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offside-the-lines · 3 months

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tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier

"The first sip is joy, the second is gladness, the third is serenity, the fourth is madness, the fifth is ecstasy." - Jack Kerouac

Summary In July of 2023, Evie looked at a list of cities in North America and rolled a die. Just like that, she packed up her life and moved to Chicago, a fresh start. The 2023-24 NHL season started well for Tito; he did not expect the call on November 28th telling him that he was being traded. To the worst team in the league. And just like that. 10 months after being ripped from his home, he had to pack up and move again. To an unfamiliar city, and to unfamiliar faces. Which is why, when Tito and Evie ran into each other, quite literally, on Christmas morning, they both latched on to a familiar face. Over the next few months, they became close friends. They didn’t talk about the nights shared in Chicago clubs. They didn’t need to. Because they're just friends. Right?

This is a completed fic split into episodes for easier reading. It was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston.

Episode 1. Blue Christmas (4.9k) Episode 2. I. Winter (4.4k) Episode 3. Pal-entine's Day (4.8k) Episode 4. Four-leaf Clover (5.5k) Episode 5. Evie's Birthday 🌶️ (5.6k) Episode 6. II. Spring (4.8k) Episode 7. Not Goodbye 🌶️🌶️ (5.4k) Episode 8. III. Summer (4.8k) Episode 9. Tito's Birthday (4.2k)

Read it in full (44.5k)

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Under the cut: author's notes, tropes, warnings & disclaimer, fun tidbits, chapter summaries

Author's Notes: This fic was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston. It got so out of control long so quickly. I genuinely had so much fun writing this, it's basically my magnum opus; if you look closely, I think you can probably see my soul in there somewhere. I would like to thank @devilssacrament, @wyattjohnston, and @forgottenflowers for being my editors, holding my hand and keeping me sane in this. Also, thanks to @swissboyhisch, and @imperatorrrrr for being a sounding board for ideas . All of your help and support has meant so much to me. You are all just the fucking best, I am sorry this has been my entire personality for the past month, I will probably return to normal soon. Probably...

Tropes: a gut-wrenching mix of angst and fluff with a happy ending, slow burn friends to lover (tbh, idiots to lovers let's be real), alternating POVs

Warnings: alcohol (one instance of alcohol poisoning by side character), mature content bordering on smut (mostly occurring in clubs/public), references to a toxic past relationship. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team based there. Only other Chicago players mentioned by name are: Nick Foligno, Jason Dickinson and Connor Bedard. Other notes: NHL players featured Mat Barzal (a heavily featured supporting character/bestie) and brief mentions of Zach Hyman and Matt Martin. Assume that Tito and Evie are always speaking in French with each other.

Face claim for Evie (if you want one, but you can imagine whoever you like): Adeline Rudolph

Fun Tidbits: Original Character (she/her) called Genevieve Gignac or Evie (pronounced eh-vee) is the oldest sibling of Tito's juniors teammate and friend Brandon Gignac. Along with their other sibling Wiliam, they grew up in Montreal. Evie had been living in Toronto for six years, before moving to Chicago in the summer before the fic starts. I did way too much research so a lot of the little facts are true. Nicknames: (ma) chouette (shoo-wet): owl (mon) chou/chouchou (shoo): in practice, honey, sugar, baby, sweetheart // by definition, my cabbage or my profiterole/cream puff (depends who you ask) Solours (soul-oars): the Québécois name for the yellow Care Bear with the smiling sun on its belly Solou’ (soul-oo): a diminutive Evie decides to use

Cook, Cook, drink your tea, But save some in the pot for me. We'll watch the tea leaves in our cup When our drink is all sipped up. Happiness or fortune great, What will our future be? -- "Afternoon Tea at Pittock Mansion" by R.Z. Berry

Episode Synopses:

Blue Christmas Evie and Tito are both starting life anew in Chicago. It's an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar faces. They're both alone on Christmas. Maybe it's fate that brings them together. Jason and Alandra Dickinson are already smelling smoke from this fire.

I. Winter Tito injures his wrist in the first game of 2024, he’s out for 6-8 weeks and then his car breaks down. He thinks maybe he’s cursed. Evie becomes a shoulder to lean on. Barzy gets suspicious.

Pal-entine’s Day Tito returns her kindness by being a shoulder Evie can lean on when she is having a hard time after all-star break. She tells him it’s anxiety about work. He brings her a box of pastries and they cuddle on the couch all day; he doesn’t realize it’s Valentine’s Day. Later, a hook-up goes very wrong.

Four-leaf Clover Tito’s been playing again, and during his first stretch of away games begins to miss home. Well, Evie’s home anyway. When he sees her in the bar, he can’t help but show it. Barzy calls him out on his lies.

Evie’s Birthday Sometimes the music moves you. Sometimes the bass pounding in your chest makes you do things you wouldn’t do. Fuck it, it’s your birthday. That’s what Evie tells herself anyway. There are gifts given, but there are also secrets kept.

II. Spring Tito tries to tell her— he does— It’s just he needs to find the right time, and something keeps coming up. Evie’s honest with herself. But does that even matter? Mat decides maybe it is his time to intervene.

Not Goodbye Evie realizes that her time is running out. To do what? She doesn’t know. But she has one last night to find out. That is until— Well. It’s too late now. Tito flies home and wonders if that will be the worst mistake of his life.

III. Summer They try to get on with their summers as if nothing is wrong, convincing no one. How long will it take them to realize they can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine? And who will finally take the leap of faith?

Tito’s Birthday Tito receives the best birthday present he has ever gotten: the girl he loves standing at his parent’s front door. It was never destiny or fate; it can only be by choice. And they’ll choose each other every time. Eventually, anyway.

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

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I NEED A GHOST FANFIC WHERE WE FALL IN LOVE WITH GHOST AND WINNIE AND IT SHOWS THEIR RELATIONSHIP ABD MORE!!! OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH 🫶🫶🫶🫶

Dear Winter | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: my first 2023 post! happy new year!!! thank you for requesting and being patient - this took a while lol. it might not be what you want but i literally could not NOT write this. it would be illegal.

song reference: Dear Winter by AJR

summary: Simon had to find a toy for Winnie, but discovers what finally pushes him over the edge to confess his love for you.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT

Simon didn’t feel like he should’ve been searching in his attic for a mindless little toy that Winnie wanted. He had packed it away when he recognized that she didn’t like it anymore, but now it’s all she’ll talk about. The goddamn elephant that he bought at the hospital when she was born - it was before he was able to see her. It sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and he put in a voice recording of himself saying, “I love you, Winnie.”

All Winnie ever wanted was the bear that Price had gotten her, the little green bear that did nothing but stare lifelessly. Now it was “I want Ellie, Daddy. I want Ellie!” all day and night, and his poor nanny was doing her best to keep Winnie entertained - which wasn’t enough, apparently.

He opened another plastic tub, placing the lid on the box beside it. It was full of Winnie’s baby clothes, ranging from frilly dresses to onesies. He dug through it, but still not seeing the pink elephant. He huffed in frustration, slamming the lid back on the tub and pulled it away, revealing another tub just like it.

This one was full of photos, which were of Winnie, him, and you specifically. Special milestones like when it was Winnie’s first steps, his eyes wide as he watched Winnie take her first steps. Or the picture in front of your family’s Christmas tree, the year he needed your help to figure out Christmas. Winnie sat on his shoulders and your arm around his back, his girls’ smiles large as his eyes were only visible from his cloth balaclava.

His girls.

His thumb swiped at your bubbly smile on the picture, a smile of his own now on his face.

He had fallen for you that Christmas. Spending more time with you than Winnie, since your three brothers kept the little one occupied for most of the trip. He had found you fascinating, you never pushed an answer from him, choosing to let him understand you first. He had very reluctantly allowed you to hug him, rest your head on his shoulder, and tried his best not to flinch when you grabbed his hand. That was two years ago - he was so far down the rabbit hole that he had convinced himself that you were just being friendly. He figured out later that you had a crush on him.

Simon sighed, beginning to move the large cluster of pictures out of the box and onto the floor when a folded piece of paper tumbled across the floor. He grunted in annoyance, dropping the pictures onto the spot next to him before stretching and reaching out for the paper, grasping it in his fingers. He was ready to toss it into the box when he looked back into it, only seeing old notebooks of his from when he was a kid. He thumbed the piece of paper, seeing a date that he remembered well.

If he was a little bit less tired of his daughter’s constant pleading for a toy he was very sure was in her room, he might have thrown the folded paper in the box again, shoving all of the picture on top of it. If he was a little more awake, he would’ve buried the paper at the bottom of the box - but it was something he had thought about for a few weeks.

It was an old assignment he had done in school as a teenager, on his 16th birthday when he used the last of his happiness and sanity to do the one assignment he really wanted to. Write a letter to someone in the future.

He tucked the piece of paper and the Christmas photo in his pocket, shoving the photos back in the box - he decided Winnie could wait another day for that stupid elephant. He slid the lid back on the tub and made his way back to the attic entrance. He quickly climbed down, pushing the ladder back up with one arm. It clicked into place and he turned away, making his way downstairs. He heard the thunderous footsteps of his daughter before she ran in front of him, her blanket tied around her shoulders as she held up her green bear. He watched her go by as she made the noise of an airplane, disappearing into the living room.

He looked back to where she came from, seeing a glimpse of you moving out of the playroom and into the front room. Simon then followed his daughter, walking into the living room as she then noisily made her way into the kitchen. He didn’t mind, he always hated noise but hearing his daughter have fun was an exception. Every noise his daughter made assured him that she was still alive, his worst fear was losing Winnie. He swiftly sat down on the couch, pulling out the folded piece of paper.

His fingers moved the flimsy paper to open, and it was like he was transported back in time.

Dear Winter,

I hope you like your name. I hope they don't make fun of you when you grow up and go to school, okay? 'Cause Winter is a badass name.

I hope you talk to girls or boys or anyone you like, I just hope you don't stay in every night. 'Cause I wish I was out tonight.

I hope you like your name. I'm hoping that someday, I can meet you on this earth.

I hope you like this letter. Even when you're thirteen and you scream at me for parenting you wrong.

I still hope you like your name. You know I cannot wait to teach you how to curse.

But Winter, please don’t move too far away. And please don't say I'm hovering when I call you to ask about your day.

I wanna hear about your day.

Will we still hang out and talk when I'm no longer in charge?

Winter, I hope you like your name. I hope you let me take a shot with you on your 21st.

He remembered writing this at a small park near his childhood home, turning it in the same day and hoping his teacher wouldn’t talk to him about it. He remembered forcing this piece of paper at the bottom of his bag when he got it back so his father wouldn’t see it, so his brother wouldn’t either and mock him. He had walked into his house, rushing through the hallway to the kitchen where his mother was humming.

“Mum,” He had said, she looked up from the food she was mixing in a bowl and smiled at him. He remembered how vibrant her dark blonde hair was, how his eyes matched hers - how her smile could instantly change his mood. He was a mama’s boy. “I got an A on my assignment.”

She set down her whisk and batted the flour off of her hands onto her apron, moved around the counter as he dug into his bag and handed her the folded paper.

Simon Riley would never forget how his mother had kneeled in front of him, held his hands and whispered, “I can’t wait to meet Winnie, I can’t wait for you to find someone who loves you even more than I do, Simon. You’ll be a good husband, a good father one day. You’ll always be better than him.” She had settled her hands on his face, wiping his tears as she said, “You’ll find her.”

He had planned to call his first daughter Winter, her name staying the same for a nickname. But, he now called his daughter, ‘Winnie’, so that it was like his mother was in his daughter’s life.

Dear Winter, I'm looking for your mom.

I gotta find a girl that doesn't mind that I'm inside my head a lot.

Winter, it won't be too long.

First, I just gotta find your mom.

“Simon.”

He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing your wide smile as your hands settled on your hips.

“Did you find it?”

He didn’t register your words, he just gazed at you. He folded the letter that he had wrote when he was sixteen, the only thing he would’ve ever had hope for was love. That all his teenage self wanted, a family to love and be loved by.

Did you find it? You said.

He wanted to hand you that letter. He wanted you to read the most vulnerable thing he’s ever created - he knew he shouldn’t. But fuck, he wanted to. He shoved the letter into his pocket, and calmly spoke, “No.”

Your face fell, looking deep in thought before you said, “You checked everything up there? I could’ve sworn I went through her whole room…” You began to mumble to yourself as Simon held out his right hand towards you. You immediately stopped talking, gaze looking to his hand then to his masked face. “What?”

He turned his palm towards the ceiling, as if he was asking for your hand. You looked back down at his hand before placing yours on his large palm. He gently curled his fingers around your soft skin and pulled you towards him. You sort of stumbled forwards, your knees now hit the front of the couch and his thighs ghosted the side of yours. His other hand came to gently hold your empty one that was settled by your side.

He could feel your heartbeat quicken as his finger pressed into your wrist. His own heart was beating so fast that he thought he wouldn’t be able to go through with this.

Did you find it?

The picture of you three? Yes, and it made him pull the letter out again. He bit the inside of his cheek before placing it in your palm.

“What is this?” You curiously asked, he gestured for you to open it. He let go of you then, allowing you to read the letter.

His heart was in overdrive as he watched you read it, eyebrows sort of furrowed.

“You asked me if I found it. I didn’t find what Winter wanted, but what I wanted. Want.”

You read the last line and looked up at Ghost, gasping as you now saw his maskless face. His brown eyes watched yours trace his face, commit it to memory. And your right hand reached out, ghosting the skin of his cheek before his own hand pressed it down, his face leaned into your touch. You memorized every white scar, the way his lips curved, his jaw - he was beautiful.

“Tell me if I’m wrong.”

His hand pulled yours from his face, allowing his other hand to place a folded photo on your palm. You took it and opened it, staring at it.

It was the one Christmas that Simon and Winnie had spent with your family. You were looking up at Winnie as the little two year old sat on Simon’s shoulders. She was reaching for you, and then you looked at him in the picture. Even with the balaclava on and his face turned, you could clearly see that he was gazing at you.

Your gaze looked up to Simon again, still amazed at how beautiful he was. You knew him for almost four years, and this was the first time you have ever seen his face. Your heart skipped a few beats as his hand grazed your hip.

Your hand rested on his shoulder, he spoke again. “You. You are what I want.” His other hand settled on your waist, sort of coaxing you closer to him. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his forehead against your stomach. Your hand moved from his shoulders to his dirty blond hair, you gazed down at it as he continued. “I didn’t always want to be a dad, I didn’t want to be after what happened to my family. But when Grace told me that she was pregnant, I ran. I ran away like a fuckin’ coward.” His arm moved from your hip up to hold the small of your back. “I…cared for her, I did. And when she died, I was surprised that I didn’t feel anything about it. Because I had to put all of my focus and strength in my daughter, the same thing you do while I’m gone.” He looked up at you now, his eyes meeting yours. “I care for you. And I can’t go a day without thinking of you.”

“Simon…”

“Please, tell me.” His hands pushed into your skin just a little more. “Tell me if I’m wrong and I will leave you be.”

You stared at him. You would have never expected any sort of confession from him, ever. He was the type to bottle everything up until he rots in a casket - not the type to say what he felt. And to be honest, your heart and stomach both fell from your body. You had pushed that ‘harmless’ crush all the way down into your soul, and here he comes- ripping layers of protection out of your heart and soul.

Your eyes darted to his lips then back up to his beautiful eyes, your thumb gently threaded across the short hair on the back of his head.

“Love me, Simon Riley.”

Oh Winter, I have already found your mom.

———

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley cod #simon riley #simon riley x afab!reader #simon riley call of duty #simon riley mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium

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nebulousbrainsoup · 6 months

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Always, For You.

SUMMARY: For ages, you have taken care of the Crown Prince, helped him escape his worries and the stresses of soon bearing the throne. Tonight, he wants to take care of you. PAIRING: prince!seonghwa x fem!reader GENRE: smut, lil bit of fluff AU/TROPE: royal au, secret lovers/forbidden love WORD COUNT: 2.5k RATING: 18+ TAGS/WARNINGS: pet names (my love, darling, my prince), idiots in love, it's really emotional (but in a good way), not beta'd, probably questionable editing A/N: for @hwaightme || bai, my love, my soulmate, the seong to my joong and one of the kindest people i have ever had the pleasure of knowing; happiest of birthdays to you. thank you for the joy you bring into the lives of others. thank you for being the sweet soul you are. and thank you, eternally, for indulging and encouraging my chaos and bullshit at every possible turn and for going very rapidly from "admired favorite author" to "chaos mutual" to "dear friend". this blog would not be what it is without you, and i cannot thank you enough. much love, and happy birthday <3 smut tags under the cut ; divs from @cafekitsune masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

SMUT TAGS/WARNINGS: momentary dom/sub tones, they're both switches, oral (fem recieving), seonghwa's tongue, pet names (good boy, my prince), no protection (don't do it)

The chill of the approaching winter permeated the air around you, piercing through the thin material of your night dress. Your cheeks surely had a rosy, wind-kissed tint to them, and you could feel the skin of your lower lip chapping as you gnawed at it. The minutes were dragging on like hours as you waited, ever patient, for your lover to emerge from the darkness of the palace gardens. He was not infrequently late; being the prince, he had many responsibilities to take care of before seeing you—but rarely had the sky been dark for so long before his arrival. A shiver coursed through you and you brought your numbing fingers to your lips, breathing warmth back into them.

Your time together was precious and so very limited. You would wait. He had never betrayed your trust before, and he would not do so tonight.

After what may have been hours, quick, light footsteps approached your perch on the same bench you perched on every week, unmistakable as anyone other than the man you awaited. He looked flustered already when he turned the corner, cheeks flushed pink from the brisk night, and he sighed in relief when his gaze fell upon you. You smiled, less warmth and more mischief behind yours, as your mind ran wild at the sight of him.

He was in front of you in two long strides, bowing to press his lips to your knuckles as you rose to your feet. His cloak wound its way around your shoulders, an apology in his sweet brown eyes as he took you in.

“Y/N,” he sighed, breathless, “you waited.”

“Seonghwa,” you smiled, reaching up with your free hand to close the cloak around your shoulders, “you came.”

It was a silly ritual, really, one you would deny if another ever discovered it. You had long since stopped scolding the prince for his whispered apologies at his frequent tardiness, settling instead on a compromise. His greeting, an apology, and yours, a soft abatement of his nerves. You would wait until the end of time for your prince charming.

“You’re near-frozen,” he hummed, clasping your hand between both of his to warm it.

“I’m alright,” you replied, smiling warmly as those wide eyes begged once more for the forgiveness you readily offered. “You made it, my love, that is what matters.”

He beamed, the stars dancing in his eyes as he straightened up. “I have somewhere warm for us tonight, if you would allow me the honor of your company.”

Ever the gentleman, Seonghwa released your hand, offering instead his arm. “The honor would be all mine, Your Highness.” You looped your arm through his, giggling to yourself as his ears turned pink.

You would go anywhere he desired of you.

The one-room cottage you found yourself in was quaint and cozy, a small fire already burning in the hearth when your lover opened the door for you. Grinning once more, you curtsied before you stepped over the threshold, sighing as the warmth in the cottage sank into your bones. Something undefinable tugged at your heart as your eyes roamed the space, noting the small bed pushed into a corner, the lingering scent of dust in the air and—as the centerpiece of Seonghwa’s evening work—-a cozy-looking nest of pillows, cushions and blankets nestled squarely in front of the fire. Huffing out a happy, breathless laugh, you turned back to find him observing you, a coy smile on his face.

“How did you manage this?”

“I nearly didn’t,” he admitted, stepping properly into the space and admiring his handiwork. “Autumn has been shorter than I anticipated. It was my intention to have this place for us before the first freeze, but I’m afraid I didn’t quite reach that goal.”

His eyes had drifted to the floor as he turned back to you. Quietly, you closed the space, cupping his jaw to guide his eyes back to your own. “It’s perfect, Hwa. Thank you.”

The smile that spread across his face warmed you more than the crackling fire. “Anything for you, dearest.”

His eyes darted to your lips as he spoke, and you smiled, once again rolling the bottom one between your teeth. You could feel the way his pulse ticked up under your fingers, and warmth spread through your body. It was a beautiful thing, to be so wanted.

“Anything?” you breathed, barely audible. Still, he nodded. “Then make love to me, my prince.”

He needed no more direction, sealing his lips over your own and pulling you flush against him. A pleased hum passed between your lips at his blatant need, his grip on your waist firm. You sighed into the kiss, arms draping over his shoulders and fingers carding into his hair. With one soft tug, he was melting in your arms, a breathy groan leaving him as you guided him away from you and gestured to the nest he had made.

“Take your boots off and kneel, darling,” you directed, a warm smile still etched onto your features.

Seonghwa was enamored with you, his doe eyes shining as he nodded eagerly and rushed to follow your instructions. Your heart fluttered once again as you watched him obey, slipping your own shoes off and slowly making your way to the fireplace to carefully hang his cloak next to it. When you turned back to him, he was watching you with a steady, half-lidded gaze, hands obediently splayed on his thighs.

You beamed, stepping into the ring of coziness and kneeling in front of him, catching his chin to pull him in for another brief kiss. “There’s my good boy.”

You both heard and felt his breath catch, as he preened at the praise, leaning into your touch. “Always for you, all for you,” he hummed, eyes flickering over your face.

You observed him carefully for a moment, eyes narrowing as his gaze remained sharp, reading you as you were reading him. Many nights, all it took was a single direction and a bit of praise and you had the prince eating out of the palm of your hand. Tonight, though, you could see something different in his gaze—something curious and questioning.

“You’re thinking again,” you murmured, fingers tracing back up his jaw to card into his hair. “This is meant to stop that.”

“It’s not bad, this time,” he hummed, hands leaving his thighs to ghost up your sides. You barely held back a pleasant shiver, raising an eyebrow at both his statement and his bold move. “Let me take care of you tonight,” he muttered, gaze meeting yours once more, “Let me do for you what you do for me.” He shifted from his position, kneeling up to loom over you, and you felt your stomach flip. “Let me worship every inch of your body and treat you tonight like the queen I will one day make you.”

All of your usual bravado was gone, the persona you had so carefully built for your encounters with Seonghwa ripped to shreds with a few pretty words. You heaved a shaky, breathless sigh and nodded. “Yes.”

His lips met yours once more the instant the word left your mouth, hands wrapping firmly around your torso. You pressed yourself against him until every possible inch of your body was flush with his own, grip firm in his hair and on his shoulder. Slowly, gently, he shifted, laying you back into the bed he had made for you as though you would shatter. His hands roamed over you, his touch feather-light as he explored your body. For the first time in your memory with Seonghwa, you were the first to break the kiss. You parted from him with a gasp and a heady whine, grip tightening against his scalp as he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck. As his lips worked lower, his hands slipped higher, sneaking under the thin cotton of your night dress to slide up your thighs. You sighed, pleased, and felt him moan against your collar bone as he found your ass bare. His eyes flickered up to your own, pleading with you, and you grinned. Perhaps tonight would not be so different, after all.

You had a special, particular relationship with the Crown Prince. Never in your memory had he taken control of you in any aspect; you were always the one to take care of him. His daily duties weighed upon him heavily; any courtesan or servant with a working set of eyes and a brain could see that. One passing comment about helping His Highness get out of his head and he had begun sending you missives, calling for you to meet him in the gardens after sundown. You could remember the first night you spent with him as though it were yesterday, little more than a conversation and a chaste kiss shared between the two of you. Oh, how beautifully had he blossomed.

Now, there was no rosy coloring to the tips of his ears as he lifted you from the makeshift mattress and tugged your night dress over your head, dropping it carelessly to the side. Now, the eyes that once looked at you with trepidation and abashment burned into you hungrily as his lips reattached to your skin at the earliest opportunity. You whined in protest as you were left bare to him, an unfamiliar sound that had him halting in his tracks for only a moment before his mind registered your shaking hands, tugging frantically at the buttons on his uniform coat. He chuckled quietly, sitting back on his heels to do the work for you.

“I never thought you would let me have you like this,” he admitted, a sheepish smile gracing his delicate features. “Thank you.”

His pause was long enough for you to take a deep breath and gather yourself just enough to smirk at him, the hand still on him tracing lower to press against his arousal. “I know you’ll make it worth my while, won’t you, my prince?”

Your words seemed to douse the flames behind his eyes in kerosene, his jaw tensing as he stripped his upper half with more urgency. “I will make tonight worth every minute you have ever waited for me.”

Within seconds, his coat had been stripped away and his undershirt quickly followed, each finding their way to the floor. He dropped just as rapidly to settle his face between your thighs, pupils lust-blown as he glanced up at you. For the first time since you had begun this relationship, he asked for no permission before pressing his tongue against your core and lapping a fat stripe up it. The moan that ripped from your throat at the combined sensation and unfamiliar position had him humming happily against you, eyes slipping shut in bliss as he began to work you over. Seonghwa could die happily between your thighs, he thought. There was something intoxicating about your scent, your taste, and each time he found himself in this position, it took every bit of his willpower not to stay there the whole night.

Tonight, though, he could do just that.

His moans buzzed through you pleasantly and your hands once again anchored themselves in his hair, grounding you against the onslaught of pleasure as that devilishly talented tongue of his fucked into you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his lips and chin as he lapped and sucked at your clit, interspersing the intense waves of pleasure with the kinder, gentler sensation of dipping into your entrance. You sighed and squirmed under his attention, fingers tugging gently at his scalp in encouragement. He was practically purring as he drank you in eagerly, lust-drunk gaze locked onto your expression while your legs closed tighter around his head. Within mere minutes, you were falling over the peak of your orgasm, grip vice-like in Seonghwa’s hair as you held him still—though, if his moans were any indication, he wouldn’t move if he could.

That sinful, skilled tongue laved at you until you were a whimpering mess, palm pressing against his forehead to nudge him away as overstimulation began to take hold. He gasped for breath as he relented, turning his head to press a soft kiss to the inside of each of your thighs. Your chest heaved as your eyes blinked open, a fresh wave of arousal making you shudder at the dark, hungry gaze fixed on you.

“I could die happily between your legs,” he muttered, voice hoarse and laden with arousal.

“Seonghwa,” you sighed, reaching forward to drag him into a messy kiss. The taste of your arousal lingered on his tongue, now sliding between your lips the same way it had parted your folds. Gripping his hair tighter, you reluctantly dragged him back, taking a shaky breath to steady yourself. “I need you.”

Your plea came out breathless, saturated in need and, when paired with your nails dragging over the front of his pants, it was impossible for your lover to misunderstand it. It was his turn to breathe a shaky exhale, gentle hands pressing you back into the now disheveled nest until he could rise to his knees. You watched him carefully, an appreciative half-smile stuck on your face as he rid himself of the rest of his clothes. He was beautiful in every situation, in every light, but tonight, with the dancing firelight bathing him in gold and casting twisting patterns over his skin, he was a work of art that should be immortalized in a gallery.

The warmth of the fire when combined with his body heat was overwhelming in the best way, just the right side of suffocating to push all other thoughts from your mind. He captured your lips firmly as he once more caged you in, filling you perfectly as your hips met. Pleased sounds left your lips in unison when he began to move; strong, slow rolls of his hips that had you arching up into him. Little time passed before your kiss dissolved into nothing more than panting against each other’s mouths, and you fell back to the ground, content to lock your eyes instead of your lips. His intensity had you short of breath; this ethereal man, the Crown Prince, was looking down at you as though you had hung the stars in the sky.

With a tight, high whine, your second high of the night crashed into you, fingers tightening in his hair again. Your shared gaze did not break as he quickly followed you over his own peak, his mouth dropping open and brows creasing in pleasure.

When you both came back down to earth, neither of you let the other go, bodies tired and satiated, the warmth of the fire lulling you both into a sleepy state. Your time together would be cut short soon, you knew, but you let yourself bask in peace for now.

His whisper cut through the quiet like thunder, “One day, I will have you. My promises are not empty. I will move mountains to have you by my side. I will do anything, my love.”

You could hear the tension in his voice, the tears gathering at his water line. Shifting up, you pressed your lips to his to silence him. “Will you stay, then?”

He smiled, the dying flames beside you dancing in his eyes. “Always, for you.”

In the aftermath, wrapped soundly in his arms, you let yourself believe.

TAGLISTS: [open, apply here]

permanent: @justhere4kpop @thatonenoona @tastymintchocolate @bahng-chrizz @elllisaaa ateez: @pyeonghongrie-main @tattywood special: @pocketsky

strikethrough : unable to tag

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

Harry Styles x British Royal!Reader

Her Royal Highness Princess YN, daughter to Prince Charles and late Princess Diana, Prince and Princess of Wales, younger sister to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex, and granddaughter to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and His Royal Highness Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh would’ve never thought to meet Harry Styles by accident—by literally running into him. And Harry Styles would’ve never thought to meet the Princess of England again after that seemingly fateful afternoon.

faceclaim: Saoirse Ronan

author’s note: I’m really super excited for this one, but please bear with me if I don’t get the titles right. I’m still putting more knowledge into my head about it! This work is pure fiction and entirely self-indulgent on my behalf.

series masterlist » ch. 1 is here!

;

theroyalfamily Happy 27th Birthday Princess YN! 🎂

📸 Chris Jackson (chrisjacksongetty) and the Duke of Sussex, earlier this month.

Liked by ynismyqueen, yourfan1, hsfan1, royalistsbitch, mrsamclaflin, gemmastyles, and 986,351 others | 334,009 comments

hsfan1 It’s Her Highness’s birthday AND Fine Line got released today - this is the best day of my life. Happy Birthday!

ynismyqueen HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY QUEEN

yourfan1 Happy Birthday, Your Highness!

yourfan2 She looks SO stunning! Happy Birthday, YN!

yourfan3 How is it possible that she looks so much like her mother 🥺 Happy Birthday, princess ❤️

↳ dianaforever right? I thought the same, especially while I looked through the older pictures and the more recent ones. Diana’s genes really said “Excuse me, that’s my spot” while creating this angel of a woman 🥺

liked by yourfan3, yourfan1, hsfan1, and royalistsbitch

↳ yourfan3 Totally 🥹

hsfan2 Fine Line release, Gemma liked this post, what a day. Now I’m waiting for Harry to like this one too, so my shipper-brain can go into a frenzy 💀

liked by hsfan1 and hsfan3

mrsamclaflin I wish you a very Happy Birthday, Your Royal Highness 🎂

↳ everyonesfan And there he is! Like always: on time ❤️

liked by mrsamclaflin, yourfan1, and yourfan2

↳ mrsamclaflin Of course!

liked by everyonesfan and yourfan3

royalistsbitch Can you marry me, my princess? 🥺😮‍💨 HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

;

The morning of her birthday was always a hectic matter. One could easily mistake this particular day for the birthday of the Queen herself, but in reality, it was only the result of a family who deeply adores the youngest child of Prince Charles and Princess Diana. But the royal protocol was still in place—not even the Princess of England could change that on her special day. That’s why her entire day was strictly and thoroughly planned, except for a few hours in the morning after her Lady of the Bedchamber had woken the princess to begin the day. Her Mistress of the Robes had already hung the several cautiously put-together outfits at the beautifully crafted screen separating the space in front of the closet from the rest of the dressing room. One look at them, and the princess sighed deeply after crawling out under the thick blankets dominating the comfortable bed. The outfits were nice, of course, but the meaning behind two out of the three meant official duties because, after twenty-six years inside this family, she knew how to figure out her day at the sight of clothing pieces. At least one piece each was in her favorite color, even though the entire attire reminded her of her Granny.

Another sigh left the princess, but the one present thought—I want to go back to bed—vanished at the prospect of a beautiful winter day with blue sky, fluffy, sheep-like clouds, and the sun shining down on busy London. Leaning against the wall next to the grand windows stretching from almost the floor up to two-thirds of the high ceiling, YN looked out of it, straight onto the usually beautiful garden, but now all she saw was bare trees and brown grass. Her face immediately showed the displeasure at the sight. She loved Kensington, she really did, but the winter-y gloom made everything dull and unpleasant. Even though she was born in December, YN most definitely wasn’t a winter child—she preferred spring and summer over anything else.

The soft knock at the French door leading into her apartment let YN turn around with a grin. “Come in!” Her voice traveled towards the waiting party of three men in front of her humble home, and after one of the doors got opened, a head with tousled red hair peeked inside. As soon as his eyes fell onto the youngest Mountbatten-Windsor of the trio, his lips stretched into a wide grin. “There she is! Our birthday girl,” he exclaimed and pushed the door wide open to reveal a smiling William and an as bright as his sons smiling Charles.

Harry looked at the other two expectantly after his father had closed the door, and moving his arms in a counting manner, the younger prince started to count. “And one, two, three…” Suddenly the three men began to sing.

“Happy Birthday to You

Happy Birthday to You

Happy Birthday Dear YN

Happy Birthday to You!”

Grinning and chuckling, YN clapped excitedly, face beaming with utmost joy. She jumped into her eldest brother’s arms and hugged him close as he kissed her head softly. “Happy Birthday, sunshine,” he wished her, and the woman kissed his cheek. “Thank you, old man,” she returned with a grin while William only rolled his eyes.

Harry grinned as brightly and wide as she did, passing the cupcake with the already lit candle and an envelope with a massive bow to William before hugging her close and lifting her off the ground, her feet dangling under her dark blue robe in the air. “Happy Birthday, jellybean.” YN pressed her lips to his bearded cheek and grinned even wider. “Did you plan this little get-together?” The middle child of them nodded proudly. “You can bet on it. Dear Willy over there tried to talk me out of it because he thought you’d be sleeping in. I told him it would be bollocks because you, dear sister, never stop working.” William scoffed, and they both turned to him. “Excuse me and my assumptions that someone would let her sleep in on her special day.” Charles laughed softly behind his hand before opening his arms and wrapping his youngest child into a loving hug. “You know how it goes, boys,” he told the two princes and gently kissed YN's forehead. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” he wished her and kissed her forehead another time. “Thank you, papa,” YN spoke silently and nuzzled into the warm embrace.

Ever since returning from Oxford, the father-daughter duo had spent less time than usual together because they had been both busier than normal. With her degrees in Politics and International Relations and Literature—the latter had been her choice of study—she suddenly had sort of acquired a new status within the Royal Family. She had tended to her charitable work but had also spent more time with the reception of political figures and had pushed herself into a new field of charities: political education among the students in their country. And Charles had attended his appointments and public functions as Prince of Wales.

It was good to feel his hug again. It had always been one the safest places on earth for the princess.

William cleared his throat to continue with the program in the form of cake and presents. Well, a cupcake and one present. The rest would have to wait until YN’s duties were fulfilled and the entire family would come together. The planned dinner would be the grandest in a long time.

“So, we put our heads together for this present, and it was the only thing we could come up with because everything else was already stolen by the rest of the lot—and Harry over there can call himself lucky for coming up with at least one idea,” William explained while holding the envelope up, but Harry swatted his hand and took the plate with the cupcake in his own hands. “Will you let her at least blow the candle and wish for something before you jump directly to the next point on the list? Thank you very much. And thanks for the hit. Welcome to the Sleep Deprivation Society, my ass.” Shaking his head in exaggeration—William only laughed under his breath while Charles threw his two sons' scolding looks— the redhead held the cupcake right in front of her face, the purple and white swirled candle still with a flame on top of it. “Go on, jellybean,” he smiled down at the blonde woman, and YN closed her eyes before blowing the candle out, and the men started to clap.

Smiling, she opened them again and clapped both hands. “You were saying something about this envelope, Will?” Excitement was clearly visible in her bright eyes and the eldest chuckled before passing it to her. “It’s from all three of us.” Nodding, she grinned at every man in their small round. “Thank you,” she already said, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Open it first before thanking us,” he teased her, and with a breathless bit to her lower lip, YN opened the envelope with much more force than needed and let the paper slowly fall to the carpet under her bare feet.

Her eyes widened as soon as they realized what she held in her hands, and with a squeal, the princess started to jump up and down. “It is… it is…” She couldn’t bring the sentence to an end, too overwhelmed and excited to utter a coherent one. The brothers and the father exchanged proud looks before turning back to the still-squealing princess. “You really got me a ticket for Harry Styles?!” YN still couldn’t believe it even though she held the paper in her very own hands.

Charles softly stroked her blonde hair. “Your grandfather told me something fundamental, and that was to let you live your life. I know you miss your studies dearly, the life you had in Oxford, the freedom. That is why I will try to give this back to you, even if it’s only for a couple of hours or days at a time.” With nothing but wonder, YN stared up at her father, not knowing where all of this was coming from so suddenly. But she hadn’t to ask at the same time because she knew her grandpapa and how he wanted for every single one of them to gain a small amount of freedom back, but especially for her—the baby of the family.

It was freedom in moderation, of course, but YN had learned over the years that this was the best she could get. So she embraced the little independence she could acquire between the Royal Protocol and her family, the public eye, and her duties because she never wanted to end like her beloved mother.

Her arms wrapped around the older man and held him close. “Thank you, papa,” she whispered into the soft cotton of his vest and felt his hand stroking her back. “Not for this, sweetheart. Not for wanting a piece of normality in your life.”

;

vogue_uk We had the utmost honor to interview Her Royal Highness, Princess YN. We talked about the life of a “modern” princess, how life in Buckingham Palace has shaped her and her interests, and we even tickled out the answer to our question about which of her Christmas presents she loved the most—and which member of the Royal Family had gifted it.

Click the link in our bio to see|read the full interview with Princess YN!

PS: The Princess of England is funnier than most people.

Liked by hsfan1, yourfan1, ynismyqueen, royalistsbitch, gemmastyles, and 879,774 others | 258,691 comments

vogue_uk “I will probably shock the world in its very foundations with this answer, but my most loved present this year was by far the Fine Line vinyl Will [His Royal Highness, Prince William] gifted me—the gorgeous limited edition, you know which one, don’t you? The stunning black and white? Yes, exactly this one. Now everyone probably will ask themselves, ‘Why didn’t she buy it herself on the release day?’ Well, for that, you have to understand our family traditions: We swore an oath never to buy the things we like to have about which we already have talked in the past, so no one will feel the embarrassment of a mediocre excited face on Christmas Morning because one already got it themself. It’s the most horrendous feeling in existence—well, during Christmas and birthdays, at least.”

ynandharryshipper The princess probably woke up the morning of the interview and thought to herself, “I wanna see this internet burn,” and then casually proceeded with her plan😮‍💨

↳ yourfan1 Totally 😂

hsfan1 Did YN, the Princess of England, seriously tell the world that she loves Harry Styles??????? I never expected to admire and love one of the Royals, but here we go.

ynismyqueen “The album has run on repeat ever since Christmas Morning. Granny [Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II] told Grandpapa [His Royal Highness, Prince Philip] to find her some earplugs. Not because she dislikes Mr. Styles’ voice, but because she rather prefers not to have to throw the turntable out of Balmoral—she doesn’t like to hear things in a loop. She is very happy now that I’ve returned to Kensington [Palace], and I am happy that I can hear Fine Line now on full volume.” - She is such a mood :D

↳ hsfan2 Damn, this woman really said I am a Harrie and proud of it! 😩

royalistsbitch Can we quickly talk about how bloody authentic she is??? She is definitely the most down-to-earth royal of the lot 😍

↳ yourfan2 +1! Directly followed by Kate!

liked by royalistsbitch

dailymail Harry Styles is back in the UK!

Singer-songwriter Harry Styles is back in London after recording—and releasing—his new album Fine Line in his Californian home. Styles interacted with his fans on his way to the BBC Radio 1 studio for an interview about his new album and plans for upcoming events and tours.

Liked by hsfan1, hsfan2, hsfan3, ynismyqueen, sunflowerbutterfly, and 5,613 others | 1,994 comments

hsfan1 There will be a listening WITH HIM IN THE SAME ROOM?! Where do I get that ticket????? 😭

↳ hsfan2 it’s a strictly limited amount because it’s supposed to be something more private and home-y feeling. That’s why I don’t believe I will be a lucky one, but hey, I will keep my eyes open 👀

↳ hsfan1 Oooooh, okay. Maybe it’s only for selected people, then? We’ll see!

ynismyqueen I am SO sure that YN is sucking those new pictures up like oxygen 😮‍💨

liked by hsfan1, royalistsbitch, sunflowerbutterfly, and 8 others

↳ hsfan3 I’m sure of it! He looks damn handsome (as always) and so cuddle-able ❤️

yn_and_harryshipper He looks exceptionally good today 😩 And the plaid coat??? The princess will love this 🥺

;

The ringing of her phone securely tucked onto the docking station to charge ripped YN out of her hard-working mind, and her fingers’ movements faltered atop the keyboard. With an “Alexa, please stop the music”—she was polite even to a plastic thing that could talk to her—she paused at Sunflower, Vol. 6 and picked up her phone to accept the call of her best friend.

“To what do I owe the honor of your call, Mylady?” YN greeted Meredith Brisbane, her former dorm companion in Oxford and study mate in her Literature major, with a more nasally voice than ever. The princess knew that she sounded like a character straight out of a Jane Austen novel naturally, but well, she couldn’t do much about her upbringing now.

Better to embrace and sometimes overact it a bit.

But Meredith only laughed at the other end of the call because she was definitely used to it by now. “Well, I wanted to hear if my best friend is still alive and not already drowned in work—.” At that, YN scoffed softly, eyes settling on her calendar, which was full of post-its and scribbles, and she knew with certainty that her assistant had even more events and appointments where her presence was required. Meredith hummed in understanding. “I know that sound; you don’t have to say more. And then I wanted to ask if you checked the Gram already.” The princess was now intrigued at the second question and rummaged through the stuff on her desk to find the case with her AirPods. After finding them, she popped them in and held the phone between both hands to log into her secret Instagram account faster.

It sucked that the members of the Royal Family weren’t allowed to have public and known social media accounts because she really wanted to share certain aspects with the public to finally lift the myth and stop the assumptions made by others. But after one argument over dinner with her Granny, followed by a rebuke from her and one from Camilla, she never spoke of it again in their presence. Even the staff of the official Royal Family social media accounts had a word with her over tea. Ever since YN kept her mouth shut about this particular topic and enjoyed the freedom of her little secret Instagram account with the incredible follower number of 11 people.

“What am looking fo-… nevermind!”

With wide eyes, YN stared at her feed full of a smiling Harry Styles in a blue and yellow plaid coat, sunglasses in fluffy brown locks, and the signature pearl necklace around his neck. Reading the several headlines, she knew that he was back in the UK, in London. They shared a time zone and city again, and the princess grinned like an imbecile at her screen.

Meredith’s chuckle echoed through the AirPods. “I saw them plop up one after the next and had to tell you. My friend Daniel—I told you about him, right?” YN hummed softly before she perked up. “The one working for BBC Radio?” Her best friend agreed. “Yep! He wrote me a few minutes ago that there will be a small listening event for Fine Line? Limited number of tickets, super small, one can have a conversation with him if one is lucky enough, the whole thing.” Now, YN shot up from her chair in front of the desk and stared straight out of the window, eyes even wider. “Do you know how they will get sold?” Crossing her fingers, YN hoped Mer would’ve all the answers to her biggest dream. But the sigh was answer enough. “Nope, sorry, sweets. But I will keep my eyes open and send you the link as soon as I stumble over it, ‘promise.”

And YN knew that Meredith would always keep her promises, so she sat down again and sighed deeply. “He looks so good. How is that even possible?” Propping her chin on one of her hands, the other hand still held onto the smartphone, and her thumb scrolled through every single newly released picture of Harry bloody Styles.

Plaid suits him, the princess thought with a small smile before focusing on the call again.

“I’m asking that same question every time I see a picture of you, sweets. Is it genetics? God-given? Magic? Witchcraft? Tell me all your secrets.” YN could hear the grin of her best friend through the phone. Shrugging, she leaned back in her chair. “It’s a talent,” the blonde spoke dramatically, and the two women started to laugh until their stomachs hurt.

“But seriously,” YN started again after wiping the tears from under her eyes. “He looks better every year. Though I miss the long hair One Direction era.” Those lush brown locks were a sight to behold, and she still had a poster with long-haired Harry somewhere hidden in her closet. She heard Meredith type on her laptop before she Aaaaah-d in realization. “Now I know what you mean. And yes, I have to agree. Those long hair really suited him. Maybe he would let it grow back if the Princess of England asked him personally? In a letter, maybe? With one of those fancy wax seals?” YN would like to tell her best friend that her family did not use wax seals since the last century, but she knew better. One look in the upper drawer to her left would prove her words wrong. “I don’t think he answers to desperate pleas of desperate princesses who had an unhealthy obsession with his former boy group as a teenager.” No, she didn’t suspect Harry Styles for someone who bends easily to other wills. He would never have gotten this far and been as successful as he was at such a young age if it had been different.

“Well, it’s worth a try. But hey, YNN?” The princess hummed in question while liking every single picture on her run through her feed. “Don’t work too much, yeah? I have the feeling I’m the one responsible for keeping your habits in check, and I can practically see the smoke emitting from your overworked brain till the other end of London.” YN could hear the worry in her friend’s voice, so she smiled softly. Meredith really let her feel loved and cherished without demanding the impossible. “Will do, pumpkin. I love you, you know that, don’t you?”

While waiting for an answer, the princess started to save every document she worked on today to call it a day and maybe hide in the library to reread Pride and Prejudice. She could use some romantic fairytale and a brooding Mr. Darcy—because her life most definitely wasn’t a romantic fairytale. “I know, sweets. And I love you too. We should grab dinner sometime. How about Thursday?” Grinning, YN closed her laptop and logged out of Instagram on her phone. “Sounds great. I’m open for anything as long as it’s nothing resembling seafood or some artistic bollocks I am supposed to only stare at but not eat it.” She knew that Mer grinned widely at this moment. “Please, I never take you to those fancy restaurants where you should preferably make a reservation in the last century. Nah-ah, we’re going to widen your culinary horizon of peasant food further. How about Burger King?”

;

dailymail Princess YN was spotted today with friend Meredith Brisbane in the City of London, London!

Liked by gemmastyles, yourfan1, yourfan2, royalistsbitch and 11,980 others | 5,452 comments

yourfan1 YN rocks that jacket

royalistsbitch Damn, not sure if I want to be that jacket or her best friend.

↳ ynismyqueen Having the same trouble over here.

yourfan2 I WASNT SURE IF I REALLY SAW HER BUT IT WAS REALLY HER THEN

↳ ynismyqueen YOU SAW HER????!!!

↳ yourfan2 I did! I was in the same bookshop as she and Meredith! And she had a huge stack of novels in her arms (with a lot of good titles, if I may say so) 😍

yourfan3 She gets more beautiful every day 🥹

↳ yourfan4 truuuuuuue 😮‍💨

↳ yourfan5 She is like the epitome of princess-ness ❤️

gemmastyles I am unsure if I want to be that jacket or if I want to have that jacket.

↳ hsfan1 GEMMA IS HERE!

;

“I am not sure if I want to be that jacket or if I want to have that jacket.” Gemma Styles spoke up, her phone in hands, while she sat on the couch at her mother’s house. She could hear commotion in the adjacent kitchen before her mother came into the living room, a dish towel thrown over her right shoulder. “What did you say, darling?” Anne asked and stopped behind the couch to see what her daughter had seen on her phone. Gemma pointed to the screen where Instagram was opened, and the Princess of England, wearing an oversized jeans jacket with colorful shoulders, was seen. Anne hummed and eyed the picture intently. “It suits her very well,” she decided, and Gemma nodded. “It really does! She is so effortlessly beautiful, just as Harry is. This is unfair.” Gemma sighed, and her mother chuckled. “Don’t be so harsh to yourself, love. You are just as beautiful as she is.”

The reassuring sound was interrupted by an entering Harry.

“Gemma is as beautiful as who? Me?” He grinned, and his sister rolled her eyes at his antics. “Very funny, Harold,” Gemma returned and threw a pillow in his vague direction, which he caught mid-air. “But for your information, I meant her.” And with that, his sister almost shoved the phone in his face after he had plopped down onto the couch next to the brunette. Harry got a hold of it before it fell him on the nose and stared at the familiar feed of Instagram with an even more familiar face.

His teenage crush was suddenly right in front of him again.

It was a strange feeling to see that face again after his time oversea, where news about the Royal Family was as scarce as rain in Death Valley. Well, he never was a huge fan of gossip, but her face always stood out—not because of negative headlines, quite the opposite, except that one time he could remember vividly because the entire country had been in shock.

Shaking his head, Harry tried to push those thoughts away because he was painfully aware of the stares his sister and mother gave him. Everyone in his family knew about that silly little crush of his.

“Yeah, she is gorgeous, you are gorgeous, everyone is gorgeous,” he mumbled, thoughts still not back on track. Gemma grinned at that. “Does someone still has a crush?” She almost sang the last word, and Harry nudged his laughing sister in the side until she fell to the side and landed on the decorative couch pillows. “Stop it, G. ‘S not funny.” He was almost embarrassed.

He was a worldwide known and successful 25-years old singer; he was a grown man. He shouldn’t have crushes on princesses or actresses or actors or princes. It was stupid.

His mom softly caressed his fluffy hair before bending down and pressing a kiss on his head. “It’s totally fine to have crushes, love, even if one is a grown adult.” It was as if she could read his mind, but she was his mother, after all; the one human he told everything that happened in his life. Scoffing, he slouched in the soft furniture and shrugged. “Still, I don’t know what you mean,” he tried to escape this topic by turning the tv on—but there her face was plastered over the news because, unlike the other years before, the New Year’s charity gala where she would be the main speaker was supposed to get broadcasted.

He really couldn’t escape his heavily—but foolishly—beating heart.

;

I am so excited for this small series and hope you liked the prologue! As usual: comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated :3

Taglist: @onecrazydirectioner

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natashaslesbian · 6 months

Note

Hi! 😊

I don't know if your requests are still open but I am just going to leave my request here just in case they are.

So this is a Mama!Nat request where Y/N (kid, around the age of 6 or 7 if it's possible) celebrates her birthday while she's on the run in Norway with her Mama and Natasha tries to make Y/N's day as happy as possible, even managing to buy a cake for her daughter as a surprise alongside a new teddy bear.

I understand if the requests are closed or if you don't want to write this. Thank you so much for your time and I want you to know that I'm a big fan of your work! It's absolutely amazing!!! Sending lots of love 😊🧡

7 Laps Around The Sun

A/N: I absolutely adored this request and loved writing it, thank you sm! This isn’t proof read so please don’t mind any mistakes or typos :))

Word Count: 964

Parings (Mom!Natasha x Daughter!Reader) (Nat x Mason) (referenced to Clint and blackhill)

Warnings: none :))

————

The door to the trailer creaked louder than ever. Why was it always when someone is trying to be quiet things make the most noise. Natasha pulled the heavy door to a close with one hand, the other carrying a large plastic bag of supplies. The redhead heard small shuffles from your shared bedroom and paused her movements, you must have settled again immediately as Nat didn’t hear anything else throughout the cold trailer. Norway was always cold but especially in late autumn, the widow would have to find another safe house to take you too, it was relatively safe here but the winter was fast approaching and Natasha wasn’t going to let you, her daughter, go cold all season.

A while later you stirred again, rolling over to mamas side of the bed. The mattress was cold beneath the sheets, it told you that Natasha wasn’t there. “Mommy” you quietly called out, eyes still shut and your grip tight on the purple baby blanket. Oh how you missed Jimmy, your beloved stuff bear, there just wasn’t any time to grab him before you left. you peeled your eyes open to the dimly lit room “Mamma” you called louder. The doors angle increased and your favourite person appeared “hey there beautiful, did you have a good sleep?” Natasha asked. You hummed and opened your arms wide for a cuddle. Mommy came and scooped you up tightly “happy birthday baby” she said as she tickled your belly. Today you were 7 years old, you felt so grown up, but this birthday was defiantly going to be different. “Thank you mommy” you said as you slid down her slender frame “can I have the chocolate cereal today? As I’m 7 now!” You begged at your mamas hip bone. Natasha had promised that as you were away from home this year you could have a special cereal as a birthday treat, she never let you have anything chocolaty before midday! It was the best she could offer until she laid sleepless last night with a new idea.

“I told you not to knock!” Natasha said as she opened the trailer door “sorry” Mason whispered “I forgot” Natasha stepped out of the door, making sure each lock was secure “ok, just sit here and don’t go inside, y/n’s a heavy sleeper so she shouldn’t wake up” the fugitive explained “I’ll be as quick as I can, there’s a 24 hour store about 20 minutes away so I’ll be like an hour tops” “ok all clear, I’ll be here”

“Actually sweetheart, I have a little surprise for you” your mama said. You eyes and ears perched up “really? What is it mama!” You exclaimed “come with me baby” Natasha said as she took hold of your small hand, wrapping her fingers around your knuckles. Mommy lead you into the main section of the trailer and you let out a loud yelp when you saw the array of pink and purple balloons gently rolling around the room in the dull wind. You looked up at the walls to find a huge banner displaying a sparkly ‘happy birthday’. You were truly amazed, when had your mama had time to do all this? “What do you think y/n?” Nat said “I love it! Thank you so much mommy!” You beamed. “You are very welcome darling” Natasha said as she hoisted you up onto her hip “but guess what?” You perched up immediately “wha mama!” You asked “there’s one more surprise, over by the fridge” your mommy said as she carried you towards the old grayed out refrigerator.

“Cake cake cake!” You exclaimed upon seeing the bright pink sparkly birthday cake, topped with sprinkles and a wonky 7. “I know this birthday is a bit different, but my baby girl always has a birthday cake, no matter what” Nat would move heaven and earth for you. “Wait mama look!” You said as you little feet pattered on the floor after escaping Natasha’s grip “a stuffy bear!” Just left of the cake was a light brown bear, tag still connected to its ear. “So there is!” Mama said, pretending she had no idea where he had come from “someone special must’ve left him for you” she didn’t like to lie, but Natasha just wanted you to have a little magic in your life “maybe uncle Clint?” You questioned “maybe, what are you going to name him?” You hummed for a moment “Peter! Because Peter is my favourite and I miss him” you said, a hint of sadness in your tone, Nat frowned. “That’s a perfect name”

“Who’s that?” You said after hearing three consecutive knocks on the door, Masons secret code to let Natasha know there was no danger. “Well if we’re going to have a party then we need guests” Your mama said as she opened the door to the strange man you’d never seen before “hello there y/n” he said, a little box in his right hand “is that a present?” You said, giving him mommy’s signature smirk “yes it is” Mason said, standing awkwardly at the door frame, his hand way too close to your mom “hey!” You said, alerting the two adults “are you mommy’s boyfriend?” You innocently asked, the pair stood in a slight uncomfortable silence, soon breaking into laughter “no, he’s not y/n” Natasha said as she came to scoop you up once again “then why is he looking at you the same way Maria does? Does he kiss you too?” Natasha couldn’t help but giggle, slightly sad because she was missing her ‘almost’ girlfriend. “Yep, she’s defiantly your daughter” Mason said, Natasha shot him daggers “is it cake time yet?” You said with a huff and a pout “yes baby, it’s cake time”

#marvel #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel fic #nat x reader #avengers #natasha x little!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #clint barton #blackhill #maria hill

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alaezasmystery235 · 1 year

Text

rules, disclaimer and notes ☆

[ Disclaimer ] : this reading was made for entertainment purposes only. this is obviously a general reading so takes what resonates and leave when it doesn't, you don't need to force your energy to read this and leave such a bad comment just to say it doesn't resonates with you at all because the answer is very obvious!

lastly, be happy and enjoy reading my works — feedbacks, comments, likes, reblogs and follows are really appreciated by the reader. (that's me, lol :3)

[ source and creditable ] : All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from 'pinterest' i don't own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits goes and belong to me only @alaezasmystery . I use the editor tools canva and kapwing for the header and divider.

Extra credit to @daninixx for giving permission to use her rules and disclaimer.

｡˚ 𓂋 🍋﹒✦﹒✿ ˚

ＰＩＬＥ 1

LOVES LOVES LOVES Coffee

Has long hair , straight and soft

Winter is prominent , May have their birthday or it's their fav season . Also loves Christmas !!

Height is between 5'10 - 6'1

Plays guitar or takes singing lessons

Work related to healing , crafting or humanity

Has an outgoing personality. But doesn't indulge in social functions often

May have a brother or sibling whom they trusts the most

Loves beaches and spends time in solitude

Smells good and has a clean cut , Muscular fit .

Their spirit animal can be Bear and Spider

Very very good at sex .

Green Blue eyes . Specs are coming for some .

Has won some medals or prizes on sports such as swimming , yoga or HITs .

Loves savory foods and often dines at fine restaurants

May keep charms or souvenirs for luck . I'm getting some kind of family heirloom

Aesthetic Vibes :- Softcore & 90s

Their handwriting can be small in font and slanting .

Places I got = Turkey , Israel , Japan

Zodiac signs = Taurus , Sagittarius , Aries

ＰＩＬＥ 2

Quite different from your usual types

Has a big friend circle / Friendly & Outgoing

Loves astronomy . Possibility of being a starseed.

Full of surprises and enjoy life to the fullest

virgin and have a high sex drive

Height can be between 5 '7 - 5' 8

Fashionista . Loves mainly caps and bracelets

Divine Connection . Has witchy vibes .

Loves animals and wants a pet

Curly short healthy hair . Black and Red are prominent .

Graduated . Has some kind of major . OR just finished college

Not too old & young . Age between 22- 27 .

Loves Cars and bikes in colours blue / White .

Aesthetic vibes :- Dark Academia & Glam

Always on the GO !!! Doesn't like lazy people .

Has some mommy issues .

Intimidating , Majesty and model vibes

Loves to compose either books or music

Very pretty hands and nails

Places I got = USA , Florida , Brazil , Northampton

Zodiac signs = Leo , Scorpio , Aquarius , Pisces

©️ @alaezasmystery 2023

｡˚ 𓂋 🍋﹒✦﹒✿ ˚

#pick a pile #pick a card #pick a photo #pick a pile reading #pick a card reading #future spouse #future partner #soulmate #channeled message #aesthetic pictures #free tarot reading #tarot reading #tarot readings #tarot community #intuitive #love #alaezasmystery

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amalythea · 2 months

Text

「 snowed in 」

⤷ info: albedo x gn!reader || tooth rotting fluff || wc: 506

⤷ warnings: none!!

⤷ extra: happy birthday @thexianzhoujade !!

High atop Dragonspine, where the icy winds howled and the snow-capped peaks reached towards Celestia, you and Albedo trekked through the cold terrain, your breath forming misty clouds in the frigid air.

As you ascended higher and higher, the landscape transformed into a winter wonderland, with crystalline snowflakes swirling around you in a delicate dance, and you marveled at the breathtaking beauty of your surroundings.

You’d promised to help your lover with his research today and you were determined to keep that promise.

Despite the biting cold outside, the interior of his workshop was warm and inviting, illuminated by the soft glow of alchemical lamps and the occasional crackling fire in the hearth. You went inside, Albedo close on your heels, the warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace after braving the icy winds outside. The air was filled with the faint scent of parchment and the tang of alchemical reagents, a reminder of the ceaseless experimentation that filled these walls.

Albedo moved with purpose, his steps confident and measured as he navigated the space with the familiarity of someone who had spent countless hours immersed in his work. His workspace was a reflection of his meticulous nature, every tool and ingredient meticulously arranged for easy access, yet bearing the subtle marks of a creative mind at play. As he gestured towards a cluttered table littered with sketches and diagrams, his eyes alight with excitement, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation, knowing that today would be nothing if not interesting.

But as time went on, the weather took a sudden turn for the worse. Dark clouds gathered overhead, blotting out the sun and casting the world below into shadow. With a rumble of thunder, the first flakes of snow began to fall, gentle at first, then growing steadily more intense. Albedo glanced out, concern furrowing his brow. The snowfall intensified rapidly, transforming the landscape into a whiteout of swirling flakes and howling winds. Despite the warmth and comfort of the workshop, a sense of unease settled over the two of you as you realized you might be snowed in.

Albedo's gaze shifted back to his workbench, his mind already calculating contingencies and possibilities. With determination in his eyes, he turned to you, a reassuring smile tugging at his lips, assuring you that you would be alright.

Taking refuge within the shelter of the workshop, you huddled together for warmth, your hearts pounding in unison with the rhythm of the storm outside. Albedo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you watched the snow fall in a mesmerizing blur beyond the mouth of your sanctuary.

As the hours passed and the storm raged on, you and Albedo remained nestled within the workshop, sharing stories and laughter to chase away the cold. And as the last of the snowflakes fell from the sky and the storm finally began to wane, you emerged from your hiding place, hand in hand, ready to go back to the warm confines of your home back in Mondstadt.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

#「 birth of a supernova」#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #albedo x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #albedo fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #albedo x reader fluff #genshin impact x reader fluff #genshin x reader fluff

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bangtanhoneys · 4 months

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BTS MOMENTS: TAEHYUNG & GRACE - WINTER BEAR

He knew it was going to be hard not seeing everyone he loved on his birthday. It had become the norm after a while when he was busy travelling around the world, performing for New Year's. The few breaks in between were cherished when he could spend his birthday with his brothers, his parents, his siblings, his friends, his Wooga squad, ARMY and most importantly, his noona.

But now he was in the military and that came first. You very rarely got your birthday off and very rarely got time off even as a new recruit. He was a platoon leader, so he had to show an example by not being upset at the fact his birthday wouldn’t be spent with his loved ones.

However, when he returned back to where his bed was, there was a box sitting on the covers. It had been signed off by the military given the green tape covering his name and the stamp of approval from the office.

“Special request,” Taehyung read on the stamp and sat down to carefully open the box. Even if it was a saesang’s box, it wouldn’t have made it past the first check and the fact it was sitting on his bed meant it had come through with special orders.

When he finally got the box open, there was a present wrapped in birthday wrapping paper with an emerald green bow. On the tag read: “Taehyung, it’s your birthday! I miss you. I have one at home with me and I’ve named him Winter Bear. Happy birthday, my little bear. I love you.”

It was signed off as ‘noona.’

“She remembered,” Taehyung whispered and quickly pulled off the wrapping paper, opened up the box and found a brown bear in the same military uniform with a blue tag on, which was removable as he moved up the ranks.

The bear sat on his bedside table every night and no one said anything, no one made any comments when asked. Nothing more needed to be said when a little name tag was stitched on ‘Gigi.’

He would be home soon enough and he would see his noona as soon as he could where he could lean against her, let her take his worries away and not think about anything other than being home and being with her and the boys again.

Note: Apologies for the delay but I'm back! Happy belated birthday to our Winter Bear - go and kick ass in the military and we'll see you very soon.

#bts 8th member #bts additional member #bts eighth member #bts female member #bts fic #taehyung happy birthday

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bsd-bibliophile · 1 year

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Happy Birthday Nakahara Chūya-sensei!

To celebrate Nakahara Chūya’s birthday here are his top three quotes from my blog:

Quote #3:

The snow lying on the rooftiles is a touch hard, the dead trees’ twigs are sleepy like a deer; six o’clock on a winter morning, my head too is sleepy.

The birds pass by singing - the garden earth is sleepy like a deer. - The wood has fled, the farmhouse has fled. The sky is sad weakness. My heart is sad…

- Nakahara Chūya, “Winter Daybreak” from The Poems of Nakahara Chūya

Quote #2:

The snow coming down overhead Is fluttering down like petals The burning firewood crackles And the frozen sky bears iron hues

The snow coming down overhead Is coming to rest in my hand Delicately as of old

The snow coming down overhead Landing on my burning forehead Trickles off like tears

To the snow coming down overhead I expressed my gratitude, and to God, I prayed for longevity

The snow coming down overhead Exudes an innocent purity

- Nakahara Chūya, “A Poem on a Life” from Poems of the Goat

Quote #1:

O - In all our cowardice for a long, so very long time, We have occupied ourselves with vanity, forgetting to cry - how we have forgotten to cry…

- Nakahara Chūya, “Let the Old” from Poems of Days Past

#nakahara chūya #japanese literature #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #happy birthday nakahara chuuya #2023

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 month

Text

Prompts 31-36

speed running the tropes with Jason (guys can you tell hes my favorite yet)

BIRTHDAY

He tries to make you a birthday cake for your birthday... and while it's not terrible it's not... you know what it's the thought that counts! Besides he seems so happy with himself, even if he tries to sign to you that the cake isnt as pretty as he intended it to be. On top of that he gifts you some pretty little piece of clothing or jewelry he found in the camp! Just.. dont ask where it came from. I can see Jason being into wood carving honestly, so its likely that hes made you something! A bowl to keep your little trinkets in, for example! But of course he could make you anything else just say the word! Takes birthdays very seriously when it comes to you, he wants you to feel important

SUPERNATURAL AU

I could be lazy and say that Jason is the one who is supernatural, since hes a zombie during most of the franchise.. but imagine, a reader who is a creature of sorts. My brain always tracks back to a deer person.. he thinks you're so pretty, graceful too. If you have antlers that shed during the fall/winter, he keeps them.. not for any use other than he thinks they're pretty. It's a little odd, but can you blame him for being in love with you? Was completely mesmerized by you the first time he met you, he had never seen anyone like you before. He had never heard about anyone like you before, either. He thinks it's cute when your ears and tail twitch

MOVIE MARATHON

MINI MUSIC MIX

Treehouse - Alex G

Bruno is Orange - Hop Along

I'd add more but my brain... blank

Jason has probably been able to snag movies from past campers, so while he never really had any intention to watch them he does have a bit of a collection! So what better time than now to watch them? You both huddle up together on some small TV with a player you thrifted from town.. you might have even picked up some snacks and additional movies to really drag the night out. Its nice, you're sitting against Jason.. if you get tired at any point but want to keep watching he let's you sit in his lap and melt into his body. Hes like a giant teddy bear, warm and comfortable... you eventually wake up in the morning in bed, not remembering when you fell asleep

BAKING TOGETHER

As mentioned above he can bake, though he is not particularly skilled at it. Not to worry because imagine you offer to give him some lessons. If you've been here around for a while you already know what I'm going to say. Imagine taking his hands in yours when hes cutting something. He can definitely cut well, but hes not good at making.. uniform and neat cuts. He nearly jumps when you take a hold of his hands. He clings onto every word you say and follows your directions to a T.. just explain to him what some terms mean-!

HEAD REST

If you're ever tired or just want to lean into him, hes always open to letting you lean yourself against his shoulder. Just let him know if it's the first few times because he might jump and freeze! As the relationship progresses he let's you rest on his lap and put your head on his chest or his neck as he works on something with his hands.. you two can stay like that forever.. the only thing that would make him take you off of him would be anyone stepping into the camp when they shouldn't be there (which is never! There should never be anyone!)

#jason vorhees x reader #jason vorhees imagine #jason voorhees x reader #jason x reader #jason voorhees imagine #slashers x reader #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #slashers x you

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funny-upset-clown · 2 months

Text

Write everyday, and that will be good enough.

I ripped myself from my cycle, from the sheets, the burning candle; cackling, waning, from the pale window side and the brownie pan, from the sulking desk, the blackening curtain that once smelled of turmeric and a spring dawn.

On the bus I felt the eyes and fumes of strangers, I felt winter loosening into its skin, the bus halt, go, halt, twist, accumulating hot air. I did not think of anything, nothing I can remember now, except that one mantra I shall not refuse:

I must become an acquaintance to that which passes through me and circles back, hour to hour, the pang of lost love, the image of love in a person who is now lost totally, or even the sneeze of peace, the forgiving hello of my life's image: multi-florescent and whole.

I cannot get out of my head the fear of what alienation cumulatively does to me. I cannot quite pinpoint the ideal exodus of my isolation. I imagine myself surrounded by church bells, I imagine myself grinning at climax - covered in saliva and sunrays, I imagine the lullaby that is pure curiosity as it butters my nerves with the first phrase of mystery. I imagine myself and a flower alone considering the sound. I imagine falling in love over and over again.

Perhaps I imagine being more open to the sensation of love wherever it may take me.

That is the secret of the time I was once most happy.

To recall that security, is to outline its absence in me now. I breathe in.

Sitting at the cafe where I will be reading poetry in a few weeks. I cannot afford a refill on my tea. The street lamps just turned on and the sky has shifted from a blinding pale gray to a shadowed cerulean that peels my very heart from me and it is just 4:40 in the afternoon. As for the hunger, I don't feel it in my stomach, I feel it in my lips and my spine, now in my nose with the whiff of a stew being boiled in the back. I wrap my thin sweatshirt around my bound torso and adjust my glasses, the window glass gets thinner and my fingers jump over the keys- broken by chill. I consider commuting home, I consider the waiting and shivering. I consider passing groups of friends and lovers seen through restaurant windows, feasting and laughing, I consider the light in eyes that will not look my way. I consider the jealousy and the building starvation. I also consider waiting here, writing here, then reading. Finding a way to resource any warmth, drinking the free water, my right leg crossed over my left swaying weakly and melodiously. Waiting until Coles opens. I wouldn't buy a beer. If I did it would fill me up like a meal and I'd feel warm for a moment. I consider being there, no money in my pocket, nothing to fall back on except the single day bus pass I dropped half of all my money on.

I consider my options.

I could steal again. I'd steal a candle and a hot drink.

I think about A and flinch to my surprise. A song plays that reminds me of when they bought me a bouquet of marigolds from out the car window on my birthday.

I imagine them walking in through the jingling door and feeling okay. I imagine their warm hands falling all around mine

and now the cold is becoming too much to bear.

The sky now looks like an oil spill in ocean waters. The door jingles, the train roars, my nipples get cold, my foot starts shaking faster. I don't need anybody to look at me, no I do not. All of this because I am practically nothing at all, especially as long as I am alive, and this is not to rouse despair.

It is now 5pm, and I will prepare myself to find something new. I just have to gnaw the sting of wind and the blow of hunger.

I am content to have eyes, I will record for this sake, for the sake of writing just to write everyday.

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daydreamingyuta · 1 year

Text

Masterlist

Seventeen

Joshua

Cuddling with Joshua

NCT (all units)

Dates with nct

Most likey to: make you flustered

Wayv

Kun

Kun as a Husband

[7:45 am]

Ten

Ten as a Husband

Sleepy

Winwin

Winwin as a Husband

Xiaojun

Xiaojun as a husband

Hendery

Cozy Mornings

Hendery as a Husband

Yangyang

I’ll Be Here to Take Care of You

Yangyang as a Husband

NCT Dream (mark and haechan in 127 section)

Winter Dates with NCT Dream

Renjun

Renjun as a Husband

[2:34 am]

Jeno

Homebody

Jeno as a Husband

Stay the Night

Jaemin

Fake Dating

Jaemin as a Husband

Eavesdropping and Confessions

Chenle

Hidden Feelings

Chenle as a Husband

Jisung

Jisung as a Husband

Sharing Headphones

NCT 127

Things that remind me of NCT 127

NCT 127 as Book Tropes

NCT 127 as Valentines Dates

127 Nicknames they would call you

127 When you’re Sick

127 Words of Affirmation

127 Comforting You

Traveling with 127

127 as Wedding Dates

127 Supporting their Model S/O

Summer Nights with 127

127 as Little Acts of Love

127 During a Horror Movie

127 Trick-or-Treating with Their Kids

Christmas with 127

127 as My Favorite Movie Characters

Soft thoughts about the members

#1 (Mark, Yuta, Taeyong)

#2 (Yuta, Mark, Jaehyun, Doyoung)

#3 (Mark, Taeyong, Doyoung)

#4 (Yuta, Taeyong, Johnny)

#5 (Mark, Haechan, Taeyong, Johnny)

#6 (Haechan, Johnny, Taeil)

#7 (Mark, Yuta, Taeyong)

#8 (All 127)

#9 (Taeyong)

#10 (All 127)

#11 (Johnny, Taeyong, Yuta)

#12 (Mark, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Doyoung)

#13 (Taeyong, Johnny, Yuta, Doyoung, Mark, Haechan)

#15 (Taeyong, Jungwoo, Mark)

Taeil

Hugs

Whims

Taeil as a Husband

soft thoughts: #6 ✰ #8 ✰ #10

Johnny

Spending Time with Johnny on his Birthday

Johnny as a Boyfriend

[7:37 pm]

Washing Johnny’s Hair

Flustered

Johnny as a Husband

Bucket List

soft thoughts: #4 ✰ #5 ✰ #6 ✰ #8 ✰ #10 ✰ #11 ✰ #13 ✰ #14

Taeyong

Taeyong as a Boyfriend

Taeyong Daydreaming about the Future

Beach Picnic

Taeyong as a Husband

soft thoughts: #1 ✰ #3 ✰ #4 ✰ #5 ✰ #7 ✰ #8 ✰ #9 ✰ #10 ✰ #11 ✰ #12 ✰ #13 ✰ #15

Yuta

Yuta being Sweet after you had a Long Day

Yuta as a Boyfriend

[1:58 am]

Comfort

Café

My Rockstar

Yuta as a Husband

soft thoughts: #1 ✰ #2 ✰ #4 ✰ #7 ✰ #8 ✰ #10 ✰ #11 ✰ #13 ✰ #14

Doyoung

A Rainy Day with Doyoung

Expensive

Bad Dream

Doyoung as a Husband

Book Club

soft thoughts: #2 ✰ #3 ✰ #8 ✰ #10 ✰ #12 ✰ #13

Jaehyun

Jaehyun Finally Admits his Feelings

Strawberry Sunday

Getting ready with Jaehyun (part one)

Getting Unready with Jaehyun (part two)

Jealous

Surprising Jaehyun after a Work Trip

Jaehyun putting you as his Phone Background

Peaches

[10:34 am]

Blind Date

Mornings

Necklace

Clingy

My Girl

Jaehyun as a Husband

[8:31 am]

Lullaby

Love Song

Finesse

soft thoughts: #2 ✰ #8 ✰ #10 ✰ #12 ✰ #14

Jungwoo

Jungwoo Tries to Impress You

Jungwoo as a Boyfriend

Jungwoo as a Husband

Tea Party

soft thoughts: #8 ✰ #10 ✰ #15

Mark

Mark as a Boyfriend

Self-Care Day with Mark

Croissants & Roses

[9:14 pm]

Glue Song

Flowers

SFW Alphabet

Unrequited Love

Question

[1:47 am]

Innocent Touches

The Flower Shop Owner (part one)

The Flower Shop Owner (part two)

[1:12 pm]

Reading with Mark

[8:31 pm]

Sticky Note

[11:46 pm]

[8:02 pm]

Hold Me?

Good Morning, Baby

Don’t Wanna Say Goodnight

Baking Christmas Cookies

Mark as a Husband

Bittersweet

Sweet Kisses

First Snow

Can I Sit?

[10:12 PM]

soft thoughts: #1 ✰ #2 ✰ #3 ✰ #5 ✰ #7 ✰ #8 ✰ #10 ✰ #12 ✰ #13 ✰ #15

Haechan

Haechan Defends You

[9:53 pm]

Taking a break with Haechan

Journal

Listen to Me

[4:14 pm]

Distraction

Haechan as a Husband

Teddy Bear

Sweetheart

soft thoughts: #5 ✰ #6 ✰ #8 ✰ #10 ✰ #13 ✰ #14

Moodboards

happy mark day!

jungwoo Barbie

kitty taeyong

200 Followers Prompt Event (closed)

Prompts

Flustered | Johnny Suh

Listen to Me | Haechan

300 Followers Prompt Event (closed)

Prompts

Fake Dating | Jaemin

Hidden Feelings | Chenle

400 Followers Event

NCT as Husbands Masterlist

281 notes · View notes

nikethestatue · 10 months

Text

The Little Black Dress That Could

May the 4th Be with all of us! Today is my favorite holiday. 4th of July, Independence Day.

This is also for Caroline, whose birthday was yesterday. Happy birthday girl! You don't have to keep drinking virgin pina coladas anymore.

What happened during Winter Solstice at Hewn City between Elain and Azriel? What did he think of her ugly black dress? Read on and find out.

“By the Cauldron,” Nesta exhaled obnoxiously loudly. “It’s ugly.”

Elain made a face.

It was ugly.

“Fucking ugly,” Nesta added.

Fu-gly.

That’s what the dress was.

It was a fugly dress.

With that, Nesta left.

Well, good riddance.

It was fine.

She was fine.

Everything was fine.

Her sister hated her.

Elain had to wear this revoltingly ugly dress to a ball. Her first ball since she became Fae.

She had to stand there, in her ugly dress, allowing everyone else to shine…which would be fine. Normally, Elain Archeron wasn’t envious or petty. But she had to be dressed in this frumpy frock, knowing that he would be there. He would be resplendent in his elegant leathers, his siphons shining with their ethereal light, his handsome face perfect and grave. Ugh. He would be perfect. He always was. He could wear a potato sack, and still look like a Prince.

Rhysand tried to be like Azriel, but failed. No one could be like Azriel, the mysterious and deadly Shadowsinger. The quiet authority that he always conveyed. The darkness. The secretive nature of,

“Hey Elain!”

Cassian’s voice boomed behind her and startled out of her thoughts, she blurted out,

“I am not sleeping with Azriel!”

Cassian looked at her like she was drunk and yet, said calmly,

“I mean, no one would blame you for wanting to sleep with Azriel,”

“What?” she choked.

“What? He is handsome and stately, muscular, but compact, built like a,”

“I am not sleeping with Azriel,” she noted dryly, “but I am not sure about you.”

“What?” he glared at her.

She folded her arms on her chest.

“I am not! I haven’t,” he began muttering defensively. “We haven’t…I mean, there was that time when,”

“WHAT?!” she cried out.

“Nothing. Nothing.”

There was an awkward, strange silence and they just stared at one another.

“Why are you here?” she demanded at last.

“You seen Nes?”

“Maybe.”

“You gonna be all mad because I might have, like 300 years ago, kiss-”

“I don’t. Want. To. Know.” she snarled at him, pressing her hands to her ears.

He stepped back in fright and hissed through his teeth,

“Oh Mother…these Arecheron girls are rabid.”

“Oh rabid are we?” she yelled at him, and he actually took a step back, trying to avoid a physical altercation with the flower girl. Somehow, he feared her more than anyone–perhaps not physically, but somehow, he knew that he’d be torn to pieces by both Nesta, and probably Aziel. He wasn’t sure about Azriel, but there was…something. Some feelings that Cassian couldn't discern, but felt in his gut. Anyway, he wasn’t going to fight with Elain. Thought he couldn’t help himself and asked,

“You’re wearing this?” He raised his brow, glancing at the dress that hung on the hanger.

Elain sighed and said gloomily, “yes, I am wearing this dress.”

He whistled and murmured, “Mother’s tits…”

“Not helping, Cassian. Not helping.”

“Well, alright then. I guess I’ll see you at the Court of Nightmares. You know…” he paused, and then added softly, taking her hand in his giant bear paws, “you don’t have to go…”

Her expression softened and she murmured,

“I want to go, Cassian. I want to do my part.”

Cassian and Elain were milling about the foyer of the River Estate in awkward semi-silence. Both were waiting to be winnowed to Hewn City. Azriel was already there, and Mor was going to pick the two of them up. Nesta would travel with Feyre and Rhys.

“Are you excited to stand at Azriel’s side?” Cassian asked, trying to sound casual.

“Pardon?” Elain whirled to him, eyes wide.

“You know…By the throne? Nesta will be next to me, and you’ll be next to Az,”

“Why should I be excited about that?” she demanded, but her cheeks were awfully red for her to be simply angry.

Cassian smirked.

He was definitely picking on some vibes. He wasn’t going to be fooled.

And he was pretty sure that he was the only one to be catching these vibes between his brother and Elain. Yeah. He was always the first one to notice things, especially between couples. He was observant like that.

“I don’t know…I think Nesta is excited to stand next to me,” he shrugged.

Elain’s chin rose and she declared,

“Why shouldn’t he be excited to stand next to me?”

Pacifically, Cassian immediately assured her, “I am sure he is very excited.”

Hewn City was outfitted beautifully for the three day-long celebrations of the Winter Solstice. There were black candelabras, wreaths of holly, silver and gold ribbons wrapped around the obsidian columns, the floors were polished so brightly, they reflected all the attendees and the lights. Enormous arrangements of pine branches bedecked in faelights, white roses and night blooming jasmine were placed all around the ballroom in crystal vases.

Azriel, Shadowsinger of High Lord Rhysand’s Night Court felt quite at home here. He didn’t like it–or rather, he didn’t like the present Steward of Hewn City–but he’d spent enough time in these ancient, hallowed halls to have grown accustomed to the place. It needed some sprucing up and something cheerful around here, but overall, he didn’t mind it. It was always especially beautiful around Solstice.

It was especially beautiful right now, because Elain Archeron stepped into the ballroom.

Oh yes, he’d noticed them all–Morrigan in her usual red dress, Cassian, standing right across him, brooding and tense, awaiting Nesta’s arrival. When the darkness of Rhysand’s power poured out of the massive doors, which opened silently to reveal the High Lord and the High Lady, and their heir inside of her. There was an audible gasp when the attendees beheld Feyre’s pregnant belly, but Azriel was used to that as well. Nothing surprised him much anymore, other than…

Elain Archeron.

She looked like a goddess.

She looked like the Mother.

Her long golden brown hair was unbound, streaming like a bronze halo around her, pinned with two pearl combs. And her dress…Was the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It fit her perfectly. It was simple and stunning.

Nesta was wearing something overly elaborate–tuile, and sequence, and gems and silver, and while it all looked very nice and all, his girl looked sublime. She didn’t need any extra ornamentation.

Well, maybe just the gift that he was planning to give her on Solstice night. The delicate necklace that he had designed and commissioned especially for her. It would look perfect in the little divot between her lovely slender collar bones.

It was Nesta’s night to shine, but Elain looked like a queen. His Lady. Though to him, she was always simply his girl. His Elain.

The two sisters stood by the dias of the two thrones, Nesta next to Cassian, and Elain next to Azriel. He couldn’t offer her a wink or a smile, not in front of all these people, but she stood close enough, for him to gently, covertly rub his pinkie against the side of her palm. She didn’t flinch and didn’t react, but a tiny sweet smile touched her full lips. His girl liked it when he touched her–when they exchanged glances, and brief brushes of fingers. When he skimmed his fingers over hers at breakfast, when she offered him his mug of tea. Or when he could place his palm on the small of her back for a few moments when he followed her into the room, or out of the house. Or even better, when she adjusted the lapels of his jacket, and stroked his chest. No. She never minded when he touched her.

Now he wished that he could place her small hand on his forearm so they could walk together–without hiding, without fears or accusations. It was impossible, but Azriel held onto hope. He had nothing else. Just hope, and his dreams of walking arm in arm with his girl, with Elain, who’d be his wife. He didn’t care about the bond at all–not hers, or a hypothetical one for the two of them. Did he wonder why the other two brothers received mate bonds with the two sisters, and she was given away like a sacrifice to Lucien Vanserra? Every day. But it was also pointless to ponder the ways of the Cauldron. He didn’t need a bond with Elain in order to love her. He liked her and loved her just because she was Elain–he loved her face, he adored her wit and her sense of humour, he admired her resilience, he enjoyed her mind and her intelligence. They fit each other like a pair of gloves–easily. What felt torturous with Morrigan for the past 500 years, felt absolutely natural with Elain. She took what he offered, and didn’t pressure him for more, and he gave bits of himself willingly and gladly.

One day, sweetheart. One day. You and I.

Rhys was gifting Eris a Made dagger, and everyone began dancing as the first notes of the waltz filled the vast space.

Elain stepped closer to him, and he lightly ran his knuckle over her spine. Her back was bare, the dress held together by thick ribbons, but it offered enough of her silky skin for him to observe that he was forced to bite the inside of his cheek just to hold back a groan.

“Do you want me to Make you a dagger too?” she whispered, without looking at him, pretending to be interested in the gift exchange.

“I already have one,” he murmured with a smile, his lips brushing the back of her head, inhaling the scent of jasmine.

“Hmmm…would you like me to Make you anything?”

Yes, I would like for you to make me your husband.

“Make me dinner, and I will be a happy male,” he decided.

“Then I will,” she promised simply.

Eris’s muddy eyes landed on Elain and she grunted through clenched teeth,

“Time for me to shine!”

“I can kill him for you, if you’d like,” Azriel offered calmly.

“Tempting, but you never know how others might look at the murder of the Heir to Autumn by the shadowsinger.”

Smart girl.

He stepped away, allowing another Vanserra’s eyes to skate over his woman.

It was intolerable.

But Elain made a good impression of pretending to be mildly interested in Eris.

And Eris, vain and predictable, was visibly disappointed by the modesty of Elain’s gown, by her demure appearance.

Azriel could only smile to himself.

Thank the Cauldron for the prideful son of Autumn, who did not see the diamond in front of his eyes.

No matter.

Yes, Azriel wanted everyone to admire Elain like he did, but he also wanted to keep her for himself–his secret, a thing of lovely beauty.

Eris offered Elain a bland smile, and then made a beeline towards Nesta.

His loss. Azriel’s gain.

Elain’s smile was finally genuine, and shining in his direction.

The guests were oohing and ahhing over Nesta and Eris in the dancefloor, and Azriel moved back to stand beside his beautiful girl, while they watched the other couple twirl and spin across the floor. They looked incredible–there was no doubt that in another life, in another world, Nesta and Eris would’ve made an excellent match.

But that thought quickly evaporated, when Azriel sensed the rage, disappointment and unhappiness of his brother, who was almost gnashing his teeth in frustration.

Elain wordlessly took Cassian’s hand and squeezed it affectionately.

“Cass, don’t cut in,” Azriel warned him.

Elain looked at the General with sympathy in her warm brown eyes and whispered,

“It’s not real, Cassian. They are not real.”

“But,” he began, and she cut him off,

“She is the one for you, Cassian. You know it. She is your girl.”

Azriel quickly looked at his own girl, and wondered how the Hel did she know? How did she always know?

“Give her the opportunity to complete all her spins,” Elain chuckled, “and then you can cut it.”

“Would you like to dance, Elain Archeron?”

Azriel had danced with Nesta, after Cassian swept her away from Eris and completed his own circle on the dancefloor. Cassian was not as good of a dancer as Eris, but he and Nesta looked…right. They looked like they belonged. And maybe he was stiff, and didn’t move with a courtier’s grace, but Cassian danced because he knew that tonight, Nesta needed him. She needed him, and his strength, and his support, and she needed to be in his arms almost as much as Cassian needed to take her into his own.

“She really is his girl,” Elain smiled softly, watching the two glide among the guests.

She turned and looked up at Azriel.

“And yes, I would love to dance with you.”

“Well then give me your little hand,” he ordered, smiling, as he extended his palm to her. She lay her fingers against his and he sighed with pleasure, as he wrapped his arm around her body, pulling him to him. Her head rested on his shoulder.

One day.

Soon.

Wife.

Not a bad Solstice celebration after all.

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