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#an unexpected but welcome visitor
foxglovecove · 7 months
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What if Mobius is making his eggs one morning and someone unexpected shows up
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(X)
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navybrat817 · 6 days
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Hold You Tight: Part 1
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Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Chapter Summary: You encounter an unexpected visitor in your home.
Chapter Word Count: Over 2.8k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, breaking and entering, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: Welcome to the Turn It Up AU! Thanks to @starlightcrystalline for helping bringing this unhinged Bucky to life and @targaryenvampireslayer and @tavners for the support. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You yawned as you flipped on the light switch in your apartment and set the keys on the table. It was early, but you were ready to settle in for the night after a busy shift. Maybe you could make a cup of tea and curl up with a book to unwind after dinner. Or maybe even a nice, hot bath and a glass of wine.
If only Addison could hear your thoughts now. She’d tease you for not living it up and enjoying the single life. Nothing new.
Your mouth fell open as you walked into the living room, but no sound came out as you skidded to a stop. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest and plummeted to your stomach at the same time as your phone fell from your hand. It was like you couldn't breathe. Because a man was sitting on your sofa.
And you lived alone.
“What…” you exhaled, no louder than a whisper.
The man didn't speak as he stared at you. He didn't even blink. The staring contest gave you a moment to take in his appearance. Intimidating even though he was sitting, his dark suit looked tailored to perfection on his broad frame. Dark brown hair framed his face and matched the stubble on his face, with the exception of a few gray hairs. The dangerous glint in his hard blue eyes did little to put you at ease, but there was something soft there as well.
In any other circumstance, you would've said he was handsome.
You bent down to pick up your phone before he let out a tsk, a subtle warning for you not to try anything. “Who are you? Why are you in my home?” You asked as you straightened up, hoping your tone didn't betray how terrified you were.
Nothing looked out of place. If he was there to rob you, there wasn't much worth taking. While you weren't struggling, you were far from rich.
He smirked and leaned back further into the cushion, his eyes roving over your body. You hadn't noticed right away, but the hand draped on the back of the sofa appeared to be metal. Or was it a glove? He didn't have to stand for you to know he was larger than you. If things got physical, you wouldn't stand a chance.
“Okay…” If he wasn't going to give you any sort of answer or clue as to who he was or why he was there, you’d just leave. You could go to a neighbor’s place or Addison’s to call the cops. But he didn't seem to like it when you took a step back since he pinned you with a glare and crooked his finger, beckoning you to go to him.
Your legs wobbled with the first step, but you righted yourself as you continued to move forward. If he noticed your misstep, he didn't acknowledge it. You swallowed, worried that bile would rise to your throat from how sick you felt when you stopped in front of him. That feeling only grew when he leaned in to grip your waist and roughly pulled you toward him.
A scream escaped this time around, but his hand clamped over your mouth to smother the sound. The cold fear that trickled down your spine would stick with you for days to come as he pulled you onto his lap and shook his head with another tsk. There was no mistaking the evident lust in his gaze as his eyes bore into yours.
What was he going to do to you?
You put your hands on his shoulders to push yourself away, but the hand on your hip held you tighter. You squirmed in his lap before you brushed against the outline of his cock, your body stiffening when he let out a low groan. With wide eyes, you decided moving wasn't a wise decision.
“Keep moving your hips if you want, but don't scream again,” he warned, his deep voice rumbling from his chest as you breathed through your nose. “There’s time for that later.”
Blood rushed to your ears as your heart pounded faster. You wished you could've stopped the tears from filling your eyes, but you weren't that strong. Was he going to hurt you? Kill you? If so, why?
The brunette cooed as a tear slid down your cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? But I will gag you if I remove my hand and you scream again,” he promised, his tone lighter than a moment ago. “Blink once if you promise not to scream.”
You blinked, another tear falling from your eye.
A pleased look crossed his face when he removed his hand and you complied. “Good girl,” he whispered and you ignored the new kind of shiver that rolled down your spine. “I didn't mean to startle you, but I couldn't wait any longer to see you.”
You exhaled as he used his thumb to wipe the tears away, your body still stiff as you focused on trying to stay calm. Couldn't wait to see you? You had never seen this man before in your life. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“My name is Bucky Barnes. And don't worry. I already know your name.” He smirked as he rested his hand on your cheek. You managed not to flinch at his calloused touch. “Did you have fun at my club?”
Confusion flickered in your gaze. “What?”
“My club, The 107th. I own it. Did you have fun?” He asked again, looking at you expectantly.
The 107th was the most luxurious and expensive nightclub in the city. Chic and glamorous in design with a friendly staff who waited on people hand and foot, you felt like royalty as you hung out in the VIP section. The upscale venue wasn't one you frequented often. In fact, you had only been once.
For Addison’s bachelorette party.
“Y-Yeah,” you replied, still confused as to what he wanted. “It’s a nice club.”
He hummed, his thumb brushing across your trembling lip. “I’m glad to hear it, but you didn't seem to have as much ‘fun’ as your friends. Did you?”
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You nursed your drink as you gazed out at the dancefloor from your seat. The place was packed, the strobe lights flashing over the crowd in various hues as they grinded to the beat. You adjusted the hem of your short black dress as you debated going out to dance. You decided against it since you weren't looking to hook up.
“Come on! Another shot!” Addison yelled, adjusting her tiara on her head. She was lucky the “bride to be” sash was still on straight. “Shot, shot, sh-sh-sh-shot!”
You giggled as she plopped down beside you. “I did a shot. I'm fine,” you hollered back.
Your best friend grumbled something you couldn't make out as she put her head on your shoulder. “But you aren't even driving.”
“I don't want to deal with a hangover tomorrow,” you argued, thanking the server as she brought another bottle.
“Ugh. If you won't drink, at least get laid,” Addison whined a little. “You're wearing a slutty black dress and everything.”
You looked around at the group. Addison was the only one in white since she was the bride. Everyone else wore black. They looked great, but you weren't dressed to get any sort of attention.
“Yeah! Get fucked!” Dana shouted.
“Is that encouragement or an insult?” You teased, glancing at the small blinking light in the corner of the VIP section. You didn't notice it before.
“Raise your hand if you think our girl should get laid!” Addison announced, raising her hand high and spilling some of her drink on the seat. “Whoops.”
The group raised their hands as you attempted to clean up the small mess. “I’m not hooking up with anyone tonight,” you said to their disappointment. “This night isn't about me and my love life.”
“Your love life? Babe, it doesn't exist!” Addison grabbed your left hand and held it up to stare at your bare ring finger. “I don't get it. You're the only one not engaged or married yet. And you're, like, the sweetest one in our group. And you're so pretty! It’s not fair that you don't have a man. You deserve one.”
“And sex!” Dana chimed in. “You deserve lots of sex!”
You gently pulled your hand away and pushed down the sadness that surfaced at the reminder that you were the only single one left of your friends. You didn't know why you hadn't met the right one yet. It wasn't like your standards were too high and you were a good, loyal partner. You wouldn't say you were supermodel gorgeous, but you were pretty. You knew how to have a good time.
Right?
Addison's lip wobbled when she saw the look on your face. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m sorry. I didn't mean anything by it,” she rambled, hugging you from the side. “I just want you to have what Brady and I have. I want someone to love you.”
Guilt crept in before you shook your head and flashed your best smile. You know she wasn't trying to make you feel bad and you didn't want to ruin her night. “And one day, I will. Someone will love me the way Brady loves you and I’ll love him, too,” you assured her, giving the other girls a shrug and wishing they'd stop with the pitying stares. “Shots?”
“Shots!”
Your eyes briefly went back to the blinking light before you put a small smile back on your face. Addison was having fun and that was what mattered. You could worry about yourself and your feelings tomorrow.
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“I’m sorry, but did my friends and I do something wrong?” You asked, dodging his question. You booked and paid for the section well in advance. Your group danced around in the area, and behaved overall and kept to yourselves. The server got a nice tip at the end of the night.
So what was the matter?
“Not at all,” he said, tilting his head. “I’m just sorry I couldn't introduce myself to you that night.”
“I don't understand. You broke into my home just so you could introduce yourself to me?” You asked as he traced small circles on your hips, the motion making your head spin a little. “How do you even know where I live?”
He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, before he got serious again. “I have my ways. And I can be a little intense and forward at times, but you’ll get used to it,” he said, your eyes wide again. What was wrong with this man?
“Okay, Bucky,” you said slowly, seeing something wicked flash in his eyes when you said his name. “Being intense and forward doesn't excuse breaking into my home. And since my friends and I didn't do anything wrong at your club and you formally introduced yourself, I think it's time for you to leave.”
A second passed before he shook his head. “No, doll. It’s time for you to get the love life and man you deserve.”
Fingers brushed your throat as you struggled to take your next breath. “What did you say?”
“I'm going to take you out to dinner tomorrow so you can get to know me and you’re going to wear the dress I bought for you,” he explained as if he didn't hear you, nodding toward the hall. “It’s waiting for you in your bedroom and, yes, it’s your size.”
How did this man have the nerve and how long had he been in your place? “You went into my room? You-”
“And I bought you that perfume you recently ran out of. I know how much you love it. I know everything about you,” he continued, running his nose along your neck as your blood ran cold. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together.”
You moved back, desperate to get away as your stomach twisted. He didn't let you get far, easily yanking you close again. How did he know anything about you? How did you catch his eye?
The blinking light in the corner of the VIP section …
“And if I say no?”
Bucky pulled back, his eyes calculating as he studied you. “I’m not going to force you into going out with me. It’s your choice to say yes or no, but I want you to think carefully about that choice.”
Dread pooled in your gut. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I obviously know where you live and I can get in and out undetected,” he pointed out. You wondered now if this was the first time he had been in your place. “I also know where your friend Addison and her fiancé, Brady, live.”
A wounded sound escaped at the thought of anything happening to your friends. “Please, leave them alone.”
“And the shop you work at, I know where it’s located. Those floral arrangements you make are stunning. Your boss even gave you a raise recently. You should be proud,” he smiled.
Your eyes watered again. The man was certifiably insane. Maybe this was a sick joke or a bad dream. Soon you'd wake up in your bed.
But the iron grip on your body reminded you that this was very real.
He waved a hand dismissively. “But we both know you’ll make the right choice because you're a good girl… a smart girl,” he said like he hadn't just threatened your friends or livelihood. “Just take the night to think it over. Have a glass of wine and draw yourself a nice bath while you do.”
He surprised you by moving you from his lap to the sofa. His hands and eyes lingered on you momentarily before he released you and stood up. Towering over you, he gave you a tender smile as he buttoned his jacket.
“I’m going to lock the door behind me when I leave and I’ll be back tomorrow at 7pm so you can give me your answer. And if you try and tell anyone I was here tonight, I’ll know about it,” he said, grasping your chin when you tried to look away. “It’s taking all of my control not to drag you to bed, but I can wait a little longer.”
Fear prickled the back of your neck as you tensed up. “You couldn't just ask me out like a normal person?”
You almost regretted asking when he narrowed his eyes, but he huffed out a laugh. “Where's the fun in that?” He winked as you shrank back in your seat. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I won't hurt you. And you know what? I just thought of something. You still need a plus one for the wedding. I’m free. I’ll get a suit to match your bridesmaids’ dress. We’ll look perfect together. And Addison will be so happy that you aren't going alone.”
His tone was light and happy like it was a suggestion and not an order, but the ferocity in his gaze had you trembling. “Why are you doing this?” You asked above a whisper.
“Because I want you and I get what I want,” he said as a matter of fact, releasing your chin. “Like I said, it's time for you to get the love you deserve. And I know you'll give it to me in return.”
It was like your spirit floated out of your body as he bent down to kiss your forehead. You couldn't move or speak. Was this what shock felt like? Or was it complete and utter fear?
You stared ahead as he picked up your phone and unlocked it with your passcode. He knew that, too? “Can’t leave without giving you my phone number,” he smiled, putting his information in before he set the device down. You didn't respond. Once he was gone you could scream and cry. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking down in front of him. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, 7pm. Get some rest. You'll need it.”
Even as he left you alone and locked the door behind him as promised, you didn't move from your spot as tears streamed down your cheeks. You didn't dare go to your bedroom to see the gifts he left for you, your hand shaking as you wiped at your face. The scent of his cologne lingered, as did his touch. It was like his shadow covered you, leaving you cold and afraid. Your home was no longer safe.
You weren't safe.
With his subtle threat looming over your head, you’d have no choice but to go out with him. Maybe he’d get bored of you quickly and move on. Or maybe not. You had no way of knowing. All you knew was that your average life was upheaved by the owner of The 107th.
And you were going to be his girl whether you liked it or not.
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Bucky isn't wasting time. Where is he taking you on your first date? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month
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🪡The Obvious String
*part of the reverse trope series*
Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?
*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
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Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 
Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 
Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 
So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 
And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)
His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 
“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 
Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 
Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 
The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 
Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 
Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 
The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 
“We?” 
Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 
When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 
His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 
Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 
Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 
The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 
“And why are the two of you here?” 
Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 
“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 
“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”
Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 
“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 
Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 
“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 
“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”
A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 
Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 
The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 
The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 
All he got was a glare back. 
“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 
Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 
“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 
It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 
“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 
“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 
The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 
Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 
The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 
“But George.” 
Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 
“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 
The group of four winced at the memory. 
Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 
Lewis looked a bit pale. 
“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 
Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 
Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  
Lando ran a hand down his face. 
“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 
George cocked his head. 
“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 
Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 
George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 
Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 
A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 
When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 
“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”
Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 
Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 
“Yes! Do you?” 
The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 
“No.” 
The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 
“Why would you do that!” 
Now Lewis was the one whining. 
“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 
The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 
“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 
“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 
All eyes landed on Oscar. 
The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 
Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  
An audible gulp was heard. 
Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”
Everyone looked a little lost. 
“Aha!” 
The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 
“What!” 
He held his phone up with a contact showing. 
“We call Seb.” 
“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 
For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 
“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 
A sigh was heard through the speaker. 
“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 
Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 
“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 
Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 
Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 
Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 
“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 
Their silence had answered for them. 
Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 
“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 
“Hey!” 
It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 
“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 
“What!” Pierre yelled. 
“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 
“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 
“Ask them what?” 
The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 
“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 
Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 
He took a sip of his Red Bull. 
Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 
“Hey!” 
Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 
“Thank you Charles.” 
The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 
“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 
The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 
Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 
“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 
The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 
Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 
“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 
Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 
“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 
Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 
“Thank you schatje.” 
This time, a whine came from you. 
“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 
Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 
“WHAT?” 
You turned back to the group. 
“Are you all fine?” 
Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 
The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 
Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”
Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 
Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 
Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 
“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 
It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 
A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 
Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 
“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 
You nodded. “Yes.” 
Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 
The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 
“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 
Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”
A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 
“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 
Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 
Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 
The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 
“You won’t tell anyone right?” 
Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 
Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 
Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 
Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 
Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 
Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 
“Then . . . who knows?” 
Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 
“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 
You pulled out his fingers and counted.  
“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 
Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 
Max smirked. 
“Oh, and Seb.” 
There was silence amongst the group. 
“Oh he is so dead.” 
“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 
“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 
“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 
“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 
“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 
“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 
You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 
You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 
Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 
“Nah.” 
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TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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lilsmv1 · 2 months
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orange cat - OP81
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Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?
Word count: 1k
London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.
For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.
At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."
Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.
But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.
Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.
"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."
I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.
"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.
"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.
From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.
As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.
Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.
But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.
One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.
A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.
Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.
One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.
"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."
"I'm not" I replied defensively.
"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.
I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.
"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."
For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.
"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed
"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.
"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."
"Oh..."
"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.
And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.
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mojogojocasahouse · 5 days
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unexpected visitor
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jiyan x f!reader
Jiyan sneaks home to your bed in desperate need of a soft touch and sleep
c: NSFW 18+ only, smut, oral f-receiving, creampie, tacet marks are sensitive I don't make the rules, not beta'd
He slips in like a whisper, an unexpected secret cradled by the black of night. At first, you mistake him for the rustling of a rabbit outside the window and a burst of wind swirling beneath the clear moon, but then there was the clanking of metal buckles and the rustling of heavy robes falling to the floor. There was only one source of those sounds.
Jiyan.
Two weeks had passed since he’d left, and according to him, he was supposed to have been gone for much longer. Now, the mattress is dipping as he falls into bed behind you, a strong, warm arm circling your middle and pulling you flush against a broad, muscled chest, lips pressing to the curve of your neck.
“You’re home early,” you whisper, reaching back and threading your fingers through long, teal hair.
“Only for tonight,” he sighs, nuzzling his nose to the hollow behind your ear, “No one knows I’m away. I’ll have to leave before first light.”
“And what will you tell them?” you ask with a mischievous lilt.
“That I needed to sleep.”
Those words have you turning, his piercing gold eyes meeting yours and pleading for what only you can give him. He’s always said he can only sleep here, in the sanctuary of your bed. He doesn’t even have a home of his own anymore, it’s a tent on the front lines or this small cottage in the village. He has little in the way of belongings, but he leaves hints of himself around that you find and smile fondly at. Though nothing compares to the sight of him basking in white light, gazing at you as if you hung those very stars in the sky.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you soothe, brushing his bangs from his eyes. You already know the answer, but still, you ask every time in case he changes his mind.
“No.” It’s a polite but curt response, “You need not hear of the troubles of war.”
“But you’re troubles–”
“Are mine to bear.”
That will be the end of that discussion, as it always is. With a sigh, you cup the back of his head and pull him in, his lips so gentle and cautious as you welcome him home even if it is only for a moment. It’s your tongue that asks for entrance first, sliding along his bottom lip slowly, and he opens with a sigh. Large hands pull you in closer, your leg winding around his waist and you can feel his erection pressing against your thinly clothed slit. He’s opted to sleep with nothing on, as usual, and you curse the thin shorts you’d decided to wear. The grip he has on your side is hard enough to bruise, and you hope he has every intention of making sure you feel him tomorrow when you wake up in the bed alone almost as if he’d never come. Like this was all a fever dream. You’re still not sure if it is.
The tips of your fingers gently trace the Tacet Mark on his upper spine, his breath hitching as he flips you to your back. He kisses you like a man starved, nipping and licking into your mouth with greed and gluttony, his hips pulsing into your damp center as he slowly begins to lose that steadfast composure he holds so dear. You want him to lose it, too. He deserves to take for once, and you’ll let him bleed you dry.
As your teeth bite down onto his lower lip, he groans, taking one last parting peck before sliding down your body. The shirt you’re wearing is torn down the middle, and he latches onto one of your stiffened buds, his hands moving to cradle your other breast as if he hasn’t touched anything soft in weeks. His touch is so reverent and desperate that you’re whimpering as his tongue swirls and lips purse, your hands tangled in his locks as he descends lower, pecking a trail down your stomach until he’s pulling your shorts and panties off in one quick tug. 
Mingling moans echo off the walls as he locks onto your clit, your back arching off the bed as he suckles hard, worrying it between his lips before lapping at your soaked slit. You know you’re soaked, your inner thighs wet with what has already leaked free, and he takes it upon himself to not miss a single drop. As he’s tasting the sweetness sticking to your legs, you spread them further, inviting him back to bury his tongue in your cunt. And he does, happily, pulling you so tightly down onto his face you’re not sure he can breathe.
Muffled grunts and hums of bliss rumble deep in his throat, the vibration enough to have you keening in his hold. His talented mouth alternates between teasing your swollen bundle of nerves and enjoying the nectars of his labor, his face smeared and glistening every time he comes up for air. You want more, but you don’t dare stop him. If this is what he needs, this is what he can have, all you can do is scrape your nails soothingly against his scalp and try to quiet the roiling storm building in your belly. 
He’s waiting for you to come, you know that, but still, you try and stop the balloon threatening to burst. The sooner this is the over the sooner he’s gone again. And while you feign bravery and understanding of his long, frequent absences, deep down it breaks you every day to walk around town and see the couples together doing mundane tasks. They’re shopping, enjoying a meal, laughing and walking, and you’re…alone. You sacrifice the one you love so they can have this life, and while you’ve come to peace with this, no part of you has convinced you that you have to like it.
When he adds a finger, then two, you’re pulling his mouth back to your core by his hair, his smile stretched across your skin as the tip of his tongue prods so skillfully.
“That’s it,” he praises, “That’s what I want. Let me have it, baby.”
All he ever has to do is ask. Your orgasm washes over you gently like the waves on the shore, nowhere near as explosive as you’d been expecting, but you assume that was his intention. He knew you well enough to have discovered which of his ministrations caused which reaction and now he was almost tactile. It’s a little unfair.
No time is wasted, you’ve barely registered the end of your descent into the clouds and you can feel the soft head of his cock pushing into your cunt, your slippery walls giving no resistance as he bottoms out. He gives you a moment to adjust, taking advantage of your parted, panting lips to drag you into a messy kiss you can taste yourself on. You’ve missed the way he feels stuffed inside of you, bullying its way into a space too tight to accommodate his length and girth, but the burn subsides quickly and you let him know with a quick roll of your hips to urge him on.
The course hairs at his base are already soaked with your arousal as he begins to snap his hips into yours, the sound of skin slapping and breathy moans like a forbidden song drifting off into the night. His forehead is pressed to yours, the only air you can breathe is each other’s, and he entwines his fingers with yours and pins your hands to either side of your head, opening you up to his new, brutal pace. He can’t help himself, he’s long gone, drowning in the way your pussy clamps down around him every time he lets a whine slip out. You’d think he’d have learned by now and let his blissed sounds free, but he hasn’t. Maybe he never will.
“Jiyan,” you mewl, gripping him so tightly your knuckles turn white, “harder.”
It’s like something snaps, with a groan, he pushes himself up to sit on his knees, his hands claiming your waist as his hips begin to piston so hard his hold is the only thing keeping you in place. Your tits bouncing wildly hold his gaze as you cry out loud enough for anyone in the surrounding area to hear.
“Touch yourself,” he commands, regret in his voice because he can’t do it himself, “Come on my cock.”
Your two middle fingers dive to rub frantic circles on your clit, but you’re unable to focus as you dip your touch down to feel where he’s mercilessly thrusting into your hole. You can feel how stretched you are, how swollen, you’re moments away from release.
“Come with me,” you beg, your nails scraping down the firm dips and swells of his stomach, “Come with me, please.”
He looks wrecked as he lets himself lose control. His head falls back, his hair splaying across his shoulders, long enough to have the ends dancing over your skin. The way he glistens with sweat makes him look damn near ethereal, with green markings accentuating his clenched jaw as he tries to draw out what he knows is coming to an end. 
The molten pleasure boiling in your belly finally spills over, running through your veins until every muscle is tensed in anticipation and then released with a shrieking cry, his feral snarl joining you as he spurts hot, thick ropes of cum into your cunt. 
It’s a moment of stillness as you both catch your breath, his grip loosening as he fucks his seed deeper, enjoying how easily his softening cock slips through your channel. You’re so sensitive it almost hurts, but you’re not ready to lose the weight and stretch of him inside of you just yet.
“You need to sleep, my love,” you coo as he pulls out, immediately walking off to get a warm cloth to clean you with.
“Mm,” he hums, wiping what’s leaking from your fucked out hole, “In a moment.”
When he curls up behind you, there’s no stopping how you turn and bury yourself in his chest. It’ll be harder this way when he has to leave, but you haven’t heard the steady beating of his heart in too long. He chuckles as he wraps you up tightly, tucking your head beneath his chin, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your bruised hip. 
It’ll be just a few hours, and as much as you want to stay awake and relish in this rare time, you can’t. Sleep finds you easily swaddled in his arms, the faint arid, earthy smell of him the most comforting scent. When you wake, you’re alone, not that you expected anything different. However, one thing that wasn’t there the night before catches your eye–a single Pecok flower in a vase.
A promise to return home.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 7 months
Text
Practice On Me — Part Eleven — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Reader receives a much-needed pep talk in Velaris and gets thinking. Azriel receives a lecture in Windhaven by a frustrated Rhysand. Reader is surprised by an unexpected visitor to the City of Starlight.
Word count:
Warnings: A little bit of smut, 18+, minors dni.
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Velaris feels like an entire world away from Windhaven.
You’ve been here only once before, when, as mischievous fourteen-year-olds, Rhysand had brought you. The High Lord had been in another court on business, which had seemed like the perfect time for Rhys to show you his other home. Only, his father had returned early, and had thundered — hard enough to shake the mountains — about strangers entering the shielded city without formal invitation. Not you, nor Cassian, nor Azriel, had been back since.
And that lingering encounter was why, when Roza brought you here three days earlier, you’d been nervous about coming face-to-face with the High Lord yet again.
But the handsome, roguish male had merely given you a long, slow perusal, and then smiled a charming smile — about the only thing Rhys seems to have inherited from him — and welcomed you to his home for as long as you do so please.
It’s tranquil, there’s no doubt about that. Light and airy and so beautiful that you can forget, for a time, that there’s a world outside the City of Starlight. You’ve spent the last three days at Roza’s side, exploring the city and helping her run light errands, and attending to her at the end of the day when the pregnancy tires her out.
The High Lord — Finadar, or Fin, as you’ve learned most people call him — does no such thing. He does not visit his pregnant mate after long, tiring days. Does not summon her.
Despite the growing new arrival in her belly, there’s a distinct lack of love between the two of them that surprises you, perhaps more than anything else.
But tonight, with Roza joining him for a public appearance, you’re left alone with your thoughts for the first time in three days. And you’re desperate to do anything to fight them off.
You wander the long, spacious halls of the High Lord’s opulent home, warm, despite the brutal mountain range that stands guard around it. This is a level of luxury you were never built for, and don’t quite know what to do with. You read from Roza’s broad selection of literature, and gorge on sweets in the kitchen, and slide along the polished floors on your socks, because why the fuck not.
It’s better than thinking. Anything is better than thinking.
But as the night wears on and the silence gets too loud, it’s hard to keep deeper thoughts at bay. Your heart aches relentlessly over the broken shards of your loving friendship group that you don’t know how to glue back together. Your mind swoons longingly over old memories, old smiles. You’re a hollow vessel of complications, and regrets, and excruciating love—
“I heard you were here.” A trilling voice echoes from the far end of the hall you’re traversing.
You turn, and you think you might choke out a strangled noise of relief at the sight of shimmering, golden curls and warm, brown eyes, huge like a doe’s.
Mor looks far better than the last time you saw her, that’s for sure. She’s always radiant, no matter what she has going on, but the sun-kissed glimmer has returned to her skin, and the gaunt fragility from her hardships has been snuffed out by delicious, enviable curves.
You’re in front of her in what feels like a few great strides, and she’s cupping your face in her hands and kissing both of your cheeks.
“I’ve missed you.” You breathe, realising, in that moment, just how much you have. She doesn’t spend as much time in Windhaven as she used to, and gods, the absence of a sincere female friend is a weighty one.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Concern fills her eyes as she studies you.
“Rhys, Az and Cass aren’t here. It’s just me—”
“I know.” She links her arm through yours. “And let’s be glad of it. I’ve had enough of males to last me a damn eternity.” She’s barely taken a few steps forward before she’s stopping and studying you again. “Roza tells me you’re having a hard time.”
Just like that, you feel yourself begin to crumble. There’s something about the concern of others that utterly obliterates the walls you try to craft around yourself.
And at the first glimpse of tears filling your eyes, Mor is tugging you along again.
“Come.” She says. “I know where the High Lord keeps his stash of booze.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
“You don’t ever come to Windhaven anymore. Why is that?”
There’s the slightest tensing in the set of Mor’s shoulders as she returns the stopper to a decanter containing dark amber liquid. She turns, handing you a glass.
“I figured you knew.” She says. “My father is being strict about me not spending time there.”
On some level, you think you did know. It’s not hard to figure it out.
For a time, Mor was a pretty frequent member of your friendship group, visiting as often as she could — until a few years ago, when a fight broke out between Cassian and Rhys, and then Mor just stopped coming around. The matter was swept under the rug and not mentioned again. But with her father being so strict—
“Ah.” You murmur, the pieces clicking into place. “Cass, huh?”
Mor snorts softly. “Yes. Cass.” She shakes her head fondly. “Before you ask, no, I don’t have feelings for him. Not like that. It was just…a choice I made for myself. And I’ve never regretted it, even if my father is determined to make my life hell because of it. But I didn’t come here to talk about me.” Her eyes rake over you. “Tell me everything.”
So, you do. The words come spilling out of you in a flurry of shame and heartache. You tell her every damn detail and spare none. And when you’re finally done, you take a breath and wonder — not for the first time — how the fuck you’ve managed to create this situation for yourself.
Mor frowns at you. “I—” She seems genuinely speechless. “Cauldron, I thought my situation was complicated.”
You shake your head. “I’ve made such a mess of things, Mor.”
“Why haven’t you told Azriel how you feel?”
“I wanted to. Gods, I planned to. But I supposed walking in on him and Kaeda made me realise that there’s no point.”
“First of all, that’s bullshit.” She takes a seat opposite you. “Love is one of very few things that there is always a point to. Your self-loathing my try to convince you otherwise, but it’s always better to be honest and face whatever outcome than suffer in silence and wonder what would have been.”
You open your mouth, but she’s holding up a hand.
“Secondly, I don’t like the sound of this Kaeda one bit. I know almost nothing about Fenlaros, but what I do know is that she must have some sort of backing — not just that of her Camp Lord father — that gives her the ability to flounce in and out of a rival camp at her leisure without a single consequence. And that tells me she’s up to something. And that makes me nervous that it’s Azriel, of all people, that she’s attached herself to. Not that Az isn’t a total catch — of course, he is. But he’s also a very, very rare gift who always has sights set on him. I’d wager that that plays into Kaeda’s interest somewhere.”
You fall still in your seat, staring back at her.
You feel damn stupid for not seeing what she’s laid out before you with such clarity.
“You…don’t believe Kaeda’s interest in Az is genuine?” You ask. “I wondered why she was hanging around Windhaven, but I didn’t think…”
“I think she has ulterior motives.” Mor shrugs. “And if Az is in a blinding haze of lust — or even love — it’s not something he’s going to see for himself. He’ll need proof.”
“How could I possibly give him proof of something I’m not even certain about myself?”
“Perhaps you should play Kaeda at her own game. Do some sniffing around her and see what you find out. You’d only be looking out for Az, after all.”
Would you, though? You can’t deny that your feelings, your jealousy, would play a part. You should want, for Azriel’s sake, Kaeda to be genuine, whether your heart would get broken or not. But what you truly want is to show Az that—
That you’re better for him than she ever would be.
You want nothing more from or for him, than to make him happy.
You drag your lower lip between your teeth in thought. “What if it blew up in my face, though? I could just…end up making Az even more mad at me than he already is.”
“Which brings me to my third point. Why are you allowing Az to act like you’ve done anything wrong?”
“I slept with Cassian…”
“Welcome to the club. Tell me, Y/N. are you tied down to anyone?”
“Well, no—”
“Did you and Az agree to only have sexual relations with each other?”
“No—”
“Have you ever sworn off exploring such things with your other friends?”
“No, Mor.”
“Then Azriel has no right to be freezing you out the way he is. Is it messy? Yes. Have you created some tricky drama for yourself? Also yes. But he’s a damn hypocrite if he’s chastising you in one breath and jumping into bed with Kaeda in another.”
“That’s the thing, though.” Your gaze lowers to the table. “He says he hasn’t done anything with Kaeda, and I don’t think he would lie about that. I think…had I slept with anyone outside of our circle, perhaps he wouldn’t have cared. But it being Cassian is just…a bit too close to home for him. Especially given that Az and I were doing things, too.”
The gorgeous blonde rolls her eyes. “So, it’s an ego thing. Give me a break. If he didn’t want you to sleep with anybody else, he should have communicated that. You both should have communicated better.” A soft sigh leaves her. “Listen…Az will sulk for a little while, because that’s just what males do. He clearly has things he needs to work through, and when he has, you should talk. But in the meantime, perhaps you should try to find some more out about Kaeda and her intentions — for no other reason than that Azriel is your closest friend and you’re looking out for him. Perhaps being in Velaris is a blessing in disguise — I’m sure the High Lord could tell you a thing or two about the Fenlaros lot, if you ask nicely.”
So wise, so brilliant, is Mor. A female with such a good head on her shoulders, despite an environment that tries to wreck her.
She just…rationalises things, in a way that you’re not able to. And you hadn’t even considered talking to the High Lord.
You take a slow, pensive draw from your glass as you think on it. And then you’re deciding, “Perhaps I will speak with the High Lord. There’s nothing wrong with showing an interest in a rival camp, after all.”
“No.” Mor flashes a feral grin. “There is not.”
Perhaps it’s selfish, something felt at Azriel’s expense — but setting yourself a little task like this is precisely what you need.
You’ve wondered for a while what the hell Kaeda is doing in Windhaven. You’re determined to find out, one way or another.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Rhysand is balls deep and utterly lost in the male beneath him.
The noises that fill the room are sinful.
Midnight-kissed moans and panting as breathy and ethereal as a winter-chilled breeze.
This has been a long time coming, and Rhys is just so glad, in that moment, that he finally gets to be inside Zakai, that he thrusts deep and captures him in a full kiss. Zakai growls and grabs his ass, encouraging those thrusts.
Honestly? Rhys fucking needs this pleasure. Never did he think he’d actually be glad to get away to his room at the dormitories, but he needs a godsdamned break. Cassian’s sulking at the cottage has become unbearable since Roza swept Y/N off to Velaris.
If Cass and Az don’t sort their shit out soon, Rhys might just launch them off the peak of the nearest mountain.
Of course, they’d probably fight each other suspended in thin air, instead.
But he banishes those thoughts and gives himself entirely to Zakai, reaching down to fist at the pretty male’s cock. Neither of them will last long. This sex has been too highly anticipated, and it feels too good, and—
And the door is practically kicked in behind them. Azriel strides in as if it’s his fucking room.
“Get out, Az.” Rhys snarls, not faltering.
Az does not, in fact, get out. “Is it true Roza has taken Y/N to Ve—”
“For fuck’s sake.” He pulls out of Zakai with complete reluctance, grabbing clothes to cover them both. Zakai exhales a long sigh and tips his head back.
“Well?” Az demands. “Is it true?”
Rhys yanks some undershorts on. “Three days ago. You’d have found out sooner if you’d just quit your sulking and talk to us.”
“Why has she gone there?”
Zakai clears his throat, awkwardly shucking his clothes on. “Perhaps I should go…”
“No.” Rhys says.
But Az counters it with a dismissive, “Yes.”
The poor male stares between the two of them, and while he may have just been lying beneath the future High Lord, he doesn’t feel like getting in the way of a temperamental shadowsinger.
Rhys releases a yielding breath and grits his teeth. “Fine. I’ll catch up with you later, Zak.”
That’s all it takes for his pretty lover to leave, sex now a distant memory. Azriel shuts the door behind him.
“So?” He rounds on Rhys. “Why is Y/N in Velaris?”
Rhys rolls his eyes at his tone. It’s not exactly any use for Az to be frantic now. Bit too late for that, he thinks.
“Because she needed a break from this place. From you and Cass and Kaeda.”
“I told Y/N that Kaeda and I have not done anything.”
“And maybe you haven’t, Azriel. That’s your business entirely.” He throws himself onto the bed. “But have you stopped for five fucking seconds, amidst your brooding and self-pitying, to consider how it might have made Y/N feel to be the practice run?”
Azriel goes preternaturally still. Doesn’t know what to say.
And that’s fine, Rhys reckons, because he’s nowhere near fucking finished.
“You explored that intimacy with her under the pretence that you were merely refining those skills for another female’s benefit.” He continues. “Whether it was initially Y/N’s idea or not, you should have recognised right away that she deserves better than that. And then you had the absolute fucking audacity to get mad at her for sleeping with Cassian, at the same time she would naturally assume you were sleeping with Kaeda, when you actually have no right to be angry. So what if she slept with Cass? So what, Azriel, that she fell into the arms of somebody who actually made her feel chosen, and not like she was just a stepping stone to a greater pleasure?”
Silence.
Stunned, heavy silence.
This room is far too small for such strong, impassioned words. They hang threateningly in the air, and Azriel feels like he’s watching them fly towards him in slow motion like poison arrows closing in on their target.
And then the shadowsinger croaks, finally, “It’s not—like that. I never wanted it to be like that.”
Rhys shrugs. “I’m not sure you even know what you intended, Az. The whole thing is one big mess. I mean…why haven’t you had sex with Kaeda, if that’s what you were practicing for? Do you even like her?”
Az says nothing.
The lack of an answer is precisely what Rhys is expecting. Even makes his lips kick up into a smile.
He thinks he’s pretty damn wise, does Rhysand.
“I’ll wager,” he goes on, eyeing Az knowingly, “that the practice wasn’t about Kaeda at all. Perhaps it was, the very first time Y/N offered.” He rests his hands behind his head. “But then something happened between the two of you — perhaps a kiss, maybe even some touching, and you were struck down by a realisation that the rest of us saw coming years ago. That what exists between you and Y/N goes beyond friendship. What you have is something special. And getting a little taster of that under the ruse of practice sent you on a downward spiral. So many emotions. So much angst. Suddenly, you were acting irrationally, getting into fights. Not over Kaeda, no, but over Y/N. Seeing her with other males makes you feel sick to your stomach. And that is why you’re so angry with Cassian. Because he had sex with Y/N, and you want her, not Kaeda. You love her.”
Well.
Azriel may as well be standing there stark naked, for all Rhys has stripped him bare.
He feels like his skin has been peeled from his bones and a patchwork of ugly truths lies in its place. He wouldn’t be overly surprised to glance down and see writing covering every inch of his body in bold, alarming ink that reads: I AM IN LOVE WITH Y/N. I AM JEALOUS AND ARROGANT AND SELFISH. I AM SCARED.
He tries to swallow down the lump in his throat. It doesn’t budge. “I never meant to make her feel like that.” He damn near wheezes, the words punching their way out of his lungs.
Rhys softens a little. “We know that, Az. But as long as you try to run from your feelings, you’ll be kicking dirt up at the people behind you.”
“I don’t…don’t know what to do — about anything.”
“You just need to stop trying to fool yourself. You need to make use of your space from Y/N and figure out what, exactly, it is you want, and what, exactly, you’re going to do about it. You need to accept that mistakes have been made all round, but not one of them is unable to be fixed. And you should start by mending things with Cassian.”
On instinct, Az scowls. He may know Rhys is right — and damn him for it, too — but he still can’t help being angry at Cass. The thought of his hands on Y/N—
“Wipe that look off your face, Azriel.” Rhys says drily. “You both know you miss each other, and you’re just as miserable as one another because of it. I’m not saying you should fix it today or even tomorrow — take your time to brood, if you like — but something has to give eventually. And if you won’t fix things for your sakes, do it for mine. Perhaps then I’ll be able to fuck Zakai and actually finish.”
This — these glimmers of wisdom and authority and reason — are like a little window into what Rhysand will one day be like as High Lord of the Night Court.
Azriel is glad of his friendship, his counsel. Even if he’s not quite ready to act on the advice yet.
“It’ll all be alright, Az.” Rhys says, studying him. The shadowsinger looks…lost. “But you should take the time to work things out before Y/N returns to Windhaven. She doesn’t need any more drama, and neither do you.”
Right again, of course.
Az can only manage to clear his throat and nod, before rasping out a quiet, “I will. Thank you.”
Rhys dips his chin. “I do love you, you know. I wouldn’t put sex aside for a conversation with just anyone.”
His answering smile is unconvincing. “I love you, too.”
“And you love Cass. So don’t wait too long to talk to him.”
Azriel inclines his chin. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“I’ll forgive you this time.”
The shadowsinger shoots him one last look that says far more than he can articulate in that moment. And then he’s slipping out of the room.
And as he walks away, he can’t stop his thoughts from venturing to Fenlaros.
To how lost he would be without Rhys — and Cass, too — if he really did leave them behind.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Roza is so godsdamned beautiful.
You can’t help feeling a little awestruck as you stand behind her, gently combing a brush through her night-black hair.
She stares into the mirror of her dressing table, her face a sheet of serene beauty. Through her nightgown, the swell of her bump shows proudly.
She seems pensive tonight, quieter than usual. Every few seconds, your gaze creeps to her reflection. Curiosity gets the better of you.
“Can I ask you something?” You part the strands of her hair, beginning to tie them into a braid.
Roza’s eyes lift to yours. “Of course, my love.”
It takes you a long moment to work out how, exactly, to diplomatically word what you’re thinking. You imagine it might be a touchy subject.
“…You and the High Lord….” You chew the inside of your cheek. “You’re not…not quite what I expected — together, I mean.”
You’ve never seen a mating bond up close, but you’ve read about them enough to know that they should be intense, passionate, a love that is so altering that it’s almost gut-wrenching. You expected to catch a glimpse of that with Roza and Finadar, to see a bond that you may never have the honour of experiencing yourself, for how rare it supposedly is.
What you didn’t expect was the huge distance that exists between them. Not a single person could miss it.
There’s no desperation to see each other, be in one another’s company. They sleep in their own quarters of the house and only seem to come together for public appearances. The whole thing is…bizarre.
Roza smiles wryly at you in the mirror. “You mean, you didn’t expect the High Lord and I to be as separated as we are?”
“I just figured…with a mating bond…”
“A lot of weight is placed on a mating bond, little dove.” She swivels on the stool to face you properly. “I had the same thought as you, when I was younger. Fin and I tried to love one another, but…the fact of the matter is that mating bonds aren’t always right. He and I are so different, and sometimes that can be a beautiful thing. But in our case, it certainly is not.”
Your eyes fall down to her bump. “But the babe…”
“This babe was conceived on a heat-of-the-moment, impulsive whim that shouldn’t have happened. Not that I regret it.” Her hand strokes over her bump. “But sex and love are two very different things. Fin and I do not love each other. I’m only in Velaris because he only trusts his healer to see me through this pregnancy. We are mates in the loosest definition, but we are not committed to each other. And he has no problem reminding me of that, with all the females he invites to his bed as though I’m not in the same damn house as him. He’s an arrogant, salacious lech — but he’s also the father of my children, and my High Lord, too. So I choose not to confront it, because I don’t care enough to. The babe and I will be back in Windhaven soon enough.”
It makes your heart ache, makes you feel sick, to think that Roza is on the receiving end of such treatment. She deserves better. Deserves the world. Someone who will worship her like the goddess she damn well is.
It terrifies you to think that…that you could just as easily find yourself trapped in such a dire situation.
“What worries you?” Her violet eyes are soft, warm, as she reaches up and presses a hand to your cheek.
You place the hairbrush down, leaning against the dressing table. Your hand finds hers with a sad desperation. “Is love doomed, Roza? Is it real? If a mating bond can’t hold up, what hope do I have—”
“You have all the hope, dove. And as you should. You will love, and you will be loved. You just need to have the courage to face it and all that it comes with. Fin and I are a bad match. But there’s no reason to believe you’ll see the same fate. So just…don’t give up. Be brave and love.”
Tears blur your eyes as you stare down at her. You can’t stop yourself from moving your joined hands, both yours and hers, to rest on her bump. “This babe is the luckiest child in the entire world to have you for their mother.” You whisper. “And I will be honoured, Roza, to help you in any way I can when they’re born.”
She lifts your hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the back of your palm. “And I will be honoured to have you by my side.” She cracks a smile. “Perhaps you can start with making me some ginger tea before bed.”
A soft, breathy laugh leaves you. “Of course.”
Her beautiful smile follows you out of the room and into the dark, empty hallways. You feel strangely at peace tonight, more so than you have for a long while. Most likely thanks to Mor’s pep talk.
But after you’re done in the kitchen, a steaming cup of ginger tea clutched in your hands, a pair of booming male voices reach you from the antechamber. It piques your interest at once.
One voice is certainly that of the High Lord, but the other sounds somewhat familiar, too — like it’s one you’ve heard before, but not enough to place who it belongs to. It’s a dangerous, gruff baritone of a voice that seems almost impossibly deep.
You should mind your business, walk away…but it seems strange for the High Lord to receive a guest so late at night. Seems…clandestine, in nature.
And so you stay light on your feet, inching towards the door and peering through to the giant, opulent antechamber.
And that’s when you see the High Lord leading Tathaln Baralas, Kaeda’s father, in the direction of his study.
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az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes
964 notes · View notes
pandorxxx · 1 year
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My Masterlist
🫐- Smut 🪬- Fluff 🧿- Angst
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🫐/🪬Hard to get - 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.
🪬 See you later
🫐Never existed
🫐 Now you’re stuck
🫐Unless you’re willing to risk it
🫐 You relaxed now?
🫐Say you love me
🫐 Who’s side are you on?
🫐 Wrong kind of training . Part 2
🫐Uninteresting . Treat me like I’m yours
🫐 To-do list
🫐Tug of war
🫐Something’s different
🫐 Tamed
🫐 Star of my movie
🫐 In tune
🫐 My ballerina
🫐 A dream come true
🫐 Opposites Attract
🫐 You’ve got me
🫐 You’ll be back
🫐 Hard to please . Part 2
🫐 Damsel . Part 2
🫐 Another man’s treasure
🫐 Playmate
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🪬I’ve got your back
🫐 What now?
🫐You asked for it
🫐 Don’t take too long
🫐 Tell him
🫐 Lurkin’
🫐 Return to sender
🫐 Sleeping beauty
🫐 Just alittle taste
🫐 The quiet game
🫐 Crazy about you . Part 2
🫐 Sing for me
🫐Private dance
🫐/🧿Search & Rescue . Part 2 . Part 3
🫐 Treat me (build-a-fic)
🫐 Sweet mind of yours
🫐 Matchmaker
🫐 Slumber party
🫐 A fatal attraction
🫐 A warm welcome
🫐 An Unexpected Visitor . Part 2
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🪬 Let’s enjoy this moment
🫐 Same page
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🫐 Obsession
🫐Princess treatment
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🫐 Both . Part 2 . Part 3 . Part 4
🫐 Enjoy the show
🫐 Fetch
🫐 Break me (coming soon)
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Sully brothers & ao’nung - In the ways that matter. The mess we made
🫐 Jake & sully brothers - Watch and learn
🫐Lo’ak and Tsireya - My favorite besties
🫐Tonowari, ao’nung, jake & sully brothers - Safe with us part 1 . How it’s done (safe with us part 2)
Tags: @lovekeeho
3K notes · View notes
vivmaek · 3 months
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POETRY FOR YOUR MOON SIGN
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✰ my masterlist poems written by someone who has the same moon sign as you <3
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☾PISCES☽
Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream Within a Dream
“Take this kiss upon the brow! / And, in parting from you now, / Thus much let me avow – / You are not wrong, who deem / That my days have been a dream; / Yet if hope has flown away / In a night, or in a day, / In a vision, or in none, / Is it therefore the less gone? / All that we see or seem / Is but a dream within a dream.”
June Jordan, You Came with Shells
“You came with shells. And left them: / shells. / They lay beautiful on the table. / Now they lie on my desk / peculiar / extraordinary under 60 watts.”
Toni Morrison, It Comes Unadorned
“it comes / Unadorned / Like a phrase / Strong enough to cast a spell; / It comes / Unbidden, / Like the turn of sun through hills / Or stars in wheels of song. / The jeweled feet of women dance the earth. / Arousing it to spring. / Shoulders broad as a road bend to share the weight of years. / Profiles breach the distance and lean / Toward an ordinary kiss. / Bliss. / it comes naked into the world like a charm.”
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☾AQUARIUS☽
W.B Yeats, A Coat
“I made my song a coat / Covered with embroideries / Out of old mythologies / From heel to throat; / But the fools caught it, / Wore it in the world’s eyes / As though they’d wrought it. / Song, let them take it / For there’s more enterprise / In walking naked.”
W.B Yeats, The Lover Tells of the Roses in His Heart
“All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old, / The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, / The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould, / Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart. / The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told; I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart, / With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made, like a casket of gold / For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.”
Louisa May Alcott, The Lay of a Golden Goose
“Oh! Be not rash,” her father said, / A mild Socratic bird; / Her mother begged her not to stray / With many a warning word. / But little goosey was perverse / And eagerly did cry, / “I’ve got a lovely pair of wings, / Of course I Ought to fly.”
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☾CAPRICORN☽
John Milton, Sonnet 19
“When I consider how my light is spent, / Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, / And that one talent which is death to hide / Lodged with me useless, through my soul more bent / To serve therewith my Maker,”
Jala al-Din Rumi, The Guest House
“This being human is a guest house. / Every morning a new arrival. / A joy, a depression, a meanness, / some momentary awareness comes / As an unexpected visitor. / Welcome and entertain them all! / Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, / who violently sweep your house / empty of its furniture, / still treat each guest honorably. / He may be clearing you out / for some new delight. / The dark thought, the shame, the malice, / meet them at the door laughing, / and invite them in. / Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent / as a guide from beyond.”
Gwendolyn Brooks, a song in the front yard
“I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life. / I want a peek at the back / Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed / grows. / A girl gets sick of a rose.”
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☾SAGITTARIUS☽
Lewis Carroll, A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky
“In a Wonderland they lie, / Dreaming as the days go by, / Dreaming as the summers die: / Ever drifting down the stream – / Lingering in the golden gleam – / Life, what it is but a dream?”
Dante Alighieri, From “Inferno”
“It’s the pain / of the people down there that empties my / face. / It’s pity / that you’ve mistaken for fear. / And it’s the long way / that pushes us now. / Let’s go.”
Victor Hugo, Tomorrow, At Dawn
“Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens, / I will set out. You see, I know that you wait for me. / I will go by the forest, I will go by the mountain. / I can no longer remain far from you. / I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts, / Seeing nothing of outdoors, hearing no noise / Alone, unknown, my back curved, my hands crossed, / Sorrowed, and the day for me will be as night.”
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☾SCORPIO☽
Sarojini Naid, Autumn Song
“Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow, / The sunset hangs on a cloud; / A golden storm of glittering sheaves, / Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves, / The wild wind blows in a cloud. / Hark to a voice that is calling / To my heart in the voice of the wind: / My heart is weary and sad and alone, / For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone, / And why should I stay behind?”
Shel Silverstein, Dreadful
“Someone ate the baby. / It’s absolutely clear / Someone ate the baby / ‘Cause the baby isn’t here. / We’ll give away her toys and clothes. / We’ll never have to wipe her nose. / Dad says, “That’s the way it goes.” / Someone ate the baby.”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Aftermath
“When the summer fields are mown, / When the birds are fledged and flown, / And the dry leaves strew the path; / With the falling of the snow, / With the cawing of the crow, / Once again the fields we mow / And gather in the aftermath.”
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☾LIBRA☽
Maya Angelou, Caged Bird
“A free bird leaps / on the back of the wind / and floats downstream / till the current ends / and dips his wing / in the orange sun rays / and dares to claim the sky.”
Emily Dickinson, Good Morning – Midnight
“Good Morning – Midnight – / I’m coming Home – / Day – got tired of Me – / How could I – of Him? / Sunshine was a sweet place – / I liked to stay – / But Morn – didn’t want me – now – / So – Goodnight – Day!”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, My Heart and I
“You see we’re tired, my heart and I. / We dealt with books, we trusted men, / And in our own blood drenched the pen, / As is such colours could not fly. / We walked too straight for fortune’s end, / We loved too true to keep a friend ; / At last we’re tired, my heart and I.”
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☾VIRGO☽
Robert Hayden, Those Winter Sundays
“Sundays too my father got up early / and put his clothes on in the blueback cold, / then with cracked hands that ached / from labor in the weekday weather made / banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. / I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking / When the rooms were warm, he’d call, / and slowly I would rise and dress, / fearing the chronic angers of that house, / Speaking indifferently to him , / who had driven out the cold / and polished my good shoes well. / What did I know, what did I know / of love's austere and lonely offices?”
Jack Kerouac, How to Meditate
“Thinking’s just like not thinking- / So I don't have to think / any / more”
William Faulkner, Study
“Muted dreams for them / for me / Bitter science. Exams are near / And my thoughts uncontrollably / Wander, and I cannot hear / The voice telling me that work I must, / For everything will be the same when I’m dead / A thousand years. I wish I were a bust / All head.”
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☾LEO☽
Walt Whitman, I sing the Body Electric
“I sing the body electric, / The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,”
Oscar Wilde, The Ballad of Reading Gaol
“Yet each man kills the thing he loves, / By each let this be heard, / Some do it with a bitter look, / Some with a flattering word, / The coward does it with a kiss, / The brave men with a sword!”
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Friendship
“A ruddy drop of manly blood / The surging sea outweighs, / The world uncertain comes and goes; / The lover rooted stays. / I fancied he was fled, – / And, after many a year, / Glowed unexhausted kindliness, / Like daily sunrise there. / My careful heart was free again, / O friend, my bosom said, / Through thee alone the sky is arched, / Through thee the rose is red; / All things through thee take nobler form, / And look beyond the earth, / The mill-round of our fate appears / A sun-path in thy worth. / Me too thy nobleness had taught / To master my despair; / The fountains of my hidden life / Are through thy friendship fair.”
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☾CANCER☽
Shakespear, Sonnet 147
“My love is as a fever, longing still / For that which longer nurseth the disease, / Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,”
Robert Frost, Acquainted with the Night
“I have been one acquainted with the night. / I have walked out in rain – and back in rain. / I have outwalked the furthest city light. / I have looked down the saddest city lane. / I have passed by the watchman on his beat / And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. / I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet / When far away an interrupted cry / Came over houses from another street, / But not to call me back or say good-bye; / And further still at an unearthly height, / One luminary clock against the sky / Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. / I have been one acquainted with the night.”
William Blake, Auguries of innocence
“To see a World in a Grain of Sand / And a Heaven in a wild flower / Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand / And eternity in an hour”
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☾GEMINI☽
Rudyard Kipling, Blue Roses
“Half the world I wandered through, / Seeking where such flowers grew. / Half the world unto my quest / Answered me with laugh and jest. / Home I came at wintertide, / But my silly love had died / Seeking with her latest breath / Roses from the arms of Death.”
John Keats, To Sleep
“Save me from curious Conscience, that still lords / Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; / Turn the key deftly into the oiled wards, / And seal the hushed Casket of my soul.”
Lord Tennyson, The Eagle
“He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, / Ring’d with the azure world, he stands. / The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; / He watches from his mountain walls, / And like thunderbolt he falls.”
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☾TAURUS☽
John Donne, Air and Angels
“Twice or thrice had I lov’d thee, / Before I knew thy face or name; / So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame / Angels affects us oft, and worshipp’d be;”
Audre Lorde, Recreation
“my body / writes into your flesh / the poem / you make of me. / Touching you I catch midnight / as moon fires set in my throat / I love you flesh into blossom / I made you / and take you made / into me.”
Margaret Walker, Lineage
“My grandmothers were strong. / They followed plows and bent to toil. / They moved through fields sowing seed. / They touched earth and grain grew. / They were full of sturdiness and singing. / My grandmothers were strong. / My grandmothers are full of memories / Smelling of soap and onions and wet clay / With veins rolling roughly over quick hands / They have many clean words to say. / My grandmothers were strong. / Why am I not as they?”
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☾ARIES☽
E.E Cummings, Love is more thicker than forget
“love is more thicker than forget / more thinner than recall / more seldom than a wave is wet / more frequent than to fail”
Mark Twain, Genius
“But above all things, / to deftly throw the incoherent ravings of insanity into verse / and then rush off and get booming drunk, / is the surest of all the different signs / of genius.”
Paul Laurence Dunbar, Ships that Pass in the Night
“Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing; / I look far out into the pregnant night, / Where I can hear a solemn booming gun / And I catch the gleaming of a random light, / That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.”
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370 notes · View notes
daisyblog · 1 year
Text
Our Story
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Summary: YN and Harry have known each other since 2010 when YN's brother, Louis, is put in a band with Harry and three other boys when they auditioned for The X Factor. From the very beginning, YN and Harry were always close, and as time went on feelings grew deeper. This is YN and Harry's story. Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell
YN:
YN Tomlinson An insight into YN's life.
Tattoos YN's tattoos.
Songs Songs (or parts of songs) Harry's written about YN.
Lockscreen Harry and YN's lockscreen photos over the years.
TikTok:
Name a Girl
Doorframe
Couples Quiz
Belong Together
2011:
Will You Go On A Date With Me? YN and Harry spend time together and their feelings start to grow. First Date YN and Harry go on their first date. Caught YN and Harry’s relationship is exposed after a photo of them kissing is leaked. Written in Louis' POV.
Caught: Pt2 How Niall, Zayn and Liam found out about Harry and YN's relationship.
2012:
Trust YN and Harry take the next step in their relationship.
Worried YN is worried after her and Harry take the next step in their relationship, and ends up talking to Anne about it.
2013:
Kiss and Make Up Harry and YN have their first argument.
Happy Birthday YN It's YN's Birthday.
YN in This Is Us YN appears in clips in One Direction: This Is Us. Story Of My Life YN appears in the Story Of My Life music video.
2014:
Team Niall YN at The Niall Horan Charity Football Match.
Where We Are YN appears in clips in Where We Are San Siro.
Late YN realises her period is late.
Mother's Love Anne and Jay can see the love Harry and YN have for each other.
Night Changes YN in Harry's part of the Night Changes music video.
2015:
Never Have I Ever Harry gets embarrassed playing a game of Never Have I Ever on The Jonathan Ross Show.
2016:
Just Hold On Harry takes care of YN.
2017:
Teddy Harry surprises YN with a new little addition to their family.
2018:
Little Break People find out that Harry and YN have broken up.
Cherry How Cherry was made.
To Be So Lonely How To Be So Lonely was made.
Adore You How Adore You was made.
2019:
Burnout Harry and Louis help YN.
Zach Sang Show Louis discusses a small part of YN and Harry's relationship on a talk show.
Spill Your Guts: Harry Styles & YN Tomlinson Harry challenges YN to a game of Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts. Friendship Test Niall Horan and YN Tomlinson Take a Friendship Test.
I'm A Celebrity...Get Me Out Of Here YN is on I'm A Celeb.
2020:
Unexpected Visitor YN has an unexpected visitor.
2022:
Zane Lowe YN is mentioned in Harry’s interview with Zane Lowe.
Uncle Popstar Freddie goes to one of Harry's shows.
Capital FM Interview Harry talks about his new music, My Policeman and Don’t Worry Darling…and of course YN.
Venice Film Festival YN and Louis attend the Venice Film Festival with Harry.
2023:
Proud Sister YN is by Louis side at his London Premiere for All of Those Voices.
YN and Harry Love On Tour YN and Harry's Outfits and Instagrams during Love On Tour.
Love At Wembley Harry asks YN to marry him at Wembley.
"I'm here for your girlfriend" Harry announces he's engaged during a Wembley Show.
“Oh Harry” Anne’s reaction to ‘Keep Driving’ lyrics.
Thank You Harry and YN's Love On Tour thank you posts on their Instagram stories.
Faith In The Future Tour Snippets of YN and Harry supporting Louis on his tour.
Niece YN's reaction to having her first Niece.
Mrs Burton YN's reaction to Lottie getting engaged.
Hair YN's reaction to Harry's new hairstyle.
Pregnancy Follow YN and Harry's journey through pregnancy.
2024:
Uncle Harry Harry and YN meet Gemma’s baby.
Wedding Bells Harry and YN finally say “I do!”.
Love Day Harry and YN celebrate their first Valentine’s Day as a married couple.
Hormones YN gets emotional listening to Louis’ interview.
Birthday Twin YN and Harry welcome their baby girl into the world.
Uncle Louis Louis meets Grace for the first time.
Dad Mode Harry is overprotective of Grace and worries about everything.
Love for Grace Instagram posts about Grace.
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delsolsasha · 2 months
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♡ The Westwoods ♡
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Genevieve Westwood, 23
In the bustling heart of New York City, Genevieve Westwood's dreams of modeling sparkled like the lights of Times Square. One night, fate led her to a dimly lit bar where she found herself drawn to a charismatic celebrity. Their chance encounter bloomed into a whirlwind affair, resulting in an unexpected pregnancy. However, the harsh reality of addiction and fame soon clouded their happiness, leaving Genevieve to raise their daughter, Lucy, alone.
Determined to shield Lucy from her father's tumultuous world, Genevieve bravely chose to leave behind the glittering city life for the tranquil embrace of a costal town in Northern Maine. Settling into their quaint New England-style home, she faced the daunting task of nurturing Lucy's talents while also fearing the allure of fame's shadows.
Genevieve plans to challenge herself & transform their home into a small yet bustling restaurant to get them by for now. While the aroma of her cooking wafts through their cozy home, Genevieve holds onto hope that one day she would be able to share her culinary creations with the tight-knit community of her new town. Each dish she prepared was a labor of love, a testament to her dream of opening a restaurant where she could welcome locals and visitors alike. But for now, she found solace in the simple act of preparing meals for herself and Lucy, each dish a symbol of their journey toward a brighter future. ~DelSolSasha
(PS: can you tell I've been rewatching Gilmore girls?? lol)
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adnauseum11 · 3 months
Text
Emergency Rendezvous (John Price x Reader)
You spend the weekend with John and have an unexpected visitor.
1k words
CW: swearing, reference to explicit sex (MDNI)
feedback welcome!
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You spend the better part of the weekend with John, doing menial tasks made more interesting just by his presence. Setting the kitchen to rights and replenishing the contents of your vegetable crisper being the first priority. John makes apologetic sounds about your broken glasses the next morning but you can tell his heart isn’t in it. The smirk that threatens to escape containment doesn’t help his case. You swat at him but for a big man he’s surprisingly quick on his feet. 
You needlessly ply him with kisses to convince him to use his car to get more groceries than you normally would walking on your own. Even though they’re out of season and expensive, you can’t help buying two pints of blueberries, your favourite. You eye the raspberries, but the line must be drawn somewhere with your impulsive spending. John seems to enjoy himself, watching you squeezing and fondling the produce as you wander through the aisles.  
As you pass a hardware store on the way back John tries to convince you to purchase a new lock for your door, which you decline. You know you’re driving the man insane with your resistance to improving the security of your rental, which he brings up at least twice more over the span of the day. You just can’t justify the expense of improving something that doesn’t belong to you. Making it more comfortable and affordable by putting up plastic over the drafty windows – sure. Installing complicated locks and window coverings to a place you don’t own? No thanks, sounds like burning money to you. John thinks you are nuts to not want to be a secure as possible regardless of ownership or cost. You have to ask him to drop it, which he does reluctantly, but you catch him testing the locks on the bathroom window anyway. 
He wheedles you into spending Saturday night at his place, ordering your favourite Thai takeout and lazily making out on his couch with re-runs on in the background. Every inch of you feels suffused with contentment, John taking every opportunity to run his hands over you until you feel like a beloved house cat, well fed and petted. 
When John takes you to his bed that night, he insists on taking your clothes off piece by piece himself, pressing his hot mouth to each newly revealed section of skin. He worships at the altar of your hips and thighs, making you cum with a guttural cry that would have the neighbours calling the police back at your run-down place. You’re more than ready for him but instead of the intense, urgent sex you had in your kitchen he takes his time. He trades hard thrusts for rocking, grinding friction, his face buried in your throat, his lips on any skin he can reach. The steady rubbing contact on your clit and panted whispered praise in your ear makes you writhe under him. He makes you cum twice more before he chases down his own pleasure. You finally fall asleep tucked into his side, your heart feeling tender like a bruised muscle. 
Sunday finds you in no better shape, your throat aching when John serves you breakfast with a side of fresh raspberries. You joke that you must be getting your period soon if you’re getting weepy over fruit when John’s face registers alarm at your reaction to his gesture. The relief that sweeps across it would have made you laugh, if your throat hadn’t been choked off with emotion. 
You make him take you home to your place Sunday night, wanting to get organized before work the following morning. When he makes to follow you in you have to gently explain that he’s too distracting for you to get anything done. His frown softens at the reasoning but he still keeps you in the car for another 10 minutes before reluctantly letting you go. You promise to call him after work and wave him off, feeling another wave of emotion sideswipe you as he drives off. Certainly, your period must be around the corner. 
Monday night comes and you’re almost home when you pull your phone out to call John. You prefer to keep your phone put away when you are on public transport, but now that you’re walking the rest of the way home, you thumb through your contacts. You look up as the call rings, and see someone stepping in to your apartment. The call connects a few seconds later and John’s familiar rumble comes down the line. 
“Did you just beat me home? I didn’t know you were going to stop by.” You ask playfully, not minding one bit if he has. Except he hasn’t. 
“What? I have plans later darling, I can’t stop by.”
“What do you mean? I just saw you go in.” You’re perplexed, pulling your keys out by habit and then stopping dumbly at the door handle hanging at an odd angle. You can hear John moving on his end of the call, but your brain is still trying to understand the angle of the doorhandle. Could someone have fallen into it? Dropped a package on it?
“Love, are you sure?” John’s voice is taking on an authoritative quality that normally would rile you up but you feel frozen, unsure what to do. His tone breaks through your brain fog and you take a step back. And then another one.
“Yeah. The door handle looks all jacked up. I’m going to call-“ 
Your voice is soft, preoccupied.
“NO! No, don’t hang up. I’m coming, right now. You can call the police once I get there. Stay on the line with me.” John’s voice goes from panicked shout to soothing in the course of a few seconds. 
“I don’t know what to do, John.” Your own panic is starting to spiral, and you fight the urge to turn and blindly sprint down the sidewalk. 
“It’s alright, you’re alright love. Head back to the bus stop, I’m just leaving now.”
“All my jewellery!” You cry out suddenly, realizing all your valuables are vulnerable to whoever is in there. You turn to head back, uncertain. 
“Fuck the jewellery, get your ass out of there.” John growls and you reluctantly follow his direction, casting glances back over your shoulder as you retreat. 
Next Chapter
Taglist:
@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye
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minarisplaything · 1 year
Text
The Producer: Second Audition ft. Huh Yunjin
A/N: you can consider this a one-shot to the main series or perhaps a glimpse into the future of what's to come. either way i wanted to post it because It honestly might be one of my favorite things i've written in a minute and i'm not sure when the next chapter installment will be. enjoy!
pairing: huh yunjin x m!reader/oc summary: After first evaluations don’t go as planned, PD-nim gets an unexpected visitor at his office. rating: Explicit
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An unexpected knock at your door pulled you from the pile of documents on your table.
“Come in!” you called.
The past 48 hours had been a crash course in learning that while your uncle may have invested in modern facilities, he had not invested in modern record keeping. You and Jessica had already discussed hiring someone to help with converting everything to digital but for now the task was left up to you to sort through the records. A task that was proving tiresome at best. So when Yunjin poked her head through your door it was a welcome relief.
“Yunjin, what can I do for you?”
You didn’t feel as though you had a chance to truly get to know any of the girls as of yet. And with evaluations ongoing it made any attempts at breaking the ice even more tense. Except for Hyejoo who seemed unphased by anything, least of all your presence.
“PD-nim,” Yunjin greeted, her voice sounding surprisingly strained. “Do you have time to talk?”
“Of course. What’s on your mind?”
From what Jessica had told you of Yunjin she was quite the extrovert. And you had noticed it when seeing the girls interact with each other. But as she stood before you now she seemed almost nervous, apprehensive even; but there was a quiet determination in her eyes. Curious, you reclined back into your chair and eyed her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment before putting them behind her back.
“I wanted to talk about my evaluation.”
“Ah…”
“I was nervous and trying to impress you. I didn’t perform anywhere near my best,” she began to ramble. “And I know Lily and Chaehyun still have their evaluations coming up and I know they both have fucking amazing voices...”
You nearly choked on air the way she swore openly.
“Sorry,” she quickly amended before continuing, “I just don’t want you to think that this is the best I can do. I will do anything to debut. I need this and I want you to have the best impression of me.”
Fuck. This was the part of the job you were going to feel guilty about. Even the person who was usually cool, calm and collected was pouring her heart out in hopes that she wouldn’t be cut from the debut group. Is this why your uncle gave you this job? The old man was insane but he had a good heart. He wouldn’t have been able to stomach this but…then again you were barely stomaching this as it was.
When you snapped out of your thoughts you realized Yunjin had made her way from the front of your desk around to your chair. Swallowing thickly you couldn’t help but notice that the nervousness had seemingly left her body as she looked at you with lidded eyes. Every logical cell in your body was saying to do something, anything, and yet all you did was find your eyes drawn to her lips.
“Yunjin…”
“PD-nim” she interrupted you. She grabbed the arm of your chair, turning it so you could face her. “You know the girls keep talking about how handsome you are.”
“I don’t think…”
Before you could finish your sentence, Yunjin was sliding her body into your lap, straddling your legs. She straightened, pressing her lithe form against yours for a moment before sitting back onto your thighs so she could look at you. Here you had thought you were going to hear the plea of a desperate girl, now you were looking at a woman who was in complete control of what she was doing.
“Between you and me, who is your favorite?” her fingers danced along your chest, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, “You call tell me, I promise I won’t say. Is it Jimin-unnie? Or Chaewon-unnie?” She leaned close, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered you a secret, “I think you could fuck both of them if you wanted to.”
Your cock gave a guilty twitch at those words.
“Yunjin” you finally got out, finding your tongue, “This isn’t appropriate. And this isn’t how to secure your spot in the group.”
In response to you trying to put your foot down, Yunjin rolled her eyes. You opened your mouth to further chastise her only to fall short when she pulled the hem of her shirt over her head and tossed it to the ground. Her bare breasts were on display for you, puffy nipples staring you in the face as Yunjin looked down from her perch atop your lap, a smirk growing at your sudden silence.
She leaned forward, placing her arms lazily around your neck. She was so close that you could smell the perfume she wore. Did she wear that just for you? To further add to the intoxication? If you had any last words of resistance they were swallowed as Yunjin pressed her lips to yours. She took the lead, arching her body into yours as she kissed you. Her tongue ran along your bottom lip before slipping past your lips to explore your mouth. How had you ever fooled yourself into thinking this girl seemed timid when she entered your office?!
Head spinning, you tried to grasp some hold of the situation. Your hands found their way to her hips, telling yourself that you were intent on shoving her off of you. Yet somehow shoving her off turned into gripping her tighter. Yunjin moaned into your mouth approvingly, grinding her hips atop your growing erection. For a long moment that was all that existed. Slowly losing yourself in her aggressive kiss while she continued to rock her hips against yours. There was soon no denying your physical arousal, and by the way you were gripping her hips it was clear you had mentally given over to it as well.
It was Yunjin who ultimately broke the kiss, her nose brushing against yours. “PD-nim, you’re wearing too much clothes.”
As if to emphasize her point her hands moved towards your belt buckle, undoing it with deft hands before unbuttoning your pants.
“Yunjin, you know this won’t guarantee your spot right?”
Yunjin scoffed, giving you a wry look, “PD-nim you really know how to talk to a lady you know that?” her fingers fished your cock out of your boxers, giving the girthy meat a squeeze that caused you to grip her tight she might bruise. “And you really shouldn’t say things you don’t mean.”
Her cockiness might’ve been infuriating in any other circumstance. In this case, however, when she was holding the evidence of her ability in her hand there was little point in maintaining a stern facade. Seeing the resignation on your face a devilish smile spread across Yunjin’s features. She slowly stroked your cock, pre-cum already dripping from the tip. You should’ve been more ashamed than you were. In truth you wanted more.
It seemed so did Yunjin, she sat up slightly, beginning to move herself atop your length when there was a sudden knock at your door.
“Are you busy?”
“That’s Jessica,” you blurted out in a hushed whisper.
It only lasted a second but you could have sworn you saw a look of panic on Yunjin’s face. A moment of chaos ensued ultimately ending up with Yunjin being stuffed topless under your desk with your hard cock still out but hidden from view.
“Kind of,” you called back. “What did you need?”
“Can I come in? It’s easier to talk about it in person.”
You glanced down under the desk to see Yunjin who had already taken to sucking on your cock like a lollipop despite the situation you were currently in. This girl. And where was her shirt?! You briefly looked around, spotting it and tried to drag it out of site with your foot.
“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, come in.”
Jessica entered, dressed in a form fitting pant suit. She never failed to dress to kill, though for the first time your attention was far from focused on your co-worker.
“What’s –” you paused, clearing your throat when you felt Yunjin start to fondle your balls, “What’s up?”
“I was just thinking about the evaluations earlier…”
Oh fuck. She wants to talk about something serious? Now of all times?! Admittedly, Jessica didn’t know you were currently getting a blowjob under your desk but her timing couldn’t be worse. It also didn’t help that Yunjin was still technically one of the trainees being evaluated. Maybe you could talk your way out of it before you lost it entirely.
“Oh? I thought they went well” you feigned.
Jessica fixed you with a look that might’ve been the most judgemental look you had received in your life. And honestly, given what was going on you probably deserved it. “That’s only because you don’t know the girls. A lot of them don’t usually perform that poorly. I think we may have rushed the evaluations a little too soon.”
“Are you sure you’re not,” you swallowed a swear and a moan, “...just too close to the situation?”
“No, I’m not –” she paused to gain her composure. “They are good enough to make it into the group. Yunjin especially is talented.”
As if on cue, Yunjin began to deep-throat your cock. She took it all the way, your cock poking her throat as she pressed her face into your groin. On what hand you wondered why she was being so risky. On the other hand – good god.
“Oh, I’m sure she is,” you breathed out. “So what…what are you suggesting we do?”
Maintaining eye contact with Jessica was getting harder and harder, so you were almost grateful when she started pacing back and forth.
“I don’t know. Maybe push evaluations back a bit? Give the girls some time to get comfortable with the new situation? It’d also give you more time to settle in.”
Yunjin’s tongue ran along the thick vein on the underside of your cock as she slowly pulled it out of her mouth. Careful to make as little noise as possible while utterly torturing you to the utmost extent. She began to swirl her tongue around it, from the sensitive tip all the way down the base. You knew you had to get Jessica out of there immediately if she kept this up.
“Y-yeah that sounds good. Let’s do that” you stuttered.
“Really?”
“Yes! I trust your judgment.”
Jessica, usually so cool and professional, cracked a rare smile. “Great! I’ll go let the girls know.”.
Fortunately, she seemed too pleased to comment on your distressed expression, instead hurrying out the door. Almost simultaneous with the sound of the door closing, Yunjin began to vulgarly suck your cock. She was intent on draining every drop from you as she massaged your balls, coaxing your release to shoot out. You were completely at her mercy as you gripped your desk, trying not to cry out as you looked down at her. When she looked up at you with a wide-eyed stare, her mouth firmly secured around your cock, it was over for you.
“Fuck!”
You grunted as your peak hit. Rope after rope of cum filled her mouth yet she didn’t pull off once. In fact, Yunjin didn’t spill a single drop. When she did finally pull her mouth off your cock, she made sure to suck it clean before finally swallowing and looking up at you with a smirk.
“PD-nim, I think my vocals will be a lot better next time now.”
Fuck. What had you just gotten yourself into.
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serendipitous-seven · 3 months
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how you met | a serendipitous life
whether fate is a belief or it's perfect timing, we'll see how each couple met and ignited their purple.
dad!bts mlist
↳ Namjoon & Moon | the couple with the longest history.
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You started as the friends who always had a thing for each other. You knew you wanted to confess to him eventually but when he was signed and whisked away to the city, you sort of lost your chance. Once you moved away for college, the two of you lost touch but you always made it a point to silently support Namjoon and kept mutual friends between each other. After graduating college some years later, you were surprised by a very unexpected visitor at your celebration dinner - Namjoon (appropriately set up by said friends.) It didn’t take long for you and Namjoon to rebuild your friendship leading to the revelation that both had mutual feelings - thus a relationship was made official. You and Namjoon have learned the true meaning of ups and downs. Despite the long separation between friendship and relationship, Namjoon broke off the relationship spurred on by pressures from his career and outside disapproval of your relationship. But ultimately the two of you decided you didn’t want to miss out on any more years with each other -again- and rekindled your relationship once and for all. While you are both still learning to strengthen the bonds of union along with two kids, your love for each other is unbreakable. No matter what, you always find your way back to each other.
↳ Jin & Hart | the traditionally untraditional couple.
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You are a family friend whom Jin secretly had a thing for, for a long time. Given his career, he never found the right time to see if there was a mutual attraction. Despite years in between seeing each other at family & friend gatherings, the few times Jin had personal free time - he could never shake you from his mind. So finally, while on a month's break, he took his parents to visit his hometown. Call it chance or the doings of two self-proclaimed, match-making mothers, a welcome home party of sorts was thrown together, conveniently bringing you to him - much to his delight. He charmed his way into your life though you persistently rejected him. It terrified you, the thought of dating an idol but, even you couldn’t deny who Jin was at heart, a jokester who just wanted to see the ones around him smile. He made sure you were comfortable and felt secure in the relationship. It was smooth sailing all things considered, until the night Jin was going to propose he learned you had a surprise of your own - you were pregnant. Both raised in very traditional homes, your families did not welcome the news initially, but when baby Gi was born, he melted their hearts. Now with three kids, another on the way, and a husband pursuing his love for acting, your life is as busy as ever. But even with the prospect of your husband signing with his first television series, you’re confident you can get through this next journey without a hitch.
↳ Yoongi & Kitt | the mom and dad of the group.
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You started as an intern for BigHit some years back and upon meeting Yoongi, the two of you hit it off. It was whispered throughout the company that you two would end up as more than just workmates turned friends. While the two of you would dismiss those rumors, not even acknowledging them outwardly, the attraction to each other only grew. But given contracts and fears a relationship could destroy your integrity to the company and work, you concluded that your feelings had to be kept locked away. That is until you left after being promoted. Yoongi was confused and unwilling to let this go, especially where it concerned you. He confronted you and, well, the rest is history. Of course, the relationship was kept a secret for quite some time until the members told Yoongi they’d known for a while (many laughs are still shared about this.) Everything sort of fell into place from there. You married and had Dae not long after Jin and Hart gave birth to Gi. Everyone who knows you will say you and Yoongi are the most laid-back couple who keep a low profile and are very set in your ways. But if there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that you can never be too settled.
↳ Jimin & Chick | the power couple beloved by many.
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Park Jimin swears he fell in love with you the moment he saw you on the set of their music video for Idol. You beg to differ. But Jimin never expected this, to fall for the head stylist. He knew he couldn’t leave the shoot without getting to know you - somehow and someway. He had enough charm and confidence to woo you only to fall short of your wit and cute smiles, reducing him to a blushing mess. Dinner was had the next night but not without a herd of paparazzi. You two were in a relationship according to headlines before you even knew it yourself. But it was an easy decision for you, falling for this man who vowed to take care of you (so long you kept your promise to cuddle him in bed every night.) Escaping to another country to marry in a very private ceremony, and returning to Seoul was a whirlwind. But you and Jimin quickly proved to be a power couple, taking the world by storm. Now with Jimin pursuing other opportunities, and a third boy on the way, you’ve retired from styling and do what you’ve always wanted to - create fashion from your home studio. Power couple or not, managing this bunch with your soon-to-be four boys will be interesting, to say the least!
↳ Taehyung & Luv | your every day Mr. and Mrs.
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Oh, Mr. Romantic. He didn’t know how or when he would meet the love of his life, but it was something he hoped for. Little did he know that you were under his nose the entire time. Close friends with Woo-Shik from ‘Wooga squad’, you always had a thing for Tae - but no one could ever know. Spending time with Tae always went amiss until the chance fell into your lap when Woo-shik invited you over for a very regular dinner at his house. Lo and behold, Mr. Kim Taehyung was there. He chatted you up (conveniently sat next to you) and if you remember correctly, he even fed you a bite to eat. Wandering eyes amidst the friend group - they just knew. Life was busy and you didn’t see Taehyung for some months until Cupid struck you with another arrow - you crossed paths during a random day out. You had lunch, spent the rest of the day window shopping together, flirting with each other, and Taehyung, the bashful but cheeky man that he is, kissed you when he walked you to your door that night. He confessed that he couldn’t get you out of his mind since that night at Woo-shik’s house, and even wondered what it would be like to kiss you. It was as easy as it could get. Dating. Missing him while he toured. Getting married. Crying with him when the group retired. And now with a 1-year-old boy who is the apple of your husband’s eye, the two of you can’t wait to see what the future holds.
↳ Jungkook & Bell | the couple who met at the right place, right time.
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He believed wholeheartedly he would hear bells when he found the one. So as a special guest at a speaking event, the sound of bells entered his ears (really it was an accompaniment of perfectly timed music set to play between speeches) he looked up at the podium, and there you were, a local speaker who just so happened to fall before his sparkling eyes. You knew BTS, you listened to some of their songs, but it was nothing more than that. Even then, when you found yourself talking to Jeon Jungkook, you had to pinch yourself to make sure this was real. He was very discreet but he made sure you knew he was interested. And you were too, this was intriguing. So, with only the purest intention, you went out to get to know him - maybe you could be friends. Several dates and a very awkward and shy kiss later, Jungkook made it clear what he wanted. You. Oh, what a curve ball life threw at you once the two of you started dating. How secretive it had to be - how stressful that was. But in the last year of BTS’ contract, the news came out and well, opinions were mixed. But the two of you had prepared for that as much as possible, supporting one another. Now married with a few years under your belt, Jungkook continues to pursue a solo career in music while you care for your newborn baby at home - soon to return to your job as well. Being the youngest couple in the group, people often underestimate the two of you. But you know well enough that, together, there isn’t a storm that can’t be weathered.
↳ Hoseok & Sunny | the international couple.
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Hobi was open to the idea of falling in love with someone overseas, but he never expected it to happen. When he laid eyes on you, working behind the camera for one of their interviews, he couldn’t keep them from wandering over to you the entire time (you laugh about it now when you see clips of that interview and how distracted he was.) He talked a big talk and when J-Hope of BTS slipped you his number you rolled your eyes as he walked away, crumpling the piece of paper but sticking it in your pocket anyway. It wasn’t until you got home later that night did you remember you had his number, annoyed with yourself the more you thought about how enjoyable conversation actually was with him; you caved and texted him. Oh how delighted he was! You two texted all night, in between your work and his schedule the following day, and nearly every day for the next year. The reality of your relationship didn’t take long to rear its ugly head after he returned to Korea. Missing each other was painful and often led to bickering. One day he challenged you and asked ‘Why don’t you move to Korea and pursue your career in media out here?’ Stubborn and understandably terrified of the idea, you were offended he was asking you to uproot your life. Some time passed when one day it all just clicked and you knew Hobi was not someone you were willing to lose. With the help of your colleagues, they found a spot for you at a company based out of Seoul. Things were strained for a while, from having to restart your life in Korea, dating an idol, and the language barrier, but Hobi always made sure you knew how much he valued you for doing all of it. Spending any free time he had with you, making this new city feel like home for you. When you experienced some ridicule, Hoseok proved how much of a pillar he would be. You lived together before marrying, had your son Huimang, and now juggle being a mom, and a wife to a retired idol all while working your way up in the world of media. Too busy isn’t a word in your and Hoseok’s vocabulary, so trying for your second baby should be a breeze.
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taglist: @mizz-kraziii
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rosemaze-reveries · 1 month
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Hi there!! Can I req a Matthias x reader where the reader is very nice yet shy, and Matthias fell for their kindness but is afraid to confess cause he might lose them(who's the first and only person to show him genuine care)?
(But he's also bad at hiding his feelings)
Or maybe a scenario where he has a difficult time sleeping and finds himself impulsively knocking on your door— regretful of his actions but he can't back out now that you're standing in front of the open door, curious from the unexpected visit.
He's a new char so I hardly find any fics about him and I'm desperate💔 you can change the scenario!! I'm really just desperate uehdhsishd(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)
hi anon i LOVED these ideas! i tried to combine both of them into one, i hope it satisfies what you wanted!! ♡
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falling slowly 🪡
Matthias isn’t one to act on impulse.
He’ll let his thoughts fester aimlessly inside him, hoping the darker among them someday fizzle out. He’ll watch precious chances fly past him, fearing the consequences of a risk taken too rashly. A missed opportunity is better than another tragedy. A guarded mind is better than a broken heart. But some restless nights drive him to desperation, and tonight that leads him to you.
He stands outside your bedroom door, arms stiff against his sides. He’s passed by this room countless times before, as the two of you occasionally walk each other back to your rooms. But never has he come here on his own, never without explicit permission.
He gingerly raises his hand, letting it hover above your doorframe. All of a sudden, he loses his words. What would he say? I can’t sleep, I need you to check for monsters under my bed? I need you to stay with me until I fall asleep? I need you to tuck me in? What a baby. He can already picture the look you’d send him: a smile that’s trying too hard to be polite, a shabby effort at concealing the judgment within. You wouldn’t turn him down directly, even though he knows you’d want to. Kindhearted people love to dance in circles before saying anything that might offend. He’s all too familiar with this game. Normally, your kindness is something he loves about you, but all he can do now is curse it under his breath. If only you were crueler to him, like most people are, then he wouldn’t have let his hopes inflate his head. He would’ve known never to even consider stopping by your room. He would’ve known to avoid this situation altogether.
His fingers close into a fist, and it’s then he realizes he’s quivering slightly. Louis wouldn’t have a problem in this scenario. That thought piques Matthias most. His “factory defect” has locked him in place yet again, and all he can do is swallow down the reminder of his incompetence. It’s just a door, for God’s sake.
He flexes his fingers one last time, glancing around as if worried someone might catch him. Then he strikes his fist. It’s a clumsy motion, rattling your door on its hinges, and his heart leaps to his throat. A courteous knock would have three raps or so, not the jarring thud! he made — nobody in their right mind would imagine that’s a welcome visitor, right? Especially not at this snake’s pit of a manor. He prays desperately for you to ignore that ever happened. In your position, he’d pretend to be asleep, maybe double-check that the door is properly locked. Surely you’d do the same.
Surely...?
“It’s open!” greets your voice from inside, entirely unconcerned.
Matthias holds his breath. Why are you leaving your door unlocked at this hour? But he tucks that thought away while he stares down at the doorknob. This is it — he’s trapped. If he turns around now, you’ll be left with unresolved fears of someone lurking around your room at night. Nothing could entice him to do that to you. And if you ever found out it was him? It’d be too late for apologies, and definitely not forgiveness. Right, so he has to answer.
Slowly, he cracks it open a fraction, afraid of peering anywhere but the ground.
“You can come in,” you urge. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. Footsteps shuffle around inside, then the door fully swings open. “Oh, hi Matthias! What’s up?”
He only meets your face briefly, at your bright and curious eyes, before his gaze flicks back downward.
“Uh… sorry to bother you, I just…” He awkwardly grasps at his elbows, struggling to string together his intentions. “…I need you.”
. . . . .
There it is. His secret is out. He didn’t mean to let it slip, but that single phrase had been bouncing endlessly around his mind, as if they were the only words he knew. It’s the one thing he can confidently admit: he needs you. He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate. In fact, he’s certain you don’t. Nobody in their right mind would. That’s why he never ventured to say these words before. So when you respond to him with patient silence, as if waiting for him to continue, the entirety of his body freezes over. Maybe only a few seconds pass in reality, but that’s more than enough time for Matthias to fill the gaps. It’s a no — he knows it’s a no.
Your head tips slightly. “Sure, what do you need?”
The whirlwind in his mind slows to a halt. He remembers how he used to cough up excuses on the spot when trying to avoid you—sometimes you’d invite him for a meal or game of cards together, and he had convinced himself those were pity invites so he tended to reject them upfront. It stings less to avoid someone altogether than to endure feeling ‘tolerated’ instead of ‘wanted.’ But now he’s wracking his brain for an excuse to stay.
“I—I just wanted to see you.” It’s not a lie, but for some reason it feels like one.
“Me?” A look of surprise flashes on your face, warmth blooming across your chest. That might be the most forward thing you’ve ever heard from him. Stepping closer, you reach for his forearm, peering up into his face to better examine his strained features. Your free hand reaches up to brush aside the limp strands of hair shrouding his face. “Did something happen? It’s almost midnight—I mean, I don’t mind, it’s just so unexpected…”
The strength falls from Matthias’ shoulders. Out of relief, maybe. Or maybe it’s to brace himself for one last leap of faith.
“Can I stay with you…?” His voice is barely audible. You search his lone eye, staring back at you in its perfect hollowness. At some point, that blank stare has become a comforting sight for you. Your hand trails from his arm to spread across his shoulder. He remains motionless.
“Okay,” you say, softly. “Always.”
As you move to wrap both arms around his neck, you notice his body tense, and his brows furrow, subtly, in a clear attempt not to let you notice. The strain on his face catches you off-guard.
“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” Immediately, you pull back to search his expression.
“N-No, nothing—keep going.”
This time, it’s Matthias who draws you close. His arms weave their way around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. His face burrows into your shoulder, and it’s then you understand the weight of his visit, of his need for you. All you can do is lift a tender hand to ruffle his hair, feeling his pounding heart ease in your arms.
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lilyrachelcassidy · 1 year
Text
The Cat
Mattheo Riddle x Reader 
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Summary: The one where Mattheo welcomes an unexpected visitor in his dormitory, which eventually leads to a confession from his side. 
Warnings: yyyhhh, not really, no; some feisty cat tho 
Word Count: 1.2k 
xoxoxxoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxo
Mattheo cranked the handle of the shower, releasing the hot jet of water on his body. Today was positively ghastly, and he wanted to wash the emotions and memories off of him. He planned on taking a few minutes of a good read of a Daily Prophet and then plunging under the blanket where he would be able to, hopefully, forget the horror of the day.
Life, however, had even more advancing events for him to deal with because when he finally shut the stream off, he heard a jangle coming from his bedroom, the room to which the bathroom was adjoined. He suddenly froze, stock-still. 
For a moment he admonished himself for being such a weakling, therefore, he quickly recovered from his momentary trans. On autopilot, and because he wasn’t sure what to expect, he threw on some robes and exited the bathroom.
Yet before he could take one step forward, something big and furry flung to his feet. He let out a surprised howl but soon discerned that the enigmatic object actually turned out to be a fat, shabby cat with flamboyant ginger hair and a bizarre froufrou collar on its neck. Quickly recovering from the shocker and the howl, which he definitely won’t be chronicling over his family dinner, he bent over the pet and took it in his arms.
“Well, well... if you aren’t a treat for heart,” he said with a few droplets of water trickling on the cat’s fur. It hissed in dissatisfaction at which Mattheo chuckled. He scrutinized the froufrou collar yet again and noticed the printed, golden word on it which showcased ‘Henrietta’ in the cursive. “Your owner clearly must hate you, Henrietta...”
The cat hissed again, and Mattheo wasn’t sure if it was a hiss of disagreement or not, but he liked to arrogate that as long as the cat was in his arms, it agreed with his opinion.
How had the cat entered his bedroom, or why would it do it in the first place, he didn’t know. But the bond between them flourished as Mattheo stroked it a few times and was rewarded with a great, vibrating purr in response.
“Okay, let’s get you on the bed, buddy.” Stiffly, he put it on the bed with which the cat seemed to be extremely dissatisfied as it hissed again. “You didn’t possibly expect me to cradle you around all night, right? The privilege is only reserved for my cigarettes...”
He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this situation next but the resolved it probably wouldn't help with him walking around butt naked. He almost reached the bathroom to change to his regular, nightly attire, but a knock came to the door.
“For Merlin’s Sake...”
As the door swung open, it revealed a girl, an absolutely dazzling one, who Mattheo had been pinning after for a few months now - Y/N. She still had the school robes on her which she enhanced with some sew-on, muggle badges, and she was wrenching both of her hands like a small child summoned to solve a task in from of the entire class. She smiled at him coyly, and Mattheo was suddenly very aware that nothing but a thin layer of cloth prevented him from fully stripping in front of her.
To be fair, he wouldn’t have minded that at all.
“Hey, sorry to... intrude. But I have been looking all over for my cat and-” She halted in the middle of the sentence as she noted Henrietta casually stretched on Mattheo’s bedsheets, staring at its owner as though it revealed a Royal Flush on the poker table. “There you are, you stupid creature! What are you doing here?”
She crouched down, evidently waiting for the cat to approach her but it made no move whatsoever nor expressed any desire of being relocated. When Y/N made the reproachful expression and hushed at it a couple of times, only then did it finally get a grip that there was no option of a sleepover.
As soon as the cat prowled over to her feet, Y/N picked it up and swiftly faced Mattheo in the standing position again. She smiled at him. “I’m sorry about that. I hope Henrietta didn’t cause you too much trouble.”
Mattheo leaned over at a jamb, arms folded together. “No, of course not.” He shook his head lightly, and they both stood there grinning at each other and the absurdity of the situation they were shoved into.
“So, I think I should get going...”
But before she was able to move, Mattheo spouted off: “Don't you think I should get some kind of reward for finding your cat?”
Y/N sniggered, looking at him with amusement in her eyes. “Did you really find her? Or was it just a stroke of luck that she sauntered into your dormitory?”
At that, Mattheo smirked. He loved that someone was able to match his level of teasing. And he loved the way the corners of her lips curved, exposing a little dimple in one of her cheeks. “Technicalities.”
Y/N rolled her eyes but decided to give in to his conditions. “Fine. What do you want?”
“Go on the date with me,” he said it. Matter-of-factly. It actually cost him a much greater deal than he made the impression of; his throat went dry, and his heart picked up on the rabbit speed. And yet he was still leaning on the jamb, a smirk adorning his countenance and daring to look Y/N straight in the eyes as if it was one of the most obvious answers to that question.
That she seemed to not expect because at first, she snorted, but then apprehended that Mattheo wasn’t going to join her in laughter, thus she started goggling with a jaw hanging in consternation. That had a strangely amusing effect on Mattheo who, despite his tense body, managed to look casual. “You? On a date? With me? Do you even know who I am?”
“You are Y/N, and presumably, you are the owner of the strangely-named cat...”
“Hey! Henrietta is a very beautiful name. Have you not read ‘Persuasion’?” When Mattheo shook his head, Y/N let out a little squeak of disbelief. The cat peered at her with annoyance. “It’s only one of the greatest books ever! It’s muggle but still, something to catch up on.” 
Mattheo contemplated her face for a few seconds before the idea sprung up to his mind. “How about...” he started. “I take you to ‘Flourish and Blotts’ this weekend, and we can go over a few chapters together. Or we can go to the ‘Three Broomsticks’ and then you would tell me all about Henrietta?��
The robust blush spread over Y/N's cheeks. She set her face downcast, but a grin, even from that cant, was visible on her lips. “Only under one condition.” 
“And what is that?” asked Mattheo with a brow raised.
“You won’t poke fun at the name Henrietta ever again.” She simpered at him and that, Mattheo thought, was the sight he could admire on a daily basis.
“You got yourself a deal there, Y/N.” He extended the hand on which Y/N shook, and they both beamed at one another.
Later that night, Mattheo thought that thanks to the bloody cat, his days turned out to be one of his greater achievements, after all.
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