#like last night i had a dream i was the nanny for this family. and i think the dad wanted me? or the mom thought the dad wanted me

[scorpioriesling]

Invisible String - Part 6

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Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): Please be advised; this part might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: My apologies, this took forever for me to finish writing for you all (I've had so much on my plate lately). I hope you’re ready — all we have left is the finale! I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't read the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- I hope you are excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @mellowmusings @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori @dannul @velarisdusk @lamarmotta @paintedbyshadows @i-know-i-can @adventure-awaits13 @acourtofbatboydreams (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

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"My bow tied?"

You sigh as you adjust the golden ribbon tied in the little girl's hair, her wide eyes looking to you for assurance. Though it's about the fifth time she's asked you to confirm, you answer her once more.

"Yes, dear," you say, smoothing down the front of her corduroy dress with reassurance. "I promise I tied it into your ponytail really good."

She nods, her little body buzzing with anticipation and excitement. You take her hand, leading her toward the front door of the Forest House where her father waits.

"Ready for your first day?" He asks, smiling prodly at his daughter though you can practically feel the way his heart hurts inside.

"I am, daddy!" She bounds over to him, clutching the strap of her pink backpack with a fluffy bunny printed on the front. When Eris arrived home with it last week, she could've practically exploded from sheer excitement.

He helps her slip it over her little shoulders, bending down and kissing the top of her head as he gazes at her. Your heart swells -- you knew, this wasn't just a big day for Riley, but for him too.

"We should walk outside -- the carriage service will be here soon, you won't want to miss it." He winks, and Riley giggles as she jumps up and down.

"Daddy -- Y/N coming too?" She asks as he takes her hand in his. He glances to you, and your eyes widen.

"Oh, no, honey, I think your father should bring you to your first day of school," you explain hastily. She huffs, trotting over to you and wrapping her small fingers around your palm.

"Pleeeeeeease, you come too?" She asks. Eris only shrugs, and you glance down into those big, pleading eyes once more.

"Alright, then," you hesitate, and she continues her celebration as though this was her birthday. Eris glances out the window, turning to face the two of you again before speaking.

"The carriage is just down the way; ready to go, Riles?" She nods, looking back to make sure you're following.

"I'll be just behind you," you say, jogging to the kitchen as they make their way through the front door. Spotting the mason jar in the middle of the table, you reach for it, and then hurry to catch up with the two out front.

:* ✧･ﾟ:

The rest of the day goes on per usual, though the house is errily quiet with Riley's absence.

Eris left for the Palace soon after Riley got on the carriage, which left you in the Forrest House... alone. All day.

You were cleaning for what felt like the 25th hour of the day when the clock struck 3 pm, and you quickly hurried outside. She would be home any minute, and you were dying to know how her first day of public school went.

Sure enough, the gleaming ivory of the carriage made it's debut over the hill; stopping just at the end of the drive. The doors were barely open before Riley burst out, running as fast as she could to you up the drive.

"Chris-anthem!"

You kneeled, stretching your arms wide as she lept into them full-force. She held onto you tightly, the only adieu to the carriage coach a small wave before he set off once more. When she finally let go, you asked her.

"How was your first-"

"A Chris-anthem!" She squealed again, this time thrusting her clenched fist toward you to look. In her palm, she held the stem of a rather wilty, dying orange bloom.

"Ohhh, your flower," you realized. "You asked what it was, hm?" She nodded happily.

"Yes! And Miss Peachum says its a Chris-anthem!" You chuckle, realizing the plant is indeed a Chrysanthemum.

"Ahh, I see," You say, half-distracted by the approaching male on horseback trotting toward the stables. His hair is radiant in the light of the setting sun, his shoulders set as he comes more into view.

"We should go inside -- I think your daddy is almost home, and I'm sure he'd love to hear about your first day at school."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

The routine becomes a little more established over the next couple of weeks as all of you adapt to the new schedule. On days Eris goes in later, he gets up with his daughter and gets her onto the carriage; on his early days, you do it. It's a nice routine, one that is almost perfect.

Almost.

You still longed for the feeling of his sheets, his warm embrace as he'd hold you through the night. How good it felt, even for just a short time, to feel so comfortable, as though your longing had been satiated -- now, it felt like those days were as good as gone.

"Oh, Y/N?" His voice was quiet in the silent hall of the house, Riley put into bed after another long day. You were jsut about to retire to your chambers when he spoke, his steps quick to catch you before you went to bed.

"Hm?" You turned, facing him in the dim evening light. He stepped close enough so you oculd make out his features, every freckle on his nose and the exact curve of his jaw -- but not too close to touch.

"I, uh, I just had something I wanted to ask you about," he fumbles, and you lean against the doorway as his eyes finally find yours.

"Anything," you say reassuringly, hating how uncharacteristically nervous he's being. He swallows, his lips parting in thought before he speaks again.

"The uh, the annual court ball is happening in three days," he says, his brows knitting. "And, uhm." He coughs to clear his throat, and you raise an eyebrow.

"Yessss?"

"Well, it's in the evening, um. I have to go, I mean. I have to attend." He says, biting the inside of his cheek. You nod in realization, your heart sinking just a bit.

"Right, right, I figured as much. I, uh. I don't have any plans, I mean, I'll be here, for Riley that night-"

He frowns, taking a step closer and looking straight down into your eyes.

"No," he says sharply, his features relaxing when your eyes widen. "I, um. She has, someone else to watch her that evening." He nods once, and you look up at him quizzically.

"Okay...?"

"Would you join me?" The words come out so fast you almost don't register them. "I mean, to the ball. Would you..." his fingers lightly take yours, his thumb tracing a small circle on the back of your hand.

"You. Want me. To go with you?"

He chuckles, his hand holding yours with ease. If only he knew the tidal wave rushing through your veins at this very moment-

"I do," he assures, bringing the back of your hand to his mouth to press a small kiss to it. "I'd be honored, if you would join me."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Three days was not near long enough to get yourself in check.

By that, you were feeling so nervous -- no matter how many times you'd redone your makeup, or re-tied the laces on your gown -- you still stared at yourself in the mirror, barely believing the events that were to unfold tonight.

A soft knock on your door pulls you from your daze, the wood creaking as it slowly opens.

"Oh... wow," Eris sucks in a breath, coming to stand behind you as he gazes at you through the mirror. You continue to pick and fiddle with your gown, only halting when his hands rest on your waist.

"Y/N, you're beautiful," he muses, and you can't help but blush. Gazing at him through the reflection, you agree -- you were beautiful, the maroon fabric hugged you nicely and complimented the accents of his jacket to a tee.

"Thank you," you whisper, and he turns you to face him. A small smile creeps onto his lips as he takes you in before him. You can't help but grin back, as the man oogling you is quite handsome himself.

"Are you ready?" He asks, and you take a deep breath, glancing at yourself once more over your shoulder.

"I am," you hesitate. "I just... I hope your parents won't think less of you for bringing me tonight."

Eris huffs a laugh, his eyes meeting yours in the glass.

"Darling, I don't give a damn what my parents think. Especially my father."

You chew on your lip, his words not resonating with you like he hoped they would.

"I just... I'm not like you, I'm not... a High Fae," you sigh. "I'm nothing like Selene-"

"Good." His fingers prod at your chin, turning your head to face him directly once more.

"I'm glad you're nothing like her, Y/N." Your heart melts, his words finally hitting home.

"You're everything and more, love," you swear his lips are inching toward yours with every word he speaks.

"She could only wish to be half the woman you are."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Living in the Autumn Court your entire life, you could've never imagined the royal balls were anything like this. Not even close.

Your gaze shifted from person to person, taking in everything from their elaborate attire to their pointed ears. Weaving through the crowd of people and lingering stares, the insecurity from earlier resurfaced as you glanced down at your rather plain dress.

"Eris," you hissed. He turned, leaning in close to speak with you. "Why didn't you tell me to get something more..." You struggled to find the word. "Ball-appropriate?"

His grin sent a shiver down your spine before his warm breath against your ear could.

"I think you look absolutely divine, Y/N."

Your cheeks heat again as he reaches for your hand, giving it a small squeeze before opening his mouth again.

"I need to make an appearance at the dais," he explains. "Will you be alright-"

"Yes. I'll wait here." You nod, not exactly as confident as you'd hoped in meeting his parents so soon. He kisses your cheek quickly, the brush of his lips a momentary relief against your flushed face before he makes way for the dais. His father tracks his movements, every step watched by those beady eyes.

You'd known the High Lord was, well... cruel, to put it plainly. He was unfair, and demanding, and took advantage of the power he held -- which is exactly why your stomach begins to turn as his focus lands right. On. You.

"Thank you all, for coming tonight." He bellows, standing to speak to the crowd in the throne room. Every head turns to face him, every eye focused on him as he scans the room. Eris stands confidently next to his father, with the Lady of Autumn politely standing on his other side.

He continues his short announcement, the music resuming as he finishes and demands it be so. As people begin moving and partnering off, your worry returns. Where was Eris? No longer beside his father, you look around you, not spotting that firey red head of hair anywhere among the crowd.

That is, until two large hands snake around your waist from behind, his familiar chuckle causing your breath to hitch.

"Share a dance with me?"

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Your hands tremble as Eris slowly guides you to the middle of the room, all the faelights dimming on the walls. People sidestep around you, moving out of your way as though Eris is parting the sea itself.

The soft melody from the string quartet begins, a song you'd surely heard before. None of it calmed your nerves, especially as you peered toward the dais. Sure enough; both of his parents were watching the two of you.

"Hey, don't get nervous on me now." Eris offers a small smile, and you gulp down your nerves. He places your left hand on his shoulder, taking the other one in his own. His free hand snakes around your waist, splaying flat on your back as he draws you closer to him.

"Just, follow me." He steps to the side, beginning to move in time with the song. You follow, trying to calm the shakiness of your hand in his while he presses you against him.

A few counts in, you relax a little. Sure, you weren't High Fae, or maybe someone his father would choose for him -- but Eris chose you. You're the one here with him tonight, dancing in front of his family and his court as though you came as a package deal.

When you look up at him, you blush realizing he had already been focused on you. He chuckles, his fingers tracing up and down on the small of your back as he twirls the two of you around the dancing floor.

"I'm really glad you came tonight," he says lowly, his amber-flecked gaze intense as you can't help but stare back.

"Me too," you say. "I've never attended anything like this before."

He raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face.

"Well, you're quite the talented dancer for never being brought to a ball before," he releases your waist, spinning you in a slow circle and then pulling you back to him once more. You grin, a small laugh escaping your lips as the two of you are held close once more.

"I shouldn't be surprised, as you've grown up going to these things," you say, your gaze landing on his lips. "But, you're quite impressive as well."

Those lips tilt upward as the song comes to an end, the two of you simply gazing at the other. You don't notice the clearing made for the two of you, how every other fae had allowed the two of you into the spotlight of the room. You'd simply been too caught up in the moment with the handsome man before you-

Eris sighs, and you watch as his gaze zeroes in on the dais once more. Turning, you peek as well -- the High Lord is beckoning his son at once.

"I can wait for you-"

"He wants us both." Eris shakes his head, the muscles in his arms tightening as he slowly lets go of you.

"Oh," is all you can think to say. He takes your hand, once again making way to his father's throne. This time, he leads you with him.

"Father." Is all he says when the two of you approach, and you watch as the High Lord so much as flicks his gaze to you before offerring his son an unamused look. Eris bends at the waist, and you follow suit, curtsying low as you offer your respect.

"Eris," his father echoes, his hands folding across his chest. "How uncourtly of you to not introduce your mother and I to your... guest, this evening." You look to the Lady of Autumn, offering a small bow of your head. She smiles at you softly -- the most reaction you'd seen from her all night.

"My apologies." Eris says, and you can practically hear the sarcastic remarks he was making in his mind. He turns to you, a smile sppearing on his face when you meet his gaze.

"This is Y/N, you've heard me mention her before," he explains. "She is the woman who helps so much with... with Riley," he hesitates. You'd known his parents were not involved much in his personal life, mainly because of his father and how he has treated his own son. You couldn't say you blamed him.

"Y/N," Beron repeats, his beady gaze focusing on you. He reaches to take your hand in his, kissing the back of it in polite greeting. You force a smile, but can feel Eris' jaw tightening from where he stood beside you. "How nice to finally meet you."

His words are dripping with venom, but you respond with class nonetheless. "Likewise, High Lord."

He releases your hand, resting his own on the armrests of his throne. He looks to Eris again, his gaze wavering between the two of you.

"So nice to see my son bring a woman to one of these kinds of events again -- he'd been alone in attendance, of course, since he let that Day Court whore slip through his fingers." Your eyes widen at his careless use of the derogatory language, but he simply chuckles. Eris' fingers find yours, sliding through them and squeezing gently. His father doesn't miss the action, and is quite unpleased by it.

"Even if it means bringing the help with him." He sneers a horrible smile, and you feel your face flush at the comment. Your throat tightens, making swallowing painful as you try and surpress the forming emotions threatening to spill out.

"Father, please-"

"Now now, son. It's been a few years since Selene fled, whether it be your --" he pauses in throught. "...annoying, nature, or maybe she simply didn't enjoy your company." Eris sucks in a breath, releasing it slowly as though he's practiced this a million times.

Nonetheless, Beron continues. "Reguardless, I think it's time you remarry -- don't you?" Your eyes widen, your gaze dropping to the floor. Remarry? Surely Eris wouldn't agree to that.

"Father, I'm perfectly happy with-"

"With, what? Being alone? Leaving that poor child without a mother?" His father tutts, his hands flexing against the golden armrests.

"Could we talk about this, later?" Eris grits out. Your heart sinks as you feel both of his parent's eyes on you. Looking to the Lady of Autumn, she only offers you a sorrow-filled expression.

"We shall do just that." Beron promises. "Now, go. Enjoy the rest of the ball." He grins wickedly as though he didn't just insult everyone standing before him.

Eris turns, guiding you down the stairs of the dais when you hear Beron's voice from behind you.

"Lovely to meet you, Y/N!"

You only manage a small nod as your foot steps onto the floor. Then, you take off in a beeline for the exit.

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Your chest is heaving as you shove through the heavy entry doors to the palace, the cool night air chilly against your heated skin. You brace against one of the marbled columns in the entryway, a few hot tears finally breaking free and falling down your cheeks. In seconds, the doors open again, a familiar voice ringing out behind you.

"Y/N, please don't take what he said to heart-"

"Don't," you growl, your shoulders shaking as your emotions continue to rattle through you. The soft footsteps of his boots sound behind you, his quiet approach made known as his hand rests against your back.

"Love, I promise he's always like this-"

"Like what? Horrible?" Your eyes narrow as you turn to face him, his saddened expression evident when he sees the wet streams down your face. He reaches out, brushing a stray tear away.

"Pretty much," he mumbles, his other hand rubbing soothingly against your back. You continue to sob, soft sounds coming from you as Eris pulls you close to his chest.

In minutes, you feel his hands pushing you lightly against a cushiony surface. You follow his lead, sitting as you rub the water from your eyes. The familiar feeling of silk touches your fingers, and Eris moves for just a moment before the room is filled with heat.

His bedroom. He'd winnowed the two of you out of there, and right into his room.

"Eris-" You stutter, avoiding his gaze shamefully as he moves to sit beside you on the bed. "Y-you have to get back, your parents-"

"My parents can fuck off for now." He says, his hands reaching for you and pulling you close to him. He guides you to lie next to him, your head resting against his chest while his fingers stroke through your hair.

It's silent for a while, the only sounds from the fire crackling in the hearth and a few occasional sniffles as you work to regain your composure. When anyone finally speaks, it's him.

"I'm not going to remarry." He says, another few silent beats following his admission. Your heart breaks further, any hope of what you'd had before with the male shattering. He hugs you closer to him, his hands bracing around your smaller frame.

"I mean, I'm not remarrying just because of my father." He clarifies. You wipe your eyes with the back o your hand, pushing up on a elbow to look directly into his eyes.

"Eris... it doesn't seem like much of a choice-"

"It is," he cuts in. "It is my choice. I'm so sick of my father choosing what I do, and when, and who with. I won't allow it any longer." He frowns, pulling you down to lay with him again. Your fingers begin to play with one of the seams on his jacket, as your mind clears.

"Is that... what I was? Tonight?" You ask weakly. "Just, a way of defiance, to your father?" Eris sighs, tilting your chin to look up into his eyes. Though your face is red and puffy, he offers you a small smile.

"Never, my dear -- I had the choice in bringing someone with me this evening. And, I chose you. I wanted you there with me." You feel a spark of hope in your chest, amidst everything else you'd been feeling. He's quiet, waiting as you collect your thoughts.

Another single tear slips free, trailing down your cheek as you inch closer to him. He pulls you in, his mouth mere inches from yours as your voice comes out in a whisper.

"I choose you, too, Eris."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

[fingertipsmp3]

I love the sims 2 because it will completely wreck your shit right when you’re least expecting it

[nadvs]

hard to ignore (two-shot) (part one)

pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader

summary when you’re offered a job as a nanny, you can tell right away that you’ll grow fond of the little girl you’re taking care of. things are easy to manage until you realize you’re falling for her dad.

author’s note hugs to @nemesyaaa for sharing the idea of singledad!zach. i couldn’t stop writing (and the one-shot hit 15k words and became a two-shot… i love slowburn…) hurt and comfort. fluff. no smut. divider credit.

content warning parental abandonment

» masterlist

Zach is sure, without a doubt, that he has already lived the best day of his life.

The moment he held Ella in his arms was when the world bloomed into a color he didn’t know existed. Nothing could ever and would ever top that feeling.

He didn’t expect that before thirty, he’d already experience the worst day of his life, too. But he’s certain he has.

He was in a fog, a bad dream he kept trying to wake himself up from. He had stepped into the guest room to see a piece of paper on Jade’s bed and he knew before he even unfolded the letter that she was gone.

He read the last line of the letter over and over again. I can’t live like this anymore. Deep down, he always feared that she would give up on them. But not like this. And not this soon.

After Ella was born, bitterness permanently etched itself into Jade’s face. To her, the baby was always a mistake and Zach stopped being someone she loved and became nothing but the man she regretfully had a child with.

She became the antithesis of the girl he fell for. The love they’d once had was replaced with a cold distance. She started sleeping in the guest room. She ate her meals alone. She left the house as much as she could.

Still, he respected that she had learned to tolerate motherhood. While she didn’t love being a stay-at-home mom, he didn’t think she hated it.

But then she left. And if she could abandon them like this, four years in, not even having it in her to look into her little girl’s eyes to say goodbye, then that tolerance had a cruel end.

That’s why now, a month after her sudden departure, Zach is sitting in his living room, fingers curling the corner of the resume belonging to the woman scheduled to arrive in a few minutes.

Dishes clatter as his mother tidies up his kitchen. Normally, he’d feel guilty and nag her to sit down. But things aren’t normal and he’ll take all the help he can get. It’s been an uphill battle trying to pick up the pieces on his own.

His family drove in a few nights ago. They offered to visit as soon as he called with the news, but he didn’t want to put Ella through too much at once, so he waited a few weeks. Once he asked them to come, they dropped everything and set out for the four-hour car ride.

Ella’s playing in the backyard with her grandpa and aunt while Connie helps Zach run interviews. His team’s managers were understanding when he asked for time off, but Zach can’t be away forever. With his training and match schedule, he needs to find a nanny.

He’d rather not introduce a new person into her life, especially this soon, but it’s unavoidable. At least with a nanny, he can control that Ella will always be in the comfort of her home. A place she knows.

Moments like these, he wishes he hadn’t been drafted to a team a state away. If he’d stayed close to his hometown, Ella would see both sets of grandparents more often and he’d have dependable childcare until he figured out how to function as a single dad.

Zach looks over his shoulder through the window, swallowing the lump in his throat when he sees his daughter running circles around her grandpa in the morning sun. The chime of the doorbell throws him out of his trance.

Soft blue eyes meet yours when the door swings open. The stranger on the other side is tall and handsome and younger than you expected, his half-smile clouded by sorrow. You introduce yourself and he offers you a firm but gentle handshake.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m Zach. Come in.”

You trail him into the large house, mind already racing with the potential of it becoming your workplace. The agency had set up the interview. You don’t know much about the client, except that he has a four-year-old daughter and that he requested a nanny who’s adaptable to a changing schedule.

After meeting Ella’s grandmother, you settle on a couch and make small talk and answer their questions. You learn that Zach is a professional soccer player and that his work can be demanding and inconsistent, but with your apartment being close by, you assure him that you’re reliable and flexible.

By the end of the interview, the idea of a nanny doesn’t make Zach nearly as uneasy as it did an hour ago. You’re kind and experienced and knowledgeable and every time you see his little girl through the window, you smile in pure endearment.

Zach likes the idea of his daughter being around someone joyful. Jade grew to be so cold that Ella learned to go to her dad whenever she wanted to feel reassured and loved. It’s comforting to imagine her growing to like you, maybe even love you, and to be met with the same warmth she’s so full of.

The rest of the interviews go fine, but Zach has always operated on gut feelings and you’re a clear winner. His mom agrees.

────୨ৎ────

After an agency rep calls to tell you that you’ve been offered a trial period, you spend five days at the house getting to know Ella while Zach shadows to answer your questions. He’s friendly and helpful, but visibly tense.

The final afternoon, you’re playing with Ella in the living room when Zach’s phone rings. Ella rushes over to his side, asking if it’s her mommy calling. You notice the nervous way his jaw clenches when he kneels to the floor.

“It’s grandma,” he tells her, holding his phone out so the camera will capture them both.

You pretend you didn’t hear Ella's question. You know nothing about her mom and you wouldn’t dare risk crossing a boundary by asking.

Soon after the call, Ella’s drawing at the dining table while you and Zach periodically glance across the room to check on her from the kitchen. He’s been teaching you how he prepares Ella’s favorite foods. He likes that you write everything down, asking him for details down to exact measurements. If he wasn’t sure that you took the happiness of his daughter seriously before, he is now.

He already told the story to his family and to Jade’s parents and to his closest friends, but that was with people he knew well. People who could comfort him. He’s not sure how to share with you that she left, but he wants to hire you, and this is something you should be aware of.

After he slides a pan into the oven, he stands to face you, towering over you as he wipes his hands with a tea towel.

“You have the job if you want it,” Zach says quietly. You smile at him appreciatively. You weren’t feeling confident, considering how on edge he’s been, but you realize it must not have been you he was nervous about.

“Thank you,” you reply. “I do.”

He nods, looking down as he leans against the kitchen island, and says, “She starts kindergarten next fall. You’d be alright with part-time hours then?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Uh, you should know…” he says, turning his head to look over at his daughter, “her mom left. A little over a month ago. It was out of the blue.”

Your heart twists in pain at his words, at the agony that draws itself into his face.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, staring up at his profile. Zach blinks a few times, gazing at his daughter. You press your lips together, wishing you knew what to say.

“Ella didn’t get a goodbye,” he tells you. Neither did he, not a real one, but that’s irrelevant. “I told her that her mom chose to leave and I don’t know why she made that choice, but I’m not going anywhere. If she brings it up, please say the same.”

“I will,” you reply with an understanding nod, “and only if she mentions it first.”

“Thank you,” Zach says. “I’ll be honest with you. I really don’t want someone to leave her again. You are planning on staying as long as we need you, right? Even when the hours get shorter during the school year?”

He had that same note of desperation in his voice when he asked you about your commitment to the job during the interview, too.

“Yes,” you assure him. “I understand that she needs stability right now.”

Based on the way Zach’s eyes lower, you can tell he needs stability, too. His wife not only left him, but she left him with their child. You can’t imagine the hole that it dug in his heart.

“Thanks,” he says. He takes a breath. He wasn’t strong enough not to cry when he told Ella her mom was gone and he’ll always hate himself for it, but at least he kept his tears from falling this time.

“Do you want to ask her what she thinks about it?” you offer. “I can go put away her laundry to give you some privacy.”

Zach nods in agreement. And as he expected, when he asks his daughter if she’d like for you to hang around here more often after he goes back to work, she gives him an enthusiastic yes.

You’re purposely slow with the laundry to give them time. You come back into the kitchen to see Ella happily eating a freshly baked muffin and swinging her feet, smiling up at her father as he sits next to her at the dining table.

“My daddy said you’re gonna be here every day,” she says to you with a grin, overjoyed by the news.

“Not every day,” Zach corrects her gently. “But most days.”

“Try this!” Ella exclaims, stretching her arm out towards you, the muffin in her fist. The way you happily accept the food even though it’s reduced to smushed fragments in his child’s small hand makes Zach’s heart feel a little lighter.

“That’s delicious,” you say after you take a bite, settling at the table across from them.

Zach’s still getting used to having a woman around who’s so sweet to his child. Jade would hardly ever accept Ella’s offers to share her food, telling him that saying yes to everything would only raise a spoiled child.

“My daddy’s the bestest cook,” she proudly says.

“Best,” Zach corrects. “Thank you, honey.”

“He really is,” you reply. “I don’t know how I’ll fill his shoes, but I’ll try my best.”

Ella’s face pinches in confusion as she kneels over in her booster seat to look under the table.

“I think his shoes will be too big for you,” she mumbles, pointing to your feet. You laugh, meeting Zach’s gaze, seeing the first genuine smile on his face. You didn’t know he had dimples.

He can’t remember the last time he laughed, really laughed, with someone like this. Life’s dealt him a tough hand, but you’ve given him relief.

────୨ৎ────

Zach is organized. So organized that it sort of amazes you. Not only does he give you his, and in turn, your work schedule a month in advance through a color-coded calendar, but he also provides you with a meal plan for Ella so that you don’t have to worry about making one yourself.

The first day on your own with her is perfect. She’s energetic, well-behaved, and loves to talk. Zach left for training at noon and you were surprised that he found the time to text as much as he did. You replied to his every message asking for updates, sharing what you’re doing and reassuring him that Ella’s doing okay.

He gets home an hour after Ella’s bedtime. He’s been on edge all day, worrying that all this was too much, too fast for his little girl. Maybe he should have taken more time off.

You’re finishing up loading the dishwasher when you hear his keys jingling. You turn to greet him as he paces into the kitchen.

“Hey, how was bedtime?” he asks.

“We read three books and she asked me to stay with her until she fell asleep,” you tell him. “No issues.”

Zach sighs in relief. He never liked afternoon training because he missed bedtime. Ella preferred bedtime with her dad over with her mom. She preferred everything with her dad, really. But hearing that she wanted you to stay is reassuring.

“And she ate well?” he asks. He settles on one of the stools lining the kitchen counter, watching you cross the room to stand opposite him.

“Yes,” you tell him. “She was great.”

“Sorry if I was annoying with all the texts,” he says with a small, apologetic smile.

“You weren’t, but I wanted to let you know that it’s okay if you want to set up cameras. I know some parents like having live video they can tune into throughout the day.” You’d already noticed the security cameras outside when you first came to the house. You understand why he’d be so protective.

Zach threads his fingers through his dirty blond hair, damp from the shower he took in the training center’s locker room.

“Alright, I was definitely annoying if you’re offering to be surveilled,” he mumbles with a chuckle.

“No,” you laugh. “Ella did get a little frustrated, though. We were playing princesses and she said princesses aren’t supposed to go on their phones this much.”

Zach breathes a laugh. You’ve only been here for six days, but he hasn’t smiled this much in a long time.

“Thank you for all your work today,” he says. “I won’t keep you any longer.” You give him a bright smile and wish him a good night before you head out.

When Zach trudges upstairs, he peeks into Ella’s room. She’s sleeping peacefully, curled up with her favorite plushie. Now that he has a semblance of normalcy back in his life, he realizes that beneath the sadness and betrayal, he feels anger.

It’s not typical of him to feel angry. But Jade set everything ablaze when she abandoned them and he’s been left in the ashes, trying to stay level-headed while he’s choking on smoke.

He knows he lost Jade’s heart long ago. She lost his, too. It’s the fact that she broke their daughter’s without any hesitation – that’s what kills him.

────୨ৎ────

Zach never takes you up on the offer to have cameras installed. He starts to let go, little by little, eventually going a full day without sending a single check-in text. It’s gratifying to know you’ve earned his trust.

Before you know it, you’ve been Ella’s nanny for two months. She’s made herself a home in your heart. The only way you’d ever leave her is if you were told to, and you can’t even imagine being fired. Zach often checks in to see if you’re happy with your job and asks if there’s anything he can do to make things better. He clearly values you and doesn’t want to lose you.

It’s mid-morning when you’re playing with Ella on the living room floor and Zach comes through the front door. She rushes to him and you smile as you watch him drop his duffle bag and happily scoop his daughter up.

He had an away game last night and flew in early. His skin is blanched, dark half-circles under his eyes, but like always, he finds energy for his daughter. You admire it about him, how she’s never too much for him.

“There’s a plate for you in the kitchen,” you tell him when he meets your gaze.

“You don’t have to–”

“I know,” you say with a laugh. Zach has already told you many times that Ella’s the only one you have to feed, but you can tell he appreciates coming home to a meal. “There were leftovers.”

“Were there?” he asks, brows quirked, an unconvinced smirk on his lips.

You shrug and laugh again. You’ve grown into a friendly level of comfort with each other and you appreciate how you can joke around with him.

Zach sits in the dining room to eat, listening to Ella tell him all about her playdate yesterday. You tidy up the living room as you overhear her chat about how her friend was showing her ballet poses and how badly she wants lessons.

You’d sent Zach a courtesy text before you fell asleep in the guest room last night: We had a great day. She had a lot of fun on the playdate. Just so you’re prepared, she’s VERY into ballet now and is going to ask you if she can get lessons. Sending some options. Then, you sent him a few links to children’s dance classes in town.

You woke up to two texts from him. The first said: Appreciate the warning and the research. Am I crazy for holding on to hope that she’ll like soccer one day? You smiled at your screen. You’d briefly talked with Zach about how Ella has no interest in the sport her father dedicated his career to.

The second text from him, sent fifteen minutes later, read: Would you be alright with taking her to 6-6:45 pm classes on Wednesdays when I can’t? The season starts next week.

You replied when you woke up: Definitely.

You enter the dining room to see Ella hanging off her dad’s shoulders while he tries to eat, continuing to rattle on about how she’d never miss a lesson and would always listen in class.

“Alright, take a breath,” he chuckles. When he tells her you found her a class at a studio uptown and that he’ll enroll her if she’s sure she can commit, she squeals in delight. She hugs Zach, then runs over to hug you, too, nearly knocking you over.

“Easy,” her dad tells her. Ella asks you to turn on the ballet music playlist you found for her yesterday and launches into twirls across the living room.

“Remember what I said,” you tell her over the music. “If you start to get dizzy, you…?”

“Sit down, I know!” she shouts. You meet Zach’s eyes, both of you wearing smiles. You can see the fatigue on his face under the bright dining room light.

“Do you want me to stay another hour so you can catch up on sleep?” you offer. “I don’t mind.”

He knows his heart shouldn’t skip when he looks at you, but it does. He can’t help it. You don’t see this as a job you clock in and out of. You’ve integrated yourself into Ella’s life, into his life, so seamlessly. He doesn’t feel like you’re an employee here. You’re a friend who goes above and beyond to help. You’re someone who his daughter adores. You’re a beautiful person, inside and out.

He looks down at his plate, embarrassed, as if you can read his mind. His head has been doing this lately, rushing into thoughts of you that are much more than professional. He shouldn’t be thinking that his daughter’s nanny is beautiful.

“It’s okay,” he tells you. “You can head home. We’ll see you soon.”

You nod and call Ella over to look at the calendar Zach made. It’s a routine with her every time you leave. She likes knowing when you’ll be back.

When Zach heads upstairs to drop his things off into his bedroom, he stops when he passes the guest room. You left the door ajar. Even though you always keep it neat, only leaving an overnight bag on the nightstand, there’s a lived in feeling, a warmth in the room that never existed before.

Once again, he has to remind himself that you’re paid to be here. But it’s hard not to like you, because even when Jade was living here, he felt alone, whereas having you around makes it hard to ignore that life doesn’t feel all that empty anymore.

────୨ৎ────

“Which one’s yours?”

You look over to the man sitting next to you on the dance studio bleachers. Young girls hop and whirl over the glossy hardwood floor in a sea of pink tutus, five minutes into their lesson.

“Oh, I’m...” You point to Ella. “Her nanny.”

Ella’s been in ballet for a few weeks now and it’s all she talks about. Zach’s schedule allows him to take her to most of her classes, but this is the second one you’ve come to and you can see just how much she enjoys it.

You make small-talk with the man and a few other parents, which makes the time pass quickly. When you get back to the house, Ella scarfs down her dinner and falls asleep during the first book you read her. You’re sitting in the living room when Zach comes home from training.

He’s nearing playoff season and he’s mentioned that he has much more practices booked in his schedule. At this point, he welcomes how you always pretend to accidentally make too much food. He doesn’t expect you to prepare meals for him, but after you’d reassured him that you don’t mind since you’re cooking anyway, he’s relieved to know he’ll have dinner waiting for him tonight.

“Hey,” you greet him from your spot on the couch. “Ballet was the best idea ever. It really tires her out. Bedtime was a breeze.”

“Right?” Zach says with a smile, pulling off his jacket. You look away to avoid gaping at his biceps under his t-shirt. You thought he was good-looking the moment you met him and getting to know him has only made him more attractive.

“I’ve been wanting to ask if you’d like any help with her birthday,” you offer, turning the tv off and standing up. Ella’s fifth birthday is in a month.

“I have some ideas for her party that I’d like your opinion on,” Zach tells you. “Do you want to stay for a few minutes? Or I can just text you.”

“I can stay.”

He’s relieved to hear it. He doesn’t have many moments with you alone. Usually you’re like passing ships in the night, chatting for just a couple of minutes to catch each other up about Ella before one of you leaves the house, so any window of time with you is something he welcomes. Your presence is comforting.

You sit at the kitchen island together. Zach eats as you scroll through his phone, gazing at screenshots of party ideas he saved.

“Oh, she’d love this,” you say, stopping at a photo of ballerina-themed cupcakes. He gazes at you in awe as you look down at the screen. You’re genuinely delighted at the idea of giving his little girl a perfect birthday. “Do you want to have the party here?”

“Yeah, do you think that’s a good idea?” he asks.

“Yeah. If you’re worried about decorating or cleaning up, I’d come early and stay late,” you tell him, continuing to scroll. “She deserves something big.”

He nods, swallowing down his food, too distracted to go for another bite. He can’t wrap his head around how sweet you are. You have no connection to Ella at all, but you treat her like she’s yours. Sometimes more than her own mother did.

You’ve been here for nearly four months now, which in the grand scheme of things really isn’t that long, but he likes that you have such a deep sincerity to you that he can trust that you care about Ella. That you won’t leave.

You look up at him and he glances away, worried he’s been caught staring, clearing his throat.

“Do you know how many people you’re thinking of inviting?” you ask as you hand him back his phone.

Zach’s face falls as he scratches the back of his neck. You’re suddenly tense, the air of familiarity between you now thick and uncomfortable.

“I’m not sure,” he says.

“Sorry,” you say, nervous you crossed a line. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t,” he reassures you. “Sorry. I’ve just been going back and forth on whether I should invite her grandparents. From her mom’s side, I mean.”

“That must be hard,” you empathize.

“They’ve offered to visit a few times, but Ella hated the idea. She doesn’t even want to talk to them on the phone.”

“Was she like that before?” You don’t have to spell it out for him to know what you mean by before. The topic of Ella’s mom’s abandonment has been a silent cloud hanging over both of you.

“No,” Zach says. “I think she makes the connection that they’re her mom’s parents and she doesn’t want to be reminded of her.”

His lips close into a firm line.

“Well, I admire how you respect her comfort level and let her make decisions,” you say. “Maybe you start the conversation about who to invite and mention the grandparents to gauge her reaction?”

Zach nods, trying not to let his heart get carried away with the way it pounds from your words. He’s received compliments on his parenting from his friends and family, but you see the type of father he is more than anyone else these days. He cares about your opinion and it feels good to hear you approve.

“That’s a good idea,” he says. His fork clatters against his dish and he takes a deep breath before asking what’s been spinning in his head. “I figure you’d tell me, but… she hasn’t mentioned her mom, has she?”

You shake your head no. His forehead wrinkles in concern and it sends a pang to your chest. You lean a little closer, crossing the invisible boundary between you for the first time.

“She could just be processing,” you tell him. “And it might take her a while to talk about it. But she’s okay. She’s resilient. She got it from you.”

Zach hopes that he’s not blushing, but his cheeks are burning. He’s sure you’d be able to tell, but thankfully, you look down and stand straight again, as if what you just said wasn’t one of the most significantly unforgettable things he’s ever been told.

Ella is practically a physical copy of her mother. Zach never minded. But hearing that you think his daughter inherited his adaptability, one thing he’s always prided himself on, feels good.

He wasn’t very confident that he’s been doing a great job at adjusting since Jade left and you just lifted a weight off his shoulders without even realizing it.

“Thank you,” he says. You desperately want to ask how he’s been since his wife left, but you’re afraid you’ve already crossed a line with your boss tonight and you certainly don’t want to risk doing it again.

“Sure,” you reply. “I should go. But I’ll let you know if I think of any ideas for the party. I think the ballerina theme is the way to go. This place will be so pink.”

Zach laughs, trying to ignore the way his chest hollows when you expand the distance between you, stepping away.

“Can’t wait,” he says. “Thanks for dinner.”

“There were leftovers,” you reply, even though both of you are already well aware that every time you say that, it’s not true.

────୨ৎ────

It’s only half an hour into Ella’s birthday party and you’re spent. You’re reaching for napkins from the cupboard to clean up a spill in the dining room. When you turn out of the kitchen, a girl runs past you, tripping and accidentally pouring most of her juice onto your dress.

“Sorry,” she says worryingly, eyes wide as she stares up at you.

“It’s okay,” you reply with a giggle, dabbing at the fabric with one of the napkins. “I came prepared.”

Zach just entered the room, witnessing the moment, wondering if he’s ever going to see you do anything that won’t just push him deeper into his crush on you. But once again, his head is no match for his heart when it comes to you.

He’s been trying not to lose his mind today and it’s not because of the chaotic party that’s taken over his house. It’s because it’s the first time he’s seen you in a dress. While it’s appropriate for the occasion, it shows enough of your figure to make his mouth go dry.

You toss the napkin in the garbage, collect more, then start to make your way to the dining room, looking up to find Zach’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say over the noise. He realizes that your voice somehow settles his pulse and makes it race at the same time. “There might not be enough napkins in the world for this party.”

“Invite everyone she wants,” he teases, imitating the way you convinced him to go along with Ella’s idea to invite all twelve kids from her ballet class.

“I take it back,” you chuckle. When you move past him, the fresh scent of his cologne dances over you and it’s so nice that you don’t want to leave his side. But you shake away the thought and tidy up the spill, then head to the living room to mingle.

It’s better to keep your distance from Zach. You have to remind yourself of it almost every day now. You’d been spending more time together to plan Ella’s party and at this point, it’s actually frustrating how kind and funny and charming and perfect he is.

It took a few evenings of party-planning at the house, your voices low as Ella slept upstairs, to start to get to know each other outside of your job. You’ve learned little things about him, like that he’s left-handed, and that he has a sister ten years younger than him and growing up with her helped him practice parenting, and that he likes a cup of tea before bed because it relaxes him.

You also noticed that he drifts into a more timid version of himself whenever the topic of his profession comes up. You’d mentioned that Ella could eventually grow an interest in soccer, that you’d take her to one of his home games if she wanted, and he nodded with a shy smile, saying he liked the idea.

Every side of him is intriguing, and while your conversations haven’t fallen into anything too personal, you want to know more about him past the friendly distance that stands between you.

Ella quickly darts past Zach in the kitchen and he reminds her that tag is an outside game. He’s relieved that she seems happy and careless today.

He’d asked her about inviting her mom’s parents and she answered with a quiet no. He called them to tell them that this birthday would be too difficult to celebrate together and they understood, opting to send a present in the mail.

Zach is glad he took your advice. As he rounds the corner, he sees you chatting with Ella’s friend’s dad. You probably know him from ballet. Zach has spoken with him, too. He knows the man is divorced.

Jealousy swirls in his chest. He shouldn’t care about you talking to another man. Even though you’ve started to share more about your lives with each other and he’s pretty sure you’re single, you could have a boyfriend you haven’t mentioned.

Again, while he tells himself not to feel things for you, it’s so much easier said than done. He has to look away, wondering why he feels like someone who’s not even his is being taken from him.

All the stress leaves your body the minute the last attendee leaves through the front door. It was a great party, but it was exhausting.

Ella’s eating her dinner as you, Zach, and his family tackle the mess. You make conversation with her while you clean the kitchen, happy to hear her rave about what a good birthday she had.

She asks if you can cuddle her for bedtime. Zach overhears and trudges into the kitchen, crumpled decorations in his hands. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and you try to ignore the fact that the mere sight of his forearms makes your stomach go numb with butterflies.

“It’s been a long day,” he says to you quietly. “I can take bedtime.”

“I got it,” you reply. He mirrors your smile. You like that he’s not the type of parent to be bitter that his own kid prefers you sometimes. He’s just happy that Ella’s happy.

When you’re leaning back in Ella’s bed, chatting as you wait for her to doze off, her arm is draped over your body and her cheek is on your shoulder. She’s grown to be totally comfortable with you, always taking the opportunity to be affectionate.

Your eyelids are heavy as you ramble about what she’ll be doing with her grandparents and aunt in the next few days, as they’ll be staying in town for a bit. Zach gave you the next three days off since childcare will be covered.

“I heard your grandma say something about taking you to the beach tomorrow,” you tell her. “Are you excited?”

“Will you come, too?” she asks. You chuckle softly, kissing the top of her head.

“I have work, remember?” you tell her. You and Zach had decided long ago that you don’t want to tell her you’re paid to be here, that your job is taking care of her. You always just refer to yourself as her dad’s friend.

“Okay,” she sighs. She lets out a big yawn. “If I tell someone my birthday wish, will it not become true anymore?”

“I’m pretty sure the rule is that you can tell one grown-up,” you play along, “and it’ll still come true.” She nuzzles in. You assume she’ll mention a gift she wanted but didn’t receive today.

“I wished that you were my mommy,” she mumbles into the dark.

Your throat tightens and your heart sinks and you hate that the sweet, innocent child clinging onto you has to carry the weight of being abandoned. You kiss the top of her head again and try not to cry.

“I love you, okay?” you tell her. She nods and squeezes you tighter and within minutes, her breathing grows deeper.

When you head downstairs, you see that almost all of the mess has been tidied up. Zach is hauling a full garbage bag to the front door, giving you a tired smile when he sees you.

“Do you need any help with–”

“Go home,” he interrupts, faking irritation. You laugh in defeat.

“Fine.” You step into the living room to say goodbye to his family, antsy to have some time to yourself so that you don’t have to force down your tears any longer.

A few seconds after the door shuts behind you, Zach remembers that he’d set aside a container of leftover treats from the party for you.

You pace down the sidewalk into the cool evening air, unlocking your car remotely, unable to stop your tears from building. When you hear Zach call your name, you quickly wipe at your eyes, realizing you’ve smudged your make-up.

“There were leftovers,” he says when you turn to look at him.

“That’s my line,” you try to joke. You take the container. “Thanks.”

He notices the shine in your eyes immediately.

“Are you alright?” Zach asks softly. You gaze up at him, heart breaking a little more at the concern in his expression.

“Just a busy day,” you tell him.

“Did something happen?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Or– yeah, but I was going to tell you later. Without the tears.” You offer a pathetic laugh to break the tension, but he’s too worried to laugh, too.

“What is it?” he asks.

You look up to Ella’s bedroom window. The first time you’d walked up to this house, you were oblivious to the fact that the two people living in it would steal your heart. You know you need to tell him what his daughter said. But you’d hoped you’d have more time to process it.

“Before bed,” you say, your voice thin, “she told me she wished I was her mom.”

It takes all the air out of Zach’s lungs. He opens his mouth to reply, but he’s without words. He crosses his arms, looking down at the pavement.

“I know. It’s a lot,” you mumble. Your temples ache as more tears build up, frustrated that this is Zach and Ella’s reality. “It just makes me so sad. I don’t want to say anything bad about your ex-wife, but I don’t understand how she could just leave you two. Has she not called to check in on her? Or to wish her a happy birthday?”

Your heart starts to thrum even harder. Your words were impulsive, surprising you even though you’re the one who said them, and the fear that you just crossed a line and exposed your feelings for him rushes through you.

“No,” is all Zach is able to say. He stares at you, speechless, biting the inside of his cheek.

“When Ella said… what she said, I told her that I love her,” you say. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” he says, his tone tender. Your lips twist into a sad smile. You want to hug him. But you step back. Because he’s still your boss and you don’t want him to think you can’t remain professional. You’re already anxious and regretful that you brought up Ella’s mom.

“Thank you,” you say. “I should go. Good night.”

Zach’s dazed the rest of the evening. He watches you drive off. He goes back inside to finish cleaning up. He spends time with his parents and sister, but soon heads upstairs to sleep, too distracted to keep up conversation.

His mind keeps him awake as he lies in bed. He stares up at the darkened ceiling, watching the shadow of the trees by his window rustle in the wind. In a matter of a minute, your relationship reached a new level of vulnerability.

And now that he has time to wade through his feelings, beneath the pain he feels for Ella and what she told you, he can’t deny that his heart fluttered when you said you don’t understand how someone could leave him and his daughter. Maybe you feel the same way about him.

This is not just a crush. He’s falling for you.

────୨ৎ────

You stare at the text Zach sent you a few minutes ago as you brush your teeth the next morning.

Sorry for bothering you on your day off but Ella has asked me about 50 times (give or take) if I can ask you to come to the beach today. I told her you’re busy but you know her. No pressure but we’d all love to have you. Would count as a work day, of course.

It was already hard to keep your feelings for Zach at bay when all you can think about is his smile and his voice and the way he makes you feel more comfortable than any man ever has, but now, you’re afraid it might be awkward when you see him. You’d said something so heavy last night, then left abruptly.

Nonetheless, the love you have for Ella and the love you’re starting to have for Zach is louder than the worry you’re feeling.

You reply: Don’t count it as work. It’s how I’d like to spend my day off. When and where?

A minute later, he sends you the address and time.

It’s late morning when you text Zach that you’ve arrived at the beach. He heads to the parking lot, leaving his parents, sister, and daughter by the shoreline so that he can speak to you alone. He hates that he was too in shock to thank you last night. But it was all so much to take in.

He spots you pulling a bag out of your trunk, greeting you with a soft “hey” to not startle you. It’s so nice to know that you’re here because you want to be.

You turn to see Zach in his swim shorts, his hair wet, water droplets scattered atop his muscles. You close the trunk, hoping he didn’t catch the way your eyes lingered.

“Hey. What’d you tell Ella about the ‘work’ I had today?” you ask, trying to establish a lighthearted tone. “Did my boss let me leave early?”

“We can say that,” he says with a smile. “He sounds like a good guy.”

“He is. It’s my other boss that’s kind of a nightmare,” you joke.

Zach takes you in, squinting a bit.

“You don’t really think of me as your boss, do you?” he asks, realizing he hates the implication. It makes him feel like even thinking about you as more than a friend is deeply unethical. Like there’s a power imbalance and he’s taking advantage of it somehow.

You still for a moment.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckle. “It doesn’t feel like it, but aren’t you?”

“I guess.” His brows furrow. “It just doesn’t sound right.”

“How about we say… Ella’s my boss? And yours, too, now that I think about it.”

Zach laughs, “That works for me.” He nervously crosses his arms. “Uh… before we go, I wanted to thank you for handling last night so well. I think you said exactly what she needed to hear.”

Your face drops slightly. Remembering the way Ella sounded when she told you her wish, resigned but hopeful, breaks your heart every time you think about it.

“Of course,” you say. It’s a relief that he’s not upset about anything you said. “Is she doing okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Being her usual self. I didn’t tell her you were coming, so she’ll be excited.” The way you smile at the idea of making her happy is something he’s grown to adore about you.

You make your way to the shoreline, and as expected, Ella squeals when she sees you, running straight for you. You crouch to hug her tightly, thrilled that you were invited today.

You sit on a line of towels with Zach and his parents and his sister while Ella explains to you what kind of sandcastle she wants to make. You make conversation with everyone over the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and eventually, you point out a small rubber ball by the cooler.

“You wanna play soccer?” you ask Ella.

“I’m not good at it,” she replies.

“You have the best coach right here,” you say, pointing to Zach. “Let’s give it a try. Maybe we can all work together to score a goal against your dad.”

Zach smiles in surprise when Ella actually agrees. You help him create a makeshift goal line with pebbles and shells as Ella kicks the ball over the sand with her grandparents and aunt. After you set up, you join Ella while Zach makes an exaggerated show of stretching.

“Is that how you always warm up?” you ask him.

“Is there something wrong with it?” he answers. Ella laughs as he dramatically stretches. By now, you can tell by the type of dad he is that he was always on the playful side.

Ella imitates his stretching, then determination flashes over her face and she darts forward to try to kick the ball past him without warning. Zach pretends to be too slow to react, reaching after the ball has already whizzed past him, and lets out a defeated groan.

He picks his daughter up as she jumps in victory, jokingly demanding she tell him when she got so good at soccer. You smile as you watch them share a moment of joy in the sun.

“Ella, would you ever want to go to one of your dad’s games?” you offer.

“Yeah!” she exclaims.

“Yeah?” Zach says. “Why don’t you say yeah whenever I ask?”

“Just take the win, Zach,” you say with a laugh. He grins, loving the way his name sounds when it comes from you.

You enjoy the rest of the afternoon, talking with Zach’s family, playing with Ella, catching glances at Zach when he’s not looking. They invite you to dinner, but you politely decline, figuring you should give them time alone. You thank them for the fun and go home feeling lighter than you did when you woke up.

That evening, as Connie helps Zach clean up after dinner, she mentions how good you are for Ella. He glances down at his mom as she hands him a rinsed plate to put in the dishwasher.

“She really is,” Zach agrees.

“I think she’s good for you, too,” she says with a hint of a smile.

“Real subtle, Mom,” he chuckles nervously. “It’s not like that.”

“Alright,” she says with an unconvinced tone. She takes a beat. “I just need to say–”

“Of course you do,” he mumbles with an amused smirk.

“–that I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time,” she speaks over him. “I haven’t seen you be you. But you are again, especially when she’s around. It’s just nice to see you smiling so much again. I know things have been tough for you.”

Zach’s teeth dig into his bottom lip. His mom is right; things have been tough, even before Jade left. He desperately wanted companionship, to at least come home to someone he could call a friend, but Jade couldn’t give him what he needed. He hasn’t felt full of life in a long time. Not until you knocked on his door.

“I’m better now,” he says.

Connie nods, sadness filling her features as she pulls Zach in for a side-hug.

“Hey, I’m alright,” he consoles her. “Don't worry about me.”

“You’re a parent. You should know the worrying never stops.” She pulls back. “So, you’re really going to deny it? I see the way you look at her.”

Zach shakes his head with an exaggerated scoff.

“You’re relentless,” he jokes.

“You used to tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Alright,” she sighs. “She looks at you the same way, you know.”

“Mom.”

Connie laughs and hands him another plate. He knows that the idea of you looking at him the way he looks at you won’t leave his mind any time soon.

(part two)

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Mz. Bitch's Masterlist

Started: 2/24/24 Last updated: 11/18/24

Due to inline link limits, please click on the story name to start reading and follow the chapter links. Thanks little darlings! Love y'all!

MARVEL

Bucky Barnes *One shots Sex Pollen My Alpha Got Nothing On You Part 2 Movie Night Please Come Back Vibranium & Stainless Steel Shy Dream Girl A little help from my friend Angry baby? Throw It in the Dishwasher Part 2 The Boss Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 I.T. Time to Heal A Very Cutesy, Very Demure Halloween Regrets & Apologies Quite a Workout Part 2 Overheard Oh Sister Let's Go Down Little Sea Storm *Series Breaking the Class Ceiling **Finished Bucky Barnes is a middle class clerk. He needs to marry well to take care of himself and his father. Y/N Y/L/N is the heir to a millionaire fortune, who is blunt, no-nonsense, flirtatious, and looking for a partner. Everyone is vying for her hand. Can Bucky ever win? Pretty Pointy Smile **Finished Bucky was born different, and has been judged for it ever since.  His father has had enough and sells him to the circus.  The acceptance and love of his newfound family, and the beautifully fierce ringmaster, help him realize he’s not the monster everyone else made him out to be. Sugar Mama **Finished Bucky is overworked and struggling to get by.  The bills are piling up and he’s consistently in the red with no end in sight.  Y/N is a billionaire’s daughter, entrepreneur and philanthropist having a hard time finding true friends or love.  She has a proposition for him. Marriage of Convenience **Finished Y/N’s father is gone, and he leaves it all to her.  But in 1880s Oregon, she can’t own land without a husband.  Under the threat of it all being taken away by a land hungry Sheriff, what’s a girl to do with no prospects?  Maybe one of the cowboys on the farm can help… The Temptation **Finished Father Barnes is devout, steadfast, and undeterred by flirtatious congregants.  So why does this fallen angel tempt him so?  You cannot serve two masters.  Will he choose God, or his heart? Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons **Finished Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of.  A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has.  Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way? Stranded **Finished Tossed overboard and lost at sea, Bucky washes up on an uninhabited island.  Injured, lost and scared, with little to no wilderness training, he fights to survive.  But is he really alone? The Fuck Up **Finished Bucky fucked up.  A few times.  Will his best friend ever be able to forgive him?

Naughty Nanny **Finished Bucky had a lovechild from a one night stand.  He barely even remembered it, and was surprised to find a baby on his doorstep 9 months later.  But one look at that little girl and he knew she was his and that he’d die for her.  The only problem was, he knew nothing about babies, and being an Avenger meant he couldn’t just drop everything and be a dad full time.  Then he found the perfect nanny…or so he thought. Run, pretty girl, run **Finished Even with the safeguards put in place after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., the remaining Avengers find themselves on the run after the American government falls into disarray.  The code word is sent, and they’re officially fugitives.  Bucky makes a run for the safe house set up for emergencies like this where the Avengers are told to meet up, but on the way saves the pregnant agent turned payroll specialist that he was partnered with.  Will they make it before she goes into labor?  Or at all?

Pretty P.A. **Finished Y/N has been the personal assistant to the most influential and famous fashion model agency director in the industry for the past 13 years.  They’ve decided to retire, and are leaving the agency in the hands of their protege and former model, Bucky Barnes.  He seems plenty qualified, and Y/N is excited for a chance to work with him.  Change always takes time,  but the new insanely hot boss is distrustful and hesitant towards her.  The Gorgon **Finished The village nearest the mountain by the sea has a generations-old tradition of offering sacrifices to the monster in the mountain to gain favor and keep its wrath away from the people.  Every person starting from the age of 15 has to take a turn in making the journey up the mountain to the mouth of the cave once a year to drop off the gifts…and it’s a journey that some never come back from.  Y/N took her turn when she was 15, and now the rotation has come back to her again.  If the gift isn’t given by the autumn solstice, there’s no telling what harm the creature will wreak onto the people.  With a seemingly insurmountable obstacle in her way, will she make it to save her and her people?  Can a monster have a heart? Dreamboat **Finished Y/N, her brother Steve, and his best friend Bucky all moved out West for a new start after Y/N was almost caught up and hurt in a rival gang fight.  Steve wasn’t in shape to fight in the war, but Bucky was drafted.  While out West, Y/N finds herself in trouble again from the local bar owner.  Steve is suddenly drafted for an experimental division of the army, but leaving Y/N alone isn’t an option.  Bucky comes home needing help, and Steve comes up with a crazy compromise.  Sweet Pumpkin **Finished Bucky is struggling with the dating world and knows that if he ever hopes to have a serious relationship, that he needs to get through his touch deprivation issues.  It’s not that he doesn’t want to touch people, or them to touch him, but after decades of pain he doesn’t know how to accept physical intimacy from others, or how to give it himself.  He hires Y/N, an intimacy coach and professional cuddler, who comes highly recommended.  Will his heart be able to distinguish between a service given versus real love?

Yes Mama **Finished Bucky Barnes has made quite the name for himself in the underground mob boss world.  But he’s not the boss.  Just the face of the Family. 

A Pirate's Life for Me **Finished Captain Bucky Barnes and his crew on the Armored Star are the most fearsome pirates in the known world.  They’ve given the British fleet a run for their money as they try to free the enslaved and take from the rich, but they could have never guessed how the British empire would retaliate against them.  When a new pirate ship appears and lays waste to all in its path, will Bucky and his crew be ready for the wrath of a woman scorned?

The Witch and The Doctor **Finished Bucky thought he could make a difference, getting a medical license and trying to change people’s minds.  But the 1600s New World is a harsh place with cruel people.  After being accused of witchcraft he makes a run for it, facing the dangers of the woods and the rumored witch that lives within them.

Peter Parker *One shots Emotional *Short Series Tasty **Finished Peter just wanted to have one night of fun.  Then that night of fun almost killed him.  Now it won’t stop haunting him.  And he’s loving it. 

*Series The Young Duke **Finished Queen Y/N is running out of time.  At 35 years old she has to marry and make an heir to the throne, but all suitors so far have been unsatisfactory in one way or another.  Duke Peter Parker is the young Duke of Queensland, and his family is on the brink of ruin due to his parents’ failures and famines throughout the years.  He needs to find an advantageous marriage to save his family’s estate, so when an invitation from the Crown comes, he jumps at the opportunity.  Will it be a match?

Steve Rogers *Oneshot Sex Pollen

*Series My Queen **Finished Steve Rogers is the newly inherited Duke of Brooklyn, struggling to fix the mistakes of his parents while enduring an overbearing, matchmaking mother.  He has no intention of anything romantic in his future, but will a forced love connection with the Queen change his mind?

Fortuna Major **WIP Steve Rogers came home from World War II shell shocked and overwhelmed by the place he once called home.  After losing his mother he and his injured best friend Bucky decide to find a quieter, slower way of life to heal from the war.  They head out west until they hit Fortuna, California, and get jobs in the lumber industry.  Steve comes across a local lodging for miners and lumber workers, and falls head over heels for the female owner who takes no man’s shit. 

Stucky *Oneshot Three's Company

*Series Emerald Hallow **Finished Steve Rogers wants to move on.  He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century.  But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas.  He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good. And he's not the only one who smells it...

Actors

Sebastian Stan *Series A Patient Man **Finished Sebastian swore to never fall for another co-star again. Until Y/N drops into his life.

[1d1195]

Honey VII

Read Honey here | ~6.2k words

From me: I just want Harry to be jealous literally all the time. I'm sorry that's so toxic. I know Cece has aged like two months in a very short frame. But we're gonna slow time down a little. Only a few days are passing (if any) right now.

Warnings: angst - some more Miss Honey trauma, pining (both parties), fluff and some MORE angst

Summary: “Say bye, bye Daddy,” she whispered to her and kissed the top of her head. “Say bye, bye,” she repeated. Cece just giggled making her heart fill to the brim with love.

“Bye Miss Honey,” he hummed and hung up. “Well, Cece,” she turned the little one toward her and held her out in front of her before bringing her close. “I don’t know about you, but I think Daddy needs a pick-me-up."

It was incredibly awkward for the next three days.

The weather was still crummy. The power continued to go out at random intervals. Harry had been working nonstop, coming home to see his baby before she went to bed but then getting right back to work in his home office. His goal was to make it so that when he took his leave, he wouldn’t have to do anything extra outside of the days he was going to go in. He decided he would have to go to work two days a week. Which days were best was still something he was figuring out.

Regardless, Miss Honey was leaving for the first two weeks of his leave, in which he would have uninterrupted Cece time. While that was grand, he was already dreading the days without her around as well.

He hoped the days he was home with her and Miss Cece were the days he was going to make her fall in love. Make him trust her. Make her believe that he loved her for her and not what she did.

How the fuck was he going to do that?

The awkwardness was most palpable when he got home from work. Mostly because she didn’t change a single thing about her routine. Dinner smelled delicious. The house was always clean, his laundry was folded. He found Cece and her giggling on the floor as they played with her toys.

All he wanted to do was kiss her and thank her for doing those things and being herself.

Then he wanted to strip her in the middle of the kitchen and enjoy her body like it was a meal she prepared especially for him.

But instead, he gave her space. He didn’t beg her to sit around and watch TV with him. She went to the basement and ran on the treadmill. When the pipes whined from her shower, Harry wondered if it was normal for him to be jealous of a shampoo bottle that got to see her naked form. Instead, he thanked her for dinner and asked how her day was. He tried not to think about how pretty she looked coming on his couch and how her smile made him feel like he had won a trophy.

They didn’t talk about their night together.

Even though it was just about the only thing he thought about when he was alone and not actively worrying about Cece. It was definitely the only thing he had been dreaming about.

Hopefully, when he took his leave, and she returned from her trip he could convince her that this wasn’t some one-off. This was something he was very serious about.

*

Having sex with Harry was simultaneously the most wonderful thing she had ever experienced and also the dumbest thing she had ever done.

Whoever settled down with him was a lucky lady. She already envied the blissful feeling that woman would experience probably on the daily. It made his heart skip a beat. She was an idiot, fucking her boss. Who did that?

When she woke up holding the little baby that she loved wrapped in the arms of a man who made her feel... good and cared for... All the thoughts of her first nanny family came rushing back. It terrified her and made her spiral. This was almost worse in some ways. At least last time she wasn’t painfully aware of how attractive her boss was.

Harry was right, she didn’t talk to her best friend very often. But Eliza was a busy woman, and this was an idiotic thing to do. It seemed silly to bother her when she didn’t even know what she was doing. But she texted her anyway. It was probably a phone call worthy conversation, but she wasn’t sure she could have it without giving up part way through.

I slept with Harry🤦‍♀️

OBSESSED WITH JUMPING RIGHT TO THE GOOD PART.

NICE 😍

Eliza. Seriously.

Was it good?

Oh who am I kidding, I’ve seen pics of him of course it was good. Wow I’m getting tingly for you.

E L I Z A

I’m just want to make sure I understand. He’s hot as fuck, babe. Good for you.

No. Not good. That was stupid. I just complicated my career.

Did you force him?

No of course not!

So what are you worried about? You OBVIOUSLY like him

...Tell me it’s not obvious please.

I mean... It’s obvious to me. But that’s only because he’s so goddamn hot

You are supposed to be helping me!

I AM helping you

Do you think he didn’t like it or something?

Oh, sweet Jesus. She hadn’t even thought of that. I think I have to end it.

What your job?

No my life 😭

Oh, for the love of God 🙄 You’re a grown woman and you slept with your boss. So has almost a third of the country has too.

Not helping.

Her phone rang with a FaceTime call. Eliza looked like she was at her house. Hopefully alone. She didn’t need her husband knowing all the details of her epic fuck up. “What do you want out of this?” She asked. Eliza was her extraverted, bold, wonderful friend. She was the one that dragged her to parties and was the dad-friend to their group. They were a team, and it was nice to have her. She got right to the point. Hence her congratulatory text. She perched the phone on the floor, resting it against the bottom of the entertainment center while Cece rolled on the floor. “Oh hello,” Eliza cooed. “Cece, you are so precious,” her face looked on with adoration a faux frown pulling her lips down.

She smiled proudly, unable to keep it in. Like Cece was hers which only made things worse. It was like her first nanny family but worse. Maybe it was because her second family didn’t have little babies, just children. She had been with Cece for extremely formative months, helping the little baby discover the world. The last time she was around a baby for these formative months, she became too attached. What if something happened down the line where she and Harry were something and then weren’t? It wasn’t like last time.

Her whole life was wrapped up in Cece and it had been hardly any time at all.

“Eliza,” she whispered, her throat catching on her name as tears overwhelmed her. “I love Cece. So much.”

“So tell Harry,” she said softly. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you on FaceTime, he adores you.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “What if...”

“It’s not like last time,” Eliza finished already knowing where her spiral was going. She swallowed and looked away from the screen locking eyes with the sweet baby who babbled nonsense and giggled about her feet. “Babe?” She asked. “It’s not like last time. You know that, right? Harry appreciates your opinion. He wants you there. He is kind and thankful to have you. He wants you there. But he wants to be there too.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“He would let you love her completely.”

“If her mom was alive,” she whispered.

“Then you wouldn’t have met him, okay? Don’t... don’t do that. This is different. This is something good that you deserve. You love Cece. You love Harry. And quite frankly? You were going to love whatever baby was lucky enough to have you in their life so it may as well be Harry. I get why you got so worked up over Tucker,” she said. She flinched hearing his name. Her sweet little friend. “This is different. You’re lucky, of course. Harry adores you. You could have this. It wouldn’t be selfish. He’s nothing like Cody thank fuck.”

She smirked and watched Cece she rolled onto her tummy and then pushed herself towards her. “Cece!” She shrieked.

“What?!” Eliza asked, alarm falling over her face.

“She crawled!” She gasped. “Oh, my goodness, Eliza, I have to call Harry, I’m sorry!”

She didn’t even say goodbye before she hung up and called Harry. She never called him so she should have realized he probably would have answered immediately—worry etched on his perfect features. “Hi, love is every—”

“C’mere Cece! Show Daddy what you just did!” She cooed and held the phone out at Cece’s eye level turning so it was in a selfie position pointed at her. Cece scooted toward her (and Harry) again and her hand went to her throat.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Harry praised. “Look at you, baby,” his voice was so soft and happy. “No solid food, but you’re going t’crawl, hmm? Jus’ determined t’make me sad with y’growing up,” his voice was a little forlorn. But he was happy and proud. She was glad she couldn’t see him, she would probably cry. She wiped the corner of her eye, as it was. Cece giggled rolling onto her back as she got close to the phone.  Harry chuckled. “Thank you, love. That was really nice t’see,” she turned the phone back to her. When she answered she didn’t see Harry’s face. He was in his office, the sunlight hitting his face and hair so perfectly. His dimple and smile made her melt. The adoration was plain on his face. “M’not having a very good day,” he admitted. “I was nervous t’see y’calling. But that was... that was really nice.”

She grinned shyly. “Of course. I wanted you to see it.”

“Thank you,” he repeated. “I think m’going t’be late,” his beautiful smile turned into an exhausted, frustrated frown. “Y’don’t have t’leave any food out or anything,” he said. “I’ll order something here later,” he assured her.

But she knew he would forget. Because she texted Niall to make sure he ate lunch or dinner or whatever you called the half-assed meal he sometimes ate between lunch and dinner time. Most days Niall said he didn’t. “If you’re sure,” she said quietly. “I don’t mind.”

“I know, kitten,” he had been using kitten now that he had made her come three times in one night. It made her heart flutter. Made her feel flushed and happy. “Thank you,” he hummed. “If...if you go t’bed before I get home, I hope y’have a nice night and sleep well.” Her heart felt achy knowing he was having a bad day. “Can y’show me Cece again? I want t’say goodnight t’her,” he smiled, unaffected by his bad day with the thought of his sweet girl. She scooped up the little babe into her arms who was crawling into her lap at that point without her even noticing in because she was so focused on Harry’s worry.

“Good night, my love,” he smiled. “I love you so, so much. Be good for Miss Honey,” he winked and waved at her.

“Say bye, bye Daddy,” she whispered to her and kissed the top of her head. “Say bye, bye,” she repeated. Cece just giggled making her heart fill to the brim with love.

“Bye Miss Honey,” he hummed and hung up.

“Well, Cece,” she turned the little one toward her and held her out in front of her before bringing her close. “I don’t know about you, but I think Daddy needs a pick-me-up,” she stood from the floor and headed for Cece’s room to get her belongings and change her before she attempted to make Harry’s day better.

*

Niall invited himself into Harry’s office while he was eating lunch. His sticky note with his name and a heart in her handwriting was pressed on the collar of his shirt like a badge of honor. “Hey,” he smiled. Harry’s eyes narrowed at the thoughtfulness of her sending lunch to Niall. He hated that they chatted. Hated that she laughed at his text messages.

Because Harry was jealous. Extremely, completely jealous and felt it was unfair she could talk so breezily with Niall and walked on eggshells around him. “She doesn’t like me,” Harry grumbled and continued looking through the documents on his desk and all the meetings and schedules.

“I doubt that’s true.”

“Oh?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “You and your new best friend talk ‘bout me?” Curiosity was in his voice but so was his unwavering envy.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” Niall grinned. “Are you jealous of her or me?” He asked. Harry kept his eyes on his work again. “Don’t worry Harry, I’ll always be your best friend.”

“If you caught on fire, I wouldn’t help,” he grumbled.

Niall put a hand over his heart. “So sweet,” he smiled. “Why do you think she doesn’t like you?”

Harry sighed and ran a hand over his face and glanced at his open door behind him. Niall shut it with a kick of his foot and then sat in the chair across from Harry. Then Harry began pacing. Running a hand through his hair as he explained all the sweet things she did and the power outage (he mentioned but glossed over the things he did to her body). Niall didn’t even flinch. Unsurprised and simply kept eating his meal. When Harry finished rambling, he smiled, delight in his eyes. Then his expression softened at his friend. Because the teasing, while hilarious, wasn’t so funny at the moment. Harry didn’t just like her. He didn’t just enjoy her personality or even her body.

“You love her.”

Harry dropped to his own chair and laid his head on his desk ignoring what Niall said. He couldn’t love her already. Right? But maybe Niall, with an outside view, knew more than he did. “Niall, she’s gorgeous, funny, sweet, and she’s probably the smartest person I know,” he swallowed. “How can she think I only like her for the stuff she does?” he asked.

“Maybe because that’s all anyone has loved her for in her mind?” Harry frowned knowing that he was probably right about that too. She said just as much. “Do you love her for only the stuff she does?”

“Of course not!” Harry grumbled. He frowned and ignored the fact that Niall said love again. “S’kind she cares so much. She doesn’t want t’be noticed; s’not t’say she’s helpful. She just is. But it’s the only thing I notice. Maybe people only loved her in the past because of the things she did but I love why she does it,” he didn’t even pause to think about the L-word. “She jus’ genuinely loves the people in her life. S’probably her love language or something,” he shrugged.

Harry and Niall talked about a lot of stuff together. They discussed their business, golfing techniques, music, new restaurants, girls, and sex. They gushed about their families and even video games.

Talking about how he felt about someone so lovely was new to Harry. He had been in love before—or so he thought. This was different. She was different. Niall could see it. It wasn’t anything in particular. It was just her.

Harry swallowed. “She probably thinks she’s convenient,” he murmured.

“I mean...” Niall shrugged. “She is, isn’t she?”

Harry scowled. “Whose side are y’on? You’re supposed t’be my friend.”

Niall shrugged with a smirk. “I am. It’s just... you’re thinking about how you feel. Not the way she feels.”

“She’s not convenient,” he repeated.

“Harry, she is your nanny, and she does... everything,”

Harry frowned. “Did she say something t’you?” Harry was going to unceremoniously gouge a paperclip in his eye if he made her feel less than.

“I had no idea you had sex with her, if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t wait to Lord that over her for another three months’ worth of lunches.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I know I’m stuck with you. Why is she friends with you?”

“Oh, we just bond about how much we love you, Harry,” he winked.

Harry’s phone beeped with his secretary at the other end before he could respond to his friend. “Mr. Styles, are you in a meeting?” He asked.

Harry liked Stephen well enough. He was well aware of the procedure for his daughter and Miss Honey. He was organized, punctual, and good at his job. He liked to golf like Niall and enjoyed chatting with Harry about music. He fit in well and it seemed like a great addition to his office. Especially after it took several weeks of temp people to find the right fit after he fired the incompetent woman he had before.

“No, Stephen. Jus’ talking with Niall. S’matter?” Harry gathered the papers he was reading in his hands prepared to pause his conversation with Niall, regardless, so he could get home at a semi-reasonable hour. Which was already going to be hours later than he wanted.

“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Styles, but your nanny is really gorgeous. And she’s here, asking to see you,” Stephen had a smile in his voice.

“Oh man, poor kid is toast,” Niall chuckled as Harry wrinkled the papers in his hand.

“She said your door was closed and didn’t want to disturb you, so she let me know. She’s in the break room with your daughter... is she single? Holy shit, I swear I’m blushing.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Harry growled. “Can’t have a woman because she’s jealous of her, can’t have a man because he’s obsessed with her,” he rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath before he did something insane like smashed the button on the phone to answer Stephen. “Please refrain from drooling over her, Stephen,” Harry’s voice was clipped. Niall snickered. He put the lid on his Tupperware and left it on Harry’s desk for him to take home so that it could be refilled with her next yummy creation. He watched the agony on Harry’s face as he listened to Stephen talk about the girl he adored so much.

“I’m trying not to, but holy shit,” Harry knew all the inappropriate thoughts he was thinking because he thought them himself. “Watching her with the baby?” he sighed dreamily. “I think I’m ready to start a family.”

Harry yanked the phone cord out of his phone so hard, he was lucky plaster didn’t come with it. He shoved his chair back with so much force as he stood it tipped over and without caring he strode out of his office. All while Niall cackled behind him. “You.” He pointed at Stephen angrily as he approached the main desk on the floor. “Don’t even fucking look at her,” he strode past to the breakroom. Stephen stared at him wide-eyed and confused while Niall laughed behind him.

“So she is taken?” Stephen asked.

Harry turned to glare at him, but Niall leaned down on his desk. He mumbled something, quietly to Stephen, his eyes nearly laughing as hard as he did in the other room. Niall waved him off toward the breakroom again and Harry turned toward it but bumped into someone as he spun back around sharply.

“Oh!” She wasn’t prepared for Harry to be so solid (even if she knew he was) or for him to be right there as she approached him hearing Niall’s loud laughter before she saw either of them. Nor was she prepared for him to be mid-stride with the momentum of him turning and walking sent her already unbalanced body while holding Cece knocked her entirely off kilter. Which landed her right back onto the floor.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry grabbed his crying daughter immediately even though she was perfectly fine, Harry watched her clutch Cece tighter to her chest as she fell, even though it meant she landed so hard on her butt and back it had to have killed. “Niall!” He snapped.

Niall didn’t have to run far but he did all the same. “Hey, darling what an entrance,” he reached for her but Harry passed him Cece immediately before his hands met hers. Niall didn’t pay any mind to the change in which of Harry’s girls he held but he smirked thinking about how Miss Honey was one of his girls anyway. “Oh, I know, Miss Cecelia,” he cooed and kissed her temple. “That was a big fall, hmm?”

“Are y’okay?” Harry asked, crouching and grabbing her hands to help her sit up. “M’so sorry, love,” he cupped the side of her face. “Are y—”

“Is she okay?” She asked brushing Harry’s hand away gently. Her eyes were watery. Maybe it was the impact of falling or the embarrassment—Harry wasn’t sure. But if she was in pain, she didn’t seem to care. Her gaze was trained on Cece, alarm all over it.

“She’s fine, love,” Harry promised, ignoring Cece’s dramatics for the moment while he looked at her. “Are y’sure you’re okay?” He repeated.

“I’m fine, just embarrassed,” she put a hand on her face and winced as she stood and turned to Niall. “Are you okay, pretty girl?” She cooed. “Did I hurt you?” She frowned.

“No, not even a little,” Harry put a hand on her lower back. “Y’hit the ground hard, love. Are y’sure you’re okay?” He repeated.

“Harry, I swear I’m fine.”

Cece reached for her tearily, trying to wiggle her way out of Niall’s grip. “Aw,” he clucked. “You just want to make sure Miss Honey’s okay, little Miss?” He asked with a wink in her direction. As soon as her arms were around his daughter, Cece nuzzled into her embrace against the front of her shoulder; her little hands gripped either side of her shirt right around her chest. It was adorable and Harry was very jealous of the attention his daughter could give her like that.

“Are you alright?” Stephen approached.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry’s voice was quiet as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m fine,” she kissed the top of Cece’s head and rocked her gently. “Just pretty embarrassed. Any chance you can erase that from your security cams?”

Stephen chuckled at her. “No one gave me a straight answer, I’m sorry to be so blunt—I know it’s poor timing since you just had a little tumble there...but I have to know. Are you single? I would love to take you on a date. You are so beautiful and—”

“Alright, Stephen,” Niall gripped his shoulders and steered him back toward his desk. “If you want to keep your job you’re never going to speak to her again,” he winked at the blushing girl over his shoulder. Harry was trying not to scream, fingers pressing to both his temples and covering his closed eyes. He was taking deep breaths to quell the angry jealousy that was boiling in his blood. How did this get so goddamn messy in such a short amount of time?

“Are you alright?” She asked.

He exhaled deeply, totally frustrated. “Am I alright? I asked y’that at least three times,” he grumbled.

“I told you I’m fine!”

He opened his eyes after rubbing his hand over his face. “What are y’doing here?”

She frowned. “Do you want us to leave?”

“God,” he wanted to slam his head into a wall. This day couldn’t be worse. “Can we get out of the fucking hallway?” He asked.

She nodded, her cheeks turning red again. The moment he entered the breakroom with an angry expression on his face, the few of his employees in the room made a swift exit. He pulled a seat out for her and watched as she winced as she sat. The table had a plethora of bags on it. A food bag, the diaper bag, the car seat, and her purse. “M’going t’ask if you’re okay, again,” he said quietly. “Please don’t lie t’me if y’feel uncomfortable.”

She smiled and nosed at the top of Cece’s hair where she was still snuggling. “I feel a little awkward telling you my butt is definitely going to be bruised.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. But at least she told the truth. “Are y’okay?”

“Other than a little embarrassed and a little bruised, I’ll be okay.”

“Good,” he sighed and ran a hand on the back of Cece’s head. “Hi baby girl,” he cooed, smiling for the first time in what felt like hours.

“Who’s that?” She asked. “Is that Daddy?” She giggled. “Do you want to give Daddy some of these snuggles? He’s having a bad day and needs one, I think,” she whispered and turned Cece toward him. She went willingly—excitedly, snuggling just as easily into his embrace. It felt like a warm glow settled over him. All the frustration he felt dissipated, and happiness started to bubble through him.

“That’s better,” he mumbled and kissed the top of her head. The only way it would be perfect was if he could hold her as well.

She smiled. “I brought you dinner,” she reached for one of the bags.

“Just Harry?” Niall asked from the doorway.

“Get. Out.” He growled.

Niall snickered closing the door behind him, which made her laugh as well. Harry rubbed his hand up and down her tiny little body while she set the food up—she even cut up Harry’s food into bite sized pieces so he could continue to snuggle his sweet daughter while he ate with one hand. She munched on whatever she purchased as well. “This is good,” he mumbled. “Where’s it from?”

“There’s a restaurant down the road. I stopped once after one of our visits,” she explained. “I would have made something myself, but I wanted to see you sooner rather than later.”

If he was questioning his love for her before, when Niall had asked earlier...

There was no question now.

He loved her with every breath. Every atom of his body.

He loved her.

So.

Very.

Much.

*

Day four and five post power outage came and went without much fanfare. Harry worked late. She brought Cece to the library and made sure she was entertained, learning, and growing. When Harry got home late, he said goodnight to an already sleeping Cece in her crib before he returned to the kitchen where the woman of his dreams was setting a plate of food out for him.

They didn’t speak much those two days, but he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t leave the kitchen while he ate. She packaged the food neatly for him and Niall the next day. She cleaned the dishes and counters. Hardly looking at Harry while he watched her. His eyes roamed over her body as she worked, desperate to see what was underneath her clothes again.

“Are you staring at me?”

“Mhmm,” he didn’t even bother hiding it. She had to know how much she meant to him.

“Harry,” she sighed, turning around and leaning against the counter. Her skin was flushed that pretty reddish pink tone that made him imagine the other three times he saw her skin change to the same color.

“Yes, love?” He smiled innocently. “Jus’ thinking ‘bout your bruise.”

Her skin turned a shade darker. “I bet.”

He took another bite of his food, smiling less than innocently. “Are y’okay?” He asked. That was serious.

“I actually don’t have a bruise. Or at least surface wise,” she explained. “The bone is still sore,” she admitted.

“I could rub it for you,” he offered. She turned back around without letting him see what shade of red she was turning. She braced her hands on the counter and tilted her head up to the ceiling.

He smirked.

But that was nothing compared to breakfast. Harry came directly to the kitchen in nothing but his towel making her put a hand on her throat. She put Cece in her highchair and turned to the fridge. Was she cooling herself off in there? Harry wished he could find out.

This had to qualify as sexual harassment in the workplace. It was her workplace after all.It wasn’t that Harry didn’t care if it was harassment, of course he wanted her to be comfortable. But she was comfortable. Wasn’t she? He didn’t imagine that chemistry between them. There was no way he imagined it!

Her tank top looked so pretty showing off so much of her soft cleavage that he just wanted to bury his face against her body. There was so much more than just her taking care of Cece or taking care of him. He wanted her to crumble. Only because he wanted her to crumble right into his arms. He would give her everything she wanted. Whenever she wanted it. They could make another baby right then. Right at the kitchen counter (or maybe after she put Cece down for a morning nap).

Harry stood and moved beside her next to the fridge. “Harry,” she whispered. “Please...”

“Please what, kitten?”

Her cheeks burned bright red and she looked away holding yogurt in her hands for Cece to try next.

“Do I make y’uncomfortable? Because I’ll stop,” he promised.

Ever so slightly, she shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “You’re just... making it really difficult not to flirt with you.”

Harry chuckled his mouth close to her earlobe. He inhaled along her hairline aching for her pretty smell. “Y’can flirt with me any time y’want, love,” he assured her. He pressed a hand on her arm, squeezing just above her elbow. It was the least erotic place but it made her heart skip a beat and the heat between her thighs spread throughout her body. Her eyes fluttered close, and Harry moved back to Cece leaving her cold and ridiculously turned on and he didn’t even do anything other than exist.

She was so. Goddamn. Screwed.

*

Harry’s stupid, insanely hot body was the only thing she could think about while the rain poured outside. More of the storms that lined their region wreaked havoc over the last couple of days. Which meant she was stuck inside with no escape from all that smelled like Harry, reminded her of Harry, and screamed of how much she wanted to kiss Harry until she died from breathlessness.

Sitting on the sofa where he made her come was a poor choice. She put her book over her face briefly before she sighed, unable to read any of the words that were in front of her because all of the letters on the page seemed to turn into the same five letters over and over. Just her brain screaming for the beautiful man that was kind, sweet, utterly adorable with his daughter.

And also, really good at making her come.

Cece had just fallen asleep in her swing for her afternoon nap. The soothing back and forth motion made it easy for her to drift along with the sound of the rain against the house. She had a book in her lap and was listening to the quiet instrumental playlist she had playing to keep Cece asleep. A cup of coffee was right beside her and other than her heart freaking out that she had slept with her boss and now it was really awkward, it was really peaceful.

For half an hour.

The power went out again. Fortunately, it was a little lighter out than it was during the storm where she let Harry pleasure her. Despite the swing turning off from lack of electricity, she noted Cece hadn’t stirred an inch. Frowning, she grabbed her phone to let Harry know.

There was no service. The storm must have knocked out the cell towers as well. Or maybe someone hit the pole outside Harry’s quiet neighborhood. Or maybe still, a repairman had knocked it out again trying to fix something to prevent further damage.

But when she peered out the drawn curtains, she immediately realized that the streetlight at the end of the driveway was still on. “Huh,” she hummed trying to piece it together.

Of course she wasn’t a mother. But having children around in her life and taking care of them for so many years, she felt she had developed some kind of mother’s intuition that someone else wouldn’t have if they didn’t have her job. She didn’t want to see it, but she swore she saw something move. Someone. Something like a shadow but worse, and it moved along the side of the house just out of sight.

No. No more crime dramas before bed. She thought to herself.

No one would come here to harm them—to harm Harry or Cece, right? They were just ordinary people.

Right?

More than ever, she was grateful for the soundly sleeping baby—she prayed the six-month regression she was going through wouldn’t make its appearance known. She hurried to the living room, scooping her out of her swing. She grabbed her favorite stuffy too. She took the stairs two at a time, careful to refrain from jostling Cece and waking her. She brought her to Harry’s bedroom. She refused to go in there after... She shook her head at that thought. That blissful, perfect thought. Harry was going to be home in no more than a couple hours, but it didn’t make this any easier.

“Okay Cece, you need to dream for a while,” she whispered. “I love you so, so much, okay?” She placed her in the middle of Harry’s closet floor, found a notebook on his nightstand. She tore a blank page from the back and scribbled a note on it hoping Harry would understand she was doing what she needed to do. She left the note in the closet as well. “Just sleep,” she whispered and kissed her soft little forehead.

Silently, she prayed for Chloe knowing she would be around. Quietly begging her to keep Cece safe while she dealt with the sound of a window smashing on the floor below.

She hurried downstairs with a pounding heart. Two men were climbing their way through the window. “What are you doing!?” She shrieked.

One held a gun up at her. Her hands went up instinctively. “Who are you?”

“I-I’m the nanny. What are you d-doing?” She repeated her heart in her throat interrupted her normal speech.

“Where’s the baby?” The other one snarled.

She shook her head. Terror pulling at her in every direction.

No, she’s just a baby. They can’t want her. “She’s not here,” she croaked praying her lie wasn’t obvious. She would throw herself in front of them, by all means, but she wasn’t dumb. They were a lot stronger than her. They couldn’t get past her. “She’s... she’s with her aunt,” she prayed that Harry wouldn’t hate her again. She would do anything to protect Cece. Harry already lost too much and if he lost his baby girl…

She shook her head at that thought, willing it out of existence. Harry’s worst fear was leaving Cece alone and she had just left her in a closet. Even if it were for the greater good of her safety it killed a piece of her to do that. Worry strung her mind wondering if there was another, better option. Leaving her alone without a bottle? What if she was there for hours? How long would she sit in her diaper? What if she cried so hard she dehydrated herself? God, how was anyone supposed to make this kind of decision?

“Jesus Christ, you said she was here!”

The man without the gun looked nervous. Clearly, he wasn’t the one in charge, but he had been right. She was there. Hiding in the dark. She prayed that she didn’t wake or make a peep. She just needed them to get out of the house.

They almost ignored her while they talked through a plan, the gun never straying from her vision. Slowly, she made way for her phone just out of reach. The man chose that moment to remind her that they hadn’t forgot about her. He walked closer to her making her throat close around a sob. “Let’s go,” he ordered darkly.

“Go?” She whimpered. She was going to be sick. “Go where?”

The one not in charge glanced at his own phone. “We have three minutes.”

“Walk,” he ordered and shoved her toward the door.

“Wait, please let’s just talk about this—”

“There’s no time to talk. You’ve seen too much. Either I shoot a bullet through your brain right now, or you get in the car.”

“You don’t need to do this!” She was glad the tears and sobs were quieting her voice. It was anything but fake. “I won’t tell anyone—”

“Save it,” he snapped and put the gun on the back of her head. She choked out another sob. “Can you take us to the baby?”

Her heart ached something fierce. Like someone had ripped it in half. “No, I don’t know where his sister lives,” at least that was true.

“Then you’re stuck with us,” he snarled. “You better be worth a pretty penny.” Kidnapping? Kidnapping her? She was good at her job. But not that good. Harry wouldn't take out a ransom for her. Would he? No... his daughter, of course. But not her. She was just the nanny. Someone he slept with out of convenience. Harry would be glad that Cece was okay. Even if she left her alone after she told him he never would. God, her heart hurt. “We only have another minute. Kill her or don’t. We have to go.”

A fresh wave of tears filled her eyes as they walked out of the house. “Okay, okay! I’ll go.” She sobbed. She hoped they didn’t notice they were tears of relief.

--

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[earenwen-leafwhisper]

The handmaid and the dragons part 2

---Part 1---

Summary: The last Farewell of Alyssa, pain not only one personne. A prince needed to talk.

Pairing: Baelon Targaryen x servant reader, Child Daemon Targaryen x servant reader and Child Viserys Targaryen x servant reader (all platonic)

Trigger warning: death, mourning and funeral, tears

Note from the author: part a little shorter than the first part, but I wanted to focus on an event. Like the first part, the reader is not described physically.

English is not my native tongue, if mistakes have been able to pass my correction, I will correct them soon

---

The fog was falling on the area, heavy clouds covered the sky and darkened the landscape. A veil of sadness covered the castle.

The sisters of silence had walked from the great septuary. The servants, lords, and ladys were all looking sad and mourning. If it were not the sound of the armor of the guards and the wind blowing in the streets of King’s Landing, the castle was nothing but a dead silence.

Queen Alysanne was to stay with the children for two days. On the third day, you looked at Viserys and Daemon, you tried to keep your tears and deep sadness secret, your heart tight, you helped the children getting ready. Viserys had red eyes and ate, having cried since the time when the masters had refused to let the children see their mother. Baelon was so devasted that seeing Viserys in this state, had him so hurted to see him, that he turned back and refused to see the children not wanting to show them how devastated he was, so see them sad. He wanted to show himself strong for them, despite the emptiness he felt in the place of his heart.

Daemon was still too young to understand clearly all that had happened, he asked after his mother, but the servants, nannies and Targaryen only replied that he could not see her.

The evening when you were walking around and Viserys was crying, you tried to stay calm and nice.

"Where is Mom?"

"In a better world, little prince..." Daemon and Viserys looked at you with their child’s eyes, not understanding why their mother had left without them.

That night, you told them a story you had already heard (from family, friends, others), a metaphor about death and life after it, whether for the people who are grieving, or the person who died and his crossing into the afterlife.

After all, it also helped you in some way to mourn your loss, which was quick because of your position as a servant. Even if deep down you where hurt.

The next morning, you woke up earlier than usual, you had given yourself the task of looking after the children, to get in the easier task for the other servants not to have to look after them. It was the best way for you not to end up breaking down.

The clothes had been taken and organized in order to optimize their change of outfit, a basin of hot water was placed so that they could wash off their night of sleep more or less agitate. Everything was close and yet you did not want to wake them, you wanted to leave them in the realm of dreams. But it was necessary to wake them up, for their final goodbye with their mother.

---

The wind had faded as everyone gathered around the funeral pyre. Baelon was in front of everyone, near the body of Alyssa, his shoulders were shaken by his sobs. The queen took Daemon in her arms to bring him near Alyssa.

"Why is mommy hiding? Why is Dad crying? Why is Vhagar here? Will mommy wake up?"

 

And so on the questions were. Follows from Viserys, who tried not to cry. You could hear him sniffing, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his tunic. With a broken voice, he said goodbye to his mother, he laid down small flowers picked on the way up the hill. wanting something cute to be near his mother.

Viserys and Daemon stood side by side behind their father. Jaehaeris and Alysanne stood a few steps away from them, as did some of the royal family, like prince Aemon and his wife Jocelyne Baratheon. The guards were posted not far from them, and finally a few more steps away, you stood with some servants, some of them were your friends, everyone were in different level sad, some people at the edges of crying. You could hear people sobbing, although everyone tried to keep up a good figure, appearances were not misleading.

Baelon took some time before moving back from the pyr, Aemon having approached him and placed his hands on his shoulders in order to support him in this terrible event. It is with a hoarse and broken voice that he says to fear word in High Valyrian.

"Dracarys..."

Vhaegar looked at Baelon, her gigantic head slowly moving, the dragon watching Baelon, you thought to see a gleam of understanding in the dragon’s eyes, but quickly pulled out this idea from your head when you heard the small voice of Daemon.

"Mommy ?" His voice was filled with misunderstanding and concern.

When Vhaegar moved her head to line up to set the fire, Daemon grabbed Viserys' tunic and shaked him. When the flames touched the woods, Daemon screamed.

"Big brother! Mommy’s is hurted !! "

But Viserys did not move, tears running down his cheeks. Daemon ran to Baelon.

"Daddy! Mommy’s hurt!!!"

He clings to the leg of a Baelon crying in Aemon’s arms, shaking him and screaming at full lung, tears begin to flow down his cheeks. He looked at his grandparents but they kept a steady face, which did not give confidence to Daemon.

When he see you, he runned towards you, you put yourself on his level and took him in your arms.

"Y/nickname! They hurt mommy!! Please!! Help her!!!"

"I’m sorry, Daemon, I can’t do anything..."

"A magic kiss!"

"A magic kiss can’t help your mommy... I’m sorry..." Your last words were between soft sob.

When Daemon saw you crying, he cried even more, punching on your shoulders, sad and angry at you. He did not speak to you for a week. It's hurted him, that people not helped him in the face of the flames of Vhaegar.

---

A few days after the funeral, while you were washing the sheets of the rooms that were assigned to you during the day. You saw prince Baelon walking towards you. You were seated in the lavender’s basin, near other servants. The prince’s presence was not at all customary. He approached with a sure and fast pace. He stopped only once in front of you.

"Leave us." His voice left no choice to the servants present, who with a nod of the head went away. "We must speak."

You looked at the prince, while laying the linen to be taken from you, and let him speak.

"You have always been close to Alyssa..." Her eyes are darkened by the mention of his late wife. "And my children."

"That’s right my prince." This talk with Baelon made you uncomfortable, because you spoke very little to him now even less.

"Alyssa loved you very much, my sons also like you very much..."

Baelon sighed and sat down on the edge of the basin, you could see his purple eyes, circled by purple mark, the features of his face slightly dig in, you worried about him.

"I should not have gone into this war against Dorne... I should have stayed with her..."

"My prince... All hoped that the princess would recover... The maesters took care of her... We were all there... Her loss is a tragedy for all of us and even more so, for you and your sons. At least you were there, she knew you were safe and sound." You didn’t know if your words could help him but you tried anyway.

"What would have happened if I wasn’t here?!"

"Your sons would have been by her side, your mother would have been by her side, we wouldn’t have let her go alone."

Baelon began to weep, tears slowly flowing from his eyes.

"Why her ? What did I do to lose her ?"

"Nothing wrong, my prince..."

"I never cheated on her, never had bastards... And... And..." Baelon’s not going to continue his cries taking the lead.

"I’m sorry my prince..." You don’t look at him anymore, leaving a hesitant hand, to rest on one of his shoulders.

You felt him redeem, at the touch of your hand, but say nothing, leaving completely to his sadness.

"You are not alone, my prince... We are here to support you"

Baelon remained in the basin for several hours, showing his grief completely. It gripped your heart, you could not imagine how much it had to be destroyed within itself. It was in silence that you finished your washing, at the prince’s expense.

"You go to Daemon and Viserys?"

"After changing the sheets of Prince Aegon’s crib."

"How do my children react?"

"They miss you, my prince... It would be good for them to see you." Baelon looked at you with his purple eyes. " They need you my prince, you have lost your wife, but they have lost their mother... Let them not lose their father too. "

"Yes... you’re right... but it’s so hard..."

"Seeing them might do you some good, my prince." Baelon looked at you and you smiled softly.

“Maybe... yes...”

Baelon nodded his head, before moving to your side towards the castle. Your arms carrying baskets of linens. The wind blew gently, letting fly away the few dead leaves that had formed in this early autumn.

 

"My prince, I hope that one day your heart will find peace..."

“I doubt that will ever happen.”

"We don’t know what the future holds for us, my prince, your sons may give you some peace."

“The void left by Alyssa is so great...”

"But your sons are present, they hold your heart."

 

Baelon shook his head slightly, think of your words, full of optimism, that optimism which had been torn away from him for several days.

---

Tag list : @avalyaaa

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter one: southern nights

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI), nothing explicit in this part but future parts will be

series summary: 

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 4.4k

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), mild alcohol use, mentions of food/eating, pet name (sweetheart), polite southern manners (*cough* sir *cough*), feeling familial and self pressure

“I can see a truck pulling up now! C’mere, see if you can get a glimpse of them. You’ve got better eyes.”

Your mother is standing at the side of the picture window in your living room, attempting to stealthily get a good look at the new neighbors moving in next door. Her hand waves you over from where you’re standing at the bottom of the stairs, disheveled from the sleep that is still fogging most of your brain.

You definitely have to be half asleep because you comply with your mother’s urgent pleas, the bottoms of your bare feet sticking to the humid wood floors. You are fresh-air people, as your mother says, leaving all the windows and doors open for as long as humanly possible in the summer. It only lasts for the first few weeks of warmer weather, and eventually, everything gets sealed up and the house becomes a frigid ice box with the way your parents crank the air conditioning. Peeling your feet off the floor one last time, you stop in front of the glass.

Standing next to your mother, fully visible in the open window, you study the moving truck that’s pulled into the driveway adjacent to yours.

A local company. Must already be from Austin.

Behind the massive truck, a navy blue Ford pickup that you don’t recognize coasts down the asphalt, getting thrown into park in front of the lawn of the vacant house. Two men, maybe early thirties if you had to guess, climb out of the driver’s side and passenger seat, already talking over each other.

The one at the passenger side has dark brown, nearly black hair that looks just long enough to need a trim and frames his face with curls. Fairly tall, firm build. The white ribbed tank top that he’s wearing hugs his torso underneath the green shirt thrown on over it, buttons undone. He has a shit-eating grin on his face about something that must have been said, hand banging on the side of the car before he walks back towards the bed to grab a cardboard box out of it.

The other, the one that’s come out of the driver’s side, looks a bit older than the passenger. Much more cropped, but still messy, lighter brown hair sweeps down onto his forehead, the back of it curling up slightly at the nape of his neck. Definitely could use a haircut, too, but the bedhead is endearing. A hand reaches up to scratch at the trim beard and mustache that he’s sporting, the facial hair framing his strong jaw nicely. His eyebrows are furrowing in frustration or annoyance, or maybe a bit of both while his head shakes back and forth at whatever his companion joked about. He makes the grumpy stare charming, and you suddenly have the thought that you’d like to know if he’s always got that crease in his brow or if that’s only reserved for the man who was unpacking the truck now. The muscles in his biceps flex as he shuts his door, t-shirt pulling taut over his chest as he steps to open the rear door, a grin growing on his face.

Out from the backseat pops the most adorable little girl you’ve seen. Looks to be about seven or eight years old, maybe, with tiny, sweet features and dressed in a lilac shirt and denim Bermuda shorts. She’s got voluminous, kinky curls that show off natural highlights in the Texas sunshine. She’s giggling and giddy, reaching for the man who opened the door to help her down from the raised truck. He scoops her up, a shriek of laughter coming from the little girl as he slings her over his shoulder. More muscles flex in his back as he carries the weight easily, walking back to the bed of the pickup to grab some bags out of it to bring inside.

So tunnel-visioned on the vignette of family life playing out in front of you, you didn’t even think that you could be seen. A voyeur of your street, you forget that your curtains are drawn, the window is open, and a large pane of clear glass is the only thing in front of you. As if he could feel the burn of your stare, the eyes observing his movements, the man carrying the little girl turns towards your house. His stare catches your own that was already trained on him, a friendly smile plastered to his face as he raises the hand holding the girl in a short wave.

Mortifying. The first impression that your new neighbor, your attractive new neighbor, had of you was you, standing in ratty cotton sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt, hair falling out of the hair tie at the back of your head. Heat warmed your cheeks and the back of your neck at the embarrassment of being caught, and of being caught in this outfit.

Your mother next to you erupts in laughter, turning away from the window as you grumble under your breath about that interaction being her fault. Trudging back up the stairs to get ready for the day, annoyance is still twisted in your expression. You skip back down the stairs to the kitchen, dressed and hair fixed up, skidding into the open room to see your dad at the table alone, the newspaper in his hand with the job listing page already pulled out and set at your usual spot.

“Morning, kiddo.”

“G’morning, Dad.”

Sliding into the wooden chair at the kitchen table, you start to look over the listings in search of a summer position to occupy your time at home before you start your last year of university in the fall. There are a few postings for dogwalkers, hostesses, and waitresses that you’ve already seen or applied to in the last week. A couple of bartending jobs catch your eye, thinking about the tips to be made, but your thoughts quickly deflate when they require state licensing.

A huff of disappointment rolls from your lips when your mom comes back inside through the door to the garage, an artful smile pulling at her lips. She’s looking directly at you, the expression making you uneasy in anticipation of whatever news or plan she’s concocted. Your mother meddles, in the most loving way possible, but she can’t help but stick her nose in everyone’s business. So the next words out of her mouth really shouldn’t surprise you, but they do make your stomach turn with newfound anxiety.

“So, I just met the new neighbors. Well, one neighbor and his daughter, I guess. The Millers. His name is Joel, and his daughter’s name is Sarah, she proudly told me she was seven years old and starting the second grade in the fall. The other guy we saw was his brother that he introduced me to, Tommy.”

You’re currently rereading the same job listing over and over again to avoid looking at your mom, feigning disinterest as you nod slowly at what she’s saying. At the same time, your nerves zip in excitement at knowing his name now, and you bite your tongue to ask your mom to continue, knowing she’d tease your eagerness.

Instead, you let her tell you about the rest of the brief interaction, recalling whichever neighborhood Joel had said they moved from and how he and his brother have lived in Austin their entire lives.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you both,” your mom addresses your father for the first time in the conversation, the call to his attention making him lower the newspaper to look at her, a silent nod getting her to continue, “I invited them over for a barbecue tonight to take a break from moving in and have a nice meal after their long day. I’m gonna need you to run to the store for me, and I’ll have to get to cleaning the house…”

Your mom’s plan for the day and list of chores trail off in your ears as a buzz muffles it. Your hot neighbor was coming over to your house, tonight, and you were going to have to face him after being caught blatantly staring.

How great for you.

The sliding screen door pulls shut behind you with a woosh and a click, returning to its pathetic job of keeping insects out of the house while letting the slightly cooler evening air in. Foamy flip-flops smack against the weather-worn oak wood deck as you shuffle over to the large silver grill that your dad commands. Steel wool scrapes against the metal grates of the inside; your dad’s bent over to get better leverage to clean all the burnt bits off.

The beach-themed melamine platter weighs heavy in your hands, covered with burgers, hot dogs, and brats - plus a couple of veggie burgers - to the point where the design of crustaceans and shells in the waves and beach towels laid out on the sand is completely disguised.

“I didn’t ask what they like to eat, so I got everything I could think of! You can’t assume these days with all these new folks moving to Austin, I’m trying to be considerate,” is what your mother said to you when you asked if she was planning to feed the whole block or a small army with the amount of food that was going on the grill. 

Don’t even get started on the sides.

You set the platter piled with meat on the webbed black iron patio table to the side of the grill, shuffling over to stand at the edge of the deck, overlooking the chlorine-blue pool water that shines in the slowly fading sunlight. Your parents had installed the in-ground pool the first summer you’d been home from college, jokingly claiming it was their way to make sure you came home every summer, and your brother, Chris, too when he went away to school a short two years after you.

To be honest, it may have been a joke, but it was definitely part of the reason you came back each summer. That, and you just felt more yourself, more at ease at home. It was your comfort zone, but after spending every school year pushing yourself out of your comfort zone academically and socially, you always wanted to return to the warm, sun-soaked home that you grew up in. Maybe that made you more dependent on your parents still, maybe your friends saw it as immature, but you knew what you wanted to do, and you weren’t going to suffer over break just to seem like “an adult” like your friends thought they did.

“You gonna go for a swim, kiddo?”

Your dad’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, focusing your eyes back from the wide aperture they had fallen into as you stood mesmerized by the water moving down below you. Clearing your throat, you cross your arms over your chest as you turn back to your dad at the grill, the clicks of the gas burners lighting aflame while he twists the dials at the front.

“Maybe later. Once this attempt of Mom’s to get the first gossip on the new neighbor is over.”

Your dad laughs softly at your lightly satirical joke at your mother’s expense, shaking his head and giving you one of those looks that says ‘just do as your mother says like you always do.’

“Well, you can relax plenty later. Just be on your best behavior for the neighbors, will ya?” He laughs at his own comment, the sarcasm coating the request he’d made. You’ve never made waves in your family, in your friend group, in your neighborhood. Always known as the “sweet girl” to your older neighbors, the “golden child” to your peers and your family. Your initially reserved nature gives everyone the impression that you are a polite, kind Southern belle. If only they could read minds.

Flip flops thwacking with each step as you cross the deck again, slipping inside through the sliding door. Skating past the kitchen quickly before your mom can rope you into helping with more preparation, you take the stairs two at a time to get up to your room to get ready.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that there was a small part of you that was excited to meet Joel. The majority of you burns with embarrassment and is dreading having to face him after getting caught in your voyeurism this morning, but with how attractive he was, it could be a bit fun to have him as a neighbor next door.

Which is why you’re standing in front of your full-length mirror, hair fixed up from the state it was in when he first saw you and a short, light blue sundress on. Eyelets and embroidery covered the dress, the square neckline was framed by cap sleeves. It was modest enough to keep your intentions for dressing up hidden from your parents, but it was revealing enough to make you feel confident to face your hot neighbor for an official introduction.

The next half an hour is spent following your mom’s instructions, most of them being silent points of her finger while she’s absorbed in another task. Every so often you make eye contact with Chris through the patio door, him in the middle of the same treatment from your dad out by the grill.

At one point, your mom is so tunnel-visioned that when you finish the last assignment she’d given you, you slip out to where your dad and brother are now lounging in the chairs around the table on one side of the deck. The metal scrapes against the wood as you pull out one and take a seat, sighing gratefully when Chris passes you a beer from the cooler next to him. The cap twists off with a hiss and a pop, the water from the melted ice dripping onto your chest. As you tip the bottle to your lips and dab off the water before it runs down your skin to the neckline of your dress, the Millers walk up the steps at the side of the deck, tumbling greetings over each other.

Your dad stands, your brother behind him as they take a few steps to meet Joel and Tommy halfway. Polite handshakes are exchanged while you get up out of your seat, beer left on the table to go get the embarrassment over with.

Sarah stands shyly next to her dad, her little shoulder completely encompassed by her dad’s hand as she looks up at all the men around her starting to talk about the latest Astros game. You smile softly at her and give her a wave as you move to stand with everyone, a slight smile growing on her face at someone acknowledging her. She steps away from her subtle hiding place next to Joel, the movement causing Joel to glance down at her before his eyes turn up to you.

A friendly smile ticks up one side of his mouth, brown eyes speckling with caramel highlights as he squints in the sunlight to take a step forward and reach out his hand to you.

“I’m Joel, the new neighbor.”

You give him a firm, polite handshake with a warm grin attached to it, nodding your head. 

Please dear God, or whatever is out there, don’t let him mention this morning.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir. Hope today hasn’t been too much of a nightmare moving in.” Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you can’t help but feel them turn to butterflies when his eyes darken ever so slightly at the word ‘sir’, hand quickly falling out of yours and resting back on Sarah’s shoulder as he clears his throat quietly.

“Hasn’t been too bad, right bug? You wanna introduce yourself?” His eyebrows raise encouragingly to his daughter and the nickname warms your heart, watching as Sarah grows more confident to stand up straight, a smile on her face.

“My name’s Sarah,” she directs towards you and then turns to her dad, waving him to crouch down to her level so she can whisper at the not-so-subtle kid's volume, “What do I say after that?”

Joel chuckles lightly and whispers back to her quietly enough for you not to hear. He stands up straight again, watching Sarah.

“It’s nice to meet you, miss!” she turns to Joel again, beaming proudly, “Is that right?”

He nods and looks back at you as you laugh softly, a wide smile on your face from the adorable and incredibly polite greeting Sarah’s given you. His own smile pulls larger as you bend down to be at eye level with her, warmth emanating from you introduce yourself just as Sarah did and fall into conversation with her.

She tells you all about her last school year in the first grade, her favorite toys, and how excited she is for her summer camp. The two of you have moved to sit next to each other on the outdoor couch, your drink forgotten next to you as you listen to the bubbly seven-year-old.

Joel and Tommy stay in conversation with your dad and Chris near the grill, standing around in a semi-circle and making small talk about sports, weather, and the sturdiness of your deck. Joel and Tommy mentioned having a contracting business together, and your dad ran with it, asking them every question under the sun about the longevity of the build that was done a few years ago.

Your mom comes out to join them for a bit, sitting with you and Sarah as you talk with each other before she gathers all the meat fresh off the grill to bring inside and finish setting up everything.

A few more minutes pass before your mom pops her head out and calls everyone in to make a plate. You stand up and wait for Sarah to climb off the couch, following behind her bouncy curls. Everyone’s made it through the door ahead of you, except for Joel as he lingers to wait for his daughter. One of his hands finds her head as he carefully ushers her inside, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes.

“Thanks for keeping her entertained. She loves to talk, doesn’t really get that from me,” he drawls out, his accent a bit thicker than yours. You shake your head, waving a hand at him to dismiss him.

“She’s the one keeping me entertained, I’m surprised I’m not boring her with my lack of summer plans to discuss. She’s very excited for day camp,” you chuckle quietly, still standing less than a foot from Joel at the sliding door. You can smell the body wash he must’ve used in the shower before coming over, fresh eucalyptus and birch mixing with the richer cedarwood and bergamot of what you assume is his cologne.

“Oh, yeah. Big time. She was begging me to sign her up finally this year and it made sense with my work schedule getting busier. But, still, thanks for hanging out with her.” He nods toward the door, gesturing for you to walk in ahead of him. His hand hovers behind your back as you step in ahead of him, fingers brushing your dress lightly before he quickly pulls them away.

You stand to the side to let the guests go through to get their food first, Joel helping Sarah put everything she wants onto a plate while balancing his own. Tommy happily starts eating what’s already on his plate halfway through the line, earning a jab in the side from his older brother. Once everyone’s gotten what they wanted, you all pile back outside to the deck to sit around and eat.

The table isn’t large enough for everyone, so it ends up being your parents, Chris, and Tommy sitting around it while you, Joel, and Sarah sit around the patio lounge set. Sarah happily sits on the ground at the coffee table, you slipping a cushion down for her to rest on before sitting in one of the chairs across from the couch.

Joel’s settled next to his daughter, facing you as he wipes his mouth with his napkin.

“So, uh, your dad said you’re going into your last year at TCU? What’re you studying?”

“Public Relations and Advertising. I’m hoping—”

“She wants to move to Boston!” Sarah interjects with a mouthful of hotdog bun.

Joel looks at her with a gently reprimanding look, “Bug, please don’t talk with your mouth full. ‘S not polite.”

He turns back to you after patting his daughter’s curls, lips curled up to one side.

“Boston, huh? What’s all the way up there?”

“Not here,” you laugh softly, shrugging your shoulders as you stab a piece of potato salad with your fork, “I love Austin, don’t get me wrong, but living here my whole life and going to school only three hours away in Fort Worth feels like I haven’t seen much outside of Texas. Plus, there’re some good agencies up there and it’s not as scary of a move like New York or Los Angeles would be.”

Joel nods in understanding, speaking up after he finishes a bite, “I get that. Haven’t lived anywhere but Austin my whole life, but I can understand wanting to experience new things.”

You might be imagining things, but you swear you can hear his voice drop deeper in the last half of his sentence. It sends a flutter between your legs, and the back of your neck burns with chagrin.

Conversation continues to flow easily between you and Joel, and Sarah, too. Your parents don’t ask you to help clean up because you’re so invested, laughing quietly at his subtle humor and smiling widely when Sarah adds in her commentary or tells a story.

Tommy and Chris join you all on the lounge furniture, falling into a wider group discussion of neighborhood politics and what fun things you and Chris got up to when you were around Sarah’s age.

Joel’s eyes stay trained on you whenever you're speaking, even glancing at you when you’re both listening to someone else. The eye contact from him stirs your stomach and hitches your breath, your own stare avoiding his when it gets a bit too intense.

Hours are consumed quickly, the twilight blue skies dimming your backyard so that only the porch and string lights illuminate the deck. Low light and the late hour have soothed Sarah to sleep, her small frame tucked into Joel’s side. He keeps a hand on her back while she rests, everyone looking at her tenderly.

Joel asks you and your mom if you know of any other neighbors with young kids that are going to the park district day camp for the summer, wondering if there’s a possibility to carpool or arrange some care for Sarah when he’s got a busy schedule.

Not knowing anything yourself since you don’t live here full time anymore, you turn to your mom and watch as the gears turn in her head, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Actually, haven’t you been looking for a summer job, honey? Maybe you could nanny Sarah! Drop her off when Joel can’t, pick her up every day, and watch her until Joel gets home from work. That is, if you’d be interested in that, Joel.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to stutter out a response, feeling a bit flustered at your mom’s out-of-the-blue suggestion. Plus, you aren’t sure you could manage to work for your hot neighbor and to see him often; it was one thing to have a crush and pine freely from afar, but spending time in his house? Seeing him every day?

Your thighs press together as your mind races with thoughts about more of Joel in all aspects.

Being the ever-so-polite Southern daughter you were raised to be, you turn to Joel with a glittering smile and nod despite the stomach acid creeping up your throat with your nerves.

“I’d love to help out if you need it. Spending my summer with Sarah would be fun.”

At your confirmation of the offer, Joel pauses for a moment to look down at his sleeping daughter, heading swinging back to you with a boyish grin on his face.

“Guess that solves my problem then. Think you can start next week? Her first day is Wednesday.”

Arrangements are made with Joel as the Miller crew gets ready to leave, your own family have said their goodbyes and retiring inside to clean up after the night. Joel and you stand on the deck next to the stairs that lead to your side yard and over to their house. He shifts on his feet, passing Sarah from his arms to Tommy’s for his younger brother to get her home.

Joel’s arms stretch up briefly, giving you the slightest peek at the bottom of his stomach when his t-shirt lifts. Saliva floods your mouth as the thought of kissing there when you’re on your knees for him passes through your mind quickly. 

Stop thinking about him like that. Yeah, he’s hot but he’s also now going to be employing you.

“Thanks again for offering to nanny, Sarah. She’s gonna be real excited when I tell her in the mornin’. You sure you don’t wanna take the out now?” His hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, a coy smile on his face.

“It’s really no problem at all. Like I said, I think it will be a fun summer.” 

There’s no hidden meaning to your words, but for some reason Joel drops your stare after you speak, glancing down at his boots before he raises his head again, his smile a hint wider.

His drawl coats the words as he replies, “Well, it’s definitely gonna be somethin’, sweetheart.”

Joel turns on the heel of his boot, bounding down the short staircase and over toward his yard. He looks back once, a short wave raised towards you as he calls out a ‘goodnight’ to your frozen frame on your deck.

The front door of the Miller house clicks closed and you finally exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Slow movements carry you inside and up to your room, flopping down to your bed on your back. One had rested on your stomach filled with butterflies, the other over your heart to feel the quickened rhythm.

Joel was right, this summer was definitely going to be something. And you were eager to find out what exactly it could be.

series taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @clingontolife @elizabeth01585 @wandaandellie @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @livinxdeadxgrl @sw33tp1xie @starsandsaints07 @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @whydontyoysaynodoja @beee-haw @shmaptainshmerica07 @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @spursgirl14-blog @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @grapejuicesny @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @lisa-ru @jupitren @ziggy-star @miaispunk @oneofutoo @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @marchai @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @helllsent @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @angie2274 @owod3 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn

[fueledbysano]

robyn darling~

i have an urgent need to tell you the details of my dream from last night about your beautiful writing :

in it i dreamt that i was sleeping and woke up in middle of the night and peeked at the site to see that you had wrote a izana pregnancy reader and i swear threw the phone in rejoice and excitement to read + flash forward to the a.m. when i jumped out of bed to go and read it again and found out that it was all in my own little mind...so if i may ask is any chance would you happen to have some ideas of what kind of expecting father he would be?

(sending over lots of love as always)

-🤍

first time dad!Izana

expecting your first child with Izana ♡

♱ final timeline Izana x f!reader

♱ reina, what a beautiful dream!!! and I'm in it?!? 🥹 what an honor to be included in your cute dream. let's make that a reality! I may have shed a tear or two while writing this! :')

♱ @enchantedforest-network

˗ˏˋ one of the projects that the "Tenjiku" nonprofit organization have is a foster home. Izana, being the co-owner, would feel a special connection to children. As a man who experienced a traumatic childhood, Izana would be extremely empathetic and understanding towards the children and their needs. He would strive to get to know every child and give them the care and support they deserve until they eventually find a new home.

˗ˏˋ It's only natural that Izana would have fears about becoming an actual father. he had a crappy dad. a crappy mom, and a crappy adoptive mom. he knows what it's like when someone messes up as a parent and he's scared to make a mistake he cannot take back.

˗ˏˋ Apart from his romantic love for you, his found family, and his love for the foster children, he had never experienced a parent's love and he's afraid he doesn't know how to give it to his child. He is worried that he will be too strict and that he will inadvertently hurt his child by acting on his own instincts.

˗ˏˋ However, everything else he's done in his life— trusting Kakucho, building Tenjiku, asking to marry you: he's sure. When Izana was growing up, he certainly never expected to become a father. But, after taking in all those children in the foster homes and caring for them, as well as marrying you, he wanted to get to experience everything. with you. Even though it was not something that he planned, he was now excited and very eager to become a father and to experience everything that goes with it.

˗ˏˋ Apart from the excitement and fear that comes with the news of becoming a father, Izana would feel a sense of responsibility. Especially due to his abandonment by his own parents, Izana would have a strong sense of responsibility to make sure that his child would never have to face anything like he had to. At the same time, he would also feel a desire to give his child the best life possible. As an already very dedicated and passionate person, the news of becoming a father would only strengthen his resolve.

˗ˏˋ It's clear that Izana is very dedicated and protective of you during your pregnancy. He wants to ensure that you are not put under any unnecessary stress while you are pregnant, and he hires more nannies to make sure that you don't have to do any work.

˗ˏˋ Izana would also spend a lot of time reading pregnancy books, medical journals, and forums to better understand the pregnancy.

˗ˏˋHe is definitely one of those parents who make a birth plan. He reads it everyday despite having done going through it the moment you two finished making it, to the point that he had the pages memorized. He wanted to be ready for any possible scenario and ensure the safety of his baby and wife.

˗ˏˋ He would also do his best to connect with your unborn baby by playing guitar for your belly and singing to the both of you.

˗ˏˋ He will leave the final decisions of the baby's clothes and items and the nursery decorations to you, but will do his best to renovate the room and make it look beautiful.

˗ˏˋThat way, he would honor your preferences while also making sure that the nursery is a comfortable and safe space while keeping you relaxed.

˗ˏˋ Naming the baby would be a huge decision and one that would take a lot of thought and consideration. Izana would want to choose a name that has special meaning for him and you. Perhaps the name would be influenced by your cultures or have some significance in your childhoods. Izana really thinks carefully about your child's future.

˗ˏˋ You always reassure him that you have full faith in his abilities as a father. Even though he has never had a parent himself, he has always taken pride in taking care of others, be it his found family or the foster children, and even your unborn child; you constantly remind him that he doesn't need to worry about his ability to give the love and support that he never received, because he already has everything he needs to be a excellent father, and that you would be there with him every step of the way.

˗ˏˋ and with that, he would be even more filled with anticipation now, with still the pang of nervousness, and he would be eager to see the child that he and you have created together.

˗ˏˋ The moment the baby is born would be a significant and emotional one for Izana. He would be filled with joy and pride at the arrival of your child, and he would feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility and admiration that he is now responsible for another human being.

˗ˏˋ Izana would be extremely devoted and present during the whole process, and he would be the first one to hold the child in his arms and welcome them into the world before he walks to you to share the beautiful moment, and feel your baby's touch.

˗ˏˋ He is completely enamored by your baby and he would want to keep you both safe and happy. Izana is filled with gratitude towards you for giving him this precious gift and for bearing the pain and hardship of pregnancy. "Mahal, you are so wonderful. Thank you for making me a daddy."

˗ˏˋ His heart is so full of love. he was so relieved, knowing that this kid is going to be the luckiest baby. they have two loving parents, the coolest uncles, and a bunch of big brothers and sisters in the foster home. It is the moment that Izana sees that his life is now filled with even more love, and that his life is richer and more complete than ever before.

[rhiezus]

[UNDRESS] The sender begins to unbutton the receiver's shirt, taking their time with each button. // jinhyung x kyungri NAO AGUENTEI EH O GIF QUE TA NO SEU TUMBLR

there could be little to a non-existential excuse to treating his wife so casually on a day to day basis. it's not that jinhyung doesn't think he is a good husband or that he doesn't make an effort to be the best he can — because he absolutely does. but things change drastically in your life when you have kids and you find yourself busy going through life trying to raise a family focused on building a nurturing environment for them. it takes a toll on you too because through many expense that becomes part of your goal, one you never had before but that now you don't know yourself without. suddenly everything becomes about what you can do for them and how you're gonna do that, that's your dream and that's your life. it may sound imprisoning for some people but for parents like jinhyung and kyungri it's so much more than that, it's care and it's love and it's an every day struggle that is so much more than worth it just to see their innocent smile or little feet happily wobbling around directly into their safe arms.

so yeah, in the process you end up forgetting a little bit of your marital life. or even about your own life as an individual, an individual that has needs just as any other. sometimes you gotta stop everything you are doing to realize who you were before this and how is that person still doing inside. to jinhyung doing that is to look beside him, kyungri has all the answers he needs in her eyes, he can tell just by the way they go through day to day together. when they sit down on a sunday night after putting up the kids to sleep, both tired as hell from a day of going out or just keeping about, trying to put together a schedule that works for the next two weeks. who is going to do what, who has work, who can stay at home, nannys and kids schools... when she gets that crease between her eyebrows, she is thinking intently on something, focused. when he pouts like a baby because he doesn't wanna do this anymore, he just wants to sleep, but she always manages to remember who important it is for them to decided what day he can take off so he can pick her up from the studio and they can make some love in the car on the way home — or even better when they can escape for ice cream, eating alone on the car and talking about their day. that's team work, one their build with so much effort. and even so it's not always that everything works out according to plan, they can't account for ryze getting sick on a random tuesday or for aria losing her favorite toy on a friday night keeping everyone up looking for it until one am. still, jinhyung says that's the magic. they make it work, every single time, like they are some kind of wizards.

every day or so they can relax, today is a sunday where they don't have to think about any of plans for the week because both of them talked over last week. they worked their asses off for seven days straight just to get a free little time. today there was no planning ahead. jinhyung had his day off because it's sunday and he has a no work sunday police, but kyungri had flew in a bussiness trip last night and she arrived today just a little after seven. they put the kids to sleep together, thankfully everyone had their desired toys and stuffed animals on their rightful places this time and since they doze off quickly, they enjoyed the silence before nine o'clock. a wine bottle was opened in the upmost quiet ecstasy they could muster, they sat on the couch and drank the whole bottle before they even realized. and frankly neither of them was tired and their eyes found each other naturally through the conversation — this and that, "how was your trip?", "...some nice people there", "ny's cough is getting worse", "i don't know if i like how my voice sounded", "maybe we could eat there for dinner tomorrow".... — there was a moment jinhyung looked intently at kyungri's lips, how they moved while she was talking and how did her lipgloss was still standing after getting off the plane, kissing their kids goodbye and drinking wine. the damn glass of wine got to take if off and he didn't yet, he got mad about that for a second before he could notice what her hand was going up and down his tight making him look to her eyes again. "sorry, love." his voice was whispered deep between them, one because they had children sleeping upstairs and second because he wanted her to be the only one to listen to his pleading.

and with kyungri you don't have to say twice for the message to be delivered, in a glance or even an expression; a single exchange of any of those and they comprehended each other. years of being together, marriage and children just makes each other's reflections as natural as breathing. jinhyung leaned forward after seeing the grin that grew on those lips, kissing it off in a single move, a quick one that was stopped only by her hands reaching the collar of his shirt, the fingers working really slow on the buttons. "c'mon you can do better than that." he teased when his face was still hot on hers, inches to taste that lipgloss again. they were not going anywhere other than that moment, on that couch, wine in their veins, everything just a little too intoxicating to be rushed. there was no need not to savor how her scent was the same from the day he first met her, many moons ago. or not to notice that now that they were so close, jinhyung could see a little bit of her red lingerie sticking out of her white shirt. all this going through the man's head while she was still fiddling with his buttons, smiling at him. when she was about the last two, he smiled back at her and tossed her hands aside in an abrasive movement, slipping himself off his shirt with ease. "there, better." he whispered forgetting the shirt was ever even capable of anything, he was too damn hot for wearing it anyways. then chasing for her lips again with his own, gently and passionately. he was going to be a very good husband now, one that didn't let his wife plead for anything other than him.

[jarofstyles]

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes 4- Preparations and Secret Keepers

Helloo my loves! They’re back. Lady Y/N and Princerry have returned and they’re ✨ in love✨ obviously. I hope you enjoy a bit more of them!

Check out our Patreon for exclusive writing and early access.

Warnings- a smidgen of exhibitionism if you squint

WC- 3.9k

Fic masterlist

————

The ballroom was beautiful.

Y/N had nearly felt tears in her eyes when she first saw it. Swirls of saturated color all around. Flowers in opulent garlands wrapping around the marble columns and up to the ceilings. The lights twinkled from them as they hung down from the dark vines that curtained the ceiling, looking like stars in the sky.

The tables were lined with expensive cloth, a deep red with a lace runner going through the middle. Fine dishware was neatly stacked, the golden designs etched and foiled on them shining in the lights. Bouquets were the centerpieces, red ribbon tied around the vases in delicate bows. There were no expenses spared for this. His and her initial was painted on the dance floor with the royal family crest, gold foiling making it sparkle. Staff scurried about to put on finishing touches on the scene while Y/N and the Queen did a last check up.

What had her truly gasping for breath were the specific flowers that she had shown Harry in their walk decorating the royal table, the bouquet specially made for her at her spot clear next to him. The first time she would be at a royal event… as a future royal. Her hands were a bit sweaty as she followed the Queen dutifully, listening to her comments as she made small adjustments for the headmistress to go over with staff.

Y/N admired his gracious she was. Saying please and thank you to staff was not something most nobility did, but she did. She wanted to be just like her. Friendly and kind. Not a feared woman- unless she was crossed. Respected. That was her goal, above all else.

As soon as they had a moment alone, she turned to her. “How are you truly doing, my dear?” Her soft hand landed on Y/N’s forearm, true compassion on her face. She could see her bristling nerves grating on her even though most couldn’t. “You are good at hiding your emotions. The reason I can see it is because I was in your shoes once.” She soothed. “Having good control of when you show them is important. But you’ve proven yourself thus far.” Her kind smile made Y/N relax a little bit.

“Thank you.” She replied. “I am… I’m good. I think it is a bit overwhelming but I remind myself this is the first one. I will get used to it. It’s to celebrate our love and union, too, so I should not be worried.” Y/N refused to let jealous and bitter women ruin the beautiful thing that Harry and her had created. Had been thrust into; his arms welcoming her like a warm bath. The Queen nodded at her statement, the pair walking slowly as they observed the royal table. “He remembered.” Her whisper was caught by the Queen, watching her fingers brush one of the flowers with a smile.

“He is a good man. I am happy with how he’s grown.” The Queen loved her son dearly. She wasn’t fond of the way most royals before her had reared their children, handing them off to nanny’s and other staff dedicated to the job. She wanted to be hands on. To raise him to be a good man, to make changes she had already started to implement. He would not be arrogant and rude. That was a fear, knowing the power could get to his head as it did to many, but she did it herself. She was spoiled with ladies maids who would tend to him at night as a wee babe, but she did everything else. The bond between parent and child was gravely important. “Though I will say… the change I’ve seen in him since he has met you has made me ecstatic.”

Y/N turned to her with curious eyes. “How so, may ask?” She was treading lightly, still wanting to be respectful but dying to know. Any bit of information about him from a reliable source made her giddy. Filing it away in her favorite folder in her memories, she wanted to soak it all in.

“He seemed more… excited about ruling. He learns with vigor. Speaks up. He wants to know the intricacies more and more. Before… he was unmotivated in some ways.” There was a pause as she exhaled. “I suppose that was partially our fault. We wanted him to remain as carefree as he could, to form his own personality without it being directly tied to a title. He learned a lot during his childhood but he had been seemingly nervous as he grew. Now he seems far more settled in it.” It was most definitely because of Y/N. “Having a reliable, trustworthy and level headed ruling partner is one of the most important and undervalued assets a King can have. They do say, "What is a King without his Queen.” She gave a slight smile as Y/N followed her words closely.

“You have those qualities, from what I can tell. Keeping a level head and still being able to defend yourself and the person you love is a beautiful thing to have as a ruler. It isn’t easy. People will disagree simply because you spoke, you rule. I can understand why, to a degree. Taking into account the stress of being a King, I think that you will be able to elevate him. I believe him the same as you. The King may seem to be the one who holds all the power… but know that it isn’t true. I’ve helped come to all of the most important decisions in our kingdom’s history. It isn’t a job to take lightly.” The Queen could see it on her face, how she was agreeing but still spooked. This wasn’t necessarily a test, but it was a reality she needed to face. She couldn’t just play royal. It was a job.

“That is why I was so worried about who Harry would end up with. Many women.. they think that being a Queen is being lavished with diamonds and pearls, being fed delicacies by hand and never lifting a finger. They think it’s the custom dresses and crowns, the balls and the galas, the travels. But it is so much more than that.” She squeezed her hand, giving her another smile. “I was terrified that my son would follow a man’s intuition and just go for whoever appealed to his physical senses without taking a woman’s brain and intentions into account. He was incredibly lucky to stumble across you.”

It was abundantly clear that Y/N loved her son- and if not fully there yet, close to it. She never indulged when she was at the palace, was polite, thanked workers and never threw fits. The girl was respectable, well read and could hold a conversation. It was more than a lot of the other women on the court could say when they were vying for Harry’s hand in marriage.

“Do you truly think I’ll make a good Queen?” Y/N asked quietly, looking her in the eye despite wanting to look at her skirts. This was an intimidating conversation but she needed to hear it. None of it was enough to make her leave. It was a lot more than she had ever expected to take on as a wife- if she had ever married at all- but Harry’s tender heart and gentle touch was well worth the challenges. She hopes.

“I do. I think you’ll be one of the best we have seen. Continue to be fearless, to speak your mind to your husband, to be honest and open with him, rule with a fair hand and you will do amazing. The council will try to intimidate you. Do not let them.” The word of warning was clear. Y/N’s tummy turned at the serious tone. “They will try and sway you. The reason for it, as you know, is to have the people given more of a say. But do not let individual agendas influence your decisions. Make them as your heart and mind see fit. Harry will be behind you.”

That, she didn’t doubt. The man had been continuously proving his devotion to her every single day. She had read in her books; the romance novels that had her flustered and fanning herself at times, about love and men. About how she could be treated. Harry far exceeded any expectation.

“I understand. I will do my best, and I will trust my husband. I know he and I have had some conversations about it. I don’t know if he told you of some of the other encounters I’ve had with some of the women, but I already know the way people will treat me. How they will manipulate and how I will need to be careful. But as long as I have Harry, I have my family? I am strong.”

“You will be wonderful.” The Queen replied. “You are wise beyond your years. I’ve heard whispers of what people have been saying, what they’ve been doing. I am not one to abuse power but if you wish to have anyone removed from this party? That is your right.” She wouldn’t want anything to ruin this. It was a step in the new direction of the kingdom, her first real taste. She needed it to be good for her.

“Thank you, my Queen. I will.” Y/N nodded, looking back towards the bouquet. For him? She would do anything. For herself? She would prove that she wasn’t someone to stand on.

—————

Harry watched as she walked down the hall, alone at last. She was stunning, his intended. So beautiful and strong, her head held high as she walked the corridor as if she knew where she was going. She didn’t. All she knew was that Harry had requested her in the library.

“Hello.”

“My goodness!” Y/N yelped, hand over her heart as it raced like a hummingbird inside of her chest. “Harry! You musn't scare me like that.” She still walked towards him, entering the library as she tried to shake off her bout of fright.

“I’m sorry, my love.” Harry peeked down the hall to see it empty, closing the door behind them. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Approaching her, his hands reached for her waist to pull her into his embrace. Smooth. Always so smooth and warm to the touch, making his fingers flex into the dress. Her corset hid the squish of her flesh, something he was dying to feel under his hands, but he thanked the world that she let him handle her this way. The light blue of the dress did wonders to compliment her eyes, ruffled at the bottom in a way he usually dislike- but again, his sweet Y/N had a knack for making him enjoy things he rarely did in the past. She made any dress she wore look like gold. It was impossible for her to dull her glow, a beacon of light that his eyes always wanted to follow.

“That is a lie, my prince.” She laughed under her breath. His grin made sure to tell her he enjoyed making her jump. “Luckily for you, you’re handsome and far too charming to hold a grudge, so I forgive you for it.” Her head tilted back, taking in his content features. Alone. Truly alone with one another in the Palace’s library. It was quite big, shelves upon shelves of books in every color imaginable. A top floor with a balcony overlooking the rest, dark wooden ladders to reach the tall shelves at the bottom, a large reading area in front of the fireplace and a padded bench in front of the window to make for a nook to hide away in. The large arched window let in beams of light, streaking across the room and illuminating the front of it effortlessly.

“I fear that I’ll spend every free moment here.” She returned her gaze to him after looking around. It wasn’t her first time in here, but she was still amazed at the quantity of books in one room. The palace was much larger than she had ever anticipated. “I don’t think I could read every book in here, even if I read every moment in my lifetime. You’ll have to read with me.”

Y/N had expressed a want for that. To find a book to read before bed, just for them. A tradition.

“Of course. I’ll read with you every night if it’s possible.” He released her waist, taking hold of her hand and letting her lead him into the darker aisles of the library. It was relatively quiet in the room, the sound of their steps clicking over the wood floors being the loudest thing they could hear. “What are you looking to read?” His question was soft spoken, aware of how little space there was in these aisles. They were meant for one person to explore, but he truly didn’t mind. Being close to Y/N was a blessing.

“I’m partial to romance. I love all books- I love learning about my flowers and history, I love fairy tales… but I particularly enjoy romance. Happy endings, mostly. All of them, though…they can be quite eye opening. You’d never guess it. People love to diminish the literature because men do not usually enjoy them- at least publicly. Some of the most breathtaking quotes I’ve ever heard of were in such books.” She ran her fingers along the spines of the cloth bound books, grazing the embossed titles. “You learn a lot about people in them. How betrayal can affect a soul, how love can heal. Above all else, loving is a choice. An action.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, unsure of what she meant. “I don’t think I had a choice. I think.. my heart was yours the moment I laid my eyes on you. I’ve never questioned it.”

“There’s different types of loving. Having your heart belong to someone… It is a different sort of love. A soul deep love. But to be in love actively, you choose it. You choose to show the person your feelings, to express them. You do the acts of love by stroking my hand, by choosing the flowers for our table.” A coy look was shot his way. “It won’t always be easy. You’ll have to choose love above all else, even if it’s harder than another solution.” She turned to him, placing a hand on the side of his neck, the dim light doing nothing to hide his beauty.

“I feel the same. I feel as though you plucked my heart out of my chest like harp strings and held it in your hands. There wasn’t much of a choice in that. But the act of loving? It is a choice. Being loved and in love are two different things. We just happen to have both.” And god, did she love him already. It was soul deep, like she said.

“I see…” he rolled his lips in for a moment before pouting ever so slightly. “I can understand that. I haven’t thought of that before but… I suppose it’s because I haven’t read as many romance novels as you. Or, perhaps you’re just a smarter being than me.” He had to chuckle because sometimes he believed it to be true. Y/N’s thoughts were vast, complex, something he wanted to dissect over time. He loved hearing what she thought about policies so far, what she thought of their system. Even just her thoughts on books and flowers. She thought about things he never would have imagined- and it’s part of why he loved her. The creature challenged him in ways no one else ever would, kept him on his toes all while providing a comfort in her presence many would die to have.

“No. You’re just as smart, but in a different way. It’s refreshing. We both have qualities the other needs. It’s one of my favorite parts about us.” She slightly scolded him for that. No self deprivation on her watch.

“Yeah? What are your other favorite parts?” He murmured, feeling the tightness of the space but not wanting to back up. Instead, he got closer. “For example… I love your brain. I love how you speak, how your lips curl around words. I love how I feel like I was submerged in the warmest bath with all of the sweet smelling oils when I’m around you.” His fingers rose to brush her cheek. “But… I hate that I am not able to touch you how I wish.” Speaking of love always got to him. His reminder of how much adoration festered in his heart, how much impatience he had towards expressing it to her in a physical way.

Y/N’s mouth dried as she felt the man close in on her. If her heart was beating fast before? It was ready to fly out of her chest now. Breathing quickening as she leaned into his touch, she found her words on the tip of her tongue, hands settling on his forearms. Against her better judgment, she allowed herself to speak. “How do you wish to touch me?”

The voice was much softer than she would have hoped, showing how she was weak kneed just from this simple touch. Back against the shelf, she peered at him through her lashes, anticipating the next words out of his berry hued mouth. Oh, how she wanted that mouth.

“I wish to touch you without these corsets. I want to feel your skin underneath my fingertips, the softness of your flesh dipping as I hold you.” He paused, inhaling shakily. “ I want to bury my fingers in your hair and tug your head back so I can kiss you. God, I want to kiss you so, so badly. It aches in my soul. I crave nothing more than your affections. You know that?” He looked pained as he leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. This was a dangerous situation, both of them in a state that they didn’t know how to handle. There were lines they could not cross, things he could not say, but he was feeling them all.

“You do?” She peeped, eyes round at his blunt words. He had expressed some of these things in a letter before but… hearing in person was a whole other experience. The low rasp of his voice as he kept it down, keeping their secrets between their ears and the pages of the books.

“I do. Words can not express how much I look forward to our wedding day.” When they would become man and wife, when he could take her the way they both wanted. “When I never have to worry, I can kiss you freely, in front of whoever I wish. I hate that there are barriers for us. I understand tradition, I respect it… but I can’t help but wish to break it.” He wouldn’t, but he had to hold his breath as he felt her nose brush against his own. The walls of rigid rules were so irritating for him, he wanted to make them crumble to rubble on the ground.

“I know. I crave it just as much, Harry.” She replied shakily, breath felt against his lips. “I want your touch on every part. But we have to respect the traditions. Don’t we?” She asked, feeling as though she could fall over as she felt their lips brush for a single second before his own rested over her cheek.

“We do.” He mumbled against the smooth skin. “But… I can kiss here.” His lips puckered ever so slightly on her cheek, dangerously close to her mouth. “I can kiss here… and it’s not breaking any rules. My ring is on your finger… I tend to claim you in the ways the world allows, to follow those rules.. but you are mine.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to arch into him. A little gasp left her as she felt a firmer kiss placed to her cheek again, letting their lips feather together before he placed one to the opposite side. “My bride. My queen. My heart. I will never be as proud of anything… as I am to have been chosen by you.”

Y/N let out a whimper, pulling him close and returning the gesture. Dangerously close kisses, right in the same places. Temptation. She should have pulled away, but she couldn’t. Her body pulsed, a heartbeat felt between her legs as he let out a quiet groan.

“My sweet…” he rasped. “My self control is so little. It’s merely hanging by a fraying thread. I respect you more than to take you in a library aisle…” he paused. “At least before we are married.” The thought flooded her brain, her skirts lifted up and his firm palm holding her mouth to keep her quiet. Taking her deep and slow against the shelves, filling her to the brim. Her leg hitched over his waist while fingers clawed at him- he didn’t know how he was able to wait.

“Harry…” she gasped, feeling his lips press to her jaw. “You’re making it so hard for me to behave. I need to be…” she lost her train of thought as her eyes closed, head falling back against the wood. His kisses were feather light, brushing over her jaw and making her fingers dig into his arms. If she was in this much pleasure just from this? What would it be like without all of the barriers? Would his fingers make her tingle as much on bare flesh? Would his kiss her all over?

“I’m sorry…” he mumbled against her skin. “I’m sorry…” teeth grazed her ear, making her whine. “I’m sorry, my sweet. I will stop.” He had to drag himself away from her body, tempted to nibble on her smooth neck and leave marks all over. He couldn’t. But he wanted to.

Y/N wanted to gasp at his looks. His dark gaze, eyes glinting in a darkness she had never seen before. Lust. True lust, his cheeks flushed and lips slightly swollen. It would look like they did more than look for books if they were caught, but Y/N committed it to memory. She wanted this very look painted in a portrait. Her Prince’s desire for her. Nothing had ever felt more real. “My beautiful prince…” she sighed, hands prying away from his arms to hold his hands. “We must leave or we will get carried away. You’ll never forgive yourself.” She knew that much. Harry was very proud of doing this properly. Of keeping himself a gentleman.

“I know.” his fingers squeezed over hers, taking his own deep breath as he calmed himself. “I’ll behave. It is hard, having the affections of a woman as stunning as you and not be able to indulge… But I must.” Even if it pained him. He would do this properly, honor her and make her his wife before he devoured her in the way he craved.

[scorpioriesling]

Invisible String - Part 2

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): light angst if you squint. Please be advised; future parts might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't begin the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- get excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You paced back and forth awkwardly around your room, not sure what to do with your time. Normally, you'd give Riley a bath and see her off to bed -- but not tonight. Her father had come home during dinner today, and you almost couldn't believe your eyes when he'd materialized before the both of you in the dining room.

Gods, you'd never seen her so excited to see him come home in all the time you'd known the two. She truly missed him when he was gone, just waiting to see her dad come home at the end of the day. You understood; to be honest, you worried some nights when he would be gone late, always apologizing like his timing was the end of the world. He failed to realize that it was his safe return you were more concerned with.

You paused, shrieks of laughter heard from the opposite end of the Wing and you smiled to yourself. Padding over to your open doorway, you peeked your head out, listening as Eris' faint voice spoke with his daughter, saying something that had her giggling once more before you heard the distinct sound of her door latching shut. You retreated back into your room, trying to find anything to busy yourself as the sound of his shoes drew nearer toward your room.

"Could I offer any help with the last of those?" Eris asks, leaning casually against the doorframe as he gestures toward the stack of heavy boxes piled in the corner of your room. You turn, crossing your arms and then uncrossing them, not quite finding a comfortable position.

"Um... well, I could probably get them, tomorrow." You shrug, biting on your lower lip. Eris' eyes study your face for a long moment before he chuckles, walking over to the pile and pushing up his sleeves with such grace. He lifts the top box, his arms flexing under the weight as he adjusts his grip under the edges.

You try, really, really hard not to stare.

"I'll leave these outside to be picked up in the morning, unless you needed them to be kept for something?" He asks, and you all but shake your head before he heads out of your room, leaving you in awe. You shake your head, get it together. That is your boss, for Gods sakes. You take a deep breath, pushing your hair behind your ears before reaching for the next highest box, barely reaching the upper rim before its contents nearly spill over on top of you.

"Cauldron damned-" your curse is cut off when the box doesn't completely dump out on to you, but is caught haphazardly between your hands and one of Eris'. His other one is wrapped around your waist, preventing your impending collision with the floor.

"Woah! Woah," he says, his voice much closer than you expected and you open your eyes you'd inadvertently squeezed shut. He loomed over you, holding you so close to his chest that you sucked in a breath, your eyes widening when they met his peering down at you.

"I'm..." you made to stand, and he lifted the cardboard from your hands. "I thought I could help with that one." You said sheepishly. He chuckled, glancing sidelong at you.

"Always trying to do everything," he muttered. "Honestly, I'm just surprised to hear Y/N actually say a bad word out loud."

You set your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow and ignoring his teasing remark.

"This is my mess, anyhow. I was just trying to help."

He turns, heading for the door once more.

"Allow me to help you for once, hm?" He says, winking and walking out. You roll your eyes, irritated at how warm your cheeks feel. You flit about the room, putting random smaller items away and folding a few articles of clothing as Eris makes the last few trips. When he comes back in for the final time, he sits on the edge of your bed with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You look to him, noticing his exhaustion from the day again. "Thank you," you say, and he looks to you again. He offers you a small smile, leaning back on his hands.

"For all that you've done, helping you move a few boxes is incomparable." Your lips curve upward as you place a few more of your skirts inside the drawers of the dresser, averting his eye. After a few shared moments of quiet, he speaks again.

"This room... its... I'm glad someone is using it again." He says, his hand running softly over the duvet. You glance at him, his fallen expression puzzling as you go about tidying up.

"Oh?"

He's quiet again before he looks at you. "I used to avoid coming in here, after... well, after Selene left." He says quietly, and you pause. The air feels thick, you try to keep breathing evenly as your mind races.

"She... the two of you didn't share...?"

"No." He whispers, looking at the floor. "She thought only mates should share a room."

You shoved the drawer closed, walking slowly to the bedside and sitting next to him.

"I'm sure this is common knowledge by now, but our marriage was simply a transaction, a sign of goodwill between our courts." He let out a humorless laugh. "No magic, golden thread there."

For everything he'd done for his court, all the battles he'd won, every fight he'd fought and all he'd witnessed... this was a subject he rarely discussed, as it seemed tomdrag him down the most.

"Eris..." You said softly, reaching out a hand timidly and placing it on his arm. He braced lightly against the touch, and you leaned closer. "I'm so sorry that you were treated that way-"

He sniffed, his hand rubbing along his jaw quickly before he stood, your outstretched hand slowly retracting with the distance between you two.

"It's alright. Nothing for you to worry about, anyway." He flashed a humorless half-smile, and you stared up at him with concern. You could tell it was a tough subject for him, and you definately didn't want to pry; but he didn't exactly have many other people to open up to.

"Well... alright then." You say defeatedly. He nods, turning and heading for the door. He looks over his shoulder only once more before closing the door behind him.

"Sleep well, Y/N."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Apple juice, please?" Riley asks, and you pour her a fresh glass, delivering it to her awaiting hand. She sips quietly, then blinks a few times when you sit down beside her. "Oh -- thanks!" She smiles.

You nod, silently praising her good mannered habits. You could still remember when you arrived at the Forest House, the little spitfire was ordering people around at the ripe age of three. "Give this!" and "Do that!" was all she managed, and though her heart was pure, you did encourage better etiquitte; luckily, it stuck.

"Daddy said he have a surprise," she swung her legs under the table, some of her juice swishing in her cup. You raised an eyebrow.

"Did he, now?" You weren't sure what she was talking about, or if there really was a surprise at all. Eris had made haste this morning, rushing past you this morning on his way out the door. He'd barely kissed his daughter goodbye before he was on his horse and halfway to the border-

"He did! He said he had one." She insisted, and you nodded in understanding. What it could be, you had no clue.

"Well, lets finish our dinner so we're ready when he gets home, yes?" You suggest, and Riley agrees, jamming the last of her chicken nuggets into her mouth and chewing with maximum effort. You shake your head, smiling at just how normal the girl was. You were just glad she found joy in chicken nuggets still, and didn't request challenging dishes every meal quite yet.

Insisting on wearing her fluffy pink footie pajamas, Rylie then sat in your lap on the couch, her stuffed beagle clutched in her hands as you brushed out her wet-clean locks.

"Braid it pretty?" She asks, and you leaned in, kissing the top of her little head. She grinned, holding her little beagle's head to her lips and kissing it's head just the same.

"Anything for you, Riles," you say, getting to work on the long strawberry strands. She sits very patiently for a four year old; that is, until you've secured the band at the end of your work and the front door creaks open.

"Daddy!" She's up in an instant, running to the door with glee and clinging to her father's leg the moment she spots him. You stay seated a moment longer, listening from the living area but not quite ready to see Eris yet. After the tense conversation last night, you couldn't help but feel... awkward, after the conversation.

After a few minutes, Riley has retreated to the living room looking rather dejected. Your brows knit as she stalks toward you, her beagle hanging limply from her fingers.

"Daddy says bedtime. You take me please?" She says, looking down at the floor. You frown, your hands lifting under her arms as she wraps her legs around your waist.

"Of course sweetie," you try to sound upbeat, but she only lays her head on your shoulder. You pet her head, wrapping your other hand around her to keep her propped up against your waist as you make your way to her end of the Wing. You look around as you go, not seeing any sign of Eris on your way. He literally just got home, what the Hell could he possibly have to do right now?

Once you reach her room, you place her gently atop her plush duvet, her eyes half closed when her head touches the pillow. You pull a loose blanket over her legs, knowing sometimes she gets cold at night, and kiss her little cheek one last time before moving toward the door.

"Y/N," she whispers. Your eyes meet hers in the dim light, your fingers stalling as they reach for the glowing tableside lamp.

"Yes dear?"

"Can you please read? Please?" Her bottom lip trembles. "D-daddy always reads... he reads my book..." she sucks in a breath of air, and you rush over to her bed, taking her little hand in yours.

"Yes, of course honey!" You say, hoping she will feel better. "I would love to read you a story," you look left and right, searching for any tomes near her bed. She lifts a limp hand, her finger pointing to the book resting at the opposite end of her bed.

"You'd like that one? The Kissing Hand?" She nods, one tear slipping free and running down her cheek. You hastily grab the book, and she scoots over, making a space for you to lay beside her. You scoot close, reaching an arm around her and she snuggles close as you flip open the book. Her little fingers wipe her tear from her cheek, and you begin to read.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You weren't sure when you'd drifted off, but when you slipped back into consciousness, your back ached from its cramped position on the small bed. You looked around, the darkened room coming into view as well as the peacefully sleeping babe next to you.

You must have fallen asleep reading to her, you thought. Surely you'd left the lamp on though; its glow would come in handy now as you tried to slip silently out of her embrace, sneaking out in absolute darkness. At least the door was still cracked open.

You'd stumbled around quietly enough and made it down the hallway to the kitchen, the clock on the wall coming into view.

Four in the morning. Gods.

You kept walking, feeling along the walls until you found your bedroom door, and let yourself inside.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You woke up that morning to the delicious smell of cinnamon and sugar, the comfort of your plush bed surrounding you as the first light of day drifted through your curtains. You yawned, stretching out your arms and slowly opening your eyes.

Ahh, what a lovely morning.

Morning. The sun was out.

You threw the covers off of you hastily, your bare feet hitting the cold wood floors in a rush as you lunged for your door handle. Riley was surely awake by now, and surely starving. You bounded down the hallway, your steps faltering when you heard her familiar ramblings from the kitchen and registered the smell of food wafting through the air.

As you approached, you watched in pure shock as Eris stood over the kitchen island, his hand holding his daughters as he helped her spread icing over a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls, smiling and talking along with her. He hadn't noticed you walk in; but she sure did.

"Y/N! Finally! You're awake!" She squealed happily, and you forced a smile, still confused by the scene before you. Eris looked up then, his eyes meeting yours only briefly before he went back to the treats he was making.

"Good morning Riley," you said hesitantly, stepping closer toward the island. Eris' eyes flicked up again, snagging on the silk pajamas you'd changed into before collapsing onto your bed last night. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Good morning. Eris." You said, and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Morning Y/N." He said plainly before turning to Riley, lifting her off the counter and setting her on the ground.

"Bunny, why don't you set the table," he handed her the silverware and a few plates. "And we'll join you in just a few minutes?" She nods, skipping into the dining room, as Eris braces his hands against the countertop, his eyes locked on yours once more.

You stare back, shrugging when you can't understand the point of standing in silence. "What?" You ask. He sighs, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for the... discussion. We had. The other night, it was... highly, unprofessional." He nodded, looking down at the pan of cinnamon rolls once more. You raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh erupting from your lips and causing him to flick his gaze to you again.

"What is funny?" He asks, seeming a bit taken aback.

"Nothing, no," you say, smiling softly at him. "I just... Eris, I live in your home. I spend every day with your daughter. I think we're beyond professional, aren't we?" You say. He cocks his head to the side, a small smirk curving the side of his lips.

"I suppose we are, then."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Daddy. These cimanim rolls. Are. Delicious!" Riley grins with delight, Eris' expression a mirror of his daughter sitting next to him at the table. You watch the two and your heart swells; one day, you could only dream of having something so special as that.

"Why, thank you Princess!" Eris says, and she holds her chin high. You shake your head at her, and Eris' eyes meet yours, his face giving away exactly what he's thinking. After a few more quiet moments, he speaks up again.

"Bunny, I wanted to ask you about doing something fun today," he says, and Riley immediately perks up.

"Fun?" She asks, and he nods.

"In the Town Square, there is the Autumn Festival, and it would make me very happy as your daddy if you would go with me-"

"Yesss!" She shrieks, every single one of her teeth showing as she smiles in excitement. You can't help but feel so happy for her -- she deserves time with her father, and he's finally home to spend it with her, doing something she had been longing to do anyway.

"Ohmygosh I can't wait! I will wear my Princess dress so everyone knows I am a Princess, okay," she explains hastily, only pausing to take a sip from her glass of milk.

Eris nods, looking to you. "I figured you may appreciate at least a day off as well," he adds quietly, and you offer him a gentle smile. Truly, you didn't need one, but you appreciated his consideration all the same. Riley doesn't quite catch the incinuation, though.

"Y/N, you have to wear a dress. You can't borrow from me this time because you're too big," she says, hopping from her chair. "You have a dress?" She asks. Your eyes meet her dad's and his mouth opens to answer first.

"Bunny," he starts. "I don't think Y/N was going to come today," he explains. Rileys brows knit in confusion as she looks at him.

"Why not?"

"Well," he says, trying to tread lightly. "Maybe Y/N has other things she would like to do today. It's okay though; just me and you can go." He says, but Riley looks to you, her eyes looking you up and down.

"What... what else do you want to do though?" She says, and you chuckle.

"Riley, honey, today you can go have fun with your daddy, alright? Me and you play here everyday," You reason with her. She doesn't let up, and Eris studies you from across the table.

"Daddy -- can Y/N just come too?" Riley says. You sigh, looking to Eris for help, but he only stares quietly at you, a small smile on his lips.

"I really will just stay here-"

"Yes." Eris says, and you meet his eyes, Riley spinning in happy little circles at the end of the table. "Y/N can absolutely come with us today."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[fingertipsmp3]

Like one of the side effects of my new pills is vivid and strange dreams, but idk how I would tell if I was experiencing that particular effect because my subconscious regularly sends me to the shadow realm anyway

[cariantha]

A Chance Encounter (3/3)

Book: Open Heart (Pre-Series) Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Teen Category: Fluff Word count: 1.3K Series Summary: Ten years before meeting at Edenbrook, Ethan and Sawyer have a chance encounter during spring break.

Chapter Summary: Almost two years after moving to Boston and meeting Ethan Ramsey, Sawyer realizes her spring break dream guy and current boyfriend are the same person.

Part One | Part Two

Part Three: The Realization 

March 2024 - Boston, Massachusetts

“Okay, okay! Truce!” Sawyer surrendered with breathless laughter. She and Ethan, and most of the surfaces in the room, were dripping wet in the aftermath of their impromptu water fight at the kitchen sink.

Ethan playfully swatted her bottom with a dish towel before he started mopping up the countertop. “Hey!” she jumped with a laugh. “You started it, mister.”

“Uh-uh. You did when you gagged at my recipe idea.”

“Sorry, not sorry. But it was a terrible idea. Who puts raisins in pasta? Who puts raisins in anything? Gross,” she shivered in disgust. Changing the subject, “Hey, speaking of terrible things… did you hear about all those spring breakers who ended up in the E.R. last night?”

“I did. I saw it on the news as well. It’s a miracle no one drowned. Fifty people crammed onto a pontoon boat… what a bunch of drunken idiots,” Ethan commented and shook his head.

“So, I take it you never did anything crazy or reckless on your spring breaks?” She stopped what she was doing and turned to face him. “Did you even go on any spring break trips?”

“Once.” 

Nearly a year and a half since meeting in the lobby of Edenbook, Sawyer still hadn’t remembered their encounter over a decade ago. And Ethan didn’t want to tell her. He wanted her to realize on her own and was still hopeful she would. Something would eventually jog her memory and he wanted to witness the moment she finally connected the dots. The more senior doctor had always been fascinated with how his protege’s mind worked, how an everyday random thought became the key to unlocking a medical mystery. He wondered if it would be like that when she finally remembered. But then again, Sawyer didn’t even know there was a mystery to be solved, so maybe not. 

“Once what?” Sawyer asked, walking to the dining table to collect the wine glasses, “Once you were reckless or once–” She cut herself off as her foot slipped out from under her. “Whoa!” she yelped, clipping her elbow on a metal cabinet handle as she fell on her rump. “Owww,” she whimpered, cradling her throbbing funny bone. 

“Shit! Are you okay?” Ethan rushed to her side and crouched down. He peeled Sawyer’s hand away from her elbow and saw red. “Come here.” Scooping her into his arms, he stood and gently deposited her on top of the kitchen island. Reaching for a roll of paper towels, he tore a couple off. “Here, keep pressure on it. I’ll be right back.” A minute later he returned with a first aid kit. 

Needing a distraction from the throbbing pain, Sawyer watched him sort through the kit. “Tell me more about your spring break. I can’t quite picture you partying on the beach in Florida. Isn’t that where all the east coasters go?” 

“It was during med school,” he answered. “Tobias’ stepdad had a house at the beach, right on the water. We spent a few days there with a couple of other buddies from school. It wasn’t anything wild like the scene in Florida… pretty upscale… but Tobias did throw a big party while we were there.” Having gathered the needed supplies, he lifted the paper towels and examined the gash on her elbow. “What about you? Let me guess… Mexico? Lake Havasu? Vegas?”

She shook her head as she also assessed her injury. “I was on scholarship. I couldn’t afford to go anywhere. But sophomore year, my roommate invited me to go with her to New York. She was a nanny for a super-rich family from L.A. They let her bring a friend since she was giving up her spring break to travel with them.” 

Standing between her legs, Ethan cleaned the wound. When Sawyer turned her head and flinched from the sting of the antiseptic, he leaned down and blew on her elbow. 

Sawyer snapped her head back to him. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers, memories of her time in the Hamptons with a handsome young stranger came rushing back. The stranger who traveled with three friends and whose roommate had a wealthy stepfather who owned a house on the water. A medical student at John Hopkins. A coffee snob with eyes the same color as the ocean.

“You– You didn’t say where you went for spring break,” she commented quietly.

Ethan stepped away to dispose of the bloody gauze and paper towels. His back was to her when he answered. “The Hamptons.”

When he turned around, he saw the realization dawning in her glassy eyes. 

Sawyer stared back at him for a moment. "Moondoggie?" she asked softly, her throat suddenly tight as she swallowed her choked-up tears.

Ethan smiled as he returned to the counter and rummaged through the first aid kit for the right size bandage. 

“You’re… it was… it was you?" she stammered, putting the puzzle pieces together. As he applied ointment to her wound, her mind wandered to the countless times he had lovingly kissed and caressed the barely there scar on her thigh. "Why haven't you ever said anything?" 

"It was complicated. You were an intern. I was an attending. Cracking that door open would have made it even harder to keep things professional.” 

"When exactly did you realize?" she wondered. 

"In the waiting room of the E.R. The moment I saw and called you over to help,” he admitted, tearing the wrapping away from the bandaid. 

“But you acted like you didn’t know me.” 

“I recognized you immediately. How could I ever forget these bewitching green eyes?” he said, his knuckles caressing her cheek. “I just didn’t know your name.”  

She held her tongue as he concentrated on placing the butterfly bandage just right. When he was done, Sawyer slugged him. 

“Ow! What was that for?” he moaned, rubbing his shoulder.

“We met. We had this incredible connection. Had a magical night together. And thennn, we meet again ten years later, unable to resist each other, and you still don’t believe in soulmates?!” 

Ethan shrugged. “You know I believe in science, not star charts. There’s a perfectly logical explanation–”

Sawyer shook her head and cut him off before he bored her to death with scientific reasoning. “Ethan… I can’t believe this… you were my… my–”

“Spring break hook-up?” he tried to finish for her.

“No… well yes, but you were my– my first.” 

He stopped what he was doing and looked her in the eyes. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah.”

“Well, clearly it was not very memorable,” he poked fun at himself as he started to move away and clean up.

Sawyer quickly grabbed his shirt and tugged him back. “Are you kidding?! I’ve never forgotten that night, Ethan. I never forgot how you made me feel,” she told him, wrapping her hands around his wrists to keep him close. “You know, the first time I saw a picture of you, I thought you looked like him. The guy I met on spring break. It was always at the back of my mind, but I figured it was just wishful thinking...” She trailed off, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “It's probably why I didn't recognize you as my medical hero when we saved that woman's life. Seeing you again short-circuited my brain," she chuckled. Locking eyes with him, her tone became more serious. "That guy from the beach was my dream guy. I’ve never forgotten him and I compared everyone who came after to him.”

“Is that so?” he asked in a near whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yes.” Sawyer shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember right away. I suppose once I started to get to know you… once I found the real thing… I didn’t need to hold onto the memory of the dream guy anymore.” She locked her legs around his waist and her arms around his torso, drawing him as close as possible.  

“I see,” he said, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “Well, maybe if I play my cards right, I can be your first and your last.”

“Take me to the bedroom, Moondoggie,” she smiled. “You can be my first, last, and right now.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @zealouscanonindeer @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75 @socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz

[liaromancewriter]

New Year Wishes

Premise: New Year’s Day is a special time for making wishes that come true.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,435

A/N: Submission for @choicesjanuary2024 Day 1 writing exercise prompt; for @choicesholidays New Year and @choicesficwriterscreations holiday event. I'm using @choicesflashfics week 66, prompt 1.

Part 1: The Legend

The first snowflake fell, and with it, a new tradition began. Inside the mansion by the sea, Christmas decorations hung across the mantel. The star above the tree in the corner twinkled when the weak rays of a winter sun briefly shone through the window panes.

It was the first day of a new year, and the air was full of possibilities, like magic on a moonlit night. Flames crackled in the fireplace, spreading its warmth toward the family of four sitting by the hearth.

Four-year-old Cassie Valentine rubbed her sleepy eyes as she cuddled on her mother’s lap, content with the familiar scent and feel of her mom’s arms around her. When she heard a loud yawn, she squinted at her twin brother Max, who was similarly nestled against their father’s chest.

His blond hair was messy, flopping over his forehead; his face was practically hidden in their dad’s big arms. One green eye popped open as if sensing her gaze, and he smiled sleepily at her.

The twins protested when their parents removed them from their comfortable position and onto the shaggy rug in front of the fireplace. Cassie leaned into Max’s side, curling her legs beneath her, and yawned widely. She rested her face on her brother’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

She wasn’t sure why her parents had woken them up so early or carried them down to the family room. It wasn’t Christmas morning. She knew because Santa had already brought her and Max presents last week.

“Cass honey, wake up,” Daddy said gently, lifting her head and brushing his hand down her hair. “Your mom and I have a surprise for the two of you.”

The word ‘surprise’ made Max perk up and sit straight in attention.

“Do you know what today is?” Mommy asked, her eyes crinkled around the corners as she smiled.

They shook their heads, and she continued. “It’s New Year’s Day. Legend has it that if you make a wish, write it on a piece of paper and throw it into the fire, it will come true. Isn’t that right, Robert?”

“My old nanny told me it was so.” Cassie saw her father smile in a dreamy way she didn’t quite recognize. “And she was right. When I was your age, I wished for a life full of adventure. Then, one day, many years later, your mother spilled her drink on me. I haven’t been bored since.”

“Robert!” Mommy gasped in shock before throwing her head back in laughter and then leaning in to kiss him on the lips.

Cassie giggled, and Max groaned, making gagging sounds.

“Six years of adventure, my love,” Mommy said softly, resting her head on Daddy’s forehead. “Every day, I fall in love with every little thing that you do.”

Cassie watched her parents gaze into each other’s eyes and thought there must be something to this wish legend. And if Daddy was right, she was definitely wishing for a puppy.

Part 2: The Wish

Many years later, in an elegant condo overlooking Boston’s waterfront, Ethan Ramsey propped himself up on one elbow and leaned over his wife. He ran his finger down her cheek and brushed aside a wisp of hair that fell over her face.

“Time to wake up, love,” he murmured, watching as Cassie’s eyes drifted open.

The fogginess gradually disappeared, dreams faded and reality intruded.

“What time is it?” she asked, yawning.

“Almost eight,” he said, his lips tracing the slope of her shoulder.

The strap of her nightgown slid down her arm, almost baring her breast, and he peppered kisses along her exposed collarbone.

“We don’t have time for you to seduce me,” she protested, even as a moan escaped her lips when his hands eased the bodice down to expose her breasts to his heated gaze and pushed the gown lower.

“I’ll be quick,” he said, covering her body with his and nudging her thighs apart with his knee.

Ethan snagged her bottom lip between his teeth and nipped it before slanting his lips over hers. He’d just started to kiss his way down her body when he heard the sound of running feet.

Ethan barely had time to throw the covers on top of Cassie’s naked body when the bedroom door slammed open.

“It’s Wish Day! It’s Wish Day!”

Their five-year-old twin daughters, Sophie and Eloise, rushed in, singing the words excitedly at the top of their lungs.

“Daddy, you’re not wearing a shirt!” Sophie giggled.

“Girls, what have we said about knocking?” Ethan swung his legs off the bed to sit up and glared at them over his shoulder.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Cassie wriggle under the covers and then ease her back up against the headboard, the silky straps of her nightgown back in place.

“Knock first, wait for an answer and then enter,” they parroted the oft-repeated words while gazing innocently at him.

“And did you do that now?” Cassie asked, lips twisting in a half-smile as her eyes met Ethan’s exasperated expression.

“We forgot,” they said with a pout.

They launched themselves on the bed before Ethan could scold them further and started jumping up and down.

“B’sides, it’s Wish Day, Daddy,” Eloise giggled as she crashed into her sister. “It’s tra…trad…,” she stumbled over the words, “tratidition.”

“Tradition,” Ethan corrected automatically, padding into the walk-in closet.

He thought privately that his daughters were just as stubborn about celebrating traditions as their mother.

“Mommy, get up. We’ve been waiting forever to make our New Year wishes!” Sophie’s laughter mingled with her sister’s as they both bounced higher.

“Not too high, girls,” Cassie called out worriedly. “Ethan?”

Ethan returned to the bedroom, tugging a tee shirt over his head and down. He grabbed Eloise mid-bounce and then Sophie, holding each girl under his arms as if carrying a football.

They giggled when he adjusted his stance to accommodate their weight, jostling them in the process.

Cassie shook her head at their antics and shoved aside the covers to climb off the bed. She reached for the robe folded on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, and his eyes locked on the top of her breasts framed enticingly between the vee of her gown’s neckline.

She caught his stare and arched one brow. “To be continued tonight?”

After a quick glance at their daughters, now preoccupied with whispering to each other, he smirked.

“I’ll get them settled while you freshen up. Don’t take too long or…,” Ethan grinned lasciviously, scanning her from chest to crotch, “…else.”

Almost twenty minutes later, the four of them settled in front of the fireplace. Ethan wrapped one arm around Cassie’s shoulder while hers slid around his waist. The twins were nestled between them, their tiny bodies practically vibrating with excitement.

“Ready to make your New Year wish?” Cassie asked.

Eloise looked questioningly at her sister. Sophie nodded in confirmation. They both turned around and stared at their parents. Ethan noted their thoughtful expression and wondered what that was about.

“If we both make the same wish, does it come true twice?” Eloise asked.

“We want a dog,” Sophie piped in.

Ethan grinned when Cassie muttered, “Get in line” under her breath.

He knew a puppy had been on her wish list for years. In fact, if he recalled the tale correctly, it was her first wish when Robert and Olivia started the annual New Year wishes tradition.

“Why don’t you send the wish into the fireplace? You never know when the universe will grant your wish,” he added, keeping his face neutral when Cassie hissed, “Hogwash!”

“It might take years,” Eloise said, angling her head sideways as if lost in thought.

“Just like it took forever and ever for Grandpa Robbie to get his wish when he met Grandma Livvy,” Sophie added excitedly. “El, we’re getting a dog for sure!”

“And another tradition continues,” Cassie laughed as the girls babbled excitedly while scribbling their wishes on paper.

Ethan rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Times like this, they’re more Valentine than Ramsey.”

“I disagree,” Cassie snorted, laughter in her eyes. “But then I’m biased since I fell in love with a Ramsey.”

Ethan gently grasped her chin and lifted her face to gaze into her eyes. His mouth lowered and captured her lips in a tender, heart-wrenching kiss, losing himself in the magic of the moment.

Eloise and Sophie stopped writing to watch their parents kissing, shared a furtive glance and silently giggled. Forget the dog. Maybe they would get a brother instead.

-----------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer

[ibrithir-was-here]

Its almost 2 AM. And instead of sleep I wrote Baby Dream AU drabble, cuz Calliope only graces me in her time zone I guess. Might be a part two. Anyway here ya go xD

Baby Dream Drabble (part 1?)

Jessamy was a raggedy, much mended, button eyed stuffed raven. She was Morpheus's only friend, and he loved her more than anything in the world. 

Teleute had given Jessamy to him on his first birthday, though of course he didn't remember that.

She'd made Jessamy with her Gift. He knew that, even if he didn't know how. He didn't really know how any of their Gifts worked. He just knew that they all had them.

Portos could See, 

Teleute could Give--and Take Away

And he could Dream

The others were too small yet for their gifts to be clear. Olethros was just four, the twins were barely  two, and baby Euphoria hasn't even reached a full year yet. 

But Morpheus thought Portos already knew what their Gifts would be. After all, he had been the one to give them all their names, though he was only ten himself. He'd looked with seemingly unseeing eyes at each one of his siblings as they'd lain blinking up at him, hours old, and had Seen the shape of who'd they become, the outline of their life written out like a page within a great book that only he could read. 

That was how he'd explained it to Morpheus anyhow.

The explanation seemed to be enough for Mother and Father as well. They'd just nodded and agreed, and then handed the newly named child off to their nanny, free now to pursue their own interests within the scope of their own Gifts, until those interests crossed to include each other again, in which case another child was added to the Aterenus family.

Another small bassinet to line the nursery, which would become a small bed within a few years, shuffled over to make room for another small bassinet. Each one set up and left to the care of the nanny who'd been taken on that month. 

They never stayed long. They found the house too lonesome to abide,  the masters too difficult to appease, and the children too strange to love.

The children learned to make due.

Portos spent his time wandering the gardens of the estate, keeping out of everyone's way, his fingers tracing over his books. 

Morpheus, at six, wasn't technically allowed in the library, but sometimes he managed to sneak in, and when he did he'd pour over the pictures of every book he could reach. He didn't understand all of the words, but he'd make up stories around the pictures and the words he could read, whispering them allowed to Jessamy. 

Teleute, always the most outgoing of the three eldest siblings, and though she was only eight and the nanny should have been watching, she managed to always find a way out of the  manor house and out into "the real world" as she called it, though it was only the local village. 

She would come back with tales of such fantastic things as shops and cinemas and other children to play with, children who were called home at last by mothers who smiled and fathers who laughed and hugged them close. 

Morpheus drank in her stories like he was someone's dying of thirst.

And at night he'd Dream of them.

The shops and cinemas and happy children with happy parents. As vibrantly and fully as he could. And for a few hours each night he'd wrap himself in a bubble of warmth that he'd never felt in the waking world.

Sometimes he'd even be able to pull bits out from the dreams. Only little things though. A wrapper fromna sweet he'd never tasted, a  stub from  a film he'd never seen, a flower from a feild he'd never played in.

He never could seem to pull out the big things. The friends, the smiling families, the warm feelings.

He thought perhaps, if he could see them once himself, in truth, then maybe the next time he Dreamed them he could make them real.

If he could see them just once, he knew he could. 

That was how one day he'd found himself, Jessamy in tow as always, ducking through the underbrush, scrambling through the hole in the fence Teleute had told him of, and running as fast as his small legs could carry him down to the village. Towards sunshine and smiles and maybe even a friend who could speak back to him. 

He got to the bottom of the hill when the men in the dark car grabbed him.

They put something on his mouth that muffled his scream and made him feel strange and sleepy--and when he did sleep he didn't dream.

When he finally woke, feeling sick and fuzzy, he was somewhere dark and cold and hard. There was a strange painted circle around him, and that made him feel more sick and fuzzy. 

There were people all around him also, and their shadowed faces were as cold and hard as the room they were crowded in. 

The man they called Mr. Burgess was the hardest and coldest of all. He shouted at the others for "grabbing the wrong one" and several other things about the difficulty of spells and alignments and other things Morpheus didn't understand.

And then he'd started shouting at Morpheus.

He wanted to know what he could do, what his Gift was, what he was good for. 

Morpheus didn't answer. He was too afraid to. In case his Gift was not what they wanted. In case it was.

He wasn't supposed to tell people about his Gift. None of them were. It was one of the few things his parents had ever told him, besides to stop bothering them. Never let anyone know what he and his siblings could do. They would be in terrible trouble if they ever did. People would do horrible things to them if they found out about their Gifts. 

Morpheus didn't want to know what could be more terrible than being in this place, with these people.

So he kept quiet. He kept quiet for three days. He thought it was three anyway, it might have been more. He couldn't tell, here in the darkness.

He kept quiet, and ate the little food they gave him and drank the little water, and hugged Jessamy to him tightly when he got too hungry and didn't want to cry, for fear he wouldn't be able to stop.

He felt like that more and more often. 

Each day Mr. Burgess came down to yell at him. To yell and demand and threaten. And Morpheus felt fear locking his mouth shut tighter with every horrible word that spilled from the man's mouth. And he spent each night cowering from nightmares of the man; towering over him as he shrank smaller and smaller, chasing after him in the darkness, locking him in a glass bubble with no air, suspended naked for all to see. 

And on the third or fourth or seventh day, Mr. Burgess snatched Jessamy out of Morpheus's arms.

And he tore her into pieces.  

He dumped the pieces outside of the painted circle, where Morpheus couldn't reach them. He could only stare, thick, silent tears running down his thinning cheeks as he stared at the tatters that had been his only friend. 

He thought, dimly, that he didn't think he could talk now even if he wanted to.

And he didn't want to. He didn't want to do anything but be somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away. 

Somewhere warm, and safe. Where Mr Burgess couldn't be. Where there would be softness instead of hard stone, and enough to eat, and…and…

Morpheus curled up on the stone, as tightly as he could, and let his mind drift off. He hadn't tried to Dream, properly Dream, the whole time he'd been here. Worried his Dreaming might give his gift away, worried it would make things worse.

He didn't think things could get worse now.

At least if he Dreamed, he might see Jessamy again.

If he was very lucky, maybe he wouldn't even wake up.

And so he let the Dream wrap around him, hoping that wherever it took him, it would never end

***

It was the smell of pancakes that woke him.

He didn't really wake of course. Morpheus could tell he was in a dream, he always could. But in the dream he was waking up, and there was warmth and softness all around him. 

A pillow and mattress beneath him, a blanket tucking him in. Both more comfortable than anything he'd ever had at home. More colorful too. As he blinked open his eyes, Morpheus saw a room filled with a galaxy swirl of color. The walls were covered in bright paper, the ceiling in little plastic stars, something his parents would never have allowed in the nursery lest they peel the paint. 

 The windows were a riot of color, stained glass that the warm sunlight filtered through to send a rainbow down onto Morpheus's equally star-covered blanket. 

And there were toys. 

Toys of all shapes and sizes and descriptions, in bright and cheery colors, scattered on shelves and in woven baskets and some simply scattered on the floor, another afront his parents would never have stood for, though Morpheus couldn't remember the last time they'd actually been inside the nursery. 

In permeating it all was the wonderful smell of pancakes, coming through the door on the other end of the room.

Slowly, afraid that at any moment he'd take a wrong step, trip over a toy and take a tumble and wake with a jolt back in his waking nightmare, Morpheus tip-toed his way across the floor, the starry blanket pulled about his shoulders, determined to keep its warmth about him as long as he could.

He took a breath, turned the handle, and walked into a large open room. There was a comfortable looking , a few bookcases filled with interesting looking books, and a television set turned off, but a radio was playing somewhere.

And at the far end it opened into a kitchen space, where a man stood, his back turned to Morpheus, flipping pancakes and humming along with the radio. 

Morpheus stopped in his tracks, frozen at the sight of the towering adult. He was broad and strong looking, with longer hair than Morpheus had seen on a man, with a reddish tint to it that reminded Morpheus of his father's hair. He wondered how loud this man could yell, how hard he could hit. 

Morpheus gulped, took a step back. wondered if it was too late to sneak back into the wonderful bedroom, lock the door and hope he wouldn't be noticed. If he was very very quiet he could probably get away and--

And right then his stomach gave an almighty rumble. 

It would have been loud in the waking world, in a dream it practically echoed.

Morpheus froze up like a deer in headlights, hunger displaying as icy fear flooded his stomach as the man froze, and then turned…

The warmest, softest, kindest eyes Morpheus had ever seen settled on him, widening in surprise for a moment and then crinkling up into a happy welcoming smile.   

Morpheus had never known that people could smile with their eyes.

"Hullo"  The man said, crouching down to get on eye level with Morpheus, "Who might you be then?"

Morpheus opened his mouth to answer--and then shut it again, looking down at his feet as he felt his cheeks flush under the attention.  He hadn't  spoken much to adults even before he'd been taken, afraid of hearing once more that he needed to be quiet, to get out of the way. He'd never had someone approach him like this, on his level instead of towering over him.

It was strange and disconcerting and…and nice.

And yet he still couldn't make himself speak. He'd gone so long without using his voice by now that he was almost afraid of what he'd hear if he tried. 

But he knew if he didn't say something the man would start to get angry. He'd start to yell and then then--

Morpheus felt his chest tightening again, his throat felt thick even as he tried to summon up something, anything to say before the tears burning at the edges of his eyes could fall.

"Hey hey, it's alright"

The man's soft voice broke through the ice of Morpheus's panic like the sunshine of Spring thawing a frozen lake, its soothing tones sinking down into him, pulling him up from the depths he'd been sinking into.

"Bit shy? That's alright then. Suppose it's rude of me to ask before I've even introduced myself."

He held out a hand, slowly, so that Morpheus wasn't even startled into thinking it was coming towards him.

"I'm Hob, Hob Gadling. Would you like some pancakes then, little dream?"

Morpheus looked at the man, Hob's, hand, open in invitation, held steady, not gearing up for a slap. He looked at his warm smile, his kind eyes. And for the first time in more days than he knew, Morpheus felt warm all through.

He reached out his own hand, and placed it cautiously in Hob's. It curled over, dwarfing his small one, cupping it gently but not squeezing, not trapping in anyway. And Morpheus nodded his head. Yes, he would love some pancakes. He was so, so hungry.

Hungry for food and warmth and the kindness in Hob's face, a kindness he didn't think he'd ever seen till now, had never known could exist outside of his older sister and the comforting softness of his lost Jessamy.

Hob's smile became even brighter, and he gently, so gently, took Morpheus's hand as he led him to the table, where a plate of steaming, golden pancakes lay, stacked and waiting.

"Well come on then, I'd love the company. Stay as long as you'd like"

Morpheus wondered if he could stay forever.

***

When Hob Gadling woke up that morning, there were tears in his eyes, and a smile on his face.

He'd long since gotten used to the tears.

But it had been a long while since he'd woken up smiling.

Not since Eleanor, not since Robyn…

The little dream boy--he hadn't looked like Robyn at all. Dark where Robyn had been fair, quiet when he's never been able to get Robyn to stop talking.

He wished now he'd never tried.

But he was glad all the same, of the chance to be there for a child again, to make food to share, to read a silly picture book with ridiculous rhymes while the small dream boy had curled up next to him, wide eyed over some silly simple story Hob couldn't even recall now.

It had been a silly simple dream too. He'd played silly simple games and made silly stupid jokes he hadn't played or made in years and though the dream child hadn't laughed, he had finally smiled. And oh, it was such a sweet little smile, it lit up his whole face.

And he'd gotten to tuck a child in for bed once more, in a room that certainly did not exist in his real flat but fit so perfectly into his dream one, just as the dream child had seemed to fit perfectly into his existence as well, filling a space he'd long tried to avoid remembering was empty.

Hob hoped he'd dream the same dream again. He wouldn't mind seeing the sweet little dream child again.

He never expected to start dreaming it every night.

[nanawritesit]

SingleDad!Mingi x Nanny!Fem!Reader (NSFW/ 18+/ MDNI)

A/N: No one requested this but I had a dream about dilf Mingi last night and I HAD to process it SOMEHOW. I’ll put a warning above the smut if you just want the fluffy parts. But if you’re like me and have raging daddy issues, you’ll love it all :)

TW: female reader with she/her pronouns, reader is afraid of thunderstorms, cursing

NSFW TW: making out, groping, grinding/ dry humping, nicknames such as “sir, good girl, naughty girl, baby girl, little girl, princess,” oral sex (giving and receiving,) nipple play, marking up, hair pulling, fingering, protected intercourse

—————

You never wanted to be the kind of girl who would hook up with her boss. Especially when it was the father of the two adorable twins you looked after. But Song Mingi was simply irresistible. He had a way of flustering you and making you feel safe. And it was all because of that stupid thunderstorm.

It was late at night, and the kids were fast asleep in their rooms. You were sitting on the couch, waiting for Mr. Song to come home so you could leave. His job meant that he was working most of the day, so everyday you would pick them up from school and spend time with them until they went to bed. You also watched them on the weekends and whenever Mr. Song was away on a business trip.

The kids were crazy about you. They saw you more than their own father, so you were practically a mother to them. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t attached to them as well. You tried not to get too close to the families you worked for, but something about these kids just tugged at your heartstrings.

You and Mr. Song got along great as well. He was always so grateful for your help taking care of his kids. The two of you weren’t very close, but your conversations were always pleasant. Plus, he was very handsome. You didn’t want to admit it, but he always made you weak in the knees when he came home in a suit, his hair all tousled, his rings and chain glimmering in the dim light.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a bright flash of light coming through the window. It was followed by a loud booming noise, one that made you jump up in your seat.

“Oh great.” you said to yourself. “A thunderstorm.”

It had been raining pretty hard, but you were still holding out hope that it wouldn’t result in a storm. Why couldn’t it have waited until after Mr. Song came home? Then you could go home and hide away under your bed like you always did when there was thunder.

You gripped the hem of your shorts anxiously, biting your lip as you thought about what to do. The storm looked pretty horrible. You tried to do a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“Mr. Song will be here any minute…” you whispered to yourself.

And soon he was. You jumped at the sound of the front door swinging open behind you, turning around to see him entering the house.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” he chuckled, setting down his umbrella to remove his coat.

“It’s okay, I’m just a little jumpy.” you laughed nervously. “How was work?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “The usual. A slew of boring meetings and compromising with people I have to pretend I like.” He hung his coat up and slipped off his shoes. “How were the kids today?”

“The usual as well. They were little angels.” you told him.

“I find that hard to believe.” he scoffed humorously. “Then again, they always listen to you more than they listen to me. You’re so good with them.”

You couldn’t help the light blush that crept its way up your cheeks. Something about Mr. Song praising you made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside. You looked down at your lap with a bashful smile, then continued with the conversation.

“Minsu got an A on his spelling test today. The teacher told me he’s one of the smartest kids in his class.”

“Oh really? That’s amazing. I’ll have to tell him how proud of him I am at breakfast tomorrow.” he said with a warm smile. “What about Minji?”

“She didn’t have any tests today, but she had a lot of fun in art class.” you smiled, running a hand through your hair. “She actually made you a painting, it’s hanging up on the fridge.”

He walked into the kitchen to look at it. “Oh…” he sighed affectionately, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s the four of us, isn’t it?”

“M-hm.” you nodded. “I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be all of us at the aquarium we went to last weekend.”

“I’m so glad I got to go with you guys.” Mr. Song mused as he opened up the fridge to grab his usual bottle of wine. “I don’t get to spend nearly as much time with them as I’d like. You’ve really helped me get closer to my kids. I appreciate you a lot.”

There he went again, making you feel all giddy inside. You looked away momentarily in embarrassment, then moved to stand up. “Well I suppose I should-“

You were cut off again with a flash of lightning and a loud crash of thunder. It made you squeak and clutch your chest. Mr. Song chuckled at you.

“My, you are quite jumpy tonight.” he stated, setting down the bottle to walk into the living room. He stopped in front of the large glass window. “That storm looks pretty bad though… I don’t want you driving in that. Why don’t you stay the night here?”

Your heart stopped. You were completely frozen for a moment, then shook your head and laughed anxiously. “Mr. Song, that’s very kind of you, but I couldn’t possibly intrude…”

“You wouldn’t be intruding, I’m inviting you to stay.” he replied, putting his hands on his hips sternly. “I’m not letting you drive home when the weather is this bad. You can have my bed, I’ll stay on the couch.”

“No!” you cried out impulsively. He was taken aback by your outburst. You forced out another awkward laugh before explaining yourself. “I mean, I couldn’t take your bed. Please, I’d rather sleep on the couch.” There was no way you could handle sleeping in your hot boss’s bed. It would smell like him, and your imagination would run wild.

“Okay, whatever makes you comfortable. As long as you stay here.” he sighed defeatedly, but gave you another warm smile. “I’m not very tired yet though. Would you mind if I stayed down here for a bit?”

Yes, I would. “No, not at all Mr. Song. I’m not very tired either.”

“Great, I’ll fix you a glass of wine. And please, call me Mingi.” he humored, walking back to kitchen. “How about you find something for us to watch on TV? Just keep the volume low, I don’t want to wake the twins up.”

You exhaled a long and slow breath. You were shaking like a leaf. Get it together Y/N. It’s just a terrifying stormy night, where you’re trapped in the same house as your extremely attractive boss. Nothing is going to happen.

After you picked out a decent movie, you looked over your shoulder at him in the kitchen. He had removed his suit jacket, the sleeves of his white button-down shirt rolled up as he poured the wine. God, he was so sexy.

You quickly turned your head back to the TV as he picked up the glasses to bring them to you. “There we go…” he said, handing you one. “To the storm.”

“To the storm.” you chuckled, clinking your glasses. As the wine went down your throat, it did relax you a bit. Hopefully it would calm your nerves, and you wouldn’t have a complete anxiety attack over the thunder.

He took a seat next to you. You grabbed a fluffy blanket and curled up into it, using it for security. Not only were you scared of the storm, but being so close to Mingi was giving you butterflies in your stomach.

You watched the movie in a comfortable silence, except for the little comments and laughs you’d share with each other. Suddenly, another boom of thunder sounded off, this one particularly loud.

You reflexively hid your face in the blanket, coiling up defensively. Damnit, you made a complete fool of yourself Y/N.

“Y/N, are you… afraid of thunderstorms?” he asked, setting down his glass.

“No… I was just… startled, that’s all.” you lied. You pulled the blanket down under your eyes. He was looking at you with such genuine concern. You felt a twinge in your chest.

“You’re trembling, dear…” he observed, reaching a hand toward you. You froze as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I can tell you’re scared. It’s okay to be afraid.”

You sighed defeatedly. “Okay, I’ve been scared of thunderstorms ever since I was little. I usually just hide under my bed until they go away.”

“Awh, that’s horrible…” he said sympathetically. He held his arm out to you. “Here, why don’t you move closer to me? It might help you feel better.”

You tossed the idea around in your head. On one hand, cuddling up to Mingi would make you less scared of the storm. On the other hand, being so close to him was also terrifying. Just as you were about to protest, another crash sounded, and you instinctively jumped into his arms, burying your head in his chest.

“Well, I guess that answers that question.” he chuckled, patting your back comfortingly. “It’s okay, nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

You squinted your eyes, furious with yourself for acting so childish. You pulled back a bit to look up at him. “I’m sorry, I just get so anxious whenever there’s thunder.”

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re all scared of something.” he reassured. He threw an arm around your shoulder and gestured for you to lean in. “Just let me hold you. I’ll keep you safe.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief at the comfort that washed over you. You leaned your head back against his chest, inhaling the smoky, spiced scent of his cologne. The way he was running his hands through your hair was putting you in a trance, and for a second you completely forgot there was a storm.

——— SMUT CUT ———

“Oh, that’s a good girl...” he praised. “The thunder went off again and you didn’t even flinch. You’re doing such a good job.”

Your cheeks heated up at his comment. Why did it feel so good to have him praise you? You pressed your knees together as an act of self control and partly because you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

“Oh did it? I guess… I didn’t notice.” you laughed nervously, glancing over at the window. You shifted out of his hold to sit up and grab your wine glass, taking a few more sips. “Thank you so much… for comforting me, and for letting me stay here.”

“Of course dear, anytime.” he smirked, sitting up a bit as well.

You set your glass down and undid the claw clip in your hair, shaking it out over your shoulders. He crossed his legs and locked his eyes onto you for a good while.

“What?” you chuckled, turning towards him.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked flatly.

Your mouth fell open a bit at his bold question. You breathed out an airy chuckle and clicked your tongue. “Nope, no one seems to be interested in me.”

“Really?” he baffled, brow furrowed in shock. “I would not have expected that.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.

“Are you kidding me Y/N?” he snickered, leaning towards you. “You’re a very beautiful young woman. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

You gave him a wide smile, feeling more comfortable accepting his praise now. You were also starting to feel a bit bolder.

“Thank you Mingi… you’re not so bad looking yourself.”

“Me?” he gasped, sarcastically pointing at himself. “Nah, there’s no way.”

“I mean it.” you retorted, shooting a seductive gaze at him. “You’re a very good looking man. Incredibly sexy.”

Oh my god. You did not just say that to your boss, Y/N! You thought to yourself, internally panicking. But on the exterior, you remained cool, a playful smirk plastered on your face.

“Oh really?” he asked in a low grumble. He leaned closer to you at a painfully slow pace. “Well I happen to think you’re incredibly sexy as well…” He brought a hand up to your cheek. “Look at you, in that tight tank top and those teeny tiny shorts…” He glanced down, raking his eyes over your body. “It’s enough to make a man forget himself.”

You giggled innocently, then put a hand on his thigh. “It’d be alright with me if you did. Sir.”

That seemed to make him lose all his reserve, as he brought his other hand up to your hair and pressed his lips against yours. It was such a delicate kiss, you were almost surprised at how gentle he could be.

He pulled back slowly, forehead rested against yours. “Such soft, pretty lips…” he observed, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “I don’t think I can restrain myself any longer.”

A playful grin made its way onto your face, then you threw your arms up over his shoulders to pull him into another, much rougher kiss. You began devouring each other, lips growing red and swollen, tongues pressed against each other.

You pulled back for a second, making him furrow his brow in confusion. It soon faded away though when you swung a leg over his lap to straddle him.

The corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. “What a naughty girl…” His lips were back on yours in an instant, his hands now rested on your hips, gripping onto them tightly. You ran your fingers up into his hair, giving it little tugs as you began to grind down against his crotch.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs.” he huffed, practically gasping for air. You nodded, about to stand up, but to your surprise he just picked you up in his arms and folded your legs around his waist, carrying you up the stairs quietly.

Once you reached his room, he locked the door behind him and set you down on the bed, crawling overtop of you to kiss you once again. You clamped your legs up around his waist, grinding desperately for some friction.

“Oh, you poor little girl, you’re so needy…” he teased, looking down at you affectionately. The way his chain was dangling down over your face was driving you insane. “You’ve never been taken care of by a real man before, have you?”

You shook your head, gazing up at him with doe eyes. “No, I haven’t.”

“Well, lucky for you…” he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I’m about to change that.” He began kissing your neck, grazing his teeth against the soft flesh and running his tongue up along the sides. His hot breath was making your toes curl, and you couldn’t help the light airy moans that spilled from your lips as you threw a hand up in his hair.

“That’s right, sing for me princess…” he demanded, smirking against your skin. “Do you want me to take care of you?”

“Yes…” you breathed out, gripping tightly onto his dark brown locks.

“Ah-ah…” he reprimanded, pulling back. “Yes what?”

“Yes sir.” you corrected yourself in a pouty whine.

“That’s a good girl.” he praised. He reached down to fiddle with the bottom of your tank top. “This looks uncomfortable, do you mind if I take it off of you?”

You shook your head, and in an instant he was pulling it off over your head, messing your hair up in the process.

“These don’t look very comfortable either, I might as well take them off too while I’m at it…” he stated, unbottoning your shorts and sliding them down your legs. He leaned back to look at you sprawled out underneath him, now clad in just your bra and panties.

“Fuck…” he huffed, looking you all over. “You’re breathtaking.”

You giggled, wrapping a leg around his waist to pull him back in. His lips clamped back down on your neck, this time much more roughly. You were sure you’d have hickeys tomorrow. But all you could focus on was the way his lips trailed down lower and lower, stopping at your collarbone.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, glancing up at you.

“Yes sir…” you practically whispered, frozen in anticipation.

He turnt his attention back to your chest, reaching up to grope one of your breasts. He moaned the tiniest bit as he squeezed his large hand around it, then leaned back down to kiss the top of your chest. He began marking it up as he continued groping your breast, soon moving his lips down to the sensitive flesh above the cup of your bra.

“Sit up for me, princess.” he grunted, and you obeyed. He snaked his dominant hand up behind your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall down your shoulders before tossing it over his shoulder. Once it was out of the way, he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it gently. He groped the other breast simultaneously, making you wriggle desperately underneath him.

“Sir, please…” you whimpered. “I need more.”

He looked up at you with a sly expression. “Awh, you need to be more patient sweetheart. I was just about to give it to you, but now I think I’ll have to tease you some more.”

“No please!” you begged pathetically, twitching your legs in frustration. “Please sir, I need you so bad…”

He chuckled coldly, then brought his forefinger down to rub against your clothed pussy. You threw your head back at the sudden contact, slightly ashamed at how worked up you were over the slightest touch from him.

“Oh baby, I’m hardly touching you, and look what a mess you are…” he humored, still looming overtop of you. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle my cock?”

“Please sir, I want you inside of me so bad…” you pleaded, reaching down to clutch his wrist. “I’ll do anything, anything at all…”

“Oh? Anything?” he chuckled, glancing down at your lips. He ran his thumb over them before staring into your eyes intensely. “Get on your knees.”

You immediately jumped up and got down on the floor, staring up at him expectantly.

“Such an obedient girl…” he smiled, standing up in front of you. He looked even taller from this angle. “I’ll give you exactly what you want, but you’re gonna have to earn it first.” He reached down to unbutton his shirt, then took it off completely. You gasped at the sight of his toned physique. You always suspected he was incredibly built under all those suits, but you never knew his body was this fine.

He reached down to unbuckle his belt, sliding it off his waist before unbuttoning his trousers. You watched him intensely, waiting on every move he made. He undid his zipper, sliding his trousers down to reveal his tight black boxers. You glared at his bulge hungrily, having to restrain yourself from licking your lips.

“Are you going to be a good girl and suck me off?” he asked, palming himself through his boxers.

You nodded up at him. “Yes sir.”

He smirked, then hooked his fingers into his waistband to pull his boxers down. His cock sprung out eagerly, rock hard in anticipation. You couldn’t help but feel proud knowing that you had worked him up so bad.

You wasted no time, wrapping both hands around the base as you licked all along the tip and down the shaft, getting him all nice and wet. You went back up to the top and sunk down onto his cock with your mouth. He threw his head back with a groan as you began sucking and bobbing your head up and down.

“Fuck, princess….” he huffed, putting both hands in your hair to guide you along. “Your mouth feels so good…”

You hummed in reply, sending a shiver up his spine from the vibrations.

“Look up at me. Let me see those big, pretty eyes.” he demanded. You obliged, and his breath hitched in his throat. “Oh, look at you…” His breathing was growing heavier, his lips parted slightly.

You went deeper and deeper down his cock, struggling to fit all of it in your mouth. The more of him you took in, the louder his moans became.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum…” he exclaimed, pulling on your hair. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

And you didn’t, continuing to bob your head back and forth, whimpering with every stroke.

“Fuck!” he cursed, coming undone in your mouth. You tried to catch all of it in your mouth, jerking him off with your hand as he finished. He moaned airily with every rope of cum he shot into your mouth. When he was done, he smirked down at the sight of you swallowing all of it.

“That was incredible, princess.” he exhaled, tilting your chin up to look at him. “You did such a good job, I’m so proud of you. You deserve a reward.”

You smiled happily, and he pulled you up to lay you back down on the bed. He pulled your panties all the way down your legs and tossed them to the side, then dove down to kiss the inside of your thighs.

“Oh, you’re so wet for me baby…” he chuckled, hovering above your core. The way his breath was fanning it made you twitch underneath him. He leaned in slowly, then attached his lips to your clit, giving it little flicks of his tongue and sucking it ever so gently.

Just the slightest contact made you throw your head back and cry out in pleasure. “Oh sir, yes!”

You could feel him smile into your pussy, and he began licking long stripes along your slit, lapping up all of your sweet nectar. He continued his assault on your clit, circling it with his tongue. Soon, he brought two of his long fingers up and gently pressed them up into your needy cunt. The cold metal of his rings made you gasp, but the feeling was addicting.

“Oh God, you’re so tight…” he growled, beginning to pump his digits in and out of you. He brought his tongue back down to your clit to stimulate it in time with his fingers.

“Oh yes sir, just like that…” you moaned, bringing a hand up to your mouth to lower your volume. His tongue was doing things you’d never felt before, and coupled with his fingers, which were now digging into the soft sponge of your g-spot, you could sense that you were about to come undone. But that wasn’t what you wanted.

“Sir, please… can I have you inside of me?” you begged.

“Silly girl, I’m already inside of you.” he teased, wiggling his fingers along your entrance. “You’ll have to tell me exactly what you want so I can give it to you.”

You sighed in frustration. “Can you please fuck me with your cock sir?”

He shot a sinister grin at you before crawling back up overtop of you. “Well, since you asked so nicely. Get on your hands and knees for me, baby girl.”

You smiled gratefully, then did as he asked. He stroked himself a few times, easily getting bricked up again at the sight of you bent over in front of him, then reached over to his nightstand to grab a condom. After sliding it on, he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock.

“Are you sure you can take it, princess?” he asked, putting a hand on your lower back.

“Yes, please! I need your cock so bad sir!” you exclaimed, feeling your pussy throb in preparation.

He let out a deep chuckle, then began pumping his cock into your pussy. You both whimpered at the initial sensation, you falling down onto the mattress slightly and him leaning over your back.

“Oh fuck, your pussy feels so good…” he moaned, gripping onto your hips tightly. He began to grope the plush of your ass, growling at how it squished up against the base of his torso.

You began to grind your hips in the same rhythm as his thrusts, desperate to have more of him inside of you. “Oh, fuck, yes! Fuck me sir, please fuck me harder!”

“Yeah? You want more?” he huffed, leaning down to talk into your ear. He brought a hand up to fondle one of your breasts. “I’ll give it to you.”

He slammed his hips into you even harder, making your arms give out underneath you. Your back was now fully arched up into your hips, and you were desperately gripping the sheets in your hands as he fucked you from behind.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back up. “Awh, is it too much for you baby girl?” he pouted with false sympathy. “I know you can take it. You’re doing so well.”

Suddenly, the tip of his cock began to bump against your cervix. You cried out at the mixture of pleasure and pain, seeing stars as you squinted your eyes shut.

You began to feel a knot form in your lower region. “Sir, I think I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

“Go ahead princess, cum for me.” he ordered.

With his blessing, you cried out and let the warm wave wash over you, sending shocks all throughout your lower region. You rode his cock all the way through your orgasm, until you could barely move anymore.

“Fuck baby, that was so hot…” he heaved, still slamming into you at a relentless pace. “I’m gonna cum again…”

You nodded underneath him, heaving with a satisfied smirk. “I want you to cum inside of me sir.”

As soon as you had finished the sentence, he was cursing and grunting from behind you. His nails were digging into your hips so hard you knew you’d have bruises tomorrow. He breathed out a whimpery sigh, then collapsed on top of you.

“God, that was amazing.” he whispered huskily into your ear. He then rolled off of your back to lay on his side next to you. You did the same and gave him a grin.

“I’ll say. I have no regrets.” you giggled.

He laughed along with you, then fixed your messy hair a bit. “How about you sleep in here with me tonight? The house is just so big, I don’t want you to get lonely.”

“I’d like that very much sir.” you replied.

“You can call me Mingi now, dear.” he snickered, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m so happy you stayed here tonight. I wish… no, nevermind...”

“No, what is it Mingi?” you asked, sitting up curiously.

He laughed at himself, a small blush forming on his cheeks as he looked down at his lap nervously. It was interesting to see him being the flustered one.

“I was going to say, I wish you could stay here all the time.” he confessed.

Your jaw unhinged, but you were smiling. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” he mused, grabbing your hand. “You can live here, with me. The kids already love you, and… I want you here with us for as long as possible.”

“Mingi, I have to work.” you giggled, intertwining his fingers with yours. “And if I find another job, then someone else will have to take care of the kids.”

“I’ll still pay you, but under the table.” he stated without hesitation. “Not as a nanny, but… as my girlfriend. I make more than enough money. You can think of it as me giving you money to take care of the kids.”

You marveled at him. “You mean, you’ll give me a full salary just to stay here with you?”

He nodded with a warm smile. “Yes, I would. Will you accept it?”

You acted as if you were deep in thought for a while, playing with his fingers. Then, you looked up at him and smiled. “I would love to be your girlfriend Mingi.”

He broke out into a huge grin, tackling you back down to the bed and kissing your cheeks over and over. “God, you make me so happy.” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “Who would’ve ever thought that I’d fall for my kids’ nanny?”

“Who would’ve ever thought I’d fall for my boss?” you joked back. “The agency isn’t gonna be too happy about it though.”

“Well yeah, they’re losing one hell of a nanny.” he smirked, ruffling your hair before sitting up. “Come on, let’s hop in the shower and then get some sleep. We’ll need to be well rested to give the good news to the twins tomorrow morning.”