#sending love happiness & all my fondest well wishes !!

[rosylamb]

You look like a fairy 🧚‍♀️

🤍 ⊹. ˚ * ~ . !

Ooh well *you* look like someone I’m very happy for . . because I am! :D

Really !!

I know it’s only a few words, but I still found this to be really sweet, and it actually made my night. ♡

I love fairies! That was my first Halloween costume, and I begged to go as one every year hehe. :’)

(Sometimes I did want to be a princess though ♡)

I thought it’d be so neat to have wings! Pink and sparkly — well actually I still do! Plus you can help people and grant wishes? Wouldn’t that be amazing??

So it just makes me really excited to think you felt I could look like one! ♡ ♡

Thank you so much, my friend !!

You’re a true sweetheart, and I am sending you so much love & so many hugs in return!

I hope you take care, and have the best day ever ~ ! XOXO 🤍 ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ . 🌸 ɞ˚

[dujour13]

"Happy Valentine's Day, Siavash and Woljif!

I hope you and Woljif have a fun day planned ahead of yourselves, may Desna give you both a break from your duties so you can have some personal time.

This is a gift for both of you - I can only hear so many stories about your outfit without groaning. It's helped me well in my line of work, and I think you'll find it quite handy! Just stitch this rune into your armor and with a snap of your fingers you can make it look like anything you want. No matter how many times I see the reactions when my gala dress turns back into my hellknight plate, it never gets old. The potential theatrics are right up your alley, my friend.

Also, I hope the bottle of wine is to your taste. Daeran said it's a risk to send wine to someone from their homeland when you're not an expert in it, but Sosiel helped me pick out a palatable one. I think, anyway... my taste in wine has never recovered from the overly fancy swill the Egorian aristocrats prefer. This Andoren stuff is pretty alright though!

-Warmest regards, Minovae!"

My Dearest Mino,

My favorite Hellknight! (I’m sure Regill doesn’t mind if I say that.) Desna must indeed be looking over me. I was just thinking of you when Aivu ran in with this letter. It’s a little soggy and covered in cookie crumbs but a very welcome surprise.

I’m not exactly sure what you’re implying with this prestidigipainter rune, but I already have plans to put it to good use. Daeran’s throwing a costume ball and I was having second thoughts about my gender-swapped Nocticula outfit, so this will come in handy.

Many thanks for the wine! Sosiel is to be congratulated for his taste—the kind of sturdy red that stains the tablecloth, just the thing for me. I wouldn’t dream of fancy Egorian swill passing my lips as you well understand.

I also enclose a couple of gifts for you—some of the best Alvis olive oil-based scale ointment (I took the liberty of getting the kind with rainbow sparkles, not that your scales aren’t lovely already, just for a special occasion.) I hope the cookies survived the voyage. They’re for both of you of course. I never could get Regill to eat one, but maybe you’ll have better luck.

Woljif sends his regards and wants you to know that the mix-up with the young armigers and the black market love potions was Daeran’s idea, not his, and he’s willing to cut you in if you wouldn’t mind looking the other way the next time a shipment arrives.

I’m sure you and Regill had a lovely Valentine’s Day polishing each other’s armor or whatever it is you two get up to.

With all my fondest wishes 🌟

Siavash

PS Give Regill a hug for me. I know how much he loves that.

[bandlforever-blog]

It's been awhile since I wrote anything. I'm not feeling so great. There so much going on and sitting here reflecting on it, I can only see the negative stuff. My work life sucks and my love life sucks.

I was never any good at my love life and I always put up with crappy partners. I'd think well as long as they love me who cares if I'm happy. But this last one....man it was a disaster! The guy had some good qualities but in the end he was not a very good person. I think he could dish it but he couldn't take it. He had a way of taking offense to everything that was said. He also used cuss words like it was everyday language including calling me the B word. But I don't cuss so when I speak my mind about something he does or says that I don't care for he accuses me of cussing him out. Yeah...I know....that was my reaction too!! You cuss at me day in and day out and you think me expressing myself is cussing you out????? What if I spoke to you the way you speak to me...would you be able to take it??

Seriously though, I wish you all the best. There are a number of things I didn't/don't like about you, that I put up with because it was you. I held my tongue and walked on egg shells so you wouldn't turn on me, that's actually not how I want to live my life.

Now that you're gone, I actually fear for my life. I fear that one day you'll come here and kill me, shoot up my house, or send someone to beat me to death. My current and fondest wish is that you don't think enough of me to put any effort into wiping me off the face of the Earth.

(Afterthought: I let you into my life, my safe zone, and told you all my secrets. I never lied to you and only expressed my true belief with anything that you asked me. But you snooped in my things, treated my things poorly, abused my kindness, misread me completely, talked down to me, cussed at me, accused me of things that weren't true, refused to hear my words and only believed what you wanted to believe, and then blamed me for all the issues, like you were so good to me and I was so bad to you. You openly admitted that you'd use my secrets against me and despite that, because of who I am, I still couldn't lie to protect myself from you and your vindictive hate-filled ways.)

Then there's work. I've been away for a bit but as I think about what I'm going back to, I begin to feel anxious. My heart rate increases and I want to cry. I'm not loving my job anymore. I just want to get away and stay away. I don't know what has changed, I just don't have the drive that I once had. I know my conversation before I went away made me feel like the work that I did do wasn't good enough. You say you took responsibilities away from me expecting me to do better at what you did give me. I felt like I grew even just a little bit and you poo poo all over that and just don't acknowledge it at all. Like you're saying well yeah you SHOULD have done that and this too. I did what you proposed all except 1 day and I moved things forward but got nothing completed so you feel like I didn't do anything, but everything that we talked about having done had some sort of activity done on it. You are basically making me feel like I'm a failure like I'm not good enough. And you know what, you're probably right. I'm fed up with all of this and I'm becoming a poor performer because of it. I should fear getting fired but right now, I just want to get away and stay away. I want to become a minimalist (actually not sure if this is the correct term for what I'm picturing) maybe and just not need to work like I do. Besides my vacations, I don't live above my means, but if I could pay off my next vacations, sell everything I own that could be sold and only keep the bare essentials....then find me a low cost place to live, quit my job, and do a combination of living off my savings and working a less stressful job, I'd want to do that.

That's where my mind is right now.

[livia-dovehallow]

For the short prompts gabrily telling Edmund and Linette their engagement?

this one is sooo interesting because my first thought was i could write this entire piece as a letter!!!!!

Edmund and Branwen Herondale Ravenscar Manor, Yorkshire, England 4 January 1880 Mam and Da,

It has been much too long since we have come to see you. I miss you both terribly and think of you often. Will and I hope you are at peace knowing we are happy and together.

And I am especially happy today.

Last night, Gabriel proposed to me!

Da, I imagine that right now you are grumbling to yourself and Mam is scolding you. You may skip all that, as Will has already experienced the seven stages of grief on your behalf in the hours since I broke the news to him despite the fact that he knew it was going to happen.

The rest of this letter may be of only Mam's interest, but I trust that she will share a summary of the event with you in time.

Mam, it was everything I had ever hoped it would be. It was just as you had described--the overwhelming feeling of being loved and your heart racing in your chest wanting to blurt out, "yes!" before he'd even finished speaking.

I knew I was going to marry him, Mam, but Gabriel did well in surprising me with the actual proposal. I swear I could not breathe when I turned and found him down on one knee looking up at me with that smile and those eyes.

He said such romantic things to me that even now I tear up recalling the memory. It was so perfect, I tell you. Snow was falling around us and was all over the ground. There is nothing like the sight and peace of snow falling against a dark night sky with the dim light of the street lamps at the edge of the gates.

And Mam-- he had an engagement ring opened up to me alongside his family ring. It was the most thoughtful gesture anyone has ever made for me. He found the most simple yet meaningful way to honor my life and memories as both a Mundane and a Shadowhunter. He loves all the parts of me. And I love all the parts of him.

I wear both rings now as I write to you and pause after each sentence to admire them. We promised Will it would be a long engagement and I fully intend on letting him have his wedding first. After all, it will take more than mere weeks to plan my wedding.

How I wish I could be with you now to share in my happiness. Know that I love you both dearly and that Gabriel and I are good to each other and that I have not disemboweled Will in his sleep yet.

Nes i mi dy weld di eto, Cecily

BONUS: A letter from Gabriel to Cecily's parents!

Edmund and Branwen Herondale Ravenscar Manor, Yorkshire, England 3 January 1880

Mr. and Mrs. Herondale,

I send this letter to you both as a thank you for the warmth and generosity you have shown me since we met. Cecily and Will have always, and still do, speak of you in the highest regards and fondest memories and I understand why.

Admittedly, I also write this letter to you as I prepare the bravery to ask Cecily to marry me. Had circumstances allowed, I'd have preferred to share this with you both in person, no matter how wracked with nerves I am, as I value the opinions of those Cecily holds so near and dear to her heart.

You already know this well, but Cecily is the most amazing, beautiful, smart, witty, and brave person I have ever met in my whole life. I'd be a fool not to realize it. She encourages and supports me to be the best version of myself I can be, and for that, I will never be able to repay her. But I will try each day for the rest of my life.

I promise to protect her, and care for her, support her and above all, love her with everything that I have and am. I love her more than I have ever thought it possible for one person to love another. Love itself doesn't seem to be a strong enough word.

Thank you for being a part of what makes Cecily so special.

With greatest appreciation and gratefulness, Gabriel Lightwood

[steadfastspirits-a]

[ Don’t mind me just considering adding a whole Columbina/Damselette - ]

thoughts after messaging 2b and choko for much of the day, either paraphrasing ideas or re-writing them here. insane little lady, spooky as can be.

- she has obsessive tendencies; despite all the odd in fighting between harbingers, columbina views each of them as her “family.” she sang rosalyne off to the next life as her precious sister... like just out here eye zooming at all these terrible harbingers. they are Hers.

- death to her is not a “””bad””” thing. it’s merely a new phase of existence, and she was wishing rosalyne well. sending her off softly, and that despite not being able to see her anymore, columbina is happy for wherever she may flutter off. she will hold her gently in her heart forevermore.

- columbina is almost always smiling softly, with a dazed, almost serene appearance... though, her eyes have no light in them whatsoever. 2b offered the idea of having them be fully black and bug-like, and i’m still debating!! tbh, it would be SUPER cool to have them like that beneath her cross-hatched mask

- to prove her “ownership,” that someone is dear to her and Hers, she will give them a variety of endearing nicknames. there is always one that is solely used for that person, and then others that are just Generally Utilized. some have multiple personalized nicknames, it depends on her fondness for them or just what pops into her head (Solnyshko, or little sun, is one of Tartaglia’s names).

- columbina is especially fond of arlecchino and visits her and the orphanages very often

- she likes to... sew things. creatures that have appeared in her dreams. fluffy, soft toys that have rows upon rows of teeth and mouths in odd places. Eyes on the inside. teeth and claws are always razor sharp. the house of hearth is a spy training camp, so others may view it as a way to keep them on their toes, but columbina truly finds her creations to be adorable and worthy of a child’s affections. she means her gifts Very Genuinely

- she is no hypocrite, and so if another lays claim to someone or something, she will Respect this implicitly. she is no thief. that said, she will still be kind to things that are not Hers

- columbina speaks quietly, her voice almost in song regularly. her words can be cryptic or poetic, just odd thoughts and feelings. she is polite enough.

- on the other hand harbinger arguments are just given a lil tut. family bickers all the time. such is life. hums off and leaves them to it

- she is fondest of draping herself against others. dramatically and softly becomes a shroud of creepy eerie harbinger

- animals are either deathly afraid of her and will scramble away, or they are relaxed bc of the serene disposition she exudes. if they run away and she was trying to dote, she will viciously kill them. and then sew them back together like taxidermy, with fabric and parts from other creatures (perhaps hilichurls, really anything around), to keep them Forever. they were always meant to be Hers.

- this goes into how an additional method of proving her ownership is to patch things up. animals, objects, people. if she sews them up, they are hers. in general, my columbina takes a heavy dose of inspiration from Ray of Angels of Death

- cryo catalyst user; she’s similar in nature to how heizou does punches and kicks, but her cryo energy manifests as elongated claws. her delusion is a hydro one, and tends to manifest as eldritch tendrils.

- columbina never knew love prior to being a harbinger, and her desire to Own People and Things is a sort of mechanism by which she can showcase her love. she is filled to the brim with love. but she has never been wanted, until the tsaritsa accepted her into the fold. she is eternally loyal, and considers herself to be owned by both the tsaritsa and arlecchino. which haha could become an issue if arlecchino is less than loyal

- i’m assuming columbina is her main harbinger title and damselette is similar in nature to how rosalyne was “the fair lady” and ajax/aias’ sub title is “childe.” she mainly goes by columbina as that is the name the tsaritsa bestowed upon her. otherwise, she does not offer any given names. you may nickname her, and she will take that as a sign of love.

[harrieatthemet]

Mustache

He has never been keen on sharing. 

And Gemma’s mere existence, as well as the small indent on her left thumb she swears is a scar (though Harry vehemently denies it is), is living proof. 

Mr Ducky was his favorite bath time companion for a good bulk of his childhood. There were even times he’d carry it around with him in the house tied to a string like a pet, one of Anne’s fondest memories and favorite stories to tell whenever she found the opportunity. 

Maybe it was Gemma’s own fault; she was only six at the time and was foolishly under the impression that the stupid rubber toy was at anyone’s disposal, which is what led her to try and situate the duck in her backpack as she geared up for school. 

It’s also what led her to tears because Harry caught her on the way out the front door, Mr Ducky in tow, and he instinctively sunk his teeth right into the side of her hand in protest. And, okay fine, he may have bit down a little harder than he should have, but the overall message he was sending came across very clear. Gemma never touched anything he owned again for a very, very, long time; and eventually went on to tell everyone in her class she had a vampire as a brother. 

“What do we think of this little number,” your hip jut, innocent as it was, just now became a permanent memory in Harry’s brain, “too much, like.. revealing?”

You like nice in red; devilish, even, and in the best way possible. There’s nothing revealing about the dress at all. Somehow, though, he finds himself perched squeamishly at the foot of your bed in complete fucking anguish. In theory, no, the dress is not too much. It’s the perfect ensemble and flatters you so well he feels like whoever made the dress conjured it up with you specifically in mind. 

And no, it’s not too much, for literally anyone else except him. How is such a modest dress enough for him to think you up the way he is right now; bent over in front of him with your hair wrapped tightly up in his palm while that dress lays in a sloppy ball by his feet. 

“Would be nice with nude shoes,” he mules, “like, those sandals y’ave, yeah?” 

The way your eyes light up, that same way they always do when your mind starts to move at light’s speed as you start assembling a million different ideas into one, is enough to tug a grin onto his mouth. 

He didn’t really want to agree to this. When you texted first to ask he ignored it, that way you’d have just carried on without him and he could blame a busy schedule or an overrun nap on his delayed response time. It’s much easier to blame a missed text for no response. Of course it’s not in your nature to send a text, and he knew that already. So it came a son surprise when he was bombarded by 4 phone calls. By the fifth one he had picked up, succumbing to you and just the flat out unfulfilled urge he had to hear your voice at the other end of the phone.

“Seriously Harry,” your voice is like fucking honey, sweet and sullen like it always is, and he’s in euphoria listening to it as you poke your earring through the lobe of your left ear, “it’s just, y’know I don’t- I’m nervous and I appreciate you helping me do something as stupid as picking a dress.” 

“S’not stupid,” he reassures, “y’know I just like spending time with yeh, since y’so busy ’n stuff.”

Which is true. That’s the only thing that got him over here; and he rescheduled a zoom call just to sit in your bedroom for all of twenty minutes. Not one part of him regretted it, either.

“I’m busy?” You tease, “coming from the A lister who’s in London, than LA, than New York, London again, oh, than LA again oh, then ‘sorry love, m’in Tokyo.’”

Also true, he knows that, which is why he’s snickering at fault in response to your harmless teasing. He wouldn’t say it now, mainly because he doesn’t want to make it weird, but regardless of where he falls on the map he somehow still finds a way to fit you in. He’s never minded doing it, either. 

Twenty minutes isn’t enough. Maybe another twenty more could be a sufficient amount. That’s almost an hour, right? Forty minutes is almost a full hour with you and he’d love to get even that much. Or twenty more hours, even, would be that much better. It’s better for him to think of getting more time with you than to let his thoughts wander and remind him of where you’re getting ready to go off to. 

A date. It’s why he was so hesitant to come here. It’s hard enough as it is being a prisoner to his own thoughts, being around you and not getting to interact with you the way he actually wants; kiss you the way he wants, touch you the way he wants, hold you and talk to you the way he wants. Adding a new element to the mix, another man getting access to you the way he wants, well that’s just mental warfare. 

You don’t know anything about though. And thank God, because if you could get a peak into his thoughts and see just a preview of what he thinks he almost knows for sure you’d ice him out in a heartbeat. He’s got a soft spot for you, nonetheless, which is why he swallowed the massive-sized lump in his throat when you told him you needed help on an outfit for a date and b lined it over to your place.

“Who’s this guy, anyways.” He chimes, following you similar to that of a lost puppy as you start heading towards the staircase, “Like, wha’s he look like ’n stuff.”

Immediately after he asks he wishes he hadn’t. The way that pesky fucking lump reappears when you wiggle your eyebrows in response, stuffing your hand into your leather purse in an attempt to fish out your phone. A simple response like ‘handsome’ or ‘he’s a nice guy’ would’ve sufficed for him. Seriously, that’s all he needed. What he didn’t need was an entire fucking slideshow of an above average looking guy. And he had a cool mustache, to boot, which really pissed Harry off for some reason. 

“Should probably shave,” he squints his eyes at the photo you’ve got propped right in front of his face, trying his hardest to act like he isn’t so fucking jealous of that mustache, “kinda looks like a squirrel on his top lip."

“If I didn’t know you so well,” you tut teasingly, “I’d think you’re a dick.”

“You know me so well and still don’t think that?” 

He likes the way your laugh sounds, and it makes him happy that he said something amusing enough to drag it out of you. And the toothy smile you pair with it practically knocks the wind right out of him. Everything you do seems to wow him, corny as it sounds. It makes him feel so at ease, and the butterflies he gets each time gets him reminiscing to the days where he was just a kid and had the worlds biggest crush on the girl who sat three rows ahead of him in grade school. He’s giddy and he doesn’t want you to leave for this date. 

For a second he thinks about doing something elaborate; breaking his foot or faking an illness so that you literally have no choice but to hang back and look after him. That’s selfish though, and honestly just crazy and super fucked up, so he opts out of that. But he doesn’t want you to go so bad he seriously considers it, especially as you start sorting through the downstairs closet to find a coat that doesn’t clash with your shoes. 

He could just be honest. He could just tell you that he doesn’t want you to go, solely because he’s absolutely infatuated with you and for every hour he’s awake and functioning you manage to consume every thought he has. He could just be an adult and tell you he’s got feelings for you that very much surpass a platonic, friendly demeanor. That might be a better way into persuading you to stay back with him than breaking his fucking foot. 

“Ok now wait a minute,” he chokes, and there’s a painful twang that strikes his gut when you frown, “gotta tell y’somethin’.” 

“What,” you groan, and he swears he would rather die right now than do anything else, “it’s the shoes, right? They make my calves look like I’m a running back don’t they?” 

He wants to laugh but he thinks if he opens his mouth he would projectile vomit everywhere. But the thought occurs to him that if he does that than it would be an excellent excuse for you to skip the date. Though, of course, he runs the risk of grossing you out and absolutely humiliating himself all in one go of it. 

So he shakes his head no. In fact he loves the shoes, and they make your ankles look slender and really compliment your legs quite nicely. Still, he’s scrambling to string together a coherent sentence because his brain is working a lot faster than the muscles in his mouth are and it feels like someone just super glued his lips shut.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” you tease, and the cheeky wink you shoot him over your shoulder just edges him even more if that’s possible at this point, “Styles.”

“I don’t want y’to go on this date, (Y/N).” 

He’s well aware that he blurted that out in a way that he really, really, wish he hadn’t. Now the air in the room is stale and heavy, dense too, like someone just sucked all the air out and left the two of you here with nothing to inhale but words and unspecified tension. 

And he’s starting to get more anxious as your playful manner dissipates. He can tell your puzzled not just be the demeanor of your face, but by the stance of your body because your letting shoulders hang the way you do when you’re a little uncomfortable. 

“Oh,” you breath, and his chest starts sinking inward, “okay, I just- well why not? Do I not.. like, do I look bad or something?”

“No,” he coos, and he feels like the worlds biggest asshole when you start to frown, “No y’don’t- Christ, (Y/N) y’look amazing. Y’always look so fuckin’ amazing. It’s just-”

“What,” you huff, “than what is it, than? Why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

He’s really done it now. The proper thing to do would’ve just been to let you go, walk out with you and watch you drive off before he headed home himself. The proper thing to do would’ve been for him to just go home and think about you on a date with someone other than himself, curled up in a ball watching a Friends episode he’s already seen four times while he felt sorry for himself. But that’s not what happened, and what he should’ve done was just broke the fucking foot like he initially thought to do. That would’ve been less agonizing than this. 

“Because,” he’s frustrated now, not with you but really just himself, “I should be taking y’out. M’absolutely in love with yeh, (Y/N), and I don’t have a cool mustache but I could take y’out on a date, ’n I want to so bad.” 

There’s still that dense energy looming in the room, and his gut now too as he feels it winding up tightly in an anxious bundle of knots and twists. You’re not saying anything and the only thing he notices is that you’re breathing is vaguely staggered and your clutching onto that purse in your hand like he’s about to snatch it and run off. God, he should’ve just broken the foot!

“Please don’t go out wit him,” and now, his voice is small, “think it might kill me.”

[jarofstyles]

Dirty Business V- Affogato

A/N: HI!!! sorry for the long wait, we’ve been really busy with life, but we wanted to get some stuff out for you! We’ve taken some of the requests about this series into consideration and tried our best to fit in everything we could. If it’s not in this part, it will likely be in the next! We’re thinking two more parts for them? let us know you’re thoughts! - n + d

send feedback and requests here

If you like this, please check out our Patreon!

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, FILTHY dirty talk, rough sex, use of toys  👉🏼👈🏼

word count: 6.8k

Things were going amazingly for the two love birds. 

Harry had been excelling at his job, it seemed everyday Y/N’s father was giving him praises. Y/N had felt secure enough to return her focus on her boutique, expanding the store online and even dabbling in designing some of her own clothes. The anniversary of her father’s company was coming up, the big 50th, and as usual she knew to expect a special event to be planned where all of his most coveted employees, partners, clients, and investors would be invited to attend. Food, drinks, live music, the whole lot. It was the talk of the year. Y/N also knew that this meant that Harry would be meeting her mother far sooner than she had hoped. The pair had been together for about 3 months now, stable and in the groove so it seemed right, but she knew how her mother could be. How unpleasant she was especially when it came to things that Y/N loved doing.

“Babe? you sure this is alright?” Harry called over to her general direction. Y/N had bought him some Gucci suit— well, called up her friend who worked the head and asked for one? Giving them Harry's photo and measurements. It was a black with a silky pattern and he didn’t know much about it other than the designer and he liked it. “I feel like I look expensive. Kind of like a prick.” He smiled. “Love it though.” He had her hands going through his hair before and he missed the feeling. Y/N was much more relaxed with him. Calmer. Soothed. Like a different person and not as anxious or on edge. When they had gone away to Paris it was similar, but here at their home, she was on edge. Especially today. “Oi, my love. Where did you go?” He peeked out to her bedroom from the en suite,  seeing the room empty, before he heard the heels clicking down the hall.

“I’m here, baby! One second!” Y/N came walking back, just having finished slipping on her dress, she just needed to get a few extra things. Accessories for herself and for Harry to complete the look. As promised, she had gotten him a Rolex, a small congratulations for moving up in the company, but also because she felt like he deserved it for being so incredible. A wide smile spread across her face when she saw him, admiring him in the sleek suit that hugged his body just perfectly. “Mmm I think you look perfect.” Y/N cooed, walking closer to him and gently playing with the lapels of his jacket. He had learned well from her, the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned only slightly and it definitely gave him that youthful expensive look. Y/N hooked her finger in his necklaces and tugged him closer to her, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. Thank god for liquid lipstick, not that she cared about him having lipstick stains on his lips. “Give me your wrist. Close your eyes.” She spoke, pecking his lips in between each sentence.

Harry was so lucky. He was reminded every time he saw his woman but— there was that blank in his head that wondered just how the fuck he had been able to resist this woman for so long. She was perfect for him. In all aspects. 

“Hm?” He pouted when she pulled away, her immaculate lipstick that matched her dress perfectly not budging at all. It was amazing. Some feminine magic he didn’t know about. “A surprise?” He raised a brow, not sure what it was. But, the man complied, closing his eyes when he felt a cold metal on his wrist. At first he thought she was being kinky but it wasn’t a handcuff. It was... a bracelet? A watch? Too heavy just for jewelry. When she told him to open, he nearly passed out. A fucking Rolex. The cheapest he had seen being 4 grand. But he knew this one was leaps and bounds more expensive considering the fact it was gold. “Y/N...” Harry breathed, eyes wide. “Baby... What is this?”

“Congratulations, my love.” Y/N cooed, pressing another kiss to his lips. “On the promotion, on making waves... Every businessman deserves a good watch... can tell a lot about a man by his watch. I wanted the best man I know to have the best watch.” She blushed and gave a squeeze to the hand she held. “Do you like it?” She asked sweetly, a bit shy because she knew she went a bit overboard with gifts but she felt like it was the least she could do. Y/N knew that all this money her family had went nowhere and she would rather spend it on him, someone who deserved it, than let it set collecting dust. Y/N knew once he took over the company that he’d be donating all the money he didn’t have use for. “I know you don’t necessarily like me spending lots of money on gifts, but... you’ll have this watch forever and ever and you can pass it down and everything and it will always remind you of your successes and humble beginnings and your hard work.”

“Yeah— I wanted to yell at you for spending so much but I know it’s cause... your heart is there.” He sighed, looking it over. His Y/N. His sweet, lovely, beauty. So generous and thoughtful. Pulling her in, a sweet kiss was given to her lips, repeated a few times. “Thank you. You’re the best.” She was one of the best things, if not the best thing to happen to him. “Trust me. I adore you. And I adore this watch. But if you buy me something ten grand again, I will spank your little ass until it’s bruised.” He brought a hand down for a warning spank and smirked when she squealed. “I love it. Wow.... now. How about we get going?” He smoothed the hair from her face. “Precious girl. You’re so lovely. I can’t wait to show off that you’re mine.” At work he didn’t let her bet too touchy. But outside of work, he had gotten a bit too happy with it!

Y/N was happy to hear that he liked the watch, she would happily take a spanking for spending loads of money on him. He definitely deserved it. It’s a good thing he didn’t know how much all of these clothes cost either. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him though. She had her driver come pick the two of them up, thankfully, Oliver was with Niall for tonight so he wouldn’t have to be alone for god knows how long. These things usually dragged on for hours but as long as the two of them made it to at least midnight, they’d be fine. Besides, Y/N was sure she could manage to sneak them away somewhere. 

----

When they arrived at the hotel, Y/N hooked her arm in his and put on her best resting bitch face. Everyone there knew who she was of course, but it was Harry’s first time attending. He looked incredible and she could feel the eyes on him. She couldn’t help but smirk to herself, knowing she had a catch. Harry was perfect. 

“Relax.” Harry kissed her cheek. Oh, how he wished she could be her bubbly and happy self here. “It’s alright. I can feel your nerves from here, my love. I’m here.” He cupped the side of her face with his free hand, kissing her forehead too. It was amazing to see her other persona pop up, incredible even. She was so easy to speak to people with this mask on and fake laughed at things while he observed and talked every so often. He would linger at her side and pull her in, kiss the side of her head or whisper funny things that came to mind. She was slowly relaxing but never enough.

“Styles, my boy!” Y/N’s father’s voice called from behind. “Princess, you look beautiful.” He complimented before turning to look at Harry. “Love seeing you two together.” As much as Y/N wanted to believe he meant that in a genuine way, she knew he really just liked the fact that his favorite employee was dating his daughter, that his legacy and company was in good hands. 

Y/N instantly stiffened up, hating that she didn’t even get a chance to brief or warn Harry about her mother. She knew I’d her father was there she wouldn’t be far behind. Keeping up this illusion that they actually loved one another. The all too familiar clicking of heels coming her way informed her that that moment was coming even sooner than she hoped. Y/N certainly didn’t have a great relationship with her mother and no matter how old she was she still felt her anxiety spike whenever she was around. Be it the comments she made on her life choices or how she looked, she always managed to spoil her mood. 

“Y/N?” Her mother asked with a raised brow, looking between her and Harry with a look of surprise. “Is this your boyfriend your father has been raving about?” She spoke in a tone only Y/N could read as sarcasm. The look on her face gave it away to others though. 

“Yes, he is. Harry, this is my mother. Mother, this is my boyfriend, Harry.”

Harry held her to him. She had tensed up next to him and he felt it as she got upset. She tried not to show it. 

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He extended a hand to greet her. He was prepared slightly for the grimace when she took his hand, shaking it weakly. Oh, great. “You’ve raised a lovely young woman. I enjoy her company very much.” He complimented, trying to make this pleasant— but he knew Y/N wasn’t the fondest of her mother and he was prepared for something to go wrong. Anything. He was concerned. 

“Dear, this is Harry. He’s been treating Y/N very well and a very good worker.” Her father tried to soften the blow of what was going to come.

“Charmed.” Her mother answered in her usual snobby tone. The woman was never impressed by anyone or anything really. No amount of money could buy this woman happiness or passion. She was bitter. For what reason? No one was sure. “Just how well can he treat her if she bought everything he’s wearing?” Her mother countered, very much able to sniff out her daughter's sense of fashion. She was aware that her husband never hired anyone with money, no, people with money always had motives. He always hired potential. 

The comment made Y/N’s blood boil. She felt like she was seeing red. Y/N finally felt like she had a positive influence on her life, felt like someone was making her into a better version of herself and her mother had to step in and invalidate it. 

“He treats me so well that I struggle to walk most days...you must have forgotten how that feels, yeah?” The words flew out of her mouth before she could even think. She just needed to get something out even if it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say to her mother. Then again, she wouldn’t take disrespect from anyone.

Harry closed his eyes at her comment. Jesus Christ, Y/N. He wasn’t taking her mother’s comments seriously but she had blurted out a very obvious innuendo about the fact Harry fucked her so good she was wobbly, the first time meeting her mother. 

“Baby...” He chuckled, squeezing her sides. “Is money more important than how your daughter is treated, ma’am?” He said it a bit loudly, knowing her husband was looking more amused than anything. He wouldn’t get in trouble for this. “While I’m saving money for our future and showering her in more affection and love then anyone else with a hundred million in their bank accounts ever would, I am happy. I think your daughter is very happy with me. She buys me things and I buy her things. Our relationship isn’t transactional, ma’am. It never will be either.”

The older woman looked them both up and down, taking a sip of her champagne and letting out a sigh. “It’s not about the money, it’s about our reputation...” She answered and let out a sigh. “Then again, she’s never been good at making choices that represent our family well.” She rolled her eyes. 

Y/N didn’t even have a chance to say a word before her father moved his arm in between the two. “It was actually my idea, dear... Harry is the closest thing to a son I have and he will be the next in line when I step down... regardless if he is with our daughter or not.” He stated calmly, “Please, do not bring this nonsense into tonight’s celebration.” 

Y/N was left speechless at her father’s statement. The entire interaction further proved her beliefs that she wasn’t really an important member of the family. She was merely there. Her father so calmly defended Harry, said he’d have the job regardless of Y/N being in the picture or not. It was like a shot to her stomach. 

“Well what a shame that is.” Her mother sighed, looking around the room to find someone else to talk to before excusing herself and leaving the group all together.

“Excuse us, sir.” Harry gently took Y/N’s arm and led her out to the back patio, knowing she felt upset. He could just... feel it. The energy of the room wasn’t helping her and the fact people had been looking. Weaving through people, he gave professional smiles with little nods before he got to the doors, taking notice of some of the people out there and walking towards the empty side. It was a time that he knew her well enough to know she needed some alone time to recharge. Most of all, she needed a hug. 

Y/N was stunned, her face stone cold as the two of them walked out onto the balcony for some fresh air. She couldn’t bring herself to cry about her parents again, couldn’t bring herself to cry in front of all these people. It was just a kick to the stomach really, the one this she had been prepared for but was hoping to avoid. 

Harry gripped her waist and held the back of her head to his chest, sighing when he felt her rest herself against him. His back was taking the blow so no one could see her being vulnerable. 

“My baby.” He soothed, petting her hair. “You alright? Not the best interaction hm?” Her hair smelled so good and he focused solely on her, not focusing on any possible business opportunities. She was his priority. “I’m sorry I got loud with her. I didn’t mean to but I don’t want her to speak about our relationship like that.” Harry muttered. “I won’t let people disrespect you or us like that.”

“‘s not your fault, Harry...” Y/N spoke softly, “no need to apologize, you did everything right.” Y/N added and allowed herself to close her eyes and relax into him. “I didn’t want you to meet her...” She said in a quiet whisper, “She has a way of getting into your head… I didn’t want her to... to make you feel like I wasn’t proud of you or that I’m not proud to show you off...” Y/N didn’t really care what her mother said at this point, she knew she was wrong. It was the way her father defended Harry first that really made her upset. “Do you believe me now?” She asked quietly, pulling back to look at him with worry in her eyes. Y/N had told him about how her parents didn’t care about her as long as they had their money and reputation.

“Baby...” Harry’s heart broke. “I’ve believed you since you told me. I always believed you. I don’t know how they could feel that way but...” He smoothed his thumb over her face. “My darling girl. You always have me on your side.” It was nearly impossible for him to comprehend why either of them cared so much more about money and reputation than they did about the happiness and well being of their daughter but he wouldn’t stand for it. He wouldn’t ever let anyone make any children of his feel that way. “She isn’t going to get into my head at all. I’m happy with you. I know who I am. You’ve made me feel so much more secure in that. Not the job, but just how it is. We need each other.” He pressed a kiss to her nose. “You’re what I want to have and who I want to be with. No one can convince me otherwise. I want you. You’re my sweet girl. My angel. My baby. Yeah? No matter what shit she says or tries, I’m not going anywhere. She can’t change my mind.” Thumbs rubbed soothing circles into the girls skin, Harry’s eyes soft. “She’s probably going to have very, very limited time with our children though. Even supervised.”

Our children. 

Y/N felt her heart flutter. Harry had said it to her before, sure, but to hear him say it so confidently again and to know he was thinking about it? Well, it just made everything feel better. Restored her confidence though it hadn’t faltered much like it usually did. 

“Funny how you think she’s even going to get to meet our children.” Y/N mumbled, looking up at him with her brows furrowed and nose scrunched. It wasn’t nearly as intimidating as she thought it was but his fond little laugh was worth the attempt. “I love you.” She told him again, her voice gentle and sweet. Y/N had saved saying it for moments like these and though he still hadn’t said it back to her, she didn’t mind the wait. “So much.” Harry was truly her rock. Had he not been here, had he not been the way he was, Y/N would have reacted much differently and would likely be making a scene. She had gotten so much better. “But the company is yours regardless... you heard it straight from the horse's mouth.” Y/N said to him with a small smile, “How does that make you feel?” She asked and moved her hands up to play with the unbuttoned portion of his shirt.

“I love you even more, my sweet girl.” Harry pulled her in for a few sweetened kisses to make her smile a bit more than she had. He did love her, the girl was so lovely. He would risk it all for her, every bit. “It feels nice that the company is mine, but I’d choose you before I chose it.” That's the truth. For a long time at the beginning he was trying to focus on that but she had brought him so much happiness, so much self love for himself and he was head over heels for the woman. 

“You love me?” She asked, needing to pause for a moment to make sure she heard him right. Y/N was over the moon. Sure, they might have had a very unpleasant conversation with her mother, but that didn’t change how Harry felt about her. That was all the support and love she needed. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to press a sweet, passionate kiss against his lips. For years she was convinced she needed to be someone else to be loved, for a few months she thought maybe she needed to be someone else for Harry to love her. That wasn’t true at all. He loved her. And she loved him. 

“Yes. I love you very much. Do you want to go home, my lovely? Can drink some champagne on the car ride back and go back. Cuddle a bit....” Harry knew that champagne made her frisky. Harry mainly wanted to get her out of the same place as her mother and wanted to be selfish with his time with her.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Y/N asked sweetly, “Just for a little longer.. we just got here. Go mingle a bit, I’ll behave. I promise I’m fine.” Y/N cooed, pushing a few pieces of hair away from his eyes. “Lets go inside yeah? We’ll stay for a little and then we can go back..”

“But... what if I want to go home?” Harry murmured, cupping her cheek again so he could kiss her again. Not having gotten enough beforehand. He wanted to kiss. And kiss, and kiss, and then spread her open and fuck. He had so much love for this woman right now. It was growing every day but he was hit hard with it. “Just want to be alone with you and remind you how much I utterly adore you and your every bit.” He nibbled her bottom lip lovingly, pulling back. Their sex life was erratic. Some weeks just having cuddles but others being full on fuck fests. Right now, he wanted an even mix. “C’mon. Want to be close to you.” He slid a hand down her body to rest on her ass. “You’ll give me that, yeah?” 

Oh. 

Harry wasn’t usually this forward, it was often Y/N who wanted to love up on him and have him completely and utterly ruin her. Not Harry who was pleading for them to leave an event that could be important for work. Oh how the tables have turned. This was a welcomed change though. 

“Is that so?” Y/N murmured truly surprised by the way he was acting, but she was going along with it. She wanted to see what could come of tonight. “Of course I’ll give that to you, baby, I’m just—” She bit her lip when his hand squeezed her ass tighter. “Okay, alright!” Y/N giggled, leaning up to press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go.” She decided they’d slip away unnoticed. No one would really look for them. The cars were already waiting out front and Y/N made sure she snatched a bottle of champagne for them to take in the car with them.

Harry felt like the kitten who had gotten the cream— even though he hadn’t quite yet. He had gotten her to leave, was touchy and finally got her in the car where they finished the bottle of champagne quickly. He pulled her closer to him, feeling like a needy puppy with the way he nuzzled at her neck. A hand slid up the slit of her dress and touched the softness of her inner thighs, purring at the heat of them. 

“Haven’t told you how much I love this dress.” He muttered against her neck. “S’so lovely. But I want to get you out of it.” He was only slightly buzzed but he felt even more in love right now. “Want to see somethin’ like this on you when you’re pregnant. Mmm— fuck, that’ll look so gorgeous. Can’t wait for that.” He had a bit of him that hadn’t realized how much he had a bit of a breeding kink until she showed up. The idea of filling her and letting the cum catch in her, claiming her in that most primal way? It was godly. “When are you gonna let me, pet?”

Y/N was definitely feeling the champagne because his comment caught her off guard for a moment. She remembered when he first told her about this kink of his, how he wanted to put a baby in her and just... pretend that that was the goal. How he had a thing for knowing he could get her pregnant. She had been on birth control for a while and they’d been having sex without protection for a while. There was really nothing to fear. All she had to do was give in, let that primal instinct take over and let him live this fantasy that quite frankly, turned her on. The way he wanted to be a father of her child, the way he wanted to see her stomach swell with life. It was hot. 

“Wanna put a baby in me?” Her glossy eyes looked at him, a loopy smile on her face as his fingers pressed against her skin.

“Mmmm. Yeah, so bad.” Harry rubbed his face against her. “Sooo fuckin’ bad, bunny. Just want to stuff you up full, over n’ over again and make you hold it in. Even tho’ it looks so pretty drippin’ out. Love cleaning it with my tongue but I want it to catch.” He sighed. He thinks perhaps it’s a mix of the alcohol buzz and the way he felt like maybe she truly needed to see his desire for him that set him free. He really wanted her to be able to see that he was so into her, he never wanted to leave. Ever. Add in the fact she just made him unbelievably horny. “Wanna get it all stuffed in that little tummy of yours, yeah? Just... wreck you n’ make you cry from his good it is, then keep fillin’ you up.” He muttered. “Jus’ wanna get inside cause I’m so hard. Want to fuck. Get back inside my pussy.” He always referred to her cunt as his own, and he knew she liked it even if she didn’t tell him that.

“Daddy..” A whimper left Y/N’s mouth at his words, her whole body heating up with a sudden burning desire to be at her home and in a car with the partition up. Goosebumps spread across her skin as he continued to speak, lips brushing against her sensitive neck making her squirm. Between the alcohol and hormones, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take it. She dared to look out the window, seeing that they were only a few blocks away from her place. Thank god they weren’t driving all the way to Brooklyn, she would’ve had him fuck her right in this car. Y/N moved her hand to rub over his hard cock, giving it a slight squeeze. “What’s gotten into you, daddy?” Y/N smirked, her voice coming out much darker. “We’re almost there... then you can take me upstairs and do whatever you want. Anything.” She hummed, knowing that whenever they were in this mood something kinky always went down.

“Haven’t been in you in too long. I’m so... I want it.” Harry grunted against her neck. “Jus’ wanna be inside of you. You’re all hot and slick. I know it.” He moved his hand up and startled her, groaning against her skin as he felt his suspicions become reality. “Mmm— Yep. Knew you’d be wet for me.” He smirked to himself, placing his fingers on her pussy. He didn’t move them yet but kept hold of it. “S’all mine. Let me touch it whenever I want to just do this. Want to make you go crazy with how good it feels.” He muttered, kissing her jaw and finding her ear to talk into. The vibrations of his dark voice tingling against her, making her shudder. “Daddy’s hot little cunt. And you’re such an eager slut for it. Already slick for my cock. Gonna have a hard time keeping still when I lick your pussy up and get you cleaned up. Plus... have a bit of dessert.” He felt her shiver as he pressed his finger tighter against her.

Y/N inhaled sharply, feeling his fingers press against the place she needed him most. It had in fact been a while, a few days. It’s not long by most people’s standards, but for them? It had definitely been a while. 

“Fuck, please—“ Y/N bit down on her lip as the car had come to a haunt. “Thank you!” She called today the driver, hesitantly pushing Harry to get out of the car as she followed with the empty bottle of champagne. Y/N threw it out in the trash can in the lobby, hoping her dress still sat correctly on her body after Harry had a proper feel in the car. Seeing him all drunk and disheveled, nice suit and hair a mess was the hottest fucking thing she’d ever seen. She swore it. Seeing that loopy smile and his hungry eyes on her was making her forget why they even went out in the first place. Y/N stumbled into the elevator with him and hit the button for the top floor, looking at him from over her shoulder. “What?” She giggled.

Harry grabbed her and pressed her front against the wall of the elevator, ankle hooking hers and knocking her legs open. Immediately his fingers found her cunt, sinking two inside of her. The shocked gasp and moan mix make him smirk, fingers moving in and out of her pussy. 

“Couldn’t wait to feel it. Missed my pussy so fucking much.” He smeared his mouth over her jaw biting down gently. “Fucks sake, sometimes I think you forget that it belongs to me. S’daddy’s pussy. Think you need a proper reminder of that today.” He bit down on her ear this time, moving his fingers harder into her pussy, the slick little squelch of his fingers filling the enclosed space. She was squirming in his arms and making these noises— fuck. “Keep making those little mewls. Such a dirty kitten. Letting your daddy finger fuck you in the elevator.”

It was all so sudden. Y/N really thought he’d at least wait till they got inside, but before she knew it she was pressed up against the cool wall of the elevator, her heart racing. Harry really wasn’t playing tonight and Y/N surely wouldn’t underestimate him again. 

“Fuck me— daddy, ah!” She whimpered out, cunt clenching against his fingers while they moved inside her. Her head fell back on to his shoulder, the feeling of him biting at her jaw and smearing kisses against her skin sending her wildest thoughts over the edge. “‘S your pussy daddy! Fuck— yours, all yours!” She pleaded, feeling herself shiver at the sound of her own slickness against his hands. Y/N had never been quiet and Harry was well aware of that, hitting all the right spots inside of her that would make her go crazy for him. “Please— please!” She begged, “feels so good! Don’t stop!” Y/N begged, knowing she could easily cum just from how insanely turned on she was.

Harry didn’t hesitate to make her cum. She came all over his hand in the elevator, a devilish grin on his face as he pressed his fingers in and curled them just so, having her drip all over the digits. He truly felt like he was going feral because he really couldn’t wait. He loved his Y/N so much, he felt the tiny bit of buzz hitting him and all he wanted to do was fuck. Show her how much he meant it every time he promised forever. How he cherished her pleasures. He had swiftly picked her up and thrown her over her shoulder when they’d gotten to her penthouse. Carrying her through the whole place to her bedroom with a dirty hand he had sucked clean and a squealing Y/N over his shoulder, he finally got to her bedroom. 

“You’re going to be a good girl for me. Aren’t you?” Harry smirked while Y/N looked up with her innocent eyes and nodded, seeming to be in awe of his behavior. Harry hadn’t exactly gone this primal before but she was wet as fuck and he was as happy as could be. Taking his tie off, he smirked down at her and held it in front of him. “Wrists.” He demanded. At the rapid blinking, he gripped her throat, leaning down over her. “Don’t make me ask for them again. Give me your wrists.” It was quickly after that, she was stripped and they were tied and held to the headboard. Naked and all at his mercy, Harry stalked the end of the bed with a dark gleam in his eye. “Look so pretty, my sweet girl. Innocent, if it wasn’t for your drippy little cunt making a mess of those expensive sheets.... Said they were silk, didn’t you?” He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt. “Where are the toys?” At a drunken 2 am they’d ordered sex toys one night and a little toy chest she had gotten for them, and he wanted to play with them. 

“Daddy!” Y/N whined, but the sharp glare he sent in return immediately sent darts of hot arousal and a bit of fear through her. “Closet....”  the whisper was given as she clenched her thighs together. Harry brought the chest out and hummed as he looked through things, happily finding what he was looking for. 

“Ah!” 

When Harry took out the wand vibrator, it had her heart racing faster. She hadn’t ever used one with someone else before. Usually she could control when she took it away and just how much she could handle at a time, but with the way Harry was acting... Y/N knew that he wasn’t going to be nice about it. 

“Daddy... please, I just want you inside.” Y/N tried, not sure she could handle all that pleasure. 

“Hm. It’s a shame I didn’t ask, isn’t it?” Harry knew that she would be okay with this, because he had gently asked her colors and she had genuinely responded green. He knew her well enough and had permission beforehand. They’d spoken about this being something they did anyways. “Now. I can see you’re all slicked up. Already came once tonight so I’ll be nice and make sure this one is even better.” He cooed, leaning down over it and spitting right on it. The flinch had him grinning, Y/N moaning and bucking her hips at the sensation of it. 

As soon as the vibrator was clicked on, Y/N knew she was in trouble. Still sensitive from the knee weakening orgasm from the elevator, the buzzing had her legs stiffening. 

“Oi.... keep them open.” Harry scolded. “Daddy’s been so nice to you. So sweet. And now you’re out and trying to take away my fun?” He gave a faux pout, but his voice was thick with arousal. 

“I forgot about how much of a slut you are sometimes. Been so gentle with you lately but you really have been wanting a bit of fun.” He murmured, clicking up the setting. 

Y/N was laying with her mouth open, breasts heaving with the way Harry moved the wand up and down. The powerful vibrations had her shaking a tiny bit and she knew she wouldn’t last long. Another pitiful whine of his name had her getting a bit more pressure over her clit. 

“Shhh. That’s my girl. Daddy’s dirty whore, hm? Can’t get enough.” 

Her hips were bucking up and the heat coursing through her was intense. Harry’s behavior well was fueling this intense arousal. He was all man. All.... perfect for her. She loved being admired and needed and even a little bit degraded when it came down to it, and he was giving it to her. 

“Fuck... look at you. Dripping down to your sheets and panting like a bitch in heat. All you want is cock inside your precious cunt, isn’t that right?” 

“Yes! Daddy, please. I’ll be so good. So, so good just... inside me!” Y/N pleaded, bucking her hips needily. Harry was so good to her. More generous than any other lover. More caring and loving in general but in bed, it was a whole other level. 

“Begging... sounds so good coming from you.” Harry muttered, pressing the setting up as he leaned over her. “One more orgasm before you can take me. I know you love being filled up. Pounded. Like when your makeup gets all messy and smeared because you’re so fucked out you can’t breathe. I know that you want to be so sore in the morning that it’ll be obvious that you have the best cock in your bed.” Harry has also shown off his possessive side lately. Been increasingly so. “Want everyone to know and to see that you’re well taken care of. Daddy’s princess.” He muttered, watching her face. 

Y/N was losing it. Her stomach was hot with heat and she kept bucking her hips and grinding into the wand Harry held firm against her cunt, playing with her breasts with gentle movements of his fingers. Two types of sensations. 

“That’s it. I can see it.” Harry encouraged, it was obvious when she was close. “Be a good girl. Cum.” 

At the demand, Y/N lost it. Shaking, she let out a gasped sob as her body writhed against the sheets, a squeal of his name and holding on to the tie holding her wrists to the board, her back arched and her whole body trembled in the best way possible. She didn’t even know what was happening as she felt her wrists get let go of, flopping to the bed. All she felt was herself being turned over to her stomach, propped her hips up with a pillow and then— fuck. 

Harry filled her. A loud moan came from him, a pathetic whimper. Harry’s hand gathering her hair up and holding it firmly, cock buried deep inside of her for a moment before he began to go. There was no mercy with his thrusts. Hard, bed shaking, dirty. Leaning his body over her, speaking into her ear. 

“That's it. This is what you were made for.” He muttered into her skin. “Made to be fucked by me. Act so spoiled all the time but no one knows... you come home, my sweet little angel. Want to be so sweet to me and then a needy little bitch in bed.” He cooed, hands slipping between them. He wasn’t going to last very long. “Had me all worked up all night with that sexy fucking dress, your pouty lips. I love it so much. My pretty girl. I love showing you off. I want to do it more.” He grunted as he pressed her further into the bed. “Mine. You’re all fucking mine. This pussy belongs to me. I want every fucking person to know that I’m yours. That you are mine. No one else gets to take you. I’m keeping you forever.” He wasn’t even hesitant to say that. He loved her. His woman was the only one for him. “Mine. Fuck... I’m gonna cum soon. You got me all worked. Fuck, I needed this pussy so bad. Needed you.” He groaned into her ear as he ran sloppy circles across her clit. 

Y/N was more than happy to take it, whining loudly as she felt him take every bit of his cock and slam it in. Truly, she felt cock drunk, eyes crossed and mouth unable to close. She was so sensitive and needy, but she had let go completely in his hold. It felt like shocks every time he pounded into her and the stream of whimpers and little noises was loud but pitiful. She needed this so bad. To be fucked out by him.

“Daddy! Daddy! Plea-” Her whines got caught in her throat as his hand grabbed at her hair and pulled her back. 

“Yeah? Begging to cum again like the good little cum slut?” Harry practically growled, “Squeeze for me, yeah… that’s it… fuck, you’re so good, so perfect.” He knew he wouldn’t last long. Her cunt felt like heaven. Nothing had ever felt better. With every thrust Harry felt like he was struggling to hold back his full power, essentially shoving his cock as deep as he could manage. Y/N’s sweet sounds of pleasure only edged him on, his own grunts and mutters begging her to cum for him so they could share a sweet release. 

And my god was it sweet. A series of throaty moans left the both of them, nothing but the added sound of skin slapping against skin and the slickness of their climaxes filled the room. Harry slowed the pace of his moving hips and stayed hovering above his love whilst they caught their breath. 

“You mean everything to me, you know that? Nobody, and I mean nobody will change that. You’re mine, Y/N. I love you.” Harry meant it with every fiber of his being.

He was going to marry this girl.

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: hehehe fore-shadowing? 😈- n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

[admiringlove]

IX: aparecium; an incantation to always remember.

— you finally read all the other pages of his diary.

+pairing: miya atsumu x reader.

+genre: crossover(hq x hp); fluff; angst; frenemies to lovers.

+word count: 2.9k.

+warnings: FLUFF!! pls, if i don’t put fluff, some of my moots would cry(*cough* ray).

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @tetsurolls @velvetfireworks @kritiiiii @1wai@seijohlogy​ @sweetrosemilktea @bellesowl @ems1des​ @akaashi-todorki @sakuric​ @irishhbamb​ @sweetsamus​ @cherriechurros @mxshimoo @bluebirdandcomrades @zukuroo @denki-core @sarahvvictoria​ @littlevoxine

+author’s notes: this is the last chapter(im def not sad) BUT i will be writing bonus parts!!

+navigation: previous, masterlist,.

You stand in front of your apartment, sighing as you close your eyes, making your way inside your bedroom and begin to pick up the cardboard boxes with the help of your wand, moving them outside into the living room for someone(who is quite late, yet again) to take to your new home.

You tie your hair up, fixing your overcoat a little as you sigh, making your way to the smallest box, placed in the corner of the room. Just by looking at the stamp on top of it, you smile. 

The memories of your time at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

You carefully sit on your knees, your plaid skirt riding up just a smidge, as you open the carton in front of you. 

To say that it was filled up completely was an understatement because right now, a few books and photographs fell out onto your lap, making you chuckle. You picked up the photographs, settling with your back against the wall and your legs stretching out, as you looked through them one by one. 

The first one—one of your graduation ceremony, standing next to Shimizu Kiyoko(the current owner of the most popular Quidditch shop in London) who was beaming vividly at the camera with you, holding up your wands as a gesture that you had finally done it. Something that seemed almost insurmountable when you first started school, and now? You all were content, happy with your lives. 

The second photograph was one from the third year, your first time in Hogsmeade. You were in The Three Broomsticks, and a mustache of the froth from the butterbeer had formed atop your lips. Behind you, a certain fox pointed and laughed his guts out. 

The next picture was from the Shrieking Shack—where all of your friends had ditched the second last day of school and spent the whole day drinking and reminiscing the past seven years of nostalgic happiness. A boy held your hand with the fondest look in his carob orbs, and you returned it. 

You gingerly took the three photos, storing them in the photo album that had also fallen out of the box in the process of you opening it. Smiling, you took out some more mementos. 

Your broomstick, the Nimbus 2001, sat at the bottom, but you excitedly removed it and placed it on the ground, saying, "Up!"

It almost made it to your hand but fell down upon grazing your fingertips. You pouted, blaming the number of years it had passed since you had played Quidditch. Peering into the box as you placed the broomstick aside, you found something even funnier. 

Cheap, piss colored hair-dye that was almost ten-years-old. 

You chuckled, looking at it playfully as you opened the top of the bottle. The disgusting odor that came from it made you grunt as you immediately placed the cap back on top, never desiring to touch that thing ever again. And once more, you placed the item in your hand to the side, looking into the box to find more things that reminded you of your happiest years. 

You couldn't believe your eyes at what sat at the bottom of the carton. 

An empty notebook with a soft leather cover, with a grey quill by its side, sitting there and ridiculing you. 

You blinked twice, making sure what you were seeing was real. Hell, you even rubbed your eyes until you could see mindless patterns in the dark. You opened your eyes, the patterns making themselves sort of visible in plain sight, disappearing after a few milliseconds when you grabbed the brown book in front of you and whispered with your wand in hand, "Aparecium."

September 2, 20**.

I don’t know what I’m doing at this point. It’s been 3 years since I started loving her.  When I saw her walk into the train today, umm, yesterday cause it’s past 2 AM now… I felt so happy?? I mean, I know I tease her and all, she’s quite amazing. She’s got the brains for it all and insults me back even when I say something stupid.  I really dunno. 3 years and I’ve made 0 progress. I seriously need to re-think my decision about my love for this girl 'cause 'Samu says there’s no chance she loves me back. Dunno if I’ll be able to stop my feelings, though. I’ve liked her since my second year. Damn me, for being such a lovesick puppy.  And to think I colored my hair for her too. [Y/N] called it piss-colored. Out of all things, why the fuck would ya compare somebody’s hair to piss? That’s utterly disgusting. I wonder where [L/N] gets these dumb ideas. Damn her, that slug. Anyways, I have class in a couple hours. G'night. 

'Tsumu. 

You immediately let out a hearty laugh, flipping to the next page when you remembered a certain encounter with the boy who wrote the diary. The day he told you he loved you, by the infamous Black Lake, he spoke of this particular page. He said that he addressed the nightly trips around Hogwarts, about how much he longs to be yours, about his happiness when he sees you, and your snarky comments that are just as, if not more, witty than his. 

September 4, 20**

Today was the third day of school. Also my first trip around Hogwarts with [Y/N] under my invisibility cloak. We snuck into the kitchens and got ourselves steak pies and treacle tarts, and then went to the Astronomy Tower where we ate them while laughing about nothing in particular. I love these little trips. They make me all warm and fuzzy inside. Dunno how to put it into words, but I really like spending time with her alone. It makes me really really really happy. I wish that someday, maybe when I'm all grown up and play for a known Quidditch Team and she's a DADA professor, we are still like this. Going around to aimless places, eating food, and laughing about the old times(or anything really, I just want to be with her even when I'm older). And just like always, she doesn't fail to throw dumb comebacks at me. I can't help but chuckle at them, because sometimes they really are offensive. Well, looks like it's time to hit the hay now, so g'night. 

'Tsumu.

You gasp as the page comes to an end, a hand on your mouth. He wasn't wrong when he said he wrote about you. You smile as a tear runs down your cheek as you flip to a random page this time, and you realize that it's written in his sixth year of Hogwarts. 

December 23, 20**

I stayed back for Christmas break this year and my dorm is all empty. So is hers, because she says she didn't want to go back home at all until the summer. I feel bad for her gran, that woman must feel lonely. 

You giggled at the line, grinning because you remember your grandma sending you a Howler, which yelled at you in the empty dorm-room for not coming home for the holidays. She said she missed you, and that your grandfather's health was deteriorating. She had also said that she knew why you didn't come back, and that it was okay, because she understood that you couldn't see another loved one go. The Howler ended on a sorrowful note, but everything eased back into its place because you remember the writer of the diary in your hands being there to comfort you when a dreaded letter came in after the holidays. You continued reading where you left off, wiping away the new wave of tears that had emerged from the memories.

Yesterday, me and [Y/N] went around the castle under the invisibility cloak I gave her. It was fun because I always get to see this little smile on her face that only shows up during these trips. We also went to the forbidden section of the library just because we wanted to look at a few spells that are probably illegal. I did accidentally kill a rat practicing the second unforgivable curse, and [Y/N] helped me hide all the evidence by feeding the dead rat to the Hippogriff she had found in the Forbidden Forest. I swear, if someone saw the way I did the spell and couldn't stop until [Y/N] threw Expelliarmus at me, they would throw me in the deepest pin in Azkaban and I'd probably never be able to see [Y/N] again. Anyway, I have to go back out for dinner now. G'night.

'Tsumu.

You, again, laughed at the man's childishness. You recollect distinctly how scared he was, that he had almost pissed his pants in the Courtyard that night. You had assured him that nothing would go wrong and that your lips were completely sealed, because he was your friend of course, so you had quickly formulated a plan to help him. And yet again, you flip to a new page, one from the fifth year this time. 

July 15, 20**

 I hate this part every year. Ever since my third year, it sickens me to come back home for summer. I can't see her because she lives in Lambeth while I'm in Westminster with my posh family. It makes me a little angry sometimes that my family is well-known in the wizarding world because this means my summers are filled with whatever my parents want me to do. The train ride back home was definitely not quiet. It was so chaotic(mostly because of the constant bickering between me and [Y/N]) and Kita-san yelled at us at the end. That was the first time I've ever seen him get angry, so he was either really fed up or we were being too dumb. Anyway, I'm gonna miss Hogwarts a lot for the next month or so, because after that I get to see her again. Honestly? Can't wait for the sixth year. I hope she grows taller, because right now, she's quite the midget. I'll write her a letter or two, but I probably won't send all of them. G'night for now. 

'Tsumu.

You continue reading it all. Page by page, parchment by parchment, word by word, letter by letter until you finally get to the last page. The one he wrote on the graduation day, where he says that he wants to marry you someday. But you don't get to read it just yet, because he walks into the room with his booming voice and boyish grin.

"[Y/N]! Sorry I'm late, sweetheart! I apparated back home as fast as I could 'cause Coach saw me slack off a lil-"

"So ya actually read it all, huh?" he smirks, walking up to you and crouching down next to you, "Ah, the last page, have ya read it yet?"

"Not the last one," you smile, "—if only I'd read these sooner, we wouldn't have gone through all that mindless drama in seventh year, right?"

"Eh, 'twas kinda worth it in the end," he shrugs, sitting down next to you and placing his thumb on your chin, "Love, you've been crying?"

You shook your head lightly, letting out a small chuckle which to him sounded like the sweetest melody on the face on the planet, "Tears of joy, 'Tsumu. You were a cute teenager in love."

He smiles with his teeth on display, his fading blonde hair falling on his face with perfection as he whispers, "Only for you, darling."

"I'm glad," you mutter, closing in and placing a ghost of a kiss on his lips when you realize, "Wait, shit! We have to take all of this to the House! I'm supposed to leave for Hogwarts tonight!"

"Kiss me first, then we'll talk."

"'Tsumu, you really didn't have to come all the way to Hogwarts to drop me off," you giggle, as the yellow-haired man intertwines his fingers with yours quietly, giggling along with you as he says, "Hey, now yer students get to see yer hot boyfriend that you've been with for the past eight years."

"My stupid boyfriend that did a lot of illegal things in school. You're not exactly a good influence, you know," you mumble, earning a little offended open-mouth Atsumu walking alongside you to your quarters. He continues faking the vexed expression, a hand on his heart as he says, "How could ya wound me like this, baby?" 

"I love you though, so it's justified," you say, opening the door and placing your trunk by the bed. He closes the door, leaning on it with his arms crossed over his chest as you set up your things in the room. When you turned around, you saw Atsumu looking at you with the most enamored look in his clove-infused eyes. You sighed, your shoulders immediately relaxing when your orbs land on him by the door. You step towards him, your beige trench coat trailing behind as you wrap your arms around his very muscular figure(now that he's a part of Nottingham Jackals as a Beater). 

"You're going to leave, aren't you?" you mumble against his chest softly, as he chuckles out, "Yer lucky ya get to stay in Hogwarts when I'm gone. Everything's gonna remind ya of me."

Before you open your mouth to retort, your boyfriend says, "Don't worry, slug. I'll send ya letters everyday. And I'll come to meet ya twice a month. Maybe you can even let me meet yer students."

"'Tsumu, no-"

"Imagine! Children and teenagers, all of 'em love me to death. They'll love yer class, even more, when you make me meet 'em!" he exclaims, his eyes filled with curiosity, "Also, also! What about the third years? I wanna be there when the boggart lesson goes on-"

"'Tsumu, no. The school won't allow it. Although, my students do come and ask about you a lot because they like your Quidditch playing skills. They're not idiots like me, they won't fall in love with your stupid personality," you chuckle, pulling away from the hug, but still holding his arms with yours. He pouts, pulling you into a soft kiss, but immediately pulling away and winking at you, "I'm gonna see ya in a few weeks. Maybe I'll take ya on a date to Hogsmeade again, we can sneak into the Shrieking Shack again under that invisibility cloak."

"'Tsumu, I'm a teacher, not a student!" you laugh, but he simply says, "If anything, that gives us an excuse!"

Miya Atsumu never expected you to be agitatedly running around in your green-room, trying to find things for your hair and make-up. He chuckles lightly because all the other people in the room can do is shake their heads and sigh at your frantic state. Your maid-of-honor, Kiyoko, tried to calm you down about half an hour ago, but it was to no avail. 

Atsumu sent Kiyoko a knowing glance, to which she and all the other bridesmaids stepped outside for just a minute. 

"[Y/N]," he says, his voice low but still soothing. You stop in your tracks, turning around and gasping as you looked at him—clad in sweatpants and a white shirt—and widened your eyes. 

"Dummy, you aren't supposed to see me just yet! Go away and wait at the altar!" you yell, walking over to him and attempting to shove him outside the room. 

Emphasis on the word, 'attempting'. 

"You look exactly like what you are right now, a slug. So listen to me, love. I need to give ya something before you start stressin' out all over again," Atsumu murmurs, placing his hands on your shoulders tenderly as he pulls out a book with a leather cover and hands it to you. 

You sigh, picking it up as you sit down by the vanity. Atsumu looms behind you, crouching down to whisper next to your ears, "Love, open the last page, will ya?"

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, turning your head to look at him with exasperation. He places a peck to your cheek, humming indulgently as an indicator for you to continue as he instructed. You sigh again, shoulders drooping low as you turn over the book and open it, and muttering, "Aparecium."

July 2, 20**.

I want to marry [L/N] [Y/N] someday. 

Miya Atsumu. 

From the last day of the seventh year, and Atsumu continues to explain to you that during the train ride back home when all of you were sleeping, was when he wrote the last entry of his diary, and never opened it again. Because he knew, that he meant every word scribbled on every page. 

You sat there, listening to the man with the messy faded blonde hair, losing yourself in his perfect brown eyes all over again. You felt as if you were diving deep into an ocean of pure chocolate, the sweetness and the slight bitterness getting the best of you as you drown—but voluntarily, because drowning was your intention. 

"I love you, Atsumu," you say out of nowhere, cutting him off. He stops abruptly, his eyes growing wide and his mouth forming into a pout. His lips form into the brightest smile ever, as if the rays of a thousand suns meeting at one point. His boyish grin melts your heart, as he presses his lips to your forehead and says, "I love you more, darling. Now, take a breather, will ya?"

"Oh, and before I go. Don't disappoint me today, slug. I've been waiting to do this for the past eleven years."

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

i’m not crying. yes. 

[kickthecan-revolution]

Offer is submitted

My realtor has warned me that there will be several other offers. Due to the uniqueness of the space, someone will likely swoop in with an all-cash offer that is way, way above asking. When I was selling Woodlawn, I got a lovely letter from the person I ended up selling it to as an accompaniment to her offer so I asked my realtor if that was a good idea. She said it always is, so I wrote it and sent it to BND who said it was very sentimental and as a guy, he would probably discard it. So I didn’t send it to my realtor. 

She asked me about it again so I took another stab at it. It might be cheesy to some, but it is all true and comes from my heart. I have listened to my heart with every good decision I have ever made so I sent with the offer. I have to start trusting my own heart and my own instincts, and it gives him the opportunity to know who I am and why I want to buy it so much. 

I’m truly at peace with whatever happens and frankly, to be in a position where I could even come close is something I am grateful for. 

Hi Robert,

As you are making a decision on selling your beautiful home, I wanted to introduce myself and tell you what owning ###### Berry would mean to me. I’ve lived in San Francisco for 13 years and  work in Training and Development. Outside of work, I’m involved in a charity that helps senior dogs with second chances. I’m also a big marine biology nerd, the coast and marine life in the bay is one of the best parts of living here.  

When I moved from Seattle to San Francisco for a job opportunity, I knew it was the right decision but I did not anticipate how much I would miss my hometown. Soon after the move, I made a friend who owned a condo just a few buildings down from yours. I’d hop off Caltrain after a long day at work, we’d make dinner and watch the seals play at sunset on the terrace overlooking the channel your same terrace overlooks. Looking back, the time spent on that terrace helped with my transition to a new city more than anything and remains one of my fondest and most important memories. Ever since then, the neighborhood has been a part of my daily life and living there has been a goal I have been steadily saving for and working on.

Your home is perfect for me. With two bedrooms, my friends and family could visit. I could run/walk on the path by the canal several times a week - with a dog! Being able to sea lions, have a little garden with a lemon tree and a hummingbird feeder is everything I’ve ever wanted in a home so when I saw the lemon tree on the deck next door and the hummingbird feeder left behind on the deck alongside the bedrooms, I fell in love. It’s a beautiful place that you’ve obviously cared for well.  

I hope the details of my offer reflect how much I would truly love living there. Thank you for considering it. Happy new year and my best wishes for a lovely 2021.

[rosylamb]

Happy birthday! You’re so gorgeous!

Oh, gosh . . .

My heart! ♡

I saw this, and it just made me so excited! ♡ ♡

You are an angel, my friend. :’)

I do not know how gorgeous I am, but that I’m worth it enough for you to say so, and wish me ‘Happy Birthday’ means so very much to me!

You really know how to make someone’s day. ♡ ♡ ♡

Squeal! Thank you !! I’m giving you the warmest hug, and the happiest smile right now !!!

So I hope you take care, and that your day is truly a beautiful one filled with so many good things. ♡ ♡

Sending lots of love, and all my fondest well wishes! All the best to you ~ ! xoxo

💗 ⊹ ｡ﾟ♡ 🌸 🤍🎀

[coreastories]

Modern Royals: Queens Day Q&A about the queen of Corea

With syndicated excerpts from Corean Inquirer and the Corea Timesⓒ 

Corea celebrates Queens Day annually on September 9 

All eyes the world over are trained on the kingdom’s young new queen, former detective Jeong Tae Eul

Speculation is rampant on whether the Queen is in a delicate condition. Clues might be seen through the security and catering protocols in the upcoming celebrations

In a shocking move that has the Queen’s characteristic stamp of irreverent impishness and modernity all over it, the Royal Public Affairs Office released an open call for submissions of questions people want answered about the Queen. (But don’t get too excited, as you’ll see below). 

Corea has a long tradition of celebrating the Day of Queens on September 9th, the most auspicious date in the kingdom. 

The first Queens Day was held by HM The Queen Tae-Ra, who wanted to honor the Queen Mother and the Queen Dowager for their contribution to the country’s stability in the conflict with Japan in 1592. 400 years later and the tradition continues.

The palace opens its doors to the public on Queens Day. The people can pay their respects to the queen, or queens, in residence. You’ve read that correctly. Unlike other royal families, the Royal Court of Corea keeps no dower house. As many as three to four queens can be alive and in residence in the main palace, counting generations rather than the multiple wives/consorts of the polygamy periods.  

It seems implausible that nearly 500 years of queens never came into conflict, but this seems to be the truth as far as the Royal Public Affairs Office and the archives kept by the media would reveal. 

At present, there is only one queen. The king’s mother died in 1990. His wife is the current and only queen of the kingdom, and it’s the first Queens Day in 30 years that Corea has a queen enthroned. 

The palace gates open and festivities start September 2nd, lasting the week through until the grand feast on September 9th, when 999 lucky children will dine with the queen.

The Q&A

With resignation, Corean media-- and the rest of the world, including this author-- learned that the queen forwarded the questions for her Unbreakable Sword, Jang Mi-reuk, to answer. 

Coreans can’t and don’t complain: After all, the call of submissions never stated that the Queen herself will answer the questions. 

Majority of the press and the citizens find this move amusing. 

As for us, we’ll take what we can get. We are absolutely delighted at the candor and lack of censorship in the Q&A, directly transcribed from audio. 

Jang Mi-reuk, 27, started the rigorous and highly selective training with Royal Guards in 2016, rising in the ranks and emerging the best trainee in all fields, excelling in both close range combat and long-range weaponry. 

In 2020, his strength and abilities made him the Queen’s Unbreakable Sword, the life title given to the king’s and queen’s personal defender. 

Traditionally, the Unbreakable Sword is close to the king’s or queen’s age, a confidant as much as a bodyguard. Appointment is at the discretion of the king and queen, a personal choice without any influence or veto from the Court or Parliament.

The king’s Unbreakable Sword is Jo Yeong, famous in Corea in his own right for his dashing good looks. (Rumors abound that Jo Yeong is dating Myeong Seung-ah, one of the daughters of the old-money Myeong family, and working in the Royal Public Affairs Office). 

This author has seen both Unbreakable Swords from a short distance, and they are both intimidating. You wouldn’t want to cross either of them. 

HM The Queen sends her warm greetings and thanks to everyone who sent their questions. The Palace carefully reviewed them all. HM The Queen assures everyone that all your questions and wishes have been received and will be addressed sooner or later. 

HM The Queen wishes you all a Happy Queens Day, and thanks her Unbreakable Sword Jang Mi-reuk for his service in this task. 

Q. Is HM expecting? 

A. It’s not my place to answer that either way. 

Q. What is HM’s favorite food? 

A. I’m not aware. She asks me to get tteokbokki often, but sometimes this is a ruse to lose me, and I don’t fall for it after that one time, and she has a whole herd of us now. Good luck losing us. 

Q. What is HM’s favorite music? 

A. Is this a test? I don’t know. She’s tone deaf. 

Q. How did the king and queen meet? 

A. They’ve already met when I met Her Majesty. I’m not aware. I think it’s romantic. It’s one of my fondest wishes to know the story myself. 

Q. What is HM’s favorite color? 

A. I’m not aware. Neutrals. Her Majesty wears a lot of neutrals. It’s a good choice. It becomes her, especially cream and ivory shades of white.

Q. What is HM’s favorite scent? 

A. I’m not aware. If you mean the scent she wears, it’s very subtle citrus, florals, herbs and woods scents. She appreciates lavender in the car, too. We both like it. 

Q. What is HM’s shoe size? 

A. This is ridiculous. I think it’s 7 or 8. Her feet are small for her height, which is why she prefers sturdy shoes. Her Majesty does wear heels from time to time. It makes her legs and ankles look really nice. His Majesty and I agree she shouldn’t wear very high heels. It’s not safe. And Her Majesty likes to run around. 

Q. Does HM call the king an endearment? 

A. I. Am. Not. Aware. But I’ll get back to you if I hear them use one. It’s sweet, isn’t it? 

Q. Does HM miss being a detective? 

A. She does. I… I won’t elaborate on this. 

Q. What does HM think of PM Koo? Are they really friends? 

A. As far as I’m aware, Her Majesty and Her Excellency are on good terms. Sometimes they argue about the kingdom in the car. But nothing malicious. Mostly it’s the prime minister making acerbic remarks about the queen’s outfits. She thinks Her Majesty should dress better so she can dress better, too. *laughter 

Q. How many children does HM want to have? 

A. I am not aware. I think they should have four. That’s a nice number. No one will feel left out. Two sets of close friendships between the siblings. That always happens. I’m one of three and I’m left out. Their Majesties should start soon though. 

Q. Where did HM live before becoming queen? 

A. Seoul, of course. You know she worked in Jongno-gu. She lived there. 

Q. Does HM truly love the king? 

A. Wow, I’m glad the queen doesn’t have to answer crap questions like this. She loves him. He loves her. It makes the others uncomfortable when they’re together. We take 10 steps back but we can see them. Sometimes when the queen is in a temper, we hear them, too. *laughter

Q. Does HM ever have fights with the king? 

A. Not really. Just normal squabbles. The queen doesn’t have tolerance for bullsh--. Pardon me. I don’t mean to imply that His Majesty ever says bullsh--. Forgive me. Are you sure you’re deleting that? This gesture means I want you to delete it. I’m not just fanning my neck with my hand. Delete it. 

Q. How and where do Their Majesties date? 

A. I want the answer to that myself. I think they sneak out. Wait. Delete that. Hey. That compromises security. (Editor’s Note: We’ve confirmed with the Royal Court and the Royal Public Affairs Office that this is safe to publish, and the Royal Court assures the public that the king and queen are always safe).

Q. Does HM have advice for other female detectives, or female professionals in general? 

A. Well, this question should have gone to the queen. I’ve worked long enough with Her Majesty to confidently say she would advise women to never back down from what they believe to be right and just. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I think Jang Michael/Jang Mi-reuk is adorable. This is a guy unafraid of what society would consider “feminine” sensibilities. I love him. 😆

If you have questions you think the public of Corea would wanna know, send them in and I’ll pass them on to Jangmi lol 

And yep, I made Tae-ra a queen too haha. 

In case you’re wondering, it’s the Corea Times/Corean Inquirer excerpts when they refer to the queen as HM or HM The Queen. It’s the Daily Mail everywhere else. 

[iliveiloveiwrite]

At first I thought it was infatuation

A/N: So here’s part 2 to Leave me reckless, off the map! I didn’t actually think I would be writing a part 2, I didn’t think anyone would want it but you do! So that’s great! I hope you all like it. Please listen to the song You Send Me by Sam Cooke, I feel it sums up Sirius’ feelings through this. Also, I firmly reject the fact that Sirius died in Order of The Phoenix - for creative license but also my own heart bc no thank you.

Title: Sam Cooke - You Send Me

Summary: The time away brings confessions from Sirius.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: angst? Swearing.

Word count: 1777

Ravenscar is located on the East Coast. Your family had had a country house there for as long as you can remember. Your fondest memories before you arrived at Hogwarts and met the Marauders was spending your summers with your great aunt there; taking trips into Scarborough, walking up and down the coast.

Breathing in the sea air, you feel more yourself than you have in weeks. The long walk to the beach below Ravenscar helps to clear your head. It had been a few days since you left Grimmauld Place – you felt guilt for simply just walking out, but you couldn’t stay there. It was not the environment that you could live in; you simply couldn’t take watching him be so happy with a woman that wasn’t you. Your head was clear though; you were coming to realisations.

Sirius turns up on your third day there. You open the door to him, and your heart drops to the floor.

“What’s happened?” You ask, letting him enter the house.

“What makes you think something’s happened?”

“You’ve casually shown up on my door without warning. I can’t help but be worried, we’re in the middle of a war, Sirius.”

“You’re right, we are. But you’re taking some time out. Nothing’s happened, everyone’s fine. Harry was a bit put out when I told him he couldn’t come with me but other than that, everyone is okay.”

“I’m glad. I feel so guilty for taking some time, but I need to get my head sorted. I can’t go on a mission for Dumbledore in the place I am mentally, it would get me and whoever I’m with hurt.”

“I love you; you know.”

The confession blindsides you. He’s sitting on your couch, picking at one of the ancient cushions you never replaced after your aunt had passed away. He told himself he wasn’t going to immediately drop it on you – that he loves you. He has since Fifth Year; you were smart, so smart, and principled. You stood up for what you believed in. You gelled instantly with the Marauders and Lily and to be frank, he fell arse over tea kettle in love with you. He kept his sanity in Azkaban because of two things: his innocence, and you. He knew of your feelings for Remus, so he kept silent. Even after he escaped, but once Remus told him he was getting married, Sirius saw no reason to keep quiet anymore.

“You love me?” You ask, breathlessly.

He nods, “I have since Fifth Year.”

You sit down, “Since Fifth Year?”

He nods again.

“Why didn’t you ever say something Sirius?”

“You were in love with Remus. It broke my heart nearly every day I saw you look at him, I prayed that you would look at me like that,” He chuckles, “I’m turning more sentimental the older I get. I love you though, wholly and completely. I never wavered. There were only two things that got me through Azkaban – my innocence and you.”

“Oh Sirius, I never knew.”

Sirius walks over to you, kneels in front of you, takes your hand in his as he did not even a week ago when he was patching you up. “How were you to know? I was pretty good at covering my emotions back then.”

You clasp his hand tightly, running your thumb over the many tattoos that grace his fingers, “I wish you had told me.”

“Would it have made any difference if I had?”

Your silent at that, you aren’t entirely sure. “No,” You say slowly, “I don’t think it would have back then. I was pretty blind. I’ve had time to think now though, time to clear my head.”

He stands up, he makes to walk away while saying, “Don’t play with me now, (Y/N). That isn’t fair.”

You stand too, grabbing his hand again to pull him back to you. Your face to face now, “I’m not playing with you, Sirius. It’s only been a few days, but you’ll be amazed at what the Yorkshire air can do. It can make you see sense. My love for Remus would have always remained one-sided and I would have remained miserable for the rest of my life. I deserve better than that.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying kiss me, Sirius”

He hesitates for a single moment; unsure as to whether you’re kidding. He places his hands on your hips and pulls you closer to him. He dips his head, ready to kiss you, but he stops at the last minute. “You’re sure?”

You nod, your arms wrapping around his neck, “I’m sure, Sirius. Kiss me, please”

So he does. He has been in love with you since he was sixteen years old and planning for his future. He’s loved you when you told him you were in love with his best friend. He was in love with you through his entire incarceration. And he’s in love with you now, as you melt into his kiss and mould yourself to his body. You fit together seamlessly. He has dreamed of this day since he was sixteen. If this was to be his last day on earth, he would thank every god and every deity for letting him have this moment before he was taken.

In the end, it is you who pulls away. But it is only to whisper, “Stay the night, Sirius.”

You’re in his arms, breathless. The only thing you want in this entire world, is for him to stay the night, to stay with you for the rest of eternity if possible.

He presses a scorching kiss to your lips. Thrilled at the fact that he can do that now, freely. “Of course, I’d like nothing better.”

Morning comes, and you’re wrapped tightly in Sirius’ arms. The night previous seems like a fever dream: his hands, his mouth. He stirs next you, pulls you even closer, presses a kiss to your exposed neck.

“Good morning,” He whispers, somewhat scared to break the moment. As if you’ll come to your senses and regret your decision.

You turn in his arms, drawing him into a long kiss. You both melt into each other, you only realising now how well you fit together.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur.

“Whatever for?” He shifts so he’s above you now, his arms on either side of your head.

“For taking so long. For not seeing your feelings, for not taking them into account. For being so blind.”

He kisses you silent, presses you further into the mattress. “Don’t be. We have now. We have all the time in the world for a whole life.”

You hum, “I really like the sound of that.”

“It’s my turn to apologise now though, love”

“What for?”

“I have to leave later today.”

You sit up, “Why? How come?”

Sirius places kisses along your bare shoulder, “Dumbledore has a mission for me. This isn’t a one-night stand. No, we are going to have a life together. I’ve waited this long; I won’t wait any longer. I have the girl of my dreams, as cheesy as it is to say.”

“Okay,” You nod, “You set off today, I’ll follow on behind. I’m ready to start this life you talk about, Black, so please be safe whatever you are doing.”

He laughs as he pulls you back into the duvet cover. A life together sounds like pure heaven, you think, as Sirius’ lips start to trail down your stomach.

Returning to London, to Grimmauld Place, you’re pulled into an empty room by Remus. You barely have time to greet Sirius, you could hear him in the kitchen – recounting tales of the Marauders to Harry and Ron.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice the gold ring on Remus’ left hand.

“Where were you?” Remus asks.

“I’m sure Sirius told you, Remus.”

“He didn’t actually.”

“I went home.”

“Why?”

“I needed to rest. The knife wound affected me more than I thought.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You reel back, looking at him in shock. “I’m sorry?!”

“I don’t believe you.” He states bluntly.

“You don’t have to. That’s what happened though.”

“You didn’t say goodbye.”

“I didn’t have to.”

“What happened?”

“I couldn’t stay here anymore; I just needed some time away.”

“But why?” He pleads, “Why couldn’t you stay here? What changed… oh”

“What? What have you figured out Remus?”

“The night you left, I told you about my getting married.”

“It was. I don’t think you understood how hard it was for me to hear that.”

“It was hard for you to hear I was getting married?”

“Remus! You aren’t usually so obtuse! Of course it was. I have been in love with you since our Third Year of Hogwarts. It was in Sixth Year when I realised it wasn’t some passing fancy. It was when James and Lily died that I realised you were never going to love me back. But for all these years, I have stood by your side, hoping and waiting. I have sat through full moon after full moon, and I kept hoping that one day you’ll see me in that light. But it never happened. It turned into self-hatred after a while because I couldn’t believe how stupid I had been.

The thing is, you came in and you told you had found someone you love that much; you would marry her. And you were so happy. Why should I be the one to stand in the way of that? Should I have declared my undying love then? Absolutely not, it would have made me even more the fool. I would have destroyed any semblance of a relationship we have ever had.

Don’t get me wrong. I am so happy for you, Remus. If there is anyone who deserves a happy life, it is you. But you do not, for one second, get to make me feel shitty for having to step away for a while.”

“You love me?”

“Not anymore. I love you as a friend, of course I do. But romantically? Not anymore.”

“Not anymore?”

“Nope. I was away for a few days, but it cleared my mind.”

“You’re truly happy for me?”

You walk over to Remus, place a hand on his cheek and brush your thumb across the scar there. “I truly am. I don’t want anything else for you but happiness and love.”

He nods, placing his hand over yours. “I wish the same for you too, you know.”

“I know.” You leave Remus behind. Your friendship would remain, and for that you were grateful. But you had someone else now. And he was waiting for you in the kitchen.

[solheira]

@travmsoldat​  // original

“A little one? No, no, of course it must be an even number. A pack of eight sounds like a fair deal to me, yes! Splendid,” he says, not at all picking up on Rapunzel’s stress. King Hubert is a good man, but goodness and insight are two very different things.

And just to rub salt on so fresh a wound, he waves the Lord Erluin and his wife over. They approach, sporting smiles that are hard to place on whether or not they were actually genuine.

“Your Majesty and… the Princess Rapunzel, is it? How nice of you to pay us a visit during such a happy tradition of ours. Your first volksfest with us I take it!”

“My dear, of course it must not be,” chimes Maria. “Her Highness does come by so very often, why, this must be her third—fourth! Perhaps fifth?”

“Friends already! Couldn’t have asked for a more marvelous turn of events. Now why don’t the lot of you make nice and I go off and search for some scrap of food—Haven’t eaten all day you know—”

—

Any proper Carolingian royal might have begun brandishing their titles now in a demand for respect, civility and subjugation. But not Phillip! Never Phillip. That whole speech would’ve certainly saved him from several thousand fights and scars, but maybe that’s why he’s never been for that type of thing, anyway. He did always love a good scrap.

Amused rather than annoyed, he blinks slow and softly, with an accommodating, quiet smile to match. His fingers recoil to rest once again on his heart.

“Where you are from, yes,” he says, and judging by a dialect he is now very well acquainted with, he can tell just where exactly that is. “Tell me, do you often visit foreign places to parade about the better practices of your country?” He pauses to let that idea slowly sear. “If that’s the case, might I suggest that travel might not be the hobby for you?”

His brows raise and he bites the inside of cheek. What is she prattling on about anyway? Didn’t he simply collide with a person and offer a kindness to make up for it? This stranger is just one shoulder tap away from insinuating that he implore her to sew a scarlet A upon her chest.

“Now let me assure you, my wife and I are confident enough in our bond that our merest interactions with the opposite sex doesn’t, in fact, send us spiraling into the depths of despair and jealousy. Where I come from,” he looks to all the frolic surrounding them, “we extend kindnesses and offers of friendship to more than the person whose ring matches ours. And not everything, yes even something as severe and full-of-stress as a dance, revolves around the pillar upon which that person stands. Awfully strange, I know.”

Eight? EIGHT? She must have heard that wrong. How could she raise eight kids and run a whole kingdom and empire? Just one sounded like a handful and if this child were to carry both her blood and Phillip’s she was sure whoever it was would be a beautiful, amazing, spectacular, handful. Even as adults the parents were troublesome. Imagine a tiny little tot with curly auburn locks and sun-kissed freckles possessing their father’s foolhardiness and her irrepressible tendencies. Now imagine EIGHT.

A hand comes to her chest and clutches the pretty gold necklace she’s worn since her first trip to this kingdom. The future is a long ways away. Just get through this announcement. Smile. Be nice. Don’t make yourself a target. Remember what they told you.

“Actually your husband won that wager. It is my first but I’m sure it won’t be my last.” The curl of her lip is forced but she knows that these two would never be able to tell the difference. There is a moment somewhere in between where the awkward pause stretches for them to respectfully send-off King Hubert and she half expects them to leave then too. When they don’t, her smile falters just a tad.

“Umm,” it takes her just a little time to recover her usual demeanor. She’s looking at this all wrong. This is be the perfect time to win a few people over to her side. The more people who look at her favorably, the easier this new stage in her life will be. “I heard that His Highness Prince Phillip had a hand in your marriage? He must have seen how lovely you two are together and instinctively knew you were meant for one another. Such strong instincts are a blessing for any future king to have, wouldn’t you agree?”

“It is awwwwfully strange.” She responds with a gumption only available to those who had been handed back their words but still believes the sky was green. It could just be that her thoughts on marriage had forever been ruined by her own experience or that she truly has become just like her mother in her later years as she had always feared. “From my experiences in my travels I’ve always been bombarded with rules for this and that. Kindness and friendship are fine to give and take so long as that is the only thing given and taken.”

She holds her unsteady ground and looks around at the jolly crowd. She had loved crowds before. The mingling smells of perfume and cologne and sounds of heavy skirts sweeping the dance floor became some of her fondest memories. A boy too, with deep hooded eyes and a smile so sad it never failed to make her heart skip. He had made the crowds worth navigating then and the music worth dancing to. Her brow wrinkles once more but this time it is not the prince’s actions that had been the cause but her own reminiscing. She hadn’t thought of her almost lover in so many years and yet she feels his presence everywhere now.

“I knew a man once that would disagree, perhaps his views on love have rubbed off on me more than I could ever dare to admit,” she holds one finger up in pause, “Nuhuh! I’ve not admit nothing to you. Let’s just part ways here. I think I saw flag colors I recognize and wish to be around something more familiar.”

Another twist of her heel and yet another pause still, “May your marriage be filled with the blessings of sun, your highness. Good day.” With that, she disappeared into the crowd.

[dailyexo]

[INTERVIEW] Lay - 200924 Euphoria

"An awe-inspiring epitome of someone who has bolstered their unending well of natural talent with sheer passion and hard work, international sensation LAY – aka Lay Zhang – has pushed his artistic boundaries once again on his latest collaboration with veteran DJ/producer R3HAB, on a remix of track “BOOM,” taken from Lay’s recent record-breaking album LIT.

Furthering the Chinese multihyphenate’s career-long goal of bridging cultural gaps through music, the track takes traditional Chinese sounds, seamlessly blending it with R3HAB’s expert touches of tropical, hip-hop, and electro house beats, to offer a cross-cultural celebration of heritage and artistry.

With an ever-evolving career path that glitters with diamonds as much as it pricks with thorns, Lay establishes himself not only as a conscious role model– with his single-minded focus on achieving his dreams- but also as a supportive friend with the endless kindness he imbues in his every word and action.

Lay delves into “BOOM,” and how the collaboration with R3HAB came about, what he hopes listeners will take away from his music, the most surreal moment of his career so far, and the challenge of expressing himself effectively despite language barriers, among other things.

One of your major goals with your music has always been to bridge cultural gaps. In recent times when did you feel like you’d managed to achieve that?

With M-POP, mixed-mandarin pop, my goal was to create a genre that adds and mixes in different sounds, instruments, and languages from all over the world with Chinese culture. NAMANANA began that journey of bridging cultural gaps, and we took M-POP even further with LIT. My latest album LIT, we took traditional Chinese sounds and instruments and added them in with other genres like hip-hop, trap, and reggaeton.

Now, collaborating with R3HAB for the BOOM remix, I feel together we got to mix our culture and sounds into one. I feel proud and happy that I get to showcase the M-POP movement to even more people who haven’t been exposed to it. As an artist, there is no better feeling than my music pushing artistic and cultural boundaries to unite people from all over the world.

When you collaborate with artists who have different music styles and cultural backgrounds to you, what’s the biggest lesson you tend to take away from the experience?

For me, collaborating with different artists from different backgrounds allows me to update my sound. These collaborations help me grow as an artist and I love the creative challenges that come when I work with different artists and DJs. I feel like it’s a way for me to reach out to a whole new audience while also connecting with my fans to give them a sound that is new and exciting. I am always reminded that music can overcome any language barrier or problems and it always inspires me.

Speaking of collaborations, how did the collaboration with R3HAB come about? What’s your fondest memory of working with him on the remix of “Boom”?

I wanted to do something new and give my fans some more music to listen to during this pandemic. It had to be upbeat and energetic to cancel the negative energy in 2020. I knew of R3HAB and thought it would be great to work with him on remixing BOOM. R3HAB brings a lot of energy to the table. I’m really proud of the artistic blending of M-POP with his electronic/progressive dance sound and I think BOOM was the perfect song to do that. It is unfortunate that we could not work together in person. We had to send remix versions back and forth online. I’m glad we could make it work out!

If listeners could take one overarching message from your music in general, what would you want that to be?

It would be inspiring others to work hard to chase their dreams. With each album and single I have released; I have been working on different ways to inspire and encourage people to chase their dreams. When people listen to my music, I hope they can overcome the criticism and difficulties in their life. I feel grateful that I have been able to accomplish a lot of my dreams and goals. My goal is to promote a message of endless kindness with no boundaries and I hope to inspire others to do the same. I want to be an example to fans that you can work hard, and your dreams can come true.

You are constantly involved in several projects and done so much in various fields of entertainment, is there something in particular that you’ve yet to do that you’re keen to experiment with?

I want to perform at the GRAMMYs. I would love to showcase to the world the talent Chinese artists have and show what we can do.

What’s the most memorable/surreal moment of your career so far? What’s next for you?

From my achievements with EXO to evolving artistically through my own solo career, I have had so many surreal moments. I have had the amazing opportunity to work with extremely talented producers, from Scott Storch to Murda Beatz on this album, and they have taught me so many things. This has helped me refine my skills as a producer on my own albums and I’m really proud of that. As for what’s next, I want to continue to experiment with new sounds and instruments from many different countries and cultures. I also want to collaborate with so many different artists and producers like Timbaland.

What’s one question no one has asked you in an interview that you wish to be asked now?

I feel like I have had some experiences of communication issues with my crossover into Western culture and music scene. Sometimes, people often do not understand me because of cultural differences or because I act/talk in a certain way. I simply want to clear things up for everyone so I can truly tell the world about Chinese culture and our hard work and capabilities."

Credit: Euphoria.

[living-dead-parker]

Slipping Through My Fingers - Dad!Tony

This is my submission for @ironmandeficiency‘s writing challenge for their 600 follower celebration!! I hope y’all enjoy it.

Summary: Tony ponders over the lost time. Based on Slipping Through My Fingers by Abba and Mamma Mia the film! 

Warnings: some mild cursing, some angst, hopefully, a happy ending or at least a hopeful one.

Word Count: 1.6k. (including lyrics)

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness And I have to sit down for a while

"Hey dad," you call out to the older man standing hunched over the workbench in his lab. The man doesn't look up at first, deciding to hum in acknowledgment as he continues to tinker on some project before him. From what you can tell, he's bullshitting it as there are no visible blueprints nor any plans on a screen. Just his hands and his imagination running rampant. "Peter and I are going out after school," you continue, shifting from one leg to the other. The statement comes out just like that, a statement, rather than the usual question you're used to asking. "No need to wait up for me tonight."

Tony finally takes the time to look up, noticing your attire. A little black dress that, personally, seems too small for his liking. Matching black boots, hair in its natural style, and he can tell that you've worked on your makeup as well. However, he doesn't comment on it. You're 19, you don't have to abide by his rules. Not like he had any, to begin with, but now more than ever, he really does not have a say. Nonetheless, a knot tightens over his throat, leaving him to a simple nod. Otherwise, his voice or his words might betray him.

"Sure thing, kid," Tony manages, shooting you a smirk in an attempt to hide the fact that deep down, things are hitting him like a truck. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Got it, Iron Fart," you call out, saluting the man with a wave and heading out. You left too early to hear him mumble a very quiet 'I love you.'

For the longest, Tony was so overwhelmed by this fear of running out of time that he seemed to neglect aspects of his life by worrying about running out of time. It seems quite ironic; wasting time by worrying about running out of it. It seems like something any genius could point out and fix easily. Tony felt like an idiot in this regard. But when you're constantly risking your life, when the lives of those around you are also on the line, it's hard not to worry. People can be taken as quickly as they come.

With that thought, Tony has to take a seat. His legs feel like they could give out on him at any moment. Maybe it's from the lack of sleep, the lack of a proper meal or the sudden bombshell unknowingly dropped on him. That of his kid, his child, his own flesh and blood growing up.

The feeling that I'm losing her forever And without really entering her world I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter That funny little girl

Slipping through my fingers all the time I try to capture every minute The feeling in it Slipping through my fingers all the time Do I really see what's in her mind Each time I think I'm close to knowing She keeps on growing

Tony feels his chest become heavy as his lips tremble only slightly. His eyes gloss over and, God, he feels like a fool. But the slight gap in his relationship with you is a design of his own making. You were so small when he had to don the Iron Suit. Such a young kid, and he didn't even know how to properly take care of himself when you came around. It was so sudden, at least to him. But he knew that was no excuse, so he took care of you as best he good. To say the least, your family personified the 'it takes a village' saying. Nonetheless, you were young when he became a superhero. His fear stemmed from Afghanistan, and it evolved from there. Especially knowing he had his precious child at home, awaiting his arrival every time he was in danger.

Being a superhero made Tony busy, so he missed out on some of your childhood, and most of your adolescence. Even well into your adulthood, he remains busy. It's not something he's proud of, but here he is. He only has himself to blame for not immersing himself into you. For not being there as a father should. For being so distant. He's not a bad dad, and even you could attest to that. He's a great dad, especially compared to Howard. But he just never knew how to be there in so many ways. Sure, he was physically there, and he was there for you mentally, as well as for big accomplishments. But he wasn't there for any of your first days of school, he wasn't there for the day that you managed to beat up your bully, he wasn't there when you had a dream he died and you needed to hug him and tell him you loved him. He wasn't there when you got with Peter, nor was he there for you to tell him about the dogs you've seen over the years. Sure, he was there, but he wasn't always there. Even if it was the small things.

So when Tony was there, he cherished it. Even now, as he looks back on it. The sound of your laughter, as he's put it before, is like music to him. It's the definition of all that is good, it's the light in a dark room. Even if you always say it sounds horrible, your laugh is his lifeline, his purpose, his love. He beams at every laugh he shares with you, a smile so real and so genuine and so goddamn bright it puts the sun to shame.

It also seems that every time he thinks he's close to some new revelation with you, things change. Faster than he can comprehend. One day, he's thinking about how you wanted a pony for your birthday and suddenly, you don't like ponies. Every time he thinks he's close, you run ten miles forward, and he's left running marathons to figure you out. Then right as his fingertips just graze you, and he thinks you're on the same page, you grow again. He's right back where he started.

Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table Barely awake, I let precious time go by Then when she's gone, there's that odd melancholy feeling And a sense of guilt I can't deny

What happened to the wonderful adventures The places I had planned for us to go (Slipping through my fingers all the time) Well, some of that we did but most we didn't And why, I just don't know

He reminisces on the 'late night breakfasts', as you'd call them, that you both shared. They were rare, but they were some of his fondest moments. He'd be on the verge of sleep and you were just on the brink as well. Both of you awake for different reasons. Either way, those were some of his fondest moments, if he's being honest. However, now that she's not here, it tends to him. He feels guilt.

Guilty because he wasn't there for all the in-betweens. Guilty because he never told you just how much he loves you enough. Guilty because he let all that time slip through his fingers. All the time he could have spent enjoying you. Sure, he spent time with you. He made time for you. Especially in recent years, the two of you making up for all that lost time. But even that doesn't feel like enough. Yeah, he made up all the lost moments, most of the planned adventures, and even new ones. He made it up as much as he could, but he still felt like he was missing something. Missing something grand, something bigger than just time. He missed you.

"Tony?" Pepper calls out from out of nowhere. At least that's what it felt like to Tony. Slowly, he came back to, looking up at his wife with a far-gone look. A distant glance. "You should come to eat."

Tony takes a look at the woman in front of him, really looks her in the eyes, and she does the same. She sees all the pent up pain and she's quick to walk over to the man she loves and wraps her arms around the man. Tony rests his head on Pepper's stomach, holding her so close to him.

"Is it about Y/N?"

Tony nods, feeling Pepper's hand tangled in his hair. He leans into her touch, enjoying it far too much to want to let go of her. But she does have that kind of effect on him.

"Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture," Tony mumbles into the woman's stomach. Pepper sighs softly, feeling where he's coming from. "And save it from the funny tricks of time. She's grown so quick and I never got to stop to admire her in her might. She's a great woman and I hate that I've missed so much, Pep," Tony continues. He lets out a long and drawn-out breath. "It just feels like she's constantly slipping through my fingers."

"Tony," Pepper softly speaks, looking down at her husband. Her voice is soothing to him and he feels the vibrations as she speaks. "You can only move forward. She loves you, instead of focusing on what you missed out, try making more memories in the future. That time managed to slip, and you can acknowledge that you messed up there. But all you can do is continue to be there for her and assume a more active role now."

Tony nods, his hand moving to Pepper's belly.

"I promise you Morgan H. Stark," Tony speaks to Pepper's tiny belly. "I won't make the same mistakes this time. I'll fix the lost time with Y/N and I'll make sure to be there for you. It's what you both deserve."

Send in feedback, requests, and asks!!

[mashkaromanova]

Crop of Princess Alix (‘Sunny’) of Hesse, 1894

[Beware, a long letter!]

“My own darling Ernie dear,

A good kiss & blessing for your dear letter, which made me so happy, & for the photo of my darling Nicky, which you were an angel to have had enlarged for me. It is an excellent one, & the expression so nice & natural. Really, darling, that beautiful parasole is much too good for me, you spoil me always with your presents. I took it out with me of course yesterday morning, but did not open it, it was so beautifully rolled up. No, it is too sweet & that splendid saphire [sic] on the top, I feel I must hide it with my hand & not let any one see it, & yet I am so proud of it, I want all to see it. -

But how I missed you, sweet One, is not to be described. Oh, I missed you sadly, but felt yr thoughts were at least with yr Sunny. It was a great joy having at least Victoria here, as I should have felt too miserable without one relation on my last birthday as a young girl. - Poor Orchie, she had never been away from me on the day before, & I think she felt rather low, from her letter. - But the weather was amiable & fine, after four days incessant rain. To-day it is also beautiful - really we deserve it after all this time. -

Grandmama gave me a delightful teabasket for four. Victoria gave me frames for photos of Nicky & a workbag & silver spoon to put the tea leaves in, like the egg I gave you last year at the Wolfsgarten. - Nicky gave me a magnificent bracelet in diamonds with a clasp of diamonds & two rubies, to be worn & a brooch too. - The cake with the pink roses was a great success, & reminded me so of home, - & all the flowers to decorate the table. -

I got a box sent me from I don’t know whom from London with glorious roses - the room is full of flowers now & smells gloriously. I am so happy as I adore flowers so, & in thoughts I bless the kind angel who sent them - if I could only find out who it was. - Irene sent me a little picture in oils of dear Papa’s sitting room, which I am delighted to have. - 

Then some amiable Ladies sent me glorious flowers, & one a little book written by her brother & so on, kind little attentions & great crowds running to see us go out driving & the the town flagged - most touching, - oh, & they had to wait so long, as we came home much later than usual. - A pencil drawing a lady (now dead) had done of Mama was sent me by a poor old servant, so I accepted & gave some money as an Unterstützung. - I was enchanted with photos of Fatinitza & the two little Jucker, Winky sent me; so nice. -

Victoria & I went for a delightful drive in our two tricycle bathchairs, & looked at a dropping well - if you put in anything, it turns to stone in a few months. - We had to walk a bit, & the consequence is more pain, so it is no good, I must not do it again; - I drink now to glasses a day, vile - one gets brought me at 8 in the morning, like hot salt water, loathsome - then at 11 I go in my bathchair & drink it at the wells, & the crowd gazes to see it run down my throat, very vulgar of them, & then to view me get into my chair bundled up - enshying as Irene would say. -

I am glad you at last are at Auerbach, & I hope you will enjoy your stay there & the neighbourhood of Schönberg. Give dear Marie my love when you see her, & tell her how often my thoughts run back to last year, & I see us sitting in Alexi’s room burning & painting away as tho’ to earn our daily bread. - And your hey cocks [sic] - I can imagine the length of Mino’s face when you returned after midnight, you 3 mad hatters, what will you be up to next? -

I feel for you when the time of yr visite [sic] to Mainz comes. I hear the town is already being grandly decorated - I fear it will be not quite easy for you the whole thing, but I am sure it will be a fine sight. - I may leave here on the 20th of June, wh. day U want to go to Walton & meet Nicky there, who would be arriving that day at Gravesend in his Father’s yatch, & would go straight on to Walton. About four days we should be there and then go to Windsor. 

Grandmama would be too disappointed if I did not remain with her till she goes to Osborne, about the 15th July, but one cannot settle it quite. She is still upset I am going so far away, & grumbles at us in each letter, poor dear. - I must say I too dread the moment when I shall have to say goodbye to her, as who knows when we shall ever meet again - she is no longer young, poor darling Grandmama. -

I am going to be good & do all Dr. Oliver says, so as to be as well as possible when I at last shall be home, at beloved Wolfsgarten, the dearest place on earth, & yet where I miss beloved Papa the most. - I heard from Nicky, he sends you his fondest love; - we hear from each other daily. - Will you thank Ducky & Mino for dear letters & presents - how charming she worked the basket. I shall write to them to-morrow, I cannot write much at a time on the sopha [sic], it is too tiring, & I must be off to my water. -

So Goodbye & God bless you, my own beloved Ernie dear. Many tender kisses, Ever yr own loving old Sister Sunny. - 

P.S. Zwilling sent me a touching telegram - he is always so kind to me, it nearly makes me cry. Oh, how I thank God you have got such a true friend, who I think would do anything for you. - By the by, Irene asked in a humble way, whether she might venture to come to Wolfsgarten about the 20th of July. - Toddie would be away at a bath, Harry away, & she all alone, & I know it is a sehnliche Wunsch of hers to come to the Wolfsgarten. You know she has never lived there since she married. - Won’t you or Ducky write & ask her, I can’t now; it must come from you. -

Aunt Helena of course begged for you to invite Thora whilst she is at Nauheim - Thora got quite red, as she I know hates inviting himself, but I know she is dying to come for one night, only is afraid Ducky might not care to have her. If she is not in your way - mind you don’t do it for my sake, - then one of you will and ask her, & perhaps you could put in a word to her & Christle about their present which you never thanked them for personally. -

Louie is in C.[umberland] Lodge you know. Well, if she asks, should I not better say there is no room, or I don’t know whom you have invited, & that she must write to Ducky, & then she can answer how sorry you are there is no place, because I am sure it would not be good for her to come. - Poor Thora is mad about L.[ouie]’s behaviour towards Zwilling; - I wish she would go back to Aribert, those seperations [sic] I am sure are bad for her. - The amount of telegrams I got yesterday was appalling, just now one came from Aunt Minny from Abastouman. -

To-day a year ago poor Sahl came to us to Kranichstein. Did you write to him, I am so sorry I gave you unintentionally all that trouble. And what was his answer - please write it to me, I am so anxious to know, because he is so nice, poor boy. - Schneiderlein is there, I must fly to my water. - Many kisses. -”

- Alix to Ernest of Hesse, 7th June 1894