#Well then it seems we have reached a compromise then

[life-winners-liveblog]

I accept the deal

🪱🐌

*****

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

Maybe it’s just me, but family ties and status don’t really mean jack when the way you interact with your family members/loved ones is abusive (and by default, utterly unacceptable).

[blackwaxidol]

the kneejerk response, the idea or belief that when Israel as a state ceases to exist, that its settlers will become second-class citizens or outright killed is not only repetition of the same hysterical argument that has existed—yet never coming to pass—in other apartheid states but it is also indicative that the speaker has not been listening to what has been said over and over and over again by Palestinians, or perhaps that he refuses to listen entirely.

liberal or proclaimed leftists showing that they do not understand or support anticolonialism as much as they purport to be should not be unexpected, it is much easier for a person to lie back and say "oh yes i am of course an anticolonialist" without ever bothering to learn of what it is, because they believe it is simply a matter of common human decency and not an extensive history that must be learned from to be understood. the liberal believes many things for the sake of being courteous, rather than having any real interest in the matter. it is why they are shocked or appalled by its violence, and it is then that they will appeal to "both sides". the solution in such a mind as theirs is voting, or patience. anything else to them is barbarism. they are eager to buy lies about what is to them the wrong way of "going about things", so that they do not lose sleep at night.

[kbagraces]

Let it Happen - LN4

Lando Norris x singer!gf

summary: dating rumours always followed the pair but despite both of their status’ they liked to keep their private life private… until a certain someone’s private instagram gets hacked

a teensy eensy bit based on Let it Happen by Gracie Abrhams

not proof read as always!

Mornings like this were true bliss for you both. Both your lives were faced paced, loud and demanding, though you wouldn’t change it for the world, you craved the serenity of silence sometimes.

His face was pressed deeply into your crisp white pillows, soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips. The screams of fans and demanding nature of your job felt so far out of touch in these moments.

The covers stopped at the base of his torso his toned back on show, adorned with loving scratches from your antics the night before. You hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks due to him finishing his last race before the summer break began and you being chained to the studio finishing up your final touches to your second album.

Your fingers traced the loving marks upon his back, softly so he wouldn’t be disturbed, God knows he needed the rest. You noticed his face twitch to which you retracted your hand, hoping you hadn’t woken him.

Unfortunately you had.

He opened on of his eyes to look at you before mumbling, “why did you stop?” His voice deep and strained as he was still half asleep.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” You smiled at him, he turned over on his side his body now facing you, his arm reaching to your waist before pulling you into him your face slotting into his neck as he rested his chin atop of your head.

“I was waking up already, my love. It’s so freaking bright in here.”

You smiled at his comment, he always complained about the sheerness of your curtains, the sun almost always being the thing that caused the two of you to be drawn out of your slumber.

“The sun brings me good energy I’m not changing them.”

“We’ll have to compromise when we get our own place” his chest vibrated as he spoke. You were slightly taken aback. You were so head over heels in love with Lando but you hadn’t ever spoken about moving in together. Granted you assumed it would happen one day but you hadn’t spoken about such thing yet.

“Don’t freak out.” He said pulling away from you slightly, to look you in the eyes now. He knew you too well. He knew about your past and how you’d jumped into relationships before, moving too quick, getting caught up in fantasies that only left you hurt and alone.

You were closed off when Lando met you, God did he have to put the work in to prove he wasn’t going to mess you around like the boys before. But that was the difference between him and them, they were boys, he was a man.

“I’m not freaking out.”

“You’re freaking out.” He chuckled, as the wideness of your eyes contradicted the calmness of your tone.

“It’s going to happen. We won’t rush but it’s you and me forever now. Whenever you’re ready of course but don’t fight it, let it happen.” His hands stroked your fallen piece of hair from your eyes to behind your ear, his hand cupped your faces pulling you in, a gentle comforting kiss upon your lips.

He almost felt your dismay leave your body as you became less tense as a result of his touch. Your body always betrayed you, he just had a way of making everything seem okay.

Your life was stressful but Lando made every noise and distraction quiet with the simplest of touches and the kindest words.

Your domestic bliss was interrupted by the shriek of your phone, your alarm blaring notifying you it was time to get back to reality.

“What are you going to do whilst I’m at the studio?” You queried as you stood at the foot of the bed, pulling on your favourite pair of jeans.

“Absolutely nothing.” He smirked as he finally sat up in your bed. It was his first full day off from work. His phone was finally allowed to be on Do Not Disturb, he had two weeks of silence before he had to get back to training.

You hummed in response, you wish with everything you could just lounge around with him all day, but unfortunately your life couldn’t stop just because he was back. You had an album to finish.

“Can I swing by later?” He was really testing the waters today. Your relationship was sacred and you did all you could to keep it out of the public eye.

There was whispers here and there, but they went as quickly as they came. Your biggest blip was when you attended the Miami Grand Prix this year.

You two were doing so well, to the outside world you just seemed like any other celebrity attending the race for sponsorship deals and relevancy as the rumours of your sophomore album were hitting the news as you were practically living in the studio.

All was fine until Lando crossed the finish line, winning his first ever race in F1. You let him celebrate with his team initially, knowing if you got too close you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from telling him how immensely proud of him you were.

But your composure went out the window the second you saw him on the top step. You were stood in the crowd below, tears pooling in your eyes, you were in awe of him and that’s when the picture was snapped.

It circulated for a while, lasting longer than the whispers of before. But like any thing in the modern age, it got overtaken but some bigger news about the latest affair in Hollywood.

“Please y/n. I just want to see you doing what you’re best at.” He begged, you appreciated his support, you were convinced he was your biggest fan.

“Maybe another day Lan. Not yet, I’m sorry.” You saw his face waver, he wouldn’t pressure you, but his disappointment was far from hidden, it was clear.

“I’m sorry.” You offered, “another day I promise.”

You kissed goodbye and set on your way leaving your boyfriend to ponder about your LA apartment.

———

You were sat on the studio floor, cross legged. Your notepad before you, lyrics written messily across the pages. Words written, erased and rewritten, you just couldn’t get the thoughts from your head to paper. You were getting increasingly frustrated with, this song. You had the initial idea and it had to be perfect, it was the final song of the album and it had to be perfect.

“Y/n go home, you’re going to drive yourself crazy.” Your producer sighed to you, he believed the album was perfect the way it was. It was so ready to be released he was unsure why this idea you had couldn’t wait for another project.

You raised your hand at him, mumbling some words, jotting them down and erasing them once again.

“Argh!” You were close to tears as you threw your pen across the room. Why couldn’t you just get the words out.

“Y/n! Home!” Your producer demanded, you were getting nowhere, you both know it. A broken pen he could deal with but at this point he feared you’d start going for his equipment.

You sulked the whole way home, the words in your head needed to be sung, they just couldn’t flow like the usually do.

Lando was perched on the couch as you skulked through the front door. He noticed the slouch in your shoulders and the frown etched on your face.

“What’s wrong?” He sat forward on the edge of the sofa, his legs apart. You sat on the floor beneath him, your head fell onto his lap as you sighed.

“I can’t get this done. I’m so close. I’m so desperate to get this final song perfect that it’s anything but perfect I can’t do it, I can’t do it.” You repeated, tears welling in your eyes. “I don’t want to cry this is so silly. But I need it to be perfect.”

He bent down kissing your forehead, before lifting your chin off his thigh to look up at him, your eyes glazed over, lips slightly wobbling.

“You don’t have to be strong here my love. Let it happen.”

——

Lando arose to the sound of your phone ringing. You still passed out on his chest your eyes still puffy from the outpour of emotion and stress you had been bottling up.

He picked up your phone, curious to see who was ringing at the crack of dawn.

Lillian (PR) 11 missed calls…

Oh.

The phone rang in his hand again, he slid from beneath you, you needed to rest. Perhaps it was a good thing Lillian was ringing about. He walked into the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind him before swiping to answer the phone.

“Y/N thank God!”

“Sorry it’s Lando, she’s still sleeping.” Your PR team was obviously aware of your relationship, they were the first people you told when you decided to keep the relationship under wraps.

“Actually you might be better to break the news to her,” her tone serious, concerned.

“Her instagram has been hacked,”

That’s not too bad Lando thought.

“Her private instagram, the photos of the two of you are plastered all over the internet. We’re attempting to do damage control but with the magnitude of both your fan bases it’s almost impossible. Ordinarily a relationship leak is not something to be too concerned about, but we know her views on it, we fear it’ll delay her progress.”

Lando wanted to bite back, their concern not being for your well-being as it should but for the delay of the album which will be the funding for their lives this year.

“Ok I’ll tell her, just do what you can.”

With that he hung up, unlocking your phone to check what had really been leaked.

There was photos of your first date, photos of you in the McLaren paddock, photos of the two of you at your sisters wedding almost everything you had every captured of your journey together was on the instagram, there was no escaping this. You couldn’t even deny it was Lando. It was there in colour for the world to see.

He checked the comments on some of the reposts,

username1: wait they are actually so cute together

username2: who is he though? not good enough for y/n

username3: she’s not as pretty without make up…

username4: omg new parents! mum & dad is that u?!?!

The responses mixed, the sound of your door opening pulled him from his scrolling.

You laughed blissfully ignorant at the sight, Lando stood randomly in your hallway, snooping through your phone.

“What are you doing out here? Having a snoop? Making sure I haven’t got 20 other boys on the go.” You laughed at yourself, one he didn’t reciprocate.

“Lan?”

“Don’t freak out.”

“Every time you say that I freak out, you’re already freaking me out!”

He turned the phone towards you, your private moments with him on display the world.

“No, no, no”

“It’s okay, my love it’s fine. The reaction is pretty good, Lillian called the team is working on it, but I’m afraid they’re out there now. But maybe it’s a good thing, we can be us without hiding?”

“It’s not about hiding Lan! It’s about protecting.” You shouted, you weren’t shouting at him, he knew that, you were shouting out of frustration.

“Come here.” He exclaimed reaching his hands out for you to take, when you didn’t move he grabbed them from the intense grip on your phone, sliding the device into his pocket and bringing your empty hands together between his.

He planted a loving kiss on your hands, “I promise you, this will all die down and we can be us again, we can still be private, it’ll still be ours.”

Your eyes filled of doubt, you wanted nothing more than to believe him, but as soon as your previous relationship became public they crashed an burned, each for different reasons but there was a theme to your previous break ups.

“Hey.” He snapped you out of your thoughts once more, a skill only he had. “It’s not going to happen again. I’m not doing anywhere. I’ve told you, you’re my future. It’s us two forever whether it’s just between us or us and the whole world. You have to trust me, I love you. Sometimes you just have to let things happen.”

———

yourusername:

the ones you haven’t seen…

My brand new single “Let it Happen” will be releasing in two weeks. A little taster of my sophomore album, “The Secret of Us” !!

@landonorris just for you i let it happen ❤️

[galene-gothic]

𝖶𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Hi snowies, I’m back with another Barbie princess and the pauper themed reading !! I hope this reading found you in good health and that you like it, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES (summer sale and offers)

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱

You’ve experienced an ending (possibly even multiple ones) that were very heavy. It was the kind of ending (or a string of them) that came with a lot of pain and hurt but was inevitable, something that could simply not be saved. For many of you a lot of backstabbing and betrayal took place, possibly people bitching too. It could have very well been a whole group of people disliking you or turning against you. I’m strongly getting that you’ve often experienced people not liking you for any reason at all. For many of you, all of this took place at the same time (betrayal, people disliking you for no reason, etc.) You’ve lost a lot or at least feel a strong sense of loss (or have had to feel that way at some point). You have many deep wounds and right now, life seems to be more peaceful for you. However, you’re worn out, tired and disappointed. I need to give you a virtual pat on the back for the way you seem to be handling the situation though. You let things end even though you had to reach the lowest possible point mentally. You allowed yourself time and space to heal and recover. You have always been the type to try your best so you were just like “nothing more can be done now, I tried my best”. Right now, you’re really focused on yourself and your own internal values. Your energy is still not the most harmonious but the way you’re dealing with things seems to make it all harmonious again. You have released many fears and are still doing so. ‘I look to you’ by Whitney Houston is coming through for some reason. You’ve reached a point where you have a harder time trusting people and doubt loyalty but it doesn’t seem to be negative, obviously there are days when the voices do get to you but you’re able to tame them. It’s just that going forward, you want to choose and do what’s best for you. You’re still struggling emotionally but it’s only so that you can do even better going forward and yes, you have dealt with this situation really well. You should be proud of yourself because some of us wouldn’t have been able to think straight if we were in your place. You seem to know that whatever you lost wasn’t that great to begin with and every loss of yours has only led to more wins but one thing that I need to make you aware of is that everyone who lost you has received the biggest L, even if at that time, they were having the time of their lives, you’ve clearly won. You’re free to begin again. What has passed has passed. You’re free to, in fact, you have every right to believe that being in your life and someone having you in their life is a privilege. You’re free to believe that trust needs to be earned. You’re free to believe that you’ve had a string of bad connections and that their words, and actions hurt you so you have every right to feel bad and not want anything to with them. You’re free to believe that you don’t have to fully forgive someone to move on. You’re free to stand up for yourself and not feel bad for doing so. Even if you made a mistake, if someone is going overboard with punishing you by treating you shitty and disrespecting you, you have every right to stand up for yourself as long as you’re still aware of what you did wrong and are holding yourself accountable instead of acting as though you’ve never hurt a fly. You’ve walked away and surrendered which is the best that you could have done, I’m proud of you. You’re free to not want to communicate maturely with those who refused to communicate maturely with you in the past. You’ve always had a personality where you don’t mind compromising for those you love and because it comes so naturally to you, you don’t even bother to voice it out.

However, just because you don’t talk the talk, instead you just walk the walk, people act as though your sacrifices were not big. You’re allowed to have resentments against people as long as you don’t burden yourself. You’re free to find peace in the fact that you’re a great and loving person who has never minded giving up their ego for a greater good, that you’ve always looked at yourself and your loved ones as a team and that’s not a bad quality, you just didn’t know better and had people who weren’t the same as you, around yourself and that’s okay. You’re free to believe and know that you were not being difficult or trying to pick fights, you were trying to fix things because you really cared and wanted to give, and do your best. You’re free to forgive yourself for not voicing out your needs sooner. You’re free to not want to forgive some people, you’re free to deny that you weren’t even involved with certain people if that’s what brings you peace. Remember that the past doesn’t even exist, no one can narrate and decide your story except you, and the truth is, people cannot exist in your reality unless you let them ;). You’re free to not have empathy for those who didn’t have empathy for you. You’re free to be rude and standoffish with those who deserve it. You’re free to believe that it’s okay for people to leave such a bitter taste in your mouth that you wouldn’t want to help them even if they were living out their last few days with a beating heart. You’re allowed to believe that you’re not always the bad person, no matter how much you’ve been villainised, you’ve always tried to watch your actions and when you did make mistakes, you always tried to make up for them, and usually, you didn’t even do anything wrong. You’ve often had people hate you because they’re envious of and feel inferior to you in some way but then they try to make it seem as though it’s your mistakes and actions that they hate you for. You’ve had people trying to isolate you, you’ve had people telling mutuals not to talk to you, you’ve had people trying to turn people against you just for the thrill of putting you down because it’s fun to try to bring down someone who they feel inferior to, it makes them feel superior, watching you question yourself but what they don’t seem to know is that you question yourself to better yourself because you don’t view mistakes as unforgivable sins, you want to take accountability, make amends, do whatever you can to repair the damage that you may have done and do better in the future instead of drowning in self guilt like they want you to 😭. Even if you did temporarily fall into self guilt, you managed to come right out and you always will. You’re free to believe that you’re a good person, you’re free to have faith in your own greatness and embrace your mistakes in a way where you put it all behind yourself, understand that however others have treated you has been wrong as well. You’re free to believe that you’re a good person no matter how many unethical things you may have done, no matter how much others have tried to villainise you. You’re allowed to be cold to those who used your mistakes to try to get you to break. If I was you, I would avoid doing anything that I could possibly regret doing in the future. You’re free to understand that many of your past actions have been shitty but those who jumped to try and knock you down to a peg were not saints either. If they did have a problem with what you did, they would discuss your actions, not your character, they just had a problem with you, and they would sure as hell not gang up against and isolate you. You are allowed to leave your past behind (including any of the actions that you’re not proud of) and do better in the future. Just remember, you’re always free to begin again and you’re always free to believe. When you find the place where your heart belongs, you’ll never leave.

꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱

The destiny that’s written in your heart is to be seen. Many of you are interested in lifestyles that bring about a lot of eyes on you (possibly being a public figure). I don’t even think that you need to be known on a wide scale, it’s about the expression and success for you. You want to be able to make people happy and help them remain optimistic during hard times. You’re also supposed to be very generous. I just heard that the destiny that’s written in your heart is to belong to everyone, not in a negative way but in a way where everyone has a piece of the good deeds you’ve done inside their hearts and so you belong to them in some capacity. You’re supposed to have a lot of personal integrity and just be an abundant person overall. Even if you are not a public figure or an aspiring one, you’re supposed to be the light in many people’s lives. Due to how you’re going to belong to everyone, you’re also going to have to prioritise your alone time. To you, the time that you spend by yourself is going to be very precious. There are going to be people who are going to want to come into your life in order to dim your light and you’re going to have to find peace in life again and again. YES, PEOPLE ARE GOING TO ACTIVELY TRY TO ADD LACK OF PEACE INTO YOUR LIFE 😍. You’re meant to grow to be someone who’s not really that problematic. Which is why, you may have to step out of character a lot as a teen and early adult, you’ll have to learn how to stay firm in wanting to protect your peace and keep your character strong. Your destiny is to remain firm in your karma and have a strong sense of integrity. You’re supposed to learn how to protect your energy because you will have a lifestyle where you sort of belong to everyone but that’s not realistic, there are only certain people who deserve you in their lives, so you’ll have to learn how to balance it all. Karma is really big in your spread. You’re someone who’s experienced karma, often immediately. You’re supposed to learn many life lessons and lead a life of integrity. Your destiny if you manage to harness it, is to attain status and power but you’ll consistently have to work on balancing different aspects of your life (because you’re going to have it all). I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱

Right away, you could be coming from pile 1. If not, much like the previous pile, you’ve undergone an ending too. Yes, this is in fact the ending of whatever situation or situations that took place but that’s the good news, that’s what you’re free to begin from again. When you’re at the lowest, the only place to go to is upwards ;). Who had potato and egg curry/likes it? Maybe, someone here is going to cook it or the dish holds some significance to you? It just randomly came through, doesn’t have to resonate for everyone. The ending doesn’t seem to be singular honestly, I feel like there was a whole cycle of multiple endings that took place but with many delays. If you ever find yourself feeling guilty about not getting over it or feel as though it’s your fault because you delayed these cycles, please be kinder to yourself. When things end, you’re left empty but what happens when a container is left empty? It gives room for new stuff to fill up that space. It’s important for you to not dwell on this ending - the guilt of not ending it sooner, wishing it had never ended, the emptiness you feel, etc. You’re free to begin from everything you’ve ever known because there is so much more in the future, in fact, even in the present itself for you to know. If you’re refusing to end a cycle, you’re only making it harder on yourself, I hope that you’ll be able to start again, no matter how much time it may take. Some of you feel guilty towards yourself because you know that you’re over it, you’re just not letting yourself let go completely. It’s become a habit to think about it, feel certain emotions when you reminisce so it feels foreign for you to move on and feel peace. Even if you’re still emotionally attached to the past, make the conscious effort to move forward. Please remember “no closure is a closure”. No matter how stagnant you feel or have felt, no matter how long you’ve felt it for, no matter how familiar the feeling is to you, you’re free to get out of this energy. Even if you feel as though you were unable to make the most out of your potential so far, even if you feel as though you haven’t achieved much, no matter how disappointed you’ve felt in yourself, don’t burden yourself with such feelings. You’re free to move on and achieve a lot going forward. “Though you may not know where your gifts may lead and it may not show in the start, when you live your dream, you’ll find destiny is written in your heart.” Why are you so concerned about everyone? Why do you try to make things right with your actions even if you aren’t interested in maintaining certain connections? It’s because you’ve achieved a lot when it comes to character. If you feel misunderstood even though you’ve done a lot for others without even talking about it because that’s just you, if you felt betrayed, it’s them, not you. Fight against their opinions, they just dislike how you stand for the things that wish they stood for, they also dislike how you are the way they wish to be in some capacity.

Continue soaring forward with courage, resilience and conviction. You’re allowed to want what you want without always having to adjust to other people’s needs, desires, personalities, lifestyles and actions. Even if you may feel like you’ve betrayed yourself in the past, know that you were living by your truth of loving and keeping your actions in check, you’re always free to begin again and live more truthfully to yourself. In fact, now you know a lot more than you did back then, isn’t that in itself a blessing? Never let anyone influence you and your approach to interpersonal connections. You’re likely a more long term kinda person due to how much you pour into everything and everyone. You’re free to believe that you’re a great person even if you aren’t breaking your leg to please others. At this point, you likely know well enough about that because you seem to have a pretty strong sense of self or are developing it (and have been making good progress with it). You’re free to stand up for yourself and your beliefs. It’s time to be your most honest and authentic self now. You’ve likely started feeling called to it already. No matter how much pressure is placed upon you or how much you’re criticised or blamed, you’re allowed to believe in yourself. You’re allowed to have boundaries and to be fairly protective of yourself. You’re allowed to want to be pursued and want to be courted romantically. You’re allowed to desire to be wooed off your feet xD. You’re allowed to follow whatever your heart’s calling is. You’re allowed to move forward acting more graceful and strong in character and even physically if you’d like. You’re allowed to move your attention onto better things if whatever you’re focused on is affecting you negatively. You’re allowed to repeat mistakes as long as you manage to learn from them in the end. “I think all of us wanna feel something that we’ve forgotten or turned our backs on because maybe we didn’t realise how much we were leaving behind.” It’s okay to make sacrifices, it’s okay to make wrong decisions, it’s okay to learn, that’s how life is. You’re free to desire and believe in a true and deep love connection that you know exists because you’re full of the love that you wish to receive. You’re free to desire a deep connection full of mutual admiration, respect and love. You’re free to want to share your life with someone, just make sure that you’re not going into it with desperation. Your standards are not too high as long as you know that you’re asking for what you can give out. You’re free to want to be around wise people. You’re free to want to have a romantic connection with someone controlled, wise, ethical and respectable. You don’t have to feel bad about taking certain things seriously even if those around you don’t. Like supposing sex is a big thing for you, in this generation that’s kind of rare but it’s okay, do right by yourself. You’re free to have an impartial judgment in the beginning for your own good. You’re free to vet out and choose who deserves to be in your life and who doesn’t. It’s okay to want to strengthen your own character and reputation. You’re free to craft yourself and your life however you want, it’s your life to live.

꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱

The destiny that’s written in your heart is to leave the past behind. You’re the pile that will either deal with extreme loneliness or isolation of some sort that will only lead to you changing and growing emotionally. If you feel like most things have not worked out for you, please just know that whatever has not worked out is exactly why thing’s are working out for you, you’re going to see it while you’re living your destiny. Somehow, no matter what you go through, no matter how many times you’re hurt, betrayed, etc. you are meant to only continue to become more loving. The more you hurt, the more you learn how to love (yourself and others) is the energy that I’m getting. It’s important for you to be in touch with the present rather than staying stuck on anything from the past, don’t even hold onto the regrets, that’s how you’re blocking your own destiny. You might be the pile that got shamed for being emotional at some point and being too nonchalant at another, you’re going to get closer to yourself which will ultimately lead you to being more in tune with your own emotional nature. The more you’ll grow, the more you’ll embrace and learn just how much of a blessing it is to choose to be ever loving in a bitter world that wants you to be bitter as well. The way you are, your sensitive nature, the way you feel, the way you love, the amount of devotion and loyalty you give out has led you to being hurt, disappointed and regretful several times. There have been times when people have terribly embarrassed because you tried to see the best in them. The clown emoji is coming through, gosh 🤡😭. However, the destiny that’s written in your heart is strongly intertwined with loving and loyalty, you value genuine connections and are extremely compassionate, as you grow older, you’ll learn how to not make everyone’s problems your own. You’re meant to learn healthy boundaries as you grow older, you’ll learn how to extend your love and compassion towards yourself, that’s how you’ll unlock a major part of your destiny. You’re supposed to come in terms with the fact that maybe you weren’t the problem after all. You seem to have taken “the world is your family” too literally, you take on everyone’s problems and sorrows, and try to love and help everyone. Especially when younger, that was what you were like.

As you grow older and finally realise that maybe you weren’t the problem after all, you’ll start seizing opportunities as you let go of regret. It’s going to be a bittersweet but beautiful time. No matter what you may go through, you’ll only gain more self awareness due to it. You’ll start focusing on the more positive aspects of life and yourself. You’ll eventually start having gratitude and find your zest for life again. You’ll learn that you’re not everyone’s mother or caregiver and that what you bring to the table, and who you are is deeply valuable. You’re destined to learn just a little selfishness, not in a sense of only caring about yourself but in a sense of putting yourself first. I’m not sure why but your sex drive keeps on coming through. You either masturbate quite a bit or well, just have a high libido xD. You might have started masturbating much younger than most as well. Doesn’t have to resonate but that’s what came through. I wouldn’t be surprised if this pile has a mother wound or just female figures being unsupportive and problematic towards you. It’s definitely not going to be everyone but you may find yourself having a bad experience with many female figures while growing up. It could be something as simple as you think that you’re good with a certain girl or woman just to find out that they dislike you. You’re meant to have it all, abundance in the truest senses. That’s the destiny that’s written in your heart. You may be the pile that’s not afraid to dream and not just dream but also try your best to execute it. If you have to give up on your dreams for whatever reason, you may feel terribly wrong from within. The destiny that’s written in your heart is a lot of domestic bliss as well. You’re meant to have people who accept and understand your differences in your life. You’re meant to be emotionally content. The reason why you have a hard time with short term, casual stuff is because you’re meant to experience long term deep attachments. The reason you’re so loyal, feel so deeply and know how to be dedicated is because you’re supposed to find worthy enough people to form such lovely and long term connections with. You’re passionate, don’t even try to suppress that true nature of yours by trying to explore some half hearted stuff. You’re well rounded so you’re meant to experience a well rounded life - a blissful home life, a great career, a strong personality and being proud of yourself, you’re meant to have it all. All of this is the destiny that’s written in your heart. I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱

This could be the pile that may have lost their way temporarily or were unable to focus on things that mattered at some point (education, money, career, etc.) You’re free to start again when it comes to education and your goals (educational, career, character, skills, so on and so forth). It’s time for you to believe in your own maturity and sense of independence. You’re free to begin again no matter how many times you may have quit or lost your path. You’re a very responsible person who is focused on building something for yourself right now. You’re free to take on this identity wholly and start/continue showing up consistently for yourself. Maybe you used to be like this as a child, you had all your priorities in place but as you grew up, you started burning out or something just caused you to stray off your path. It’s okay, as long as you get back on track. You’ve always been a very helping and trustworthy person with a strong will. You used to be really reliable, responsible and ambitious even as a kid. Even if you feel like you’ve disappointed yourself, it’s never too late to get back to yourself and your goals. Believe in and stay firm in your own karma (actions/deeds). A routine would really help you. You’re free to start trying to make the most out of your potential. Maybe, you were pushed into a period of solitude causing you to realise that you need to get back on track? It doesn’t have to be for everyone, it’s only for a select few of you. You might have ended up overindulging at some point when younger which led you to straying from your path. It could be an overindulgence of anything - liquor, heartbreak, friends, freedom, etc. You may have wasted that time but the fact that you know what it feels like to enter such an energy means that you’ll avoid it going forward. It’s good that you’ve managed to live such different lifestyles and take on such different identities, just to get back to being yourself and realising that you always knew who you were, and that life is a lot about having the courage to live as who you truly are. If you don’t have a social life or have too much of it (envy, rivalry, lack of approval but also people around you) causing you to either think too much or not have enough space to think, just remember that you’re free to begin again. If you don’t have much of a social life currently, you’ve dealt with envy, rivalry, lack of approval, disappointments, end of friendships, etc. before.

Some of you may be going through it right now, if yes, you’re free to begin again, trust me, it’s going to get better ;). You’re free to believe that your next relationships (platonic and romantic) are going to be great ones. You’re free to believe that change is coming in and it’s going to be big, and in the best way possible. Patience is important here though. Don’t settle and don’t give into desperation or urges of any sort. You’re free to begin again when it comes to self improvement. You’re free to put the past behind you and patiently make the most out of the present while looking forward to a bright future. You’re free to explore and expand beyond what you thought your interests and aesthetics were limited to. You’re free to claim fulfilment. You’ve overcome so much, give yourself a little pat on the shoulder, will you? You’re allowed to go with the flow of things while consistently working on whatever you want. Consistency and patience are guaranteed to reward you as long as you use your brain and abilities to the fullest. Plan but don’t stay stuck on the planning phase. You’re doing so well, please be proud of yourself as well. While others may talk about how much they’ve done, how they are, like they may really boast it, you don’t boast because that’s just innately in you and why would you boast about something that’s just natural to you? BUT THEY’RE REALLY BIG TRAITS AND THINGS IN REAL LIFE! You’re free to let go of extremism in order to find peace. You’re free to make peace with situations even if they were one sided. You’re free to reprioritise and have faith in your priorities even if your priorities were not in the right places for a while. You’re free to move on from the life that was not flowing correctly. You’re free to heal completely even if no one witnessed it and you’re free to feel proud of yourself even if there was no one to witness how much you’ve grown. All work, no play will make you a dull one, please try to strike a good balance between studies/work and life. You’re free to try to manage life better. Your past does not exist, it does not matter. Believe in yourself and your dreams, your hopes and wishes will come true as long as you’re willing to work for them. You’re free to move forward with more confidence and passion, grabbing opportunities and communicating well. You’re likely already a great communicator, if not through speech, it may be through writing but believe in yourself, it’s better to go after the life you want rather than convincing yourself that you’re happy with an average life. Remember, you’re always free to begin again and you’re always free to begin, when you find the place that your heart belongs, you’ll never leave.

꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱

The destiny that’s written in your heart is quite interesting. You’ve always desired to be looked up to. There’s something traditional and old school that you want, the old school romance, the old school love, the old school family, whatever it may be. It’s because it’s in your destiny. You could be someone who doesn’t enjoy having jokes made about them or didn’t like them when younger. You do not appreciate being the butt of any joke due to how much you value mutual respect. It’s in your destiny to love and adore, and to be loved and adored. You’re likely the marriage type. You want an equal and all encompassing love in which your partner treats you like their own and you treat them like your own. You desire to operate with your partner as a team, a family, united and with each other instead of egoistic and against each other. It’s because you’re destined for that. You’re meant to have a reluctance to explore anything that’s not deep and intense (romantically). You’re meant to have moments when you feel unsuccessful, like you’ve not achieved much, like you’ve not been able to live up to your potential so that you can find it in you to strive towards it. At some point, you’re going to be like “I’ve always known who I am, who I want to be. I’ve always known what was right and yet I strayed off.” That was meant to happen so that you can be more confident in who you are. Due to your deep emotions and the way you feel responsible for everyone and everything, and you desire to have an ethical and good character, you tend to be confused a lot because people try to make you think that you’re doing something wrong? That’s the entire reason why you strayed off your path in the first place. You’re going to be pressured into making decisions without knowing what it is that you truly want. You’re going to find yourself being very emotionally overwhelmed at some point because you also have a tendency to feel things deeply. You won’t know what it is that you truly want. There will be a point where you’ll wonder if you even have faith in yourself at all. You might get severely betrayed at some point when younger, likely by multiple people but might have mixed feelings regarding them because the situations will just be so cloudy. Also, you’re a genuinely really good person so your desire for connection will lead you to treat people as if they are in the same team as you even if they aren’t because you will not be aware of it, you’ll have their best interests at heart but when all of this rose tinted glasses, confusion, fog or whatever you want to call it fades away, you’ll feel as though you lived in an illusion for a quite a while. You’re someone who has a lot of enemies due to your naturally great character. In this world, many people enjoy tearing each other down, you’ll have to learn how to strategically move through life. You’re able to be very strategic, it’s just that you have ethics and morals, and care about people so you try not to hurt them. You’re going to have to learn how to be yourself and follow your path unapologetically no matter who it hurts.

Many of your friends tend to envy you and want similar things that you want, possibly even love interests, don’t feel guilty about doing and choosing what’s best for you. Most of these people desire to be better than you because they do dislike you to some capacity, one more reason to not feel bad. You’re meant to be courageous enough to go for what you want, even if it might cause you to end up in scandals or ostracised because at the end, you manage to gain so much from it, in every way. “You need to be cold to be queen, keep your eyes on the price, Jenny Humphrey. You cannot make people love you but you can make them fear you.” You have had friends who turned out to be envious of you at some point. In fact, you often attract people like this but it does help you grow. You are going to learn how to be selfish with these people. With those who do deserve your love and view you as a team, you’re going to treat them as if they were you, you’re going to give them the best and will try your best to be there for them. Those who see and understand you are going to have your back at all times. You’re going to change and grow a lot through all the envy and one sided rivalry driven conflicts but that will only get you to be more morally driven. You’re going to become more empathetic, trustworthy and a great adviser to those who deserve it, and a selfish, cold person to those who don’t. That’s kind of your destiny because when you’re going to be all kind and giving, having the best interest of everyone at heart, viewing them as a team, they’re going to undervalue you and take you for granted. They’re going to abuse your generosity and giving nature, they’ll also be mean to you, as if nothing you give is enough for them, even though you’re probably the best that they will find but you’ll likely learn the lesson of putting yourself quite young (by your early twenties) because you’ll have already experienced a lot by then. You’re probably meant to be very charitable though. Also, the deep connections that you’ll have (both romantic and platonic) and I mean the healthy, non confusing and lasting ones, they’ll be sacred to you. Those people will understand you on a whole different level and will treat you with such care, it’s touching. You truly do deserve this kind of love. I’m so happy for you. When someone is like you, many will dislike you for your greatness while others will want to find both - more of your greatnesses and your weaknesses in order to love you, in order to have you in their life, in order to be in your life because they’ll see you as someone to treasure, because they’ll grow to love you more and more, the more they get to know you. This is sweet, isn’t it? You’re going to start craving strong and mutual love quite young and you’ll start having a mature approach to relationships. It’s likely because you spent quite some time in illusions while what you were giving out was very real so you’ll crave that same realness because you’ll know that you deserve it. Yes, you will receive it as long as you don’t bend into settling and staying stuck in illusions. All of this is the destiny that’s written in your heart. I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.

[satellite-evans]

Not Again

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: This time it is another sibling that interrupts benedict and Y/N during a private moment

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff, teasing, kissing

A/N:

This is the second part to Caught in the Act, I hope you all enjoy

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

You and Benedict decided to escape the bustle of the Bridgerton household by taking a leisurely stroll through the estate's expansive gardens. The fresh air and vibrant colors of the blooming flowers provided a sense of calmness.

The garden was one of your favorite places, a sanctuary where you could lose yourselves in the beauty of nature and each other’s company. The scent of roses and lavender wafted through the air, carried by a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves and made the flowers dance. The gravel path crunched softly underfoot as you walked hand in hand, Benedict's thumb drawing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

Benedict glanced over at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, we could always hide out in the gazebo. It's secluded and peaceful."

You smiled, feeling a sense of adventure bubble up inside you. "Lead the way, Mr. Bridgerton."

The gazebo was nestled at the far end of the garden, surrounded by tall hedges and flowering shrubs. It was a charming, ivy-covered structure with a white lattice roof, offering a perfect hideaway from the world. As you approached, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, admiring how beautiful it looked.

As soon as you reached the gazebo, Benedict pulled you into his arms, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. The soft murmurs of the garden, the chirping of birds, and the distant hum of bees created a natural symphony that seemed to celebrate your love.

"Benedict," you murmured against his lips, "someone might see us."

"Let them," he whispered back, his hands roaming your back. "I don't care."

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Benedict's touch was both gentle and possessive, pulling you closer as if he wanted to convey his love and desire through the embrace alone. His lips moved with a hunger that matched your own, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between you all day.

Lost in the intoxicating mix of passion and affection, you allowed yourself to melt into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket. Every touch, every kiss felt like an affirmation of the deep connection you shared, a bond that transcended any embarrassment or interruption.

But just as the intensity of the moment peaked, the tranquility of the garden was shattered by the sound of approaching footsteps. You both jumped apart, hearts racing, turning to see none other than Anthony Bridgerton standing at the entrance of the gazebo, his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face.

"Well, well, well," Anthony drawled, his eyebrow raised. "What do we have here?"

You felt your face heat up with embarrassment. "Anthony, we were just—"

"Just what?" he interrupted, his tone teasing. "Enjoying a private moment in the middle of the garden where anyone could walk by?"

Benedict sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Anthony, do you ever knock before entering? Honestly, it's becoming a family habit."

Anthony chuckled, shaking his head. "Not for family. Besides, it's not every day I catch my brother in such a compromising position."

You buried your face in your hands, feeling utterly mortified. The humiliation of being caught again by a Bridgerton sibling was almost too much to bear. Benedict, on the other hand, looked more annoyed than embarrassed. "What do you want, Anthony?"

"I was looking for you," Anthony replied, his tone becoming more serious. "Mother wants to discuss the arrangements for the upcoming ball, and she insists on having everyone's input."

Benedict sighed again, clearly reluctant to leave your side. "Fine, we'll be there in a minute."

Anthony nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Don't take too long. You know how Mother gets when we're late."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you and Benedict alone once more. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration.

"I swear, this family has a knack for showing up at the most inconvenient times," Benedict muttered, pulling you back into his arms.

You couldn't help but laugh, but it was a strained sound, reflecting your inner turmoil. "I suppose that's part of the charm of being a Bridgerton," you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

As the reality of the situation settled in, your amusement faded, replaced by a sense of vulnerability. "I can't believe we were caught again. First Eloise, now Anthony. It's so embarrassing, Benedict."

Benedict cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to form. "I'm so sorry, my love. I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted to spend some private time with you."

You nodded, appreciating his sincerity. "I know, and I love that about you. But you have to admit, this is partly your fault."

Benedict's eyes widened in mock indignation. "My fault? How is this my fault?"

You managed a small, teasing smile. "You're the one who insists on these secret rendezvous in places where your siblings have a habit of showing up unannounced. Maybe next time we should pick somewhere a bit more secluded?"

Benedict laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Point taken. Next time, I promise to choose a better location."

You leaned into his touch, feeling the tension dissipate. "Good. Because as much as I love our little adventures, I'd prefer them without an audience."

Benedict pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice filled with affection. "Deal. No more surprise appearances by the Bridgertons."

As you approached the grand entrance, laughter from inside reached your ears, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the sound of light chatter. You exchanged a glance with Benedict, both of you sharing a quiet moment of relief that the embarrassing interruption in the garden was behind you.

Just as you were about to step inside, a familiar voice rang out from the doorway. "Well, well, well! What do have we here?"

You froze, turning to see Eloise Bridgerton leaning against the doorframe, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. Benedict sighed beside you, clearly resigned to yet another round of teasing from his ever-curious sister.

"Eloise," Benedict began, his tone a mixture of exasperation and amusement, "please tell me you're not going to make this any worse."

Eloise chuckled, stepping forward to block your path into the house. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. But I am guessing that the reason the both are you are so flushed is not because the two of you went running."

Your cheeks flushed pink, and you shot Benedict a playful glare. "Anthony told you?"

Eloise nodded, her grin widening. "No, but I am guessing what he witnessed is not much different from what I had a couple of weeks ago. Do tell dear brother and sister, do you both have a knack for getting caught in compromising positions?"

Benedict rolled his eyes good-naturedly, though a hint of embarrassment lingered in his expression. "Could we perhaps continue this conversation inside or never?"

"Of course," Eloise replied, stepping aside to let you both pass. As you entered the house, she fell into step beside you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You know, you're lucky it was Anthony who found you and not one of us younger ones. Gregory would have never let you live it down and Hyacinth would just keep asking questions."

You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of camaraderie despite the teasing. "I can only imagine."

Benedict shot his sister a pointed look as you reached the drawing-room door. "Eloise, I hope this doesn't become a family story."

She raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, but Benedict, stories like this are what make family gatherings so entertaining."

You exchanged a knowing glance with Benedict, silently acknowledging the truth in Eloise's words. Despite the embarrassment of being caught, there was a certain charm in the way the Bridgeton's teased and supported each other, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and laughter.

[serafilms]

OH, WE MUST STOP MEETING LIKE THIS

patrick zweig x reader

summary: in which patrick zweig is the bolter (the bolter by taylor swift). wc: 3k

kind of an alternate timeline spinoff of the golden quartet

(rather than an au, it's more like an alternate patrick x reader centric timeline, and an exploration of their dynamic and how it intertwines with the bolter, because i listened to it again after watching challengers, and thought to myself, "wow, this song is so patrick coded.”)

You like Patrick Zweig because he makes you feel like he’s yours.

The sudden hand that claps onto your shoulder almost sends your soul into orbit as you jump in your seat, fork dropping to your tray. It is very soon forgotten.

“Patrick, oh my god!” Your arms are thrown around him, chair pushed to the side, and Patrick stumbles a little on the impact.

When you part, he’s grinning at you and you turn your head back to the table, where Art is munching on an apple with the corners of his mouth twitching up.

“Did you know he was here?” You ask him.

Art gives a shrug as he swallows. “He said he wanted to surprise you.”

You tug at Patrick’s arm to sit as you settle back into your chair.

He gives you an exaggeratedly sloppy kiss on your cheek and you cringe in disgust, butterflies in your stomach all the while. “Had to surprise my favourite girl.”

“Thought Art was your favourite girl,” you quip. The blond kicks your shoe in retaliation.

“You can both be,” Patrick announces as he grabs Art’s apple and takes a bite. “So,” he says through a mouthful, “It’s Friday. What are we doing tonight?”

“Well,” you say, “I have an essay due Sunday, so I’ll be doing that.”

Patrick gives you a look. “Boo, you whore.”

“Alright, pack it up, Regina George.” The words are accompanied by an affectionate roll of your eyes.

“A guy in my calculus class is throwing a party,” Art speaks up. He snatches his apple back out of Patrick’s hands.

You let out a humming noise. “You guys can come hang afterwards. I’ll probably still be awake by then.”

Patrick studies you for a moment, contemplatively, as if you are somehow a factor in making his decision. You wonder if perhaps he wanted you to ask him to stay with you instead. But he turns back to Art and nods his agreement as an easy smirk falls onto his face.

“Sounds like a plan.”

There’s a little more idle chitchat and three-way bickering while Patrick swipes half your meal from under your nose and indulges in it as though he was the one who paid for it. You let him, partially because you’re not hungry anymore and partially because you’re not sure what he’s been eating when he’s on tour, so any nutrients you can get inside his stomach is a win.

Art lists off some of the people going to the party, and you chime in with unsolicited opinions, pieces of gossip, etc., on each of them, until eventually, your tray is empty and it’s time for you to go to class.

“I’ll catch you guys later. Don’t get too shitfaced tonight.” You try to ignore the way Patrick grazes his hand on your hip as you stand.

“No promises,” he snickers. He and Art share a look over the table.

It’s three in the morning when Patrick knocks on your door. He is decidedly shitfaced, but still not as bashed up as you thought he’d be. His hair is only slightly tousled, he doesn’t look like he’s about to fall over, and his clothes don’t even look like they’ve been haphazardly taken off and thrown back on.

Still, you gently tug him inside, hands reaching up to brush down his curls neatly.

“Come here,” you murmur. You don’t question why he came to your room instead of going back to Art’s. Nor do you question why he seems to have gone mute.

You begin helping him take his jacket off, then as he sits on your bed, his shoes. Despite being fully capable of doing so himself, he lets you take care of him. He doesn’t even stop to smirk or make a comment about the compromising position of you kneeling in front of him. Instead, he stares. Or it looks like staring. In Patrick terms, you decide that the more accurate verb is ‘gazes.’

After you’ve forced a glass of water down his throat and put his things in a pile to the side, Patrick has half tucked himself under your covers and is gazing at you – expectant, pensive.

The bed dips as you lay beside him, turning onto your side to face him. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Patrick’s hand darts out to cup your face. His eyes are half lidded, looking straight into yours. It’s a serious expression, one you so rarely see on his features. He almost looks like a different person.

His fingertips brush the side of your neck making their way down to your shoulder, your bicep then your ribcage, right near the curve of your waist. You hear his breathing deepen as your own does the same.

“I really like you, you know.”

Your breath hitches. You feel as though your lungs, heart and diaphragm have all be frozen in time.

The words shouldn’t warrant such a reaction. They shouldn’t have such a palpable effect on you, but they do. You know Patrick likes you a lot. It’s a given with the way he acts around you, seeks you out and calls you so frequently. But it’s precisely because you know that and because you know him, that you know what he really means in this moment.

Your voice comes out in a hoarse kind of whisper. “I really like you too.”

A hint of his usual smirk crosses his face, and then the next thing you know, you’re thrown in a void, and the only things you’re aware of are the warmth of his hand on your side and the press of his lips on your own.

You love Patrick Zweig because he will always come back to you.

“Hey.” There’s a smirk on Patrick’s face as you step out of the bathroom. His eyes dart up and down your figure, from the shirt you clearly stole out of his bag while he was training with Art and Tashi to the exposed skin of your legs.

“Hey,” you reply, smiling as you move to situate yourself between his legs. His arms wrap around you as you settle into him. Chest to chest, heart to heart. You can feel the steady thump in his chest through your shirt. You take the time to drink in the sight of him. Every visit feels shorter than the last, and you sometimes worry his face will fade from your memory like a thawing lake in spring. “How was practice?”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Tashi keeps riding my ass about my focus during matches.”

“Come on, she just wants to help you.”

Patrick’s eyebrows raise as he gives you a squeeze. “I didn’t come visit so I could be coached.”

You smile at that. “Oh yeah? What’d you come back for then?”

A grin stretches over his face as he flips you both over, and you squeak a little on impact. “Why don’t I show you?”

Warmth blossoms in your chest as he starts kissing up your neck. “We watch your matches sometimes, you know. When I miss you. Art always sighs when you do your weird little serve. Tashi commentates most of it, though.”

You feel the stretch of his lips as he smiles slightly into your collarbone.

“She has some good points,” you say, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he bites down on your skin. “Maybe you should listen to her.”

He sighs, mumbling, “I don’t want to talk about tennis right now.”

“I know. I’m just saying – raw talent won’t always be enough.”

“I’ll deal with that when I start actually losing,” he replies in between kisses. He’s at your jaw now, lips still pressed to your skin with every word.

You hum at the vibrations on your skin, but a frown pulls at your lips. You aren’t Tashi or Art. It isn’t like you care all that much about tennis anymore, but the fact that Patrick seems to care even less worries you. His future is hanging by a thread, and it worries you most of all because you’re not even really sure if you fit in his future. You’re not sure if you’ll be there to sew it back up or standing in the distance watching it fray.

“You always do that,” you blurt.

He pulls away, looking at your eyes with a brow furrowed. “Do what?”

“Run away from your problems.”

“I don’t run away from my problems,” he says, pulling back slightly. You both know he’s lying.

“I’m sorry, I’m just worried.” You bite your lip. “You haven’t had a decent conversation with your parents in two years, and I feel like you’re not thinking about your future.”

Patrick shifts away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you instead. His jaw has set as he looks at you. There’s a cold expression on his face and you want nothing more than to rewind the last 30 seconds and go back to how it was before. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek nervously.

“I don’t need you to worry about my future,” he says, voice low and steady.

Your own voice has a subtle shake in it, one that’s filled with regret. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Patrick looks at you for a moment longer, then swings his feet off the bed and heads straight for his things.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving,” he says quietly. He shoves his hoodie into the bag and zips it up.

Your heart clenches. “Wait, Patrick, please. I don’t want us to leave it like this.”

“I have to go. I’ll miss the last bus if I don’t.”

“You can catch it tomorrow! Your competition isn’t for another two days!” The desperation in your voice is audible. “Please. Please don’t leave.”

Patrick’s figure is still, like a photograph frozen in time. His bag rests on his shoulder. He’s two steps away from the door.

“Please stay.”

When he turns and looks at you, you can see the way his expression crumbles.

“Okay,” he mumbles.

You manage a few steps towards him, slow and hesitant. The bag slides off of his shoulder and he engulfs you into his arms. There’s a kiss pressed to your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into him.

His hair brushes against your cheek as he shakes his head. “No. No, I’m sorry.”

He holds you tight in his arms as you fall asleep. The next morning, you awake to an empty bed, and a sticky note on your desk that you won’t notice for another few days.

I’m sorry.

You don’t like Patrick Zweig because he makes you cave every time.

A year fresh out of college, and your career as a journalist is flourishing. Your boss flounces up to you at your desk.

“You used to play a bit of tennis, right?”

You blink. “Uh, yeah.” You were ranked, like, 7th in the world for junior tennis before your injury, but sure, that about sums it up too.

“I need you to write a piece on the competition happening soon. It won’t be too spotlighted, since we’re not really known for our sports new, but you’ll have full control over it, since you’re the only one who knows anything about tennis.”

“Okay, no problem.”

“Great! Here’s a list of the players.”

Your eyes skim over the list half-heartedly. There were occasionally names you recognised, including – ah, there was Art. You flipped through until the end, and your gaze locked in on the last name on the page. Your heart crept into your throat.

Patrick Zweig.

“Did you know he was here too?” You struggle your way up your stairs to the apartment, grocery bags in each hand and your phone balanced between your ear and shoulder.

Art’s voice sounds muffled from the other line, probably because your ear is more on the screen than the speaker, but even so, the awkward lilt in his voice is clear as day. “Yeah, uh, he texted me.”

You sigh. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re not still friends with him for my sake.”

He’s quiet for a moment. "I know. I just didn’t know how you’d feel about him being back in town."

“That’s what Tashi said too.”

“So how are you feeling about it?”

"Well," you huff as you reach near top of the stairs, "it’s not like I didn’t know he’d be at the tournament." Your eyes close for a moment, and the image of his name in font size 11 Arial appears in your mind’s eye. "I just didn’t want to think about it. I mean, it’s been ages since I’ve even spoken to him. It’s—"

"Complicated," Art finishes for you.

"Yeah." You fumble for your keys in your pocket, trying to manoeuvre the bags without dropping anything. "I’ll be fine, though. "

Art hums. You get the sense he’s thinking about something. Finally, he says, "For what it’s worth, he never wanted to hurt you, you know.”

You manage a small smile, even though he can’t see it. "I know. I’ll call you later, okay? I gotta put these groceries away."

"Sure. Take care, alright?"

"Yeah, you too." It’s a big struggle trying to get the keys out of your pocket. You barely manage to grab your phone in your other hand.

"Need some help with those?"

The sound of Patrick’s voice startles you, and you nearly drop the bags. He’s leaning against the wall next to your door with a smirk playing on his lips. Your first instinct is to hug him, then something switches and you want to punch him. With the bags in your hands, you can do neither, so you opt for staring at him as though you’ve just seen a ghost.

He still looks the same as you last saw him (not that you think about him often enough to picture that image, of course), except with an extra hint of adult despair. But still, the curls are the same, he’s still wearing shorts, he’s still clean-shaven, and his smirk is still stupid as ever. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a figure of your imagination.

You gape at him for a moment before finding your voice. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

He straightens up, taking a few steps toward you. "Thought I’d surprise you."

"Well, mission accomplished," you mutter, pushing your key in the door and twisting it. Patrick follows you in, reaching to grasp at the bags in your hands. You don’t say anything as he carries them over to your counter, his eyes darting around to take in the sight of your apartment.

“Nice place. I like what you’ve done with the bookshelf,” he muses as he lifts the groceries onto the tabletop, then leans against it.

The way he moves is so familiar that it sends a jolt of déjà-vu through your stomach. A battle rages on in your mind as you struggle to figure out how to feel. On paper, you’re not necessarily on bad terms. It isn’t like you could say you had a bad breakup, since you aren’t even really sure you were dating in the first place, so you never really had any nights of crying over him, eating ice cream, and asking your friends to stop you from texting him. The two of you just stopped talking.

“Patrick. Why are you here?” Your voice cuts like a knife through the air. This is starting to feel like some sick joke from the universe. You wonder if Art knew Patrick was going to ambush you. Maybe he gave him your address.

He looks at you, his easy smile dropping for a moment. “I wanted to see you.”

You stay quiet. His expression is uncomfortably serious, and you can see him waiting for a response. But the truth is you don’t know what to say. You opt instead for moving towards the groceries beside him and putting them away. Patrick just watches you.

"So," he says, breaking the silence, "how’ve you been?"

"Busy," you reply, picking up a carton of milk to put in the refrigerator. "Work’s been hectic."

You see him nod from the corner of your eye. "I’ve heard. Your articles are really good."

You glance at him, surprised. "You read them?"

"Of course." His expression softens. "I always keep up with what you’re doing."

A lump forms in your throat, and you focus on moving around the jars in your fridge door aimlessly to avoid looking at him. "Thanks."

It’s silent once more as you finish putting everything away, though you can feel Patrick’s eyes in the back of your head the whole time.

His eyes meet yours when you finally turn back to face him, and for a moment, he looks vulnerable. He steps closer, reaching out to take your hand. "I missed you."

Your heart clenches. It becomes easier to decide then. You don’t like Patrick Zweig. Can’t stand him, really. You hate him. You hate that just his hand in yours and three little words can make your resolve crumble like a statue smashed to rubble.

Against the better judgement of every cell in your brain, you say, “I missed you too.”

It’s nothing to do with you. You know that. As he kisses you, as he slips his hands under your shirt, as he lies in bed with you, traces patterns on your skin and clings to you like a lifeline, you know. Patrick is yours, and you are his. But he’s always making promises he can’t keep, starting things he cannot finish, running away from everything to no end.

Perhaps one day, things will be different. But for now, you stare at the empty space in your bed, the only trace of his presence being the lingering scent of his cologne. You sigh, draw open the curtains and allow the morning sun to seep into your room.

You hate Patrick Zweig because he will never stay.

[readychilledwine]

A Debt Paid in Full

Summary - Your father shouldn't have sent his prettiest daughter after refusing to pay his Tithe

Warnings - this is unhinged and kind of dark, virgin reader, younger female/older male, manipulation, smut, beron is... surprisingly giving and slightly charming but arrogant. Oral, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding Kink, beron

A/N - You all asked for it. Please don't ask for more. I feel dirty 🤣

The Whore Home Masterlist

“Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?” Being circled by the High Lord of Autumn had to have been the scariest thing you had ever experienced. “Is that why Daddy sent you? Does he think a nice pair of tits will buy him time to pay his tithe?”

“No, my lord,” yes, you thought instantly. “He is just busy over looking the land and farms. He apologizes for sending a female in his place, but you know how we are when it comes to business.”

Beron seemed to smile as he studied you again. “I imagine you already know you are only useful for certain,” he paused, looking over your frame again, a true smile forming at what he saw, “activities.”

“My father taught me my place, yes.”

“How old are you?”

“302, my lord.”

“And unmarried?” He tisked slightly. “And unpresented to the court as an available female?” He circled you again, a new dangerous light gleaming in those eyes. “Why?”

You took a deep breath. “My mother needed me home to help with my younger siblings, and now that they no longer require me, I am a spinster per our standards, my lord. I am not a viable option for marriage.”

“But you are for fucking. Or for a second wife. A pretty little toy to keep around when someone's lady refused to come warm their bed.”

“Ah, a second choice. How very desirable. I will stay unwed. Be the village witch.” The statement was out before you could stop it. Beron paused midwalk, looking at you with those dark eyes and his brows raised. “I apologize.”

“You are lucky you are very, very beautiful.” A hand went to your light red hair. “Your spring court mother did you quite the favor. Her fair blonde hair mixed with red. You are a unique treasure.”

An odd feeling set into your stomach at his constant compliments, at his hand twirling your hair, his body so close to yours you could feel the fire that ran within him.

The Autumn Lord was by no means an ugly male. He had produced 7 beautiful sons, each one resembling him but with their mother's eyes and hair. He was fit, body lined and cut with muscle you could make out under his fine tailored clothing. 

“I believe you and I could reach a compromise, y/n. Regarding your father's discretion.” The sinking feeling of what he meant hit you as a hand trailed your lower back. “Your father knows I collect beautiful things, and you, little fox, are a beautiful thing.”

“Are you attempting to seduce me, my lord?”

“Is it an attempt when I can smell it clearly is working?” Beron walked you back to the wall, a hand resting on your hip and the other going behind your head to protect you from impact. “Is this what females dream of? A fae lord to whisk them away from their troubles, shower them in luxurious gifts and clothing?”

“I just dreamed of being taken away. The rest did not matter.” Beron smirked at the words, something that should have made your skin recoil but instead caused heat to settle between your legs. 

“Let's make a bargain, little fox. You stay with me, be my little second wife, and your family never pays a tithe again.”

Your eyes widened at the offer. It was a sacrifice you could make. What was your life in exchange for the safety of your family with your father's choice to ignore the tithe collection. Beron was handsome, the Forest House was beautiful, but he was cruel. “I want to be treated well.”

Beron hummed. “You will be, if you stay in line. Keep that pretty mouth in check. I was kind today. I will not always tolerate your attitude, though.”

The hand resting on your hip began to trail to the curve of your ass, the hand previously resting behind your head now, allowing him to lean into you and cage you into his body and the wall. “How soon?”

“Tonight. I have never been known to be a male with patience when I want something.”

“Why marriage? Why not just my maidenhood?” The question seemed to spark something in him, eyes growing darker and the scent of arousal being to consume every breath. 

“Why would I allow something so pretty to slip between my fingers? Especially when I didn't know I would be the one to ruin her? Yes or no. My tolerance for your questions is wearing thin and I can easily just drop you off as I have my eldest arrest your father.” 

What was your life, in exchange for the safety of theirs? “Yes.” 

That one word was all it took for him to pounce. Lips finding yours and dominating a heated kiss. He winnowed you from the room, taking you to what must have been his personal suite and walked you back to the bed. His hands roamed everywhere before picking you up and placing you on the softest bed you had ever dreamed of. “How attached to your dress are you?” The kisses moved to your jawline as he awaited his answer. 

“I'm not.”

“Good. I will give you a thousand more.”He burned every thread from your body, groaning at the newly exposed skin, so soft and untouched. Untested and unexplored. “I think your father knew I'd be weak for you. Your younger sisters had been presented to my court and married off, yet here you are. Hidden away because you were his most precious gem.” 

All you could do was whimper as soft thumbs ran over your nipples. Pinching them lightly. His lips ran to your neck, feeling like a trail of fire as they did. Every inch of you became so sensitive that you broke out in goosebumps. He stopped at a spot that made your back arch, sucking the skin there until you were sure you would bruise before continuing his path down. 

When he finally reached your breasts, he stopped temporarily, scooting you up the pillows a bit more before removing his crown and placing it on head. “Be a good pet and hold this for me.” You couldn't help but to laugh, but that quickly turned into another moan. “So responsive.” The praise quickly shot to your core just as a hand did, running along your soaked folds with an arrogant laugh. 

Every kiss, every lick, every gentle touch on your core had you mewling for him, back arching as you whined. When one finger pushed in and curled up, hitting a spot in you that you would have never found before immediately pulling it back out . “And such pretty noises.” You couldn't help but grip the sheets, praying to any God who would listen as his kisses continued lower until he settled between your legs. 

“Perfect. Just absolutely perfect.” Beron was oddly gentle, kissing your thigh. You could have died when he first licked at your core, growling as he did and nudging that precious bundle of nerves. 

“Beron,” you whispered almost in warning, fingers gripping the sheets tighter. 

“Ssh, relax.” He continued to motion again, setting your nerves a light and making you cry out at the foreign feeling. He continues then, slow methodical licks. Watching from lust filled hooded eyes as your back arched, as your mouth fell open, as your nails dug so deeply into his mattress your knuckles turned white. 

When his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking light as his tongue pressed into it, you saw stars. Then his fingers, his damned fingers pushed back inside of you, stretching you out and preparing you for him. It was all too much, yet not enough. He used his free hand to pin your hips down, leaving you with no escape from his mouth. 

Your stomach started to feel tight, and your mind became hazy, core clenching at the now two fingers pushing in and out, scissoring and dancing on the sensitive spot you have only read about in novels. You went barreling over the edge quickly, feeling him smirk on your core as you screamed for him. He pulled his mouth away, keeping his fingers deep inside of you, working you open for him. 

You had not even noticed him remove his clothing using magic, but he was bare before you. Scars littered his muscled chest and shoulders. They danced along his back and ribs. They were a reminder of his cruelty born in a place of hatred for his own father, his own upbringing. But for some reason, now of that matter, as he kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “Give me one more, y/n. Cum on my fingers before you get my cock.” 

He increased his rhythm, holding your head up to keep that golden crown resting on your head. His experience was quick to bring you over the edge again, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he did. 

He also kept your eyes on him as he used your slick to lubricate his cock, kept your eyes on him as he centered himself. And he kept your eyes on him as he pushed in, watching your mouth fall open again as the burn from being so full took over. Watching in sadistic glee as you whined and moaned. He barely gave you time to adjust, letting go of the back of your head in favor of pounding into you over and over. 

Now you truly could have died. You could have died with a smile growing on your face as he pulled out before forcing you to take all of him back in, making the pain quickly turn into a burning need as the scent of sex and sweat filled the air. He moved your legs, placing one over each shoulder and fucking so deep into you that you couldn't tell where you ended and he began. “So tight, pet.” His voice was breathy as his head fell back in pleasure. “Such a perfect cunt.” 

His thrusts became harder as he watched your face, trying to figure out what you liked. And a sudden gasp shifting to a wail of pleasure told him exactly what it was. Over and over, he hit that spot inside of you, the one he had found earlier with his fingers. His eyes almost seemed to roll as you grew tighter, clenching and twitching around him, swallowing him whole.

“Perhaps I should breed you as well. Make sure this pretty pussy stays mine.” Your body responded before you verbally could, gripping him higher and thighs beginning to shake. “You like that, don't you? Like the idea of being used, being bred. Fuck you're perfect. So fucking perfect.” His fingers found your clit again, massaging the swollen bundle of nerves as he buried himself into you. 

Completion found you again, ripping you so deep into pleasure as you milked his cock that you couldn't help but to fall into a silent scream. Beron fell over after you, heat passing through the room as he did and intensifying everything. He allowed your legs to fall from his shoulders. Catching himself on his forearms above you, he sat and watched as you came down from the high. He studied you like a new toy, plotting and planning what he would do to you. “Yes,” he spoke more to himself than you. “You will be quite fun to keep.”

Beron Smut Taglist:

@secret-third-thing

[taey0ngsvape]

txt - saying goodbye before they go on tour

yes, i know tour is basically over but i got this idea and i HAD to write it for txt. it's 3.1k words for all five members (i got carried away). pls enjoy :)

yeonjun:

Your phone ringing is what wakes you up and you squint at the screen in front of you noticing it’s nearly four in the morning, but the contact name reads junnie so you pick up immediately.

“Jun?” you ask groggily. He was supposed to be leaving for the airport soon for his flight to America as part of their world tour. You had said goodbye to him last night over dinner so his call is unexpected.

“I’m outside,” he says. “It’s kinda cold, can you come let me in?”

“What?” you ask, shivering as you climb out of bed. “Why are you here? Don’t you have to be at the airport soon?”

“I wanted to see you,” Yeonjun answers. “And it’s really fucking cold can you please hurry up.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe I should go back to bed.”

“No baby please!”

You laugh. “I’ll be right there, okay? Be patient.”

“Patient? I’m about to freeze to—” his voice cuts off as you hang up the call and drop your phone on the couch as you pass by, grabbing the blanket draped over the back and wrapping it around yourself before opening the door.

Yeonjun is standing there with his arms crossed and tucked into his sides as he tries to keep himself warm, but the way he shivers shows that he’s been unsuccessful. His eyes light up when he sees you and you can’t help but smile and open the door wider to let him in.

“Come inside baby,” you say, closing the door behind him. “I thought your flight was today?” you ask but instead of responding Yeonjun pulls you into a hug. His embrace is warm and inviting even though he’s been standing in the cold. You can hear his steady heartbeat when you press your ear to his chest. You always listen to his heart every time he hugs you and, like always, he mumbles into your hair, “My heart beats for you.”

His hands move to your back and slip under your shirt, his fingers ice cold and startling enough the you push him away from you.

“Choi Yeonjun!” you scold, a shiver running down your spine after the chill of his fingertips.

“You’re warm!” he defends and you just sigh.

“I am not your personal heater,” you deadpan.

“Please?” he asks, pouting in a way he knows you can never resist. 

“I’ll hold your hands for now, okay?” you compromise and that seems to please him.

You wrap your hands around his, taking one hand at a time in between your two slightly warmer ones.

“I can’t stay long,” Yeonjun says quietly. “We have to get to the airport, but I just wanted to see you. I had to see you.”

You look up at him and squeeze his hand. “I love you, you know that?” you ask. Yeonjun smiles.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

soobin:

It was two in the morning, but you were busy making waffles for you and your boyfriend. He had to leave for the airport in an hour before setting off on a six week tour in the US so you wanted to spend the last bit of time until his departure with him.

You take another cooked waffle out of the waffle maker and onto a plate. Soobin takes the responsibility of decorating both of your waffles and on yours he even makes a heart out of whipped cream. You both sit at your kitchen table to eat together. 

“You better have someone on staff livestream the concert for me on my birthday. I want to be able to see you, even if it’s just through a screen.”

Soobin reaches across the table to take your hand. “I will. And I’m sorry I can’t be here to celebrate your birthday with you.”

“We can always celebrate it another time. Besides, you’ll be back in time for our anniversary and that’s what I really care about.”

Soobin smiles. “I already have ideas.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” you tease and Soobin pouts, letting go of your hand and crossing his arms. “I was kidding,” you laugh.

“Well I was going to give you an early birthday gift but now I might just make you wait until after tour—”

You gasp. “No, I'm sorry!” You give him your best puppy dog eyes and he playfully rolls his eyes and grins. 

“Fine,” he says. “Let me go get it.”

He returns with a box and gently slides it across the table. “Happy birthday,” he says and you smile.

Slowly, you lift the lid off the box and reveal two silver charm bracelets. There’s only one charm on each one and the prospect of collecting charms is fun and exciting. You can’t keep the smile off your face.

“One for me and one for you,” Soobin says, moving his chair so he’s sitting next to you. He picks up both bracelets and brings the two charms together. “They connect with a magnet.” The two charms stick together and form a beautiful butterfly. “I didn’t want to get a heart, I thought that might be too cheesy.”

You laugh. “I wouldn’t have minded. But this is perfect. Seriously, thank you.” You lean over and wrap your arms around Soobin’s waist and he instantly pulls you closer.

“I’m really going to miss you,” Soobin admits softly. “But I know we’re always connected.”

“I’ll miss you too. But I’ll be right here when you come back, patiently waiting for those not-at-all-suspicious anniversary celebrations.”

Soobin laughs and you can feel the vibration in his chest. You’re going to miss getting to feel him so close to you, but this is his dream and you love watching him get to perform and live the life he’s worked so hard for. You’ll always be there to support him, whether you’re a thousand miles away or right there in his arms, you’ll always be there. 

“You know I’m your biggest fan, right?” you ask. He smiles at you, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear.

“Of course I do,” he says softly. 

When you kiss him, he holds your face in his hands and keeps you as close to him as possible, knowing he has to give this up for six weeks, but he knows he’ll have a good time on tour and you’ll call him often. And when he comes back, you’ll be waiting.

beomgyu:

“I shall dream of you every night,” Beomgyu says dramatically and you roll your eyes.

“I’m about to kick you out of my house,” you deadpan and he only laughs.

“Let me finish proclaiming my love to you first.”

You sigh. “Fine.”

“I’ll miss your cooking and your cuddles. You’re so warm when you lie on my chest it’s like a heated blanket—”

“Says the human space heater,” you argue.

“You love cuddling me, don’t lie.”

You shrug your shoulders and feign indifference because you know Beomgyu will see right through it. And he does. “I can see the edge of your lip pointing up. You’re trying not to smile.”

You huff in fake annoyance but accept defeat. You love cuddling him. You love being around him, even when he spends most of the time teasing you. You’re really going to miss him.

“I love you,” you say, watching as surprise fills his features. It’s something that the two of you don’t say often. You always show your love for each other in other ways, but those three words were usually reserved for special occasions. Right now was definitely one of those times.

“I love you too,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. You stand like that for a few minutes until the other boys come into the room and start gathering all their belongings, passing suitcases off to staff members. You follow Beomgyu to his room and help him carry his backpack while he wheels his suitcase to the door.

After a staff member takes his suitcase, you hand him his backpack and once he’s gotten the straps on, he’s pulling you into another hug. “I’ll see you soon okay?” he says. “I know six weeks is a long time to be without me,” he jokes.

“Oh no,” you say sarcastically. “What will I do?”

He only laughs and leans down to kiss you. It’s loving and tender but over far too soon. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he says as he follows the rest of the boys out the door.

“No promises,” you say with a grin, blowing him a kiss. He pretends to catch it and stick it into his pocket.

Once the door shuts you head into Beomgyu’s room, now half empty, to grab a sweatshirt before you go. Then you grab your own jacket from the hook next to the front door and pull it on, zipping it up all the way to try and keep out as much of the cold as possible. 

The walk back to your place is a short one, especially since you manage to catch a bus nearby. At your door, you reach into your pocket to pull out your keys and feel a piece of paper inside. You unlock your door and once you’re inside you grab the paper again.

Puzzled, you pull it out of your pocket and realize it’s an envelope and you can see your name on it in handwriting that is undeniably Beomgyu’s. He must’ve stuck it in there when you hung up your jacket by the door. 

You aren’t exactly sure why you’re nervous, but your fingers tremble as you open the letter. It’s just one piece of paper and gently you unfold it.

Sweetheart

Baby

Darling

My Love,

I wanted to say all of this to you, but if I’m being honest, I’ve been trying to tell you about how I feel ever since we started dating and I’ve never managed to do it. I can’t find the words, and if I can then I always end up forgetting them the second I see you. It’s not my fault really, you make it hard to think sometimes. Most of the time. When I’m with you it’s like time stops or something, and for a while it’s just us. I don’t have to be anyone or anything else. I’m just yours.

I’m always yours.

And now that I’m going on tour and I’m going to be away from you for a while I figured now is as good of a time as ever to finally try and say the things I never can when I’m around you. Because when I’m with you I can’t think straight. You fill my mind and I’ll do anything to make you happy. I just want to see you happy, because you make me happy.

You make me so fucking happy. You make me laugh and feel safe and appreciated. You play games with me and put up with all my teasing. You support me always and inspire me every day to do better and to be better. And I always thought soulmate stuff was cheesy, but if you are my soulmate as my soulmate, you are all of the best parts of myself and more. And every day I want to be more like you.

But at the same time you make me feel like I’m worthy of being loved exactly as I am, and that’s more valuable than anything else. It feels like a privilege to be loved by you, and I hope it’s one I can continue to enjoy, because I’m with you for the long run. Six weeks away? It seems like a lot right now, but I want to spend my life by your side, so I know that in the grand scheme of things, six weeks isn’t a big deal at all. And we have all the time in the world to make up for it.

I’m so grateful for you and I hope I can make you feel as loved as I do. You are everything to me and I hope I can continue to make you happy. I’ll give my best on this tour because I know you’ll be watching me, encouraging me, the whole time. And I’m so glad that you chose me.

I love you. So so so much.

Yours (forever and ever)

Gyu

taehyun: 

Since their flight to America was leaving early in the morning, Taehyun decides to take you out for lunch the day before instead of making you wait up for him or wake up at four a.m to say goodbye. 

He insists on paying for everything and tells you to order as much as you want (he ends up eating some of your food though). 

“Let’s go back to the dorms after this,” he suggests. “I still need to pack a few things, plus, I have a surprise.”

Your eyes widen. “You don’t have to get me anything. You know I’ll survive while you’re away.”

Taehyun smiles. “I know, but I wanted to get you something anyway.”

You take his hand from across the table and give it a squeeze. “Thank you.”

Once the two of you have finished eating, Taehyun takes your hand and leads you out of the cafe to the car waiting outside. You both settle into the back seat and the car sets off in the direction of the dorms.

“What stop are you most excited for?” you ask. It’s been forever since you’ve been in America and there are still so many places you want to visit.

“Probably the Newark show,” he says. “I really love New York City.”

You sigh dreamily at the thought of NYC. You’ve always wanted to go, even if the city isn’t actually as magical as it seems in movies. “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time. Make sure you take plenty of pictures,” you tell him.

“I will, don’t you worry.”

When you two make it back to the dorms you follow Taehyun to his room where his suitcase is still open on his bed. He pats the empty space at the end. “Sit,” he says, “I’ll be right back.”

You sit down and wait for Taehyun to return. He only takes a minute and he comes back with an envelope, handing it to you.

“If you wrote me a love letter I will cry and you will be responsible,” you warn. He laughs.

“Open it.”

Gently you lift the flap of the envelope and pull out a folded piece of paper. As you unfold it you find that the paper is blank, but in the middle is a ticket, a plane ticket from Seoul to Seattle and then another from Seattle to… New York.

“You didn’t…” you say, blinking back tears.

“You said you wanted to go to one of our shows. And you’re always talking about going to New York, so I just thought it would be nice.”

“It’s fantastic,” you say, teary eyed. Setting the papers down on the bed, you get up and hug Taehyun, who immediately pulls you closer to him. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” he says. “This means I get to see you sooner.”

You smile despite the tears rolling down your cheeks. Taehyun has always been so attentive and kind and you couldn’t be more grateful to have him as a part of your life.

huening kai:

You’re lying in Kai’s bed, your head resting just below the crook of his neck. He’s playing with your hair gently and you almost feel like you could fall asleep, but your stomach is weighed down by a sense of dread because in two hours Kai will be leaving and this trip will be the longest the two of you have ever gone without seeing each other.

You hadn’t said anything about it to him, not when he was so excited to be going on tour, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Kai?” you say softly. He hums in response and you can feel the sound in his chest where your cheek is lying. “Are you afraid?”

“Of what?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

“Us. Our future.” You sigh. “We’ve never been apart for this long before, not even when we were friends.”

That friendship had lasted a while before he’d finally had the courage to say something, and even then, you were the one who confessed your feelings first. But that had only been three months ago. Your relationship was still relatively new and that meant it was fragile. You weren’t sure how the separation ws going to affect it.

“Are you… have you been having doubts about us?” Kai asks gently, still stroking your hair, an action that brings comfort and calm to a nerve wracking conversation.

“I’m just worried. Our whole friendship started because we were seeing each other so often and now we’re together nearly every day. What’s going to happen when we don’t have that anymore?”

“We can still call. I know it's not the same, but it’s something. And this isn’t going to last forever. I’ll be back before you know it,” he says and you can hear his smile. He sounds completely confident and it’s soothing your worries. If he believes in you, then you believe in him and your relationship. 

“Until then, I guess you’ll have to survive without me,” you tease and Kai laughs breathily.

“How will I ever manage?”

You smile and settle back into his side, his body warm and his presence inviting. For a few minutes, you just draw shapes on his chest and enjoy this moment, trying to make it last as long as possible. Kai is the one who breaks the silence.

“You know, if it ever gets too much I can always fly you out to see me.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to do that bubs,” you say with a soft smile.

“I’m the maknae, I get special privileges,” he says and you laugh.

“Whatever you say love.”

Two hours later, you’re standing with Kai by the door. His suitcase has already been wheeled off by a staff member and Taehyun took his backpack. He’s the last one left in the dorm, but he can’t seem to let you go. 

“Kai,” you say, your arms around his waist as he holds you close to his chest. “Everyone’s waiting.”

“They can wait a little longer,” he says, kissing the top of your head. So the two of you stand together, holding each other and even after Kai finally steps away, you feel content. You know he’s yours, the same way you’re his. Time and distance can’t change that. You’ll always find your way home to each other.

[togrowoldinv]

A True Love’s Kiss

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha gets brainwashed, it’s up to you to bring her back to her formal self. It’s not an easy task, but maybe your love for her is the key to unlocking her memories

Note: Woohoo Natasha. Just a fun (kinda angsty) little idea I came up with today. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

It’s a quiet morning as you run through the park. Memories of the last few years flash through your head, but you shake them away.

It’s been six months since you’ve heard from any of the Avengers. The so called ‘family’ left you out to dry the moment that things ended with you and Natasha.

In hindsight, it was a terrible idea to date the woman you worked with. But you knew you were in love with her and life felt too short to deny that.

You’re on the way back to your car when you sense it. A few moments later, two of your ‘old friends’ walk into your view.

“Y/n,” Steve begins. You don’t look at him.

“Come on, y/n. Look at us,” Clint adds.

“Why should I? I haven’t heard from any of you in months. All you did was side with Natasha,” you say bitterly.

“We’re sorry,” Steve says. You hate that it really seems like he means it. “Things got messy and we weren’t there for you.”

“Understatement of the century,” you remark.

You decide you’ve had enough of this. You move to open the car door but are stopped short by Clint’s next words.

“It’s Natasha,” Clint says. “She’s been compromised and we think the only person she’ll talk to is you.”

You sigh.

“And why do you think that?” You ask.

“We’ve tried everything. It’s our last idea,” Steve says. His tone has a sadness to it. “Will you come with us? Please. For Nat?”

You don’t reply, but you simply grab a bag of clothes from your car and walk closer to Steve and Clint. They’ll take that as a yes.

After walking to the quinjet, Clint takes the reins while Steve explains to you what happened to Natasha.

“She’s not herself. None of us have been able to stop her from these missions she’s been on,” he explains. “It seems like it could be the red room again. Like they’ve brainwashed her.”

“How did this even happen? How did she get that far out of reach in the first place?” You ask.

Steve hesitates to answer.

“Tell her,” Clint says.

“Tell me what?”

“Y/n, when you and Natasha broke up she went into hiding,” Steve says. “You never heard from us because we’ve been busy trying to find her. Now that we have, we have to figure out how to bring her in.”

“We found her in Russia,” Steve continues. “She’s good at what she does, you know that. But her heartbreak made her incredibly vulnerable. Even before she left the Avengers, her focus was somewhere else. Probably on how she broke your heart.”

“So this is my fault?” You wonder aloud. You don’t know if that makes you angry or sad. Maybe both.

“No,” Steve says. “It’s no one’s fault. Nat chose to leave.”

“But she’s not choosing to act like this,” Clint says. “I can tell. I can almost bring her out of it when I mention my family. And since she’s in love with you-“

“Was,” you correct him. “She was. Not anymore.”

“Right,” Clint says noncommittally. “We hope once she sees you, she’ll snap out of it.”

“So all of this is based on a hope?” You ask.

“Well, yeah,” Steve says.

“Great,” you say sarcastically. You stand up and push your way to the back of the jet to sit alone.

Truthfully, you’ve imagined reuniting with Natasha a million times. In your fantasy, she would show up at your door in the pouring rain with flowers and a romcom style apology for how she hurt you.

But this reuniting will be no romcom. You can tell from the way Steve can’t really meet your eyes that it’s bad. He cares for Natasha as deeply as you and Clint do. You can sense his fear. And Clint’s.

“We’re here,” Clint announces, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Where’s here?” You ask. You look out the front and notice the landscape is not the Avengers compound where you thought you were heading.

“There’s no time to prepare,” Steve says. “You can do this, y/n. Approach the house carefully and expect resistance. We’ll back you up but if Nat sees us we’re sure she’ll be quicker to turn against you.”

“Here’s coms,” Clint says, handing you a piece for your ear.

“Okay. Here goes nothing,” you say, taking a deep breath.

You step out of the quinjet and walk over one hundred paces to where Natasha is supposedly staying. As you expected, she doesn’t answer the front door when you knock.

Instead, you’re struck in the back of the knee. She effectively brings you down to the ground. Her legs straddle your waist. Your breath is taken away in more ways than one.

She looks beautiful yet sad. You try to shake off the fact that you’re seeing her for the first time in so long and focus on the way she’s crushing your ribs.

“Natasha,” you say.

“You don’t know me,” Nat says.

“I used to,” you answer. That throws her off briefly and you manage to squirm free. Natasha catches up fast and pins you against the door this time.

“What do you want?” Natasha asks. She feels an odd attraction to you. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to help you,” you say.

Natasha punches the wall behind you and wraps her hand around your neck.

“Okay, you don’t like that answer,” you whimper out.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” Natasha commands.

You bring your arm up to pull hers away from your throat but she doesn’t stop. You plead with her with your eyes and once again she hesitates long enough for you to slip away.

She pulls her gun on you, but waits to shoot. You hold your hands up in surrender. You try again to make her remember you.

“Natasha, please,” you beg for her to relent. “You know me and I know you. It’s me, y/n.”

She doesn’t appear to have any recollection, so you go deeper.

“You love peanut butter sandwiches,” you say. “And you secretly love M&Ms but only the red ones even though they all taste the same.”

“I-“

“And you get up every morning and go for a run not because you love running but because you like to see the world before it becomes too loud and unsteady,” you continue. “And you love me. Or at least, you used to.”

“I don’t- I’m not who you think I am,” Natasha says.

“Yes you are,” you argue back.

“I’m not,” she says. Her voice breaks. You feel like you’re making progress.

“Natasha, baby, please,” you say.

She’s fighting her internal turmoil. Her objective is to take down anyone in her way.

“Y/n, get out of there,” you hear Steve in your ear.

You don’t dare reply. She’ll shoot if she thinks she’s surrounded.

“You’re an Avenger,” you say. “You’re a friend. You’re a sister. You are an aunt to Clint’s kids. You’re the love of my life.”

Natasha’s hand shakes. She thinks she knows you, but she has a mission.

You look into her eyes as she aims at your chest. Steve and Clint run towards you knowing what’s about to happen but it’s too late.

Natasha fires the weapon and you feel a lot of pain before you feel absolutely nothing. Steve hits Nat with a tranquilizer before she can shoot him and Clint as well.

The next thing you remember is waking up in the medbay at the compound.

“Hey,” Steve greets you. “You’re okay.”

“Where’s Nat?” You ask, sitting up.

“She’s detained,” he says. “And asking for you.”

“What?”

“Welcome to the world again,” Tony interrupts as he enters the room. “Dr. Cho fixed your wound up perfectly as always.”

“Oh,” you say, remembering why you’re here. The ache in your shoulder becomes more noticeable when you try to move it. “I need to see her.”

“No can do, buckaroo,” Tony says. “We’ve got Hill in there talking to her.”

“You mean interrogating her,” you correct him.

“Maybe,” Tony replies. “But we need to know whose side she’s on now.”

“Steve, please you have to let me see her,” you say. “She recognized me. She just- she needed to continue her mission.”

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “It’s too dangerous.”

“She already shot me,” you say dryly. “What else could happen?”

Steve relents. After a couple of hours of resting, you get dressed the best you can, putting your arm in a sling.

You approach the detainment area carefully. Natasha is sitting at a table with her hands cuffed to it when you enter.

“Take those off,” you instruct the guard.

“I’m not supposed-“

“Just do it,” you say.

“Ma’am-“

“Take them off,” Steve says over the intercom.

The guard complies and unlocks the cuffs. You frown at the way they’ve rubbed her wrists raw.

“Hey,” you say to Natasha.

“How’s your shoulder?” She asks.

“Fine. Why didn’t you shoot to kill me? I know you could’ve,” you say.

“So we’re jumping right in,” Nat remarks. “You said you know me and you told me facts that no one knows. I needed to talk to you more. I needed you alive.”

“Do you know me?” You ask.

“I don’t,” she says. You can’t help but frown. “But you do feel vaguely familiar.”

“You’ve had your memories of us taken from you,” you say. “Probably by the Red Room.”

“What did you just say?” Natasha asks. She stands up and pushes you against the wall.

“Nat,” you say. Your shoulder is throbbing.

“We’re coming in to help,” Steve says urgently.

“No wait! I can do this,” you shout. “Natasha please, you wouldn’t hurt me. Not again.”

“Stop acting like you know who I am!” She shouts. “How did you get that name? The Red Room? How did you know?”

“Because Natasha we dated for over a year,” you say. “You told me everything.”

“No,” she says. “I would- I would remember if I had loved you.”

“Natasha, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Stop,” she cries out. “Stop. You don’t- stop it.”

“I do. I love you. Please, I love you. Find yourself in me again, Nat,” you beg her.

Natasha’s eyes fill with tears. It’s beginning to click. You think of the last effort you can make to help her remember it all.

You lean toward her and pull her in for a hug. Your good arm goes around her waist and pulls her in. Natasha doesn’t hug you back but she doesn’t pull away either.

“Please, Natasha. I need you to come back to me,” you whimper into her neck.

It feels so familiar to her. Holding you in her arms as you bury your face into her neck, but she still can’t figure out who you are to her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, pulling away from your embrace. “I just don’t remember you.”

You nod in understanding. She doesn’t know why but she doesn’t flinch when you place your hands on the sides of her face. Her cheeks feel hot under your touch.

“Can I try?” You ask her. She gets what you mean.

“Okay,” she says.

You lean in and kiss her lips softly. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to make Natasha’s heart flutter. And yours too. Under different circumstances, it would be an amazing reunion kiss.

“Y/n?” She asks when you pull away. There’s a light of recognition in her eyes.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Detka,” she begins. You could cry at the pet name. “I don’t- are you okay? Shit, this is my fault.”

She tries to inspect your wound, but you just hug her again.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m so so sorry that I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I did when I broke your heart,” she says regretfully.

“Natasha-“

“Let me just,” she interrupts. “Let me apologize. I’m so sorry, y/n. I love you. I haven’t stopped. It’s just I got so protective of you that I couldn’t let you go on missions. I was holding you back.”

“You weren’t holding me back, Nat. I understand that you’re protective over me, but I can handle myself.”

“I know that,” she says. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Let’s go home, Natasha. We can talk about this over a cup of hot chocolate,” you suggest.

“Yeah. Let’s go home,” Nat says.

You both ignore the other Avenger’s requests that you stay at the compound and they evaluate Nat’s situation and your injury.

The hope of a true love’s kiss curing Natasha seems to be really true. Maybe fairytales are real. Maybe they’re not. But you both love each other and you were always meant to end up together again.

[bosbas]

Chapter 7: something gave you the nerve to touch my hand

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, a small part of the dialogue is in Spanish, idiots in love-ish moments (maybe idiots in non-hate?)

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

June 1, 1816 – A few whispers have been floating around about Lord Arthur Barlow’s whereabouts following his escapade with Miss Barrington at the Bridgerton ball, but this author must sadly say that she has no credible information on the subject. The Duke has likely paid his staff handsomely to avoid any news reaching the curious ears of the ton, much to our disappointment. While propriety suggests that his wedding plans to Miss Barrington should be in full swing, Lord Barlow is not particularly known for his propriety, and therefore we cannot assume anything.

Among other Montclair-related news, two of the Count’s children arrived in London yesterday: Lord Philippe Montclair IV and Lady Isabelle de la Torre, accompanied by their respective spouses and children. Is this unexpected gathering somehow linked to Lady Y/N's recent entanglement in scandal, or is it merely a coincidental family reunion?

You wrung your hands nervously in your carriage bound for Hyde Park, not quite able to sit still. Beside you sat Leonor, Philippe's wife, while your sisters, sitting opposite from you, observed your anxious demeanor with growing impatience. Isabelle, in particular, seemed annoyed by your restless gestures, her irritation palpable in the air.

“Y/N, for heaven's sake, it’s not like you’ve been compromised in any way!” said Isabelle, exasperated. “You’ll find someone else, and the Duke’s betrayal will be but a distant memory.”

It was easy for her to say; after all, her own search for a husband had been nothing short of a fairy tale. Unlike the rest of your siblings, Isabelle had had a love match from the beginning, and it only made it easier that Carlos, her now-husband, had strong ties to the royal family. Though her love story had been one for the ages, the fact that it had happened so easily was making her quite unsympathetic to your loss of a Duke you weren’t even properly interested in. 

“I might as well have been! Lady Whistledown is still mentioning my involvement in the scandal, and your presence isn’t helping.” You thanked the universe that your mother was on another carriage with Louis, Carlos, and Philippe, and hadn’t heard you being rude toward your sister.

"And why should we care about the musings of this Lady Whistledown?" retorted Isabelle with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“These English people treat that gossip column like gospel,” said Charlotte, crinkling her nose in disdain. “Though I dare say, Y/N, your predicament isn't as dire as you're painting it," she added, casting you a knowing glance.

"You two can afford to be cavalier about it, being safely married," you sighed, feeling defeated, and turned your gaze back out the window.

As your carriage rolled into the park, Leonor leaned in, placing her hand over yours. “No te preocupes, cariño,” she whispered reassuringly, so only you could hear (Don’t worry, sweetheart). “En todo caso, te vienes a España con tu hermano y conmigo” (In any case, you can come to Spain with your brother and me).

You smiled at her, resigned, but grateful for her offer. As you surveyed the bustling crowd outside, predominantly comprised of eligible men, the allure of Spain beckoned. It would certainly have better weather than London. And at least there was no Lady Whistledown in Salamanca. Though with the seemingly endless sources the woman had, you wouldn’t doubt her abilities to follow you there, too.

Stepping down from your carriage and walking toward the crowd of people in the park, you made eye contact with one of the gentlemen who had called on you yesterday. Though his poem had nearly put you to sleep, you smiled politely anyway. Perhaps he would be the first to talk to you today and ask for a turn about the park, and you would be able to finally relax in the knowledge that at least one person was still interested in you.

Though you hadn’t seen or heard from Lord Barlow since the Bridgerton ball, he still lingered in your mind. He ended up being just like any other man, you thought, annoyed. You hadn’t necessarily expected him to be the picture of attentiveness and love, especially not when you had only known each other a little over a month, but it was still disappointing to see how it had all turned out. 

"Lady Montclair," a voice interjected, drawing your attention to your right. Startled, you turned to see Colin Bridgerton, sporting an uncharacteristically earnest smile.

“Mr. Bridgerton?” you inquired. 

You had thought your dance two nights prior had been a one-time event, a small courtesy on his part, for Eloise, so you didn’t look a complete fool upon your re-entry to society. So why was he here now? Had he come here to resume tormenting you? You weren’t quite sure you had the energy for that today, already feeling the familiar flutter of nerves as you thought about how many men you would have to impress and the intense scrutiny you would face from the rest of the ton.

“Would you care for a promenade?” his voice, a gentle invitation, broke through your thoughts.

“A prom- What?” you said lowly, careful that no one would hear you. “You already danced with me once, and it was more than enough,” you assured him. 

Colin was fighting an internal battle. He was torn between still being absolutely enchanted by you after one dance, and the larger part of him that was annoyed that you apparently didn’t want to speak with him today. Yet, true to form, Colin’s more combative side won out.  

“Well, I don’t particularly see gentlemen lining up to speak with you today, so I rather think you might need some more help,” he shot back. 

You felt your face flush as you gasped in offense. “That is so patronizing. I’ve barely been here three seconds! I hardly think that amount of time is indicative of whether any suitors would like to speak with me today.”

It was true; Colin had rushed to greet you moments after you had stepped down from your carriage. But aside from the fact that he was embarrassed by his eagerness and trying to cover it up, he was not about to let up, not against you. 

“Do you think, for once in your life, you could engage with me without throwing a fit?” he asked you, anger seeping into his words. 

You were speechless, your eyes wide as you stared at him. Your instinct would have been to get mad at him, but unfortunately, he was right. You were struggling to let yourself be vulnerable with Colin, never mind how good of a time you had had dancing with him. But you were too stubborn to accept his offer to walk with him. You simply stared at him, your eyes swimming with uncertainty, and silently willed him to keep pushing you to accept his help. It was the only way you would allow yourself to do it, and you were relieved when he held out his arm for you to take.

“Come along,” he said, rolling his eyes. “For both our sakes, we should just walk to avoid a scene.”

“Very well, then,” you relented, slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow. You were momentarily distracted by the feeling of his arm beneath your touch. It lit a fire inside of you that you weren’t familiar with, and you suddenly found yourself out of breath. 

“My sister can chaperone,” he suggested, gently guiding you toward where his family was situated. 

You could only nod dumbly in response, the flutters in your lower abdomen only growing stronger when he placed his hand over yours. Vaguely registering Daphne and Simon waving at you, you smiled and greeted them, grateful to have something else to focus on that wasn't Mr. Bridgerton's very well-sculpted arms. 

As you began to stroll, the Bassets a few paces behind you, you felt that your voice was stable enough to begin a conversation. “So, Mr. Bridgerton, indulge my curiosity and tell me more about your travels. Have you ever been lost at sea?”

Colin smiled at you, unable to hold back his fondness for you once again, and his breath was stolen from his lips as he made eye contact with you. You looked back eagerly, staring straight into him, and he was momentarily speechless. But you blinked, indicating that you were still awaiting a response, and he realized he had forgotten himself once again in your presence, an alarmingly increasing trend. 

After clearing his throat, Colin answered, “A few times, yes. Most unfortunate was the time we became lost in the twilight hours when it was freezing out, but the stars proved an exceptionally useful tool in helping us find our way.”

“The stars?” you asked, curious. Could it be that you and Colin had yet another thing in common? It was hard to parse who he had been with you the past few days with the man you had a rivalry with practically from the moment you arrived in England. Who was the real Colin?

“Yes, indeed,” affirmed Colin, his voice revealing a hint of excitement. “They’re actually quite a useful tool. Regardless of our whereabouts, we look at the same constellations, albeit from differing vantage points. For instance, if you look up at the sky any of these nights, and you see three stars close together arranged in a line, that’s-”

“Orion’s belt,” you finished for him, your voice soft. Then, seeing his amused, and admittedly curious, smile, you explained, “My governess used to take me outside at night, even in the winter, so I could look at the stars. I know a fair few constellations, and I always like to know which ones are visible to me.”

Colin shook his head in wonder. The universe was a cruel thing, to make you so perfectly suited to him and make you hate him more than you hated, apparently, anyone or anything else. But it wasn’t like he liked you any better, he reasoned.

“I’d wager you’d be a wonderful navigator, then,” he said. “I’m certain you’d never get lost in treacherous waters.” He had to physically bite his tongue to keep from suggesting that you go with him on his next trip around the world. 

You hummed softly in response. It never quite felt like you had a grip on where you were going. Usually, you just felt like you were groping around in the dark, desperately trying to find the right way to go. 

The promenade stretched on longer than anticipated, with both of you engaging in pleasant conversation throughout, and more than a few stolen glances. It was a shock, really, when Daphne cleared her throat politely behind you and Colin. You suddenly realized that you and Colin had been walking together for longer than was typically appropriate. 

“It might be time for Lady Montclair to promenade with someone else,” she suggested gently, a sympathetic smile on her face as she looked at Colin's crestfallen face. Turning away from you, she leaned over and whispered something unintelligible to Simon as the pair walked away back toward the rest of the Bridgertons, allowing you and Colin a few moments of privacy.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, finding yourself slightly disappointed that your time together was ending. “I’m not quite sure I would have needed your saving again, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

Suddenly, you noticed a piece of lint on the lapel of Colin’s jacket. You reached over, almost instinctively, and picked it off. Your fingers barely grazed his chest, and his words caught in his throat as he saw your hand reach toward his chest in slow motion. 

The two of you stood still, staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, one of your hands still extended toward him. Realizing your actions necessitated an explanation, you hurriedly brought your hand back to your side again and averted your gaze, avoiding eye contact with Colin.

“Lint,” you explained awkwardly. “On your coat.”

Oh, how could you have done something so brash? And in such a public setting, too, you scolded yourself. 

“I-Th-Well, I-Thank you, Lady Montclair,” Colin stuttered out, his brain short-circuiting from your intimate gesture. But you were already walking away, fists clenched at your sides as he saw you walking back to your family. 

Once more, you were intercepted by what could only be described as a horde of men vying for your favor. But, just like two nights prior, all Colin could feel was a pleasant warmth spreading through him as he watched you walk away, your laughter ringing like music in his ears. 

He knew what that was like now. To have you genuinely laugh at something he said. And it was different from how you were with these men. Even different from how you had been with the Duke. His heart warmed when he realized he had something of you that no one else did, and he wanted to bottle up your laugh and keep it in his breast pocket, forever a reminder of you near his heart.

A short distance away, Carlos observed with amusement as Colin stood there, seemingly transfixed by your departure. Standing beside him was Leonor, who had also been privy to the entire spectacle. The two often found themselves together during family outings, enjoying speaking in Spanish for a change. 

“La ama,” Carlos said to Leonor, his tone tinged with amusement at Colin's evident infatuation (He loves her).

Suppressing a chuckle, Leonor discreetly cleared her throat. “Y cuanto tiempo crees que será hasta que se de cuenta?” she quipped in response (And how long do you think it'll be until he realizes?).

---

In the late afternoon, you found yourself seated by the pianoforte, the pleasant notes of your scales filling the room. Across from you, your mother quietly engrossed herself in a book, while Isabelle diligently worked on her needlepoint. Suddenly, the tranquil atmosphere of your sitting room was disrupted as your butler made an unexpected entrance. 

“Lady Montclair, a visitor,” he said politely, bowing slightly. 

Your fingers stopped playing and you looked toward your mother, who had a questioning look on her face. 

“I hadn’t been expecting anyone. And at this hour? Is everything alright?” she asked the butler. 

His face flushed slightly. “My apologies, I meant Lady Y/N Montclair,” he corrected himself. “It’s the Duke.”

But he barely had time to announce your visitor before Lord Barlow strode into your sitting room, hair disheveled and bags under his eyes. He looked positively ghastly, and you wouldn’t have doubted it if he told you he hadn’t slept in a week. 

He was panting and slightly sweaty, clearly having rushed over to your home for some unknown reason, when he took off his hat and crouched next to the pianoforte bench.

“Forgive me,” he addressed the other women in the room. Then, turning back to you, he roughly grasped your hand, placing a wet kiss on the back of it. You slightly cringed in disgust, not particularly wanting this man anywhere near you.

“Y/N, my darling, I am so terribly sorry for what happened at the Bridgerton ball. It was unforgivable. Except that you must forgive me!” he pleaded, voice full of desperation.

You were utterly confused, and more than a little angry. Who did this man think he was, barging into your home at this hour and demanding forgiveness? You shared a look with your mother, who looked equally as scandalized. 

“Lord Bar-” you started, but before you could finish, he interrupted you, grasping your hand even tighter.

“No! Not Lord Barlow. Arthur. Your Arthur. It’s me; I’m here. What happened with Miss Barrington was a foolish mistake, and it will never happen again. Marry me, Y/N. Marry me and make me the happiest man in all of Mayfair. In all of England, even. Please,” he begged. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Leonor leaving the room quietly, and your stomach churned uncomfortably at the idea of having to face this man on your own. You breathed deeply, calming yourself with the thought that your mother remained in the room before you addressed Lord Barlow. 

“I don’t understand,” you said, shaking your head. “What of Miss Barrington? She will be ruined if you do not marry her.”

He scoffed, throwing his head back and shaking his head in annoyance. “What of her? She is not as important to me as you are,” he said lowly. “I do not have with her what I have with you. I need you, Y/N. Please marry me.”

Letting the anger that had been slowly bubbling inside you take over, you snatched your hand out of his grip and stood up, towering over him. “Are you quite finished? You are completely unbelievable. I will not marry you, your Grace, and it is egregious that you would even suggest it. Do you truly have so little respect for Miss Barlow that you would leave her, ruined, as you married someone else? Do you truly think so lowly of me that you thought I would say yes?”

“Barlow, take your leave,” came a commanding voice from the doorway before the Duke could respond to you. 

With a surge of relief, you caught sight of Louis and Philippe standing firm with Leonor at their side, their expressions firm and determined, while she was looking anxiously between you and Lord Barlow. 

But the Duke was relentless, his desperation palpable as he pleaded his case, his words brimming with urgency. He stood up from where he had been kneeling and turned to face your brothers. "You don’t understand. I must marry your sister. I must!"

“I believe my brother asked you to take your leave, your Grace,” said Philippe, voice cold and cutting. “Louis, if you could be so kind as to escort Lord Barlow out.”  

Louis wasted no time, roughly grabbing Barlow’s arm and dragging him away from you as the man protested profusely. But your brother wasn’t going to let him hurt you again. It was bad enough that he had already done it once, but Louis would rather come to blows right now in your home than let the Duke stand in your presence for another second.

As Louis ushered Lord Barlow out of your sitting room, Philippe placed a protective hand in front of Leonor and pulled her behind him. Ensuring his wife’s safety, he turned to you, a concerned expression on his face.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

But you didn’t have time to answer, your father storming into the room with fury in his eyes.

“Was that Barlow I saw in the hall? Can someone give me an explanation?" he demanded, his gaze fixed on your stricken expression.

Your voice trembled as you confessed, still reeling from the shock of the encounter. "He asked me to marry him," you admitted, the words hanging heavily in the air. 

“She said no, of course. And put him in his place,” your mother added, eyes wide and fixed on the doorway still. It seemed that Lord Barlow’s unexpected appearance had been an unwelcome shock for her, too.

Your father placed his hands on his hips, staring at the two of you in disbelief. “Well done,” he finally conceded after a few moments of silence. 

You nodded meekly in response, not quite feeling anything right at this minute. 

“He is not worthy of you, Y/N. A title and fortune are important, of course, but so is honor. And he clearly has none,” said your father, disgust clear in his voice.

You’d heard this speech a million times, but this time the words rang loudly in your ears. A title and fortune are important, his words echoed in your mind. It was what your father always said, but this time you couldn’t help thinking: Colin Bridgerton, whom you had developed an inexplicable fondness for, possessed neither title nor fortune.

But as quickly as the doubt arose, you cast it aside. You reminded yourself firmly that Colin was not the sort of man a Montclair could marry. The reality was stark, and you refused to entertain the notion that such a match could ever be possible. You weren’t even sure that you liked the man, why were you thinking of marrying him?

—

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@sydneygal3107

[princessmaybank]

Jealousy

Pairings: Jealous!JJ x Fem!reader

Warnings: Public, p in v, hickey, oral (m receiving), slapping, nicknames, etc.

Summary: JJ is jealous of Pope, and you prove you are only his.

Authors Note: If I missed anything let me know! Enjoy!

Moodboard: Jealousy

Why was she laughing so hard with Pope?! I know Pope, he's not that fucking funny.

We were all on a trip to see as many states as we possibly could. It's only been a week and I already just want to go home. Y/N has been spending all her time with Pope, talking about the history of things we've seen. Right now we are in New York, walking Broadway. "We should go see Hamilton!!!" Pope sounded way too happy about that. "What's Hamilton? Some geeky history shit?" I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. "It's a musical JJ, I've told you this. And it would be a good compromise for all of us. It's history for me and Pope but it's music for you guys." Y/N seemed excited about that. "Musicals aren't really my kinda thing. Nothing wrong with them but I don't listen to music like that." She laughed at me. "JJ this isn't a regular musical, they mostly rap instead of singing." I groaned as she pulled me by the arm into the theatre with everyone else trudging along behind us.

"What's wrong Jayj?" She asked, clearly she saw my cheerful grin. Just as I was about to answer, Pope plopped down into the seat next to her. Out of jealousy and put my arm around her shoulders but Pope still caught her eye. She forgot about the conversation she had started with me?!

I can't take this shit anymore, I stormed out of the theatre as the show was starting and I waited in the lobby of the bathrooms so I could catch my breath.

Y/N came crashing through the theatre doors and stomped towards me. "What is wrong with you?" She asked only fueling my rage. "Why don't you just go back to your little boyfriend." I rolled my eyes. "What?!" She was playing dumb. "Your boyfriend." I took her phone, went to her camera roll and scrolled through the hundreds of selfies they took together this week.

"Pope?! You're jealous of Pope? Really?!" Y/N questioned me. "You haven't given me a reason to not be jealous of him!" I shouted at her. "So you're jealous because I took pictures with my best friend?" She was confused. "Not just the fucking pictures!" "Then what is it?!" She got in my face. She was trying to be intimidating but she just looked so sexy. I had the perfect view, I am a good almost foot taller than her and she's wearing that beautiful yellow sundress I got her that shows her tits so well.

"I see the way he looks at you babe! I look at you the exact same way!" I tossed my hands in the air. She scoffed. "Jayj?" She asked sweetly. "Yes doll?" I replied. She grabbed my hands and slapped them on her ass. "Can Pope touch me here?" She asked and moved my hands to her tits. "or here?" I bit my lip as she moved them lower. "or here, on my delicate little pussy?" She whispered. I shook my head no. "Then why are we having this conversation?" She looked in the women's bathroom before grabbing my hand and leading me to the last stall. "If you were horny..you could've just said so baby." She smirked before locking the stall door, throwing her hair back, and getting on her knees. Y/N pulled my pants down along with my boxers and kissed my tip gently. "Already dripping with pre cum for me? How long have you been like this baby?" I was getting ready to answer but she sucked every ounce of pre cum out of me and off my dick. "Fuck.." Was all that slipped from my lips. She looked up at me with a smirk. As much as I loved her pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock, it was definitely my turn.

I pulled her up and took her little yellow dress off.

I started reaching for the backs of her thighs. "Jump" I whispered. She gladly obeyed. I pressed her back against the cold wall as she wrapped her arms around me tighter. She placed a sloppy kiss onto my lips as I lined myself up with her hole. I got too into the kiss and simply slipped in, which caused moans to escape from both of us.

I couldn't take it any longer, I just needed to fuck her. She was moaning in time with my thrusts as I picked up the pace. Her head rolled back but I couldn't let her look away. I gave her a bit of a harsh slap on the cheek and forced her head down. "Eyes on me baby." Which only caused her more pleasure. "Could he fuck you like I do?" She shook her head no in response. "You know how to use that pretty mouth of yours. Speak." I said with another slap. "No, no!" I chuckled lightly to myself, going even faster than before.

As we were reaching our climaxes together, the door opened. "Y/N?" We heard a faint whisper. I covered Y/N's mouth to make sure she wouldn't make a peep. She was cumming on my dick, and someone who's been in bed with her a time or two, I know she's quite fucking loud.

"Y/N/N?" We heard a different voice ask. It sounded like Sarah and Kie. Probably wondering where the hell we went. I slowly slid my hand off her mouth and tried to let her answer. "Yes?" She simply asked. "Is everything okay?" Kie said, it sounded like she was getting closer to the stall door. "Yes I'll be out in a minute!" My pretty girl responded. I couldn't help myself in this moment. My dick was still inside her, and I was still horny. Maybe I could get her to go again..? I wrapped my lips around her neck, being cautious of my volume. I kept sucking on her sweet spot as they had their conversation. "Are you sure? You've missed nearly the entire first act!" Sarah said. "Mm yes! I'm okay, I'll be out and tell you when I'm done in here!" She tried not to moan, what a good girl. "We can stay and help if you'd like." Kie suggested. Hell no. Get the fuck out. "I'm fine! I just need to be alone! Thank y-you-!" She said surprisingly well. There was a moment of silence, some shuffling, and then we heard the door slam as we heard the two girls walk out. I released my mouth from her neck and set her down. We used the toilet paper to wipe ourselves off before getting dressed. I guess I wouldn't get lucky two times in a row.

She walked out of the restroom to make sure I could come out undetected. I'm assuming I couldn't because she was taking so long.

Y/N's POV

I walked through the door and was immediately stopped by Sarah and Kiara. Sarah looked at me and pointed with a smirk. "Ah-hah! I knew it!" She elbowed Kiara who was gawking at me. "What?" I said confused. "I thought I recognized those boots. You don't wear those kind of boots Y/N." Kiara teased. "And your dress is a little dirty, thought I saw it on the floor." Sarah picked. "I don't know what you two are talking about!" I crossed my arms. "Where'd the hickey come from?" Kiara smirked. "Fine. Fuck you two. Go away so he can come out." They smiled and giggled as they headed back into the theatre. I looked around before opening the door and telling JJ to hurry. He wasn't fast enough though, apparently everyone is curious as to where we were in that moment. Pope came out of the theatre doors and saw us. "Y/N I was looking for you!" Pope came over to us, not really realizing what happened. "Of course you were." JJ scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?" Pope started to get defensive. "Stop trying to steal her man, she's taken!" JJ was getting a little aggressive. "What?! I'm not stealing anyone! She's my best friend! So are you! Why would I do that to you?" Pope said trying to stay calm.

JJ really thought about Popes words, he realized that he had nothing to be afraid of. They were best friends, they would never do something like that to each other. "Just kiss and make up already! You made me miss enough of the show already Maybank!" He giggled at my comment and hugged Pope. We rushed inside to see everyone sitting together, but one thing stood out. John B was crying. "We will now take a 15 minute intermission." We heard over the speakers. Damn it. "JB you good man?" JJ asked. "It's so fucking beautiful. Such a great story." He cried more. "Wait till act two!" Pope said. Needless to say, John B walked out of there bawling even more.

[biteofcherry]

I see you're being a menace Navy! And at the very start of the week 😜 Then I shall fight your attack @navybrat817 with a beast of my own! 😏 Who's not scared of the big bad wolf?

Bad Moon Rising

alpha!Ari Levinson x omega female reader

warnings: none; a bit of dirty talk; brief mention of chase kink; shifter!Ari; wolf!Ari; alpha!Ari;

You chop the ingredients with viciousness, pouring into it your need to stab a certain someone and cut off the invisible ties which bound your future.

Yet you keep it diced nicely, instead of turning everything into a mush.

Partly because you aren't that childish to act out, but also because your mother ingrained enough of proper hospitality behavior that you couldn't simply shake it off to spite a bloody Alpha.

Especially not when he was invited to your family home, by your parents, for a Sunday dinner.

So they could meet their future son-in-law officially; as if Ari didn't drag you back marked with his cum, after chasing you through the woods a week ago.

You were annoyed that everyone seemed to forget about that part, but you were also glad they never pointed out how you clung to his side despite glaring murderous intent at him.

Was it the vulnerability that you tried to shield yourself behind the big Alpha, or did that instinctive chase and victorious marking successfully lured your wolf side to accept Ari as your mate?

You're not sure.

You scrubbed your body clean of his cum, yet it still feels like his smell lingers on you. Your tongue tingles and mouth fills with saliva whenever you think of the salty taste of him.

With an angry grunt, you chop a cucumber in half. Then dice it with precise, quick moves.

Pity you didn't have the knife with you when you opened the door earlier. You could've stabbed Ari in the thigh when he greeted you with a grin and a comment that he's surprised to see you waiting in place, since he half expected to have to chase after you again.

He brought gifts, because apparently he was raised well, even though you thought him to be the most primitive beast.

A bouquet of flowers for your mother, a bottle of top shelf bourbon to share with your father, and a blackberry tart for dessert (which was one of your favorites and you found yourself annoyed that he chose so well).

Cursing under your breath, you stand up on your tiptoes to reach the black glass bowl on the highest shelf. Your fingertips barely reach it.

Suddenly, an arm wraps around your middle. Solid, hot body presses against your back.

You're startled, but the familiar now scent of pine and moss wraps around you, caressing your animal side like the gentlest pet.

You gulp, watching muscles flex beneath the bronzed skin on Ari's forearm as he easily reaches the bowl and takes it down for you.

"You're trembling," Ari notices, keeping you caged between his massive body and the counter.

He splays his fingers over your belly, the other hand tracing along the goosebumps on your arm. You feel the coarse denim of his jeans against the back of your thighs; your sundress too thin to block the warmth of him from seeping in.

"A mountain of a man, who could easily break my neck with one hand, sneaked up on me. Of course I'm trembling."

You don't believe your own lie, either. The cool indifference you hoped to carry your voice sounded too husky.

Ari's lips graze the shell of your ear. Puff of his breath seems to disperse through your whole body, like an echo calling out to your nature.

"We both know the only parts I'm going to break are your holes, little Omega," his voice is deceptively soft; more of a promise than a threat and your body ignites at the prospect.

You hope the smell of baked potatoes and roast resting out of the oven is enough to mask the splash of your arousal, but with the Alpha's sharpened senses you're not sure it helps cover your reaction.

So you lightly jab an elbow into his stomach to push him away (before he makes a mess out of you, or before your parents find you in a compromising position).

"Don't be crude," you huff, filling your hands with chopped veggies and tossing them into the bowl.

Ari chuckles, but steps aside. Not far enough for your liking, only a few inches as he leans his hip against the counter and studies your profile.

His head slightly tilted, Ari licks his lips, dragging his teeth over the bottom lip as he watches you dip a finger into the jar with dressing and bring it up to your lips to taste the seasoning.

"I'm not made to be waxing poetics," he admits with a shrug. "But I also don't think they'd work on you."

"You don't know that. You don't know anything about me." You tilt your chin up, pouring the dressing over the salad.

"I know you're determined. Smart. And strong willed." Ari sounds as impressed and fascinated as he did that first night you met him. "I also know you're closer to the wild, animal side than you let on."

He traces a finger along your shoulder, flicking the strap of your dress aside.

"I know you've got as much of thrill from the chase as I did," Ari's finger draws lower, across the swell of your breast.

"I know your wolf accepts me. And that you're primed to take me even now..."

His finger presses against your stiffened nipple and your knees threaten to give out.

It's the truth that scares you the most. You're a shifter - part human and part wolf. And that night when Ari hunted you down, your wolf submitted.

The bitch fucking yielded in delight for the big bad Alpha.

"Stop it!" You slap Ari's hand away and adjust the strap back into place.

"Take this out to the backyard," you place the bowl in his hands. "You were supposed to be there, anyway. You're a guest, act like one."

Ari's fingertips brush yours as he takes the bowl from you, the contact, though minimal, makes your heart jump.

"Only three weeks, little Omega," he says, holding your gaze. "Three weeks until the ceremony. Then I'll have all of you."

You can't be thinking about that; about the details of the ceremony and the bond that will tie you to Ari forever. Every time your thoughts briefly turn in that direction, your wolf perks up in some wild need and you end up drenched and restless.

"Well," you lick your lips, yanking your hands away from Ari's touch, "maybe I'll run away."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," Ari grins, so fucking cocky.

He winks at you, then leaves the kitchen. For a short moment you consider if you'd menage to run away this very moment.

[harrysfolklore]

four angsty scenarios with boyfriend!harry - headcanon

you give him the silent treatment

you and harry have good communication as a couple, always talking about your feelings and the things that bother you, so when he says something that hurt you and you decide to just not talk to him, he feels frustrated.

he absolutely hates when you shut him out, he knows you’re upset at him and wants to make it better, but he can’t if you won’t speak to him

“come on, darling. we always talk about our feelings, tell me what it is that made you upset and i’ll fix it, if there’s something that i need to apologize for i need to know”

his tone is definitely frustrated, even tho he’s getting upset himself, he doesn’t stop using pet names with you

you just keep ignoring him through the day and harry’s frustration grows, to the point where he stops trying to get you to talk to him and the house is just quiet

when it’s time for you both to go to bed he just can’t stand it anymore and he’s determined to get you to talk to him

“come on, love. i’ve been patient with you but you need to tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it. we never go to bed angry, that’s not us”

and you end up talking everything through, he listens to how you feel and you listen to him as well, reminding each other that you’re a team

harry is jealous

you were oblivious to the guy shamelessly flirting with you, thinking he was just a very friendly person who wanted to have a chat

but harry notices his intentions, and he’s absolutely angry, not only because a random guy at a party was flirting with his girlfriend, but also because she doesn’t seem bothered by it and almost even leads him on

he knows you love him, and he never questions your loyalty, he also knows that the man just looks foolish because at the end of the day you’re going home to him, but he’s still angry

“if you’re done flirting with that bloke, i would like to head home, i’ll be waiting in the car” he tells you with a serious tone, not waiting for you to reply and walking out of the club, leaving you frozen at your spot

when you finally reach the car after grabbing your coat, the first thing that leaves your mouth is a “what the fuck was that?”

and he just gives you a cold stare that sends shivers down your spine, and that’s when you knew you fucked up

“the dude was flirting with you all night and you never stopped him, hell you even batted your eyelashes at him, and i was there looking like a complete idiot”

that’s when it hits you, and even tho you felt like you couldn’t apologize enough, you still did it all the way to your shared home, harry only giving you a “i don’t want to talk right now” and going straight to bed

when you got in bed next to him, you apologized again, hugged him from the back and kissed his neck multiple times, he was still upset but he held your hand nevertheless, you knew you would fix this in the morning

harry leaves the house during an argument

it was a very very heated argument, so many hurtful words were said and you've been yelling for hours, something that rarely ever happened between the two of you

harry was beyond frustrated, his hair almost falling out because of the amount of times he ran his hands through it harshly

you, on the other hand, your eyes were red and your chest hurt from all your crying, you hated confrontation and you hated arguing with him

"i'm done with is, if you're not compromised with this relationship as i am, then maybe we should wonder if it's even worth it to be together" and with that, he was out of the house, not even giving you the chance to ask him to stay, and your heart broke in a million pieces

you sat at the bottom of the stairs and sobbed, all kind of scenarios running through your head, but the one that hurt the most was harry leaving you because of stupid commitment issues

an hour later he arrived back to the house, and when he found you in that state, his own heart broke and all he could do was hold you close

"i thought you were leaving me" "it's okay baby, i'm not leaving i just needed to clear my head, we're okay, we're going to talk this through"

harry forgets about your date night

you were eagerly waiting for tonight, you boyfriend finally agreed on going out on a date after so many busy months were you just couldn't fine the time to do it

but as you sat in your kitchen counter, with make up on, hair done and a nice dress, realizing that harry completely forgot you guys were supposed to go out, you felt stupid

you waited for him to arrive home, with a glass of wine in your hand and the coldest look you could put on your face, you wanted him to feel bad that he stood you up

"hey honey, you look gorgeous but what's the occa- shit!" was what left his mouth when he saw you, realizing that he fucked up

he had been so caught up in the studio, too focused on writing down melodies and lyrics that he forgot that he was supposed to take his girlfriend out for dinner, and he felt horrible for that

"look baby, i'm sorry, i lost track of time but i'll make it up for you, i swear" he pleaded "don't. i don't want to hear it now, just take the couch and we can talk in the morning"

and harry almost wanted to cry as he laid on the cold couch, he knew he had a lot of amends to make in the morning

this is my first time writing angst so please give me your feedback !! i hope you like this <3

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[loko4koko]

Cowboy Toji. He's taken over my mind. Imagine him tied up with his own rope, commanding you to help him, but instead, we tease him till he's all hot and bothered.

oh my sweet anon you have NO idea how this ask has affected me 😭 as someone who used to be heavy in the rdr2 fandom, i have a LOT (A LOT) of thoughts about sexy yummy cowboy men hehe

gn!reader but they do wear a dress!

MDNI 18+ BELOW THE CUT

cowboy!toji—well, he isn’t just a cowboy, he’s a bounty hunter. one of the best around, too. he has no rivals because everyone knows they aren’t even close to being as tough as him. he’ll hog tie a bounty right up (or shoot them if they’re being a pain in the ass), sling ‘em on the back of his horse, and when he’s done dropping them at the sheriff’s, he’ll use the hefty reward to celebrate at the nearby saloon.

only, toji may have celebrated a little too hard this time, ‘cause he fell victim to one of the oldest scams in the book. 4 whiskey shots and 2 beers in, toji gets approached by a working girl, and she’s real pretty, too, so who would he be to say no to a little company? so he stumbles off with her, following her lead to a secluded room in the saloon. but what happens there is far from what toji had expected.

when he wakes up, only a couple of hours later, he can’t see anything. the room is dark, and…why does it feel so cold? there’s a grimace on toji’s face as he tries to get up from what he thinks is the floor, only to realize his limbs are completely immobile. ‘that fucking girl…” he thinks, hissing as the ropes tied around his almost completely naked form dig into his flesh. he’s left in nothing but his underwear, grumbling angrily to himself while he tries desperately to wriggle out of his binds. that girl must’ve been a pro at this, though, ‘cause those ropes aren’t budgin’.

you’re in the storage room next door, organizing the newest case of liqour when you hear it. there’s someone groaning, some shuffling, and it startles the hell out of you. you set the box full of alcohol aside and listen further, and when the person swears your eyes widen. you tiptoe your way out to the hall, pressing your ear up against the door of the second, empty storage room. “goddamn thievin’ girl..shit..” you hear them say. it’s a man’s voice, real deep and boy, does he sound angry. your curiosity gets the best of you in the end, so you push the door open, reaching to turn on the lantern near the entrance. it takes a second for your eyes to adjust but when they do, your breath hitches.

there’s a man—just like you’d heard from the other room—and he’s..oh. your face grows hot as you take in the compromising position he seems to be in. his short black hair is tousled, scar on his lip twisted up as he tries to wriggle himself free, and when he looks up at you, it’s like a switch flips inside of you.

“ya mind givin’ me a hand here, doll?”

those dark, brooding eyes follow your every movement as you cross the short distance to reach him. you drop to the floor in front of him, dirtying the long skirt of your dress but you couldn’t care less. you’ve heard stories of a famous bounty hunter, one who could clear rooms with his gaze alone. the one with the scar and the midnight black stallion. the man who rides through the night like death incarnate. the one and only toji fushiguro. and here he was, bound in his own ropes, right in front of you.

your eyes are full of wonder as you take him in, hand subconsciously reaching out to smooth a thumb across his scarred lip. it’s real. he’s real. and he’s bared before you, wrapped up like a present that only you know about. your fingers skip a path down to his chiseled jaw, then further, down past the thick cords of his neck, before they come to a stop on his broad chest. the skin is flawed—healed knife slashes and bullet grazings etched across his pale flesh—but still so soft, so inviting with how it ripples under your delicate touch. as you explore him, your thumb brushes his nipple and he shudders, steely eyes boring into you when you meet his stare.

“this ain’t what i meant by ‘givin’ me a hand, sweetheart’,” he says, voice rumbling low.

“i- i’m sorry, do you..want me to stop?”

he’s silent for a long moment, jaw clenched tight while your hand hovers just off of his toned abdomen. your palm is so close you can still feel the heat radiating from him, and it’s killing you how badly you want that heat on you directly from the source.

“no.”

so you don’t stop. your hands are fully on him now, groping at his chest and caressing his stomach. and when your hand trails lower, your eyes meet his again and he holds your gaze quietly. you can feel how hard he is through his underwear, can feel how hot and big and throbbing he is. lip between your teeth, you take the plunge and grip him tight, barely able to wrap your hand around the girthy shaft. he hisses, eyes still on you, unwavering in their confidence. it doesn’t matter to toji that he’s the one restrained, he knows (in his sober state) that he could intimidate anyone into backing down, and you’re no exception. but there’s something in him, something that he sees in you that has him keening at your touch. in him- addicted, in you- addicting.

you’ve reduced this big, burly, violent man into a grunting mess. there’s sticky spots of pre staining his underwear and his head has fallen back between his bulky shoulders and fuck, he wants to cum, so bad—so fucking bad—but you’re not as sweet as you look, keep slowing the pump of your wrist down when his hips start to grind up into the strokes.

are you going to be nice, be kind to this scary man? or are you going to leave him there, high and dry? choose wisely, he’s a professional at finding people who’ve wronged him…

>thank u for reading ♡︎

>masterlist.exe

>send a request here!

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𓅨 Morpheus' Adventure with Animal Control

Morpheus' Adventure with Animal Control: Morpheus gets picked up animal control and sent to the local animal shelter. Matthew sends you to the rescue.

Warnings: Meowpheus, Language, Nudity.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader.

Word Count: ~4.3k

How dare these humans assume that he is just another cat on the streets! Morpheus is fuming, naturally. He’s been wandering the streets of your hometown, tending to the dreams of the cats, when some mortal picks him up and stuffs him in a cage! How dare they think he’s just another stray! But there’s nothing the Endless can do, as he’s currently barred from shifting back to his human form or using his power due to an agreement with his sibling. It’s a temporary agreement, but nonetheless, he’s stuck as a cat and in the hands of mortals!

Sharp blue eyes glare at the metal grates confining him in a box. Morpheus lets out a displeased rumble. The mortal sitting in the driver’s seat glances at the black feline and chuckles.

“I know, buddy, living on the street was probably freeing, but now you can have a home and not worry about where your next meal will come from!” Morpheus’ eye twitches, and he lets out another huff. The mortal thinks she’s doing him a charity! He has no need for such things nor does he need a home. He already has one within the Waking World. Your home.

Grumpily settling in place, Morpheus turns his eyes to the window above his cage and watches as buildings pass. Help will come, much to Morpheus’ distaste. Reduced to a stray feline... The rest of the car ride to the animal shelter, Morpheus is subjected to subpar singing and baby voices from the woman.

When the woman gets out of the car and carries Morpheus towards a building, his claws dig into the plastic beneath him as he’s jostled. He makes more sounds of an unhappy feline but only receives more babyish cooing from the woman. Never again, he promises himself, he will never allow himself to be in such a compromising position. He’s jostled some more as the woman moves from room to room until the Dream Lord finds himself in a large room that smells of chemicals and other felines. The box is placed on a table, and Morpheus eyes the metal grates when more voices join the woman.

“Where did you find this one?”

“Near the park where we found the others last week. This one seems to be well-fed, so I don’t think he was born feral.” Feral? Morpheus bristles at being called feral... but the conversation only grows worse. “I didn’t see anything that signaled he’d been abandoned, so maybe he ran away.”

“We can check for a microchip. You got the scanner?” A device is passed between the mortals just as the metal grate in front of Morpheus opens. A face appears before hands reach into the cage and grab his body. Morpheus is too stunned by the utter audacity of the mortal to do anything other than let them haul his large body from his confines.

He’s a very large cat. Far larger than the mortals expect, and by far the largest they’ve ever seen. And entirely black. Placed on his feet, Morpheus eyes the mortals as something is waved over his neck.

“He’s not microchipped.” A deeper voice says while Morpheus lets out a disgruntled meow and tries to sulk off the cold table. Hands stop him, pulling Morpheus right back to the center of the table.

“Not microchipped. We can put out a notice with his picture, see if someone recognizes him.” A mortal speaks while hands press against his body. Morpheus reluctantly allows the prodding, not wanting to react in any way other than what’s expected of a feline. He’s beginning to get short-tempered with the touches but withholds lashing out with his claws and teeth... that is until the vet tries to take his temperature...

You haven’t seen Morpheus within the Dreaming in several days... he’s also stood you up on your visits to the park. Not the worst thing in the world, but you’re slightly upset because you sort of kind of have a crush on the Endless and him ghosting you hurts. But you’re not dating, and he doesn’t seem to be romantically interested (at least in your mind, he however…). So you’re morosely sipping a hot drink while staring out a window in your flat, trying not to be depressed. That’s when a black blob flies into your window with a loud smack, startling you.

“What the hell?” You gape, setting your drink down and standing up. Had that been a bird? It’s a little big to be one of the crows you occasionally see in your housing area. As you step up to the pane of glass, you catch sight of a very dazed Matthew sprawled out on the ground just outside. “What the hell, Matthew!” You exclaim, running for the back door of your flat. Exiting the building, you scurry up to the downed bird in confusion.

“I think I scrambled my brain,” Matthew groans while you collect his body. “Totally thought that was an open window.”

“Nope, that window doesn’t open,” you tell him as you carry him into your flat. Depositing him onto the table, you check the rattled raven over for injuries and are happy to see that he has none. “So... why’d you try to fly in here in such a rush?”

“Oh yeah!” Matthew exclaims, snapping to and scrambling to his stick-like feet. “WE’VE GOT TROUBLE!” The raven thunders in your face. You’re about to tell Matthew to tone it down, but he isn’t done. “So the boss is kind of stuck as a cat right now and can’t shift back for a little while, and he just got picked up by animal control!”

You blink, your mind trying to process what Matthew has shouted at you with such fervor.

“Sorry, what was that?” You question, your eyebrows scrunching together.

“Morpheus is stuck in his cat form and the animal shelter is going to neuter him!” Matthew screeches in a bluster, not knowing if the shelter would actually neuter the Endless... but at this point? It’s not out of the realm of possibilities. That’s the usual routine at shelters to reduce the feral population. Only Morpheus isn’t feral. Neither is he a cat.

“How the fuck did that happen?” You blurt out. Matthew waves his wings.

“Fuck if I know! You gotta save him before he gets the snip-snip!”

“Right, probably should do that,” you mutter to yourself, frantically looking for your car keys. You’re out of your flat and in your car in under twenty seconds, not giving Matthew a chance to even tell you what Morpheus looks like as a cat. The raven only hopes that you’ll figure out which cat is Morpheus... and that you make it before his boss loses his dignity.

You’re well frazzled by the time you barge into the town’s local animal shelter. They all look at you in surprise before someone approaches and asks if they can help you.

“My cat,” you blurt out loudly. “He’s— I lost my cat... I was told he was taken here, but I—” You don’t know what to say, because you’ve never seen Morpheus in cat form. You don’t know if he looks like a specific breed, what size he is, or if he has any identifying marks. You know nothing. Luckily, the shelter volunteer doesn’t ask you any questions and simply leads you to the holding room full of cats. You’re overwhelmed; the room is a storage area with several cats sulking about. Shit. He could be any one of them.

“I’ll leave you here to be reunited with your kitty,” the worker tells you. “Doc’s calling; I’ll be away for only a bit.” You watch them walk away and whimper, fearing you won’t be able to pick out who Morpheus is because none of the cats have an ‘Endless’ vibe.

Dropping into a lone chair, you slump your head into your hands with a defeated sound as a few of the cats come up to sniff you. You try to find Morpheus among them, you really do, but none of them act like Morpheus or look like him. Would cat Morpheus even act like the normal Morpheus you’re used to? While you’re almost ready to break down into tears at the thought of Morpheus being stuck as a cat and heaven forbid, neutered, the worker returns.

“Did you find— Oh my, no! Bad kitty!” The worker exclaims, much to your confusion. You look at what they’re staring at, only to find an enormous black cat with a cone of shame standing in front of you and staring into your eyes with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. You know that gaze. The cat jumps into your lap and rises on its hind legs to plant its paws on your chest. Relief floods your body because you know this is Morpheus.

Then you notice the bandage wrapped around his hind leg.

“Morpheus, what did you do!?” You sharply exclaim, your hands reaching for the clearly wrapped injury. No wonder he’s wearing the cone of shame! Morpheus begins softly purring to reassure you and assert that he’s fine and there’s no need for you to worry.

“Oh! Is this your cat?” The worker asks as you peer at the feline’s injured leg. It’s tightly wrapped, and most likely the reason for the cone. You look at them and nod.

“Yes, he’s my cat,” you stutter out, your fingers unconsciously running down the feline dream lord’s back. He finds your touch pleasurable and arches his back into your touch. “I... I didn’t realize he’d gotten out.”

I am pleased that you came to rescue me from these deplorable mortals.

“They’re just doing their job,” you automatically chide Morpheus as he lets out a disgruntled meow. “Don’t complain.”

They tried to accost— You cut off Morpheus’ accusing words.

“Not right now,” you tell him before your cheeks grow hot. The worker probably can’t hear Morpheus speaking to you, so it would be odd for you to argue with him while he’s in cat form. What kind of nutty human talks to their cat like this? You clear your throat. “I’m so sorry if he caused you trouble. May I ask what happened? He wasn’t like this last I knew...” The worker waves you off.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. He seems quite attached to you, and some cats just don’t like people other than their owners.” Your hand, which rests on Morpheus’ back, presses down to stop him from going off on a tangent about him being an Endless and no Endless have owners. He doesn’t speak but certainly lets out a rumbling growl to air his displeasure. “When we were giving him a check-up, he didn’t like having his temperature checked. He hurt himself trying to escape the exam room, so cone of shame for him.”

You eye Morpheus with a raised eyebrow, and he just huffs and presses himself further against your chest, practically laying on you. You pat the space between his ears to calm him down as he eyes the worker with a clear warning.

“He’s not usually so mean,” you nervously say, running your fingers down Morpheus’ long back. His fur feels so soft and silky, but you honestly wonder why he’s so big.

I am not mean... and get this deplorable mortal contraption off my neck! Morpheus demands, his eyes staring into yours like pools of cerulean water.

You ignore the grumbling Endless and wrap your arms around his body to hold him against your chest while you stand up. He’s heavy, as expected given his large size... but the Endless decides to help you out by wiggling upwards and placing his paws on your shoulder, holding himself up as best he can with the monstrosity around his neck. He’s graced with a very nice view of your ass and takes that as part of his consolation prize.

“Is there any paperwork I need to do before I take him home?” you ask, wanting to get the grumpy and injured Dream Lord back to your flat before he causes any more chaos or mayhem.

“Just some sign-out paperwork,” the worker cheerfully replies before guiding you to the front desk. While you’re filling out the paperwork, Morpheus reluctantly has to be placed in an animal carrier to be transported back to your flat. You try to ignore his angry yowls and hisses and certainly the threats and exclamations that float into your mind. There are many threats of ‘you dare...’ and ‘I will darken your dreams with nightmares...’

When you get back to your flat and figure out what the hell is going on, you know Morpheus is going to be in one of his moods. It wouldn’t surprise you if you had nightmares tonight. Sighing, you finish the paperwork and return the pen before looking at Morpheus, who has his razor-sharp claws digging into the soft cardboard of the disposable cat carrier that only just fits his size.

“Morpheus!” you exclaim in exasperation. The yowling cat freezes at your call and looks at you, as do the workers trying to get him into the carrier. “Just let them put you in, the sooner you do that, the sooner you can go home.”

I will not—

You point at the carrier more firmly, and Morpheus ceases his grumbles and struggles almost instantly. He doesn’t wish to argue with you or make trouble, so he goes limp and lets the mortals stuff him into the box and close it. They’re shocked by his sudden compliance.

“Wow, he sure listens to you,” the receptionist says as you hold your tongue and dread the retaliation you’ll get for yelling at an Endless. “What kind of breed is he? He’s so big! I’ve never seen a cat with such pretty eyes. He’s a handsome boy.”

“I think he’s got some Maine Coon in him,” you vaguely mutter, taking the offered carrier and glowering cat from a worker. You can hear Morpheus’ soft grumbled hisses about the babying he’s being subjected to. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him. He’s not usually so grumpy.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’s just stressed out and wants to go home.” You give the workers a thankful smile before lugging Morpheus back to your car and quickly putting him in the passenger seat.

“Let’s agree to never do that again,” you speak, pulling out of the shelter’s parking lot.

Release me.

“Not now.”

Y/N, you will release me from my confines.

“Not while I’m driving!” Morpheus huffs and tries to get comfortable within his small confines. He’ll be free soon enough. So he stares at you through the little holes in the cardboard box, watching your face scrunch up in concentration. It’s only a short drive to your flat, but by the time you park in your driveway and are lugging Morpheus into your house, the sky has opened up and it’s pouring rain.

Stumbling into your flat, you set Morpheus down and let out a deep breath. You’re soaked. Morpheus is apparently stuck as a cat. This is above your pay grade and you’re not even paid! First things first, get Morpheus out and rid him of that cone before he rages at you. Crouching down, you push your dripping hair over your shoulder and undo the little tabs to open the cardboard box. The moment you do, Morpheus awkwardly shoves his coned head up at you with insistence.

“The receptionist was right,” you murmur to yourself. “You are a very handsome cat.”

While I appreciate your sentiments, this is but a temporary form.

You blink and feel your cheeks grow hot. Right. Morpheus can still hear you perfectly well and communicate just the same.

“Speaking of which, how long are you stuck like this?” you ask, your fingers working to undo the collar. When you have it off, Morpheus jumps out of the box and shakes out his body.

The deal shall wear off in hours, or perhaps a day or two. I know not the exact time, but it is soon. Morpheus explains to you, turning in a circle and shaking the leg with the bandage around it. It itches and he finds the cloth irritating.

“Don’t do that,” you scold him, reaching back to stop him from shaking off the bandage.

It is but a mere scratch that will heal once I return to my mortal form. The Endless promises you, sitting down and staring into your worried eyes. You sigh and raise an eyebrow at the Dream Lord. I would not lie to you.

“Okay, just—keep it on for my sake, please?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing once more. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” As you speak, you reach out and brush your fingertips between Morpheus’ ears. The Endless purrs and bumps your fingers, pleased that you’re not terribly upset. He would be despondent should you be upset over such a thing.

Looking down at your soaked attire, you pull your wet shirt away from your skin and grimace.

“Well, now that that has been sorted, I am going to take a shower and get ready for bed. It’s been a long day.” You rise to your feet and begin peeling your clothes off, not really thinking about the fact that Morpheus is in your flat and will definitely be getting a view. The Endless himself is rather in awe of what he sees as you dump your wet clothing in a hamper, now only wearing undergarments. You are an incredibly beautiful human, and oh how he wishes he had the pleasure of acquainting himself with it.

He plans on it. He’s been slowly wooing you over the last few weeks. You both regularly meet at a park, which he consequently missed because of his current condition, and the Endless is now itching to simply declare his intentions with you before someone else comes along and snatches you up. So he follows the route you walked through your flat and then slips through the cracked door into the steamy bathroom.

The shower is on, and you’re humming under your breath as you bathe. Morpheus likes the sound of your voice, your hums even more. He jumps up onto the bathroom counter and sits on the edge, happily listening to you. Waiting. You don’t take long in your shower. You just want to warm up and give your hair a quick wash, nothing too extravagant. When you turn the shower off and draw back the curtains while reaching for your bath towel, you are not expecting to see Morpheus the cat calmly sitting on your bathroom counter, staring at you. With a loud yelp, you quickly cover your naked body with the towel.

“Morpheus!” you hiss at him, mortification now singeing your cheeks. His dark head cocks to the side unperturbed.

We need to speak. You stare at him, wondering if he really just barged into your bathroom and waited for you to get out of the shower. Apparently, he had.

“Do we?” you repeat, craftily maneuvering the towel around your body to better cover yourself. “I’m tired and almost brain-dead. Your little stint at the animal shelter drained me, and I’m still wrapping my head around you being a cat.”

I have many forms... but if you wish to hold off the conversation until the morrow, I will humor you.

“How magnanimous of you,” you dryly reply, walking past him to your bedroom. You make a point to shut the door in his face before he can sneak in so you can change without him peeking at you. This displeases the Endless, and he scratches the door with a paw to make it known. Very known. “I’m changing!” you call back to him, rolling your eyes. He really is acting like a cat.

And I fail to see why you must do so behind a closed door.

“Because I’m naked! That’s why!” Again, he doesn’t understand why you’re being so modest about your body.

You have one of the most beautiful bodies in all of creation, Y/N. Again, may I reiterate my failure to understand why you must have this barrier between us? Morpheus really doesn’t understand why you’re so shy about your complete and utter beauty. If you would just allow him the chance to explain how in love he is with you, then none of this would be necessary! He scratches at the door again, this time with both front paws. Scratch, scratch, scratch. You open the door, dressed in a shirt and underwear, and stare down at the Endless feline in exasperation.

“We are not in a romantic relationship, Morpheus,” you tell him with cheeks aflame. “And I am plain in comparison to those you’ve come across in your life. Let’s not pretend that you’re interested in a mortal, okay?”

I do not appreciate your words of self-demean, Y/N. You have no idea what has gotten his tail in a twist, and you’re not interested in having your heart ripped to shreds by an Endless, so you roll your eyes and go back to drying your hair. Once your hair is moderately dried and ready for bed, you climb into bed and turn out the light with a sigh. Tomorrow, you’re sure that things will return to normal and your odd relationship with Dream of the Endless will go back to the way it was. Just... acquaintances... maybe even friends.

Padding over to the side of your bed, Morpheus jumps up onto the soft surface and walks his way over to your face. You blink at him in confusion.

“You don’t need to stay here while I sleep, you know. I’m sure there are other places you’d rather be.”

I am exactly where I wish to be. Morpheus tells you, rubbing his face against your shoulder to mark you. Then he turns in a circle before settling down next to your chest. You will talk in the morning, and you will finally understand why the Endless spends so much time with you.

“You better inform Matthew that you’re alright,” you murmur, your eyes closing. Your fingers reach out to gently stroke Morpheus’ soft body, and he begins purring. “He was really worried about you.”

Sleep. Such a bossy feline.

You always wake up hot without fail, smothered by blankets and uncomfortable. So when you yawn and snuggle back into your cool mattress, you’re almost keyed into the fact that something is off. But you’re so comfortable and drowsy that you pass off that confusion in exchange for more snuggles with your bed. Then you realize that you’re not exactly sprawled on your mattress, and the coolness you’re feeling is coming from someone else. Dragging your eyes open, you stare at the wall opposite your bed for a few moments in confusion. Then it hits you that you’re half on top of someone, clinging to them with your arm.

“Do you feel rested?” Morpheus’ voice is like a battering ram in your ear, jump-starting your heart and making you physically jerk in place and scramble around so you’re on your hands and knees staring at him. Oh. My. God. He blinks at you expectantly, patiently waiting for an answer. He’s been up since returning to mortal form and has been waiting for you.

“You’re back to normal,” you comment weakly.

“Indeed,” the Endless agrees, tilting his head to the side. “I returned to this form some hours ago.”

“You’re still here,” you dumbly point out. His eyebrow goes up.

“I wish to speak with you regarding a sensitive topic. You asked to wait until the next day to do so, so I have waited.”

“You are naked!” you whisper-shout, trying not to combust or turn into a tomato. God, your body feels so hot at the moment! “And I just slept on you, and you let me!”

“You were deep within your dreams, blissfully resting. I did not wish to tear you from such peace,” Morpheus points out before raising a hand and gently stroking your chin. “Now, before you come up with some other excuse to avoid speaking with me, I shall simply inform you of what has been plaguing my mind these last few weeks.”

You tremble in place, hypnotized by his starry blue gaze that you are more than grateful keeps you from openly gawking at Morpheus’ naked god-like body.

“Okay?” you ask hesitantly, slumping onto your shins.

“I feel for you most ardently, Y/N, and wish to ask permission to court you should you be so willing.” Your brain short-circuits for a few moments as you comprehend what Morpheus has just said. Heart pounding in your chest, you force yourself to remain calm.

“And... you felt the need to tell me this when you are naked?” Morpheus’ lips quirk to the side.

“I believe we have skirted around this topic long enough and the opportunity presented itself.”

“You could have gone back to the Dreaming and gotten changed, or just magicked yourself an outfit,” you point out, your fingers twitching against your bedsheets. It’s getting harder not to look.

“Perhaps, but you were most comfortable and I dared not disturb you.” In essence, he’d returned to human form and let you sleep on his naked body for a good chunk of time. How embarrassing. Clearly, he likes seeing you squirm.

“I should have left you at the shelter,” you gripe at him for teasing you. You receive another smirk as Morpheus teasingly brushes his thumb across your lower lip.

“A lie, surely.”

“Next time you get stuck in cat form? You’re on your own.” You’re all bluster, he knows it. You know it. The entire Dreaming knows it.

Date Published: 7/12/23

Last Edit: 5/28/24

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