#but in this one??? the flower crown??? i live laugh love fluff it was so sweeeeet

[idk-i-want-mcl-content]

WHY DID NOBODY TOLD ME YOU CAN SEE THOMAS IN HIS BIKER OUTFIT AFTER PLAYING EP 3

this man is soo fine to my eyes istg this is another winnnn (am i yelling just because he put a black jacket on? yes, let me be and continue with your day xoxo)

#mcl new gen spoilers #mcl new gen spoiler #i also wanted to say that this episode's illustration is my fav c: #before it was ep 1 idk it's just so cute #and ep 2 is cute too but in ep 2 i prefer amanda's illu #but in this one??? the flower crown??? i live laugh love fluff it was so sweeeeet #atm i'm using only those 2 tags but after this week i will add some post to the main tag #not every one because some are just me fangirling/crying (thx roy)

[2hightocare]

SWEET NOTHINGS ✷

Summary: You and Jungkook host thanksgiving dinner at your guys’ house, but Jungkook is head over heels in love with you.

pairing: husband!jungkook x wife!reader

warnings: pure fluff, jungkook is whipped, reader and jungkook are corny as hell, and a lot of curse words. A lot of kissing… a little bit of spanish. crying.

"Baby, what are you wearing? Are we going to match?" Your husband yells from upstairs, making you chuckle lightly. "I left your outfit hanging in the bathroom," you yell back while bending over, turning on the light of the oven where the turkey Jungkook added almost four hours ago stares back at you.

"Do I take the turkey out now, babe?" You yell for your husband upstairs to listen. "I don’t know; let me call my mom," he says. You jump, a small shriek leaving your lips as you put your hand over your heart and close your eyes.

"Fuck, you scared the shit outta me," a small chuckle slips past your mouth as Jungkook laughs with his head thrown back and dimples on full display.

"I’m so sorry, baby. I thought you heard me coming downstairs." His mouth adorned with a grin while slowly pulling you to him with his hands on your waist.

"Hi," you say as he kisses your lips.

"Hi, baby," he greets back, putting a loose piece of your hair behind your ear. "You look so beautiful," Jungkook gives you one more kiss before making you do a little spin for him.

Your brown long-sleeve off-shoulder mini dress matches his brown crewneck. His black jeans match your black stockings and black long boots you ended up stealing from your sister last time she visited. "You look sexy, so eatable I’m afraid." You look up at him with a big smile on your face before tiptoeing to give him a quick kiss before making your way back to the mashed potatoes you said you would do.

One thing about Jungkook is that he could stay mesmerized by your actions and words even if whatever you were doing was something so normal just like right now. The way your curled hair falls in front of your face, but with your hands occupied, you try to blow on it before trying to use your elbow to push it away, causing Jungkook to let out a chuckle, making his way to help you.

"I thought that was the reason you have a bow on, baby." Jungkook pushes both your long curtain bangs back to its place, securing it with the bow. "I’m not even going to ask how you were able to do that so fast," you throw a glare at Jungkook, making him burst into another laugh.

"Baby, I have to fix Ji-woo’s bows all the time." Jungkook laughs softly in the crook of your neck from behind, his hands wrapped around your waist.

Ji-woo being yours’ and Jungkook’s only goddaughter, and the only child in both of your families. You and Jungkook always brought up the topic of kids for it to always be shut down after seeing kids throw tantrums in tv shows or when going grocery shopping, which only ends with us looking at each other before shivering at the thought that one day that could be our future child.

The thought of having children it’s not completely shut down; you and Jungkook just feel like you guys will like to wait just a bit more before having a kid. Ji-woo and Bam were enough for you both.

You both sway to the song playing from the living room TV, coming from your ‘j🖤’ playlist.

"Did you ask your mom about the turkey?" You ask finally finishing smashing the potatoes, pushing the bowl to the center of the white counter where other dishes you made yesterday are gathered.

"Hm, texted her, and she said she was on her way," he murmurs from the crown of your head before finally letting go of you. "I have some to give you be right back," Jungkook makes his way to the garage door where both of your guys' cars are. As you wipe down the countertops and table, the door opens, making you look up, finding Jungkook holding the biggest flower bouquet you have ever seen.

A gasp leaves your mouth as you stare at the beautiful bright red roses. "Oh my god, baby, what?" Your lips pout as he kisses them and hands you the bouquet. "Fuck, this is heavy," you hold the flowers with both hands, the bouquet covering your entire face, making Jungkook chuckle. "Baby, I can’t even hug you to say thank you," you whine, feeling your eyes slightly water. You had always been so sensitive when it came to gestures Jungkook has done for you. That one time he took it upon himself to learn Spanish to be able to ask your parents in their native language for your hand in marriage, or the one time he took you to Paris on your one-year anniversary because you told him you always wished of going but never was able to due to your parents' financial issues.

"Baby, don’t cry," Jungkook quickly takes the flowers from your grip and puts them on the counter before cupping your face and blowing on your face, making you burst out laughing. Jungkook smiles while kissing your face.

"I just love you so much," you whisper all while he finishes kissing your closed eyes. "I love you so much more," Jungkook replies back before pulling you into a hug; you immediately melt into his warmth.

"I’m so seriously so in love with you," you say against his chest while he kisses the top of your head soothing you.

"And I'm in love with you," Jungkook says muffled against your hair; you stay there for a minute just feeling each other’s warmth and comfort while "Sweet Nothings" by Taylor Swift plays in the background.

"We’re so fucking corny, I swear," you joke, making both of you crack up until both your stomachs hurt.

"You had to ruin the moment huh?" He smirks at you before leaning down to leave a big fat kiss on your lips.

"I actually have one more thing, and I need you to close your eyes," Jungkook bites on his lip, his dimples showing. "Oh my god, are you serious? You just gave me around a hundred flowers, and there’s more?" Your mouth hangs open, earning another small laugh from Jungkook.

"Okay, no, for real though, close your eyes; I’ll be right back." Jungkook disappears again through the garage door. Not knowing what to expect, you close your eyes.

Funny how the butterflies and cartwheels your tummy still does even after all these years has you feeling so happy and thankful for the person you get to spend your whole life with.

The garage door opens, which makes you giddy like a teenage girl waiting for her crush to tell them they like them.

"Okay, open, baby." You open your eyes, your mouth drops open. "You’re fucking kidding, Jungkook."

You stare at the small white fluffy kitty with grey spots, that is laying comfortably in Jungkook’s arms. Your hands make their way to your mouth to conceal the small scream you want to let out. You had been begging Jungkook to let you get a cat for almost three months now.

Jungkook’s cheeks hurt from how hard he is smiling, looking down at you and how you softly caress it.

"What’s its name?" You look up at Jungkook, who is already looking at you with galaxies in his eyes. "You choose, baby, it’s yours." Jungkook places the small kitten into your arms. “Oh my fuck, it’s mine,” you squeal as the kitten looks up at you, making you melt even more.

“No mames” (you gotta be shitting me), you say in your native language, making Jungkook smile wider as he sees you struggle to find a name.

“It’s a boy, if that helps.” Jungkook leans against the counter, watching your every move, his heart swelling. “And if we named it ‘Bubbles’?” Your head snaps to Jungkook’s, waiting for his reaction to the name.

“I love that,” he scrunches his nose before nodding up and down. “Oh my god, I’m a mother,” you pick up Bubbles into the air, softly spinning around.

“Excuse you! You've been a mother, what about Bam!” Jungkook dramatically puts his hand on his heart, acting out like he just took a hit to the chest. “Stop! I love Bammy!” You defend yourself.

You make your way to your husband, kissing his lips over and over again, causing him to smile into your mouth. “Thank you so much, baby.” You thank him for the twelfth time before the doorbell to the entrance door rings. “Coming!” Jungkook yells, hoping whoever is outside heard.

…

As both of your families gather at the dining table, where we had to pull some chairs from outside so all eleven of us can eat around the table.

“Okay, so who’s going to start with what they are thankful for?” your sister says as her husband pokes her side, “I say you go first since you wanna share so bad,” your brother-in-law tells her, making everyone laugh.

Your sister scoffs before raising her wine glass to the air, then giving us a look to do the same, causing Jungkook’s mom to let out a small snort. “I’m thankful for all of you guys; you seriously make my days better by just opening the family group chat,” she jokes. “And I’m super thankful for everything I have accomplished this year, cheers!”

“Cheers!” Everyone clinks their glasses in the air, beside Ji-woo, who has her chubby fingers in her mouth, giggling along with whatever we’re saying.

The table goes around saying what they’re thankful for before stopping at Jungkook, his hand on your thigh squeezes before he starts.

“Okay, your turn, my love,” Jungkook’s mom says to Jungkook, who smiles at his mom. “Corny trigger warning, please!” Jung-hyun, Jungkook’s brother, jokes, which gets him a swat from his wife. “What the-“ Jung-hyun rubs the back of his head, staring agape at his wife. The table bursts into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, well, I wanted to start with thanking everybody for coming,” Jungkook starts off, making everyone say a small ‘you’re welcome’. “I’m super thankful for my family; I truly don’t know how I could’ve possibly turned out without you guys,” he continues. “I’m grateful for y/n’s family, my second family; thank you for welcoming me into your life, and god suegra, thank you for birthing y/n,” Jungkook rambles off, causing the biggest laugh to come out of everyone.

“And I’m so grateful for my wife,” his eyes find their way to yours, making you melt into your seat like putty; a bunch of collective ‘oohs’ come out of everyone’s mouth.

“I truly love you with everything in me, and I’m so grateful for you. Thank you for making me the happiest man ever since I met you. You’re literally the best thing that has ever been mine.” Jungkook finishes with a huge smile on his face. Your lip quivers, and your hands make their way to your eyes again, hoping the tears you’re holding in don’t come pouring. Everyone around the table claps and is in awe of you both.

“What’s with you making me cry today?” your hands flap in front of your face, like if that could help the tears blurring your vision.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jungkook wipes the tears that fall down your eyes. “I love you so much I can’t-“ Jungkook shushes you with a small kiss and softly puts your loose hair strands behind your ear.

“Okay, enough lovey-dovey shit. I’m trying to eat!” Jung-hyun says, making everyone laugh as everyone starts digging into the food they put on their plates not so long ago.

Jungkook kisses the corner of your mouth before his fingers move to the gold ‘J’ necklace he got you years ago. Jungkook smiles to himself as his thumb moves across the letter. You pull him from his sweater until his ear is at the same level as your mouth before whispering.

“I love you, now eat.” Jungkook chuckles under his breath at your words before whispering back. “Yes, ma’am.” The hugest smile stays on everyone’s face the whole night.

A/n: hi omg this is my first ever fanfic I have posted, sorry if there’s some errors hope you enjoyed.🤍 (all of this is just fictional)

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #established relationship #married au #fluff #jjk #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bts jungkook #bts fanfic

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi,love ur stories 😍

I was wondering if u could do one based on 'I see the light' from tangled, where they meet at a mutual friends wedding or something, she was singing the song where she has the most melodiest voice and (charles, max or Pierre) somehow 'fall in love' at first sight of her along with her voice. Thx 😊😍

This was cute 💕 I hope you don't mind but I changed the setting a little bit.

Tangled Up In You || MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x singer!fem!reader Warnings: fluff, slight angst with his ex, more fluff WC: 2.2k

F1 Masterlist

Children were known to be resilient creatures that could adapt well to changes but Penelope had struggled to understand why her and her mother no longer lived with Max. It had been six months and still she asked where her ‘Maxie’ was and why he couldn’t come with them to their new home. 

So, it came as no surprise when she was asked who she wanted to invite to her 4th birthday party that Max was at the top of the list.

“...you don’t have to come, I can say you are busy-”

“No, I’ll be there, Kel,” Max interrupted as he put the call on speaker and added the event to his calendar. “Is P there? Can I talk to her?”

“Sorry, she’s with Daniil picking out her princess dress. The theme’s Disney, of course,” Kelly laughed softly before she sighed. “Are you sure you want to come, or are you just being nice?”

“I want to come. I miss our tea parties, and standing on tiny pieces of lego.”

The silence on the line lingered for a moment before she couldn’t help asking. “Do you miss me?” 

This time it was Max who sighed. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

He hung up before she could apologise again. Somehow she always turned a conversation back to their relationship, but that wasn’t something Max would ever entertain. If the man knew one thing from his life of racing it was how to move forward and when the three year relationship he had run its course he had taken time to reflect, just like those post-race debriefs, and planned to use it as a lesson learned for next time.

Kelly had overdone it as usual. 

The largest ballroom of Hôtel de Paris had been transformed into a set straight from Disney and filled with actresses dressed as Penelope’s favourites princesses. 

It was easy to spot P when Max walked in because her excited squeals were impossible to miss and he followed the sound to the front of the stage where she was jumping excitedly.

“Maxie!” she screamed, running and jumping at him trusting he would catch her.

“Happy Birthday, P,” he grinned as he lifted her up into a hug. “I can’t believe you are two years old already.”

“I’m four, silly!”

“No, that can’t be. You can’t possibly grow up that quickly.”

“I can! Have you seen my princesses? My favourite one isn’t here yet but mummy said she’s going to be here any minute.”

Max scanned the room for the princesses and saw the usual ones like Cinderella, Snow White and Aurora. “Is Rapunzel still your favourite then?”

Penelope nodded with a big toothy grin. “She’s so pretty. I want to be like her when I grow up.”

Max put her down carefully and straightened the tiara sitting on her perfectly styled hair. “You are already prettier than everyone here, P.”

“There you are,” Kelly greeted Max as she left another conversation to join them, kissing his cheeks twice just a little too close to the corners of his lips. “Just in time too. Sweetheart, look who’s here.”

Penelope screamed as she spotted Rapunzel taking the stage, a long golden braid adorned with flowers hanging all the way down her back. “It’s her, it’s really her,” P squealed as she squeezed Max’s hand. “She’s beautiful.”

Max was in a state of shock as his jaw fell slack. “She is.”

The lights of the stage dimmed until only a single spotlight cast a warm glow to her skin, the braiding of hair around her head appearing like a golden crown, or more accurately, a halo.

Max recognised the song in an instant, remembering the evenings spent on the couch watching Tangled, P dancing across the living room floor as she sang her little heart out. The memory brought a smile to his lips and it only grew wider as the angel on the stage began to sing.

You double checked the wig was held firmly by the pins and not a strand of hair was out of place before running your palms over the dress to make sure there wasn’t a single wrinkle on the pastel pink material. Satisfied you were ready, you hooked the small microphone and earpiece into place and nodded to the sound engineer to start the cue.

It was no difficult task to smile brightly as the music began and you twirled out onto the stage, you lived for these days. Seeing the excitement and joy your performances made the children who witnessed it brought joy to your life. Seeing their eyes widen and their jaws drop was what motivated you to channel even deeper and give your all to the act.

All those days watching from the windows All those years outside looking in All that time never even knowing Just how blind I've been

You spotted the birthday girl at the front of the crowd and plucked a bright flower from the braid, kneeling down to tuck it behind her ear. Her smile widened and she could hardly stand still as she trembled with excitement.

You waved a hand to the ceiling and the projector illuminated it with a thousand little glowing dots and a surprised gasp whispered across the largest crowd you had ever sung to.

Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight Now I'm here, suddenly I see Standing here, it's all so clear I'm where I'm meant to be

You smiled at the little girl once more before spinning on your toes beneath the twinkling lights, the tulle skirt billowing around you as if you were floating away with them.

Around the room, the other casted characters were turning on their lanterns and raising them into the air on near invisible strings. You could perform this set a thousand times and never tire of seeing the crowd's reactions to the lanterns floating into the night sky.

And at last I see the light And it's like the fog has lifted And at last I see the light And it's like the sky is new

You scanned the crowd while they were in a state of wonderment looking up, but there was one man who wasn’t. He still held the same unblinking look of awe but he could have been oblivious to the lights the way he was staring right back at you.

There was something about the look that almost knocked you off your feet as your stomach flipped and heat burned on your cheeks under the intensity. His eyes, a pale shade of blue, drew you closer to the edge of the stage and his foot lifted as if he were to follow.

And it's warm and real and bright And the world has somehow shifted

His lips moved like he knew the words by heart and you nearly missed the line as your heart skipped a beat. The rest of the crowd faded away as you knelt back where you had been and pulled another flower from your hair.

All at once everything looks different Now that I see you

He leaned forward and you tucked it behind his ear, your fingers grazing his jawline as you retreated. You were so absorbed by his shy smile and the blush highlighting his cheeks you didn’t notice the woman standing to the side of him. For a moment, before you caught yourself, it was only him that you sang to and only him that you saw.

“Please, please can I?” P begged her mother to go and see Rapunzel but after the breathtaking performance she had been in a mood and withdrew her hand from her daughter’s. 

“No, your cake is going to be coming out in a moment - I need to be here to show them where to put it.”

Tears welled along the four year old’s eyes and her bottom lip trembled before Max stepped in. “How about I take her?”

He had been watching the stage entrance for any sign of movement since her song had ended and it was hard to hide the disappointment when she didn’t return for another. He could still hear her voice and was busy committing it to memory in the hopes he could use the sweet, melodic sound to calm his racing mind when he lay awake alone at night.

Max couldn’t explain how utterly obsessed he had become or how he wished he knew what delicate perfume it was he had inhaled when she touched his face. He ran his hand along his jawline, following where her fingers had been under the guise of a scratch, and he was glad he had tidied his beard up for the event.

“Of course you would offer that,” Kelly bit back, pulling him from his thoughts as his hand fell away from his face. “Whatever, do as you want.”

Penelope understood the permission but missed the sarcasm and Max sighed to himself as he took P’s hand and made their way to the curtains that hid the makeshift backstage area.

“Rapunzel!” P squealed as she rushed forward, towing Max to keep up until she barrelled into the princesses legs and wrapped her arms around them. “I love you.”

You had almost begun to pull your wig off when you heard a little girl call out. You turned just in time to catch her as she grappled you into a hug and you laughed softly as you tucked her hair back behind her ear to see the flower you had given her.

“Aren’t you the sweetest little girl,” you giggled as you knelt down to her height and took in the sight of the man who followed her, his hands tucking into his dress pants. You drowned in the eyes that had held you captivated before tearing yours away and swallowing the disappointment that had crept up your throat. “I hope you are having the most magical birthday with your father.”

The birthday girl looked up at him with a laugh. “This is my Maxie.”

You tried to hide your confusion but he obviously saw it as he scratched the back of his neck, the material of the shirt he wore straining as his biceps tensed.

“Uh, I am, was, her step-dad,” he corrected as he gave the girl a small sad smile before offering his hand to you. “It’s just Max, or you can call me Maxie too, I guess, if you want.”

You smiled in amusement as you shook his hand, the touch lingering a little longer as neither of you made an effort to pull away.

“I’m Rapunzel,” you said as your eyes darted to Penelope.

“Right,” he chuckled and let his hand fall back to his side as he looked at her too. “Your cake might be waiting for you, P. Do you want to go check?”

“Can you come?” she asked you with big round eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but Eugene has probably got himself into trouble without me, so I should really be going. But I must thank you, it was an absolute delight to celebrate your birthday with you. I love getting to spend time with a fellow princess.” You swung your braid over your shoulder and the sweet scent of the fresh flowers filled the air. “You can have as many as you like.”

It took all your concentration not to look at Max when that was what you really wanted to do, especially when he knelt beside you and helped Penelope to choose which flowers to take. His arm brushed against yours and you nearly lost your balance from the deep breath you took of his mouth watering cologne.

Eventually she was happy with the dozen bright blossoms she cradled in her arms and thanked you before rushing to take them back to her mother. “Come on, Maxie!” she called without looking back to see if he was following.

He rose with a sigh and you hissed as your head was tugged sharply by the pins. “Shit, sorry,” he murmured as he saw his watch had got caught in the braid. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, it actually happens more often than you would think.” You rubbed the back of your head where the pain was worst and double checked the birthday girl was gone. “I’m Y/N.”

He repeated it with a smile as he slipped the watch off his wrist to use both hands to untangle it from the golden threads. “Would you let me take you to dinner to apologise properly?”

If you were wearing your microphone it probably would have picked up the sound of your heart from how quickly it started pumping. There was no denying this attraction between you and you could see he was equally affected by it too.

“No, I told you it’s alright,” you started, taking his hand when his shoulder slumped crestfallen. “But, you can buy me dinner if you want to make it a date?”

A bright smile broke across his face and you couldn’t help smiling back knowing it was because of you. “Tonight?”

You nodded as you reached into the hidden pocket in the dress and passed him your phone to enter his number before he sent himself a message to get yours. “You might not recognise me without all this,” you joked as you started to pull the pins out of the wig and freed your natural hair.

He chuckled and shook his head as he found you even more beautiful than before. “There’s no mistaking those eyes, I would recognise them anywhere.”

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 imagine

[clarakiki]

The spring revel

Thranduil x reader

Summary: Spring has come upon the Elvenking's realm and you know exactly how to celebrate it.

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Warnings: afab reader, no use of Y/N, mentions of alcohol and the reader and Thranduil being drunk, explicit smut, children (? not yours just yeah, they're there)

Notes: Hello my loves <3. Coming back to you with many firsts in this fic. It is my first time writing for Thranduil (I have a Lotr phase and can't get him out of my head) and my first time writing smut. So please excuse if it's not that great, I will get better I promise. I appreciate your comments and kudos and I hope you'll enjoy <3

You dance under the trees.

The air is warm and sweet, the torches glow with golden fire and the wine is flowing freely. The lush green canopy hides the night sky above, making it feel like you are in a great hall. 

The spring revel has come upon Eryn Lasgalen, and you are drunk and happy and free. Your bare feet feel the soft grass and cool rock and your short dress sticks to your body while you dance around the hill. 

Other elves twirl and jump around you, they take your hands and laugh with you. Tonight the line between monarch and subject blurs. The lively music of pipes and flutes makes your head spin. 

At the head of a great carved table, which bends under the weight of fruit and soft bread and carafes of deep red wine, sits your husband, The Elvenking, and for once he seems to be enjoying himself. Upon his regal brow rests a crown of flowers and leaves and his lips are curled into a smile. His wine cup is never empty.

Perhaps that is the reason he lets the group of elf children prance around him. Some are singing to the music and dance around happily, some climb on his lap and look up at him with their big bright eyes. One child has dared to touch his crown and braid his hair. For once he lets them, for tonight is a time of celebration for everyone, both a king and a child.

The round ends and you can finally go rest for a moment. Your spent legs carry you towards your own throne, one set next to your husbands. It is a beautiful thing, spun from intertwining branches and adorned with carved writing. Budding blooms decorate the headrest.

With a sigh you plop yourself, rather ungracefully, into your seat. Before your husband can get a word out, the child sitting upon his lap starts: “Please my lady, come and dance with us.” The little boy pleads and others join him.

“Did you not ask your king to dance with you?” you ask, teasing them a little, for you know the answer. 

A choir of intermingling voices answers you, one over the other accusing their Elvenking of refusing them. You laugh quietly at their distress and at your husband's tired sigh. “Alright, dear children, I promise I will come and dance with you. But you have to promise me, to ask your mothers first and then to go to bed on time.” 

The little faces light up and soon they are all scrambling to find their parents. 

“You saved me, my love,” Thranduil laughs, a rare sight. “How was your dance? You seem already spent.” You know he is only joking and you decide to retaliate.

“Oh, it was wonderful,” you exaggerate. “It would be better, however, if a certain elf joined me for the next song?” It is meant only as a jest but he surprises you with his answer.

“Be good to me and I just might,” he voice is low and rich and it does things to you.

“Are you too deep in your cups, or are you teasing me?”

“Believe me, I know how to hold my liquor and I am totally serious,” he smirks and drinks from his cup. You want to kiss the smug look off of his face. You might just do that later tonight. No, you will.

“I shall hold you to that promise.”

“I have never doubted that, dearest, however I believe you already have a different partner for the next round.” He points towards the crowd and suddenly the elf children come running back to you.

You stand up, grab the chalice from Thranduil’s hands and take a deep swig of wine. It is rich and bitter and your face scrunches at the taste. “I will dance with you tonight,”  you warn your husband and let yourself be pulled away by a throng of laughing children.

—

The night has given away into the early hours of morning when you get back to Thranduil. The crowds have thinned, the music slowed and the elf children finally went to sleep.

“My love,” Thranduil says standing up, when he sees you. 

You come together like it’s second nature now. He embraces you around your middle and you hide your face in his chest. He smells sweetly of wine and flowers. You would drown in it if you could. 

He cups your face in his big hands and you look up into those cold cold eyes, warm only for you. “Are you ready to fulfil your promise?” you ask, voice low. 

He smiles at you like he does at no one else and your heart melts at the sight

“My king!” you exclaim drunkenly. “Let us dance around the hill one last time and after that I am ready to go to bed,” mumble the end of the sentence into his shoulder, your eyes already droopy. You feel him shake his head at your antics, but then he swoops down and kisses your forehead. You shiver at the gentle gesture. 

Thranduil, with you half leaning on him, leads you by your hand among the elves. A single lonely flute plays a slow melody, you feel entranced by it. The music and your husband's icy eyes lull you into a sleepy daze. 

You twirl in his arms and reach up to inhale his sweet scent, kissing his white throat. He hums above you and winds you to him even closer.

The air is warm and sweet and spring has come.

—

You are led back to your rooms by your husband, leaning on him, drowsy from both the dancing and the wine. 

You let yourself be lowered on the grand bed and look up at him with droopy eyes. “I want to kiss you,” you do not know if it's the wine giving you this courage or your sleepiness. 

Thranduil smiles at that, and it’s incredibly soft, and obliges you. He tastes like always, rich and full. “I love you,” you mumble into his lips. 

“And I you,” he answers, when he pulls away from you, setting himself gently above your thighs.

You don’t like that he is so far away, so you grab his hips and try to pull him back to you. “Please,” you whine. “Please-.”

“Use your words darling, you know I can’t read your mind,” he tuts above you, while starting to undo the lace on the front of your dress.

“Please touch me, I need you,” the fire is burning in your belly and you feel like you might burn if he doesn’t do something. Anything.

“Let me get you out of this dress first,” he promises and smirks, pleased with himself. His hands are careful, but sure, and soon the silky fabric of the bed covers caresses your skin. 

Then he stands up to undress himself. Reaching to take off his crown, he is a sight, naked, his brow adorned by flowers. Pale smooth skin and ice blue eyes. You swear he’s never been more beautiful than he is now.

“Come here, my love,” you say and he does. He lays over you and kisses you hungerly. You moan into his mouth, tangling your fingers in his silky hair, finding some of the braids the children left there. 

“Let me take care of you, dearest,” Thranduil whispers in your ear and you shiver at the thought. He trails kisses down and down until he reaches your thighs and licks and bites there until you're squirming under him, his strong hands pinning you down by the hips. 

“No more, just touch me,” you whine and pull at his scalp harshly.

To your horror Thranduil stops all together. He pulls himself up, your hands still in his hair. Above you he looks like a mythical being, one you should not have the honour to touch. 

“You have gotten so bold since we met. Commanding you king.”

With his slight smile and a teasing tone he brings you back to earth. “But you love that about me, my king,” you smirk at him.

“That is true, yes, but if I am to comply to you, and truly touch you like you want me to, you shall, let me tease you a little. As a treat,” oh, he sounds so proud, high and mighty. Yes he shall tease you, but you shall repay it tenfold.

With a satisfied smirk on his lips he returns to his task excruciatingly slow. He works you up again, lapping at your thighs, biting the skin there and holding you to the mattress by your waist. So the moment he does, finally tastes you with his tongue, it feels like you're going to burst. Dragon fire burns under your skin, unvanquishable, everlasting. Only he, Thranduil can save you. 

He is savouring your taste, as if it was sweeter than any wine he’s ever tasted. He builds you up to your peak slowly, taking his time, until tears of pleasure sting your eyes. The dam brakes, when you come from his mouth alone. It is deliciously painful.

Thranduil wipes his chin with his hand and lays next to you, circling his arms around you. You kiss him again, tasting yourself on his lips, reaching down to touch him. “Meleth nin,” he moans and you watch as his brows scrunch up and his blue eyes roll in pleasure.

You smile for yourself and kiss his neck, biting and sucking. The white skin goes dark quickly under your lips. In the end you don’t have the heart to deny him, and so you don’t tease him much. Still, he doesn't last long at all, for he was already bursting from eating you out. With a few final strokes he moans loudly and comes in your hand. 

You kiss for a time after that, but you both are too sleepy to continue properly. Thranduil, ever the gentleman, offers himself to go find a towel to clean you with. You would so like to watch him, as he prances around the room in all his glory, but you can’t hold your eyes open. You feel his gentle touches and hear his loving words, but at that you are already half asleep. The last you know is your husband pulling you to his embrace, holding you head to his chest.

You slumber as the dawn breaks.

#Thranduil #Thranduil x reader #Thranduil fluff #Thranduil smut #The Hobbit #Lotr #fluff #smut

[sethsclearwater]

I need to see more fluff y/n and Paul blurbs. Like how would he behave when they first get together as a couple?

he would be SO SWEET AND GENTLE😭

...

"paul!" you squealed when you opened the door of your apartment to see him standing there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a soft smile on his face.

"hi princess," he replied with a soft laugh, loving seeing just how excited you were to see him at your doorstep.

the two of you had been seeing each other for about a month and had finally made it official a week prior so this was paul's first time coming over to spend time at your apartment.

you beamed up at him, smiling when he handed you the flowers which you quickly set down on your kitchen island before spinning back around to pull him into a tight hug, "i missed you so much," you mumbled into his chest, eliciting a laugh from paul who returned your hug, making sure he was careful with how tightly he was hugging you.

"you just saw me yesterday princess," he teased, pressing his lips to the crown of your head for a soft kiss, "but i missed you too," he added with a murmur, eliciting a series of giggles from you.

you let out a happy sigh, peeking up at him and smiling when you saw him looking down at your adoringly, "so what are we doing tonight?" he asked after a moment of eye contact and your smile widened before you squirmed out of his grip to go grab the dvd to your favorite movie.

"watching a movie!" you beamed, taking his hand and tugging him a few steps over to your living room, "can you put it on? i couldn't figure it out," you asked, voice suddenly a bit more bashful as your cheeks heated up at your confession.

paul just let out a breathy laugh, offering your hand a soft squeeze, "i got it," he reassured, stepping over to give your forehead a kiss before he was taking the dvd from you.

"okay i wanna go put those flowers in a vase before they die," you added, smiling when paul nodded and allowed you to release your hand from his so you could head back over to your kitchen while he figured out how to get your dvd player on.

"these are so pretty!" you squealed as you set down a vase and scissors next to the flowers so you could get a better look at them, "did emily tell you i like these?" you asked as you began cutting some of the stems off to place them in the vase.

paul shook his head, looking over his shoulder to respond to you, "you told me you liked those on our first date," he said softly, offering you a smile before he was turning his attention back to the dvd player.

you felt your cheeks heating up as you tried to figure out how on earth you got so lucky to have someone who paid such close attention to the little things.

you were quick to finish up getting the flowers into the vase, heading back over to the couch just as paul seemed to get the dvd on, "do you want a blanket? or will you get too hot? i don't know-" you started as you pulled your favorite blanket over your lap, realizing paul would more than likely not even be remotely interested in a blanket considering how hot he normally was.

he just let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he came to sit down next to you, "a blanket is fine," he reassured, wrapping one arm around you to pull you closer to his side as you got the blanket pulled over his lap as well.

paul grabbed the remote with his free hand, "you okay to put the movie on?" he asked, turning his attention back to you.

you nodded, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips that had him laughing, "you're something else," he mused teasingly, sliding his hand up your side to gently knot in your hair and pull you back for another, slower kiss.

you let out a soft sigh of pleasure against his lips, resting one hand against his abdomen as you melted into the kiss. as paul's grip on your hair tightened, you pressed yourself closer to him, both of you working to get as close to each other as possible.

paul was the first to pull back and allow you to catch your breath, letting out a breathy laugh when he saw how blown out your pupils had gotten from just a short kiss.

his grip on your hair softened, gently scratching your scalp with his fingers, "you ready now?" he asked teasingly, smiling when you nodded, giggling as you curled into his side so you could rest your head on his shoulder while he got the movie started.

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote blurb #paul lahote fluff #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight blurb #twilight wolves #twilight wolfpack #imagine #blurb #fluff

[day-drawn-blog]

Jealous over Astarion's affections

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I

I got triggered by some flirtations banter between him and Shadowheart and I realized, my tav, if anything like me, would probably feel extremely jealous too. We are not together yet, so do I even have a claim on him? I needed to write down this scenario.

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace

Part IV: There is much to do and I still want to live

Part V: Our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI : These ain't my sins, I broke my chains

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours?

Part VIII : your blood like wine, invite me in

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

--------

What a day. As you all were sitting down next to the campfire, your eyes couldn't help but wander at Astarion. While you all were fairly new to each other, you noticed, Shadowheart was quite comfortable around Astarion. and Astarion was acting quite familiar around her too. You wished you didn't see that. So you quickly averted your eyes. Every one else seemed to be busy being merry, laughing, drinking and having a good time. So why couldn't you relax?

You stood up, intending to clear your head. Why do you feel such a sharp pang. You don't love him. You barely know him, he may not even be a good person for all you know. What had you hoped? That he would favor you over everyone? But why... is it because, you yearn...

You yearn for him.

Your heart lit up. And then, you remembered, he didn't, yearn for you. He likes Shadowheart. The beautiful Shadowheart. And she is powerful. Of course he would. She was like a dangerous flower. But a flower all the same. And you? Just a nobody, with no past, and a future you cannot envision. Nothing to your name. Except for a sword, bound to you by a pact. Power. To dispel enemies. To fight your way in this madness that has engulfed your world. But they weren't enough. Not enough for him to yearn for you...

You ran.

Through the woods, far away from your friends, and the warm fire. Through the darkness, like your racing mind. Till you were out of breath in a field bathed in silver moonlight. And the world was quiet. And you felt welcome by Nature. And loved. By the world around. There was not a soul around, and you broke down, in tears. As you felt sorry for the state your heart was in. And how brutally it was crushed. You blamed yourself for even getting your hopes up.

You wailed.

Your cries could not be heard by anyone here. You felt grateful for the serenity. You lay on the grass, hugging yourself. Before long, you closed your eyes, and were drifting off due to exhaustion. The day was hard. The night even more so.

Your light sleep was interrupted by the sound of twigs cracking under approaching light footsteps. You jolted up and were shocked at the shadowy figure looming over you. Instantly your hand reached for your Pact Weapon, but the other party - just as shocked initially - cried out in self defense. "Its' me! Astarion! Please, I did not mean to scare you. Please."

You lowered your weapon. But he had some explaining to do.

"I am sorry, I - I didn't realize it was you. I - I thought you were someone else. A bandit. And I, I was going to well... I was hungry."

He took a deep breath. Resolved to his fate. "I would never hurt you. Or any of my friends. I want you to trust me."

"Alright, let's say that is true, what did you want with this.. bandit? You wanted to loot him I suppose." You put your weapon away.

"That's the other thing. I am not sure, if I should be telling you this, but, I am so hungry, and .. and I have been very unlucky tonight, you see."

"Did Karlach not leave you any food? Or were you so distracted, talking to Sha- other people, that you forgot to eat?"

"I, I need blood to survive."

Silence followed. Deafening silence. He looked down. As if he was ashamed. Then looked up at your with pleading yes.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Incredulous, you couldn't believe you had missed the signs that were there all along. Everything pointed to him being a Vampire. So that boar..... But now what? There is a Vampire in your midst! OMG. Had you just put your entire party in danger?! You and your stupid trusting heart. What now? Should you kill him?

"I never, please believe me, I never hurt people I know. Those who are my friends. But please, I am very hungry, I just need... a little bit.. it will help me fight better, and make me feel like myself, again".

He knelt down. On his knees... "If it isn't too much, I only need a little bit - or you are free to stake me".

You looked down at the sorry state he was in. This man who you were yearning for, on his knees, pleading you. He was pleading for your blood. That was the only problem. You didn't want him to, but wanted him to not be in such a state either. You wanted to help him. There went your stupid kind heart again. You never learn.

"Will it hurt?"

Astarion looked up - incredulous that you even entertained the idea. "What? Oh! No, only a little prick. And I can be extra careful too -"

"Does it have to be the neck? Because I don't want-" "And you don't have to - if you don't want to" He had stood up. He lifted your right hand, and lifted it to his lips - placing a light kiss. "I am more than happy, with your hand. May I?" He looked up. A darkness in his eyes. Hunger? Greed? Deception? Maybe all of it. You nod slightly.

He caressed your hand with both of his, dragging his lips over your wrist sending sparks through your body. This felt so wrong, yet your body liked his touch. You could smell his hair, bergamot. He was taller than you. Lit up in the moon, this man was gorgeous. And dangerous, as he was just about to prove himself to be. You looked away as he bared his fangs. You hated anything piecing your skin. Hoping you don't feel a lot, you closed your eyes, and you did not. It was barely a prick like he promised. You were grateful.

After a while, you decided this was more than enough of a favor. You tried withdrawing your hand. He got the hint. He let your hand go and stepped back, and looked at your with a grateful smile. "Would you like me to...escort you back, to camp?"

Should you let him? Weren't you running away from how he was making you feel. Wouldn't Shadowheart notice? What would she think? But, how could you refuse him. After all, you may never get another chance...to walk with him. Through the woods. Just the two of you. Even as friends. Or strangers. You grasped at what you could get.

You two walked back in silence. Him next to you. Every now and again you would look at him. He seemed lost in thought, smiling. You figured he must be thinking of her. Your heart sank, and the gratitude you were feeling at being able to walk next to him, quickly dissipated to pangs of sharp pain again. What started as a romantic moonlit walk quickly turned into an unbearable awkwardness for you, and you wished you were back already. So you quickened your pace.

Very soon, you could see the warm glow of the fire. What a relief. You just need a hug. From Karlach. Or Halsin. And you could forget about the unceremonious way you let your heart pine for a man out of your reach. And upon reaching camp - you did just that. You forsook Astarion immediately and without another glance at him, ran to Karlach and buried your face in her, lest you start crying again. You didn't care what he did, whether he went back to Shadowheart, you did not want to witness that.

Afterwards when the whole camp had quietened down. You hung around with Karlach, Gale and Wyll. You assumed, Shadowheart was in Astarion's tent. And you dare not look that way. You asked those lingering - what their reason to live was. Did everyone have something to live for? What would they do, after all this was over?

An interesting discussion followed. You felt you got to know your comrades a bit better. It made you feel warm. The cold that was left due to the lack on one was filled by the warmth of many, and you smiled. You liked it. And you liked your new found friends.

Later that night, you lay in your tent, and tried to drive away all the thoughts about how no one would miss you. If you were not there, or how you were not as interesting as some of the others. And as you fought hard, with yourself, you realized, that there must be others like you out there who needed someone to know them, to look at them, and value them. And you realized you had a purpose. You could be needed. You could carve out a meaning for your existence in this crazy world. You wanted to be there for those that needed you. You will be the hero. And that would be the reason to exist, you would love yourself, so you can love those who needed to be loved.

And with that comforting thought you drifted away.

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #angst #jealousy #forbidden love #pining

[astrozuya]

GOLDEN HOME — hong joshua.

✦ content‎: ‎joshua x gn!reader. fluff. 0.8k wc, non idol!shua. summary: no matter how bad the storm outside gets, you can always come home to joshua.

the last few remaining rays of sunlight are fast disappearing, and both your long, tiring day and the sun's journey across the sky are drawing to an end.

you're on the way home. the subway is crammed full of worn-out students and office workers, and you have no doubt that the transparent exhaustion displayed on their faces is mirrored on yours as well.

the subway ride feels like it's been hours instead of minutes, and the only thing keeping you going is the thought of the welcoming arms of your lover, joshua, waiting for you at home.

home. you relish the word, probably more than most, because after years of living in cold, hostile houses that felt like they were consuming you, you've found one that supports you. although that may be mostly due to joshua.

he's similar to the idea of a home that way, solid and comforting. he shelters and nurtures, providing a safe haven for you to let go of your troubles and just revel in the simple joy of building a life together.

he holds up the parts of you that are broken or damaged, and cradles them gently in a way no one ever has for you before.

that's one of the reasons why you love him, and it's why you still have the strength to keep going even after bad things and worse emotions leave you feeling like a wreck.

it's why you're quickening your pace, almost breaking into a run when you set eyes on your house. you throw open the door, discard your coat, and then immediately head inside, looking desperately for—

joshua. you draw in a shaky breath, relief clouding your senses. you're home.

there he is, eyes crinkled as he smiles in that familiar, precious way. he stands up and stretches his arms out, laughing softly when you hurl yourself into them, wrapping your arms around him and breathing in his warm, comforting scent.

his gentle fingers stroke your hair. "hi, sweetheart. i missed you."

you want to tell joshua that every moment spent away from him rends your heart, but he knows. you know he does, and you know he feels the same way. so you just bury your face further into his chest and mumble, "i missed you too, shua."

and then he leads you to the sofa, stretching out comfortably and letting you sit on top of him, his arms circling your waist.

"how was your day?" joshua asks, running his hands down your arms, your back, tracing the curve of your shoulder soothingly.

"mm, not great," you say, and joshua doesn't press any further, knowing that when, and if, you want to talk to him, you will.

sighing in content, you slump against him, resting your head on his shoulder as you look around at the home you've built for yourselves.

not the house itself— the building is hardly what matters— but the fact that it's your home.

it's home in the way it's warm, and smells faintly of whatever shua's been cooking that day, kitchen counter still bearing the remains of the process.

it's in the way the walls are covered in photos; of your friends and his friends, and then the two of you: you and shua on holiday; shua in a flower crown; you in the sea, laughing; shua with his arms around you as he presses a cheeky kiss onto your forehead.

it's in the way the house is full of carefully selected furniture and the walls bear art suited to both of your tastes, with little ornaments and pretty things and books and albums lining the shelves.

and most of all, it's your home in the way joshua is here— your safe harbor, your steadfast anchor.

joshua follows your eyes wandering around the house as he plays with your hair absent mindedly. "what are you thinking about?" he asks, curious.

"i'm just happy." you smile and look up at him, admiring the way his tawny sweater brings out golden tints in his eyes and hair, the way soft strands of his brown hair fall messily over his forehead.

joshua smiles because you're smiling, and pulls you a little closer.

his eyes turn crescent-shaped, the way they do when he's really happy, and you swear your heart is melting because how can you love someone so much? how can the world go on as usual when there's this molten, golden love taking over every inch of your being?

you shift in his arms, stretching, and he looks at you, a little panicked. "are you hungry?" he asks. "i forgot to ask you earlier, but you must be tired."

"i'm fine," you tell him, and he frowns, saying, "darling, eat something first, then we can cuddle all you want—"

"i'm a little hungry, but it's fine, shua, i wanna stay like this. just for a little longer?"

joshua huffs, but he's smiling. he leans in close and plants a tender kiss on your cheek, poking it afterwards. "okayy, we can stay like this for a bit. you're lucky i love you."

"i am." and you close your eyes and lose yourself in the rise and fall of his chest.

a/n: i became a carat recently & joshua immediately became my bias so it's only right that this is my first svt fic <3 anyways i hope i did shua justice, and i hope u enjoyed reading this !! <3

#joshua x reader #svt x reader #joshua fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #joshua x gn reader #svt x gn reader #seventeen imagines #joshua hong #joshua imagines #svt imagines #svt fluff

[byeoltoyuki]

✧memories of us ✧ late night talk

↳ Pairing: Jisung x Reader

❧ Genre : romance / smut /fluff / 1st love to strangers to lovers

❧ Summary: Sometimes memories are just that. Memories.

A series of drabbles about you and Jisung, about your love and your heartbreak and a second chance.

❧ A/N: Likes and reblogs are appreciated ♥

Masterlist / previous / next

You had been reading the same page over and over again for the past hour. You couldn’t sleep, your mind going wild with thoughts of your future, of the upcoming move. You tried to fall asleep but after one hour of tossing around, you grabbed your book and tried to distract yourself. It didn’t work out as you had hoped.

Whoever said that growing up was fun, was a liar. There was nothing fun about choosing a path that you weren’t convinced with. There was nothing fun about thinking about a future that was so uncertain. There was nothing fun about parting ways with your friends and your boyfriend. Of course, technology was helpful and you knew that despite the distance you would all keep in touch, but it still saddened you.

You knew the upcoming months would be hard for many reasons. Moving out to another city wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Meeting new people and hopefully making friends was another reason that made you anxious.

“I should stop overthinking.” You told yourself with a long and tired sigh. Every time you tried to stop your mind from thinking about your problems, it just didn’t work.

A noise coming from your window finally put a stop to your thoughts. Startled, you slowly turned your head to your window. Did you imagine the noise? But then, it happened again. You saw a rock hit your window. You lunged out of your bed, stumbling on the way.

Jisung was outside, ready to throw another small rock at your window. Your eyes widened in shock. It was past midnight, he was supposed to be at home, sleeping (or composing).

“What the hell, Ji?” You half yelled half whispered as you opened your window.

A huge smile spread on his face the moment your eyes locked. He didn’t hesitate to climb (and your heart clenched, worried he would slip and fall) to reach you. You hurried to grab his arm and pulled him inside your room.

“You’re crazy!”

“Crazy in love, yes.” He admitted and winked playfully.

You rolled your eyes at him, nevertheless your mouth twitched. How could you be mad when he said things like that?

Jisung looked around; it was his first time in your room and it was exactly like he had imagined. Cozy, warm and smelled of flowers. He jumped on your bed, acting as if he owned the place (not that you minded, having him in your room, on your bed did something to you). He patted the empty spot beside him.

You’d be in so much trouble if your mom found the two of you in your room, but then again, it wasn’t in her character to pay you a visit in your room. You plopped on the bed beside him, instantly wrapping your limbs around him, clinging to him as if your life depended on him. And maybe, in a way, it did.

“I figured you’d need company, angel.” Jisung admitted as he kissed the crown of your head.

You tilted your head to look at him, a little surprised. “How did you know?”

“Why? Because I know you so well!” He was, without a doubt, proud of himself. You slapped his chest in return for being so smug. “What? You know it’s true.”

You buried your head in his chest, inhaling his now so familiar scent. You would miss those moments; lying in bed, holding each other, talking for hours, laughing. You were scared to live in different towns, not being able to see each other whenever you wanted. Could your love survive the hardships? You wanted to believe it could. You wanted to believe that the two of you were strong enough to overcome the obstacles.

Jisung waited for you to speak. He had been with you for a long time to know the pretty mind of yours and how easily you could get lost in yours fears and insecurities. He didn’t want you to keep it to yourself. So, he waited, holding you dearly, stroking your hair.

“Will we be ok?” You finally asked, your voice tiny, unsure of your words, pressing yourself a little harder against him, seeking his warmth and comfort.

“Of course we will, angel. We’ve known each other long enough to withstand whatever the world throw at us. Moreover, what’s two hours of train? We’ll meet every weekend. I’ll keep texting you, so much, you’ll be sick of me.” He promised and it brought a tiny smile to your face, imagining him flooding your phone with his messages, his vocals. There was no way you could get tired of it.

You shifted against him, moving higher so you could peck his lips. “I like the sound of that.” He welcomed your lips with a tiny sigh of satisfaction.

“Good.”

#stray kids #han jisung #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #han x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #memories of us

[loganlermanstanaccount]

sand beyond the sea (I know you're waiting there for me)

(AO3 Mirror) (Main Masterlist) (Event Masterlist) (Event Info)

Tape 1 // Side A Track 08: Seaforth - King Krule Finnick Odair x childhood lost love

warnings: mild angst, fluff, happy ending.

a/n: first drabble for my 6k followers event! i had fun writing this one :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our love dissolves this universe (Our love dissolves the universe)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finnick can't sleep. 

He won't, actually; out of principle. There was a time in his life where he was terrified of the dark, a fear that seeped well into adulthood. He'd ask for the light of gas lamps, keep his window open to let moonlight spill in, or crawl into his mother's bed for comfort. It wasn't the dark, per se, but the nightmares: creatures creeping in the dark, shadows with a bony hand around his neck. And when those nightmares turned into pseudo-memories: of heads hacked off and the sharp prongs of a trident in his chest – well, those ones still keep him up at night. 

This time, though, it's nothing like that. It's all the more surprising when he drifts off into sleep, and instead of nightmares; he dreams. Hazy, wispy ones of sand and salt in the air: of laughter, of love, of you. 

So he doesn't sleep, for a while. Instead, he lies awake in a crisp white room, a thousand miles away from wherever you really are. District 4, probably; still living by a half-hearted cliff's edge, a stone's throw from his parent's house. That's what he sees, sometimes: feels the sand underfoot as you run ragged around rock pools and fall asleep in the sun. Dreams, governed by feeling; touch, taste, smell; of your hands tying loose braids into his hair, and fried fish by the water's edge. He doesn' t need to see you, dreaming or otherwise, to know how much he loves you. 

And so, it doesn't matter how hard he fights it - Finnick always wakes up in the morning with the feeling of your hand on his cheek, warmth rising to the surface of his chest. You'd swirl a stick into sand and explain what you'd learnt at school, that day, a class above him. 

Cold air sinks, Finn; warm air rises. 

And he'd give you a gap-toothed smile, grinning like an idiot even then. 

So you'd float to heaven, he'd say, head spinning as you laugh. And Snow would kick rocks in hell.

Oh my God… what does that even mean, Finnick? 

He'd clarify. Just think you're warm. Somethin' about you. 

Your smile is something etched onto his heart like the carvings you'd make into driftwood, all the way back then. Scratchy hearts, and the both of your initials in bark. 

You're full of hot air, Finn. 

It makes him smile, curled up against the sheets like you're pressed against him. Sometimes, he thinks you were made for one another; spines slotting together like puzzle pieces, two halves of one whole. 

It's stupid, probably, to think of a childhood love like that. To hold onto something he let die, after the Games. His knuckles are white from holding on too long, he thinks. Too tight. 

So he can't sleep, barely does; counting down the days, seconds, hours, until he's back home. Dreams of a beach where you're still there, where your footsteps dance around one another; and aren't washed away by the sea. 

"Finn?" You still live in that old house, grown into your features, and he's grown into gangly limbs. 

He's worn his best trousers, tried to smooth that rogue curl at the crown of his head. He'd brought flowers that remind him of you, sweet and crisp and fresh. You're pretty. So, so pretty; it makes his chest heave and creak. And your hands are cradling his face, his hands are on your waist: they fit, just right. 

Watery laughter, but it sounds exactly how he remembers. Everything else falls away. He sleeps with his head on your chest, that night. It's warm. 

Somethin' about you, he thinks. 

_

_

_

Finnick taglist: @amonett, @neithriddle

#finnick x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #thg #the hunger games #thg x reader #the hunger games fic #finnick odair fanfic #angst #fluff #angst with a happy ending #Spotify

[valkyriepirate]

Elrond x Reader- Always Been Yours

Summary: You and Elrond have been close for many years because of your positions on the council. When an army of orcs unexpectedly attacks Lindon while Elrond is away in the dwarven kingdom, you become near-fatally wounded in battle. Elrond rushes home to find you barely alive, calling the name of your lover in your sleep. Little does he know you are dreaming of him. 

Word count: 4.9k words

Warnings: Battle violence, fluff <3

#1- Always Been Yours

Spring had finally arrived in Lindon, and the air was thrumming with the promise of life. A fresh, warm breeze gently swayed the trees of the forest like a rebellious eddy on the open sea, lifting your long sleeves and carrying your voice to the sky. It wasn’t often that you sang on the palace grounds; while you had a beautiful voice, you never prided yourself in it, but the day was far too beautiful not to let it fill your heart with joy through song. You could almost sense the flowers readying to break the surface of the soil and taste the dew that would settle on their leaves.  

You knelt next to a tree by the river, caressing the dirt with your fingers. Your mother had always said that the forest should be greeted as your dearest friend, for it was your greatest protector. As you ran your hand through the crystalline water, you could imagine her voice intertwining with yours, just like how you two would sing together all those years ago. Being here amongst the trees and the earth made you feel closer to her, as if her spirit lived on in the forest.  

“I didn’t know you sang,” a familiar voice from behind lurched you from your thoughts. You turned around, already feeling the tips of your ears heat in embarrassment, to face your longtime friend.  

“Anyone with a voice to speak can just as well sing, can they not?” You brushed loose dirt from your dress as you stood up.  

Elrond smiled, glancing politely toward the ground. “Many can speak, but not many can sing like you. Please- don't stop on my account.”

“I’m afraid that is a song for the wind and water, not for the ears of well-meaning friends,” you teased.  

“Then it would be best I said nothing at all,” said Elrond.  

“And leave me to go on with silent listeners nearby? I think not.”

You stepped out onto the main path, Elrond falling in step beside you. Even though you were reluctant to let him hear your voice, you felt comfortable in every other way around him. You couldn’t help the little spark of gladness that flickered in your chest whenever he was near.  

“What are you doing out here in the forest?” you asked, glancing sidelong at him. The sun was casting amber hues through his hair, making him look like a crowned prince.  

“Looking for you,” he folded his hands behind him. “The High King Gil-galad is sending me to Forodwaith to establish terms of trade with Durin and the dwarves of Khazad-Dum. He expects me to leave in the morning.”

“So soon? It feels as if you just returned from your last journey,” you said, trying and failing to keep the disappointment out of your voice. Seeming to hear it, he nodded regretfully.  

“Apparently I was specifically requested by Durin. The High King fears he won’t negotiate terms with any elf other than I.”

“Ah, I see. The dwarf wants another excuse to see you.”  

Elrond laughed good-naturedly. “I doubt that. I think I’m simply the one he wants to hit with his hammer the least.”

“You give yourself too little credit, Elrond. You have a spirit more kind and gentle than anyone I know. Even a dwarf can see that.”  

He pinked in the cheeks. “And I think you give me too much credit, (Y/N). Besides, the kindest heart in Eriador certainly doesn’t belong to me. I’m afraid that title is taken by a particular elf-maiden with a lovely voice.”  

A fluttering sensation enveloped your stomach, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling. “When do you think you’ll return?” you asked evenly.  

“In a fortnight, perhaps. Though these trips always seem to take longer than initially planned. You know Disa’s hospitality.”

That you did. You considered the female dwarrow a dear friend. Your position as the general of the Sindarin army sometimes took you to distant lands across Middle-earth, and you had become acquainted with Disa in your travels long ago, before she had married Durin. Though you suspected you were in for a thorough scolding the next time you saw her, if Elrond’s account of Durin’s anger amounted to anything. Your kind were wont to lose track of the days, unlike the mortal races. It made you wonder how long it really had been since you’d seen Disa last.  

“Give her the warmest tidings from me,” you said sincerely. “I miss her dearly. How I wish I could accompany you.”

“I wish much the same,” said Elrond bashfully, not meeting your eyes. “The road travel can be quite lonely and tedious at times.”

“Here.” You bent and plucked a white-plumed daylily from a bush that was rooted in the stream, handing it to him. “Keep it with you. When you feel alone, you can pull it out and think of me.”

He handled the flower reverently, as if you had bestowed upon him a precious jewel. He looked up at you, the sweetest, humblest smile gracing his features. “I most certainly shall.”

The two of you talked far into midday, wandering the forest and ignoring the existence of your duties. Your heart began to ache the more time you spent with him, however, knowing that he was bound to disappear once more, and all too soon you bid him goodbye. There were several things concerning the Sindarin warriors to discuss with the king, and Gil-galad was not one to be kept waiting.  

You slept fitfully that night, Elrond’s face flashing in your mind every time you closed your eyes. You rose before the sun the next morning and raced as elegantly as possible to the road past the waterfall where Elrond was set to depart. Only the guards were awake, nodding respectfully to you as you passed. All of Lindon dutifully recognized your position as a war general even when you weren’t in your armor.  

As periwinkle streaks of dawn bled across the sky, you nearly began to worry that you had missed him, but your worries ameliorated when you caught sight of his robes by the front gates. Elrond was loading his supplies onto his horse, his face turned away from you. Silently, you approached him from behind, hoping you didn’t appear as if you’d rushed out to meet him in a frenzy.  

“Attempting to leave without saying goodbye, are we?” you said into the still morning air. Elrond looked up, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.  

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he tied one last knot around his knapsack. “I only wished for you to have as much rest as possible. It is early to be awake even for I.”  

“So you may say.” One side of your mouth quirked up. “Is everything prepared?”

“Yes. All I need is to collect my will to mount this horse and leave Lindon behind.” His voice caught as he said Lindon, as if he were about to say you.  

Your heart was buzzing inside your chest as if you were a restless bumblebee being separated from your flower. “Do not forget,” you reminded him softly, spotting the daylily tucked into his robe. You reached over and tenderly pressed the petals against his chest. “This flower means I am with you. You will be in my thoughts, Elrond.”

He held your gaze, his eyes filled with some deep emotion you couldn’t express. Gently, he grasped your hand and grazed your fingers with the barest of kisses. Physical affection was rare among your kind, particularly in public, though you sensed the only bystanders observing your interaction were the dandelions beneath your feet and the forest critters slipping between the trees.  

“And you will be in my heart, (Y/N),” promised Elrond. He was the embodiment of a dulcet predawn dream, the kind you wanted to get lost in forever, to never wake up from. Yet you knew both his duties and yours were to the kingdom before they answered your own desires.  

You gave his fingers a slight squeeze. “You will give Durin and Disa my best, will you not?”

He smiled. “I shall.”

“Do be safe. You have duties and friends to come back to, you know.”

“I will do my best,” he bowed. “I am sure my heart will ache with every step I take away from you.”

You parted, feeling as if you were forcing yourself awake from a pleasant dream, and watched as he mounted his horse and trotted away from the front gates. At the end of the path, he halted and turned to face you one last time.  

“Goodbye, (Y/N),” he called.  

“Goodbye, Elrond,” you returned, and didn’t allow yourself to blink until he had passed over the hill into the far reaches of the forest, where the trees seemed to lean down and caress him with their branches as if he were not simply an elf, but a king venturing into a distant land, riding away with your stolen heart.  

*****

A harsh, screeching noise tore you from your sleep. With a jolt of panic, you bolted upright in bed, trying to collect your bearings. Liquid moonlight spilled through your leaf-paned window and leaked over the floor. You judged that it was a little over two hours past midnight. The horrible, dissonant noise seemed to come from all around you. You picked out the sound of Lindon’s warning bell from among the chaos, coupled with pained screams and the sound of something shattering.  

In a heartbeat, you leaped out of bed and grabbed your silver-plated longsword by the door. You burst out of your room and flew down the stairs towards the commotion. The clanging noises intensified as you ran to the royal courtyard. You deduced the source before you saw them- orcs.  

Dozens of the grisly fiends were pouring over the gates, brandishing crude, makeshift weapons and baring their black teeth. Several other elves had already arrived on the scene, defending against the attackers with deadly grace. Swords flashed and arrows flew under the silvery light of the moon, and blood the color of the night sky painted the ground before your eyes.  

You seamlessly entered the battle, lopping the heads off one orc after the other, not stopping to ponder how or why the orcs were leading this raid. Your senses clicked into the mode of war, as familiar to you as breathing. Within seconds, you had effortlessly picked out the opening points of the battleground that were most concentrated by the enemy, and called out regiment orders as more of your brethren rushed into the courtyard. The few elves donning soldier’s gear hastened to obey your command.  

You drove your sword into the gut of a nearby orc and sliced another in half at the waist. The rest of your thoughts fell away with every kill as you allowed your sword to become a part of you, as dexterous and fluid as an extension of your arm. Any sleepiness you might have felt was replaced by an acute focus of your surroundings.  

You worked your way towards the gates to quell the flush of orcs streaming into your territory. With a spin, you dropped three of the beasts at once, moving with all the poise and accuracy of an elven warrior. As you did, you spotted Galadriel at the far side of the courtyard.

You had to step over the bodies of your victims to make berth towards her in the rushing sea, as if you were caught in a dangerous dance between life and death. “Galadriel!” you yelled. “How did this happen?”

“Someone has left the anterior parapets unfortified,” she called back, ducking to avoid a swinging club. “These gates were open when I arrived!”

“How can that be? There are guards stationed here day and night!”

“I do not know. The Dark Lord must have found out about our affairs in Númenor. We are at half our strength. He senses weakness.”

“He won’t find any,” you gritted your teeth. You stabbed a nearby orc in the neck and spun to avoid the spray of black blood. If the Dark Lord thought catching you off your guard would give him the advantage, you were prepared to prove him wrong.

“There is something adrift about this attack. Something...foul. Within the kingdom.”

You raised an eyebrow, though it was doubtful Galadriel could see it in the dark. “You think there is a traitor?”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Or an intruder yet to be detected.”

This troubled you. You were the head of the Sindarin army. It was your job to keep the kingdom safe. If there was a spy under your nose, you would be the first to know about it. Yet with half the army stationed in the Southlands aiding the Númenorians, an attack could come from any side.  

Irrationally, you found yourself becoming steeped in worry for Elrond. It had been days since his departure, and if this orc army had advanced in from the south, it was likely Elrond may have crossed paths with them. While he was more than a capable warrior, standing alone against an entire army wouldn’t be easy even for you. You hoped he had already made it to Khazad-Dum...

Suddenly you cried out in alarm. While you were worrying about Elrond, an orc had approached on your left flank and slashed you across the shoulder.  

Focus, you reprimanded yourself. Do not forget the battle in front of you.  

You dispatched the orc quickly and kicked the dismembered helmet away. Then Galadriel screamed. You whirled around to come face-to-face with the largest orc you had ever seen.  

It was almost twice your size, and armed with a cruel-looking blade. Its armor was detached in places, as if it had outgrown its battle garments too fast for them to be replaced. Galadriel had taken a swipe at the exposed part of its hide, but her sword had lodged in its armor on an angle. In a blink, the orc slammed both its fists into her arm, emitting a sickening crack.  

Her sword dropped to the dirt. You rushed to her side, ferociously stabbing your sword through its calf. The orc roared in pain and slashed at you with its blade. You deflected and thrust upward at its chest, but its height momentarily gave it leverage. It swung again and you narrowly dodged what could have been a fatal slice to the throat.

“Archers, to me!” you yelled over the din of battle. Two elves equipped with bows and arrows raced toward you, taking aim. “On my count!”

You pressed forward, trying to prompt the orc to step into the open. Galadriel took position on your right, one of her arms hanging limply at her side. Together you attacked as fiercely as you could. You needed to wound it somehow and step out of range for your archers to have a clear shot. Any head shots would be futile against its obsidian helmet.  

You moved to the left, trying to keep it distracted, but the orc was swiping at you with its sword in one hand and swatting at Galadriel with the other. You ordered the archers to fire, but most of the arrows struck harmlessly over the thick armor. The ones that buried in its skin didn’t seem to slow it down at all.  

With a growl, the orc hobbled forward and shoved Galadriel to the ground. She cried out as she landed on her broken arm. Without hesitation, you lunged to put yourself between her and your attacker. It raised its blade above its head.

“Fire!” you screamed at the archers, but it was too late. Time seemed to slow down. Arrows flew. Your sword glinted in the light of the moon, sending the world up in a flash of white, and you swung.  

There was a thump and you looked to see the orc’s meaty arm lying in the grass, separated from its body. Its crooked fingers were no longer clasped around its blade. You blinked and gasped, suddenly hit with a wave of pain, and looked down to see that the blade was buried in your stomach.  

One of the archer’s arrows struck clean through the orc’s bare neck, and it was dead before it hit the ground. The sound of it rattled your brain. You felt blood gushing from your torso and trickling down the front of your white nightgown. Your hands grasped the hilt of the orcish blade, but you didn’t have the strength to dislodge it. Your knees gave out and you crumpled.  

Galadriel was frantically calling out your name, but her voice soon melded into the sounds of swords clashing and orcs roaring in the battlefield around you. Your vision went blurry, your lungs desperately searching for air; you were drowning, and all you could see was red before the night itself bled over the trees, overtaking your body completely.  

*****

Elrond rode on a steed of wind and rain. The sky over the next range of hills was darkening so quickly it was as if clouds of ink had been spilled from the heavens, leaking down to the earth in the form of icy droplets that stung his eyes and soaked through his cloak. His heart was pounding in tune with the beat of his horse’s hooves on the soil. Desperately, he pressed one hand against his heart, where (Y/N) had tucked the daylily. He had taken it out each morning of his journey and run his fingers over its soft petals, knowing that with every step he was farther away from her, but feeling her presence in his mind at the very thought of her face.  

He pictured her now and fervently prayed that she was unharmed. Elrond had only been in the dwarven kingdom two days when Durin informed him of the attack on Lindon. The report hadn’t come with many details, only word of casualties among the elves. Elrond was trying to ignore the fact that (Y/N) would have been on the front lines, leading the defense.  

He urged his horse faster. Lindon’s sunset-orange elm trees came into view. He sped into the kingdom, past the gates, and into the royal courtyard. The midnight battle occurred over a day ago, but Elrond could still see the bloodstains painting the ground, a canvas saturated with too much color. He averted his eyes as he dismounted his horse and rushed into the palace.  

Lindon’s exquisite halls, which usually shimmered with magic and light, were opaque and desolate, echoing the sound of thunder and rain pattering against marble. No one was about roaming the palace grounds. It almost seemed that the kingdom was deserted.  

He spotted Gil-galad as he turned the corner, standing in the hall outside the infirmary. The High King, usually so serious and serene, was gazing in concern at the inside of the room.  

“My King,” Elrond said as he approached. “I came as soon as I heard of the attack.”

Gil-galad nodded solemnly. “The Dark Lord sees too much. I’m afraid if he were to advance again, with double the forces, we may not be able to hold our position for long.”

“Our army. Is it...?”

“Intact? Yes. Yet not entirely stable. All we can do is wait and recover.”

“And the wounded?”

The King looked at Elrond and in his eyes was utter sorrow. “Perhaps you should go in.”

Elrond bowed, feeling as though his thoughts were laid bare. With his heart in his throat, he steeled his emotions and stepped into the infirmary.  

It was a wide, circular room, the far side bordered by an arched veranda that opened out onto a terrace with a view of the waterfalls. Curtains of leaves were draped over the arches to keep out the rain, cloaking the room in dim light. Cots layered with forest-green silk were placed evenly about the space. Nearly every one was occupied by a wounded elf. A handful of healers moved about the room, pressing cold cloths to foreheads and spoon-feeding herbal concoctions. A scatter of lit candles cast the place in a sleepy red hue like blood washing away in a river.  

Elrond walked among the wounded. Most of them were familiar faces. Some had sheets pulled over their heads. Others were so scarred and bloodied or covered in salve that he couldn’t recognize them. But there was one elf he was searching for in particular.  

He found her on a cot by the far wall. Her face was so gray that she looked on the verge of melting into a puddle of raindrops. Heavy gauze was wrapped around her navel up to her sternum. Her hands rested peacefully at her sides.  

Elrond’s heart broke at the very sight of her. (Y/N) looked so drained, so lifeless- the stark opposite of the lively elf maiden he knew.  

He lowered into the chair at her side and took her hand in his. Her fingers were like ice. Fighting the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes, he whispered, “I’m here, hiril vuin. It’s me.”

She didn’t stir. Elrond could almost imagine that she was a statue made of marble, carved by a delicate hand, framed in stormy light. Her breathing was so shallow it was hard to believe she was alive at all.  

Elrond didn’t know how long he sat there, staring at her unmoving form. He murmured sweet nothings under his breath as he stroked her palm, as if his whispers would coax her from her sleep.  

A healer came by at some point to check up on (Y/N), but there wasn’t much to do besides dab her forehead with a cloth and make her as comfortable as possible. The healer hummed an old elven healing song over her before moving on.  

“Come back to me,” Elrond whispered as soon as the healer was out of earshot. “You are the light in my life, (Y/N). I cannot walk the darkness alone.”

He reached into his cloak and brought out the daylily. The tips of its petals were wilting, as if responding to the condition of its giver. He leaned over and tucked the flower into (Y/N)’s hair. “There was never a moment you escaped my thoughts,” he said. “You, nin lilui, my daylily, are my dearest friend. Yet you are also so much more.” A tear traced its way down his cheek and dripped onto her fingers. Elrond caressed her cheek, his voice breaking. “You are so much more to me.”

He stayed by her side as the night passed. Soon enough rogue streaks of dawn shone through the curtains. Weariness and heartache weighed him down, but he couldn’t sleep while she was like this. Her eyes moved rapidly beneath her eyelids like she was trapped in a dream and couldn’t find the way out.  

Elrond pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Dawn is here, nin lilui. Do not let the darkness claim you.”

(Y/N) made a sound in the back of her throat. Her brow furrowed in pain. “Nin onlui mel...”

Elrond sat up straight. He searched her face for signs of life. “(Y/N)?”

She mumbled unintelligibly in Elvish. Elrond’s heart raced. “It’s me,” he said. “It’s Elrond. I’m here.”

“Nin onlui mel,” she muttered. “Mi van me, nin mel...”

Where are you, my love?

Emotions clouded Elrond’s mind in a swift blur. She was on the verge of consciousness. She was going to be okay. His daylily hadn’t left him. And yet a bitter taste filled his mouth.  

She was calling out for her true love. And it wasn’t him.  

*****

You ran through an endless forest. Black trees like twisting claws kept bursting from the dirt, redirecting your path. The hungry screams of your enemies echoed from all sides, and you spun in confusion and fear, unsure where to run. You had no weapon. Your nightgown was drenched in blood. Your heart beat frantically in your chest like you were a wild, hunted animal.  

You followed the line of trees, but shadows formed illusions in the darkness. The trees seemed to grasp at you, pulling your hair, tearing your clothes. Everything looked the same. There was no way out.  

The screams sounded closer now. You turned and ran, but the ground was wet and you slipped. When you got to your knees, you realized you had fallen in a pool of your own blood.  

Your vision was hazy, but you could see vicious shapes snarling and snapping out of the corner of your eye. You felt so weak, so tired. Looking up at the gray sky, you were ready to give up hope.

“Elrond,” you sobbed. You yearned for him with an aching you couldn’t express. The thought of him was like sunlight in this dark place. Your Elrond- kind as summer, gentle as a breeze. “Where are you?”

Your enemies howled, and the world was then no more.  

*****

You didn’t remember opening your eyes.  

At first, you weren’t sure what was a dream and what was reality. The shadows seemed to linger around your body, their wispy hands trailing against your skin. Your head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. The gray sky had disappeared, and the light of day was pouring into the room from somewhere.  

You blinked, feeling like your eyelids were made of iron. Your entire body ached. An incisive pain ripped through your stomach as you woke, bringing your surroundings into focus. You laid on a cot in the infirmary. Sitting to your left was an elf with tousled brown hair.  

“Elrond?” you groaned. It was as if your throat had been charred with firewood.

"(Y/N),” he sat forward, holding your hand. In his eyes were a million emotions.  “It’s okay. I’m here.”

The sight of him was going to make you cry. “Oh, Elrond.”

He quickly poured you a glass of water and held it to your lips. “Drink this.”

You obliged, though just the movement of your neck set your torso on fire. You had been wounded in battle countless times, though never as bad as this.  

“You came back for me,” you said. Your voice sounded scratchy to your own ears.  

Elrond looked on the verge of tears. He smiled at you, and despite your pain, giddiness fizzed in your veins. “No sooner had I been in Khazad-Dum two days when Durin gave me word of the attack. I set off again that same hour. I came as fast as I could.” He looked down. “(Y/N), I am so sorry.”

“Elrond,” you reached out and cupped his face. “I am a soldier. Battles happen. Warriors fall. Nothing is your fault.”

He closed his fingers around yours. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were drawn and his hair was a tangled mess. You had the urge to run your fingers through it.  

“(Y/N),” he said carefully, “What were you dreaming of?”

You closed your eyes again, remembering the figures in the darkness, the gnarled trees moving you about the forest like a ghost, the way you were drenched in blood.  

“I thought I was dead,” you responded weakly. “There was darkness, and I was lost- there was so much blood...”

“You were calling out for someone in your sleep,” he said softly.

“I was? W-who?”

You saw the answer in his eyes before he spoke. “’Nin onlui mel.’”

Silence like an ocean stretched between you two. You turned to face the terrace, where the curtains had been pulled back to provide you with a view of the waterfall. “My true love,” you translated, unable to look at him.

He let go of your hand, placing it at your side. He didn’t speak for a long time. The silence was devastating.

Eventually you couldn’t take it anymore. “Elrond-”

“(Y/N)-”

You turned to face him again. He didn’t meet your eyes.  

“It would be a lie to say some part of my heart does not ache,” he said. “Yet the desire of my heart is for you to be happy. I will not get in the way of your devotion to another.”

You tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea forced you back down. “Elrond, I don’t understand.”

“I am sorry if I have been a bother. It was foolish of me to think...to think with such selfishness.”  

“What are you saying?”

He glanced at you. “Whoever he is, as much as I wish not to be, I am, shamefully, envious. I only hope that you can forgive me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “No, Elrond, you don’t understand. There isn’t someone else.” You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Nin onlui mel. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

His expression matched himself on the day you’d given him the daylily- as if your small kindness was as valuable to him as sparkling treasure. “Me?”

You nodded. “I cannot help it. You are the water to my soil; you have made spring bloom once more in my heart where I thought it not possible. You give me hope. My soul longs for you, nin mel. I love you as I love life.”

Tears fell from his eyes. He was beautiful. He brushed a stray curl from your face and murmured, “And to truly live is to love. Will you allow me to love you with all of myself?”

“My love,” you whispered, “I cannot live any other way.”

His lips were soft as he kissed your temple. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in that moment, you had the world.

Masterlist

#elrond x reader #rings of power x reader #lotr x reader #trop elrond x reader #lotr #the hobbit #elrond fanfiction #elrond imagine

[immabethehero]

How Well Do You Know Alma Madrigal?!

A/N: A lil Mother's Day fluff, Encanto style!!!

Mother’s Day has been nothing but loving bliss in La Casa Madrigal. That in itself is making Alma nervous. Bruno, her youngest child and biggest mama’s boy ever, has not given her a gift yet. It’s nearing the end of dinner and not once has he given her a brand new book, or flowers or even new jewelry that she’ll never wear (she might this year though).

Not that she’s expecting much from him, considering that only a year ago he was hiding in the walls of his own house. Still, he’s always gone out of his way to give his mamá a nice gift to show her how much he loved her… and also to one-up his sisters. When the triplets were children, they used to make a game out of Mother’s Day. Every gift was especially bought or made in order to impress her, and to win the award of best Mother’s Day gift that year.

The intensity and the competition lessened as they got older, and as Alma and Bruno’s relationship became more strained. However, even with the tension between the two, Bruno always ensured his mother had a lovely Mother’s Day gift. So how is this year any different?

Come to think of it, Mirabel hasn’t given Alma a gift either, or rather, any gift relating to a series of very specific questions she had asked Alma the other day. Her favorite colour, what holiday did she and Pedro meet, when she puts her slippers on, how she takes her tea, etc. Alma had no idea what that was about, but she answered all of Mirabel’s questions willingly, even one that was supposed to be “a secret”.

As dinner comes to an end, Bruno stands up and taps his glass, catching the family’s attention. Alma gulps.

Bruno clears his throat. “As you know, today is Mother’s Day, and you know what that means. Presents for our glorious mamás.” He gestures to his sisters and Alma. Alma raises an eyebrow.

“So to celebrate my own wonderful mamá, I have created a wonderful new game show! Everyone come to the living room, please!” Bruno dashes out of the room, Mirabel hot on his trails. The rest of the family exclaim in excitement and confusion. Mirabel suddenly runs back in, wearing a comically large pink bow tie around her neck and a top hat the same colour of Alma’s dress. She walks over to her grandmother and holds out a hand.

“¿Nosatras iremos?” she asks. Alma laughs and takes her hand, allowing the girl to guide her to the living room, where a huge painting has been set up, bearing the words “¿Qué Tan Bien Conoces a Alma Madrigal?” Bruno holds his arms out, beaming.

Alma bursts out laughing. Bruno had mentioned once before how in the future, people will partake in “game shows”, where questions are asked and the right answers are rewarded. This explains Mirabel’s questions.

Bruno glows with excitement as he guides Julieta and Pepa to three coloured wooden podiums, each painted in their signature colour, before taking his place at his own green box.

Mirabel guides Alma into her comfy armchair while the rest of the family gets settled in their own seats. Once the family is settled in, Isabela sprouts a large flower shaped like a sphere.

Mirabel takes it and asks, “Who’s ready to play our favourite game?”

She and the family yell out, “‘¿Qué Tan Bien Conoces a Alma Madrigal?’!”

“Welcome one and all! I’m your host, Mirabel Madrigal!” Mirabel continues. “In this game, three contestants will answer questions regarding their mother, and the winner who knows her best will be crowned this year’s favourite child!

“I’ll ask a series of questions related to Abuela, and if you know the answer, tap your toucan and say it loud and clear! Right answers will get you 10 points each, and wrong answers will subtract 10. If any question stumps you, you may ask one audience participant to help you. Good luck!”

Bruno, Pepa and Julieta raise their hands, ready to tap their toucans at the first question. All three wear the same look of determination, the kind that Alma used to see when they were kids. Dios mio, she’s missed watching them play like this.

A rat pushes a box of cards towards Mirabel. She picks one up and says, “OK, first question: What holiday did Abuela and Abuelo meet at?”

Julieta taps her toucan, who squawks. Mirabel turns to her. “Julieta?”

“¡Día De Las Velitas!” Julieta says.

“That is correct!” Mirabel says. In the audience, Agustín and his daughters cheer loudly.

“Next question: what time does Alma put on her purple slippers?”

Bruno’s toucan squawks. “4:30 pm!”

Mirabel winces. “That is incorrect, sorry, Tío. Anyone else want to try?” Bruno’s confident smile fades.

Pepa’s toucan squawks. “4:35 pm!”

“Tía Pepa is right! Ten points for Pepa!” Pepa’s family cheers.

“Ha! I told you so, Bruno! You didn’t believe me!” Pepa teases. Bruno playfully sticks his tongue out at her.

“Give me a break, I was in the walls for ten years! Things might have changed!”

“That specific schedule never changed, Bruno. Are you going to keep using that excuse for every question you get wrong?”

“If it makes you mad, then yes.”

“NEXT QUESTION!” Mirabel yells. “How does Alma take her tea?”

The next hour is pure joy for Alma. She laughs at her children’s antics as they answer each question, quips between triplets and shouts from the audience making it all the more fascinating.

“I told you she likes the blue ones more, Pepa! Who’s the dumb one now?!”

“Mamá, what do you mean you didn’t like the soup I gave you when you were sick?! I thought you loved that flavour!”

“Tío Bruno, it was the butterfly earrings that Manolo the Fourth rescued from the sink! Manolo the Fourteenth just told me!”

“I WAS RIGHT?! I was just guessing!”

30 questions later, the triplets are tied. The family sits at the edge of their seats as Mirabel takes the last question out of the envelope.

“This final question will determine the true winner and favourite child,” Mirabel warns. “This last question is worth 1000 points. Contestants, are you ready?”

A chorus of “yes” rings through. Mirabel takes a card out of her dress pocket. The triplets lean forward, hoping to ring in first.

“What is Alma’s favourite hair clip?”

Ah yes, the trick question. Alma had come up with it herself, given that she never wore hair clips any more. But surely one of the kids remembers the pretty bird-and-branch beaded hair clip she used to wear during church and fiestas. Then again, they were eight when she last wore it.

“Is it shaped like a candle?” Bruno guesses, half-jokingly. Mirabel shakes her head.

“Does it have a butterfly on it?” Julieta asks.

“Surprisingly, no,” Mirabel says.

“Was it a gift from Papá?” Pepa questions.

“Actually, my sister gave it to me,” Alma says. “It was a birthday present.”

Silence follows. Alma purses her lips in frustration. How do none of the kids remember?!

Mirabel nervously turns to the audience. “What about you guys? Do any of you know?”

Agustín and Félix both look confused. They’ve never seen Alma with anything in her hair other than the ribbon used to hold her bun.

“Is this a trick question? I mean, I’ve never seen you wear anything other than your usual bun and a sunhat,” Félix finally says.

Alma can’t believe it. Surely Isabela, who she has told many stories of her youth to, would remember? Has Alma passed it down to her already? Alms turns to her.

Isabela wears the same stumped expression as her mother.

“Have I not told any of you about my favourite clip?” Alma asks. “I still have it upstairs! I can bring it down and show you.”

Mirabel raises her hand. “I know about it. I can get it-”

“Yes, I told you for this game, but-”

“You were showing me some of the stuff in your room while I helped you clean it out,” Mirabel continues. “I was around four at the time? I still remember it being in the first drawer of your bedside table.”

Now that Alma does not remember. Still, she thanks Mirabel and lets her run upstairs to grab it.

Soon enough, Mirabel returns with the bird-and-branch hair clip, still as pretty and as new as the day Alma received it.

“That’s your favourite hair clip?!” Bruno exclaims. “Huh. I don’t remember ever seeing that.”

Murmurs of agreement ring through the crowd. Alma shrinks in her seat. How much of her life had she hidden away from the family?

Sensing his mother’s embarrassment, Bruno clears his throat. “Um, well, in that case! Mirabel Madrigal, as the winner of this year’s Mother’s Day game, you win the privilege of presenting Mamá with my real Mother’s Day gift!”

Mirabel’s jaw drops. “Wait, what?! Tío Bruno, are you sure you want-”

“To do this? Yeah!” Bruno says. He whistles, and Casita rolls in a large box with the biggest green bow known to Alma sitting on top.

“Or Casita can do that,” Bruno says. He nudges it towards Alma, bouncing on his toes. “Go on, open it up!”

Alma laughs at his excitement as Mirabel unties the ribbon and opens the box. She and Bruno lift the present out…

“Oh my!”

Bruno has painted a beautiful picture of the family at a beach, sitting under trees as they enjoy a lovely picnic. Alma is seated in the center, a lovely smile on her face.

“Earlier in the month I had a vision of all of us finding a beach outside of the Encanto,” Bruno explains. “I decided to turn the tablet into a painting! It was a beautiful vision, the best I’ve had in a while.”

“I asked the animals the best route to get to the beach! They can lead us!” Antonio adds.

“So what do you say? Tomorrow we have our first ever beach day?” Bruno asks, eyes sparkling. Behind him, Julieta and Pepa glance at each other in mock disappointment, knowing they’ve lost this year’s Mother’s Day competition.

Alma laughs. “Of course. Gracias, Brunito.”

#alma madrigal #bruno madrigal #mirabel madrigal #disney encanto #encanto #encanto fanfiction #mother's day #apparently i can write #writing #immabethehero

[synthetickitsune]

A Prince and His Flower ✧ k.sy

Pairing: Prince!Hoshi x reader Genre: fluff, royalty au/arranged marriage au Summary: You know that love is something to be overlooked for the sake of politics, but maybe you wish your upcoming marriage with Soonyoung was more than a practical affair. You try not to get your hopes up, not very successfully, but who could blame you when the prince seems as smitten with you as you are with him? Word count: 2k A/N: based on this imagine by @imagine-svt; I'm still not happy about how this turned out but I've already rewritten and edited this twice and I just love the idea so much and I've tried ㅠㅠ

It was arguably pretty random when Soonyoung asked you, hours earlier - and in hindsight it seems important to stress it was also only hours before the ball - about your favorite flower.

It was cute too. The way he tried to be nonchalant, but his cheeks soon had that pinkish tint to them as he went through the small talk he wrapped the question in. His hum was thoughtful, nod slow, as he took in your answer. It was… strange.  

Then again, Soonyoung is like that sometimes. You’ve learned it’s better to just humor him. He’s too stubborn and when he starts pouting, your heart and your will get too weak to resist him. It’s unfair. Honestly, you don’t understand how the future king can be so lovable and carefree when he’s chatting with you and yet so unyielding and wise during diplomatic meetings. How are you supposed to stay rational and unaffected when faced with that?

Sometimes you wonder if he had a say in choosing his future partner. He isn’t the type to let others dictate what his life is going to be like - well, at least not all of its aspects. Being a crown prince, his hands are pretty much tied. Of course he can’t live his life as he wants to, but from all that he’s told you, he doesn’t seem to mind the responsibility, and is preparing for his future role dutifully. At the same time, instead of horse riding and shooting ducks and whatnot, he demanded to learn how to dance. You found the idea ridiculous when you first heard about it - or rather the image of young Soonyoung stomping his feet and demanding his father, the king, to allow him to learn dance was too funny in your head. Months and many occasions of actually seeing him dance later, you have to say it was the best decision the king has ever made to let his son pursue his passion instead of forcing the traditional hobbies ‘fit for a king’ onto him. Not that he could avoid them completely, but they didn’t make up his entire personality - as was the case with some of the other princes you’ve met throughout your life.

So maybe it’s not all that impossible that he’d be the one to choose you as his future partner… right? 

You really have no idea why you keep hurting yourself thinking about it. It doesn’t matter, after all. One way or another, that’s how it is. Besides, your future marriage was decided long before you actually met. So even if it was him who suggested it, the reason behind it wouldn’t be the great chemistry you have now, or how easily you can communicate and make each other laugh, or how teasing and bickering come to you as naturally as supporting and comforting one another. None of that was true back then - you were strangers, barely even aware of each other’s existence. The reason for your marriage was, naturally, political. And that would remain to be true regardless of who came up with it. 

Maybe you just wished your life and marriage was different from breeding horses and dogs. Just something practical, meant to be efficient and to serve a purpose, to produce certain results.

Maybe you just wished there was more to it. Fate, perhaps, or something like love at first sight.

It was easy to fall in love with Soonyoung. Too easy. And it’s impossible to ignore those feelings - or to hide them you’re sure, even if you hope for the contrary. Again, you shouldn’t be blamed since you can’t help it. You love him. You just don’t want to. Because you can’t be sure it’s not all just your mind trying to protect itself - that’s what you tell yourself, despite knowing it’s more of a question whether he feels something towards you too. 

Of course, you’re the one who witnessed firsthand the growth of your relationship. You’ve seen it all - from the initial polite curiosity, to the genuine curiosity, to the fond and, you’d like to believe, loving gaze he wears whenever he looks at you. The one that makes your heart race. Soonyoung's feelings towards you are obviously warm. Maybe you'd be willing to believe he feels the same as you do, that he's just as in denial and protection mode as you are, if only you were thinking rationally.

But you're far from rationally thinking, stuck on the hurtful fact that no one takes your feelings seriously. That had the marriage not been arranged and were you feeling the same, and if they were mutual, nobody would care.

Sometimes you wish you were only mere commoners, allowed to fall in love and marry and not care about the impact your actions will have. Then you could have the marriage you wish for, based on mutual respect and love. One where he would watch you with those eyes of his, so full of love it’s suffocating.

He’s watching you now, with those loving eyes, from where he stands on the opposite side of the ball room. It’s too far to actually see him and the details on his face, but you’ve seen the way he looks at you more than enough times to know. You’re so stupid to be imagining it.

And he’s so stupid too. Watching you instead of paying attention to his advisors that are no doubt telling him how the ball will proceed or the introductions being made. Yet you still blush, your heart fluttering. You could almost imagine that your marriage is more than just a deal.

People often tell you that you sabotage your own happiness, and you wonder whether they’re right.

Because even though he’s looking at you like he can’t see anyone else, all you think about is how this could all be just a play he puts on. A lie you don’t even believe in yourself, but you try.

Because even as Soonyoung walks towards you, and you see the flower in his pocket and recognize it as your favorite, you focus on the logistics - the flower is native to your kingdom, hours away, there’s no way anything could be done to get it here in time - rather than the flower as a gesture. You have to, because if you don’t you might start believing it’s a sign of more than just an observance of formalities. 

“May I have this dance?” the prince smiles, offering you his hand. You accept, of course, and you try not to shiver at the perfect feeling of your hand in his. 

He guides you through the steps with practiced ease. You know he loves to dance and that he's a much better dancer than you. He’s a perfectionist, you remind yourself, and he must be annoyed with the mistakes you make and that’s why he holds you so tight, why he presses your bodies together any chance he gets. Anyone would be lucky to dance with him. He could make anyone look like they possess skills on par with his.

You avoid his eyes even though you feel his gaze on you. Instead your eyes remain glued to the flower. It reminds you of home, of your childhood and time long ago when you weren’t in love with a prince who’s all you could wish for. Is a genuinely love-filled marriage too much to ask for?

“It’s really pretty,” the prince says and it startles you enough that your eyes meet his. He noticeably perks up and you curse yourself. That tiny smile he wears is too adorable not to fall for. “I was thinking we could use them for our wedding too.”

Your steps falter, but he’s quick to adjust to it, making the mistake seem natural. 

“Is something wrong? You’ve been distant today,” he lowers his head and his voice, close enough that you could forget the world if you allowed yourself the luxury.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you tell him curtly. The wedding… It’d be beautiful, and you can’t say that you weren’t thinking that the flowers of your kingdom would be perfect. Maybe that’s why it hurts more. It doesn’t feel right planning a wedding with someone who’s just the perfect match in the current socio-political context.

“Look, I know everyone keeps staring at me,” he sighs, and it surprises you again. Now that you look around, you see that he’s right. Every man and woman is looking at Soonyoung, and despite your better judgment you use the next twirl to move closer to him. You see him biting his lip to start smiling and it’s not good for your heart. “I know, but I really tried to make them see I’m yours.”

Definitely not good for your heart. Your head spins and you blame it on the dancing.

“How did you get the flowers here?” you ask instead, try to deflect before you start overthinking. But he starts blushing and it’s just as lethal. He’s so nervous it’s you who has to correct him this time.

“I… I actually arranged for them to be grown here, in the greenhouses behind the castle,” he says and winces at your expression, “I’m sorry! I just wanted you to feel more at home here, and these were the only ones I remembered from my trip to your kingdom.”

Something about your shock must be registering in his brain as anger because he keeps whispering apologies and explanations and god, your friends were right, weren’t they? This isn’t something you do just to seem like the perfect husband in the eyes of the people of your partner’s kingdom.

“I wanted to propose to you with them. I thought it’d show I accept our differences - and I know it’s stupid, okay? I just wanted to do something romantic,” he deflates a little, but it matches the music, completely natural and inconspicuous to the onlookers. You think your heart is going to burst. You’re so stupid. He’s so stupid. “I know you’re not marrying me because you want to, but I really like you, and I want to grow old with you… even if you only like me as a-”

“Why didn’t you say something?” you hiss, and alright, you might be a little angry, or maybe it’s just the adrenaline, “God, Soonyoung, why didn’t you say you like me? I thought you only saw this as a business.” He looks as bewildered as you feel. 

“I thought it was obvious!” he whisper-shouts. It’s fortunate that you’re a little bit away from the other couples and the people standing around the room. “Do you think I’d sneak out for anyone else? Or give them private dance lessons? Or grow flowers for them - and don’t even get me started on that! That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done!”

“What are you talking about?” you try to mind your volume, you really do, “You got people for that!”

“Yeah, but that wouldn’t be right!” he argues right back and you’re really bringing too much attention to yourselves, “That wouldn’t be romantic at all! I wanted to do this for you and-”

You swear you’re not one to break the decorum. 

You never act in any way that could tarnish your or your kingdom’s reputation. 

So you have no idea why your arms are around Soonyoung’s neck and why you’re kissing him in front of everyone.

The music’s stopped, and he’s kissing back, and maybe they’re still playing you just can’t hear them over the heartbeat in your ears. 

You keep your eyes closed, so you can’t see the smiles on your and the prince’s fathers’ faces. But you hear the buzz around you and feel Soonyoung smile into the kiss and so you smile too.

Your friends were right. You should’ve realized, but having the prince confess makes up for the lost time, as does the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands around your waist pulling you so close to him. And perhaps, just perhaps, you like that everyone knows he’s yours and you’re his and that it’s not just for the show.

#seventeen #hoshi #soonyoung #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader

[snaililita]

🌼Halo of Flowers🌼

Lyney x Reader

Tooth-Rotting fluff!!

Reader's gender is unspecified!!

I've noticed a lot of Lyney angst fics... and a lot of Lyney fics haven't been radiating the same vibe that they were when Fontaine was first released.... So I wanted to make something happy and just... yknow... peaceful!! The twins and Freminet have been through a lot... I just wanna see them have a moment of tranquility:')

!!MILD SPOILERS: Snezhevichs' backstories and the ending of the Fontaine story! But it pretty much just goes "oh this isn't a threat anymore" doesn't really say how. But still, you have been warned.!!

You longed for moments like these. Peaceful, quiet moments where nothing but the wind singing harmonies from lands far away in your ears and the birds reciting poems about the sights they had seen on their travels from wherever they once were to where they are currently are present in the air. When it was just you and the people you love most enjoying life without worries of impending doom or where your next meal was to be had. These indeed were the best moments, the moments you lived for.

You, the magician twins, and their younger brother were all together in one place, safe and happy. Freminet was a little ways off in the distance, but not out of earshot, looking at sea shells. Lynette was off under a tree not too far off as well, preparing tea and a flip up table with snacks of hers. As for you? You sat out in the field with Lyney's head in your lap as you comb your fingers through his lovely blonde hair.

He looked so peaceful. There wasn't a single worry plaguing his mind right now. Everyone he loves is safe! And he hadn't any upcoming shows- Fontaine's flood crisis had been solved as well! You had to admit, the look of pure bliss is a wonderful fit for his handsome face. You couldn't help but smile as you felt your heart swell knowing just how truly happy he was right now. After everything he and his siblings have been through, he truly deserves this. They all do.

Intertwining your fingers with the blades of grass beneath your hand, you decide to look away from Lyney's hypnotic features for a moment. You're glad you did because you spotted a patch of sweet flowers and dandelions right within reach. Reaching out, you pick as many as one fist can hold before regretably retracting your other hand from your beloved's head for a moment.

This of course disturbs him, he opens his eyes briefly and catches the view of you weaving the stems of the flowers together as quickly as you can, clearly having not noticed him wake up. Working your nimble fingers dexterously, you quickly finished a flower crown. The yellow petals gave it the appearance of a halo, a halo befitting of the angel who's head you placed it upon.

You set the lovingly crafted crown on Lyney's head as gently as you could as to not disturb him, only for a cheeky grin to spread across his face and one of his stunning, violet eyes to peak at you from between his lashes. You had been caught! Lyney snickered at your appalled expression as he sat up, careful not to loose the crown in the process.

He looked so radiant and beautiful, truly like an angel that the stories from your childhood described. He had been through so much, burned and bruised, betrayed and scorned.... and yet... he still gave his heart to you. Willingly. And now he sits before you, smiling- laughing so joyously as if you were some sort of goddess that had descended upon him.

He seemed to notice your silence and staring, he asked what was wrong and you simply smiled and shook your head. You told him that you were captivated by his sparkle, and how he looked like an angel with that flower crown on. Your angel. He gently smiled and pulled you in for a hug, resting his head in your shoulder and sighed. It was not a sigh of exhaustion, rather a sigh of contentment.

You couldn't help but wrap your arms around him, accepting his embrace to the fullest. He leaned back before giving you another one of his cheshire like grins, then attacking you with an myriad of light pecks all over your face and neck. One after another, he was absolutely ruthless. You were giggling like a little baby due to your ticklish nature and Lyney's well placed smooches before a familiar voice called out.

"Well, I had made tea but by the looks of it, it appears you two's lips are already preoccupied so I suppose I'll have an extra few cups."

Lynette chided you and her brother. You two of course quickly pleaded with her as you scrambled to your feet, running off to her direction much to her amusement. Ah yes... peaceful moments like these truly are the best of them all. It's so wonderful knowing that these moments are to become much more frequent in the future.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#adelita writes #lyney x reader #genshin lyney #lyney #lyney comfort #lyney fluff #lyney and lynette #soft lyney #lynette too #i love them so much #Please everyone stop being so mean to the twins in your fics they did nothing wrong #They just wanted to be friends #We are pals with Tartaglia and he tried to flood a nation #These guys are doing the exact opposite #What they heck #Traveller is a hypocrite

[andkisses]

♡ always, promise | sunoo ♡

you decide, snuggled up as the weather turns colder, that sunoo deserves all your love

♡ sunoo x gn!reader | wc. 1.4k ♡ genres/tropes: domestic, fluff, two dorks in love who say it ♡ mentions of/warnings: sunoo calls reader a pet name ♡ a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i wrote and posted YEARS ago; unfortunately it was eaten up when i accidentally deleted my blog :’) it was originally for mingyu from svt ♡ masterlist ♡

Rain showers the roof in soft pats, sliding down the walls and running over the windowsill before continuing it’s journey downward.  Outside, the trees and grass and flowers have become an electric shade of green, with the leaves glowing in the fresh water.  Wind blows the light raindrops around in swirling circles, creating a delicate mist that moves and breathes at a moment's notice.

Just inside, separating cool from warm, is the fireplace, flames licking and crawling around the logs. They crackle and spit when the wind rushes or when raindrops slip down the chimney. A warm glow casts around the living room, where the heat keeps the winter chills at bay.  Soon, the weatherman figures on the television, the rain will change into sleet and then into snow.  By tomorrow morning, he determines, there should be a good foot of fluffy white snow blanketing the ground. Double check your plans, he warns, because some things will have to change.

But you don't have plans.  You hardly even hear let alone register what the weatherman is droning on about over your heartbeat.  And you swear you can hear his, too.

Every single blanket the two of you owned, including the fluffy comforter off the bed and the soft throws from the couch and every extra one from the linen closet, were tossed onto the floor between the couch and the fireplace. The coffee table has long been pushed aside and forgotten along with the cooling mugs of cocoa and coffee resting on top.  Every single pillow has made its way down with the blankets, too.

And then there’s the two of you, snuggled up in borrowed hoodies and long pants and warm fuzzy socks.  You're in one of his hoodies—you "borrowed" and never returned (partially because it's warm and partially because smells like him) but he never asked for it back (partially because he knows you love it and partially because he loves how it looks on you).  You're both buried beneath the blankets and pillows, but still close enough to feel the fireplace's heat to feel delightfully toasty.

Close enough to feel each other's warmth.

Your hands find their way to cup his cheeks, and he leans into your touch, eyes closed with a soft and peaceful smile on his face.  A frown shapes your lips.  “You're still cold,” you say, pinching his still-red cheeks.  “You shouldn’t have come over in the rain.”

He laughs, giggles turning his cheeks warm beneath your touch. “What are you? My mom?” He reaches out to boop your nose. “I distinctly remember you saying you were lonely and asking me to come over.”

You make a face, scrunch your nose–because he’s right. You were lonely and you did ask him. And you had been paying attention to the weatherman earlier, imagining the snow and ice and what it would be like to build pillow forts with Sunoo and keeping each other company. He’s already closed his eyes again, melting into the touch of your hands. God, you’re so in love with him.

But you don’t let him know that. That would be embarrassing. Instead, you counter, “You could get sick.”

One eye slowly peers open mischievously, the matching eyebrow quirking up. “Me? Sick?” He laughs again, shuffling closer to you.  His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in, and you end up with your own arms around his neck.  He plants a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, and even though you can’t see it, you can feel his smile against your skin.  You must have me mistaken for someone else.  I'd never get sick.”

You stay there like that for a while, a smile secure on your lips, you nestled in his arms and safely tucked under his chin.  He curls into you, almost like a kid who’s spent too long from home.  A drowsy state falls over the room, and you see everything through warm, hazy vision.  Outside, the rain had turned to sleet, just as the weatherman predicted.  It pinks at the windows. From behind the clouds, the sun begins to sink below the horizon, taking the little light with it. The streetlights turn on.  The flames of the fireplace continue to flicker, casting everything in a moving orange glow.

“If we fall asleep now, we’ll ruin our sleeping schedule,” you murmur, already feeling the warm hands of sleep coaxing you away from the land of the awake.  “We’ll wake up at like four in the morning.”

Sunoo pulls you a tad closer, hands spread out, one splayed against your ribs and the other running soothing patterns over your back.  “Or,” he begins, eyes glittery in front of you with firelight, “we fall into a deep slumber and don’t awaken for thousands of years, but when we do, we'll be rulers of a magical land.”

You blink, eyes tired. You can’t help the smile on your lips. “Would you be the king?”

“Yeah, but I'd let you do whatever you want.”

A lazy laugh escapes your lips, and you move your arms from his neck to wrap them around his torso, to hold him close, face tucked into his chest. He's precious, you realize suddenly, and you feel as if he needs protecting.  You think back to when you first met, and he was a cute, bubbly, adorable hot mess trying to start a conversation with you.  His confidence clashed with his nerves about you. His cheeks had flushed red hot and he could hardly look you in the eye, but when he did, all you saw was genuine sincerity and child-like curiosity.  When he finally asked, "would you be my friend?" you couldn’t fathom how someone could possibly say no.  The next memory, the one where immediately after you said yes he jumped and giggled like you told him Santa was actually real and on his way right then.

“You're smiling, I can sense it,” Sunoo coos, drawing more circles onto your back with his fingertips.  “What’cha smiling at, honey bee?”

You shake your head, slightly embarrassed by how such a simple, faraway memory could make you feel so giddy and lightheaded.  It pairs with your feeling from earlier–how madly you love him–and you know your face is red. “It’s nothing.”

Sunoo pulls away slightly, a small smirk across his lips, mischief in his eyes.  “Nothing, hm?” he echoes.  He quirks his eyebrow up again.  “If nothing does this to you, I'd love to be nothing.  I’d be able to make you smile all the time.”

You can’t get your hands to cover your cheeks fast enough, so you bury your face in his hoodie, listening to the charm of his giggles as he laughs at your antics.  You pull him even closer, and you feel him do the same, enveloped in his warmth.  

Then, he whispers, soft and tender. “I love you,” he says, and you’re convinced your heart is about to burst. “You don’t have to say it back yet; I know it’s big, and—”

“I love you, too.” The joy in his eyes, growth of his smile, how his touch holds you that much more. It makes it all worth the nerves you felt building those worse, convincing yourself to say them before you took Sunoo up on his offer of not saying it back. You really lucked out with a boy named Kim Sunoo.

“Always?” he asks, a tone of seriousness. You know there’d been people before you; you know they weren’t always as kind or as protective with his heart. If they were, you wouldn’t be here, and he wouldn’t be in your arms pleading with you. “Promise?”

Kim Sunoo, you decide, deserves a soft, good love. Before you kiss him, you see snowflakes falling outside. You imagine the two of you, bundled up, running around and playing. You can see snowflakes landing on Sunoo’s lashes, imagine him laughing as he pulls you in for a kiss, hands on your waist. You can imagine helping give him everything he deserves.

“Promise,” you reply. You kiss him then, soft and delicate, ignoring your crazed heartbeat. When you pull back, you move your hands from his cheeks to the back of his head, carding through his locks before moving him to be tucked beneath your chin. Sunoo curls against you, a happy hum against your throat as you continue to stroke through his hair. “Always.”

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #k-labels #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarioes #enhypen imagines #sunoo fluff #sunoo headcanons #sunoo scenarioes #sunoo imagines #prose #enhypen #sunoo

[tanjirosjuliet]

Prettiest Flower

A/n : ahh it's been so long since I uploaded right? It felt so weird opening up my notebook and begin to write. Anyways here's a lil fic I wrote a few days ago. Just a reminder I'm going to post every Wednesday and Sunday now!!!

Warnings - none !

Genre - fluff

Pairing - Tanjiro x reader

Words - 680

As the sun dipped below the horizon, I found myself walking next to my sweetheart, Tanjiro. We had an extremely strenuous mission from which we were returning. Now that the stress of the mission had lifted, it left behind a sense of accomplishment and a longing for the comforts of home. On the way, suddenly, amidst the fading light, was a beautiful flower field stretched out before our eyes, mostly filled with dandelions. I gasped and tugged at Tanjiro's sleeve, "Look! Oh my gosh, a flower field! I've never seen one before it's so pretty!" I said in enthusiasm as Tanjiro marveled at my excited demeanor. Entranced by the flower field's beauty, me and Tanjiro exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between you to explore this unexpected treasure. Different scents from all directions hit Tanjiro's nose. I giggled as I looked at him making faces while trying to adjust. Tanjiro's calloused hands ran over the soft gorgeous flowers around the field, this was something he missed alot, he used to visit a humongous flower field not too far from his house alot in the summers as a kid but this was the first time in a while where he actually visited one again. A wave of sadness and nostalgia washed over him as he his lips turned downwards. I held his hands and caressed them, "Are you okay, m'love?" I asked him sympathetically as we walked through the field, thinking it might make Tanjiro feel better. "Yeah" Tanjiro let out a weak sigh, clearly missing his family. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the landscape. I watched in awe as the birds soared overhead, their graceful silhouettes dancing against the vibrant canvas above. In the distance, the lights of the village began to flicker to life, a comforting reminder of the civilization amidst the wilderness. Lost in the beauty of the moment, me and Tanjiro found ourselves laughing and playing like children, the weight of our responsibilities momentarily forgotten. Our laughter echoed through the field as we played tag. His laughter and joy was infectious, I don't remember the last time I saw him like this, so carefree and full of energy even after a mission. Laughing and giggling, we collapsed on the grass below us, "Caught you!" Tanjiro said panting and giggling. His hair brushed against my cheek as he scooted closer to me. As we sat in the field, my eyes were focused on the ethereal view ahead. Soft breeze whistled through my ears as I closed my eyes. These were the fleeting moments of pure joy demon slayers wanted amidst the chaos of our lives. Tanjiro, knelt down amidst the dandelions, his nimble fingers plucking the delicate stems with care. With a playful glint in his eyes, I saw him crafting a dandelion clown, his hands working with practiced precision. I watched in admiration, marveling at his creativity and skill. The sun dipped lower below the horizon, painting the sky into pinks, purples and deep blue stretching miles behind us. Tanjiro presented me with his creation—a whimsical dandelion clown, its petals arranged oh so precisely as if he was trying to mirror the way I make him feel. The way he was presenting the flower crown was like a toddler sweetly presenting a flower to his crush. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight, a warm feeling spread through my chest at the thoughtfulness of his gesture, "Aww, love, you really didn't had to do this much" I said, grinning eye to eye as Tanjiro tenderly put the crown on my head with hearts in his eyes, "No, you deserve it" Tanjiro smiled, softly pinching my cheeks. I cupped his and face kissed his forehead scar lovingly and asked, "There are so many pretty flowers here, which one is your favorite?". He thought for a moment, he caressed my hair as he finally spoke, "There are very pretty flowers here, but if I were to choose the prettiest one... I'll always choose you."

MASTERLIST

@tanjirosjuliet ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴛ sᴛᴇᴀʟ/ᴄᴏᴘʏ/ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ !

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro x y/n #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjiro x you #tanjirou #kimetsu no yaiba #tanjiro angst #tanjiro fluff #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro kimetsu no yaiba #kny tanjirou #demon slayer x you #txt

[drabbles-mc]

Side-Tracked

Sydney Adamu x Richie Jerimovich

Warnings: 18+, language, fluff

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I’ve ever written for, I’m aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March.

Prompt: flower crown

Word Count: 795

A/N: I KNOOOOOOW i know i know this is way more than 500 words. BUT!!! idk i think it's impressive that i made it till the 24th before i broke that rule. 😂 i just love them. will be thinking about them. cannot be stopped.

She’d promised to show up early to help set up. It was the new house and it was his first time having people over for something like this. If the occasion had been different, maybe he wouldn’t have cared so much, but it was Eva’s birthday and Richie would be damned if he messed it up.

When Syd let herself in the front door, she had been expecting to be met with the usual mess and noise that came with Richie. She was ready to hear him yelling and swearing at Carmy for not hanging streamers up the right way, immediately apologizing to Eva after the fact for yelling on her party day.

Instead she walked in and was met with a fairly quiet house. There was music coming from the living room, a Taylor Swift album that had since been abandoned. Syd walked through the house to get out to the back yard and she could tell before she even got fully outside that it was where Richie had spent the most time setting up.

She adjusted the bag on her shoulder as she made her way out onto the grass. She could hear the sounds of not only Eva’s laughter, but Richie’s too. Syd’s eyes widened and a smile broke out across her face at the sight in front of her. She knew without a doubt that Richie had spent the morning running around like a chicken with his head cut off. She couldn’t blame him—he just wanted things to be perfect. But she also knew that never in a million years could he turn Eva down if she was asking him for something, which Syd knew was how the two of them had ended up sitting on the ground, plastic tablecloths tossed off to the side instead of on the tables where they were supposed to be.

Eva had a flower tucked behind each ear and she’d given one to Richie at one point too, although his was about ready to fall out and back onto the ground. Neither of them noticed that, or even noticed Syd for a moment, as they stayed focused on the task at hand. Syd had no idea how long it had taken the two of them to string together the flower crown that they were just about to finish, but she had a feeling it had taken more time than Richie realized.

She walked over and crouched down next to Richie, who didn’t realize what was happening until Eva erupted in a fit of giggles. Syd gave her a smile and a wave before leaning onto Richie’s shoulder. “It’s not a real birthday party without a flower crown. I’m glad you guys took care of this,” she said.

Richie flinched in surprise, but the shock didn’t keep him from laughing. “Jesus.”

Syd gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “Well? What are you waiting for?” She gestured to Eva. “Give the queen her crown!”

All three of them were laughing as Richie carefully lifted it up and placed it on top of Eva’s head. “I don’t know if that’s gonna stay together so be—”

Eva was already on her feet, slamming Syd with a quick hug before running back towards the house. “I wanna go look at it!”

Richie was shaking his head as he slowly stood back up, fingers dragging across his brow as he watched Eva clamp her hand down on her head to keep the flimsy string of flowers and stems in place. He watched her until she disappeared completely inside the house, and only then did he turn back to Syd.

“Hey,” he said with a laugh as he pulled her into a hug.

She laughed, leaning right into him as she returned the embrace. “Hey. Didn’t realize that crown-maker was on your list of skills.”

He squeezed her a little tighter. “Fuck off.”

Syd laughed, stepping back when he realized the embrace. “I was gonna offer to start cooking, but,” she leaned and grabbed the discarded decorations off the ground, “I see you’re still on tablecloths. Here,” she handed one end to him.

He took it, a relieved smile on his face. “Thanks.” They draped it over one of the picnic tables that were set up in the yard. He saw the smirk on Sydney’s face as she taped it down. “I swear to god if you fuckin—”

“I didn’t say anything!” she said with a laugh, hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.” She paused, nodded in his direction. “The daisy behind your ear, though, she might tell on you a little bit when everyone else gets here.”

He grabbed the next tablecloth for the next table, shaking his head as he laughed. “Snitches. All of you.”

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #richie jerimovich #sydney adamu #richie jerimovich fanfiction #sydney adamu fanfiction #sydney adamu x richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x sydney adamu #sydrichie #sydney x richie #richie x sydney #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc