself mocking him. People around him sniffled, hugged each other, wiped at their eyes, but Rafe just stood there, staring down into the hole, fists buried in his pockets until his nails dug into his palms. 

He kept thinking about how wrong this all was, this wasn’t where she was supposed to end up, and none of this was fair.

She should’ve been there.

She should’ve been standing next to him, arm around his shoulder, telling him to stop slouching, whispering something to make him laugh in the middle of all this sadness. Instead, she was in there, soon the dirt would cover it up, and that’d be it. 

Gone. Just like that.

After the service, Rafe didn’t try to stick around for the house gathering, he wasn’t going to survive that. All those people crowding the living room, balancing paper plates of casserole, acting like they gave a fuck about his mom. It was fake, all of it. 

They’d forget about her in a week.

He slipped out when no one was paying attention, cutting through the side yard and heading to the only place that felt halfway normal—the old skate park behind the rec center. It was run-down as fuck, but he and his friends used to hang out there all the time, sitting on the busted ramps, talking trash, or just doing nothing.

When he got there, it was empty, which was exactly what he wanted. He climbed up on the old half-pipe, sitting cross-legged with his elbows on his knees, staring at the cracked pavement below. 

He couldn’t stop replaying the day in his head, the casket, the dirt, the stupid better place comments. His chest felt like it was breaking in a million tiny pieces, but he still couldn’t cry, his body just wouldn’t let him. 

Instead, he just sat there, wishing the world would leave him alone for five minutes.

That’s when he heard footsteps behind him.

He thought about running—didn’t need anyone seeing him like this, especially not now. But then you spoke.

“Figured I’d find you here.”

He didn’t look at you right away, just exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah? Well, congrats. You win the prize.” 

He wasn’t in the mood to be nice, even to you.

But you didn’t flinch, you never did. That’s one of the things he liked about you—you didn’t get scared off when he got like this. You just climbed up next to him and sat down. 

You didn’t try to say all that comforting bullshit people had been feeding him all day, and he was grateful for that.

“You okay?” you asked eventually.

He snorted. “Do I look okay?”

"Sorry, stupid question."

He sighed, hating that he was being asshole to his best friend, "It's fine."

When he finally glanced at you, you were watching him, trying to figure out what to say. It made him nervous, the way you looked at him. You always did that—you cared about what was going on in his head, you saw more than what he let people see.

“I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I know what you’re feeling,” you said finally. “But you don’t have to do this alone, Rafe. You know that, right?”

If only you knew what you would be going through just three short years later.

He wanted to snap at you, tell you to leave, he was fine, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he just stared down at the pavement again, “Feels like I do.”

You didn’t say anything, just moved closer, close enough that your arm brushed against his. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him feel…something, less alone.

Rafe didn’t know how long you both sat there, could’ve been ten minutes, could’ve been an hour. Time didn’t feel real anymore, you didn’t push him to talk, which he appreciated more than he’d ever admit, you didn’t throw out any of those awkward “it’ll get better” lines. You just sat with him. 

“You can talk to me, you know.” 

He shook his head without looking at you. “There’s nothing to say.” His voice was rough, flat. “She’s gone. That’s it.”

“You don’t have to pretend like it doesn’t suck."

He clenched his jaw, staring at the pavement like if he looked at you, everything would break.

“What’s the point?” he muttered. “Crying’s not gonna change anything. It’s not gonna—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, trying to force it back.

“Rafe.” You sighed, and this time “You don’t have to hold it together for anyone, okay? It’s me.”

That broke him, actually broke him. His chest felt tight, suddenly he couldn’t keep it in.

His breath hitched, his shoulders shook, and before he knew it, tears were sliding down his face. He tried to stop it, to hide it, scrubbing his hands over his face, but it was no use.

“Shit,” he choked out, his voice cracking once more.

“Hey, hey,” you said quickly, and before he could pull away or do something stupid like tell you to leave, you scooted over.

He froze for a second, unsure what to do, but then he remembered the funeral, the whispers, the dirt hitting the casket, all the things he couldn’t stop thinking about—he just let it all out.

The first sob ripped out of him so suddenly it startled him, he hunched over, elbows on his knees, hands gripping his hair, as if he could physically stop himself from breaking. But it didn’t work.

Another sob followed, and then another, and soon they were pouring out of him—loud, messy, completely out of his control. He couldn’t stop it, and he hated it.

He leaned into you, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, and just cried. When he felt your arms instantly wrap around him, pulling him into a hug as if you’d been waiting for his permission, he shattered completely.

“She’s—” His voice caught in his throat, and he had to stop, gasping for air as the tears kept coming. “She’s gone. She’s gone, and I—” He broke off.

It was ugly and loud and nothing like how he’d pictured himself breaking down, but he didn’t care. You didn’t tell him it’d be okay or try to make him stop, just held him, your arms tight around him. 

“I miss her,” he whispered, his voice so small it barely sounded like him. “I miss her so much, and I—I don’t know what to do.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried like this, and part of him hated how exposed it made him feel. He hated crying in front of people—anyone. But right now, with you, he didn’t feel embarrassed. 

“I know,” you nodded, your hand moving in small circles on his back. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I—” he choked out, his voice breaking. “I can’t—this isn’t—it’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” you didn’t want to scare away the fragile pieces of him that were finally surfacing. “It’s not fair. None of it is.”

He couldn’t stop shaking or gasping for breaths that hitched in his chest. The more he tried to push it all backdown, the harder it fought to claw its way out. For years, he’d kept it buried—buried so deep he thought he’d never have to deal with it.

“I hate it,” he managed, the words tumbling out in a jagged mess. “I hate that she’s gone. I hate that I didn’t—” He stopped, gripping his hair harder. “I didn’t do enough. I should’ve been better, done something—anything.”

“Stop. You can’t do that to yourself.”

He shook his head violently, “But I did. I gave up on her. I stopped believing she’d get better, I—I got mad at her for being sick. What kind of son does that? I didn’t even say goodbye the way I should’ve. I just—I left the hospital because I couldn’t take it anymore, and then she—” His voice cracked again, and his hands dropped from his hair to his lap, clenched into fists “She’s gone, and I left. I wasn’t there when she—” His breath hitched, and he buried his face in his hands.

“You’re a kid. It’s not your fault, okay? None of this is.”

“But it feels like it is,” he shot back, “I should’ve done something, anything. I just feel so—” He stopped, letting out a shaky exhale. “Empty. Like nothing I do matters anymore.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The way you said it, so certain—He didn’t know why, but it cut through the noise in his head just enough to let him breathe again.

“I don’t know how to keep going,” he admitted, “I don’t know how t-to live without her.”

Growing up, Rafe had always been a momma’s boy. 

She was his safe place—the one person who didn’t make him feel like he had to be someone else. With her, he didn’t have to try so damn hard to be tough, or perfect, or whatever the hell his dad wanted him to be. 

Ward wasn’t the kind of dad who let his kids cry on his shoulder or told them he loved them every day. No, Ward was the kind of dad who believed in rules.

Men didn’t cry. Men didn’t show weakness. Men didn’t mess up—or, if they did, they sure as hell didn’t admit it.

He expected Rafe to follow those rules like they were gospel.

The worst part? His rules about what it meant to be a man stuck with Rafe, even when he didn’t want them to. When his mom got sick, he found himself choking back tears in the hospital bathroom, staring at his reflection and hearing Ward’s voice in his head: “Crying doesn’t solve anything. You’ve gotta be strong, for her, for your sisters.”

He had this idea in his head of what Rafe was supposed to be—strong, dependable, successful. He didn’t yell or lose his temper like some dads back then, he just made him feel like shit in this fucked up way.

Rafe tried, shit, he’d tried, but it felt impossible.

Every time he looked at his mom, pale and tired but still managing to smile at him like he was her whole world, he felt like he was dying too, then he’d feel guilty—for being so weak, for wanting to break down when she was the one fighting for her life.

It didn’t help that Ward had always had a soft spot for Sarah. Everyone could see it, even Rafe. She was the golden child, the one who could do no wrong, the one Ward went out of his way to protect. 

If Rafe screwed up, it was a lecture or a punishment, but if Sarah did? Ward would just shake his head and say, “She’s still young. She’ll learn.”

It used to piss him off more than he wanted to admit. It wasn’t that he hated her—she was his sister, and he loved her. But how could he not resent her? He felt invisible when she got all the attention and the understanding, while he was expected to man up and deal with it.

After her funeral, things changed.

Rafe became quicker to snap, to walk away from anything that felt too hard. He was only himself around you, behind closed doors, never for preying eyes. Sarah grew colder, retreating into her own world where everything was controlled and distant.

Every time they spoke, it ended in shouting matches, slamming doors, or long stretches of silence that neither of them attempted to solve.

Except when you were there.

Ward got even colder, the grief had frozen whatever part of him used to care. He threw himself into work, making sure Sarah was okay, and barely even looked at his son. When he did, it was usually to tell him to pull it together, or to stop being so “moody.”

Rafe started to wonder if he even cared that he was falling apart, if he ever noticed the nights Rafe stayed out too late or came home smelling like booze. If he saw the way he avoided talking to him, how he flinched whenever Ward brought up his mom. But if his dad noticed, he never said anything. 

He thought it was just Rafe being Rafe—angry, unpredictable, a disappointment.

Fast forward to the present, and he hadn’t felt this helpless since that day at the funeral, not even when Ward’s died four months ago. 

You weren’t in his life anymore—hadn’t been for a while and you were possibly pregnant. 

He wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but it made sense, everything lined up with that possibility. He thought back to everything you’d been through together, the times you’d been there for him when no one else was, how you’d seen the pieces of him no one else cared to.

Now, you were having his kid—and he was hearing about it from Topper?

Rafe spent the first hour after Topper dropped the news pacing his bedroom like a caged animal, his heart wouldn’t stop racing and he felt like a ticking time bomb. 

The Rafe—the one who flew off the handle, yelled, broke things, and pushed people away—was begging to get out. But Topper’s voice kept replaying in his head, he had to act right, be calm, for your sake. To prove himself.

The problem was, that staying calm wasn’t his strong suit. 

He’d spent years burying every emotion he couldn’t control under layers of anger, and now he was supposed to sit with the hurricane in his chest and figure out how to make things right. 

For the first time in a long time, he realized he didn’t even know where to start.

That night, he locked himself in his room, ignoring his phone, his friends, everyone. None of it mattered anymore, the only thing he could think about was you—and the baby. 

He spent hours pacing, running his hands through his hair, trying to think of what the fuck he was going to say.

What was he gonna say after everything he’d put you through? After the fight, the distance, the way he’d shut you out when you’d been nothing but good to him until that point?

He sat down on the edge of his bed, head still in his hands, and let himself feel everything he’d been avoiding. The fear, the regret, the anger at himself. He thought about you—how you used to look at him like he wasn’t just a mess of a person, you’d stuck by him even when he’d given you every reason to leave.

You weren’t here anymore.

He’d pushed you so far away you hadn’t even told him about the situation yourself. Why would you anyway? He ghosted you and the next time you saw him he was with someone else. He could still see the look on your face when you saw him that night—arms slung casually around Sofia, while you sat in your car, eyes wild, you hadn’t tried to step outside, hadn’t yelled or made a scene, you simply drove off. 

It wasn’t until an hour later and terrible text message to you, that drunk and pissed at himself, he realized just how badly he’d screwed up. But by then, the damage was done, and he’d been too much of a coward to fix it. What followed was a sea of bad decisions and nights he couldn’t remember, trying to drown out the ache of losing you. 

He’d been drinking for Ward’s death until that point, now he did it for you.

Everything was catching up to him—the way he let his dad’s voice in his head drown out his own, making him let you slip through his fingers.

He didn’t deserve you—he knew that.

By sunrise, Rafe was still wide awake, sitting on the floor of his room surrounded by half-crumpled pieces of paper. He’d been trying to write down what he wanted to say to you, but everything sounded wrong. He’d never been good with words, not the kind that mattered.

He wasn’t a dad, wasn’t even close to being the kind of guy who could be a dad. 

What the fuck did he know about raising a kid? Changing diapers? Teaching someone right from wrong? Being patient? But the thought of you—of you carrying his kid—hit him differently.

At first, it had been pure panic. You hated him, what if you didn’t want him involved? What if he was just like Ward—cold, distant, always expecting too much? What if he screwed the kid up the same way he felt like he’d been screwed up? 

He pictured it without meaning to: you holding a tiny bundle in your arms, your face soft in a way he hadn’t seen in so long. A kid with your smile, your laugh—but his eyes. Or his messy hair. It scared the shit out of him.

What if she doesn’t even want to keep it?

Rafe hadn’t let himself go there at first, it was a lot to wrap his head around, the idea that there might not even be a child to fight for. 

The thought of you going through this, struggling to make a choice that he couldn’t help with, made him feel useless. 

Frustrated, he grabbed his keys and headed out, needing to clear his head. The island was silent this early, the kind of calm that used to make him feel trapped, but now, though, it was a relief. He drove aimlessly for a while, the salty air whipping through the open windows, until he found himself parked at the beach.

He didn’t know why he’d come here—well, you’d always bring him here when he spiraled. He sat there, watching the waves crash against the shore, feeling a weird sort of clarity that he hadn’t felt in months. 

Perhaps it was the silence, or the way the ocean didn’t care about all the fucking mess in his head, but something about it made him stop spiraling for a second.

He started to think about what Topper had said—not just about staying calm, but about proving to you that he still cared. That wasn’t something he could do with words alone, not after everything. He’d have to show you, he’d have to be the version of himself you used to believe in, the one who wasn’t ruled by his worst impulses.

Rafe knew the first step before he could even think about talking to you: he had to end things with Sofia. They weren’t official, but they might as well have been. 

People talked, made assumptions, and sure, he’d let them. It was easier that way—less explaining, less having to deal with the uncomfortable truth that he’d only been with her to fill the empty space you left behind. It was cruel, but at the time, he hadn’t cared. 

Sofia wasn’t you, but she was there, and more importantly, she didn’t expect anything from him. Keeping things going with her wasn’t just a bad idea; it was disrespectful. To you, to her, to himself. He couldn’t pretend he cared about her like that—not when his heart had never really left your orbit.

When he showed up at her place that morning before work, she didn’t seem surprised—not even a little. She’d seen the writing on the wall for weeks now, but tonight, seeing him standing there, just confirmed what she already knew.

She watched him like she was waiting for him to get to the point, but not impatiently—just resigned, she already knew what he was about to say.

“Can I come in?” 

She let him in without a word, she wasn’t mad, not really. If anything, she felt sad—mostly for him, a little for herself. How the fuck was he supposed to explain this without sounding like the worst person alive?

“You okay?” she asked quietly, she wasn’t being polite—she was trying to read him, figure out where this was going.

Rafe didn’t sit, didn’t take off his jacket. He stayed standing, hands shoved deep in his pockets, trying to find the words that wouldn’t make this worse. “I—” He cleared his throat. “I need to talk to you about something. 

She raised an eyebrow, her lips pressing together in a tight line. “Be honest.”

“This...this isn’t fair to you,” he started, his words tumbling out fast, “I should’ve been real with you from the start, but I wasn't," He swallowed hard, “You deserve better than me using you to forget someone else.”

Sofia didn’t say anything at first, just crossed her arms loosely, not making it easy for him, but she wasn’t making it harder, either.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this,” he continued, forcing himself to look at her. “It feels wrong and it’s not because of you. You’re great. You’ve been...you’ve been more patient with me than I deserve.”

Her lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile, one that wasn’t quite happy but wasn’t cruel either. “But you’re still in love with her.”

He didn’t know why it shocked him—Sofia had always been perceptive—but hearing her say it out loud made it real in a way it hadn’t been before.

“I—” He hesitated, but there was no point in denying it. “Yeah.”

“I knew,” She nodded like she’d been waiting for that confirmation. “I figured. I told myself it didn’t matter because—because I thought maybe you’d move on. Maybe I could help you move on. But you didn’t, and I—” She pressed her lips together, shaking her head as her arms tightened around herself.

Rafe’s brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shrugged, the movement almost casual. 

“Because I really like you,” she admitted, “I knew. The party? When you got blackout drunk after seeing her leave? Or the country club, when you nearly started a fight defending her? I know you drove her to the hospital too. I kept hoping—God, I kept hoping you’d see me, that you’d let me be enough.”

He’d known she cared—he wasn’t blind—but hearing her saying like that made him realize just how he fucked up. She wasn’t wrong. He had been trying to numb himself, to drown out the reality of losing you, and she had been the collateral damage.

He looked away, guilt twisting in his chest. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this. That wasn’t fair to you.”

“No,” she agreed, her tone firm but not unkind. “It wasn’t, but I don’t think you meant to hurt me either, you were trying to hurt yourself. It's still stupid of me to try, knowing you need to figure your shit out, but you don’t have to end things. I know what I signed up for, Rafe. I’m not asking you to choose me over her—I’m just asking you to try."

There was no anger in her voice, no bitterness—just exhaustion. It made him feel like a piece of shit because she deserved to feel angry, to lash out at him. But instead, she was still trying to give him a way out, a way to make this easier on himself.

“I’ll take whatever part of you I can get.”

It wasn’t desperate or pleading—it was resigned. She already knew the answer, but she couldn’t help saying it out loud.

Rafe shook his head, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his composure. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “You deserve someone who can give you everything. That’s not me.”

“Why not?” she pressed, her tone insistent.

“Because all of me already belongs to her,” Rafe admitted, his voice breaking at the end. “It always has, it always will.”

Sofia blinked, her lips parting slightly in surprise, but she didn’t look hurt—just...sad. She nodded slowly, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

“I hope she knows what she has, and I pray you show her," She stood up and motioning toward the door. “We both deserve better than a guy who drinks himself to death after seeing her at a party. So do you.”

Rafe didn’t move right away, unsure if he should say something more, apologize again, explain himself better. 

“Thank you,” he said finally, his voice quieter than he meant it to be.

“Don’t thank me,” she replied, “Just do better.”

“I shouldn’t have let it go on this long,” he confessed, “I just—I didn’t know how to stop.”

Her expression softened just enough to show the tiniest sliver of empathy. “For what is worth, I think she still loves you too, even if she hates you more right now.” She paused, her hand resting on the doorknob, but she didn’t turn around, “Next time, please don’t do this to someone else, and don’t do it to her again, either.”

She still loves you too, even if she hates you more right now. He wanted to believe it, needed to believe it. The faint possibility, that you might still love him, it meant he had a chance but it also meant he could screw them up even worse.

He stood slowly, “Thank you,” he repeated,“For...everything.”

She didn’t look at him, but she nodded, opening the door and holding it for him. “Take care of yourself,” she said, and it wasn’t cold or angry—just sad.

By the time he got back to his car, he knew she wasn’t wrong, about any of it. 

She hadn’t screamed or cried or made him feel like the asshole he knew he was, that made it worse. If his mom was here, she would’ve smacked him across he head for hurting two amazing women at the same time. 

He hadn’t been ready to deal with his feelings for you—not when he started whatever the fuck it was with Sofia, not when he ran into you at that party, not when he defended you at the country club.

He’d been running, hiding, trying to bury everything under distractions that only made him feel emptier.

He leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes, and for a moment, it was like he was fourteen again, sitting on the edge of his mom’s hospital bed while his mom teased him.

“Come on, sweetheart” she’d said, her voice playful, even through the weariness. “You’ve been talking about her birthday for weeks. I think you like her more than you’re letting on.”

Rafe’s head shot up, and his ears burned red. “Mooomm,” he groaned, dragging out the word, “it’s not like that, she’s my best friend.”

“She’s your pretty best friend,” she’d corrected, smiling at him in that knowing way only she could. “You’re gonna pick out something nice for her, right?”

“I already did,” he mumbled, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket and holding it out like it was some great secret. Inside was a delicate bracelet he’d saved up for, something special, something he thought you’d like.

His mom’s smile had softened, the teasing fading into something more tender. 

“She’s lucky to have you,” she’d said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Even if you are a little knucklehead sometimes.”

He’d ducked away, embarrassed but secretly pleased, tucking the box back into his pocket.

“M’m not a knucklehead,” he complained, but she just laughed, and it was one of the last times he remembered hearing her laugh like that—free, unburdened, just his mom.

“She’s a good one. You’ve got good taste.” Her smile softened, and the teasing faded into something gentler. “I hope I’m still around when you get married. I’d love to see you happy like that.”

The words were a punch he hadn’t expected. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. What could he even say to that? He wanted to argue, to tell her she would be, but the look in her eyes stopped him.

She knew. She always knew.

He just nodded, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood. “Me too.”

She squeezed his hand. “Promise me something?”

“Anything,” he said without thinking because he meant it.

“When you find that person—really find them—don’t let them go. Not for anything.”

He nodded again.

Years later, standing in a stupid fucking car alone, those words haunted him. He’d found that person, he’d had her and he’d let her go.

“God,” he muttered, the self-loathing reaching a new high, “I’m so sorry, mom.”

As terrifying as it was to think about being a dad, to think about raising a kid when he was still trying to figure out his own life… the idea of losing this chance—of losing you, or the baby, or both, for good —scared him even more.

For the first time in a long time, Rafe Cameron felt something close to hope, but it was tainted in so much fear and uncertainty, that he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

The rest of the day, he forced himself to slow down. 

He went back home, cleaned up the disaster of a room he’d been holed up in, and tried to think like a normal guy instead of a walking disaster. He even let Topper come over, though his patience for his relentless commentary wore thin fast.

“You’ve got one shot at this, dude,” Topper said, perched on Rafe’s desk like he owned the place. “If you go in there guns blazing, she’s just gonna think you’re the same old Rafe. And honestly? You can’t blame her.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue, Topper was right, as annoying as it was to admit.

He spent the evening coming up with a plan—just enough to make sure he didn’t go in blind. He practiced what he’d say in his head, pacing the kitchen while the sun sank below the horizon. Every time he started to panic, he forced himself to breathe, to remember why he was doing this.

By the time 24 hours had passed, he didn’t feel ready, but he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. The thought of you sitting somewhere, thinking he really didn’t care or that he wouldn’t step up?

That was worse than any fear he had about facing you. So he grabbed his keys, and headed out, this time, he wasn’t running away.

Rafe stood by your door, he’d gotten in the property using the gate’s code, one he’d hoped you had changed to keep him out, but you hadn’t.

He’d never been good at patience, never needed to be—not when he could push his way into anything. But this was different, you were different, always had been.

The wood under his hand was cool, in a way that pissed him off because it reminded him that there was a barrier between you and him, again, always.

He wanted to scream, kick the fucking thing down like the old Rafe would’ve, or instead use the keys you’d given him years ago. Instead, he stood there, swallowing his pride because you were worth it, even if it was tearing himself in half.

His knuckles dragged down the frame, fist clenching as if the pressure would ground him, keep him from losing his shit. He wasn’t here to fight, wasn’t here to make your life harder, no matter how much you thought he was. 

The door rattled slightly when he pressed his forehead against it, eyes squeezing shut. “Five minutes. Please.”

Nothing.

His jaw worked, teeth grinding against the words he wanted to say but couldn’t, not if he wanted you to open the door. He couldn’t do this anymore—the back-and-forth, the lies. He wasn’t sure what broke first—your resolve or the knot in his throat. 

When you didn’t answer again, he sank to sit on the porch, back against the door like he could still feel you on the other side. You were there—close enough to touch if there wasn’t this fucking door between you.

That was his fault.

He used to be the guy you’d let in without thinking twice, shit, there was a time when he didn’t need to knock.

He was in, part of your life, part of you.

Now, you were holed up, scared of him. Yeah, that ate him alive. He’d earned that fear—every cold shoulder, the slammed door, he deserved it.

He should’ve been different, been better, been someone you didn’t have to lock out. You were scared, and it killed him because it wasn’t just fear, it was him. He was the reason you didn’t feel safe enough to let the secret out, the reason your voice cracked when you told him to leave.

He had put that look in your eyes, the one he couldn’t unsee, no matter how hard he tried.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

He could almost hear you breathing, shakily, like you were preparing yourself to outlast him.

He wanted to push. Fuck, he wanted to shove the door open, make you look at him, make you tell him everything—but that was the old Rafe, he took what he wanted, and bulldozed through whatever stood in his way.

Where had that ever gotten him? Nowhere but here: on the wrong side of a door, the wrong side of you.

He exhaled, long and slow, hand falling limp to his side.

What the hell was he doing? Forcing his way in, forcing answers—that wasn’t going to fix this. It never did. You’d push harder, build the walls higher, and he couldn’t stomach the idea of you hating him more than you already did.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “I get it.”

He didn’t know if you could still hear him, perhaps you were blocking him out completely. Maybe you were curled up with your hands over your ears. He hoped you weren’t crying, though the thought twisted and turned something deep in him.

“I’m not gonna push you,” he said, hating how defeated he sounded. “You don’t owe me anything.”

He ran a hand down his face, swallowing hard, trying to keep it together.

“I just... I just want you to be okay.” He hesitated, then pressed his palm flat against the door, wishing he could reach you somehow, without scaring you, “Baby or not.”

He waited, hoping for something—a sound, a movement, anything, but the silence was absolute.

His heart clenched as he pushed off the door and took a step back, his shoes scraping against the porch. He didn’t want to leave, he never wanted to leave, but this wasn’t about what he wanted. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, almost to himself, "I'm so sorry. I’m sorry it took me this long, okay?”

He stopped halfway, looking back, hoping—praying—for some sign. A light flicking on, the sound of the door creaking open, your voice calling his name, anything.

But the house stayed still, it had already moved on from him. 

He didn’t remember deciding to drive to Poguelandia; he felt it in his gut, in the pit of his chest, this pounding certainty that Sarah knew something he didn’t. You wouldn’t tell him—but Sarah? You’d chosen her to drive you home from the hospital just a few days ago.

She was the only person that could lie to his face properly, he couldn’t fucking figure her out, she was always deflecting shit wherever they talked.

By the time he pulled up to the pogues’ little hideaway, the sky had darkened, the place lit only by the glow of string lights and the hum of voices inside. He sat in the truck for a second, staring at the house, willing himself to calm down.

Barging in—loud, pissed, impulsive—wasn’t going to get him what he needed. But fuck, it was hard not to.

He climbed out, slamming the door behind him with just enough force to feel better for half a second. The screen door creaked as he stepped up to the porch, and he could already hear them inside—Sarah’s laugh, JJ cracking some dumbass joke, the rest of them chiming in like they didn’t have a care in the world.

He hated this, hated how they all looked at him, as if he was some ticking time bomb ready to explode. They weren’t wrong.

Rafe knocked, hard and sharp, the laughter inside cut off instantly. Footsteps approached the door, hesitant. A second later, it swung open, and there she was, his sister, looking at him like he was the last person she wanted to see.

“Rafe,” she said, one hand still gripping the door. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “We need to talk.”

Her brows pulled together, suspicion creeping into her expression. “Now? Seriously?”

“Yeah, now,” he snapped, stepping closer, his voice low enough to keep from drawing the others’ attention. “Don’t make me say it in front of them.”

She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder toward the voices in the living room. “Rafe, I don’t think—”

“Don’t,” he cut her off, his tone sharper than he meant. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to soften, to keep it together. “I need you to tell me the truth.”

She glanced back again, then sighed, stepping out onto the porch and closing the door behind her. He was already pacing, hands twitching at his sides, hardly able to contain the energy inside him. 

The way she looked at him—wary, guarded—only made it worse.

“What the hell is your problem?” she asked, crossing her arms, like she was already bracing for a fight.

“My problem?” he barked out a laugh, sharp. “You really wanna play dumb right now? You’ve been keeping something from me, Sarah. I know you have.”

Her brows knit together, feigning confusion, “Dude. What’s this about? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” he hissed, stepping closer, “Don’t lie to me. I already know, okay? I know about the baby.”

She didn’t say a word, didn’t confirm a thing, just stared at him like he was some wild animal.

“Where did you get the idea that she’s pregnant?”

His mouth opened, then closed. It felt wrong to snitch on Topper when he’d been one making him pry a little more.

“Well?” she pressed, “Answer me. How did you come up with that?”

Saying it out loud felt like admitting he’d been just as reckless and intrusive as everyone expected him to be. His hand ran over his face, trying to stall.

“I didn’t just make it up.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed, her patience waning. “No shit. So where, Rafe?”

He glanced away, then back, his voice defensive. “Topper said something, okay? He heard—he thought—” Rafe stopped, knowing how weak it sounded.

 “Topper? You’re taking life advice from Topper now?”

“He didn’t mean anything by it!” Rafe was quick to defend him, “He just... he mentioned some things, and it got me thinking. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Sarah repeated, “You barged over there because Topper mentioned ‘some things’ ? Jesus Christ.”

His hands flew up in frustration. “What was I supposed to do? Pretend I didn’t hear it? Ignore it and hope it went away? I needed to know!”

“No, you didn’t,” Sarah shot back. “You wanted to know. There’s a difference, and it’s the difference that keeps getting you into this shit.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Rafe pointed a finger in his direction, “Like I’m crazy or something. I’m not stupid.”

"You’re just not worth the energy right now."

Instead of crying like he wanted to, he let out a dry laugh, pacing back and forth in front of her.

"Right. Sure. I can see it all over you, just say it."

She shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You don’t know what you’re talking about. Neither does Topper.”

“Stop lying!” His voice rose, loud enough to echo into the dark yard. “Just stop. You know something.”

Sarah’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, Rafe thought he’d finally cracked her. Except instead of giving him what he wanted, she just let out a slow breath, meeting his eyes with a steadiness that made him feel like a child fighting for his favorite toy.

“You want to know the truth?” 

“Yes,” he bit out, his chest heaving.

She stepped forward so they were only inches apart. “The truth is, you don’t deserve to know. Not yet.”

Everyone kept telling him the same thing, couldn’t they see he was already trying?

He staggered back a step. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means, that whatever you’re looking for, whatever answers you think you deserve, they’re not yours to take. Not until you can handle them without breaking everything you touch."

He flinched, her words striking something inside him, “You don’t get to decide that for me,” he said, almost desperate.

“I’m not deciding anything,” she replied, her eyes never leaving his. “You’ve spent these last few months making everything about you. Your pain, your anger, your needs.”

He glanced away, “So, what? You don’t trust me?”

Her silence was louder than anything she could have said.

“You don’t,” he murmured, the realization bitter in his mouth.

"I don’t," she agreed, “You’re still not the person she needs you to be, and until you can prove you can do that—without me, without anyone holding your hand—you’re better off not knowing.”

“I’m trying. I swear to fucking God, I’m trying. I don’t know how to fix it.”

“She’s scared you’re going to hurt her again—whether you mean to or not. You’re dating someone else, for god’s sake.”

“I ended it. This morning.”

Sarah’s eyebrows lifted slightly, “Doesn’t change the past, Rafe. And it sure as hell doesn’t make everything better overnight.”

Rafe flinched, the words sinking into him like stones. "Why the fuck do you think I’m here? I don’t want to hurt her—I can’t do anything if she won’t even talk to me."

Topper still had that number. 

You hadn’t hidden it well enough, he hadn’t done anything with it, but it was tempting. All he had to do was call, just to confirm, he told himself. Not to pry, simply to know for sure.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. This isn’t something you can force your way into. She would never forgive you, please be smart.”

His first instinct was to lash out, fire back some venom-laced retort that would sting as much as her tone. He nodded, swallowing hard.

“Okay,” He dragged a hand through his head, “I know that, I know. But I can’t just sit here, doing nothing. I need to... I need to show her I can do better. That I am better.”

“You need to crawl through hell to understand a fraction of what she’s going through; you need to stop thinking about what you want and start thinking about her.”

His hands fell to his sides, limp, the fight suck out of him. She was right—he hated that she was. This wasn’t about him anymore; it never had been.

 “What can I do?”

Her expression softened, not with forgiveness but something sadder—she wanted to believe he could. “You start by fixing yourself, then you wait. Until she’s ready, if she’s ready. You’ve got to mean that, Rafe, you screw this up again..."

"I won’t," he said firmly, cutting her off. "I can’t."

“Okay.”

“What if she’s not ready?”

He had no right to demand more.

“You keep going, keep trying. Not for her, not for anyone else—just for you.”

By the time he got back in his truck, the hurt in his body hadn’t lifted. His mom’s words echoed in his mind one more, “When you find that person, don’t let them go. Not for anything.”

Maybe that started with learning to be the person who deserved to hold on.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron

@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog

@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[lazysoulwriter]

you've GOT to be kidding me. - pedro pascal.

specially requested! thank you for sending, hope you like it, love.

---

The first time you got pregnant, it had taken months of tracking apps, fertility tests, and quiet heartbreaks. So when your daughter was born, a chubby, sleepy miracle who preferred Pedro’s chest as her pillow, you both assumed you had time. Time before thinking about a second. Time before your life shifted all over again.

So yeah, you weren’t being reckless, just… human. Tired. In love. Closer than ever. And maybe a little too confident that history wouldn’t repeat itself so fast.

Which is why now — sitting on the cold bathroom floor, face against your forearm after your third round of throwing up that week — you absolutely refuse to admit what Pedro is starting to suspect.

He kneels beside you, gently rubbing slow, grounding circles on your back. “Breathe, baby. I got you.”

You groan. “Maybe it’s a bug. Or something I ate. Or—”

Pedro interrupts softly, “When was the last time you got your period?”

You blink.

“Pedro, no.”

He laughs under his breath. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s just—! I just had a baby.”

“You had a baby three months ago,” he says gently, like he’s afraid you’ll float away if he says it too loud. “And I remember very clearly that we haven’t exactly been cautious lately.”

You bury your face in a towel. “I’m thirty-six. I’m tired. I’m breastfeeding. This shouldn’t be possible.”

He’s quiet for a second. Then you hear him murmur, almost to himself, “You’re glowing though. Just like last time.”

You stare at him.

“I threw up on your sock, Pedro.”

“Romantic,” he teases, leaning in to kiss the top of your head. “Let’s just… take a test, okay?”

You agree only to shut him up.

And that’s how you end up in your shared bathroom twenty minutes later, holding a stick with two pink lines, while your newborn daughter babbles in the background from her bassinet.

You sit down slowly on the edge of the tub, stunned.

Pedro peeks into the room, half-expecting to be scolded. “Well…?”

You hold up the test, eyes wide.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then he grins. “Oh my God.”

You shake your head, a bit dazed. “We’re insane. We’re insane people.”

He walks over, kneels in front of you again, rests his forehead against your knees. “We’re insane. And apparently very fertile.”

You burst into laughter, the kind that feels like the only possible response to this whirlwind. You’re terrified, still tired, still healing — but when his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and he kisses you like it’s the easiest thing in the world, you remember that this is your home now. This life. These two babies. This man.

Pedro looks up at you, eyes sparkling. “You think we should just keep having one every year? Start a band?”

You smack his arm. “You’re never touching me again.”

He winks. “You said that last time.”

And somehow, through the chaos, you both just start laughing. Loud and real and maybe a little scared — but together.

---

escrevi essa aqui com um sorrisinho no rosto o tempo todo, juro. obrigada demais a todas as leitoras brasileiras que tão por aqui lendo, surtando e comentando — vocês são tudo pra mim!! espero que tenham curtido esse caos romântico com o pedro tanto quanto eu curti escrever 💌

[nianeyemystic]

💕Lovergirl(boy) Astro Observations💕

These will be aspects, and placements that I've noticed in natal charts. I loooooove a real romantic, someone who yearns, is devoted & deeply feels love in all things.

Venus in Pisces 🥰

Venus in its exaltation is dreamy, romantic, and selfless in love. W this placement, you will embody unconditional love and often romanticism, and idealize your partners. The women I've seen with Venus in Pisces are literally lovers personified. They will find anyway possible to love you downnnn!

Moon in Libra💋

Libra , mm mm mm! Everyone loves a libra. With the moon here you have loves for harmony, balance, and partnership. The Moon here makes someone emotionally fulfilled by being in a loving relationship. You could feel like you're always longing for love, or wanting to be love by somebody.

Venus in the 7th House😘

The love of my life has this placement. Very ideal romantic person to be in love w . Courtship, super sweet gestures, omg & soooo charming. A real flirt too. Venus loves being in the house of partnerships,7H. Having this placement will indicates someone deeply committed to love and romantic connections, prioritizing their partner's happiness.

Neptune in the 5th House💛

This placement gives meeeee, an idealistic and almost cinematic approach to romance. Like think Movie scene, the most romantic movie you've ever seen type of romance. you might fall in love with the idea of love itself. a real lover girl/boy if you will.

Sun or Moon Conjunct Venus❤️‍🔥

Whewwww ! ✨ This aspect is almost always a loving, charming, and affectionate person. My man has this one in Capricorn & it’s so 😍🥺 he literally just loves to be so genuine & cute all the time. I melt all day long being w him. Somebody who is just all around a sweetheart, and can charm the socks off of you lol. They thrive in relationships and tend to attract love easily.

Venus in Cancer💌

Another fav of mine. This placement clearly is a nurturing, protective lover. Being in cancer, Venus will seeks emotional security and closeness in relationships. They adore being needed by their partner. Like I want to be needed by you, is a love language.

Juno in the 1st or 7th House💜

Made to be a wife, wet wife coded energy. Or husband energy. Since Juno, the asteroid of commitment and marriage, in these houses suggests someone who naturally prioritizes long-term partnerships.

Venus Trine Neptune 💞

This aspect is so damn cute to me. It creates a hopeless romantic who views love as magical and transcendent. I loveee seeing this in charts. They’re likely to idealize their partners and put their all into relationships. All or nothing type lovers.

Moon in Taurus💖

The Moon is exalted in Taurus, these natives who seeks stability, sensuality, and comfort in love. They're devoted and loyal to their partner. Grounded lover girls/boys.

Venus Conjunct Mars❤️‍🔥

Last but not least, my fav one. I have this natally & when I say love is alllll I think about. I mean it. I just love love in a sense that consumes me, it drips down my aura. You can quite literally squeeze love from outta me. Such a passionate aspect that combines love and desire. someone who puts their heart and soul into their romantic pursuits. They often have an irresistible charm and thrive on intimacy.

Do you have any of these ? What does love do to you?

@nianeyemystic

[vampzity]

pussy drunk! han jisung who can’t get enough of you. He wants you all to himself, but he doesn’t wanna push you to commit if it’s not something you want.

He loves inviting you to his apartment—especially when he’s making music. He tends to do it on purpose so that you can bug him about giving you attention. And boy, he can’t resist it when you beg like that; eyes all pouted and cheeks flushed from the heat inside of you.

You got out of bed, standing behind him and watching as he worked diligently. You sighed, moving his things out of the way and sitting yourself onto his desk. Han tried to act shocked, but in his mind this is exactly what he wanted— a bold reaction out of you.

Your hand ruffled his hair softly as you pulled him loser to your waist. He brought his hands up your sides, lifting your shirt softly as he placed soft kisses against your stomach. He tugged at your underwear, his kisses trailing to the band. He glanced at you, your pleading eyes meeting his own as he pulled them down. They dropped to the floor as you spread your legs once again, revealing your glistening cunt before him.

“Look how pretty you are baby.”

He spread your folds with his thumb, running it against your clit softly. You threw your head back in response, breath hitched as he played with you.

“Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to play with you?”

You nodded feeling your body heat up under his touch. He leaned over, lapping at your juices as his thumb swirled around your bud. You tasted so sweet, it was as if he was thirsty for a taste of you.

You whimpered softly as his tongue worked you, his lips pressing against your clit as he sucked on it. His tongue flicked your bud quickly, giving you an overwhelming feeling of pleasure. His eyes pierced into your skin as he watched you fall apart, but he couldn’t stop now. You tasted so good, he craved more of you. He was infatuated— drunk in you.

“You like that princess?” he stuck two fingers into you, pumping them slowly as they curled against your sweet spot.

A soft moan escaped your lips, your legs spreading farther to allow more access for him. His tongue ran itself across your folds, swirling around your sensitive bud hungrily. His pace sped up as he felt your back arch above him, desperate to make you finish.

“Taste so good on my tongue.”

You gripped at his brown locks, only pushing him further into your cunt. He made a mess out of your clit, fingers still pushing further into you with every second. He was in deep— so deep he stuck in another finger, feeding off your whines and cries. Three fingers were too much— which was crazy when you adjust to his dick just as easily.

“Oh don’t be like that.” you squirmed on the desk, your moans becoming uncontrollable.

“Take it like a good girl for me.”

Your walls spasmed around his fingers as he fucked them into you, his tongue flicking at your bud. Within seconds you came undone, your juices spilling out into his mouth. His chin dripped in your arousal, but he got every last drop he could as if he wouldn’t get anything else for months.

He sat back in his seat, watching your soaked cunt drip onto his desk.

“So,” he pressed his thumb against your bud, making you jump at how sensitive you were. You met his hooded eyes, a tint of lust coloring them.

“Gonna let me stuff this pretty thing with my cock next?”

💌: this was a spur of the moment thing.. munch han gotta be one of my favorite genres, gimme 14 of em stat!!!!

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @h4untedgrl @rvereri @jjongibears @kittykat-25 @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @joonezra @honeyhwaaa @potentialgay @dollywoo @losrpark @motherseonghwa23 @inniesfanblog @stephanieeeyang @galaxy4489 @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub @katsukis1wife @unbel1ev4ble @sojuxxi @bbykaixx @felixleftchickennugget @gncbnahc @jwnghyuns @kjr-army @tahiraax1 @wonderz_real @noxonexherexbotherxmyxteaxtime @hyunmikim @lov3yv4mps @jujusreader @heechwe @bluesungology @minhosgirlposts

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[goldenroutledge]

don’t you remember

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

prompts: ❛ you don’t have to keep me company, i’m fine by myself. ❜ & ❛ can you look at me? please? ❜

summary: running into charles at your favorite spot might be fate’s way (or leo’s way) of bringing you back together.

warning(s): some angst but a happy ending!

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

You don’t miss Charles Leclerc.

You don’t miss the constant travel, the way he softly snores on planes, how his head used to rest against your shoulder, subconsciously finding comfort in your presence even in his sleep.

You don’t miss his curt, one word responses when words got sharp and petty arguments grew between you. You don’t miss his forgetfulness, his habit of brushing the important things under the rug, knowing that you’ll still be there to deal with them later. Once upon a time, his carelessness endeared you, like when he’d kiss you no matter who was watching. That trait of his ultimately turned against you.

You don’t miss the sound of him practicing piano, at any hour day or night. You don’t miss the way he poured his heart out to the piano and saved nothing for you.

Nor do you miss the pitter patter of Leo’s paws through the halls when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, curling up at the foot of your bed. Okay, maybe you do miss that a little bit.

You don’t miss how after standing by Charles for years, cheering him on from the start, his one true love means more to him than you ever could; having a real shot at claiming the World Driver’s Championship. It’s the only prize he could keep his eyes on, one that you could never compare yourself to, knowing that achievement would be larger than life for him. Everything, and everyone else, coming in second place.

That’s exactly why you couldn’t spare any more time denying the obvious. Months were spent convincing yourself that it was the right decision, reassured by the common saying that people either grow apart or they grow together. The breakup might have been sudden, but you’d grown so far apart that he was out of your reach, and you had grown out of his. Each of your paths had no intersection in sight.

It’s what led you to bail on him at the last minute, deciding to randomly stay home instead of accompanying your boyfriend to a race weekend. Charles had mastered the art of avoiding tough conversations; you’d only done the same. It didn’t break your heart any less knowing that Charles and Leo would arrive home to an empty apartment come Monday.

Sure the furniture, the decorations, the art work, his beloved grand piano… the material things remained. However your clothes, your belongings, your pictures, your presence, it was all gone. Any trace of the years you’d spent together, gone as if they never existed in the first place. If Charles wanted space, this was the only way you knew how to give it to him. Maybe, just maybe, he’d come to regret it.

Seeing his family around has been hard. His beloved mom and brothers now hesitate to rush to your side and talk to you like they used to. They might smile out of habit, recognizing your familiar face before they remember what’s happened between you and Charles. Like the flick of a light switch, you were strangers, despite once upon a time being embraced as a member of their close-knit family.

Social media doesn’t serve much of a purpose for you these days. Your friends understand that being tagged in countless fan edits and gossip posts about your breakup has got to burn. If the breakup itself wasn’t wounding enough, you’re forced to relive it with each notification. Embracing the new routine has been good for you, offering stability that life with Charles simply couldn’t-

You drop your pen, pausing from writing in your journal as the incessant barking of a dog interrupts your train of thought. The sound grows louder with each one.

You take one glance of your surroundings, and that’s when you see him. Leo Leclerc, barreling towards you as quickly as his little legs can take him. He’s now the reason your face lights up in the midst of a rather torturous journaling session.

“Leo! What are you doing over here?” You can’t help but pet him. His tongue hangs out of his mouth and his abandoned leash drags against the grass beneath him.

You then realize that if Leo got away, Charles must not be too far. You hope it’s his assistant taking the dog for a walk today. Then again, your quiet hideout spot is along one of Charles’ favorite trails to run. The hair on the back of your neck stands up when you hear the sound of his voice, calling Leo’s name in hopes that he’ll reappear.

Leo, none the wiser, gives kisses to your exposed skin and barks out in excitement. You cringe, knowing that Charles definitely isn’t too far away after hearing the familiar sound.

He rounds the corner, and upon spotting his dog, Charles is more relieved than anything else. “Leo! There you-,” …Until he sees who Leo ran off to find in the first place. “Y/n? Is that you?”

You wave politely, still trying to calm Leo down from his burst of enthusiasm. “Hi, Charles.”

“I, uhh, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Makes two of us. Looks like Leo had other ideas.”

Charles smiles, approaching slowly as if he’s intruding on the moment. “You scare me when you run off like that.” He mumbles to Leo, catching his own breath as he was clearly in the midst of a workout. “I’m sorry, he still hasn’t learned much about obedience.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Your words are melancholy, and you try to keep the smile on your face despite knowing this will probably be the last time you see either of them. Unless this happens again, of course. Talk about irony. It’s almost as if Charles was summoned here as you were writing about him. You close the journal with haste, hoping Charles didn’t see his name clearly written at the top. “I guess Leo’s not as over me as you are.”

You regret saying the words immediately after they come out. Heat rises to your cheeks, luckily the sun is partially to blame. Charles’ expression hardens, unsure of what to say or do. “You have no idea what this has been like for me, finding that note on your nightstand, telling me you were leaving.”

“Forget it, Charles. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, whatever you may think, it could not be farther from the truth.” Instead of bidding you adieu, leaving this awkward moment for your memory to replay before you fall asleep tonight, he sits down beside you. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened between us, trying to understand how it happened in the first place. Can you just tell me why you did it? Or tell me what I did to cause it?”

You shrug. “People grow apart, Charles. Nothing lasts forever.”

He laughs bitterly. “Glad to see you’ve turned so cynical. Me too.”

“Not cynical, just realistic. Our breakup has helped me realize a lot of things, actually.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s probably time to move to a bigger place, for one. Where I don’t run into my ex at my favorite sitting spot.” Charles freezes like a deer in headlights, until you nudge his arm with your elbow. “Relax, I’m just kidding. Kind of.”

“And you still have jokes. Good to know.”

Leo has calmed down and snuggled up between you and Charles. By the looks of it, he’s dozing off into an afternoon nap. Your heart warms at the sight of him, and though he’s just a dog, you can imagine that he’s feeling content between the two people that adopted him.

“You can come see him anytime, you know.”

“And that’s not just a ploy to get me back into your apartment?”

“You mean our apartment? It used to be yours too.”

“Exactly, used to be.”

“But it doesn’t have to be like that anymore. We can work it out, we can talk about everything that brought us here. Will you give us that chance?”

Your heart pangs with sadness at the reminder that this is all an illusion. Charles isn’t yours anymore, neither is Leo. He can feel your mood change at the mention of your old life together, and the distance that’s wedged itself between you now. “On second thought, you don’t have to keep me company, I’m fine by myself. You should get back to your workout, Charles.”

Absent-mindedly, you doodle on a blank page, hoping it will convince him you’re too busy for this. There’s no way he can let this conversation fall between his fingers. “Well, I need to rehydrate. So I’m staying.”

“Still stubborn, I see.”

“We spent years together, Y/n. You can’t tolerate me for more than five minutes?”

“You know what Charles? I wanted to be nice, to try to extend some kind of olive branch of friendship but I don’t think I can. We ended things for a reason and we can’t be friends.”

“Ended things? You mean, when you fled our apartment in the middle of the night?”

“Spare me. Things were long over between us. You just never had the balls to end it officially. Or at least wish me a good rest of my life.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n, but you don’t know what you’re talking about. Leo still sits by the door waiting for you. I must be some kind of idiot because I listen for the door, too. Hoping that one day maybe you’ll walk through it and come back home to us.”

“There is no home for me to come back to, Charles.” You mumble, but he’s insistent on finishing everything he’s been wanting to say to you since you left.

“And as for reaching out, you don’t know how badly I have wanted to. How close I have been to pressing send on some things I probably shouldn’t say, but do you know what stops me?”

“What stops you?”

“The thought of you carrying on, of being happy, maybe being happy with someone else who can give you everything you want. I never wanted to impose on your life because you made it clear that you don’t want me there anymore.”

“Are you insane? That’s not what happened at all! You ‘left’ me so you wouldn’t feel guilty about choosing your career anymore. I left because I didn’t want there to be a choice at all. You say that I left you, but it was mutual. You left me first.”

“Well, I was wrong. I could feel us growing apart and I didn’t do anything to stop it.” Charles shakes his head. “But Y/n, if I knew this is where we would end up, I would change everything. I should’ve never let you let me go. I should’ve fought.” You stay still, ignoring a tear that slips down your cheek and splatters onto the hardcover of your journal. “Y/n, can you look at me? Please?”

Leo’s woken up from the sound of Charles’ voice, alarmed at the distress in his dad’s voice, and the sadness radiating from his mom that he hasn’t seen in far too long. You lean down to kiss the daschund’s head before standing up.

“I should go.”

The dog is quick to follow you, and his cries are unmistakable, as if begging you to stay. Poor Leo never did anything to you. It’s a shame that he suffers from the decisions you and Charles made.

“If you won’t stay for me, will you stay for him?” Charles calls out, finally out of options now that he’s said what’s been weighing on his chest. He walks towards you and takes your free hand in his to stop you. His eyes share a similar look to your own, betting it all on one last plea.

“I can’t change the past. I can’t apologize enough for my mistakes. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel for me anymore, I will let you go. I will wish you a good rest of your life and never bother you again if that’s what you want.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because I love you, mon chéri. I always have and I always will. And if you decide to walk away, just promise me you won’t forget that.”

You nod, still teary-eyed. “Fine. I won’t.”

“So what’s it gonna be? Do we have to say goodbye?”

“It’s going to take time, Charles.” You look down at the ground, focusing on Leo walking around you.

Charles’ eyes have watered, and you resist the urge to engulf him into a hug. “However long it takes, I’ll be here. I can’t lose you.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You are. You’ve always been there for me, even when I don’t deserve it.” Charles takes a deep breath, composing himself. “But that’s going to change. I’m going to be someone who deserves you.”

You smile softly. “You’re not so bad, Charles. For what it’s worth, I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I never wanted to lose you either.”

Charles beams at you with hope in his eyes. He wants to hold you, to remind himself that you’re here in front of him after all this time, but he stops himself.

Instead, you take him into your arms, reveling in his familiar embrace. He wraps his arms around you, and his chest feels lighter. “Thank you.” He murmurs into your ear, wishing the moment to last forever.

You both chuckle as below you, Leo barks happily and wags his tail ferociously. “Me? You should be thanking him. If he hadn’t run off and found me here, we would’ve never ran into each other. We got Parent-Trapped by our dog.”

Charles leans down to pick Leo up, sighing in contentment as he looks between you two with admiration. “I guess we did, didn’t we?”

“But something tells me we were always meant to find our way back to each other. Isn’t that right, Leo?”

Leo barks at the sound of his name, confirming what you’ve both known all along; some things are just meant to be.

💌: thanks for reading! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! feel free to request more from my be my valentine blurb event

taglist: @marjorieswrld (add yourself here!)

[fruvittea]

"he's just a gryffindor"

💌﹒→﹒gryffindor!jungwon x hufflepuff!reader (harry potter au) ﹒ ﹒ ♪

— genre: fantasy, slow burn, romance

— word count: 3.1k+

— warnings? none;  reader is afab + mention of yunjin from le serrafim

— synopsis: At Hogwarts, reader, a Hufflepuff student, finds herself drawn to Jungwon, a Gryffindor, during a Care of Magical Creatures class where they’re paired to care for Nifflers. And for some reason Jungwon just stays in her life, finding her in the library or even in the dining hall. As the Yule Ball nears, Jungwon invites reader to the dance. During the night of the Yule Ball the two enjoy each other’s company as their relationship blossoms into something more.

— author's note: gosh i just love making fics with jungwon in any school setting LOL, they always turn out so cute >_< anyways enjoy !! and if you have any requests feel free to put it in my inbox :)

want to read more? check out fruvittea's enhypen masterlist: click here !!

The crisp autumn air swept through the open ground of Hogwarts, rustling the golden and scarlet leaves scattered around the stone pathways. You adjusted your scarf, tucking it tighter against the wind as you made your way to the Care of Magical Creatures paddock. Having your common room close to the kitchens made it much more difficult to get to your classes all the way across campus. And now you were running late. Today’s lesson was a joint class with Gryffindors, a combination that usually promised chaos. You weren’t sure what was worse—the rambunctious Gryffindors or the Nifflers Professor Hagrid had promised would make an appearance.

In the nick of time you reached the paddock, Hargid hadn’t rounded up the class yet. AS you fixed your uniforms you spotted the telltale messy black hair of Yang Jungwon, Gryffindor’s golden boy. He was standing near a group of his housemates, grinning widely as they laughed at something he’d said. You tried not to look too long, but it was difficult not to notice him. He had a natural charisma that seemed to draw everyone in, his laughter infections even from a distance. 

“All right, settle down, everyone,” Hagrid called, his booming voice cutting through the chatter. “We’ve got a special test today. You’ll be working in pairs to care for a Niffler. They’re cheeky little devils, so you’ll need to keep an eye on ‘em.”

You swallowed nervously. Working in pairs meant you’d be stuck with a Gryffindor for the next hour, and knowing your luck, it wouldn’t be one of the quieter ones.

“Let’s pair up then!” Hagrid announced, waving his massive hand to gesture for the students to group together. 

You stood there watching as classmates mingled and sat down together. you were unsure of who to approach, when a familiar voice piped up behind you. “Looks like we’re partners.”

Turning around you found yourself face-to-face with Jungwon. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement, and his scarf was loosely draped around his neck, the crimson and gold clashing beautifully against his warm complexion. 

“Oh. Okay,” you managed, your voice quieter than you intended. “Let’s do this, then.” 

He grinned adjusting his scarf. “Try to keep up, Hufflepuff. Nifflers aren’t exactly known for being cooperative.”

You bristled at his teasing tone but bit back a retort. Instead, you focused on the small, mischievous created that Hargid placed in your hands. the Niffler’s tiny class dug into your glove as it sniffled around, its beady eyes darting towards Jungwon’s pocket. 

“Careful,” you warned, shifting the Niffler slightly. “It’s eyeing your pocket. Did you bring anything shiny?”

Jungwon smirked. “What kind of student would I be if I did?” He pulled a golden Galleon from his pocket and held it up, hte coin catching the sunlight. The Niffler’s attention snapped to it instantly, and before you could react, it launched itself out of your hands and straight towards him. 

“Whoa!” Jungwon stumbled backwards as the Niffler clung to his robe, scrabbling at his pocket. You stifled a laugh as your reached out to help, carefully prying the creature away. 

“You’re not making this any easier,” you said, your tone laced with amusement.

“And you’re supposed to be the patient one,” he shot back, though there was no malice in his words. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying the banter. 

The next hour passed in a blur of chaos and laughter. The Niffler’s antics kept you both on your toes, darting from one shiny object to the next. At one point, it disappeared into Jungwon’s bag, emerging triumphantly with a handful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“I don’t even know how those got in there,” he muttered, earning a chuckle from you.

By the time Hagrid called the class to a close, you were exhausted but oddly energized. Jungwon was leaning against the paddock fence, his hair slightly disheveled and a faint flush on his cheeks. He looked at you with a crooked grin.

“Not bad, Hufflepuff. You might actually have some Gryffindor in you.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “And you might have a little Hufflepuff. You were surprisingly gentle with the Niffler.”

“Surprising? I’m hurt,” he teased, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

Professor Hagrid dismissed the class and the adventures with the Nifflers came to an end. You thought your interactions with Jungwon would come to an end but before you left the room Jungwon caught up with you. The walk back to the castle was filled with easy conversation, much to your own surprise. Jungwon had a way of making you feel comfortable, even as he teased you relentlessly. By the time you parted ways in the Great Hall, you found yourself looking forward to your next Care of Magical Creatures lesson more than you cared to admit.

The following weeks brought more unexpected encounters. Whether it was passing him in the corridors or running into him during shared classes, Jungwon seemed to pop up everywhere. And each time, he greeted you with the same teasing grin and lighthearted banter.

One particularly chilly afternoon, you found yourself in the library, poring over a book on magical creatures for an essay. The familiar scent of parchment and ink surrounded you, and you were just beginning to lose yourself in the text when a shadow fell over your table.

“Studying? On a Saturday?” Jungwon’s voice broke your concentration. 

You looked up to see him standing there, his arms crossed and a playful smirk on his face. “Some of us care about our grades,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, sliding into the seat across from you. “Looking for you, apparently. You left your scarf at the paddock yesterday.”

Your eyes widened as he pulled the yellow-and-black scarf from his bag and placed it on the table. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “So, what’s the essay on?”

Against your better judgment, you found yourself explaining the assignment. Jungwon listened attentively, occasionally interjecting with a joke or question that made you laugh despite yourself. Before long, what had started as a quiet afternoon of studying turned into a surprisingly enjoyable conversation.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow through the library windows, you realized you hadn’t written a single word of your essay. Jungwon seemed to notice, too, because he stood up with a sheepish grin.

“Guess I’ve distracted you enough for one day,” he said. “Good luck with the essay, Hufflepuff.”

“Thanks,” you said, watching as he walked away. For a moment, you thought he might look back, but he didn’t. As you turned back to your book, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Gryffindors weren’t so bad. 

-

The weeks following your unexpected partnership with Jungwon passed in a haze of routine and subtle anticipation. You’d find yourself scanning the Great Hall during breakfast or lingering just a little longer in the corridors, hoping to run into him. To your surprise—and slight annoyance—he always seemed to catch you off guard, his sharp wit and easy charm leaving you flustered more often than you’d care to admit.

It was late November when the snow began to blanket the castle grounds, transforming Hogwarts into a winter wonderland. Students bundled up in their house scarves, laughter echoing through the corridors as everyone prepared for the upcoming Yule Ball. It was all anyone could talk about, and despite your best efforts, the excitement was contagious.

You were heading to the greenhouses for Herbology when you heard a familiar voice call out behind you.

​​“Hey, Hufflepuff! Wait up!”

You turned to see Jungwon jogging toward you, his Gryffindor scarf askew and his cheeks pink from the cold. His smile was as bright as ever, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“You know I have a name, right?” you teased, though your tone lacked any real bite.

“Of course it's Y/n,” he said, falling into step beside you. “But ‘Hufflepuff’ just suits you better. So, have you picked your Yule Ball date yet?”

The question caught you off guard, and you stumbled slightly on the icy path. “What? No! I mean… I haven’t really thought about it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Come on, the whole school’s buzzing about it. Don’t tell me you’re not the least bit curious who’s going to ask you.”

You felt your face heat up and quickly looked away. “I’m more focused on my classes, thanks. Unlike some people, I don’t have time to obsess over a dance.”

Jungwon laughed, a sound that sent a warm flutter through your chest despite the chilly air. “You know for being so into your classes I would think you were a Ravenclaw but fair enough. Although if you need a last-minute partner, you know where to find me.”

“Is that your way of asking me?” you shot back, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation.

“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “Or maybe I just like keeping you on your toes.”

Before you could respond, he gave you a quick wave and disappeared down a side path, leaving you standing there with a mix of confusion and something you couldn’t quite place.

“What the hell.” You muttered under your breath as you continued your walk to Herbology.

-

The days leading up to the Yule Ball were a whirlwind of preparations. Your dormitory buzzed with activity as your housemates tried on dresses and robes, debating hairstyles and accessories. You’d finally picked out your own attire, a simple yet elegant dress that you hoped would keep you from standing out too much.

The night of the ball arrived faster than you expected. And there you were standing at the mirror looking at your dress as your roommate talked about her date and what they were going to do after the dance. 

“Y/n, I heard Jungwon asked you.” Yunjin, your roommate, decided to bring up.

“In a way, but I’m not going with him.” you said still looking in hte mirror trying to find any imperfections.

“Why? He’s really cute, plus I’ve seen you two talking like all the time.” You made eye contact with her through the mirror and she was smiling, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Calm down, we just met in class and he has just kept on talking to me. Anyways—do I look okay?” You turn to Yunjin with a worried look on your face. 

She comes up to you and gives you a hug. “Don’t worry Y/n. Jungwon will think you look beautiful.” She teased.

You rolled your eyes not wanting to give her the satisfaction. "He's just a Gryffindor boy, not worth my time."

“Whatever you say. But I've seen the way to you smile when you're with him. Cmon let’s go, before it gets too late,” Yunjin takes your arm and you make your way to the dance. 

The Great Hall was transformed into a magical wonderland, with twinkling fairy lights and shimmering icicles hanging from the enchanted ceiling. Students milled about in their finest attire, the air buzzing with excitement and the soft strains of music.

Yunjin had met up with her date and you were left standing near the refreshment table, sipping on a cup of warm pumpkin juice, when Jungwon appeared at your side. He looked impossibly dashing in his formal robes, the Gryffindor colors subtly incorporated into the design. His hair was neatly styled, but the familiar twinkle in his eyes remained unchanged.

“You clean up well,” he said, his tone light but his gaze warm.

“So do you,” you replied, trying not to let your nerves show. “I thought you’d be off charming the crowd.”

He shrugged, leaning casually against the table. “Maybe I’d rather be here. Besides, someone’s got to make sure you’re not hiding out all night.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not hiding. I’m observing.”

“Observing, huh?” He held out his hand, his grin softening into something almost nervous. “Care to observe the dance floor with me?”

For a moment, you hesitated. But then, something in his expression—the mix of confidence and vulnerability—made you reach out and take his hand.

The dance floor was crowded, but Jungwon guided you with surprising ease. The moment you stepped closer, you caught the faint scent of his cologne—something clean and subtly spicy that made your head spin. As the music swelled, you found yourself relaxing, letting him lead you through the steps. His hand was warm in yours, his touch steady but slightly trembling, as if he was as nervous as you felt.

“See? Not so bad,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, a stark contrast to his usual playful tone.

You met his gaze and noticed the way his confident demeanor faltered slightly. His eyes flickered from yours to the space between you, like he couldn’t quite believe how close you were. For once, you couldn’t think of a single witty reply. Instead, you let yourself smile, feeling the moment stretch between you like a thread of magic, fragile yet unbreakable.

The steps slowed, and Jungwon’s grip on your hand tightened, as if he wasn’t ready for the song to end. When it finally did, he didn’t let go immediately. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his voice soft and uncertain as he said, “Thanks for the dance, Hufflepuff.”

“Anytime, Gryffindor,” you replied, your voice just as quiet, your heart fluttering wildly as he finally released your hand.

“You know,” Jungwon began, a hint of hesitation in his tone, “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes to that dance.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “It’s not like you gave me much of a choice.”

He chuckled softly, the sound almost self-conscious. “Fair point. But still… I’m glad you did.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you forgot how to respond. Instead, you looked at him, really looked at him, and saw something in his expression you couldn’t quite place—a mixture of nervousness and relief.

“Well,” you said finally, your voice softer now, “it was… nice. Dancing with you, I mean.”

“Nice?” he echoed, pretending to be offended, though the slight upward twitch of his lips betrayed him. “I’ll take it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped you. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he said with a grin, but there was a gentleness in his eyes that made your heart skip another beat.

But Jungwon didn’t stray far. Throughout the night, he stayed by your side, his usual teasing demeanor giving way to something more genuine. He made you laugh with stories of his misadventures in the Gryffindor common room, his eyes lighting up every time you smiled. The two of you shared more dances, each one more comfortable and intimate than the last, until the space between you felt almost non-existent.

As the night wore on, you found yourself wondering how you’d never noticed the way his laugh sounded like music, or how his presence made you feel like you belonged exactly where you were. Jungwon seemed equally caught up in the moment, his gaze lingering on you longer than necessary, his hand brushing yours even when there was no need.

By the end of the ball, it felt as though the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you under the enchanted ceiling, the stars above mirroring the spark between you.

Jungwon’s voice broke the comfortable silence. “You know, this has been the best Yule Ball I’ve ever been to.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “How many have you been to, exactly?”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and a little shy. “Well, it’s my first, but… it’ll be hard to top this.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard. “I’m glad you had a good time,” you said softly, looking down at your feet before meeting his gaze again. “I did too.”

His smile widened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something else. Instead, he hesitated, glancing around the Great Hall. The music was softer now, the crowd thinning as couples began to drift out.

“Do you… want to go for a walk?” he asked, his voice quieter, almost nervous.

You blinked in surprise but nodded, the idea of some fresh air suddenly appealing. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Together, you slipped out of the hall, the crisp night air wrapping around you as you stepped onto the snow-dusted grounds. The moonlight reflected off the blanket of white, casting everything in a silvery glow. Jungwon walked beside you, his hands tucked into his pockets, his usual confidence replaced by a quiet thoughtfulness.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” you murmured, your breath visible in the cold.

“Yeah,” he agreed, glancing at you with a small smile. “I think I needed this.”

“From all your Gryffindor antics?” you teased lightly.

He laughed, the sound soft but genuine. “Something like that. It’s nice, though. Being here with you.”

You looked at him, your heart skipping at the earnestness in his voice. Before you could overthink it, you nudged him playfully. “Careful, Jungwon. You’re starting to sound sincere.”

“Maybe I am,” he said, his tone quiet but steady. The vulnerability in his eyes made your teasing smile falter, replaced by something softer.

The two of you stopped near a frozen fountain, the snow glimmering around you. Jungwon turned to face you fully, his expression hesitant but hopeful. “Thanks for tonight. I mean it.”

“You already said that,” you replied, though your voice lacked any real teasing.

“I know,” he said, taking a small step closer. “But I wanted to say it again.”

The space between you felt charged, the air holding a kind of anticipation you’d never felt before. Jungwon’s eyes flicked to yours, then to your lips, and back again, as though waiting for a sign.

Not thinking but acting you leaned in close to Jungwon’s face, brushing your lips against his. It was soft and tentative, but the warmth of it spread through you like fire. Jungwon froze for a moment before responding, his hand gently coming up to cup your cheek as he deepened the kiss just slightly.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, the cold air sharp against your heated skin. Jungwon’s smile was small but radiant, his eyes searching yours.

“So… does this mean I’ve secured you as my partner for the next ball too?” he asked, his playful tone returning but laced with unmistakable affection.

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see, Gryffindor. We’ll see.”

✴︎🪷𓈒͏ུུ̑̑. ཉ — by @fruvittea

[moondustbaby]

Big Kid Now

Blue collar!Rafe x SAHM!Reader

a/n: based on this request! 💌

Summary: It’s Jace’s first day of kindergarten, and while he’s all excitement and big smiles, his mama’s doing her best not to cry through drop-off. Rafe holds it together for both of them—until their little boy walks into school without even looking back.

⸻

The morning felt heavier than usual, like the air itself knew something big was happening. Lunch was packed, backpack zipped, and Jace stood proudly in the kitchen, already wearing his new light-up sneakers and Spider-Man tee like it was armor.

“You ready, buddy?” Rafe asked, crouching to help straighten his son’s collar even though there wasn’t much to fix. He was all grins, trying to play it cool, but his voice cracked a little when he said, “Can’t believe you’re already in kindergarten.”

“I’m gonna play with blocks and eat snacks and do real math,” Jace declared proudly, puffing out his little chest.

You stood near the counter, arms crossed, trying not to cry for the fourth time that morning. Mia was still in her pajamas, clutching her stuffed bunny, and watching her big brother like she couldn’t quite understand what was happening.

“Okay,” you whispered, half to yourself, “I’m fine. Totally fine.”

Rafe shot you a look. He saw right through it, of course. He came over, hand resting on your back, warm and grounding.

“You’re gonna lose it the second we get in the car, huh?”

“I already am losing it,” you muttered, blinking quickly and leaning into his side. “He’s not supposed to grow up this fast. He was just learning how to walk.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, the curve of his lips pressed gently to your hairline. “I know. I feel it too.”

But he was solid. Holding it together for both of you, even when his own eyes looked shinier than usual.

The drive to school was a blur. Jace chattered the whole way, and you held his hand too tightly at every stoplight. When you pulled into the lot, kids were already spilling out of cars, some crying, some bouncing in excitement. Rafe parked, climbed out, and came around to unbuckle Jace. You followed, lifting Mia onto your hip.

“Alright, big man,” he said, holding out his hand for a high-five. “You go show ’em what you’re made of.”

Jace grinned, smacked Rafe’s palm with his tiny one, and then turned to you. “Love you, Mama,” he said before hopping down onto the sidewalk like it was just another day at the park.

That was when the tears came.

Rafe caught your hand before you could wipe them away. “Hey,” he whispered, tugging you close while Jace marched ahead toward the school doors. “He’s gonna have the best day.”

You nodded, tears slipping freely now. “I know. I just… I’m gonna miss him.”

“I will too,” he murmured. “But he’s ready. You made him ready.”

You leaned into him, watching as your little boy—your baby—walked inside without looking back, fearless and proud. And even though your heart ached, it also swelled with something bigger: pride, love, and a new kind of beginning.

Mia slid off your hip and clung to your leg, eyes wide as she stared at the school. You rested your hand on her soft curls and looked up at Rafe, who was still watching the doors like he wasn’t quite ready to turn around yet.

“We’ll be okay,” he said softly. “And hey—this one’s not going anywhere.”

You looked down at your daughter, who was now squeezing your leg like she was afraid you might vanish too, and smiled through the lump in your throat. “Thank God for that.”

༶⋆｡ﾟ☽✿⋆˚✧✿☾ﾟ｡⋆༶

a/n: this fic is basically just: Jace thriving, me spiraling, and Rafe trying to hold the whole family together before 8am. 10/10 emotional experience. enjoy the chaos. 🙃🥲

♥️ lani

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[lovverletters]

Been waiting for this lol

*Ahem* I introduced Yan husband! Finally, after years of waiting and stalking and murdering (if that's cool), he finally has you! He worships you every day and reminds you how lucky he is, and he tells everyone how he's so lucky and how you're perfect!

Yandere! Husband

A/N : Thanks for requesting! Hope you like it, 🌻 anon!

T/W : soft yandere, stalking, implied murder, non consentual photographing, stealing items, this is late asf

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"Honey, do you remember how we met?"

[Name] asked their husband of 6 years as they flip through their old journal, reliving their countless embarrassing, bitter and sweet memories of their youth.

They had been sifting through the storage closet earlier when they stumbled upon a box containing their old belongings dating back from when they were still studying in high school until they got married to their husband, Derek.

"Of course I do, it's the day I met the love of my life" He says with a smile on his face.

"Psh.. you're so cheesy Derry" [Name] swatted their husband's shoulder playfully, flustered at his words.

"What? I'm being honest. Every moment spent with you is unforgettable" A dark glint was present in his eyes as he uttered his reply.

How could he ever forget the day he met his beloved [Name]?

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Derek had been in his senior year of high school by the time he met [Name].

They had only recently moved to his hometown and enroll to the high school. He could still recall their timid expression as they asked him for directions, at that moment Derek brushed off the encounter as a one time thing.

He was graduating and they were a junior, he'll probably won't see them again.

Until Derek started to bump into [Name] more frequently albeit it being only a coincidence. [Name] would notice his presence and greeted him with a small wave everytime they pass by each other in the hallway or waiting in line during lunch.

Eventually, he finally spoke to them one day. It felt odd for him to be around them yet never uttering a single word.

It was the best decision he ever made.

"Uhㅡhey" Derek cursed himself inwardly for choking on his words.

[Name]'s eyes widened, spooked to hear him talk to them. They mustered up a crooked smile after recollecting themself to reply to him.

"Derek, hi. Sorry, I was on my phone that I didn't notice you behind me"

From then, something shifted in him. Their conversation faded into a white noise in his ears as his thoughts became fixated in [Name]'s voice.

He had heard them speak before but it felt different when they're talking to him. Their voice engraving itself into his brain like an earworm.

It doesn't stop there, their interaction expanded as their friendship blooms. [Name] would seek him out on subjects they were struggling on despite having other student who would eagerly help themㅡ his heart swells with pride knowing that it's him whom they're relying on.

Derek would also began inviting them to his football practice as an excuse to invite them for an ice cream laterㅡ and to also flex his athleticism in hopes of receiving praises from them.

He's not stupid, he knows that he likes themㅡ loves them. Maybe he had been a fool for underestimating his feelings for them.

It had been an unfortunate timing that he had never been able to confess to [Name] as his graduation passes and he was wrapped up with preparing for his higher education.

Those times away and distance from [Name] were hellish. Derek felt his sanity wanning with each day passes and his thoughts were constantly thinking of [Name].

What are they doing, Where they're at, Who they're withㅡ They don't have a partner don't they? They didn't replace me did they?? I'll kill that bastard who took my placㅡ

He finally cracked after stalking through their social media page and seeing the other student having grown close to them within months of his absence.

Derek decided that he's had enough sitting around in the sidelines with an aching heart. He'll make his move and insured that [Name] will be his.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"I then drove back to back from my university to yours for years until I finally had enough and decided to ask you to move in with me" He traced the picture they took on their first day moving into his house.

[Name] snorted and pinched their husband's cheek, laughing as they teased him.

"Silly, you, I can't believe you rent out an apartment just because you can't be away from me anymore"

Derek huffed and flipped to the next page, tracing [Name]'s photo as he always does everytime he sees it.

"I love you too much, it hurt's to not be around your presence. I feel like I was going to die with each hour passes without you"

"Mmh sure, how come you never died after leaving me everytime you have to go back?" [Name] attempt at poking at their husband again.

Only to receive an unexpected answer.

"I never left" Derek uttered. No elaboration whatsoever.

Silence follows after as the cogs in [Name]'s brain turn to process what their sweet stupid dork husband just said.

Derek closed the journal shut and stood up, planting a kiss on their temple.

"I'm going to prepare dinner now. You better come and eat when I call you before continuing your clean up! No buts and ifs, okay love?" He gave them another kiss before disappearing into the kitchen.

Come to think of it, Derek had re-entered their life at a time where their newfound friend tragically passed in a mysterious incident. [Name] had been devastated and clung to Derek for comfort before it eventually delved into them being in a relationship with the man.

Everything was perfect. Too perfect if they had to be honest. It's almost as if he had planned it.

They shook off the thoughts and continued sorting through the old boxes when one of the contents surprised them.

It was the items they thought they had lost or threw away. But how could Derek have it when they had lost it before they begun dating. The polaroids were also odd as Derek weren't around during their senior year when it was takenㅡ if the dates marked was correct.

"Honey! Dinner's ready"

They'll ask him about it later.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[dokyumms]

only you know the way that i break

pairing: dk x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff?

word count: 1.4k

cw: insults are made towards reader, self hate, food/eating mentioned, dispatch are lowkey stalkers

a/n: a request done for 💌 anon! it legit took me 2 hours to find photos omg... this probably wasn’t enough fluff but oh well 😔

you know you shouldn't be on social media right now, but you can't help it.

somehow, dispatch caught you and seokmin on a date. you were sure you took all the precautions- wearing a mask and cap, seokmin posted on weverse that he was staying at home, and just about everything to make sure no one was suspicious of him going on a date.

but alas, the second you and him take off your masks to take a bite of pizza at a park, you hear a loud shutter noise followed by a lot more of them.

it wasn't really the fact seokmin was on a date itself- he'd mentioned months before he had a girlfriend- it was more so the fact no one had seen your face before, till now.

only hours later, “DK GIRLFRIEND REVEALED” is trending on twitter. you’ve been fearing the public’s opinion for a long time, and even after all the years of preparing for it, you’re still not ready for the immense amount of comments that are made about you.

it's not that you're severely insecure, your boyfriend definitely made sure of it, it's just that fans are crazy and will say anything just to get their idol to break up with anyone that's not them.

you know what they say are probably projections of all sorts and reading the comments will only hurt you for no reason, but something's pulling you, a sudden need to know if they approve of you anyway. are you objectively good enough for seokmin?

so now you're in the bathroom, sitting against the cold tile wall, and scrolling through an endless sea of posts about you. some people love you. they say you're pretty, beautiful, totally dk's type, but it's quickly overshadowed by waves of hate.

people are quick to analyze and dissect everything about you. from the way you dress to how you walk, they have something negative to point out. you didn’t even know someone could see this much just from a couple photos.

you already sense the familiar tightening of your throat, but you keep reading. one post catches your eye in particular.

“doesn’t everyone notice how ugly dk’s gf is compared to him?? LMAO… must’ve bribed him or smth 💀 but seriously, this girl is a nobody. no wonder it took so long to get a look at her, i wouldn’t show my face in public if i looked like that.”

the post has 10.5k likes, and you don’t have to look at the replies to know if others agree or not. there’s another post right after.

“OMG DOKYEOM WHY ARE YOU DATING THIS THING…???? PLS WHAT HAPPENED TO STANDARDS 💔”

for some reason, you can’t look away. you forget everything seokmin’s ever told you about haters and start to really consider what they say. who were you anyway? why did it take so long to let yourself be revealed? why was seokmin dating you?

you put a hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sobs that come out. your boyfriend’s probably on the couch, looking through these same posts. maybe he’s realizing the same things you are.

more cries come out. they’re heavier, filled with disgust and agony. you’re disgusted by yourself, not even willing to get up, afraid of what you might see in the mirror.

you start to spiral, and suddenly, you’re making up comments about yourself as well.

it’s not long before someone knocks on the bathroom door.

“babe? are you okay in there?” seokmin calls out in concern. you can imagine his face, brows slightly furrowed and lips pulled into a tight line as he impatiently waits for your answer.

you try to answer, but it only comes out as another sob. seokmin doesn’t wait again, opening the door hastily.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he asks, embracing you, still on the floor. it’s warm, full of love, and it almost makes you sob more. why you? what did you do to deserve him?

“don’t call me that,” you mumble quietly as if it hurts to say. he almost pulls away, “what? why?”

you can’t get out a single word, but your mind fills up with every reason possible, making you sob more. the only thing you can do is hand him your phone, twitter still opened.

he doesn’t let go of you, keeping an arm wrapped around you as he takes your phone. based on his reaction, it seems like he somehow hadn’t seen these posts. he gasps, gripping you tighter.

“what… why would people say things like this?” he asks in frustration, putting the phone down. “please don’t tell me that you believe them.”

“seok,” you manage to get out. “they’re right, i don’t understand why you’re dating-”

“don’t finish that,” he cuts you off, sounding the most serious he has in a while. “y/n, i love you. i’ve loved you before this whole idol thing, okay? you’re not a nobody, you’re so much more than that. i promise,” he starts.

“you’re perfect for me, these people don’t know anything about you. they don’t see everything you do for me, your beauty, all the memories we share, but i do, okay? i see you and all the things i love about you.” he holds your face, forcing you to look at him.

“i don’t want you to listen to these people because they’re blind, y/n.”

you look at him, searching for the lie behind his eyes, but you don’t find it.

“you promise?” you sniffle.

“with my whole heart.” he promises, leaning his forehead against yours and giving you a chaste kiss.

and maybe just for a bit, your mind is quiet, absent of the comments from before, only full of love for the man who’s in front of you.

[xxanaduwrites]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

honey, are you comin’?

previous part: sweet talkin’ | from the hive: session 1

✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️

summary: in which benny finds honey again. this time near a honeycomb, hopin’ for a taste on the road ;) (p.s.: if you were wonderin’, yes — the title of this was so inspired by måneskin)

warnings: not much of anything besides some minor talks of cruelty towards children, peeps being judgmental as hell, & smoking. they’re subtly flirting here basically. it’s cute! that’s really it. x

author’s note: oh my goodness! you have no idea how STUNNED i’ve been by all the love miss.honey!benny have been getting so far. fully was not expecting this. deadass wrote sweet talkin’ for fun. no thoughts, head empty type beat. just wanted to thank you honeys so so much. i can’t thank ya enough i fear! i literally still can’t wrap my head around this, but i love you all sm & can’t wait to share more with you! 🍯🐝🫶

word count: 2.7k

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Another unbearable wave of heat managed to remain the very next day. Your students squirming against their metal chairs, antsy as ever for a reprieve. And so were you too. Thankfully, it just so happened to be your turn as fellow recess monitor with one or your fellow co-workers, Miss. Margie. Marge just so happened to be a newly breaded fresh faced teacher just like yourself. You enjoyed her company, more so than the older teachers who were rather cruel to the students. Especially when they did something wrong. Marge wasn’t cruel so to speak but she was a tough cookie, putting her foot down when needed. You two as a duo were rather perfect for the school grounds. You as the comfort go to when a knee was scraped, and Marge as the tough love go to when a particular student needed a stern talking to.

You worked well together, and it showed. Your relief was rather prominent when you stepped out the back door near the playground. An immediate swarm of giggles and chatter from small voices buzzed about, and you couldn’t help but smile as you adjusted your eyes to the sun, protected under your heart shaped sunnies. It didn’t take you long to find Marge who was already planted near the monkey bars with her arms crossed over her chest like a drill sergeant. Considering her father’s status as a war vet, by no means was it shocking to you or anyone else for that matter to see her in such a state.

“Hi Margie,” you greeted her once materialized next to her. “How’s it goin’?”

Margie's clear concentration dropped at the sound of your voice. “Oh no wonder,” she commented without looking at you. Her brows shot up in genuine intrigue.

Your honey coated lips parted in confusion instantly. “Huh?”

“Your three o’clock, Hun.” Margie tilted her head to the right subtly, directing you to her line of sight. A sight that made your heart curl into itself in a warm beat. Right behind those chain-linked fences that kept the kids contained was Uncle Benny. Yet, today his status as Uncle appeared to be rather amiss. Instead of Johnny’s car flanked near the curb, he was leaning against a neat Harley Davidson. The same one you saw him on that mornin’. You figured he was dropping off the girls or somethin’, but your curiosity got the better of you when you saw Mrs. Davis with them instead.

Now in the no parking zone, he stood out like the sorrest of thumbs. Practically a puzzle piece thrown into the wrong box. With no thoughts behind those pretty blue eyes of his besides you.

“That biker of yours stood up like a torpedo as soon as you walked out,” your co-worker added.

You took a moment to adjust your glasses, moving them to the tip of your nose to get a better look. Sure as shit, you weren’t having a heat stroke. It was really him. He was still here. Had he been out here since the mornin’ or left to come back? And if he was here for you like Margie said — why? You were certain he wasn’t much of a fan of you the day prior.

“He’s — He’s not my biker,” you mangled out, words twisting off your tongue as butterflies danced around your tummy.

Margie snorted. “I hate to break it to you, Hun. Lookin’ like he is now.” She paused a moment, shifting her footing as she spotted a youngin’ running roughly across the pavement, almost banging into another student. “Hey — watch where you’re goin’. Don’t push it Mikey!” She reprimanded before fixing herself upright and asking you, “What was all that about yesterday anyways?”

“What y’mean?” You questioned, not quite sure what she was going on about.

“You know — lettin’ the Davis girls go with ‘em. Caused a bit of an upheaval with the parents apparently. Heard all about it in the break room this mornin’. Doesn’t sound like Principal Rubs is real happy about it either.”

Your ears couldn’t believe what you were hearing. What business did the parents have putting their two cents in about somebody else’s family members? As for Principal Rubin, well, she was Principal Rubin after all. There wasn’t much to it there. The damn woman was a stickler with the sprinklers yesterday after all. Never a ball of fun as far as you were concerned.

“Why wouldn't I?” You challenged, becoming rather defensive.

“The guy pulled up like a maniac all greasy and shit. Almost gave everyone a heart attack,” Margie reasoned, her features churning in disgust.

You knew if he was some clean cut military guy in full uniform, she wouldn’t have made a comment at all, which kind-of pissed you off. Sure his clothes were lookin’ as if they hadn’t seen a washing machine in a cycle of days, but hey — what did that have to do with character? There were plenty of people who gave this outward canvas of perfectionism, far off from who they truly were deep down inside. You knew that, and you saw it every single day within the cruel clusters of your modern society. You saw it in the faces of your Ma and Pa when you didn’t fit the supposed mold they were trying to conform you to.

“So? He’s their Uncle, Marge,” you countered, defenses climbing high. “Did you ever think that maybe the man was runnin’ late? Worryin’ about the girls. That’s why he was speedin’.”

Margie sighed. “Not with that Vandals shit on his vest, but whatever you wanna believe, Hun.”

It went quiet between you two then. A clear indication that this conversation wasn’t gonna get the two of you anywhere.

“I should go talk to him,” you announced, snapping the awkward silence in half. There was no denying that you were now suddenly eager to find out what all this was about.

“Yuh should. If you don’t I will, and I doubt that will end well,” she joked, her eyes sparkling in amusement. Oh and she was right about that. Knowing Margie, you knew the idea of her approaching Benny would formulate a recipe for disaster.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the mental image of such a scene. But also — you were utterly glad for this newfound banter popped open from a bottle of tension. “Alright Colonel, I’ll be back,” you quipped, before heading across the playground.

You could feel his eyes burning across your form on your journey to the edge of the property, your tummy flipping again in a bit of nerves and excitement. A part of you felt somewhat disappointed when you found yourself coming to a halt — stuck behind the monstrous fence that separated you from him, while another was glad for some security. You weren’t quite sure what his motive was, but knew it couldn’t be anything bad. He was just sitting here, smoking and minding his own business. Well — minding you.

“The girls don’t get out of school for another few hours, y’know,” you said matter-of-factly, eyeing him through the grates of the fence that reminded you far too much of a honeycomb.

He didn’t say much of anything, just raised a brow as you as he took one last drag of his cigarette. You watched as he put it out against the pavement, amongst a garden of other buds with his boot. Your suspicions were coming into fusion then, the realization that he’d been planted here for as long as your delusions imagined.

What could he possibly want from an innocent elementary school teacher like you?

He reached for that packet of Marlboros in his vest pocket all over again, clearly on a chain smoking spree. “Y’want?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. Those lean fingers of his calloused to the bone holding out a fresh cigarette in your direction. A cigarette that he’d been saving for you just in case.

You looked around for a moment, not quite sure what to do. The coast seemed to be clear though. Margie looked busy with some of the kids. Had a cluster of ‘em around her with her finger wagging about in every which direction. With her eyes no longer trained on Benny and you, and your form more than halfway across the school yard, you figured it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, you were having a day and could really use a cigarette. “Sure.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Benny re-adjusted his stance, shoulders straight as he sauntered the sidewalk to meet you against the fence. His rough knuckles brushed across your polished ballet slipper fingers as he passed you the cigarette though the honeycomb, a sweetness shooting up your arm in an instance. You left it sticking out for a moment so he could light it up for you, and you could feel his hot breath fanning against your face. The casual interaction felt rather intimate in the moment, and you were more than happy when you got to take a step back on your first drag.

“Thanks,” you voiced your appreciation as he popped a fresh cig against his lips, now lighting up his own. You couldn’t help but notice that he had a sweet little freckle etched into his bottom lip. No wonder he had beautiful lips, you thought.

Surely, they’d be sweet to the kiss.

Jutting your hip out, you tapped your foot against the dry grass in impatience. “You stalkin’ me or somethin’?” You ripped off the bandage then, getting right into the real stuff. It was too hot out to sugarcoat anything any longer. Plus, the more you stood here the more Marg would get curious, and you’d be caught slacking on the job.

His lip curled up to the side naturally, just like it had yesterday when you introduced yourself to him. “Ain’t a stalker,” he confirmed, re-pocketing his lighter.

You found his candid response refreshing’. Naturally a honey rumblin’ laugh tumbled out of you “Good to ‘ear. My co-worker y’see ‘round over there?” Flicking the residue on the end of your cigarette out of the way, you pointed at her simultaneously. “She thinks ya are. Doesn’t appreciate the loitering.”

He shook his head then, long pretty eyelashes fanning his lower lids as he puckered his lips against the cig. His eyes squinted across the campus for only a second until his gaze landed right back on you. You in another denim overall number with a whole new canvas of embroidered fun. This time, knowing that you were gonna be out in the yard come afternoon, you opted on a classic jean overall. There was always the possibility of having to kneel on the grassy ground or near the sand pit, having to scoop up a youngin’ that refused to leave the playground. You learned your lesson rather quickly within your first few months of teaching. Tripping over yourself in such a situation left a tear in your favorite skirt. A skirt you still frowned about every time you found a certain piece in your closet that would make the perfect pair.

Funnily enough, if Benny knew of such a thing he would’ve made sure the same exact piece of clothing was at your doorstep and back in your closet before the thought crossed your sweet little mind.

But you didn’t know that. Not yet, that is.

And Benny — well Benny wasn’t payin’ as much attention as he would’ve liked to what you were sayin’, and he wasn’t quite interested in Margie anyways. His interests lied with you, and in his defense, the sight of you in your heart shaped sunnies wasn't helping the cause one bit. It was hard to take you seriously when you looked that stinkin’ cute. Made him wanna put you in his jacket pocket for safe keeping. And hell was he itching to just drive his bike right through the fuckin’ fence to break the barrier between you two. He was still beatin’ himself up for not taking your hand when you offered it to him yesterday. Hence why he was here, stakin’ you out. Hoping to fix his mistake.

Because the last thing he ever wanted to do was fuck this up with you.

Instead of enertainin’ your comment or makin’ a move to leave upon your far from subtle hints, far from linear to your own wishes, he changed the topic completely. “What time y’get outta ‘ere?”

You took a long drag of your cigarette, to calm your anxieties. The smoke circled ‘round your face for a moment before it traveled across the fence, reachin’ for Benny. Ironically, it was as if the smoke mirrored your desires of clinging onto the man in front of you. “‘round the same time as the girls, a little after,” you replied, curiosity adding, “what’s it to ya?”

“Wanna go for a ride?” He inquired casually. As if he was just stoppin’ by and hadn’t been sitting here for a good three quarters of the school day waitin’ for you.

The simple question spilling from those pretty lips of his made you melt in an instant. If it wasn’t for the obvious heat as a buffer to such a state, your mind would’ve found him as the culprit. “Where?”

“‘round.” He shrugged, not offering much of a plan. His casual demeanor remained concrete to his form.

An innocent smirk stretched across your face, blooming the apples of your cheeks and creasing the plane of your forehead. Now you were the one to flex amusement against a cylinder wedged between honey glossed lips. Now Benny was the one to be somewhat grateful for the honeycomb — if you will. Cause if the fence wasn’t there, he knew he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. He’d have your honey gloss all over his lips, tasting your sweetness without a second thought. Without caring about Margie or the students on the playground. Without caring about anyone really, but you.

Always you.

Perhaps anyone else would be rather suspicious of a plan with really no plan at all. Sure Margie would need a bulleted itinerary on fresh stationary, color coated and attached to a clipboard respectfully. But you — no, you appreciated his carefree mentality. It was peaceful in comparison to the stressing atmosphere that surround you on a daily basis, dotting on the kiddos in your classes, worryin’ constantly about ‘em.

Two could play this game, you thought.

Just at the end of your cigarette, your pretty fingers reached between a ring in the honeycomb, motioning it back to him. “Would ya put this out f’me?” You asked sweetly, mascara coated lashes batting about behind those obvious heart eyes of yours. “Don’t want the kids to find it in the grass.”

“Mhm,” Benny hummed, finding your concern for this children too fuckin’ cute. How could he ever say no to a sweet thang like you? He just couldn’t.

Your fingers grazed his as he took it from you, a touch that you found yourself thanking your faith for allowing you to bask in again.

This time he not only put out his cigarette, but yours too in the garden of buds that would blossom into a metaphor. A metaphor that had you joining his crew. Becoming a part of the club, joining his family, and fulfilling your wifely duties of planting a seed or two more along the way. Growin’ Benny some baby honeys of your very own.

Your lack of a reply to his offer didn’t sway him by any means, only fueled his fire tenfold. Turning on his heel then, you couldn’t help but frown, thinkin’ your hesitance turned him impatient and over the prospect completely. Especially when you watched him mount his bike and rev the engine, ready to ride away without another word. But Benny — no he still had somethin’ to say, and he was gonna say it alright. “I’ll see ya out front after school, Honey.” He decided, “I’ll be waitin’.”

The sound of your nickname rolling off his tongue — as smooth as honey sliding down your throat in a soothing tea — was all you needed to make your decision.

With your fun little backpack — straps resting against your shoulders — absolutely decked out in pins and keychains alike, you’d spot him at dismissal, and he’d be waitin’. Waitin’ for you to come. Wonderin’ if you were comin’.

Askin’ himself ‘Honey, are you comin’?’

Of course you would. You always would with Benny, no matter what.

And when you mounted his bike, your body molding into his like you were made for him, and your hands wrapping around his waist, Benny’s mistake proved to be no more. Suddenly, everything felt right in the world.

Right because you were one step closer to being his honey.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

hi-ya, i hope you enjoyed part 2! there’s so much more to come. expect a from the hive 🎙️🐝 installment real soon :)

also to note, my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.

+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

da bee hive 🐝

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@thegabbyh

@jihyowrrld

@bellesdreamyprofile

@superemobitch

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@thatoneweirdgirl17

[joonberriess]

𓆩♡𓆪 “you don’t have to admit you wanna play, just let me rock you till the break of day,” – jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — simping at its finest, blowjobs, cum-swallowing, degradation, dumbification, jk is mean but also a praise fanatic, oc is a cute puppy who eats it all up, objectification(?) pretty sure bc jk just has unholy thoughts about oc, oc is THEE it girl, dirty talking, messy lil make-outs, thank you kiss on the tip LOL, PET NAME GALORE, oc is a nice lil bimbo everyone loves ❤️ even jk’s friends luv her

Jungkook listened to whatever the hell Jennie was explaining to him, in truth he stopped paying attention like five minutes ago. He sat there like a fried vegetable just zoning out and nodding mindlessly whenever Jennie looked at him and asked if he agreed etc. He didn’t want to be rude to Jennie but any more of this and he’d go insane he fears.

“So for the powerpoint I was thinking we should..” Jennie’s voice slowly fades out as the sound of the front door opening catches Jungkook’s eye/attention. Holy shit he doesn’t believe what he’s witnessing. He doesn’t realize he’s staring hardcore at Jennie’s poor unsuspecting roommate.

He instantly recognizes you as the girl he sees his team/friends go crazy over. You were quite the talk of the campus—cute, slutty, bimbo-like, these were some of the most common things said. If Jungkook had to admit, you were pretty cute and he’s only ever really seen you casually here and there. He finds himself licking his lips slowly and sitting up while clearing his throat.

“Hi Jennie, hi Jennie’s friend.” You sweetly say while waving at Jungkook politely. He gets an eyeful of tits and soft tummy as you pass by.

You’re wearing this soft pink tracksuit and white baby tee crop top which hugs your pretty little tits just nicely. Don’t even get him started about your backside which is enough in itself to bring a tear to his eye. Jungkook doesn’t realize he’s overdoing it with his staring until Jennie clears her throat pretty loudly.

“Ahem.” She glares at him, “As I was saying,” she shoves her laptop in Jungkook’s face.

He doesn’t see more of you because you end up heading down the hall to your room after saying “bye-bye” to both him and Jennie. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He grunts in annoyance.

“Not my roommate Jeon, you can go about fucking anything that fucking walks and has a hole between their legs but you leave y/n out of your lechery. Got it?” She hisses, “I can see the gears working in that stupid head of yours, so I’m warning you. Now help me with this powerpoint asshole, I’m not doing all the work.”

Jungkook internally groans—overprotective roommate, greaaat.

Whole time he works on the project his mind is filled with obscene thoughts and nasty little daydreams he comes up with just thinking about you. Jungkook’s had his fair share of hook-ups but none have ever truly made him go this crazy before. He’s fucking FIENDING for it, would be on his damn knees begging for you to crush his head with your soft thighs if he could.

Too bad Jennie said you were off-limits though. Unless..

Much to Jungkook’s dismay he doesn’t see you for the remainder of the time he’s there. He does see you more often around campus though, whether it’s you hopping out of your very pink car or you running about all over campus with a pink drink in your hands. He can’t get enough of you, and it’s fucking obvious to his friends who make fun of him for it.

“y/n, Kook? Really?” Yugyeom snorts, “Only in your fucking dreams will you ever hit that, your little guy down there probably wouldn’t even know what to do with all that ass.” Laughter all around them erupts as Yugyeom smugly smirks, happy with himself.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You’re so fucking stupid,” more laughing, “honestly, if anyone has more chances it’s me, you’re all either losers AND she’s never bat an eye at you. I don’t see any action from any of you either, all talk and shit.” He mutters while taking a drag from the blunt they were all passing around.

“Not true! y/n is a nice girl Jungkook.” Jimin snorts, “Watch,” he turns around and looks over the area for you, “hey y/n!” He yells while waving his arms. They all wait patiently for your reaction, low and behold you just end up proving Jimin correct.

You look confused at first until you smile brightly, “Hi,” you wave back while walking over, “what are you guys up to?” You tilt your head, lips pursed in a adorable little pout.

“Smoking.” Yugyeom replies curtly, “Want some?” He holds the blunt out to you.

Jungkook doesn’t know why but that shit irks the fuck out of him, he shoots his friend a glare and fans the smoke out of your direction before it can hit you. You smell like chai mixed with pumpkin, and he definitely does NOT want to ruin your pretty smell.

“No thank you,” you politely reply and then turn to look at Jimin again, “ ‘m a little sad though, because this morning I tried to make waffles but I didn’t know you had to actually pull the lever down and I didn’t get to eat my waffles.” You sigh wistfully, “See?” You hold out the raw and cold waffles wrapped up in a napkin, “And I don’t like it,” you shake your head, “you’re my friend right Jiminie? Can you buy me some waffles from the cafe pretty please?” You whine.

Jimin turns a little red at the nickname and nods, “Here,” he holds out a couple of bills, more than enough.

The other guys scramble for their wallets, “I’m your friend too right y/n?” They say while holding out their own money to you. Jungkook just stands there slack-jawed, he has never seen his own friends this fucking down-bad before. Oh, but they wanted to laugh at him for simping after you? Funny how the tables have turned.

“Reallyyyy?” You breathily giggle while accepting the money, “Thank you!” You kiss Jimin on the cheek before skipping away with literally breakfast, lunch, and dinner money.

“But I’M the fuckin’ simp? Yeah, totally.” Jungkook scoffs while shaking his head.

Jungkook starts making up an excuse to talk to you from then on. He doesn’t have to do much because you do all the talking for him, he just stands there listening to you ramble on and on about something he doesn’t recall asking. He thinks it’s cute when you stop mid-sentence and say in utter confusion, “What was I talking about again?”

If he could, he’d sit there and just listen to you talk all day. He’s surprised how much he likes your ditziness and dumb little brain fart moments, he finds that he doesn’t mind it so much. Like now, he was sitting there propped up against his car in the parking lot listening to you rant about astrology, time-loops, and anime..?

“Yeah?” Jungkook occasionally says while he watches you passionately explain to him what a fucking shinigami was.

“Think about it—politics and death notebooks, they go hand in hand for disaster and doom.” You softly say, completely side-tracking from the original topic, “I wish I had a shinigami though,” you pout while tapping your finger against your chin, “I think Ryuk is pretty cool. Have you seen the anime?”

Jungkook hums, “No, heard of it but haven’t seen it. So like, shinigami’s come with a death note or what?” He asks, ready for another little rant of yours (he doesn’t mind though). His eyes fall down to your pretty camisole you wore today. You were wearing these cute tight jeans that hung low on your hips, he loved the little pink bows you attached to the belt loops.

“Mm-hm,” you nod, “oh! I gotta go before I forget, all my undies shrunk in the dryer and now they’re pretty tight ‘n they fit a little smaller so now I have to buy some more.” You pout, “Bye Jungkookie,” you throw one arm around his neck as you side-hug him, standing on your tippy toes to reach his height as you press a kiss to his cheek, “bye-bye!” You wave and run off.

“Bye..” Jungkook whispers in awe, he smells a hint of your perfume on his shirt and he vows then and there he isn’t going to wash this shirt anytime soon.

The next time that Jungkook sees you it’s when he’s leaving your shared apartment after another project session. He sees you bent over while poking and trying to pull at the gas tank lid, which is obviously sealed shut. He whistles under his breath and walks over, eyes dropping down to your perky ass which is covered in these pretty little shorts which hug both cheeks nice and tight.

“What you doing down there, hm?” Jungkook leans against the car with his arms folded over his chest and an amused smile on his face, “Having fun?”

“Jungkook, hi,” you greet softly while standing up straight, “I was just trying to get this stupid thingy open because Jennie is letting me borrow her car cause mine is in the shop getting the windows tinted,” you pout, “but I don’t know how to open this stupid thing, and I wanna fill her car with gas as a thank you for letting me borrow it. Help meeeee,” you whine tugging at his arm.

“C’mere,” he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and guides you to sit in the driver's seat, “you see this baby?” He squats down so he’s eye-level with you, his free hand rests over your soft thighs while he points with his other, “You just pull this, and wa-la, the gas tank lid pops right open.” He chuckles and squeezes your thigh.

Your eyes brighten, “Reallyyy? How cool, thank you.” You happily throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, “no wonder that stupid thing wasn’t opening.” You giggle.

Jungkook takes a deep whiff of your soft coconut smell, he closes his eyes and sighs in pure bliss. This was the dream dammit, he never wanted to leave this spot EVER. “It was no problem really.” He mumbles more to himself while he stares at your pretty tits.

Fuck the friend code (if you can even call Jennie’s threat that), friend code didn’t have a pair of child-bearing hips and a ass shaped like a fucking peach like you did. Who was Jennie to keep all of you to herself so selfishly?

“Jungkook,” you softly say, “ ‘m gonna give you a thank you kiss.”

Jungkook laughs in amusement over how proud of yourself you look right now, he finds himself shaking his head and speaking in a lower pitched tone, “Yeah, where? Right here?” He turns his face to stick his cheek out.

A tiny little giggle escapes your lips as you nod at him, “Mm-hmm, right there.” You lean upwards to kiss his cheek gently, emitting a soft smacking noise as you happily smooch him. “There.” You say more to yourself.

Jungkook’s eyes drop down to your jiggly boobs which are pretty much in his face at this point. Your camisole somehow dips lower as your tits sit perfectly pushed together to accentuate their size. He tells himself not to but his dick seems to say otherwise as it stirs up in the confinements of his boxers. He already knows he’s about to be sporting a hard-on by the end of this interaction so he gives in.

“Want another kiss..” He mumbles while licking his lips, “But not on my cheek..got somethin’ else you can kiss.”

Your eyes follow his line of sight and you come across the very prominent bulge sitting behind his sweats. Your cheeks feel hot from embarrassment as the familiar throbbing sensation forms between your legs. Jungkook sees this when you suddenly begin rubbing your soft thighs together while staring back at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Whaddya say baby,” he lazily grins, “can I get that kiss?”

You stare back at him with those sweet puppy eyes of yours and nod eagerly.

.

Lips smacking against lips and quiet little moans/noises fill the otherwise dimly lit car (God bless his Mercedes for the interior lighting). You were tucked away on his lap in the backseat of the car, windows foggy and all as your hand slipped from the glass. Jungkook could die a happy man right now with the way he had a handful of ass sitting in the palms of his hands. He gave your soft cheeks appreciative squeezes as he kneaded the flesh roughly—greedily.

His own lips were a bit swollen from the hot make-out session but he didn’t mind, you were one hell of a kisser. One thing he didn’t see coming was how much of a little sex fiend you were, he swears he can’t keep up with how needy and slutty you are. He almost finds it cute how you pout and beg for him to let you have it while simultaneously humping him and refusing to let him part from the kiss.

Jungkook raised his hand and brought it down hard on your ass cheek, relishing in the resounding slap noise and how it recoiled/bounced in place. A slutty little moan escapes your lips as you pull back and pant softly against his lips, “Take ‘em off,” you slur softly, “hate these stupid shorts, gettin’ in my way.” You mumble with a tiny pout.

“Gonna let me see what’s underneath baby?” He looks up through his hooded eyes, grinning when he sees you eagerly nodding back at him, “Yeah? Go on then, slide ‘em off baby, show me what you got on.” He smacks your ass and gropes it harshly, only letting go when you whine at him while unbuttoning your shorts.

He swears under his breath as soon as the button pops open and you slip the zipper down. The hem of your undies comes into view, he sees a tiny bow sitting at the top so innocently and he can’t help but wonder what the rest of your panties are like.. Jungkook reclines back on the seat and parts his legs to make room for you.

You manage to slip your shorts down your thighs slowly with your hips swaying from side to side. Jungkook lets out an audible groan when he sees the cheeky undergarment that was hiding underneath. “Well don’t you look pretty,” he comments while running his hand over your ass, “bet you look prettier under.” He mumbles while licking his lips.

“But what about your kiss?” You pout.

Jungkook smacks your ass wickedly, “Don’t give me that fuckin’ pout. Didn’t know you were that eager to suck my cock, ‘s all you’re good for isn’t it baby? Just a dumb little thing who needs her mouth filled huh?” He grins when he hears you moan, “You gonna be a good little cock sleeve for me?”

“The best,” you happily slur, “ ‘m gonna swallow every last drop, promise.”

He finds it endearing when you hold your pinky out to him, and not wanting to be mean he hooks his pinky with yours, “Good girl.” He brings you in for a gentle little smooch, “Gonna ruin that pretty face of yours baby,” he whispers in-between kisses, “get on your knees for me.”

Jungkook finds that he likes how submissive and responsive you are to him, makes it a hundred times sexier in his opinion. You sink to your knees in front of him without missing a beat, you have your hands set over his knees as you sit there waiting with puppy eyes. “Go ahead baby, ‘s all yours.” He chuckles.

You eagerly paw at his sweats and with his help pull them down alongside his boxers until his fat cock is springing out and slapping against his lower abdomen. Your mouth waters when your eyes land on his perfectly sculpted cock, now you wanna feel it inside of you more than ever. His cock lays against his stomach, flush at the tip with prominent veins on the underside of his shaft.

“ ‘s mine…?” You whisper breathily while pursing yours lips, “ ‘s so pretty..” You’re talking more to yourself as you grab ahold of his throbbing cock and bring the mushroomy tip to your lips. Your tongue pokes out as you swirl it over the head, moaning softly at the tangy taste.

Jungkook bites down on his lip as he watches with hooded eyes, he can’t believe his wet dreams are coming true. Did he save an entire country in his past life? Made sense with how lucky he was right now. He brings his tattooed hand over the back of your head as he simply rests it there, letting you explore his dick like if it was a lollipop or some shit.

Your lips wrap around the head as you make these sloppy little sucking noises. Trickles of saliva begin to trickle down his cock, you use it as lube to stroke his girthy shaft—twisting and turning your hand around it while you noisily swallow around the tip. Jungkook’s lips part with breathy sighs escaping him, he relaxes into the seat and leans his head back with his eyes slipped shut.

You’re working wonders on his cock right now with the way you’re slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. “Like that,” he whispers more to himself as he moans out again when you dip your tongue into the sensitive slit of his tip. Your strokes become slower but much more intense with the pressure you start applying. It’s getting a lot harder now to control himself from bucking his hips or something.

“Shit, don’t tease me baby,” he groans, “been thinking about your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock for weeks now. Knew you’d look pretty with a mouth full of cock.” Jungkook opens his eyes again to admire the view. “Open up for me baby,” he reaches down to thumb at your lower lip, “there you go—like that.” He grins.

He feeds you more of his cock watching as you eagerly take more and more until the tip hits the back of your throat. It sends you into a small gagging fit but the vibrations and pressure of your throat closing around him definitely sends zaps of hot pleasure down in his groin and lower belly. “Shit.” He groans loudly.

You whine around his cock and pull away to catch your breath, his cock slips from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Jungkook hisses quietly under his breath and reaches down to stroke his slicked up cock, “Messy little thing you are.”

“Off, off, ‘s my turn.” You huff cutely before swallowing his cock in one go now that you’re a bit more prepared.

It takes Jungkook by surprise as he groans loudly and throws his head back. You begin working wonders with that sinful tongue of yours, pairing it with some mean ass sucks. He lets his hand slip from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, just holding you there as he lets you do your thing. You begin bobbing your head slowly while noisily swallowing around his cock.

“Fucking hell y/n,” he whispers slack-jawed, you’re a damn menace. How the hell is he supposed to last? “You just needed something to fill that needy hole of yours didn’t you?” He pants softly, “Knew the moment I saw you that you were made for my cock baby. If only you could see yourself now.” He licks his lips and gives your neck a small gentle squeeze between his fingers.

You slurp up all the slick you leave behind on his cock, your hand sits at the base just idly gripping him while your mouth does all the work. You pull all the way up until the tip sits in your mouth before you swoop back down to take all of him in. He repeatedly hits the back of your throat but you do a much better job at controlling your gag reflex this time around. Your sloppy pace definitely has Jungkook moaning and grunting under his breath.

“Gonna cum,” he sighs, “keep going—like that.” He whispers as a full body shudder falls over him.

You eagerly pull off his cock and begin stroking him at a frantic pace. You watch with glee as his cock begins to throb in your hold, but you don’t let it deter you one bit. You’re eager to see him cum, you want it all in your mouth. “Like this?” You say this while squeezing around the tip and flicking your thumb over it.

Jungkook gasps softly, “Fuck..!” He hisses.

You smile deviously and bring the tip over your lips, “Or like this?” You whisper, blowing softly over his sensitive head before you take him back into your mouth.

Jungkook lets out a mantra of “fucks” and “yes’s” as he reaches down to grip his cock, his hand covers your own as he begins moving your hand up and down on his cock. You suckle at the head and watch as he comes undone. “Oh fuckkk..” He whispers as his cock throbs, cum shooting down your throat as you swallow around him greedily.

He slumps in the seat and pants quietly while watching you clean his dick with your sinful little tongue. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that hard in his entire life before. He saw the pearly white gates of heaven just now.. “A-Ah shit, no more baby, ‘s sensitive.” He chuckles breathily when you try to suck on his (slowly softening) cock.

You pull back with a cheerful smile on your face, the corner of your mouth has drool and a bit of cum but you don’t seem to mind, “ ‘s so pretty.” You coo like his dick is the most amazing thing ever, he watches you lean over to press a tiny little kiss to the sensitive head.

Are you even real??

“C’mere,” he pats his lap, “I saw the way you were humping your own hand like a bitch in heat the entire time you had my cock in your mouth.” He says as he hauls you up, “You also deserve a nice little thank you, don’t you baby?” He grins while stroking his hands over your soft cheeks.

You nod eagerly, “Mm-hm,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “do you wanna come upstairs after this? I wanna introduce you to my bunny Luna! Oh, and we can watch some anime together because I think it’s lame you haven’t seen Sailor Moon OR Death Note.” You huff in disbelief.

Little did Jungkook know that by saying yes to all that he’d end up staying for wayyyyy longer than he initially planned. You becoming (a important) part of his life was a bonus. <3

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[vixeneptune]

A message from your future self 💌

""you did it. You literally have it all and I mean EVERYTHING you've ever wanted and more. You manifested that dream life, that dream house, that dream partner, there's so much more in store for you and you don't even know it yet! I mean the things you're gonna experience are beyond what you can even imagine rn like it's so much better. YOU are soooo much better!

I'm telling you from where I am at, I look around me and see everything I've ever envisioned for myself. I'm chilling in my dream house, abundance all around, looking at myself in the mirror with my desired face and body😍. I see my life partner who worships the ground I walk on, he's EXACTLY my type (yup you manifested him and everything went better than you think rn) he literally adores you, he gives you flowers everyday and makes you the happiest. This man will do anything for u fr.

Girl the love you're about to experience is unreal. Also the glowup you're about to have?? Ohmygod you age like fine wine.. Or more like.. You never age you just keep looking younger and prettier like howww. People wonder what your secret is. I swear it's like I never peak I'm always getting and looking better.

Ohhh and your confidence, if you think you're confident enough now just wait 🤣 I'm so confident now that I literally don't give a fuck about what anyone thinks or says like I'm so expressive and assertive and free! I'm so confident that I could literally dance in the street infront of a bunch of people, I can befriend anyone, I love doing public speeches, I feel good having all eyes on me. My confidence SHOWS it radiates for miles. How I walk, talk and act all show how confident I am. I completely trust myself now like I never have any doubts ! Yup zero doubts we are THAT secure.

I know you're waiting for it and yes, we did THAT TOO. We traveled to alot of cool places, met alot of new amazing people all over the world. You're so rich that it doesn't matter how much anything costs like you don't even have to look at the price, your man buys it for you. You're rich af too from doing your passion and girl lemme tell you.. Success is GUARANTEED for you. You'll see it.

If you ever think your physical body is not malleable, well you're so wrong. You literally shapeshifted like you have your exact desired appearance now and everyone is shocked by your glowup.. They wonder what you did or HOW you did it. I've always been beautiful but this is next level.. I'm talking MAXIMUM level of beauty, goddess level of beauty like it's unreal.

I love realizing how powerful I've always been, like I manifested all of it, you did. You're doing it rn and it's all working out behind the scenes. The moment you want something, the whole universe rearranges itself so it can give it to you, all you ever had to do is be open to receive bc it's already YOURS. Trust me. You already got it and you don't even have to try it all happened so naturally!

I'm proud of you, and I'm proud of myself. even though I already have all my desires now and I'm fulfilled, I still think there's so much more ahead, bc life just keeps on getting better for us! We ARE SO lucky you have no idea

Never give up, never settle for less. "

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING CAUTIOUS !!! LIAM L. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: the word lost its meaning when she became an aphrodisiac that didn’t need to be consumed.

content warning: smut below the cut (minors dni!), short blurb i’m sorry, fingering if you blink, suggestive, exhibitionism content, outdoor sex (hot tub), this didn’t eat i’m sorry

💌re:moony's planner request: i saw a picture of him in a hot tub and i so want like outdoor sex with the thrill that anybody can see them and get caught 🙏

note: where have i been? idk- but i hope you guys enjoyed that australia 2024 podium finishers smut tho— now all of my requests are threesomes. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

for her, the hot tub that was laid outside the deck of their secluded airbnb was meant to be a place for relaxation - the view of the mountains was right in front of her. 

the sight of the mountain was so beautiful that she couldn’t help but lean over the edge of the tub as the jetted stream let the hot water flow with movements. 

it was a delightful sight. alongside that was a serenity that the airbnb offered. the only thing that she could hear was the bubbling of the hot tub and her casual paddling beneath the water. 

but to the new zealander, the mountains in front of the tub wasn’t the delightful sight he was staring at.

it was the backside of his girlfriend; the curves that glistened because of the water while she wore nothing but a bikini that had her butt peeking out. 

liam lawson didn’t need an aphrodisiac to feel hot and bothered. not when his girlfriend was a delightful sight to see-  in the most raunchy yet romantic way possible, if liam would say so himself. 

liam didn’t even second guess as soon as he hopped into his swim trunks, slipping onto the hot tub right behind her without making her aware of his presence.

she seemed to be mesmerized by the view. liam could give her a reason to be mesmerized; it didn't have anything to do with the view though. 

she sighed softly when liam’s lips began to attach themselves onto the nape of her neck, her hips automatically pushing itself back against his as liam’s hands pulled her closer. 

under the water, his hips grinded against hers and she moaned at the friction shared between them.

“mmm- li,” she uttered, her protests falling apart because of her reactions, “we’re outdoors.” 

“hmmm…” liam didn’t even hear what she said, too busy feeling her up from behind and his hand snaking through her bikini bottom. 

she whimpered at his brief touch of her clit as she continued to protest, “people might see—“

liam smirked at her comment as he said, “yeah? in such a private area?”

“li…”

liam tutted his girlfriend softly while he continued to press against her clit and make a slow circular motion on it. “baby, we paid for the whole place. whoever sees that’s their fault.

“you love it don’t you?” liam let out a hum while he continued to nip on her ear, “you love the thought of being caught while you’re too fucked out, hm? you want to be fucked out here, no?” 

“i can tell you want to be fucked out here, baby,” liam teased his blushing girlfriend, who couldn’t help but moan and whimper. “you want people to catch you getting all horny and hot f’me.”

“yeah…” she whispered quietly.

“yeah?” liam chuckled huskily, as if he was taunting her to speak more.

he knew he had her at the palm of his hand. she was already a putty when he began touching her, so he did the next best thing that followed her reaction and liam inserted a finger into her seeping cunt. 

“you’re already wet at the thought of it and that’s not even the jacuzzi, baby,” liam crooned with a sinister grin, his other hand tugging off her bikini and leaving it to rest somewhere outside of the tub.

he kicked off his swim trunks, his toned arm reaching out to tug on her hair as she let out a pitiful whine of his name, “liam, please! fuck…”

“please what?” liam taunted, “please make you scream? make everyone know how much of a slut you are for me?” 

“please what, baby?” 

no word escaped her mouth, leaving liam to chuckle darkly. 

it was as if she was already long gone before she could even warn him about keeping it down and fucking her inside the rental instead. 

this gave liam more control and more opportunities to wear her out. the word ‘cautious’ lost its meaning the moment liam fingered her in this outdoor jacuzzi and her eyes began to roll back. 

“let’s see how much you can scream f’me, baby,” liam said, sliding his cock into her desperate hole.

he didn’t care about losing his dignity- fucking outdoors where people could possibly see them.

he was getting lost in her beauty and her sobbing while she told him that she was cumming over and over again. 

his hips couldn’t even find themselves to stop, overstimulating himself and her while liam continued to thrust his cock until he repeatedly glided into her sensitive spot. 

he couldn’t care much about anything. he couldn’t even find himself to be cautious when all he knew was that his girlfriend was weeping for his cock and for more. 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03

[slavdollz4mangione]

the one where lu is the little spoon hc 💌:

- lu is the kind of guy who always puts others first. whether he’s working long hours, helping friends move, or just being the emotional support person for everyone in his life, he rarely takes time for himself. but when he’s with you, all of that changes. with you, he feels like he can finally let his guard down and just be

- after a particularly grueling day or when his chronic back pain is flaring up, lu’s first instinct is to seek you out :’) he’ll come home, kick off his shoes, and immediately make a beeline for wherever you are. without saying a word, he’ll collapse onto the couch or bed, his tall frame folding in on itself as he curls up next to you

- and despite his height, luigi lovessss being the little spoon because there’s something about the way you wrap your arms around him that makes him feel safe and protected <3 he’ll wiggle backward until his back is pressed against your chest, letting out a soft sigh as he finally relaxes, and tells you “you’re my favorite place to be,” with his voice all heavy with exhaustion :(

- but when he’s super tired and groggy omfg LMAO he gets so sassy and whiny, especially if he feels like you’re not paying enough attention to him, like if you’re distracted by your phone or a book, he’ll nudge you with his elbow and grumble, “hey. i’m suffering over here. focus on me, please”

- which always makes you laugh and set whatever you’re doing aside, wrapping your arms around him again. “better?” you ask, and he’ll hum contentedly, his sassiness melting away as he snuggles closer. “much better,” while his voice is already slurring with sleep

- you’ve learned exactly how to comfort him when he’s feeling down or in pain. you gently massage his lower back, your fingers working out the knots and tension that have built up over the day, sometimes (more like 99% of the time), you run your fingers through his hair or trace little patterns on his arm, and he’ll melt into your touch, his breathing slowing as he starts to drift off

- but if you stop too soon, he’ll whine dramatically, “hey, no. that was working. don’t stop” and if you tease him by calling him demanding, best believe he’s gonna shoot back, “and you love me for it” (he’s not wrong!!)

- luigi loves the way you instinctively know what he needs. on days when he’s feeling particularly vulnerable, he’ll bury his face in the crook of your neck and whisper, “just hold me, please” and you do, without hesitation, because you know how much it means to him. in those moments, he feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders

- he’s not embarrassed about being the little spoon—in fact, he thinks it’s kind of funny. he would joke around by saying something like “who would’ve thought a guy my size would love this so much?” but the truth is, he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks because with you, he feels safe, loved, and completely at ease, and that’s all that matters

- for lu, cuddling like this is more than just physical comfort—it’s a reminder that he doesn’t have to face the world alone. it’s a quiet, intimate moment where he can let go of all the stress and pain and just exist in the warmth of your love. and every time you hold him, he falls a little more in love with you <33

- on weekends, when he has more time to relax, he would often suggest a “cuddle marathon.” he’d set up the couch with blankets and pillows, queue up a movie or a tv show, and pull you into his arms—or rather, wiggle into yours, groaning in satisfaction once you wrap your arms around him or when his cheek finally squishes itself into your chest

- but if you get up to grab a snack or take a phone call, he’ll literally pout like a child. “where are you going ? i thought this was a marathon. you can’t just leave me here all alone.” which you can’t help but laugh at because seeing your grown ass man of a boyfriend act like a 5 year old is amusing as hell LOL and when you promise to come back quickly, he’ll still grumble until you’re back in his arms

- he also loves the little things you do to make him feel special. whether it’s making his favorite tea, playing soft music in the background, or just letting him vent about his day, he appreciates it more than he can put into words. he would always tell you “you’re my safe haven,” in a voice so soft and sincere it makes your heart squeeze

- and when he’s feeling better, he always makes sure to return the favor. he’ll wrap his arms around you, letting you be the little spoon for a change, and whisper, “thank you for always being there for me.” it’s his way of showing you that he cherishes you just as much as you cherish him

- for luigi, being the little spoon isn’t just about physical comfort—it’s about the emotional connection you share. it’s a reminder that, no matter how tough life gets, he always has you to come home to, and that, more than anything, is what keeps him going :’)

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter seven:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: mention of depression/depressive episodes, calories, bad relationship with food and shitty family, hurt/comfort.

➴ word count: 2.3k

💌 from me to you: and now, TYPA has officially surpassed IYLMLMK word count!! how are we feeling about that? i’m feeling like the world’s biggest yapper ever but i just feel like quinn and maddie’s relationship reaches a whole other level of love and intimacy and i want u guys to feel that. by the end of this story, please let me know (hah) if i reached my goal :) enjoy this chapter and ily all so much! wrote this while listening to madison beer and while it was raining, cannot think of a better combo. also, this chapter hurts and heals me at the same time, and i hope it does the same to you.

౨ৎ

2024, MAY.

“THIS ISN’T much casual of us, is it?” you joke as you leave the car, opening the back door so you could get Bella while Quinn got your bags.

“Where’s the fun in being casual?” he jokes back, making you bite your lips, trying to hide your smile.

You and Quinn had decided to start over again, and take it easy. You were best friends and he knew you like no one else, but you grew up and, even if you didn’t want to admit it, you’d changed.

When he suggested that you go out for date nights and things people do whenever they want to be with someone, you thought that it would be a great idea. Spending time with him was one of your favorite things about living in Vancouver, so there was nothing to worry about.

Until he started to ask questions– nothing unexpected, just things like “is your favorite color still blue?” (no, I prefer purple now,) or “do you still like chocolate chip pancakes?” (more than I like myself, really,). And in the beginning it hadn’t bothered you, no, it had actually made you feel happy, wanted.

Until you remembered who you’d become.

After he and his family left, it was just you and your thoughts alone with each other, both wanting to run away but stuck inside your head. It was the things you heard from your mom, the fact that she liked to remind you that you were nothing but a shadow inside your own family and unless you were perfection itself, you wouldn’t have anything more than what she was willing to give you.

It was hearing your father, who barely spoke to you, yell at you for the tiniest things and look at you like you were the worst thing that has ever happened to him.

It was watching Peter, who once had been your best friend, your rock, your safe person, distancing himself from you, ignoring you whenever you spoke to him, leaving the sink full of dishes whenever that housekeeper wasn’t around because he knew you’d be the one cleaning them.

It was too much, and you were only fifteen. You were alone, with nothing but your thoughts and the intense, obsessive stalking of Quinn’s Instagram account, trying to understand why it was so easy for people to leave you behind.

But you didn’t blame him, or your family, how could you? It was all your doing. Maybe if you hadn’t spent too much time at the Hughes’ house, maybe if you hadn’t asked Peter to play with you so much, maybe if you were thinner and more like the models that worked at your mom’s magazine, maybe if you had been born a boy who also went to Med school, like your brother, then maybe, just maybe, things would’ve been different.

And then you moved to Los Angeles and just when you thought that things would get better, that you would get better, it all starts again. The dark days where you couldn’t do anything besides laying on your bed all day, sleeping for hours and eating perhaps a single meal per day– when and if you managed to get out of bed.

Showering became a dreadful thought because just the idea of seeing yourself in the mirror made you want to disappear. Realizing that the girl who once loved everything she touched, the girl that wore her heart outside of her body like an accessory turned into this lifeless body that rotted in bed for days made your stomach hurt and the tears run down your face.

Nicholas had been the one who helped you get out of that dark, evil place your mind had trapped you in, even when he didn’t know the reason behind it. He suggested that you should adopt a dog, the idea initially making you laugh because “I don’t want to can barely take care of myself, Nicholas, why should I adopt another living being?”. But he said that maybe you just needed a reason to keep going, and a pet could be one.

You ignored his advice, because it sounded ridiculous to you. But, one day, when you were on your way home from work, you walked past a shelter and decided to just take a look– leaving an hour later after a long cuddle session with the old dogs and Bella in your arms, eyes wet with tears when you noticed her sitting by herself, alone.

I know what it feels like, you answered when one of the workers asked you what made you choose her.

And she helped you get better, day by day, week after week. You finally spoke more than five words a week and you weren’t sleeping by yourself for the first time in years.

It felt nice to take care of someone.

But even though you got better, some days that sad, ugly feeling still made your skin crawl and your head hurt. It still came back, it still made you feel like shit.

And you didn’t want people to see that, you didn’t want Quinn to see that.

You knew that he would worry and try to find a way of helping you, just like he did whenever you had a sad day when you were younger, but you couldn’t do that to him, it wasn’t fair.

Besides that, you’re going to leave Canada in September. This thing you had going on with Quinn, no matter how happy it made you, was temporary, it wasn’t meant to last forever.

So you had to make sure that the time you spent with him was anything but perfect.

“This is so pretty” you compliment the cabin he had rented for the weekend, your first weekend off ever since you started working with your favorite brand, watching Bella roll on the green grass. “Feels like a movie.”

Quinn chuckles, opening the door for you and Bella before he gets inside with your and his bags.

If you thought the outside was pretty, the inside was ten thousand times better. The interior was a mix of stone with dark wood, the walls covered with floor to ceiling windows and the floor filled with fluffy, warm rugs. The living room couch could perfectly fit twenty people, and the kitchen had the most beautiful view you’d ever seen.

Bella started running around the second you unleashed her, jumping on the couch and sniffing the rugs, going upstairs and barking happily.

“I think Bella also likes the place,” you smile, getting closer to Quinn and kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer before initiating a sweet, gentle kiss, briefly caressing your tongue with his. He tasted like coffee and toothpaste, a weird mixture that you couldn’t get enough of.

“Don’t need to thank me, sweets,” he whispers against your lips before giving you a peck. “I asked the owners to fill up the pantry with baking stuff. I know you like to bake when you’re stressed.”

Your first instinct was to deny that you were stressed and say that you were just fine, but as always, he could see right through you. It had been a stressful week, with weird schedules and locations, besides getting used to living in another city, again.

But you thought you were doing a great job at hiding your true feelings from Quinn.

Well. Maybe not.

“I’m much better now,” you answer, not exactly lying. You are much better now. “But I guess it won’t hurt to bake a pie or two.”

“Great.” He hugs you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Let’s organize our things, and you’re free to go.”

You smile, excited to forget about your responsibilities for two days straight.

౨ৎ

BAKING FOR Quinn was now your favorite activity.

He didn’t try to get in your way like most people do whenever they see someone cooking, no. He sat on one of the stools and played with Bella while you explained to him the steps for baking the most perfect blueberry lattice pie in the entire world.

You noticed something while spending these past few weeks with Quinn: whenever you were around him, it was like calories and dieting didn’t matter. It was almost as if that voice that lived inside of your brain, who liked to remind you that you shouldn’t, couldn’t gain weight— because then you wouldn’t be perfect, the only thing your mom wanted for you— vanished, and only nice thoughts remained.

You have read about this before, in books and posts online— about people getting better because of other people. And even though you knew it was possible for someone to enjoy living again because of something (it happened with you and Bella), the thought of getting better because of another person hadn’t crossed your mind before having Quinn back in your life again.

It was nice.

The pie was ready after an hour and a half, looking deliciously tasty and perfect, which made you smile and snap a bunch of pictures of it.

You and Quinn sat down at the living room table, watching the sun setting through the windows and arguing with each other about which place had the nicest sunset: Vancouver or Los Angeles. You cut him a slice, which earned you a quick peck on your lips and a raspy thank you, watching as he munched on the pie, satisfied with his pleased reaction.

“This is my first time eating blueberry pie ever since you left.”

Quinn’s statement makes you pause, fork mid air, a slice of pie falling back onto your place.

You frown, confused. “What do you mean? You spent the last seven years without eating your favorite pie? Why?”

“What made this pie my favorite one was the fact that you were the one baking it,” he laughs humorlessly, staring at the half eaten slice on his plate. “When my mom tried making it for me a few years ago, I ended up snapping at her and earning a slap from my dad.”

“That wasn't very nice of you,” you chuckle, putting the fork down. “But I get what you mean. After you left I–” I stopped caring about everything else. “I stopped baking. Mom didn’t appreciate how caloric my food was and my dad—” he called my cooking disgusting once. “Well, he’s not a fan of sweets.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologies, and you’re not even sure why.

“What? No, it’s fine, you didn’t do anything wrong by leaving—”

“I meant I’m sorry about your family.”

You stare at him, fighting back the tears that immediately formed in your eyes. Blinking them away, you shrug.

“It’s fine.”

“It isn’t, Maddie, and you know it.” He grabs your hand underneath the table, running his thumb up and down on the back of your hand, the familiar touch making you smile.

“They’re the only family I have,” you tried to sound playful, only being half successful. “It’s alright, Quinny, I swear. Besides, we’re not here to talk about my family.” you change the topic quickly, not wanting to ruin the vibe with stories about your not so happy family.

He raises his right eyebrow at you. “Then why are we here?”

“Bella, look at him asking dumb questions,” you turn around, talking to Bella who was currently extremely busy destroying her carrot shaped toy on the carpet. “We’re here to watch my favorite movies and drink hot chocolate.”

“It’s May,” he points out.

“And?”

“It’s almost summer. No one drinks hot chocolate in May,”

“Oh my God, should we call the police? Should we invite Willy Wonka?” you laugh, getting off the chair. “Come on. I know you want it.”

“Do I at least get to choose the movie?” he theatrically sighs, also getting off the chair and following you around the gigantic cabin.

“I’ll see what I can do for you.”

You end up letting him choose the movie while you prepared the hot chocolate, which later you would regret, because he had chosen The Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, a movie that you had never seen before and will probably never watch again.

You were sitting beside him, trying your hardest to hide your tears and sniffles, because, surprisingly, Quinn looked like he was enjoying the depressing, extremely sad movie.

But you probably weren’t doing a great job because— “Baby?”

You only hum, hiding your face in your knees.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he whispers, changing his position on the couch, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to his chest, adjusting your body so you were lying on top of him, face buried in his neck. “There’s no need for you to cry, baby.”

“‘M sorry,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed and somewhat childish for breaking out like this in front of him, when he was clearly enjoying the movie.

“What are you sorry for? There’s nothing wrong with crying because you’re sad,” he kisses your temple, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling one of your thighs up, fitting you perfectly against him. “I should be the one saying sorry. I saw Jim Carrey and thought the movie was going to be funny.”

You let out a wet chuckle, inhaling his comforting scent and wishing you could stay like this forever.

He runs his thumb on your cheeks, wiping the tears away. You feel him moving around and suddenly the movie’s sounds stop, and you wonder what he’s doing, too lazy to look up and see it for yourself.

But after Mabel’s characteristic laugh, you find yourself smiling and lifting your head to stare at Gravity Falls playing on the huge TV.

“Do you still like this dumbass cartoon?” Quinn asks, making you smile wider.

“It’s not dumb. And, yeah, it’s still my favorite.”

“Good.”

After that you both stay quiet for a long time, the only sounds coming from Bella’s snores, the TV, and occasionally, your laugh.

Quinn knew exactly what to do with you, even when not even you knew what had— needed— to be done. He held you close that night and your heart felt lighter and steadier.

You wanted to be his.

So. Bad.

౨ৎ

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madisoncarter spring day

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user1 ?????????

user1 MADISON WHAT THE HELL

vic_alonso Oooooh myyy goddd

maddiecarter_updates Is this a soft launch? What?

user2 maddiecarter_updates you know shit is bad when even maddiecarterupdates is confused 😭

user3 let’s not assume things guys omg leave her alone

user7 madison you’re going to get fatter with all these carbs xx

jackhughes user7 fuck off.

user4 GUYS LOOK AT QUINN’S STORY

user5 user4 LMFAO THEYRE NOT EVEN HIDING IT

user6 user4 I’m losing the idgaf war…

user8 user4 DID YOU GUYS SEE JACK’S COMMENT WHICH ONE OF THE HUGHES IS SHE BANGING

_quinnhughes added a new story!

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