#but as much as i love a gorgeous deep green i am really happy with these

[lullabiestoparalyze]

i am honestly loving the 2024 colors of the year from pantone and valspar

pantone: peach fuzz 13-1023

valspar: renew blue

[theclairvoyage]

Centrifugation: Chapter 10

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

An anonymous source discloses something that threatens to ruin your relationship with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: allusions to smut, ANGST!, anxiety, mentions of past traumatic event, adult language, kissing, fluff

WC: 4.2k

Divider by @plum98 <3

Tuesday, October 26th | 1505

Shaky hands reach up to unlock the door to your apartment, keys jingling with your movements.  Fuck.  Your hand falls to your side as you try to recollect yourself.  Eyes closed, you take a few deep breaths and straighten your spine.  Why am I nervous?  This is my goddamn apartment.

“Okay,” you say to nobody.  “It’s fine.  It’s just a door.”

Courage pools in your belly.  Taking one last deep breath, you unlock the door and push it open, eyes widening at your surroundings.  The place is spotless.  Keri stopped by your place to stock the fridge and clean up for you a couple days ago.  She must’ve either baked or sprayed some Febreze in here—it smells like cupcakes.  A smile forces its way on your face.

You set your purse on the kitchen island and gaze around.  Empty sink, full fridge and pantry, clean countertops.  Clean blankets thrown over the couch, new candles centered on the coffee table, remote on top of the TV.  There’s a small piece of paper on one of the candle lids.  You trod over to the couch and pick it up to read, grin creeping up your cheeks.

Hey, love.  I made your favorite enchiladas and stocked the fridge full of your favorite goodies.  Laundry is done and folded.  There’s some special liquid in the fridge, too—but don’t take it when you’re on your meds!! 😉 Call me if you need anything.

-Ker

Curling the note up to your chest, you walk over to the fridge and open the door.  Keri was right—she got everything you like.  Cheese, salami, fruit, wine, cookie dough, orange juice, and two giant containers of half and half.  A large, covered baking dish is calling your name.

Two enchiladas and what feels like half a pound of cookie dough later, you turn on the TV and scroll through Hulu until you find your favorite comfort show.  It starts halfway through the last episode you played.

“Picture it: Sicily, 1922…” Sophia Petrillo’s loud, Brooklyn-accented voice speaks to you.  You smile and sink into the couch, whipping your phone out to check your messages.

Joel: Have a great night, baby.  Sweet dreams.

You send him a picture of your blanket-clad body curled into the couch, along with a witty caption.  Missing your couch already.  He replies after a few beats.

Joel: Gorgeous as ever.  I’m missing more than that, though.  Gnight baby.  See you tomorrow.

You: Night, Joel. 🥰

Happy to be home and tired of binging your show, you decide it’s time to rinse off the day with some hot water and get ready for bed.  After hopping out of the shower and changing your bandages, you pick your phone up from the bathroom counter and stare at the screen.

Three messages from an unknown number stare back at you.  The area code is unfamiliar to you.  The fuck?  Your stomach flip flops like a fish on a dock as you shakily long press on one message to open it.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Better watch your man.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Sent 2 photos

Shock sucks the air out of your lungs.  You blink once, twice, three times to make sure this is what you’re really looking at.  Beads of sweat emerge from the pores on your forehead, and your hands tremble.  This is exactly how you felt after you left the hospital—panicky, lost, terrified.

The first picture is of Joel’s truck parked outside of a Motel 6, with someone in the passenger seat next to him.  It looks like a woman, but it’s too dim to make out the rest of her features.  The second picture is the same angle, but of Joel leaning near the woman’s ear, smile plastered on his face—and there’s no question that it’s him.  Salt and pepper beard, curved nose, those fucking brunette tendrils you adore so much.  He’s even wearing one of his green flannels that you’ve worn while he’s fucked you.  This photo is better lit, almost like headlights of a passing car flashed on as soon as it was snapped.  The woman’s face is—gorgeous.  She’s Latina, with beautiful caramel skin, long, shiny black hair cascading down her shoulders, bright red lips, piercing hazel eyes, and a low-cut top that shows some massive breasts stuffed in a pushup bra.

The phone slips out of your hand and lands on the bathroom tile with a thud.  Fuzziness clouds your vision, and your pulse is racing so fast there’s barely any time between heartbeats.  Confusion hazes in your mind, interrupted by a loud voice telling you to sit down before you pass out.  You plop on the toilet seat and pick up your phone.

Nausea pierces your stomach as you stare at the photos again.  Clamping your eyes shut, you lean back against the toilet and take some deep breaths, allowing reason to squeeze itself back into your head.

When were these taken?  Where?  Is this pre-Omaha Joel?  Is that girl his cousin?

His hair and beard look the same as they did yesterday—and the motel looks like a Motel 6 near the Denny’s on 84th and Center, posted up right by Interstate 80.  Though it could be somewhere else, maybe in Texas, you’re almost certain it’s Omaha.  Oak and maple trees line the back of the motel, with leaves of various shades of red, yellow, and orange—you don’t know enough about Texas to know if they have fall foliage like Nebraska does.  Maybe you don’t want to know.

Your heart feels like it stops beating altogether at the realization that this was taken very recently—maybe even today.

A tear drips down your burning cheek and lands on the screen of your phone, painting the woman’s face in rainbow pixels.  Somehow, she looks even more beautiful than before with your tears plastered on her perfect face.

Anger sears your insides and clutches your throat.  You ignored every little voice in your head that was telling you something wasn’t right, shoved it into the depths of your brain and tried to stay present, optimistic.  Joel had given you everything—took care of you, made you feel safe and loved, went out of his way to be there for you.  What was the fucking point of this shit?  He could have easily dropped you and carried on with his life.

Standing up from the toilet, you lean over the sink and splash some cold water on your face and neck, arms propped up on the bowl as you hunch over and continue to take deep breaths.

How am I gonna address this with him?  Send him the pictures with no context?  Screenshot the messages, including the number?

No, no, no—the latter would be too easy for him to explain.  You wanted him to squirm and roil like you are now.  Sure, you weren’t exactly a fucking couple, but you never expected him to do this.  Fuming, you save the pictures and pull up your messages with Joel.  You look at his contact picture in your phone—it’s one of him and you from your date at Village Pointe, when he’d watched you admire the flowers at one of the boutiques.  God, he’s fucking handsome, and he looks so happy.

Fuck that.  You send the pictures over to him and shut your phone off before stomping off to bed.

Wednesday, October 27th | 0712

Cheerful chirps of the American robins outside your window wake you.  You rub your eyes, quickly realizing that they’re sore—probably from all your sobbing the night prior. Dread fills you quickly as you recall the events from last night.

Shit. Your phone is off. Probably wasn’t the best idea, considering you’re still recovering from a traumatic event and people might worry if they can’t reach you.

Anxiety weighs your arm down as it reaches for your phone. You hold the power button and watch the screen light up with fast, shallow breaths.

15 missed calls.  10 from Joel, 2 from Sarah, and 3 from unknown numbers.  20-something messages, mostly from Joel.  Your heart skips a beat and your finger inches toward one of them to read it before stopping.

Nope.  You’re not giving up so easily.  He can squirm for a bit.  After all, he made a conscious choice to do this.  Another question burns the back of your brain, though.

Who took the pictures?

You open your messages and see that the unknown number that sent the 3 messages is the same one that texted you the pictures.  You open them, and your stomach falls to the floor as you read.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Oh, girl.  You sent him those?  Tsk tsk.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Now you’re giving him time to come up with an explanation??

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: If you can’t get rid of him after he did this, imagine what else you’ll let him get away with.

Lips tightened and jaw jutting angrily, you puff out a hot breath and feel anger bubble inside you as you type a response.

You: Who the fuck are you?  What is your problem?

They don’t miss a beat replying.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Someone you don’t want to fuck with.  Let it go now and you’ll get over it in no time.

A rough, defiant snarl rips through you as your fingers zip across the screen.

You: You’re so threatening that you have to send shit anonymously?  Grow the fuck up.

You: Fucking clown 🤡

The number doesn’t reply immediately.  You sit up in bed, hot tears starting to brew behind your eyelids.  And your head is pounding—likely from the crying, which has no doubt left you dehydrated.  You slowly stand up and wait for the stars to fade from your vision before padding into the kitchen.

As you brew a strong pot of coffee, your phone rings.  You close your eyes, inhale deeply, and flatten your palms on the countertop to ground yourself.  The cold material heats up underneath your fingertips, leaving condensation in their wake.

You pick up the phone, slowly.  It’s Joel.  The air in your chest halts.  Do you answer, or continue ignoring him?  Part of you wants so badly to hear his deep voice, hear him tell you this was all a big mistake, and the photos are AI.

But you know that’s not the case.  You accept the call and wait a beat before speaking, lips sucked into your mouth.

“Baby, you there?” His voice is frantic, and you can hear him pacing in what you guess is his kitchen.  It’s early, and he’s probably making coffee of his own.

“Why are you calling me?” Your voice is frigid, distant, setting the stone blocks of the wall you’re placing between him and you.

He sighs heavily, footsteps echoing in the background.

“Darlin’, it’s not what you think, I—,” he groans, exasperated.  You interrupt him before he can finish.

“I’m sure you can, you’ve had plenty of time to think about it,” you snarl, voice scathing.  Joel is silent for a moment, shocked at the anger in your voice.  He’s never seen or heard you like this.  He chooses his next words carefully.

“Please, let me see you and we can talk about this,” he pleads, agonized.  Part of you wants to smile, making him grovel at your feet—the other part is heartbroken, the photos plastered in your mind permanently.

“I really don’t want to talk to you after what I saw.  I-I trusted you, and you had every opportunity to cut things off with me… Jesus, Joel, we weren’t even a couple!” you spit, voice transforming from strong and firm, to shaky and choked.  Your fists are clenched so hard, your knuckles are bone white, and salty tears roll down your cheeks.

“Baby, you don’t realize h—,” he starts, but you cut him off again.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you spit through gritted teeth.

“Please, please, just lemme explain and it’ll all make sense,” he cries, almost whimpering.  Frustrated, you hold a deep breath in your ribcage and pinch the bridge of your nose as you contemplate a response.

“I’ve seen everything I need to see,” you say, surprisingly calmly.  “You made me look and feel so… so fucking stupid.  I don’t even know who sent me the fucking pictures and now they’re threatening me, I j—,” you continue, and this time Joel cuts you off.

“Threatening you?” he hisses.  Your eyes roll so hard it hurts.

“Gimme a fucking break, Joel.  You’re pissed you got caught—you don’t give a fuck about me,” you sear, irritated.  Part of you knows that you’re not being entirely truthful—you know that he does care.  But you want it to sting, and it does.  He inhales sharply.

“Now you know damn well that ain’t true, and that I lo—,” he stops himself, your stomach twisting at the realization of what he was about to say.  He clears his throat.

“I want you to be happy.  If that ain’t with me, then I have no choice but to let it be.  But if you wanna talk, I’ll be here.  I’m askin’ ya one more time to let me explain,” he chokes, the pain evident with each syllable.  He sounds like he did when he first came to the hospital after the stabbing—broken and worried.

You close your eyes for a moment and think about your life since you’ve met Joel.

Happy, exhilarating, euphoric, a whirlwind.

A new version of you—confident, glowing, sexy.  Now it all seems so abstract, utopian.

What’s the worst that could happen?  He explains, you don’t believe him, and you never see him again?  As much as you’d like to stick to that plan, you know once you’ll see him it’ll be over.

“Baby, you there?” he asks quietly, hesitantly, trying not to poke the bear.

“Yes, I’m here.  Thinking,” you reply, matching his volume.  “Fine.  We can meet up.  Tomorrow,” you offer, tone stern.  You need a day to think.

“Whenever y’want.  Just let me know and I’ll be there,” he says, voice like a warm hug.  It’s pissing you off, how easily he can melt you.  You give him a pinched mhm.  He sighs.

“D’y’need anything?  Bandages, food, anythin’?” he asks, kindness slicing your heart open.

“No.  Keri stocked my place while I was gone.  I’m good,” you reply coolly.

Shit, you don’t want to tell Keri—you can’t bear to rehash what you saw last night and break your heart all over again.

“I’m—m’sorry, baby.  You mean the world t’me,” he laments.  You pinch your eyelids shut, running a clammy hand through your hair.  He’s not making this easy.

“Do you realize how hard it is to believe that after seeing those fucking photos, Joel?  How do you think I feel whenever I think about them?” You sob, hands waving with each pained syllable that escapes your mouth.  He sniffles on the other end, but you continue.

“Seeing you close to that… that woman, who is clearly so much fucking better than me, that perfect fucking wo—,” he cuts you off.

“Nobody is better than you.  Nobody.  Get that through your head,” he says, voice angry.  You groan angrily as tears continue pricking your eyelids.

“What do you expect?  Like… I don’t understand what you thought I’d think.  Maybe you thought I’d never find out,” you mutter.

“Y’won’t believe me when I tell you what’s really goin’ on.  She’s not who y’think,” he sighs, and you can hear him hanging his head on the other line.  “I’ll tell y’everything tomorrow.”

Jaw ticking, you nod before realizing he can’t see you.  “Okay.”

“F’you need anything, y’know I’m here.  Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

Wednesday, October 27th | 1239

After the call with Joel, your crying and frustration exhausted you to the point that you fell asleep on the couch while watching TV.  The quote from the Golden Girls episode you watched struck a painful chord with you, sending you further into the abyss.

I don't want to talk about it. Oh, how could George betray me this way? Dammit, those wedding vows were sacred to me. Well, they must have been. I turned down hundreds, thousands of offers. Teachers, doctors, astronauts. I even said no to a journalist famous for his work on 60 Minutes. Now, if that's not fidelity, I don't know what is. Then I find out that the only man I ever loved cheated on me. On me! Oh, I could just die.

Blanche discovered her late husband had an affair that produced a child—but only when the adult child showed up at her doorstep.  It puts things in perspective for you.

One, you and Joel aren’t married—maybe this is a sign not to let it progress further.

But—you hated to admit to yourself that he was the only man you had ever loved.

Does the pain come with the territory, or is it an omen?

You roll off the couch, frustrated still but filled with a bolt of energy.  You needed to get out of here.  It’s not like you have work the next day, or anytime soon—somewhere far, far away was calling your name.

Fuck it.  You decided to head to Chadron early—your grandma’s house was ready for you and clearing your mind with some time at the rustic farmhouse sounded hypnagogic.  Thinking of the rolling hills, buttes, pine trees, and open skies filled you with tranquility.  Joel’s face sits in the back of your mind, beautiful brown eyes filled with love and adoration.  A wave of sadness engulfs you.

Joel would have to figure out fast if he really wanted this.

Having packed a decently sized suitcase in less than 30 minutes, you stuff it in your car and hop in the driver’s seat.  You quickly type a text to Keri asking her to check up on the place every few days before starting the car.  The gas tank was at half, and with you leaving later in the day, it was probably smart to fill up before starting the 7-hour drive.

You make a quick stop at a QT not too far from your apartment and fill up.  As you watch the numbers on the pump display tick, a sleek black truck pulls up to the pump next to yours.

Shit.

It’s Joel.

He steps out and saunters over to you.  It’s only been a day since you’ve seen him, but it feels like months.  His handsome face looks sullen, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes absent.  His frown lines have deepened, stubble grown out, some new gray hairs have erupted along his chin.

And then you see his eyes.  Despondent pools of dark chocolate, no traces of the golden flecks you’ve grown to love.  What pisses you off the most, though, is how much love pours out of them.  It’s so hard to be mad at him when you know that he loves you.

He stops at your side, and you turn away to stare at the numbers.  The nozzle clicks and the numbers freeze.  Ignoring him, you yank the nozzle out of your car and shove it back on the holder, fingers still gripping the handle.  His warm hand envelopes your forearm, rendering you motionless.  You can’t look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he says, tone of his velvet voice echoing the sullenness in his eyes.  He takes the pump from your hand and turns you toward him.

Tears pool in your eyes for the zillionth time the last 24 hours.  Your lip trembles, and you snap your eyes shut.  He cradles your face in his hands and tilts your head up to look at him.  Your eyes are still squeezed shut.

“Look at me,” he says your name gently, and the familiar scents of sandalwood and bourbon waft into your nostrils, relaxing you subconsciously.  Involuntarily, you inhale deeply and slowly open your eyes.  A single tear falls from the corner of your eye as you stare at him.

He winces at seeing you in pain—pain that he caused.  He leans in and kisses the tear on your cheek. Your gut feels like he reached in and twisted it.

“Where y’going, darlin’?” he says quietly, soothing your cheeks with his thumbs.  You can only imagine how this looks—the two of you wrapped in each other in the middle of a gas station, tears streaked down your cheeks and looking a hot mess.

“To Chadron,” you sniff.  At some point you grabbed his forearms, the familiar feeling of safety washing over you.

“So soon?  Baby,” he says, deep line etched into his forehead.  You reach up and smooth it with your thumb.  He closes his eyes, exhaling in relief at your touch.

“I needed to get away from here,” you say quietly and absentmindedly, distracted from smoothing his skin.  He grabs your hand and kisses it, featherlight, eyes locked on yours.  He opens your hand and leans his cheek into your palm.

“Let me come with you.  Please,” he pleads softly.  His eyes are melting you from the inside out.

“Not before you explain what the hell those pictures are… and who sent them,” you say, arching one eyebrow.  He sighs, long and heavy, glancing to his left as he shakes his head and rakes a calloused hand through his stubble. He huffs again before turning back to face you.

“S’my cousin, Valeria.  She left her abusive husband in Laredo and is stayin’ at that Motel 6 since that asshole cut her off.  I paid for her room f’the next few weeks while Tommy n’ I figure out somethin’.  I’m sure I was givin’ her a kiss on the cheek.  M’sorry I didn’t tell you—it was sudden, and she wanted me to keep it a secret,” he says with a loud swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing.  Your shoulders slump instantly. You feel like a fucking idiot.

“As f’who sent ‘em… no goddamn clue.  Pretty fuckin’ close to hiring a PI,” he grumbles, chest puffing out slightly. The knot that’s been tightening in your stomach the last day finally releases, relieving tension throughout your entire body. Your shoulders lift and fall as you take deep breaths, before tensing again as you realize you made a mountain out of a molehill.

Jesus.  You’re a complete asshole.  Of course, you assume the worst.  You’d be surprised if he still wanted you after this charade.

The tears flow before you can try and stop them.  You bury your face in his chest, and he wraps his solid arms around you, rubbing your back and soothing you as you sob quietly.

“Shh, baby, s’okay… I understand,” he murmurs into your hair.  “Don’t cry. You’re still my favorite girl.”

You alternate between giggling and sniffling into his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Joel—that was psychotic behavior,” you bemoan.  You feel him shake his head.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he coos.  “Y’didn’t answer me, though.”

“Hmm?” you say, craning your neck to look at him.

“Y’gonna let me drive you?” he asks, gazing into the somber pools of your eyes.  You roll them, small smirk stretching your cheeks.

“I ‘spose.  Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.  And ‘cause I’m a fucking asshole.”  He chuckles, pulling you into his warm embrace.  He kisses the crown of your head.

“My asshole,” he soothes.  You squeeze him tightly, a nonverbal apology flowing from your fingertips into his broad back.

“Baby,” he says, and you pull back to gaze at him.  His eyes flick between yours, a question hidden behind his pupils.  You arch one eyebrow at him.

“I love you—y’know that, right?” he says, the volume of his voice lowered, redness creeping up his neck.  He looks shy, almost childlike.

Shock doesn’t fill you; rather, warmth blooms in your chest.  You knew he did—it was just a matter of when he decided to tell you verbally.  He shows you constantly with his actions.  The corner of your mouth ticks up in a sly grin.

“Fastest you’ve ever told someone that, yeah?” you poke, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

“Been through more in 12 days with you ‘n anyone in a lifetime—seems like we’ve known each other a long, long time,” he says, picking some stray hairs from your face.

“Yeah, very true… I love you too.  Even though you hate the coffee I drink.”  He beams at you, shoulders shaking along with his deep chuckles.  He leans in and stops just prior to his lips brushing yours.

“Hey, I’ve tried and tried to like the sugary shit—ain’t my thing.  But you certainly are,” he croons, pressing his lips against yours before you can respond.

This kiss feels much like your first one, back at McKinney’s—passionate, fresh, experimental.  It doesn’t heat up immediately, either—you two savor each other’s lips and embraces, content in the softness and sweetness of this moment of forgiveness.  It’s almost a new beginning for both of you.  Liveliness surges through your veins, scraping the sludge of uncertainty, self-doubt, and anxiety from the walls that have built up since the stabbing.  His lips are chapped, longer stubble chafing your skin, hands holding you a bit tighter than they did when he kissed you goodbye yesterday.  He pulls back, teeth lightly pulling your lower lip with him.

“Y’know, you’re sexy when you’re mad at me,” he teases you, lusty undertones echoing in his deep voice.

“Don’t make it a habit, Miller,” you scold him, squinting your eyes at him.  He laughs again.

“Come over so I can pack, and we can hit the road, sound good?”

“Sure does.”

Taglist: @burntheedges, @syd-djarin, @anoverwhelmingdin, @danaispunk <3

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Off Limits III | The one with Steve's crush

PAIRING | Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.9K

SUMMARY | Steve agreed to be your date to the party Tony was throwing, and the night went a different route than you expected. One minute you were dancing with Steve, the other he was buried deep inside you, making this night absolutely the best night of your life.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Use of Readers middle name (Lily) but Tony says Y/N when they're alone, Smut [ losing of virginity, fingering, slight nipple play, protected sex, praise kink ], swearing.

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist | Series masterlist | Part II | Part IV

The evening of the party arrives, and you decide to get ready with Nat and Wanda, so you could talk some more about everything that's going on between you and Steve, mainly your feelings about him. Since you told him last night you would love to go to your dad's party with him, you're mind has been going a mile a minute with thoughts about Steve. Today, you just couldn't talk about anything but him, and Nat and Wanda didn't mind it in the slightest. ''I still can't believe he said he wants to go to the party with me!'' you say and the girls just chuckle at it, they could believe it. Steve has been pretty obvious with his flirting, and the cuddles during movie nights haven't exactly gone unnoticed either, but no one said anything about it. ''Why wouldn't he want to go with you? You are really good friends, so it's not weird that you want to go with him,'' Nat said.

You agreed with it, but it didn't make you feel any less giddy at the thought of Steve, and dancing with him. But now, you have to focus on getting ready first, before you won't be able to get to the party to begin with. Wanda is helping you with your make-up, opting for a dark green and gold make-up look and a simple lip color. Nat is doing your hair, opting for braids and a low bun, so that it won't take away from the beautiful dress you're wearing. ''Wow, Lily, you look positively glowing right now, you're drop-dead gorgeous! Everyone at the party is going to be so jealous of you!'' the girls say and all you can do is blush, you're not used to such compliments. But most of all, you can't wait to see what you're dad thinks of your look. As if he could feel you thinking about him, he texted you to come over to his office.

''I'm so sorry that I have to leave you both for a minute, but Tony just asked me to come to his office. He needs to go over something important...'' you say, not bothering to come up with something too specific. You're not wearing your dress yet, but you're still in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, the reveal of your dress has to wait. You knock on his door, notifying him you're there and he calls you in. ''Hi darling, are you having fun getting ready? You look gorgeous already!'' he says and he twirls you around a few times, even though you're not even wearing your dress. ''Yeah I am, Nat and Wanda are helping me, and I'm extremely grateful they are. They must know I couldn't have done it myself, and it's just fun hanging out with them,'' you say.

You're happy you're finally making some friends among the Avengers. Sure, they're all nice to you, and it's always fun to hang out with them, but it's different when you're friends with them. ''I have something for you, in honor of your first official party as an Avenger,'' he says and grabs a black, rectangular velvet box from a drawer in his desk and hands it to you. You open it and find a silver necklace with a small sun pendant hanging from it. ''You have always been the light of our lives, and you make every room you walk into a lot brighter. I was supposed to give this to you during your birthday, but since I wasn't able to see you then, I decided to wait for a special occasion,'' he says, and you're trying your hardest not to cry and ruin your make-up. ''Oh my god, Dad, it's perfect. I love it...'' you say and give him a big hug, you're incredibly grateful to have someone like Tony as your dad. You were never overly spoiled, but every time he gave you something, it felt like he hung the moon and stars for you. He would do anything for you, and you couldn't be more thankful.

''I will wear this with pride tonight dad, thank you so much,'' you say and give him a big kiss on his cheek and another hug, before you need to go back to get ready. ''Sorry Dad, I have to go before I'm late for your party! I still need to put on my dress and everything, I'll see you there. I love you!'' you ramble before running out the door. Once you're back in your room, you see Nat and Wanda have left to go put on their dresses and you're grateful, that way you don't have to explain how you got the necklace. You step into your dress and it still looks beautiful on you, even more so with the hair and make-up, which complement it just like Nat and Wanda said it would. You put on your heels and just when you put on Tony's necklace, you hear a knock on your door, notifying you that Steve is here.

You walk to the door and open it to reveal Steve in a perfectly tailored dark green suit, his hair neatly done and a bouquet of white tulips in his hands. ''Wow,'' is all he could manage to say when he saw you, he was starstruck. ''Thank you, Steve! You don't look so bad yourself,'' you say with a wink when you the tulips out of his hands and invite him in. ''You didn't have to get me flowers Steve, we're just going to a party!'' you say and you laugh, but you're still touched by the fact that he did anyways, and he got your favorites, too. ''Old habits die hard, as they say. I just think it's a gesture of appreciation for you saying yes to being my date tonight. I'm really happy you said yes,'' he said with a deep red color on his face now. ''It's okay Steve, I love being your date and I look forward to dancing with you all night,'' you say, your cheeks also turning a little bit of a darker pink shade at your confession. ''Are you ready to go?'' you ask when they're in a vase and he gets up to go to the party.

Steve extended his arm so you could hook yours in his before entering the party, but as soon as you both arrived, all eyes were on the two of you. Since your dress and his suit matched, you were pretty much the best-dressed people in the room, looking like you belonged together. ''E-Everyone's looking at us...'' you say and you turn red because of all the attention, you're not used to having this many eyes on you. ''They're looking at YOU darling, you look gorgeous right now,'' Steve said with a big smile on his face, and you could feel his warm breath across your neck when he softly said that to you. The feeling of his breath gave you goosebumps, but you felt like you wanted more of it, more of Steve, even. ''Did you want to get a drink first, or do you want to dance?'' he asked, extending his hand out to you. ''I'll take that dance now,'' you say as you grab his hand and he leads you to the dance floor.

Steve grabs your hand, and puts the other one on your shoulder, while you wrap one around his waist to pull him a little closer. With your heels, you were a lot taller than usual, and you were almost the same height as him, making the dancing a whole lot easier. There is a relatively slow song and the two of you sway back and forth on the rhythm of the music, completely forgetting everything around you. You put your head on Steve's shoulder and step closer to him until your bodies are almost touching, and you feel Steve's breath on your neck when he asks you something. ''Wanna get out of here, maybe somewhere a little more private? I have to tell you something,'' and you get goosebumps when you lift your head and nod. He guides you across the dance floor and up to the elevator leading to the sleeping quarters.

When you're in the elevator, Steve pulls you in for a hug, not wanting to be alone any longer, he needed to feel his body against yours. His body was burning with desire for you, and he was finally going to confess his feelings for you. When the elevator reached the floor where your bedroom is, the doors opened and he let you go but still held onto your hand, and it just felt right for both of you. The two of you reach the door and you unlock it, pulling him inside. ''Lily, I have to tell you something, and I can't wait any longer,'' he starts. ''I like you, like, REALLY like you, and I can't stop thinking about you. I've had feelings for you since we first met, and they've only grown stronger. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours, if you'll have me. I want YOU, Lily, all of you,'' he said and his hands started wandering over your waist and down to your hips, pulling you closer into his body.

''I want to be yours, too, Steve. And I want you too, but...'' is all you say before you pull yourself out of his grasp and walk away from him, you couldn't look at him when you were about to tell him you're still a virgin, you couldn't look at him when he would laugh in your face and belittle you for never having sex. But that wasn't the case. ''I- I'm still a virgin Steve...'' you say with such a soft voice, you're not sure he heard you. ''Oh baby, that's perfectly fine. It would be my honor to be your first if you'll have me. I'll show you what a real gentleman is like, both inside and outside the bedroom,'' he says, and you can't believe what he just said. You looked into his deep blue eyes, and you had the overwhelming feeling to kiss him right now. He didn't run away, he didn't laugh at you, he accepted you just as you are, and because of that, you love him even more. ''Can I kiss you?'' you ask in a soft voice.

Steve slowly nods and his head sinks to yours, your lips meeting in a soft, light kiss that made you feel fireworks on the inside. When he pulled away, you both had a grin as big as the Cheshire Cat on your faces, still not quite believing it happened. Steve put his hand on the side of your face and kissed you again, this time slowly opening his mouth and sliding his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for entrance into yours. You happily provide and when you feel his tongue slide against yours, your panties are getting more and more damp, the longer you explore each other's mouths. You're standing so close to him that you can feel Steve getting hard in his pants too, and you can't wait to feel him deep inside you, fucking you like there's no tomorrow, but that would have to wait.

You move your hands and start undressing Steve, taking each layer of clothing off with more and more eagerness, until all that's left are his boxers. Now it was his turn to undress you, kissing softly down your neck and shoulders while unzipping your dress and letting it fall to the floor. His breath hitches when he sees your lingerie, in almost the same dark green color as your dress, you couldn't resist a little chuckle. ''You like what you see?'' you ask him, and his hands are wandering over your curves, exploring every inch of your skin. ''You look perfect, sweetheart,'' he says as he continues giving kisses down your collarbone and in between your breasts, which are filling your bra nicely. ''Let's lay down on the bed,'' Steve said and he guided you to lie down with your head on his pillows.

When you found your spot, Steve caressed both your breasts and your nipples instantly pebbled from his soft touch. You let out a soft moan, and Steve feels it go directly to his already impossibly hard cock, but he would have to wait just a little longer. Right now, it was all about you, he wanted your first time to be perfect. He pulled the cups of your bra down so your nipples would be exposed, and his mouth went to one, while he played with the other with his hand, getting more of those soft moans out of you. Steve is grateful your bra hooks in the front, so he quickly opens it and you take it off, letting your breasts fall perfectly into his hands, and he squeezes them softly. He sucks on your nipples for a little longer whilst playing and softly tugging on them, before moving his attention down to your soaking wet cunt.

He placed his hand over your panties, and couldn't help but comment on the fact how wet you were for him. ''You're soaking wet for me already baby,'' he says and you moan his name when he glides his fingers over the lace of your panties. ''Steve, I need you... touch me...'' you say and he happily complies. His fingers move over the fabric with a little more force, drawing more moans and whimpers from you. ''Let me take these off, so I can have better access,'' he said and you raised your hips, so Steve could remove your panties easier. He threw them to the side and his fingers went up and down between your folds, teasing your entrance a couple of times. ''Such a good girl for me,'' he said and you clenched around nothing when he said that. ''Hm, you're clenching around nothing like the good girl you are,'' he said, almost drooling.

He lined up one finger at your entrance, slowly pushing it in so you could get used to the feeling. ''S-Steve feels good,'' you say with a moan, and you arch your back a little when he starts moving in and out of you. When he finds a comfortable rhythm, he slowly adds another finger and lastly, he adds the third, making sure you're nice and stretched for when he will enter you with his thick cock later. ''Hm, feels so good around my fingers, can't wait to feel you around my cock later,'' Steve said and this quickly drove you to the edge with the pace he set. ''Steve, fuck! Gonna cum!'' you said and he never faltered his pace, whispering more praises when you cum on his fingers and he coaxes you through your orgasm. ''Fuck, such a good fucking girl for me right now, dripping your wet pussy all over my fingers, you're making me impossibly hard now,'' he said and he slid his fingers out of you, sucking them clean.

''Are you ready for me, sweetheart?'' Steve asks while he grabs a condom out of his nightstand, ripping open the packet and rolling it onto his cock after stroking himself a few times. ''Y-yes, Steve, 'm ready for you,'' you tell him a little exhausted already, you had quite an intense orgasm from just his fingers, so you wondered what it would be like to cum around his thick cock. ''I'll go slow,'' he said before lining himself up and slowly pushing in so you could get used to the burning yet pleasurable feeling. ''So good, feels amazing,'' you moan and when he slowly moves deeper, you grab his back and put your nails in him to ground yourself, but this only makes Steve go wild for you. ''That's it baby, such a good girl taking my cock right now,'' he whispered in your ear, and when he was completely in, he let you get used to the feeling.

''Please, Steve...'' you whine a little, and he understands what you want, he slowly starts moving, making you moan. ''Steve...'' is all you can say when he picks up the pace, your orgasm washes over you quickly since he's hitting all the right spots, and your nails drag all over his back, leaving long red marks. ''Fuck baby, your tight cunt feels so good around my cock, you were made for me,'' he says while riding you through your orgasm. It doesn't take long for Steve to finish after you, and he slowly pulls out when he does. ''Sorry baby,'' he says when you whine at the loss of him inside you. ''Is okay,'' you say with a smile on your lips. You grab his face and kiss him softly, making him blush a little at the softness of the kiss. ''That was amazing, thank you,'' you told him and he felt amazing right now.

He went to grab a washcloth so he could help you clean up a little, even though he used a condom, your slick was still all over your thighs and pussy, so he cleaned you up a little. When he's done, he puts on a pair of boxers and hands you a pair as well, and they fit you surprisingly well. He also hands you one of his t-shirts that is looking like a dress on you, and you almost fall asleep. ''Wanna cuddle,'' is all you say before drifting off to sleep, and he couldn't say no to you, even if he wanted to. He laid down behind you and pulled you against his chest, wrapping your arms around you and nuzzling his face into your hair. ''Sleep well, sweetheart,'' he says before drifting into a deep sleep himself.

[satans-helper]

Reaching for Stardust - Part I

Read Looking for Space here.

Listen to the LFS playlist / RFS playlist (all fic playlists get updated even to this day!!)

Word Count: ~3300

Warnings: none

A/N: Y'all...I'm so happy to be here, immersed in this new series. I began writing this back in April after I, seemingly out of thin air, came up with a foundation that seemed solid enough to even attempt writing a sequel to my beloved LFS. Ever since I finished that fic, I thought that one day, I might return for more. I have a very hard time letting any series go and LFS was truly a momentous project in my life--the fact that so many people have read it and continue to read it brings me so much joy, I can't even tell you.

Having been a fan of GVF for about five years now, I do feel a lot of sentimentality and nostalgia surrounding the band, the music and definitely my own fics, too, particularly all my series. I can still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I was mapping out certain pieces of them in my mind. I felt a huge rush of nostalgia recently when I revisited my city's planetarium for a star show, which was a huge source of inspiration for LFS, and I realized that it was literally this same month, August, in 2019 that I was just finishing up the first 8 chapters of LFS, not even planning on making it a 30-something part series (LOL!). You'll see, if you read, that some of these feelings find their way into RFS. This isn't because it's a self-insert fic, rather that's inspired by how much this fandom has seen, experienced and grown over the years. I imagine my friends and readers who were back there in the pre-pandemic GVF era can relate to some level of nostalgia. A big theme in RFS is change. I think we all can absolutely relate to that, too. One thing remains the same though--this is a love story, through and through.

This probably seems like major overkill to introduce fan fiction but this is how I feel. Many of my old GVF friends have moved on in some way or another and I've often felt alone the past few years with still being so tethered to this group of beautiful, silly, fascinating boys that spark so much joy and fantasy for all of us. So, as always, thank you so, so much for reading my fics. I really hope you enjoy

P.S. I am cross-posting to wattpad (comments bring me life!)

---

I was getting lost in the pictures of Alaska–deep, shiny blue water, towering, white-capped mountains, a vivid stream of neon green in the Aurora Borealis, lush green forests. Even enormous, graceful whales surfacing, their tails nearly popping out of my screen as I unconsciously leaned in closer, hovering over my desk. I blinked hard as I turned my attention to the next picture that had been emailed over to me–a huge white ship, lined with windows that seemed endless–and huffed, shifting in my squeaky second-hand office chair. I didn’t even have a true desire to go on a cruise or even go to Alaska, but the neverending research into foreign lands nagged at me, reminded me that it felt like a very a long time since I’d been anywhere new. At least not anywhere exciting, really. 

I grabbed my phone and opened the gallery to scroll through the last trip Josh and I had been on. It’d been a long weekend about nine months prior, which reminded me that it wasn’t all that long ago at all but it still felt like ages since returning to the normalcy of day to day life. It had been a gorgeous summer excursion where we’d had a comfortable, clean hotel room, a warm pool and three nights out all to ourselves, and I found myself yearning for that freedom and escapism again. Plus the sunshine and heat. Michigan winters persisted, long and brutal, and we hadn’t broken through into any real spring weather until just the past week, which had at least given Sam a nice birthday. Josh and Jakes’ birthday was coming up fast. I thought it’d be nice to do something for them, with all of us–go somewhere for real again, all four of us, run amok in a hotel or airbnb. Or just have a nice dinner together followed by bar-hopping. Whatever the twins wanted, really. 

The picture I’d secretly snapped of Josh in our hotel room wandering out of the bathroom completely naked save for a towel twirled around his head came up after a dual selfie of us at the pool and I laughed loudly to myself, throwing my hand to my mouth. I’d nearly forgotten about so many of the little moments. It was so easy to forget when time kept slipping by like the wind, each good moment gone in the blink of an eye and each bad moment suspended in the air until something else came along, and the minutes turned to days and the days turned to weeks and months and before I even knew it, years had gone by and it felt like nothing and everything had changed all at once. 

Next I scrolled to a picture of the best breakfast I’d ever had, this amazing brie-stuffed French toast with a warm berry compote and housemade whipped cream, then the picture of Josh’s breakfast, which had been a skillet full of chorizo, bell peppers, eggs and queso that he’d deemed to be “orgasmic.” My stomach clenched in response and I looked at my phone clock, suddenly eager for dinner once again. My hours were almost up with 5 p.m. creeping on me and my mind turned its attention to Josh and I’s relatively new Friday night ritual–binging on Chinese and watching the most obscure, nonsensical horror movie we could find. With that, I swiveled around to stretch my legs in the sun through the window and pulled up the menu on my phone, trading pictures of Alaskan mountains for pictures of fried dumplings and greasy lo mein; a few seconds later, a very appropriate text popped up:

Hey mama, I’m gonna be a little late tonight. Want me to pick up dinner on the way home?

Yes please. What’s your ETA?

8ish? What’s on the menu tonight?

I’m gonna do the orange chicken and an egg roll. Wanna share some crab rangoon?

yes I do. What about dumplings?

obviously! 

;) see you soon 

I’d need something to hold myself over until Josh got home, though I was glad to have this part of our routine to look forward to. Stability was important and even Josh had come to understand that more and more. I turned my attention back to Alaska, mulling over the images and cycling through words in my head that I could bring to the page and entice people with, as if cruises needed more promotional materials and marketing to bring in profit. They were relatively cheap, all-inclusive and easy for people to handle and reminding myself of this made me bitter all over again–why couldn’t my company make one of their perks a free trip for employees once a year? I didn’t know their exact state of finances but I bet it could be done. They just didn’t want to. And the irony was that they didn’t pay most of their employees enough to take extravagant trips of their own.

Whatever. There were other, more important things I told myself, getting up to stretch and find something from the fridge or snack cupboard. In 32 more minutes I could clock out and put these wild places out of my head for a bit–the weather called for a long walk somewhere.

It was the nicest day we’d had so far, which I fully realized once I was driving and headed out to a familiar, easy forest trail Josh and I often did together on the weekends. But we had a busy weekend coming up, actually. We desperately needed to stock up on groceries–my most recent find of an old packet of peanuts as my last snack was testament to that–and then the boys had a show at Waterstreet. Sunday wouldn’t be as fun–my sister was repainting the entire interior of her new house and had somehow roped Josh and I into helping, in part because we were just that nice, according to Josh anyway, and also because she let each of us pick one color for one room each. Josh had chosen a shade of dusky desert red for the den and I’d chosen something called “spring morning,” a pale lilac, for the powder room, which seemed pretty fitting for the time of year she was making these renovations. 

The trail was bustling, which I wasn’t surprised by, and much of my walk was spent nodding and smiling to other people passing by. The break in weather was infectious for all of us in the area–everyone seemed to be in better moods finally, myself included even despite the gripes I had with work and money and everything else. Sometimes it felt like just yesterday that Josh and I were lying on our backs in the deep black night, gazing up at infinite stars and trying to come up with material for that poetry class that had been the catalyst to bring us together. The warm sun above me while I continued down the dirt path also reminded me of days past, of the first hike Josh and I ever had together when we both stripped down to our feelings, laughed, kissed through sweat, and had decided that was it. We’d made a lot of decisions over the years, so many that I felt like I hadn’t even noticed some of them, but I’d never decided to let fog cloud my memories. I hated that it happened regardless. And sometimes I absolutely hated what changes all the decisions had led to. I wanted to go back in time every once in a while to relive those moments and those days and it made my heart ache to know I couldn’t. Josh would assure me that the future would be just as good–and sometimes even better–than what those memories had to offer. 

And he was often right. Life was good, and I reminded myself of that as I narrowly avoided tripping over an obtuse rock sticking out of the dirt, it was just more challenging now. There was no school to fall back on–I hadn’t realized how much of a safety net that had really been at the time–and less free time. There were more financial worries. More pressures in life. But if nothing else, I had the best people in my life possible; if nothing else, Josh and I were rock solid. He didn’t let a week go by without reminding me that we were soulmates and I agreed wholeheartedly–no matter what might happen, we’d have each other. 

After my walk, I thought about running our necessary errands on my own but ultimately decided that’d be a deviation in routine I didn’t want to make. Josh was the best person to go grocery shopping with, being surprisingly focused and deliberate in his choices. He also was the best at picking out produce, somehow always able to discern which fruit was just the right amount of ripe, and he was good at finding the best deals. He was the coupon cutter, which always made me laugh, and I was the one who followed instinct more than the list we mutually made the day before. I would get caught up in being frivolous, more often than not tossing special treats into the cart that I couldn’t excuse beyond something like, “Come on, you like them too” to which Josh would agree with his cheeky little grin. 

And that same grin was on his face later that night when he came home with the bag bursting with Chinese takeout. His voice and the smell of soy sauce and that syrupy orange stuff made me hop up from the couch, excited for all the things, but mostly him.

Josh gave a little groan as he headed into the kitchen, his backpack still over his shoulders while he carried the white plastic bag in his right hand and his keys in his left. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, shuffling and rustling all the way out of my sight. “Stephanie needed extra time–she’s having trouble with the new cameras. And to be fair, they do have a steep learning curve. You remember how much trouble I had with them last week?” 

I followed him in, taking the bag out of his hand so he could zip back out and discard his keys and backpack. “Which one is Stephanie again? The one who’s obsessed with ‘film noir?’” 

Josh chuckled from beyond the walls before appearing again, pink-cheeked and smiling. “Yeah, that’s her. And that’s another thing–I’m gonna have to review how these cameras even film in black and white because for the life of me I can’t remember right now.” 

“Does she have any movie recs?” I asked as I opened a cupboard to get plates. “We gotta figure out what we’re watching tonight.”

“What about Night of the Reaper? You haven’t seen that one yet.”

“Yeah, but you've seen it,” I replied, wagging a pair of chopsticks at him. “That’s like, cheating. We gotta watch something we both haven’t seen.”

“We’ll find something.” Josh moved in close and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and my heart fluttered–it always did. “What about you? What’d you get up today in my absence?”

“I went to the Hemlock Trail. It was busy,” I told him while we both plated our respective dishes, my stomach growling. “It was nice though. Looks like we’re gonna have good weather for your birthday.”

“That would be ideal but I’m going to be cautiously optimistic. Last year we had snow, remember?”

“Yeah, like a dusting,” I said with a little laugh, purposefully knocking my hip into his. “I’m gonna be blatantly optimistic and say it’ll be good. And we still gotta figure out what you wanna do.”

“We'll figure it out, my love.” Josh led the way to the living room and sank into the couch which we could have probably done with replacing; he set his can of sparkling water on the end table then grabbed the remote. “I’m so excited for these dumplings. I don’t care if it’s cat food.”

“They do kind of taste like cat food, don’t they?” I concurred, settling down on the other side of the couch. I put my plate on the coffee table in front of us and pulled it closer. 

“They smell like cat food, too,” Josh said, picking a dumpling up between his pair of chopsticks. “I don’t mind. They’re fucking delicious.” 

“I really don’t get how you’ve always known how to use chopsticks,” I remarked, opting for a fork instead to pierce my own dumpling while Josh fished through the cushions for the remote as he chewed. “It’s not fair.”

“I’ve tried to teach you, doll.”

“And I haven’t learned, so either you’re a shit teacher or I’m a shit student.”

Josh laughed and swatted my arm with the remote. “Hush! I’ll have you know that my students love me.”

I nodded, chewing. “So I’m a shitty student after all.”

“You are not. There’s a learning curve to chopsticks too, ya know.” Josh took another bite of his dumpling then leaned forward, peering at the TV. “Okay, so–what’re we watching?”

I followed his scrolling through our shared list of choices while I tackled the orange chicken. “What about that one?” I asked when he paused on the title Devil’s Ground. “It looks pretty obscure. 1983, a director I’ve never heard of, looks grainy and weird.”

“It’s been on our list forever,” Josh said, clicking the play button. “Let’s give it a shot.”

The movie really did turn out to be obscure–the protagonist was a teenage girl who finds an old well in the middle of the woods and climbs down into it, for some reason believing that her missing brother would be down there. Josh and I chided about the already well-known fairytale parallels, except in this movie the girl encountered creatures in the world beyond the well even weirder than those in Alice in Wonderland or Labyrinth, and ended up having to get betrothed to some menacing demon, played by a giant puppet, to save her brother. Then she and her brother kill the demon and find their way out of the strange world and back in their world.

Josh laughed loudly as the movie came to an end. “That was ridiculous. One of the best ones we’ve seen so far.”

“Those puppets were something else,” I commented, watching the credits roll and hoping everyone on that production went on to do better things. “The little blue one with teeth was my favorite.”

“Why didn’t they just get a real actor for the demon?” Josh asked, shaking his head. “Good god. It was a travesty but also kind of brilliant. I could show this to my students to demonstrate the use of close-up shots.”

“The close-up on the puppet demon when he was being slaughtered seemed unnecessary.”

Josh got up and stretched, gathering all of our plates and silverware and his chopsticks. “It really was. You want me to do the dishes?”

I turned the TV off and followed him, carrying in our empty drinks. “I thought another part of our Friday night tradition was saving the dishes for the next day and we can argue about it then.” 

“No argument. You get to do them since I got the food,” Josh said as he set the plates into the sink with a clatter, then pinched my side. “Deal?”

I giggled, shrinking away from his ticklish touch. “Deal.”

“Anyway, my darling,” Josh began to say, twirling away from me and to another kitchen cabinet. I watched, amused at how he always struggled to reach far enough up to get the wine glasses. “There’s a full moon tonight. Let’s go see it.”

“What? There is?” I asked, trying to peek at wherever it may have been through the kitchen window, our third-story apartment giving us a halfway decent view of the sky most of the time. That was one of the few perks of this place–we’d moved in last year, sizing up so I could have my “office” and enough space in general for both of us to not be completely on top of one another–though Josh never complained about that–but the building was old and lacking a number of things, namely outdoor space. Our little balcony was all we had anymore. 

Josh trailed out, wine glasses tinkling in one hand while he held the mostly full bottle of red wine in the other, and I followed again, feeling a sense of eagerness for the night sky which I hadn’t felt in, well, about a month. Our life together was full of tradition, I had come to realize in time, and a viewing party of the full moon whenever possible was certainly one of them. I’d just been too wrapped up in Alaskan cruises to remember this one on the calendar. 

The night air was chilly–a tingle ran down my spine and Josh noticed this as I sat down next to him on the cushioned bench we’d garbage-picked right after moving in. He skillfully and quickly poured each of us wine, set the bottle down and wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. 

“It’s gorgeous,” he declared, his voice as rich as ever but a softness brushed through those words. I always loved whenever he got so starstruck over something that he couldn’t help but be concise. 

“It really is,” I agreed, pulling my gaze away from Josh’s equally–if not more so–gorgeous face to take in the huge globe of bright cool white above us. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know what planet I’m on.”

Josh laughed, light and affectionate. “You’re on planet earth. It’s disappointing sometimes, I know, but if we weren’t here, I’m not sure we’d be able to see the moon and the stars like this.”

I took a drink, already lulled by Josh’s voice and his warm, strong arm around me. He’d always been strong, considerable muscle secure beneath silky tan skin, but he’d gotten stronger still; the muscles had become even more obvious and I sometimes poked fun, and a little bit of envy, at him for being a “hard-body” because, well, he was. I’d learned to memorize the curves and lines of his body throughout the changes, tracing every plain and valley with my fingers whenever I had the chance.“Probably not, no. We’re really lucky after all, aren’t we?” I said, reaching up to stroke his hand over my shoulder. 

“I think we are. Especially if we can see the stars wherever we go.”

“Speaking of–earlier I was thinking about how it’s been a while since we took a trip anywhere.”

“Yeah? Well, where would you want to go?” Josh asked, bringing his wine to his lips. “Not Alaska, I assume.”

“No, not Alaska. But I don’t know, Josh, I feel like we should go somewhere soon.”

Josh took another drink, looking ahead through the darkness that was interrupted by various porch lights from the other apartments rather than up at the jeweled sky. I’d expected enthusiasm–he’d have more free time soon with the semester coming to an end and I still had a lot of vacation days left, making the whole thing easy in theory–but he was uncharacteristically quiet. 

“What?” I prodded, tugging at his wrist. 

“No, nothing,” he assured me, coming alive again with his body squirming beside me, his hand grabbing mine in reciprocity. “I was just thinking about it. We should both think about it some more.”

I returned my attention back to the moon and the stars and a memory overcame me so viscerally it actually hurt–the abandoned barn, the vast field, the endless sky hanging overhead the two of us. “Alright, let’s think about it,” I concluded, wishing that the place we could travel to was back in time. 

Josh sighed and curled around me. “I feel like a dumpling,” he said, lifting a hand to pat his stomach, and I laughed right into the night along with him.

---

Tagging no one because my list is so outdated that none of those people are even in the fandom or use tumblr anymore LOL please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

[leefi]

Could you tell me more about Chicago? I don't hear it romanticized as much as New York or LA but I've always wanted to go to complete the large U.S international cities tour

Sure! Here are some big hitters from a tourist perspective. (Disclaimer, this is gonna be basic because I'm writing it rapidfire, so please don't judge me fellow Chicagoans 😭🙏 and feel free to add!!):

GREAT food scene. It can't compare to New York or LA by volume but what's there is consistently excellent and isn't as overwhelming as those two.

America's best skyline. I'm being so serious. If you care about architecture you need to visit this city. If there's one touristy thing you do in Chicago, take the Architecture Tour on the river. It’s genuinely worth it even if you aren’t big into architecture!

Less important as a tourist, but genuine, unpretentious, friendly people. Most of my friends are transplants from other cities and it's near unanimous that Chicago is the friendliest/most sociable city they've lived in.

Our summers are PHENOMENAL. Constant events, free movies on the green at Grant Park most nights, festivals, and BEACHES. People don't realize we have beaches IN THE CITY!! Because we gatekeep it from outsiders!!! It won't compare to the ocean, of course, but it's such a nice thing to have access to in the summer! (and beautiful to walk on year-round, which leads me to my next point)...

Our lakefront is 99% public access, with a walkable path that winds up and down the entire city. You can walk the ENTIRE trail down the city without needing to detour. My second biggest recommendation is to rent a bike and bike as much of the lakefront trail as you can, especially in the summer. It's so lovely - city skyline on one side and blue on the other.

The birthplace of improv comedy and a major hub of jazz, blues, house, R&B, and hip-hop. If you see an improv show while you're here, there are lots of great options - Second City and iO are the biggest. Second City is the "original" of the originals, and if you see a show there, I recommend checking out green street farmer's market a couple blocks down and seeing a show before/after. It's in a really nice area. I'm not well versed in our music scene unfortunately!

Incredibly diverse neighborhoods with a lot to explore wherever you are in the city.

Northalsted/Boystown is the oldest offically recognized gay neighborhood in the US. Andersonville also has a really vibrant LGBTQIA community and is home to a LOT of wonderful local shops and food joints. It's a really good "walk around/explore" neighborhood. Actually, both of them are. (I don't know much about the nightlife unfortunately).

Bar scene - tons of really cool speakeasies and dive bars, some prohibition-era. Worth checking out if you drink.

Rooftops. Our city loves a good rooftop restaurant/bar. I'd recommend this over riverfront dining. We've got beautiful architecture, a lake, and a river to admire from them, and you can enjoy them even if you don't drink! Lots of really good happy hour deals abound.

Chicago-specific foods to try while you're here: Deep dish pizza, Chicago-style hot dogs, Italian beef sandwiches

i am here and i am very cute and gorgeous.

Some photos to sell you! These are from google. My phone is dead and I'm too lazy to crawl through my camera roll but trust me it's jorjus

[saryasy]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

hi jo!!! thank you so much and to @writerkenna and @livingincolorsagain for the asks! okay let's see in no particular order:

1. 500 Days of Winter, M, 16.7K

In a small, dark room in the middle of nowhere, just outside Bucharest, two bodies intertwine. The chorus of sounds and three little words plays over and over and over again. They don't let go for one second.

Tomorrow the world will come knocking at their door, their lives will be turned upside down, but for now, they have each other, and for now, that's more than enough.

Or, the story of Sam and Bucky, and the five hundred days that bound them together.

okay I lied I'm starting with quite possibly my favorite fic I've ever written. I've put a lot of work and care into this one and I'm extremely happy with how it turned out. helps that I was possessed at the time and wrote it quicker than I ever would

2. my struggling form, my willing soul, T, 2K

It was hard, being back into the cold, gray world that was his New York apartment.

Sometimes, his eyes would look around frantically, searching for a sound that rang through the stillness. Only for him to realize that the sound came from within; an old memory, laughter and music, dancing, kids running around. A tender touch to his neck. A satisfied smile of finally being home. Eyes as beautiful as the sunset they were watching, just as striking, just as deep.

He could look at nothing else till the day he died, and would die happy and sure that he’d seen the most beautiful sight this world had to offer.

the first fic in my inspired by Hozier series! it was born into existence through sheer stubbornness (and my deep need to do a bucky character study) I kept listening to the song (which I still fucking love) and reading the lyrics and then this happened and I couldn't be happier

3. darling, i’d go through it again (if i could hold you for a minute), M, 1.8K

There’s an irritating feeling in his chest, making it harder to breathe. It was like this when he first stayed home and Sam started going on missions alone - well not exactly alone, but without Bucky. It took some time, but he got to a better point where he could actually breathe while Sam was away.

This is different, though. This isn’t the tightness of chest he’s come to be on familiar terms with, nor is it the forceful beating his heart has gotten used to dancing to.

He wants to voice it, to let it out, but when he goes to, the words lodge in his throat.

another one from the series and my first MCD! I really liked playing with the fantasy elements in it too

4. for all of the things i am (not), G, 1,8K

‘You’ll find the one,’ people like to say, but the thing is, he already has. He was lucky enough to find him in the scorching desert heat; blond locks that looked like they were on fire, a pair of green eyes so captivating, you couldn’t help but follow them everywhere, and a smile that could bring the proudest men to their knees. He found him, but he slipped away from between his fingers in the darkness of the desert sky as he sank to his fate. Forever falling, forever gone.

Or, Sam's grief catches up with him.

had to throw in my only gen fic up to date and ngl I wanna write another one. unfortunately the engagement with these is quite low I find myself leaning towards character studies with background shipping. but yeah would love to do it again

5. Firsts & Lasts, T, 613

You never know that your last time is going to be your last.

Or, Sam considers his lingering feelings for Riley, and his developing ones for Bucky.

look I have such a soft spot for samriley, I love writing them so fucking much. the tragedy is oh so gorgeous. I really hope to write that samriley idea I have one day

[actuallycassidyiambusy]

Okay so I saw a post you reblogged a while back with a picture of your ocs. They are absolutely gorgeous and I'd love to know more about them! Is that archangel a boy and do they have history with that demon?? How'd you come up with their names? Aeshma and Talon are so unique!

Oh, dear sweet anon, now you've done it.

*deep inhale*

I don't normally post about my original work, but if I'm asked, I shall speak.

I have been working on Helpless since the beginning of my 9th grad school year. It's a series. A few years ago, my work was published through Palmetto Publishing.

Though, due to them being too apprehensive about having a gay protagonist, I cut ties with them.

I am now working with a publisher out of the UK. Olympia Publishing. I had a lot of other offers, but most of them were vanity publishers. With Olympia, I have all control of what is published.

I did a lot of revisions and book one will be coming out either late this year or early next. It will have a new cover with a different allure. Peep it:

Talon is a boy for sure. He's just graced with beauty. His mother is Aphrodite and his father is Saint Michael. He is the first son of an archangel and goddess. He's gentle and understanding, unlike his father. He spends his time with the garden angels and finds comfort in being outdoors. His father wants him to follow in his footsteps and lead the angelic army alongside him, but Talon doesn't like the idea of war. Pointless bloodshed saddens him and he doesn't understand why either side feels the need to battle over petty disagreements. I often describe him with feminine grace and appearance. He's soft spoken and dignified, but not to the point of arrogance. He is also the only angel in heaven with pink eyes. He's slender and he's 5'9" When I describe him, I mention that he sparkles in the sun like fresh snow. His father keeps him away from his mother so she doesn't influence him to step away from the path of an archangel. Talon is torn between making his father proud and doing what makes him happy. He doesn't want to be a warrior. He wants to work in the gardens.

This is some really old art I have of him. I have to work on some more now that I picked up a new program. The ginger is Fawn. She is Talon's best friend.

Aeshma is a Persian war demon from a place in hell called Khadah. A place in the circle of wrath. His parents are Amara and Angra Mainyu. Both of them are war demons as well. He was bred for battle, starting his training as soon as he could run. His kind have been at war with Michael for years and Angra makes Aeshma a commander in the demonic army. He's cocky but humble. It's very hard to get him to switch from soldier to young demon who wants to have fun. Aeshma is almost seven feet tall and built like a tank. Chocolate brown skin and jade green eyes. He's covered in battle scars. He makes his parents extremely proud. He's a ruthless killer who has taken down kingdoms without the aid of an army. So, when it comes to invading heaven, Aeshma is the one Angra can count on.

A meeting is called by Michael after he invades Khadah and kills Aeshma's sister. Angra accepts and brings a small group of demons with him.

Talon is forced to attend this meeting. None of the angels know that Angra's presence is only a distraction from Aeshma's attack. They don't want peace, they want revenge.

This attack leads to Aeshma breaking into Michael's house and stumbling across Talon. While other demons want to kidnap and sell Talon, Aeshma makes the decision to let him go. Talon is intrigued by Aeshma and even decides to accompany his father to hell where they sign a treaty.

I don't want to give away too much, I could talk for years about this, but I'll just give the basics for now.

Talon and Aeshma start to meet in private. In one of Heaven's abandoned gardens. Eden. Aeshma is there for information and Talon is there to get to know him.

*insert a shit ton more lore and plot here lmfao*

Michael ends up finding out about what Talon has been doing and he imprisons Talon. Talon escapes and Michael's only option is to cast him down. He subdues Talon's angelic powers and strips him of his memory. He kills Talon and has him reborn to a human family. An abusive family that see him as evil because of his paper white skin and pink eyes. He was born to a twin brother, Tyler. Talon ends up with a red streak in his hair. Michael describes it as his physical scarlet letter. And his life will be nothing but pain and suffering.

That's what book one is about. Talon's life as a human. His battle with neglect, abuse and sexual assault. Living in a place where no one wants to help and no one cares. He finds peace in one human, who in fact isn't human. David.

Talon learns all about possessive behavior and psychological abuse without even realizing it until it's too late. He also doesn't realize he's being hunted. While it's subdued, demons and angels can smell Talon's power. Asmodeus and Samael included. He falls into the lust demon's grasp, lured in with the idea of revenge on the people who have hurt him.

All this leads into a hefty series of Talon finding out exactly who and what he is. Royal demon blood is blended with his angelic golden ichor, turning him into a hybrid. One of the most powerful weapons in all creation. And he is faced with a decision. Michael isn't the only angelic threat to Talon and his newfound family. It goes all the way up the political angelic ladder. Being a hybrid and possessing the blood of Michael, Talon is the only one who can bring him down.

There is literally so much that I left out, but hopefully that was enough of a lore drop lmfao

I deeply apologize for the massive info dump, but I am literally so excited about this series, I could cry. I worked so hard on it.

There will be

Helpless

Helpless: Retaliation

Helpless: Revelation

Helpless: Redemption

Helpless: Revolution

And it will all lead up to the release of Divine Chaos which will be all about Talon before his fall.

The names took me forever. I have a shit ton of characters throughout the series. The Dictionary of Demons is a MAJOR life saver when it comes to name and even lore. It's a fantastic book and if you're writing about angels and demons, I seriously recommend it.

[sayhellotothedusk]

For Henry 🫁 only

The way I imagine the whole thing is admittedly simple

I've gotten home from an overnight shift, tired but very happy to be home and finally crawl into bed with you, just home in time to know you'll still be asleep if you had good luck staying asleep.

You can imagine my joy, double checking your text or walking in and seeing that little signal we agreed on for days like these, hoping against everything that you slept well and deeply for more then simply the love of you.

Imagine my joy, walking as quietly as I'm able in the front door, muffling it's click behind me and shedding work clothes as carefully as I can before I go to see if youre asleep. Imagine how excited I am, seeing you soundly asleep in the bed we share, sporting whatever we decide tells me exactly what you want to be woken up to.

Between aching joints and an aching heart my love, there's a part of me that aches far worse, and you just gave me the green light to soothe at least that ache so we can both rest easy.

It's all too exciting to be able to spread soft kisses across you, trying so hard to stay delicate enough not to wake you prematurely, a game testing just how featherlight I can be. Hearing your soft breaths against my skin, freezing at the slightest shifts, holding my breath till you seem to settle and leave me free to take handfuls of you for myself to admire.

I wish my words were more adequate in how long I'd love to take, but with the sun coming up I know I won't have forever, just long enough if I'm careful to give you a proper good morning.

Eventually I might not have the patience or fear running out of time, and so I wander lower for a taste of you, knowing you'll open up so easily if I move you gently enough. I'm free to admire you then, how the wetness of you glistens on my fingers, how good it feels to finally be able to touch you and the thrill of the risk I might wake you up too soon.

Listening to you get more breathy, little clipped sounds come through without a thought. I wonder if you truly process much about the moment, if your mind registers anything other than the feeling that touch causes, if you're any closer to feeling it with each finger that gets added, rubbing inside and out. Slowly, carefully, trying to stretch you open but by bit and not take too long, saying small blessings for the curtains that ward off the full brightness of morning light long enough to allow me this moment.

I know I'd be overeager, all too desperate to pull my fingers or tongue and lips from you (as devastating as it would be). How difficult it would be to sink in slowly enough not to wake you at first, starting to draw closer to being impossible to sleep through.

Those gorgeous broken little whines, high and fragile as glass in my ears, all too close to disturbing that hazy state of mind.

Whether you wake or not, you offer me an absolutely gorgeous sight, relaxed completely and utterly, my love, my sunshine. The way you stretch around the length of me, every gorgeous and undignified sounds you're simply too exhausted or unaware you're even making. You are absolutely perfect this way.

It can end one of two ways really, and both are equally exciting.

The first is that I happen to wake my pretty baby up just a little too early. Perhaps I was too hasty, too intensive too quickly, or maybe you simply rose from sleep faster then I could see through the game. I lost, but I would hardly call what follows a bad thing. Stirred awake to the feeling of being full, of being gently broken down. If you're awake, I have no reason to pretend I'm doing anything else, and I can add much louder things to my tools just to see you crumble, to watch you cum for me before you even have the thoughts enough to process words, to feel yourself be filled as deep as I can.

The second is that I win, I don't quite wake you too early, or whatever I do is simply not quite enough to fully raise you from the depths of sleep. I hope you're having a good dream baby, given the pretty sounds you keep making, the nonsense mumbling. I hope that even if you don't wake up, I get to watch you tense, feel you squeeze me tight and take every drop I have for you. When you wake at your true hour, dizzy with the remaining euphoria, still soaked and leaking what I left for you.

Either way, no matter when you wake up, it will be a lovely time for me to take care of my bedtime routine, after I can smother you in kisses and clean up after myself of course. A wonderful way to say good morning, and goodnight for my post shift bedtime with you beside me.

[rei-caldombra]

Yubisaki to Renren Anime Episode 8 and 9 Review - Friends and Lovers.

Back to the lovely world of Yubisaki to Renren, this time covering episodes 8 and 9. As usual there will be spoilers. Also I just noticed while I was finishing this that the flags match the colors of one of the characters they are nearby. If I wanna go into overanalyzing mode maybe the flag positioning symbolizes how Yuki and Rin are very close without any issues between them while the green flag being between Kyouya and Itsuomi symbolizes how there is actually a hidden rift between them. Who knows… I don’t actually think there is anything to the latter while the adorable friendship between the former is very clear. 

Every single character in this show is gorgeous at all times, even in casual mode. We got deep into Shin’s backstory in episode 8, with it explaining Itsuomi’s relationship with him as well as his relationship with Emma. What I am taking away from Shin’s character is that he is very insecure, feeling inferior to Itsuomi. And that still seems to be affecting him now. Both in high school and in the present day, even with Itsuomi being off the table romantically he is unable to be honest with his feelings towards Emma. He is unwilling to be honest because he is assuming he would never be picked over Itsuomi even if he is not available. The girl Shin was dating in high school hit the nail on the head, he tried to use another girl to get over it but clearly could not shake his feelings. This leads to a one sided relationship that she is understandably upset by.

The above dramatic line goes to show how deep his insecurity runs, where he can directly lie to everyone when he has the perfect chance to be honest. This can also be seen as his speaking this out loud to try to convince himself that this is how he should think. I have struggled a lot with an inferiority complex, especially in high school, so I can relate to where he is coming from. It makes it even harder to change the status quo they are stuck in after Emma remarks on how nice their relationship is. The character animation continues to be really good in this episode, the way Shin’s mouth moved when he was hesitating to tell her how he feels accentuates the emotion of the scene by better matching the voice acting. This is a struggle that looks like it will continue amidst everyone else having very successful romantic pursuits as we see in episode 9. 

This is my favorite outfit of the ones they showed at the beginning of episode 9, I love her hair with the black shirt. One thing that a series can do to really engross me in their world and characters is showing them with lots of different outfits in their daily lives. It breathes a lot of life into the characters, making them feel more natural and real. I appreciate when characters don’t seem like they must have a closet full of the same outfit they wear pretty much every day, and have no interest in fashion or expressing themselves. It also gives the audience more displays of the character’s identity and personality. How much this matters can depend on the show, but for slice of life and romance I really think this can make a big difference on immersion. If the characters are in situations where you are constantly looking at them in largely static ways, it is easier to pick up on details like this. In a romance show it can especially matter because they are in situations where they want to look attractive, stand out more or less, etc. It is also better on the fundamental level of making the visuals less samey. Different outfits can be a notable way for people to remember segments of the story too. Another show that does this really well is Demon Girl Next Door. I’m really happy to see this concept that I'm fond of being present in Yubisaki to Renren. 

The sign language bootcamp is such a fun idea that fits perfectly for the characters. This was a great way to create new situations for the characters to be in for romantic shenanigans that feels like a completely natural outing for them. We got some notable progress between Rin and Kyouya and some sweet moments between Yuki and Itsuomi. I adore the moment when they point out random objects in their vicinity and have Yuki translate them. It was so natural and funny. We also got to make the point again of how seriously Itsuomi takes learning sign language while the others are trying but not as serious. 

The mature tone that the show carries when it comes to the romance really comes through with the conversation between Kyouya and Rin. Kyouya has the perspective of someone older (they apparently have not confirmed his exact age so I am gonna go with my gut and assume he is around 6+ years older than them) who is not looking to go through the motions of playing the romance game with lots of people. He was previously in a long term relationship and that is seemingly what he desires. He is the type of person who would only put the time and energy into attempting a relationship with someone he could take seriously. This is a feeling I know resonates with a lot of older people who have moved past the type of thinking you see in romance involving younger characters. The point of not wanting to spend the energy on romance is a feeling a lot of people in general can relate to. It takes a lot of mental energy that is already taken up by everything else in life, which I appreciate the show acknowledging. The maturity of the characters is also shown with Emma directly shutting down her coworker rather than letting his advances drag on. 

Continuing with the above point of emotionally mature characters, It's so nice seeing characters be direct with their feelings in a romance. Kyouya wasn’t certain if he was picking up on her intentions or not, but when presented with the chance he made the effort to bring it up and get the confirmation. Rin was nervous around him but when the situation came up she came right out with her feelings in a way that fit the conversation. He even opens up about his deeper feelings, such as feeling jealous over the phone call and being childish. That last point felt perfect, as even more mature adults still have their issues and insecurities. He may be notably older than the rest of the main cast but he still has things he can be immature over. It’s very satisfying to see characters be emotionally open and vulnerable when they have taken the time to have that openness feel earned through their friendship. I was afraid her twisting her ankle would be used to put off this conversation, but it didn’t really do that. While we did not get a clear answer as to if they are now dating, they both clearly made the feeling known to each other that they are interested in giving it a chance. And I am totally fine with their relationship moving forward in that kind of context. It does not need to be as black and white as dating or not, with their feelings known I am under the impression that they are going to see where things go naturally. Which is a valid way of growing closer romantically. I’m glad we got this focus on Kyouya that really gave us the first proper glimpse into who he is deep down, and excited to see where it goes. Honestly I was not expecting things to go this way. I thought Kyouya was not going to be interested. I correctly picked up on Kyoya’s not being as gung ho about romance, but did not think he was going to be interested in Emma. I do not oppose this development though. And at the end we get just a bit back into Oushi who is also harboring long held feelings that are not being made known. More on that next episode.

And that’s another 2 great episodes covered. This show continues to not have a single dip in quality or have anything I feel critical about. I can’t wait for more! Thanks for reading!

[draconicsparkle]

A suggestion from sweet hearts cakery! A very cute idea for sure!

A staple of many fics with vast size differences. Wondering how it would be if they were similar heights. Both angsty and cute at the same time. Though I’d say this is more on the cute side.

Hey you!!! Yes, you!!! I need your ideas! Please share them with me!

While the twins were preparing and consuming a wonderful smelling dinner at the human’s home, Nagito found himself lying out in the grassy open area and staring up at the sky. He had turned himself so that he was laying on his back, gold belly scales facing up and his head resting against the soft dirt. He never tired of watching the stars, a gorgeous painting of light on a dark canvas.

He loved it when the moon was full and no clouds were present. Such a pretty sight with all the stars. He heard from Sonia that other places closer to human cities didn’t have as good of a view. Something about artificial light. But he didn’t care to analyze the reason for it. He just considered himself immensely lucky to be blessed with his forest and its natural treasures.

The only thing that was unfortunate was that he was alone to see this. Sonia and Gundham were at the eccentric human’s residence in the woods and the twins were occupied in the brunette’s home. And while he understood that humans fed themselves much differently than his kind, he couldn’t help the loneliness. His life partner was in a place he couldn’t reach. And a thought popped into his mind, one that was not new. What would life be like if he was smaller? If they were of similar sizes? Would their relationship be different?

He shut his green eyes, taking a deep breath and releasing it. The calm and stillness were encouraging his body to doze off. And he saw no reason to refuse the call. So he slowly drifted away, his last waking thoughts entirely on his human.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Nagito. It’s time to get up.”

The naga groaned and buried his face in his arms, wanting to continue his rest.

“Come now, don’t be so stubborn. It’s late morning. You can’t sleep the day away.”

The voice above him kept insisting. But not yet! He was still very sleepy.

“I see. Guess I have no choice but to do this.”

Nagito jolted as he felt someone card their hands through his hair. Nails gently scratched at his scalp, making him let out happy noises in response. “Feels… nice…” he sleepily whispered, tilting his head for a better angle.

“Glad you think so. Maybe you can have more of you get up and come with me.”

It was tempting, so very tempting. He guessed it wouldn’t hurt to do as the voice said if he got more head scratches. So he slowly blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the light. Though once the haziness cleared, he shot up suddenly. “Hajime? Wait, why are you…?”

The brunette tilted his head eyebrow raised. “Why am I what?” he asked, at eye level with the naga.

Nagito wasn’t able to reply for a few moments. Hajime… was the same size as a naga? Or was he now more human-sized? He still was in his normal body, as he felt and saw his emerald tail. But somehow, there was no massive size difference. Magic? A different universe? Or something else?

Whatever the reason, he did not care. This was an opportunity that he would not waste. “Nothing. Pay no mind to my earlier question. Can you please lead the way? I’m still sleepy and need a handsome, reliable guide to help me.”

Hajime rolled his eyes with a blush. “If you really want me to, I can’t say no. Come on, let’s go,” he said as he held a hand out. Nagito stared at the hand, slowly slotting his own on top of it. So similar in size now. His were only slightly longer, but he was able to grab hold without fear. He squeezed the hand, smiling when he felt a squeeze back. Hajime laughed a bit. “You’re acting like you haven’t held my hand before. Do you like doing it that much?”

Nagito squeezed again, meeting the hazel eyes. “I would never tire of holding your hand. All the touches we share are special.”

“I think so, too.” Hajime tugged on his hand, silently requesting for the naga to follow him. To which Nagito was more than happy to do so. They traveled through the house they were in, though Nagito didn’t recognize any of the decorations or furniture. It was as if they were in a totally different house. But he didn’t pay it much mind, as he was enjoying this so much.

They finally reached a large open room, with a few chairs and a tv on the wall. “Here. We can relax in this room together.”

Nagito smirked as he moved in closer. “Hajime. Did you wake me up only to relocate me to this room? Did you perhaps miss my company?”

Hajime rolled his eyes, though his cheeks were still tinted red. “And what if I did? Are you complaining?”

The white hair bounced as Nagito shook his head. “Not at all. It’s perfect.” Then he finally went for it, something he had wanted to do for so very long. He wound his arms around the human’s body, hugging him tight. “It’s just as wonderful as I imagined. I’ll never forget this feeling,” he whispered to himself, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Hajime’s neck.

He felt the human’s strong arms wind around his back, one on his upper back and the other tracing the area where skin met scales. “Clingy, aren’t you? But I can’t blame you. I’m crazy about you, too.”

Nagito sighed blissfully, lowering both himself and his beloved onto the floor. He laid him down on his coils, making sure he was comfortable as he did. “This okay?” he still asked.

Hajime began petting his locks again. “Couldn’t wait til we got to the couch? I’m fine with that.”

Nagito leaned into the scritches, whining happily. “So good. I love whenever you do this. No matter what size.”

“Size?” Hajime questioned, though his hands didn’t stop their movements in his hair.

Nagito opened his eyes slightly. “I know this isn’t my reality. I’m dreaming. And it’s a truly wonderful dream. When I wake up, you will be different. But only in size. You are just as sweet and caring as my Hajime. Truly, I am the luckiest naga in the world.”

Dream Hajime hummed. “Glad to hear that you think so highly of me. But now that you know this is a dream, do you want to awaken?”

Nagito shook his head, clinging tight. “Not yet. Let me indulge in this feeling for a little longer.”

“As you wish.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Nagito didn’t keep track of how much time passed in the dream world. All he really remembered was being softly pulled away from the embrace by a warm light. It had been so comforting, so he didn’t fight it. The next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes in the real world. And he was delighted when he felt and saw his Hajime petting his hair. Though he did have to strain his arms a bit to reach.

His beloved did notice his consciousness, lowering his arms and resting them on his cheek. “Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you. We didn’t mean to take so long. You can go back to sleep. I just wanted to come check on you.”

He was so small compared to the naga. Not even taller than his shortest finger. But somehow, in this small body, there was so much kindness. So much care. It made his heart beat like crazy.

Carefully, Nagito used his hand to hug the human to his cheek. He wanted to say one thing before falling back asleep. “No matter what bodies the universe places us in, be it big or small, same or different species, I know one thing for certain. You are the one I love the most. Please don’t forget that.” He let his hand fall away and he closed his eyes, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. He looked forward to the next morning, when he could see his beloved again.

Masterpost

[natasha-in-space]

Hey! I'd love to hear your opinion on two things of the Halloween Mystic Messenger screen

First of all what do you think of Rika in the Dirndl (germans traditional women clothing) I think she looks quite snazzy, the colors are unusual on her but she looks gorgeous either way

Second of all, do you think Rika is Hänsel, Gretel, or the witch cause I am not sure. Like for the role she plays in the game, the witch would make a lot of sense, but she only gets out of her house after the children started eating her house, so I doubt it. And I forgot who was the one wanting to eat the house first of the siblings so I don't know 😭 I tried gaining understanding by looking at MC's clothes. But I have no idea what she is wearing, so I am at a loss and would love to hear your take on it!

Sending lots of love, dear <33

Hi! Thank you so much for such a in-depth ask, it was a ton of fun to sit and muse with my thoughts and ideas on Rika's birthday CG we got.

So, first of all, I gotta agree with you there: that's definitely a form of dirndl she's wearing! The designs look awfully similar for it to be a mere coincidence to me. These dresses can come in so different designs so it's a very versatile type of clothing to work with. Here are some examples of what I mean:

And here's Rika's dress up close for comparison:

Personally, I adore dirndls and their rustic yet elegant look. Never knew the specific term for such a dress, but now I do! It's not a sophisticated dress per se, but the simple beauty it brings out makes me super happy. If you think about it, it does fit Rika quite well. While she certainly loves to dress up every once in a while, her day-to-day style is quite modest in its nature. She's not wearing any dark colors in this cg, but it's not the pure white dress we saw on her two years ago either. To be honest, this color palette of green and blue on her makes me smile. It's not black or white, there's no darkness or light. At least, not in a way that would get your attention right away. She's not trying to embody the darkness or the light here. Instead, it's such a peaceful and soothing combination of colors, and I think it fits her very well. I also really like the yellow apron she's wearing! Is it, possibly, a callback to the dress we see on her in the game and the past she's trying to forget, only for it to remain by her side in one shape or another? Who knows, but it's a fun theory. Though, it should be noted that her outfit is still done in a cold color palette. It's certainly a way more colourful look on her than we're used to seeing, but in spite of all that, there's a certain type of deep melancholy surrounding her, even with a gentle smile brightening up her features.

Okay, now that we're done with her dress, let's talk symbolism! I'm gonna put up the whole CG now:

I'll be completely honest and say that it's been a while since I've read Hänsel and Gretel, so I had to quickly reread it to get a good feel of the story. It's very easy to assume that Rika's the witch leading MC away with the alluring promise of endless sweetness, only to trap them the moment they let their guard down. After all, the castle of Magenta sure does fit the sweet and inviting exterior of the witch's candy house pretty well. At first, it seems like a dream come true to the hungry and tired children, up until the very moment they finally get inside and see the ugliness hidden within these candy walls. That's what I thought of at first too! But, after rereading this story for your ask, I actually got another idea all together.

See, in the story, Gretel was wearing an apron. Not sure if she was wearing it from the very beginning, or after they finally freed themselves from the witch's clutches, but it's definitely there! And what do we see Rika wearing? That's right! An apron. Furthermore, I decided to look into the way Gretel is portrayed visually. To my surprise, she's often seen dressed in a classic dirndl. Which is actually not that surprising, since this story was published in 19th century in Germany, but hey, I didn't know that before :D Gretel was also the one leading Hänsel to the candy house, if I'm remembering it correctly.

So yes! Everything actually points to Rika being Gretel instead of a witch. Which means that MC is definitely Hänsel. This opens up a whole other possibility from a narrative standpoint. I wonder who the witch is then, though... But, I must admit, I REALLY like the idea of Rika initially helping the witch, albeit reluctantly and through her own tears, only to eventually find enough courage inside herself to break free and trick her, saving MC with her own hands. It's a nice parallel, considering that Hänsel (MC) was initially the one leaving pebbles and breadcrumbs to make sure that they'll return back home safe and sound. MC was also the one caring for Rika and promising her that everything will turn out okay.

Though, Rika still very much could be the witch, and I'm just looking way too deeply into this '^^ But, I must admit, I like the idea of her being Gretel much better. I want her to be happy!

Perhaps, Mika is the witch here. She's the one that first planted the idea for Mint Eye in Rika's head and she's the one telling her what to do for a short while. Mika playing the role of a witch that lured Rika and MC into her candy house only to force Rika to do her bidding does kinda fit the story. Maybe she locked MC up, because they were trying to warn Rika not to listen to her. I always loved the idea of MC knowing Rika before the start of the game, and how that would change up the narrative all together. I'd say that the father they return to in the end of the story is V, since he was the one genuinely caring for the kids, however his kind heart still did not stop him from unknowingly leading them to their doom. It does fit him quite well, I think. He's a good man doing his best and failing in the process, like we all do sometimes. Though, I have no idea who should be the evil mother... She's the one that quite literally abandoned Hänsel and Gretel in the middle of a forest, so... I don't know. I could go for a literal route and choose Rika's mother, but it's still feels kinda iffy and on the nose for it to make sense.

[thebestskeers]

“Good day to all!”

I hope you’re all having just a lovely time. I can proudly say I am not, a pesky Gryffindor stole my tie for a ‘potion thing’ and didn’t give it back, and now I must suffer the wrath of his aunt. But on another note, I’m happy to be here with you lot!

now, let’s do this one last time, right from the beginning. Aaand with a few clarifications.

This is an ask page (mostly), and yes I am a 7th year! I’m open to answer your slightly more ‘freakier’ questions.

No, I am not MC. They’re a bit of a pest, really. But they’re certainly keeping Sebastian busy since Anne went away. I’m still not sure what’s happened with her.

I am in the British time zone, whatever the posh letter for it are. So please be mindful of when I’ll most likely be asleep! … and ignore that I posted this at 3am! :)

Now, onto a few fun facts so you can get to know me!

My Appearance:

Yes, this is the most accurate photo that shows how I really look! And despite how it looks, this is not a mugshot. I have rather pale skin, but I’d caught a tan in this photo.

I have golden blonde hair that can be quite darker at the top sometimes, though I am a natural blonde. It’s naturally straight and rather thick, it falls just below my shoulder blades.

my eyes are actually green, but in every common light they look grey.

I do wear makeup, but only a little. Weasley always seems to notice the days where I put on a bit more lipstick than others.

My House:

I am a Slytherin purely by nature I suppose. My mother was a cold-hearted, determined and genius potioneer and the top of her classes in Slytherin house, but my father was… not the same. My father was apparently quite the troublemaker, and a crazed Gryffindor, he was expelled in his 5th year for covering for my mothers mistakes, the two really were in love at some point in time.

My Family:

My mother is a complicated woman. I don’t live with her anymore, but I did until I was 11. When I was 12 I spent all year at Hogwarts, then when I was 13 my father finally got custody of me. I’ve lived in the lighthouse with him ever since. But, my mother was a very stern woman. We lived in a large house, since I came from a weather lineage. I wasn’t allowed to leave, ever. My mother runs a… risky business. She couldn’t risk her children leaving and being targeted as hostages. There was only one garden, full of gorgeous flowers and glowing green beds of grass. But, that was the closest I ever got to going outside until my Hogwarts admission letter. Then, I left and never looked back. She couldn’t keep control over me anymore.

My father is hysterical. And not in the funny way. He left me and my mother just a few weeks after I was born, because he felt himself losing his sanity. He’s still the same now, occasionally he runs away but he always comes back. Usually for a sandwich. He owns 7 chicken coops but no chickens, lives in an abandoned lighthouse, and only seems to wear flannel shirts. Other than all that, I forgave him when he took my in when no one else would. He’s always going to be my beloved father.

My twin brother, Colin Victor-Skeers. He’s my mothers and my step-fathers child, just not through blood. and it shows. He’s always been rather cold, but he only seems to open up around Sebastian. We never really got along, we still don’t. But thanks to Natsai we’re at least on talking terms now.

My beloved little sister, Greta Victor-Skeers. She looks so much like her father. She may only be a third year, but she’s still so little in my eyes. She seems intimidating and cold but don’t let that fool you, she’s a sweetheart deep down. Not to mention she’s got a bit of a crush on that boy running Crossed Wands, she’s just too scared to admit it! Oops, you didn’t hear any of that ;)

My Friends:

My dearest and longest friend, Anne Sallow. We all know she’s got a thing going on with Natsai, we’re not stupid. She’s an angel, a saint, a gift sent from the heavens above. When I went along my merry way to Hogwarts in my first year I still had no concept of social cues and was struggling to find my way around. Anne was the first and only person who helped me that day! She introduced me to her twin brother and his best friend, and since then she’d been my closest ally. …wherever she is now, I hope she’s still smiling bright.

Sebastian Bartholomew Sallow… what is there to say? Has he got his darker sides? Sure. Have I had a crush on him before? Yes. Did Anne tease me endlessly? It’s very obvious. But in all seriousness, he has to be one of the smartest wizards I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Even if his knowledges are in some of the more questionable ends of magic. He’s always treated me right, and I know I could go to him for anything.

Natty! Oh, my girl! Y’know, we have a pact? If neither of us are married in ten years we’ll tie the knot ourselves! Goodness, Natty has to be a close tie for second with Sebastian. She’s the kindest and most loving soul I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous, not to mention! I could talk about her for hours and hours but… I’m afraid she’ll wallop me.

Ominis Gaunt, a charming young man! I don’t know an awful lot about him, but we’ve known of one another since the train ride to Hogwarts in our first year. Mostly because he accidentally bumped into me, but I helped him pick-up his things after a cold scolding from the boy. I admire him, really. I’d help him through thick and thin.

Garreth, please, oh please, bring me my things back. Weasley here enjoys taking my things for his potions. Last week it was my favourite perfume and today it was my tie! Almost makes me wonder what he’s making. But, he’s a sweetheart, I must admit. He always lends a helping hand, is a big hugger, and is very good at letting me know when my lipstick is smudged. He even does the honours of helping me neat it up! He likes telling me I’m pretty cool too, like, a lot. I’ve heard from his older brother in 6th year that he’s got a thing for me, but I find that hard to believe.

I believe that’s all there is to say on my part! Feel free to ask a question in my ask box, shoot me a message, or just read through! I’d be happy to answer any other questions you have!

With all my love,

Kathleen N. Skeers &lt;3

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)

a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”

You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.

“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.

“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”

“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”

“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.

“Then what is this about?”

“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.

“Complaints?”

“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.

“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”

“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”

“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”

You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.

Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.

“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.

As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.

“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”

“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”

“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.

“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.

“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”

“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”

“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”

“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”

You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.

You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.

“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”

“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”

“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.

“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.

Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.

There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.

Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.

“This is her.”

“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”

“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.

“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.

“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”

“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.

“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”

“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.

“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”

“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”

“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.

“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”

You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.

“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.

“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”

“With who?”

“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”

Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.

“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”

“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.

“Well, I guess I’ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.

“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.

“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.

Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.

Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

-

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[angelasscribbles]

Fate: A TRR One-Shot

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam contemplates who he'd like to chose at the end of the social season, but he is there a reason he can't follow his heart?

Rating: G

Warnings for this chapter: none

Word Count: 948

My other stuff: Master List.

When Maxwell told me they were bringing back a surprise from New York, he was right. I couldn’t have been more surprised.

I was expecting some type of souvenir, a trinket, possibly even live fowl, knowing Max. What I wasn’t expecting was a woman. A whole human being. But that’s exactly what he’d meant. Max and Drake showed back up in Cordonian with a woman.

And what a woman she is. She’s amazing, the most amazing one I’ve ever met. And I’m not talking about her looks, though she is stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful. Gorgeous, ravishing, exquisite. She’s pure perfection. She’s a work of art, is what she is. Every curve of her face, every soft line of her body, sublime. Her eyes a deep emerald green like Ireland in the spring. I could get lost in those eyes and never come up for air. I could drown there, die there, happily, blissfully.

But I digress.

She’s smart, far too smart to waste her life waitressing in some hole in the wall in New York. And funny. Her sense of humor is unparalleled. No one has ever made me laugh the way she does. And she gets me, she really gets me.

I feel like a normal person when I’m with her. Not the crown prince, not a Rys with all the baggage and detritus that implies. All the damage, all the commiserate responsibilities and expectations to fill. She sees none of that when she looks at me. She sees me, just me, just Liam.

She makes me feel like the man I want to be, the boy I used to be and the king I hope to be all at the same time. It’s an incredible gift and I don’t know how she does it. She makes me feel alive in all the best ways. And I know that I’m hopelessly and irrevocably in love with her. Though I shouldn’t be.

I’ve tried to fight it but I’m helpless, soft, weak for her. When I’m with her, I see my future. I know it sounds cliche, it sounds ridiculous, it sounds impossible but when I look in her eyes, I see my unborn children.

She’s perfect. If she has a flaw, I haven’t found it. And I’ve looked. Lord knows I’ve looked. I’ve done everything in my power to fight this feeling, this hold she has over me, this all consuming desire, this borderline obsession. Because I can’t do this, I can’t.

She’s absolutely off limits to me. I’m about to be king, I have duties to fulfill, obligations to meet. One of those obligations is to marry an appropriate, council approved lady from a high ranking house and produce heirs to secure the Rys family bloodline. And that can’t be her.

It can’t be her and it’s breaking my heart. It’s tearing me apart. How can fate be this cruel?

All my life I’ve done the right thing, the expected thing. I was the good son, obedient, responsible, loyal. I’d like to think I’ve been a good prince, fulfilled my duties with honor and integrity. I’ve been a good brother, a good friend. So you’d think I’d have earned a little karma, right? You’d think there’d come a time when it was my turn to be happy.

When Leo abdicated, I spiraled for a few weeks. Panicked. I wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared for this burden, this responsibility. But I am now. Leo was right, I was born for this role. I have an almost sixth sense about how to say and do just the right thing in diplomatic situations. I have my country’s best interests at heart and I’m much more confident in my abilities now than I was back then. I’m ready.

I’m ready to lead, to rule, to take my rightful place on the world stage. And I’m ready to do that with the right person by my side. I’ve never been the type to do casual when it comes to relationships, to sex. I know a lot of men my age are still sowing their wild oats, but not me. I’m ready for it all. Marriage, children, growing old together. I’m ready.

So what's the problem? The problem is I have to choose a wife in a matter of days, and no matter how much I may want to, I can't choose her. And everyone else pales in comparison. I’m a young man, the rest of my life is a lot of years and I’m forced by regulations and directives out of my control to spend those years in a loveless, empty shell of a marriage when all I want to do is choose her. But I can’t.

Can't, because she's not an option and she never was. She didn't come here for me, she’s not a suitor in the social season.

If only I hadn’t gone back to the hotel that night, wanting sleep because I had to leave earlier than everyone else the next day. Maybe if I’d met her first. Maybe if I’d been in that bar with the guys that night, maybe then things would be different.

But I wasn’t there, she didn’t meet me that night. She didn’t meet me until after she arrived in Cordonian, on the arm of her new boyfriend, the one who swept her off her feet in one fateful night. The one who looked at her with such love and adoration that I knew I’d never be able to pry her away from him. And I feel like the worst person in the world for wanting to, because Drake Walker is my best friend.

But I do want to. I’ve never wanted anything more.

[sashi-ya]

~ 🌸 Cherry Blossoms Over Wano Event 🌸 ~

Sfw ~ Sanji x F! Reader ~ Food for the Kids of Ebisu

tw: spoilers from Whole Cake Island. A little angsty. Super fluffy 💖

wc: 1.8K

Like this event? masterlist 🌸~

My dear @simp4ace here I am with your request my darling! I hope you enjoy this sweet little scenario of our lovely cook! Thank u so much for your support!! Love u! 🌸The request was:

@simp4ace asked: Can I have food for the kids of Ebisu with Sanji please? SFW and with F!reader if it's alright hehe

His golden locks flow with the subtle breeze of Ebisu city, and his smile shines brighter than the sun. Who is that Soba cook? The technique he uses to stretch the buckwheat noodles is strange yet looks as if he was a professional.

Every kid smiles with a big bowl of Soba in their tiny hands, they genuinely do, not because of the SMILE fruits effects, but because they are extremely happy. So many of them have never tasted a simple -yet exquisite- plate of Soba in their life and it’s sad to say probably not even a warm bowl of anything either.

“(Name) you should taste this! It is amazing!” a little kiddo from your town offers you some noodles with his chopsticks. “Thank you, sweetheart! Don’t worry, eat them all! I will get one for myself” you tell him, because even if the poor little child was famished, he was sharing his portion with you.

You keep walking over the arid and inert soil of your city that once was green and full of flowers, towards the Soba stand of that benevolent man who keeps cooking with a smile on his face, giving the kids as many plates as they want for free.

“Hi…” you salute him once you are close enough to see his face. Blue eyes like a deep ocean, fair skin, fancy looking brows, but a noble expression that makes you feel safe and warm by just looking at him. “Oh… hi, mademoiselle! What a beautiful woman you are! Do you want some Soba from my Soba stall?” he offers you, in the most chivalry way possible, and you could swear his eyes got hearts when he saw you.

You nod, because frankly your stomach growls and the scent of such gourmet preparations is making you hungry, really hungry. His soft hands graze yours when giving you a big bowl of soup. He points out that for you, carrots were cut in heart shapes. Truth is, he did the same for every kid, making them surprised and amazed to see vegetables in cute forms.

“Thank you so much, Sir. How can I pay you?” you ask, ashamed because of taking some food that might be just for the kids. “Your mere gorgeous presence has made me happy enough, it’s nothing! Plus, it is my duty to feed the starving people” he says, and then again that sweet beams shine its light over you.

You couldn’t help but smile too, all of you are used to Kaido and Orochi’s guards mistreating you, asking for huge amounts of beri you don’t even have, forcing you to eat scraps and rests and even contaminated water.

“Then I’ll help you here! Can I?” you ask, not only for how grateful you feel but also because you really wanna stay next to him a little longer. His cheeks get sprinkled in a pinkish dust, and his face shows how surprised he is from a girl to ask a simple question. “Y-you wanna stay here with me?” he mumbles, amazed.

You giggle, astonished. Why is he saying that as if nobody would like to be next to him? “Of course, sir! I wanna help, tell me what I can do and I’ll begin right now!”

He jolts, perhaps a little offended. “NO. Your soft hands, my lady, cannot be used for this. I don’t want you to work! Let me prepare you another bowl and a place to rest where the sun won’t heat your skin and damage you”

In no time he has put a stall in the shade and somehow you have already a place to eat like a princess. You can’t believe how helpful he looks, almost like a maître. It’s amazing. “I… Sir, thank you… but… at least, what’s your name? I’m (Name)” you ask, ready to dig in the second plate of his delicatessen.

“I am Sanj… I mean, Sangoro! Yes, the best Soba cook in Wano!” he informs you, with his hands at each side of his tiny waist. Buts it is fun to say, he was of course lying and no “Sangoro” lived in Wano. But he is helping the poor children, and there is absolutely no doubt he is a good man. Who cares why and how did he get here, the only thing that matters is his heart.

“Glad to meet you, Sangoro! I haven’t seen you around Ebisu before, but your presence here feels like a miracle. Many of these kids have perished because of hunger, so you can imagine how a blessing you are”

He turns around for a second and takes his forearm to his nose. Is he crying? “Sangoro, are you alright?”

Glossy blue eye looks at you, eye that hide something painful, a dark past perhaps. “Yes, my lady! I’m a hundred percent fine now that I have your company here” he lies, once again. But those are not bad lies, those are lies that have to be said. And it’s ok, it’s fine.

After many of the kids and old people have indulged in the blessing of his Soba noodles, Sangoro feels exhausted, yet he never shows it to you… oh but you can see it. “Sangoro, would you like to take a walk under the moonlight?” you offer him, realizing that your words had the effect to make his curly eyebrow twitch.

“Of course my lady, I’ll be glad to” he says, taking his hands to his nose immediately. A little red drop slips through his fingers, and you soon realize he is having a nosebleed. “Oh, Sangoro-kun! You are bleeding! Let me help you” you tell him, taking a little piece of clean cloth you usually use as a handkerchief to his face. Gently you push his hands off his nose and clean the string of red fluid coming out from his nostril.

You give him a sweet beam, those smiles that feel like a healing caress to your soul, without knowing your beauty was indeed the cause of his bleeding. “There, you must be really tired from working all day Sangoro-kun. Come on, let’s have a walk” you tell him, grabbing his sweet wrist and pulling from him.

He follows you, stumbling a little. He is not speaking, but only looking at the way your hair flows with the wind and the butterfly hair pin he hasn’t noticed until now. Your mother’s gift, a black and white butterfly that looks like it's flying around your hair whenever you use it. You have no wealth, but that is the most precious treasure you hold. And you chose to wear it today…

After walking into the forest, the side of the nearest pond where the inverted half-moon reflects, seems like a good place to rest. “Let’s sit here, don’t you think it is super pretty?” you tell him, as happy as ever. Sangoro, smiles kindly and nods. You don’t know if he is not into you or if he is out of words. In any case, you don’t mind. You just want to be with him at least for a little more time.

You dip the tip of your toes in the warm water of that pond, playing with some marimo moss balls floating around. “Marimo” Sanji mumbles and giggles a little as he sits on your side, and then looks at the moon. The silver light bathes his fine profile, from his pointy nose to the goatee on his chin. He looks more like a prince rather than a cook, but who are you to say either way? you haven’t seen a prince in your life.

You thought of saying something, but instead, you decided to say nothing. Contemplating in silence his beautiful face had its own lure.

Yet there was something that caught your attention earlier… when grabbing him by his wrist you noticed a mark on his skin, as if he had tight bracelets that he recently took off. “Could they be shackles? Was him a criminal? But… he looks so noble” you think, kind of freaking out since you have taken him to an isolated place with you.

“Uh… (Name)-chan… what a pretty hair pin” he whispers, pointing at your hair and breaking the mental state you were in. “Oh, it was my mother’s gift. It is really pretty, you are right!” you chime, trying to avoid the crippling need to ask about his marks.

But you just can’t close your mouth. You can’t…

“Sangoro… what’s with your wrists?” you ask, holding his hands softly and inspecting the marks under the white wash of the moonshine. The blonde widens his only visible eye and looks straight into the pond. A much sadder expression invades his face, and some tears form into his eyes.

You, desperately, -and frankly feeling guilty for making him sad- say to him he doesn’t have to tell you anything. But he insists, yet, never able to watch your face during his speech.

“So… uhm. My family… well not my family anymore, but you know those who are blood related to you. Let’s say I was forced to do some stuff and to avoid me escaping they put some bracelets on my hands, like those collars the celestial dragons use with their victims… the exploding ones, you know? I am a chef, my hands are sacred, I couldn't… I couldn’t lose them” he says, sobbing.

You tighten your grip around his hands and have the feeling he's talking about this for the first time to someone else since it happened. “I’m so sorry, Sangoro”.

“Actually, my name is Sanji” he confesses, now looking at you with a tear running through his cheek. “I knew you weren’t called “Sangoro” nobody has a name like that, you know?” you tell him, laughing a little and wiping the tear with your thumb. He giggles, laughing softly in between crying.

You hear for the very first time a sincere laugh from him, and it’s a beautiful melody of pureness and innocence. Something that motivated to take his wrists to your lips and plant two sweet kisses over them. “Thank god these hands were saved” you mumble. Sanji’s lips tremble, “yes, they were saved…” he beams.

Your eyes fix, and for a second or two none of you said anything. Maybe you just met him, but you felt like you already loved him. And you suspect he is feeling the same way towards you. Is it appropriate to kiss him? you ask yourself, biting the inside of your mouth until…

An alluring butterfly, with white wings and black body perches on your nose. The cute insect looks just like your hairpin. The image of it reflects in Sanji’s blue sky eyes and he slowly approaches his index to your nose, allowing the butterfly to rest now over it.

“Hi…” he says, smiling warmly at its graceful slow wing motions. You remain silent, in awe until the little cutie flies away.

“Sanji… can I kiss you kn0w?” you ask, sure this wasn’t the most romantic way of saying stuff and owning a playful laugh from the blonde.

“Yes, the butterfly said it was ok to do so” he laughs… 💖🌸~

[letmeplaytheliontoo]

Green, Green Shorts

TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3032

Summary: “Oh really?” you say, giving your ass a little wiggle against him. You hit pause on the movie and turn to face him.

“I just . . . “ his eyes run down your body, devouring it as if it was his first time seeing it.

“Just what?” you purr as you start to kiss along his jawline.

His hand stretches down your body to reach for the skin of your thigh as he takes your lips with his. You hook you leg over him to straddle him and you’re greeted with the feel of his hardening length. He takes your ass in both hands as he breaks away.

“I fucking love these green, green shorts,” he pants.

You erupt with a laugh. Whatever you thought he was going to say, it wasn’t that.

SMUT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

This is my very first fic. Please be gentle with me.

I am a bisexual who can't decide and so I wrote this as two versions (his/hers). The other one is on my page.

Thanks to Capzi for being such a supportive and wonderful beta.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says, removing his mask. He crossed the room and gave her a light kiss.

“You’re home early,” she says in reply, taking off her heels.

“If you’re just getting home, you’re home late. You’re working too hard.”

“Ha! Says the savior of Manhattan.”

“Hey.” He wraps his arms around her waist and rests his forehead on hers. “I just want you to be kind to yourself.”

“I know, love. Thank you. We’re just getting buried at work,” she exhales and start to snuggle into his chest. “What the fuck is this sticky shit on your suit, Peter,” she says with a tired laugh.

“Uuuugh, I got slammed into a soda fountain while stopping an attempted robbery.”

She laughs at the image. “Oh, Peter, you’re getting too old for this,” she says, giving him a warm, adoring smile.

“Oh, my back is well aware of that fact.” He grins. “Take a deep breath. Relax. I brought home take-out—"

“From the attempted robbery place?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to turn down food.” He laughs and gives her a peck. “I know how much you love egg rolls. I’m in for the night. Let one of the other dozen supes take care of the city tonight. Let’s just enjoy a nice night together. Give me just . . . seven minutes to shower and I’m all yours, babe.”

After eight years together, he knows that they both feel better if he showers before snuggling up with her. He strips off his sticky suit and throws it in the washing machine, once again grateful that she had inherited a rent-controlled apartment with a washer and dryer. He doesn’t get paid enough at the Bugle and certainly not as Spider-Man to help out much financially.

As he washes off the grime of being the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, he thinks about how tired she looks tonight. He can tell that she had had a bit of a day. A bit of a week, if he was being honest. This global burnout is getting to everyone, even his girl. He decides he wants to make tonight as easy and comforting as he can for her.

Peter steps out of the bathroom wearing a very worn Ramones t-shirt and his favorite grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips. He comes to the kitchen leans against the door frame to watch her.

She’s wearing her favorite purple top. It’s the top she was wearing in his favorite pictures of them. It had been just a random day, five or more years ago, when they decided to play hooky and go to the aquarium. She looked so pretty and carelessly happy that he couldn’t resist photographing her but when she noticed that what he was doing, she had demanded that he turn the camera on the two of them. They were the best photos he had ever taken. Now the shirt is very worn. She keeps putting stitches in it every time a new hole appeared so that she can keep the shirt as long as possible. She always looks gorgeous in it.

She’s also wearing those fantastic, soft, super-short, green shorts. He can see that she’s taken off her bra and her make-up. Her hair is up in a messy bun and there is a large glass of wine next her on the counter. All of this told him she was in desperate need of all things comfy.

A smile stretches across Peter’s lips as he sees her biting into an egg roll. He finds himself captivated by the relaxed joy she has on her face as the flavor hits her tongue. God, he loves this woman.

“Thorry,” she says with a full mouth when she realizes he’s watching her. “I got too hungry to wait for you. Want some wine? Wanna watch something?”

His smile is broad and easy. “Yes. And anything you like.”

She decides on Deadpool 2, a comfort movie of hers. As a former theatre kid, she really appreciates the Yentl jokes. Peter admits that he’s very charmed by Wade Wilson and, if he’s honest, a little attracted to Ryan Reynolds.

She relaxes into the couch, leaning a little away from him and on to the armrest. He looks down at her legs and see all of that gorgeous skin on display. He loves how her body has spread over their years together, especially her thighs. And, Jesus Christ, these shorts. These green, green shorts. They’re so wide in the leg that he can very clearly see that she isn’t wearing panties. And this top, God, he doesn’t know why she ever wears anything but this top. Her breasts look so perfect in it.

He pulls her back over to himself and slides behind her in a spooning position and kisses her neck as he slides his hand across her round hips. He learned on their second date that she had a weakness for her neck being kissed and he has used that information to great effect since. She releases a sigh of contentment.

His right hand starts to lightly skate over her body. Gently stroking the skin exposed between her shirt and shorts, he hums in appreciation of her silky skin. Peter can no longer resist and he brings his hand up to cup her breast, over her shirt. It’s more of an affectionate gesture than purely lustful. He adores the weight of her breasts in his hand. Then he lightly brushes the skin just above the neckline of her shirt as he feels himself start to harden behind her ass.

“Oh really?” she says, giving her ass a little wiggle against him. She hits pause on the movie and turns to face him.

“I just . . .” His eyes run down her body, devouring it as if it was his first time seeing it.

“Just what?” she purrs as she starts to kiss along his jawline.

His right hand stretches down her body to reach for the skin of her thigh as he takes her lips with his. She hooks her leg over him to straddle him and she is greeted with the feel of his hardening length. He takes her ass in both hands as he breaks away.

“I fucking love these green, green shorts,” he pants.

She erupts with a laugh. “Peter, these are just cheapy shorts I picked up at Target.”

“Thank God for cheapy Target shorts. And this shirt,” he hums trying to kiss his way down her chest while remaining underneath her. “You’re never allowed to get rid of this shirt,” he adds as he sucks a nipple through said shirt.

He elicits a tiny moan from her for that but he responds with a growl and suddenly he has lifted them both off the couch to pin her against the wall. He knows she hasn’t had many partners who could hold her up during sex and he loves how she reacts when he uses his super strength to do so.

“Babe,” Peter wines, “I don’t think you understand what this outfit is doing for me.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed. What with the pinning me against the wall with my legs wrapped around your—” He pulls her face towards his to kiss her deeply as he thrusts up against her center.

She hastily grabs the bottom of his shirt, seeming desperate for more of him. Once his shirt is gone, she rakes her nails up and down his chest and back while kissing his long neck. She looks up at his smiling face as he tries to breathe through the pleasure of her hands and lips on him.

“These shorts are too dangerous,” he huffs.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, they give me too much access to this pretty pussy,” he says as one of his long fingers ever so slightly grazes her lower lips. He feels her wetness and her whole body gives a little shiver as he smirks at her reaction.

“Do you want to cum on my fingers? My tongue? My cock? What do you want, babe?” he hums by her ear in between kisses and feather light strokes over her clit.

She thinks for a moment before whimpering, “D) all of the above?”

“Oh,” he says delightedly, “eager much?”

“Please Peter, just don’t let me think too much.”

He stops. She looks at him almost nervously. He sees how stressed she still looks. He lets her down so he can take her face in his hands. He kisses her slowly with all of the care he can. “Of course, my love. Anything you need.”

“Good,” she says grabbing him by the hips to pin him against the wall, “because I would really like to suck your dick right now.”

“Hey—” he starts before seeing her down on her knees kissing just above his sweatpants. He tries to focus. This wasn’t where this was supposed to be going. But the feeling of her nails skimming over the V of his hips as she pulls down his sweats . . . and the hunger in her eyes as she comes face to face with his cock . . . Jesus Christ, she is making him loose his mind, he thinks as his head hits the wall behind them.

She wraps her fingers around his smooth shaft and places an open-mouthed kiss on his head. She brings her tongue out and starts to lick him like he’s an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day. He remembers that she mentioned learning the technique from Dr. Ruth and it makes him chuckle. She looks up to lock eyes with him while she take his cock deep into her mouth and start to stroke the rest of him with her hands, which cuts off the laugh in his throat and he gasps.

She looks so sexy with her top sliding off one shoulder as she bobs up and down with his cock in her mouth. She uses one hand to start running her nails over his balls and, Jesus, he could just die. He grabs her by the arms and pulls her up to kiss her.

“You are stupendous and I love you and thank you but I want to take care of you,” he kisses her deeply. “And I need my stamina.” He pulls his sweats up and then wraps her legs back around his hips so he can carry her to the bedroom.

His kisses are urgent now, firmer. One hand is behind her head so his fingers can tangle into her hair as his teeth graze her bottom lip. He places her on the bed and starts to run his hands all over her.

“I think, I’ll start with these,” he says bringing his hands up to her breasts. She relaxes into the bed as he brings his mouth to the top of her shirt while his hands slip beneath. He gets a hold of a nipple and gives it a flick with his fingers which makes her breath hitch deliciously.

“This top is wonderful but I need more access now,” he says, pulling it off of her. As soon as her tits are exposed his tongue is on one nipple while his fingers work the other. She squirms under him.

“Don’t be too gentle, Peter,” she pleads just before he starts using his teeth to worry her nipple.

“I know what you want, love,” he purrs as his hand moves up the inside of her thigh. His long forefinger slides slowly up her slit. “You’re so wet—”

“Your fault,” she hisses.

“You definitely seem to be enjoying it though,” he chuckles into her neck. Her hips give an involuntary jolt trying to get his finger to her clit but before he does he brings his finger to his mouth, sucks it lasciviously, and moans.

“Peter, please . . .”

“I want to taste you.” He grabs he by her hips and pulls her to the edge of the bed. He starts to kiss her thighs and hike up the shorts. He considers working around the shorts but instead he raises a little higher and starts to kiss her beautiful soft stomach. He hooks his fingers into her shorts and pulls them off. He pulls back to admire her naked form. No matter how many times he’s seen her naked, he is always blown away by her.

“I will never get over your pussy,” he says at barely a whisper. He takes a tiny beat before his mouth is kissing up her thigh towards her center. Her breathing quickens and he looks up to find her fondling her breast. He groans at that which makes her look down to see his devilish grin before licking up her slit to her clit. ,

Her composure seems to break. He starts to run a pattern over her clit. She’s wiggling and huffing but he holds her still so he can slide a finger into her. He hums his approval on her clit as she quakes.

“You like my fingers, huh?”

She tries to roll her eyes as she says, “What do your spidey senses tell you?”

He laughs but she moans lightly and her insides flutter as he adds another finger and starts to thrust them in earnest. He starts to lick the pattern again and she buries her hand in his hair. She clearly needs to hold him where she wants him, which makes him smile.

“So good, baby,” he says, practically on top of her clit.

“Please, Peter, suck on my clit.”

He happily obliges while he curls his fingers inside her. He can feel that she’s getting close.

“You taste so good,” he pants. He takes his fingers out and uses her slickness to lightly touch her back entrance. He knows that doing this makes her cum like very little else.

“You want it,” he asks, smirking, knowing what full well what her answer will be.

“God, yes.” He slowly, pushes his finger past the tight ring of muscles while licking her clit. Her breathing is deep but building in speed as he gets to the second knuckle. The combating impulses of her gripping his finger and relaxing to get more inside is fucking incredible. He hums on her clit and suddenly she’s toppling over. She seems to be totally unconscious of the fact that she is just moaning “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” as she cums and he holds her in place as he fingers her through it.

“Peter . . . cock. . . please,” she begs, pulling him up to kiss her. She reaches to pull down his sweats. His cock feels so hard, leaking pre-cum, and she looks ravenous. As soon as his knees are on the bed, she straddles him. He loves this but he holds her up off of him so he can take his cock in his hand and drag it slowly between her lips .

“Fuuuuck . . . baby. . .” The head of his cock brushes against her clit and she shakes over him. “I think I am going to drag this out.”

“I had a feeling that you might,” she says, nipping at his ear. He lays her back so he can run his cock through her lips more. It’s the most delish torture. He keeps brushing her clit with his head and he hopes he can make her cum again. “Peter . . .”

“I know, love. You’re so good. I want you to—”

She beats him to it. Her orgasm is powerful and she’s screaming his name as one long noise. But he’s not letting up and he continues to stroke her through this orgasm too.

“My turn, bug boy.” She rolls him over and pulls him into her center before he realizes what’s happening. She inches down onto him and his eyes flutter and they both groan. She waits. She knows him well enough to know he needs a second after waiting this long.

“Hmngh . . . I’m okay baby,” he says, while pulling her down for a searing kiss. She starts to move up and down on him. Her pussy feels incredible and still so snug on him. His hands are running all over her body trying to touch anything, everything he can.

He loves this position. He loves that she can control the strokes and angle them just the way she wants. She is rocketing up and down magnificently but he can see her exertion is waning and he smiles. He reaches one hand to hold her ass up so he can thrust into her from underneath. He brings his free hand to her face and puts a finger in her mouth.

“Get it wet, love. I want you come with me one last time.” She takes it and runs her tongue over it.

“Touch me, Peter,” she whines. He rubs tight circles over her clit while he drives into her. Her hands are in his hair and she’s kissing his neck, making him quake while she hums in pleasure.

“Jesus, so good . . . Peter. . . Yes, fuck, please, yes.”

“Are you going to cum, baby? Once more? Hmmm, God, I’m so close,” his thrusts are becoming less controlled. He thrust and hits that something inside of her so deep. He hits that one spot once, twice, three more times and she is yelling, begging, utterly incoherent and he loves it because there’s only her and he is yelling back her name over and over and over as he thrusts one last time.

He holds her to him and he’s whispering in her ear as they both try to level their breathing.

“Jesus, babe. That was . . . outstanding. You are amazing.”

“Coming from ‘The Amazing Spider-Man,’ that’s quite a compliment,” you grin, collapsing into the crook of his neck.

“I think I’m going to buy you a thousand of those cheapy target shorts.”

“If I’m going to get sex like that out of it, I’ll happily wear those shorts every day for the rest of our lives.”