#Celebrating an Affluent Year

[mymoviemania-coffee]

Joy of Life  庆余年 (2019)

(Qìng Yúnián; 慶餘年;  Thankful for the Remaining Years;  Celebrating an Affluent Year)

#joy of life #庆余年 #qìng yúnián #慶餘年 #thankful for the remaining years #Celebrating an Affluent Year #coffee #coffee scene #cdrama #zhang ruoyun #张若昀 #yuan quan #袁泉

[lisired]

supermodel

pairing: photographer!haechan x (f) model!reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, hollywood!au, photographer!haechan, model!reader, descriptions of vomiting, fluff, unsolicited comments, mentions of alcohol use (not while expectant)

summary: Five years ago, you left your hometown and ex to recreate your identity in California. Now, you're a staple of the fashion industry and on the front cover of magazines everywhere. Your hard work has paid off, but when you realize that you might be pregnant, you have to decide whether you want to be a full-time model or a full-time mother.

word count: 23k

a/n: at last, here she is! thank you for your patience, i know it was a long wait. this is a sequel to love jones. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Smiling from ear to ear, the giddy butterflies in the pit of your stomach just wouldn’t leave. Given that they’d been there for five years, it was safe to assume they never would. 

Five years of romance. To celebrate, you and your boyfriend decided on cooking your own dinner at home. Your boyfriend was not a qualified cook (a couple of incidents and he was strictly prohibited and sidelined from food preparation duties) which made the night both fun and a nightmare. 

When Haechan asked you for dinner suggestions, you were very adamant that you wanted lobster. Which surprised him, given that you’d been to a handful of seafood restaurants and you never expressed a taste for lobster, though he reckoned you wanted to be fancy for your five-year anniversary. 

“Baby,” you whined. “Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?”

“It’s hot because you’re here,” Haechan flirted in a heartbeat. Some things never changed. 

You rolled your eyes, whining, “Seriously. Aren’t you about to burn up? I feel like I’m going to die.”

“Only thing I feel like I might die of is hypothermia. If anything, it’s kinda cold to me, baby.”

You frowned, finding that questionably odd. You had already taken off his insulating leather jacket, left in nothing but a tank top, and you didn’t want to remove any other layers in fear of getting lobster juice all over yourself. Maybe it was a metabolism thing. 

Haechan pointed to your wine glass with his own. “Aren’t you going to drink that? You always want wine.”

Glancing down, you noticed your filled wine glass that you had hardly touched. Even when you were out celebrating with your agent and a couple of other staff, you declined the offer for wine. Your agent was shocked. She knew you loved to get wine drunk. “Not really in the mood.”

If your boyfriend thought that something was out of the ordinary, he didn’t say anything. 

After a while, you started to forget about your suspicious behavior. Time quickly lost its meaning as you chatted with Haechan, running your mouths like the two people who never shut up that you were. To this day you still perfectly matched each other’s energy. Five years down, a lifetime left to go. 

You were twenty-six now, Haechan twenty-eight. Though your grandmother liked to joke that you were catching up to her, sometimes you didn’t feel like you were pushing thirty. Notably when you were with Haechan. His ability to make you feel like a teenager in love needed to be studied.  

In those five years, not only had you developed your relationship with the love of your life, but you also made your name known within the industry. Of course, your success wasn’t without a couple of setbacks and near career-ending allegations, but you somehow came out on top in the end. 

Haechan also had a lucrative career. From being hired to take pictures of lowkey performers on tour to becoming a chief photographer with his own studio that worked with wealthy media moguls, he had obviously come extremely far. And he was only getting more popular amongst affluent patrons. 

All in the span of five years. You never would have guessed. Five years ago, you lived in a condo downtown. Now, you lived in a comfortable house with Haechan and you couldn’t be happier. 

Out of nowhere, you started to feel as if you were going to be sick. You stood from the table, muttering “bathroom” when your boyfriend tossed you a baffled look. 

Haechan let you be. He figured you just had to pee. You were doing that more often for whatever reason. 

Though you tried to be indifferent about the sudden involuntary motions in your stomach, you were quick to make a beeline for the bathroom in fear of vomiting all over the floor. 

You headed straight for the toilet and kneeled on the floor, bracing your hands on the seat while you retched and dry-heaved into the bowl. Your mouth felt almost painfully dry afterwards and all you could taste was the scorching feeling of bile. 

This was absolutely ridiculous and you didn’t understand what was happening to you. Though you weren’t particularly a fan of lobster, you could usually handle seafood. Maybe having Haechan help you cook wasn’t the smartest idea. 

Speak of the devil, he called from the other side of the door, “Baby, you good in there?”

“Uh, no,” you muttered just loud enough for his ears. 

Haechan’s voice sounded alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

Wincing at the sight of greenish-yellow vomit, you flushed the toilet and stood to vigorously wash your hands. “I kinda threw up.”

“What? Was it something you ate? Baby, I love your cooking, but I’ve been trying to tell you that all that butter is not good for your stomach.”

“I really don’t think that’s the problem,” you droned irritably. 

Haechan joked, “What - are you pregnant or something?”

Something about those words made you freeze right in the middle of drying your hands with paper towels. Pregnant, you realized. It was all coming back to you. Haechan fucked you raw not too long ago. And you couldn’t remember the last time you had a period. 

Silence was never a good thing for either of you and the worry was evident in Haechan’s voice. “Baby, you’re not actually pregnant. Right?”

Your eyes were wide as you exclaimed, “I don’t know!”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you said shakily. 

The door opened, Haechan revealing himself. He was quick to notice the panic on your face and grabbed your hand in his, crooning, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”

You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, exhaling one large puff of air. “Okay, remember I had my IUD removed?”

Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Uh huh.”

“And then I went off the pill because they were giving me migraines,” you added frantically. 

“Yeah, so we started using condoms.”

“Right,” you said, nodding your head. “But that one time we ran out…”

Haechan continued, “And you begged me to fuck you anyway?”

“That’s not the point,” you hissed. “The point is we had sex without a condom, I don’t remember having a period, and now I’m puking everywhere.”

“Well, if two plus two equals four…,” Haechan trailed. 

You snapped, “Can you be serious for once?”

Haechan grabbed your wrist, kissing the back of your hand tenderly to console you. “I am being serious. I think we should buy a pregnancy test or ten. Just to be certain.”

You reminded, “It’s late. All the pharmacies are closed.”

“Then, we go first thing tomorrow,” was Haechan’s solution. 

His touches were enough to ease your mind for a little. You nodded in acceptance, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. This was a frightening moment and you were glad that you weren’t alone. 

As soon as the following day, you and Haechan were on your way to a local pharmacy on his motorbike. His red motorbike, might you add. Though the sleek black one was directly involved in a number of good memories, one too many stunts had maimed her. You surprised him with another one for his birthday last year and he fell in love without a second thought. 

The pharmacy was busy at this hour. Though Haechan’s suggestion of getting ten pregnancy tests was somewhat dramatic, you did make sure to grab a couple packs of two. It was better to be safe than sorry, after all. 

You rushed to the bathroom the second you were back home, telling Haechan you would be back after a moment to tell him the results. You were clear that he waited outside the door. Your brain amassed hectic thought after hectic thought and it was driving you crazy. 

Over the next couple of minutes, you sat antsily on the toilet lid and waited. According to the instructions on the box, your fate would be decided in as little as a few minutes. If you waited too long, your results could display inaccuracies. 

You were just so scared. If you were pregnant, that could change everything. Your nerves were worked and you could feel the stress in your shoulders as much as you tried to feign a semblance of order. 

When the three minutes were up, you braced yourself with one big breath and found the courage to check the lines. 

You sucked in a breath. Not a single one was negative. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped. 

“What’s wrong?” Haechan asked frantically, leaning against the door. This was just as nerve-racking for him as it was for you. 

“They’re positive,” you exclaimed. “All four of them!”

That was Haechan’s cue to open the door, immediately grabbing a hold of you. You looked like your weight would drop to the floor any second now. “Okay, babe. Breathe,” he whispered. 

You braced your hands on the counter. “I can’t. This is too much.”

“Sit,” Haechan said, holding you steadily in his arms. Like hell he would let you go in a time like this. 

You sat on the fluffy toilet lid again, your head spinning. Nothing could describe how light your limbs felt in that moment. Or your head. 

“There’s a one percent chance they’re wrong,” Haechan told you in reminder. 

You shook your head. “Really? You think all four of them are wrong?”

Haechan took your tone in stride. “That’s not what I said. What I meant is I think you should contact your doctor. We can’t be too sure.”

Well, you couldn’t argue with that logic. It was the obvious thing to do. The second you calmed down enough to speak without shaky breath you called your health care provider and scheduled an appointment with your physician. 

In a couple of days, you met with your primary physician, Haechan insisting that he wanted to be there. You made no argument. This baby was his just as much as it was yours and he made it a point to remind you that he wanted to be a part of every second. 

For half an hour, the nurse's kind words in between constant beeps as she asked you for medical information was all you heard while your thoughts waged war. Even the faint chatter from the small TV mounted in the corner of the room didn’t register. 

Footsteps jolted you out of your thoughts for a moment and you were a little more at ease when your doctor finally entered the patient room. There was a fleeting, kind greeting and she recounted your concerns as you’d briefed them over the phone just to be sure she was correct. 

It was the most tense moment of your life. Had you not been holding Haechan’s fingers with one hand and bracing the chair with the other, you would have been chewing your nails. 

After a couple of non-invasive tests, a suspenseful few minutes, and a transvaginal prenatal ultrasound, it was concluded that you were seven weeks pregnant. The whole room was reeling. Your doctor told you that she would have to run a few scans to ensure that you weren’t exposed to a high-risk pregnancy, but you could decide within two weeks if you wanted to terminate through medication. 

Not only were you seven weeks pregnant, but seven weeks pregnant with dizygotic twins. Non-identical, your doctor explained. If you preferred, you could come back in three weeks to determine the sex. 

“Twins,” you rasped. “Two babies. Wow.”

Sitting in your car, you gripped the seatbelt with your life. Haechan insisted that you take your car instead of his bike considering that you were more than likely pregnant, and since he didn’t know the risks associated with pregnant mothers on a motorbike, he decided it was better to play it safe. 

Though your doctor revealed that minimum travel within the first few months of your pregnancy was generally not a threat unless you were going a lengthy distance. Much to your boyfriend’s happiness.  

It was quiet while you two sat in the parking lot, save for the Mark Lee song playing faintly on the radio. He was grammy-nominated now. 

There was a long pause before you could speak. Haechan was the same, looking paler than usual. You almost couldn’t breathe. Your head was still stuck in that neutral-toned hospital room and the scent of antiseptics still wafted through your nostrils. 

The whole parking lot was upside down as you fretted, “I’m pregnant. Oh my god. Wow. I’m pregnant!”

“Hey,” Haechan started, reaching over the center console and grabbing your hands in his. There was another pause before he continued speaking. “We’re pregnant.”

Your eyes flickered. Then, you burst into laughter. That was the last thing you expected him to say. 

Haechan was grinning, glad that he could make you laugh even if it was just for a moment. Your doctor was clear that stress was very harmful for the kids. “I’m serious!”

“Okay,” you replied. Though you were still giggling. “We’re pregnant.”

“You better know.”

You sighed, leaning against the door window. The ultrasound displayed not one, but two tiny embryos currently sharing your uterus. And they were only growing. 

Handing the ultrasound to Haechan, you let it all sink in, starting, “When I was twenty-one, pregnancy was the last thing on my agenda. Jae wanted to slow down, but I didn’t want to stop. I was just getting started. I mean, I still am, it’s only been five years.”

Haechan flinched at the mention of your ex. It was rare that you brought him up in conversation. For good reason. “And you’ve still accomplished so much.”

“Yeah, but I wanna accomplish more. If I have a baby, I have to take a break from the grind to be a mother. And god forbid I let somebody else raise my kids,” you grumbled. 

Haechan quickly saw what the problem was. “Okay, baby, stop. This isn’t the end. You’re pregnant, but that doesn’t mean you become my housewife and die. I wouldn’t ever try to put the brakes on you.”

“I know, but…���

“Listen,” he said. “We can always make more babies another time. Your life isn’t over.”

You huffed, “I have, like, four years before that ship sails and it’s in god’s hands.”

“Anything could happen in four years.”

You heaved another breath. “True,” you replied. Even two years from now you could decide that you wanted to settle down. 

It just felt like there was so much at stake. You were a model, for fuck’s sake. Very much a celebrity. Not only did you love your job and having two babies mean you would have less time to devote to yourself, but everyone would be watching them the same way they watched you. 

When you went out, there was guaranteed to be a camera not far behind. You couldn’t even get lunch with a friend without being borderline stalked wherever you went. Masks and disguises barely helped.

Anybody that was a friend of yours was a friend of the media. Your whole life was on the internet and there was always a magnifying glass being held close to your face. Every second of your life you were being examined and judged by people who didn’t even know you. Expectations were a constant weight on your shoulders. 

“If I have these kids, I don’t want them to grow up in the eyes of the media,” you started sternly. “I subject myself to judgment and scrutiny every day I step out of my house. Babies don’t deserve that.”

Haechan bobbed his head in agreement. “Then, I watch them. And if I’m busy, then we get a babysitter.”

You huffed, “And trust a stranger with our child?”

The look of horror on Haechan’s face immediately declined that offer. “I’ve got family here. We can pay my cousin or something. Look, baby, we’ll figure this out. Together.”

You squeezed his hand, stifling tears. There was so much weight on your heart. It was almost suffocating until you remembered that you weren’t alone.

For the next couple of weeks, you mulled the decision over. You didn’t tell anyone that you were pregnant - not even your grandmother or Haechan’s parents, who referred to themselves as your in-laws, even though you and Haechan weren’t married. 

That thought tickled something in your brain. Marriage, you hypothesized. And a family. Deep down inside, it was something you always wanted, but you never knew when. You always figured the day would come where you would just know. 

That day had come. 

It isn’t the end of the world, you consoled, having had time to be reasonable with yourself. You were far enough in your career where it wouldn’t weaken your income if you took some time to be lowkey. Haechan, the brainiac that he was, even suggested you endorse baby products. 

Everything felt so earth-shattering to you that you’d been confused into thinking weighing your options meant you only had one choice. Your mind was quick to wander, wondering if that was a symptom of carrying a developing baby. 

You breathed easier when it finally hit you that you didn’t have to choose between the career you loved and starting a family with the man you loved. Because you wanted both and you would have both. Even if it was in moderate amounts. 

At ten weeks, you were back in the doctor’s office to determine the sex of your babies. Haechan was hoping for boys while you were hoping for girls. Imagine your shock when Doctor Stakes congratulated you on carrying a boy and girl. 

By the end of the first trimester, you decided that you would be keeping the babies and your career. Haechan was both over the moon and a little anxious knowing that he would be a first-time father. Neither of you knew what you were doing and that made it as scary as it was exciting. 

Still, nobody knew. Outside of your symptoms, it wasn’t too obvious. Your baby bump wasn’t very big yet. 

“No smoking, no drinking, no hot tubs or saunas, moderate caffeine intake, no raw seafood,” you grumbled, recalling Doctor Stakes’ very detailed explanations of what was and was not healthy during your pregnancy. 

“Well,” Haechan started, plopping down on your shared mattress. “She did say we could still have lots of sex.”

You immediately rolled your eyes. “I believe her exact words were sex will not hurt our babies as long as my pregnancy is without health complications and I don’t start to experience bleeding, high blood pressure, and premature contractions.”

Haechan gently grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, retorting, “You look fine to me. How do you feel?”

“Good,” you sighed, getting comfortable on his thighs. “Different, but not bad different. Good.”

Haechan leaned into your ear and purred, “Which translates into good for lots of sex.”

You playfully hit him, pretending to be irritated. You knew he was only kidding. Kind of. 

Doctor Stakes was straightforward but thorough in her explanations, walking you through the route of pregnancy with more than a couple of recommendations prioritizing the best potential health of you and your unborn babies. She said that sex was perfectly fine during the first five through six months. Something about your babies being cushioned by your abdomen and amniotic sac fluid.

Whatever the hell that is, you remembered thinking. She also suggested you enroll in a parenting class just so that you knew what to expect. It was not rare for first-time parents to take them and they were apparently super helpful. 

It seemed strict, but you knew it was best for your children’s development, especially in the early stages. Though you would miss the freedom of your old life. “I kind of miss alcohol just because I can’t have it.”

“I’m not giving you any,” Haechan said, voice stern. 

You snorted. “I wasn’t asking. I’m not an idiot. It’s just… this is my life now. It’s gonna be hard.”

Kissing your cheek tenderly, Haechan replied, “Well, if you can’t drink, I won’t drink either.”

That surprised you and you wanted to know if he was joking or not. “Seriously?”

“Duh,” Haechan said. “Like I said, we’re pregnant. Anything you can’t have, shit, I can’t have it either. I guess we’re both abstaining.”

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, though you liked the idea of him doing it anyway. It made your heart flutter. 

Haechan shrugged. “Yeah, but I would feel like a dickhead for enjoying things that I know you can’t have right in your face. Besides, my liver is probably screaming ‘thank god.’”

You snickered, bringing your lips to his. That turned you on. You couldn’t even explain it. There was just something so hot and attractive about the words leaving his mouth and you decided you wanted him. 

Letting your eyes flutter closed, you quickly tangled yourself in thoughts of him and him only; like a stimulant that only got more lethal with every hit. Sometimes it did feel that way. Like pleasure of this magnitude was too mind-numbing to be free. 

Innocent touches became gestures of desperation. Haechan kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, hands zipping to your tender breasts while you looped your arms around his neck. He somehow only got better at kissing. You didn’t even know how that could happen. 

Almost like you brought out the best in each other. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, eyes snapping open. 

Haechan instantly noticed and was quick to halt his actions in case he was causing you discomfort. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just my boobs… They’re a little sore.”

Haechan chirped, “Nothing I can’t take care of.”

You giggled when he carefully lowered your weight onto the bed, lifting your shirt above your head and quickly getting rid of your bra. A moan left you when he caught a nipple in his mouth, gently kneading the other one in his hand. 

There was something so addictive about the feeling of your boyfriend’s warm mouth on your body. You couldn’t help but exhale and moan, just comforted by the fact that he was supplying you warmth. His hands wandered, too, always soft and tender. Whatever moisturizer he was using was doing god’s work. 

“Babe,” you sighed out. Both your mind and body were relaxed and that was exactly what you needed, all things considered. 

His tongue passed over your erect nipples, feeling them harden at his touch. Your boyfriend’s goal was to make you feel completely worshiped and he was doing a great job, for lack of a better word. Given that you were the one responsible for carrying and birthing two babies, he concluded that god could only be a woman. 

But you were getting way too worked up and it was driving you to the edge. “Baby,” you called. “I want more.”

There was an erotic wet sound when Haechan pulled away from your boobs. “Are you sure? I was just kidding about the whole sex thing earlier.”

“No you weren’t.”

“No I wasn’t.”

You snorted. Classic Haechan. 

Haechan quickly sobered again, whispering, “But I still wanna make sure this is what you want.”

You appreciated his concern, but the longer you waited, the quicker the heat pulsed between your legs and you couldn’t shake it anymore. “Haechan, I literally could not be more sure when I say I need your cock inside me.”

King of playing it cool that he was, Haechan pretended that those words weren’t like throwing gasoline on a field of already blazing thoughts. At least until he got inside you. Then, he had no thoughts. Brain empty. And he couldn’t help but bare his soul to you. 

Pussy made him talk. There was absolutely nothing that he could hide when he was balls deep inside you. 

Haechan shifted between your thighs, thanking god that you decided to wear a skirt today. His patience was wearing thin by the second and knowing how much you wanted him only strengthened his need. 

You could only feel your heart thumping and his body heat wafting over you. Other things seemed so much smaller and irrelevant than they were. 

Your panties came off with a yank and your glistening folds had Haechan’s undivided attention. “Shit, you’re so wet. I didn’t even do anything,” he said marvelously. 

“Shut up,” you huffed, though it wasn’t sincere. Little things about him being committed to being a father turned you on. He didn’t understand how scary it was to be alone. 

Haechan chuckled. “As you wish.”

You knew it wouldn’t be too long before he opened his mouth again and you weren’t complaining. 

Overcome with want and the need to do something, you lifted yourself up and crawled towards Haechan to help him undress his pants down his legs. Haechan let you do as much, but the second his bare cock was out, he was gently pushing you back down.

You pouted, lips tucking out. “I wanna do something.”

When you were comfortably on your back, Haechan started to rub his cock. “No,” he said, borderline teasing. “You can lay here and let me take care of you.”

His cock had your attention, your eyes fixed to how hard he was. “Okay.”

Haechan parted your legs again, gentler than typical. “On the plus side,” he started, holding his dick between your thighs. “I can’t get you pregnant if you’re already pregnant.”

You quipped, “That’s actually not impossible. Something called superfetation. I heard about it a couple of months ago after searching on Google for too long. It’s super rare, though. Don’t worry.”

“I am about to superfetate this pussy,” Haechan groaned, obnoxious.

“You’re turning me off.”

Haechan laughed. 

After a moment of coating himself in your wetness and hearing your soft moans, Haechan decided he couldn’t take it anymore and slowly penetrated you. His jaw unhitched, more than a couple of sounds escaping him. 

You weren’t any better. He just made you feel so full. You liked when he made it seem like it was only the two of you and you existed for each other. 

Haechan was painfully hard inside you and desperate to move, though not before he said without room for argument, “Tell me if you want me to stop or if it hurts.”

You simply just nodded. There was nothing you wouldn’t do if it got him to fuck your brains out. 

Then, Haechan started to move. His hands were on your hips, serving as an anchor so that he wouldn’t lose himself completely as he drowned in your wet pussy. In a similar manner, you braced your hands on his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. 

You were gazing at Haechan with one fatal combination of love and lust. They couldn’t be separated. Not after all the things that had been done and all the words that had been said. All you knew was that you had bared your body to him in the same way you’d bared your heart. 

“Baby, don’t stop,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t stop.” There was a pressure building inside the walls wedged between your legs and it only came out when he was steadily rocking his hips into you. 

The whole room suddenly seemed a thousand degrees hotter and Haechan couldn’t breathe, exhaling loudly with labored breath. He couldn’t take that your pussy was so warm and tight, grumbling, “Fuck,” in between moans, smacking his hips into yours uncontrollably. 

For a half second, you made eye contact with Haechan, just before he was sucking at the pulse on your collarbone and you couldn’t help but cry out his name, his chest creating friction against yours just enough to not be uncomfortable. 

Haechan willed himself not to tighten his grip at the arc of your hips for the sheer reason that he didn’t want to hurt you. Not only did he not want to hurt you any more than you asked for, but the reminder that his children were growing inside your belly made him treat you like you were fragile. 

He wanted to ask you to marry him, but he was terrified that it was way too soon. This pregnancy wasn’t even planned. You would probably have a heart attack if he asked for your hand in marriage. He was no stranger to being chided for moving too quickly, though it was just his nature. 

Little did he know, you loved that about him. He could come off too strong sometimes, but beneath his fast jumps to get started was a zealous boy with big hopes for the future. 

“I love you,” Haechan whispered, lips brushing against your skin. 

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his again. “I love you. You’re my everything.”

“You’re my everything and then some,” Haechan flirted. 

“You’re my everything and everything in between.”

Haechan started, “You’re my everything and…”

All it took was a kiss to the lips to effectively shut him up, grabbing his head and steering him closer to you. Like you weren’t already skin to skin. You sucked his tongue in your mouth, moaning at how his cock hit your sweet spot. 

You were just so consumed by him - entirely. Though you knew that there was no closer the two of you could be, you’d be damned if you didn’t try. 

Haechan’s hands wandered up to grab a handful of your breasts, gently squeezing the soft skin in his palms. He couldn’t get enough of the way you panted and sighed at his touch. There was no need for oxygen when he had you and he kissed you breathlessly until he thought he was going to die. 

Haechan exhaled with his mouth hanging open, “You cheated.” His lips were perfectly swollen, the sight winning a smile out of you. 

You giggled. 

With how your walls were kneading and gushing around his cock, Haechan knew that he wouldn’t last. His mouth watered at the thought of coming inside you since it had been so long ago. That one time just short of two months ago excluded, obviously. Though he hadn’t meant for it to happen. 

But first and foremost Haechan wanted to get you off and he steered a hand between your legs, thumbing your clit. You squirmed instantly, sensitive. 

Little moans of his name kept escaping from your lips. “Haechan, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” you warned, though rocked your hips into his to match his pace. The pleasure was different from before and the intimacy was even more intense. 

Haechan chuckled breathlessly, staving off his orgasm for as long as he could. “That’s the point, baby.” 

There was a resoundingly wet squelch as Haechan continued to bulldoze his cock into your cunt, breezing through the air. Your hands flew to your face as you covered yourself, embarrassed, but he pulled them away just as quick. “Don’t hide.”

“Don’t you hear that? I’m embarrassed,” you blurted. 

Haechan shook his head, peering down at you with misty eyes, and growled, “Sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You were breathless. Haechan silenced you by capturing your lips in one incapacitating kiss and you swore your heart stopped beating for a second.

He made it too easy to forget. Forget the all-consuming worries of eventual childbirth. The threat of kissing everything you’d ever known and wanted goodbye. And the fear of raising a child that might end up making the same mistakes as you. 

No words left your mouth as you parted your lips in a silent scream, trembling with the pressure of orgasm. You were a total disaster - you couldn’t stop moving, shaking and grinding yourself onto him even as your orgasm aggressively passed. 

Your orgasm ripped the soul out of you without leaving anything behind in a merciless act of overkill and you only slacked onto the mattress when it felt completely over. You heaved for breath, almost like you would never breathe again. You had never felt anything so vigorously. Every thought vacated your brain. 

Haechan was obviously not far behind - if the frequent pitched moans you were milking out of him were any indication - and you were borderline begging him to fill you again. This was a different strain of desperation than the kind that got you pregnant. This was more lethal. 

Your walls were pulsing around him and Haechan couldn’t take it, hissing your name when he came with a sharp cry. His hips didn’t still until he rode out his high, both of you moaning in a delighted sync when his cum dripped. 

“Fuck,” Haechan sighed, finally noticing how fast his heart was pounding against his chest. 

You started, “That was…”

“Intense,” Haechan finished. 

You nodded in agreement. Though it was enjoyable nonetheless. 

The two of you just sat there and wallowed in the afterhighs of sex for a bit. You were too exhausted to move and Haechan didn’t want to leave you alone. He spooned you in his arms for a total of fifteen minutes while the two of you chatted incessantly until you decided you finally had mustered enough strength. 

Time was a blur when Haechan helped you to your feet - not that you needed it yet - and led you to the bathroom where he proceeded to run the shower for both of you. After playfully washing each other’s backs, you went back to the bedroom clad in nothing but towels. 

For once, it was comfortably silent when you slipped back into bed. Then, to your surprise, Haechan started to cry. You gasped, “You’re crying!”

Hot tears stung Haechan’s eyes. Few things brought him to literal tears. He was just so over-thrilled to be the father of your babies. “Yeah.”

You cradled his face in your hands, kissing his lips. “We’re making two babies. We’re going to be parents. For the next eighteen years, they’re going to be our most paramount priority.”

Haechan knew that. You weren’t the only one that was going to be taking a step back from the grind, at least until you both grew a little more familiar with the parenting life. His decreased hours were non-negotiable and it helped that he was one of the co-owners. 

Not only was he going to be a father, but he needed to take time to be an even more devoted partner to you. Both of you were responsible for these children and the very last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were carrying the weight by yourself.

Wiping the tears out of his blurry eyes, Haechan said, “I can’t believe you let a guy like me get you pregnant.”

You furrowed your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I’m not exactly the type of dude people look at and go ‘he’s going to make an incredible father.’”

You liked that Haechan was being vulnerable with you. He started doing it more often ever since he realized that his indifference could drive you away. His feelings were deeper than he tended to lead on. When it came to you, he was an open book. 

“You’re going to make an incredible father. There. I said it,” you whispered. 

Haechan smiled, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. That was all he needed to hear. 

At sixteen weeks, your baby bump still wasn’t protruding even though you were definitely carrying twins. Doctor Stakes reassured you that everybody’s journey was different and your pregnant belly very well might not pop up until the end of the second trimester. 

And since you hadn’t announced that you were pregnant (you were conflicted), you working was still fully expected. Nobody asked questions. You considered yourself pretty damn slick. 

That was, until your agent knocked on your trailer while the crew were breaking. She was a down-to-earth, middle-aged woman named Patricia. 

“Hey,” you greeted, letting her inside. “Something wrong?”

Shutting the trailer door with a thud (this particular company tended to have faulty trailer doors), Mrs. Patricia shook her head gently. “Not particularly. I was curious about something and I wanted to speak with you woman to woman.”

That had your undivided attention. You set down the water bottle you’d been gulping back and prompted, “Yes?”

Mrs. Patricia started, “Excuse me if I’m overstepping, but… are you expecting?”

You blinked. “Is it obvious?”

“It’s in your nose.”

Your hand went up to your nose and you exclaimed, “What’s wrong with my nose?”

She gave you a look that sternly told you to lower your voice and replied levelly, “There is nothing wrong with your nose, but it is swollen.”

You had no idea what she was talking about and it was evident on your face. 

Mrs. Patricia explained, “Fluid retention. I had a swollen nose and hands during my pregnancy with my twenty-year-old, but it went away after my postpartum period.”

“Oh,” you replied quietly. 

“Congratulations, by the way. I think you would benefit from following up on the symptoms of pregnancy, just so that you know what to expect,” she suggested. “Again, I don’t mean to overstep.”

Though your mind was at a billion different places, you forced a smile and said, “No, it’s okay - thank you!”

But the second you came home, you were a different person. 

“Babe,” you called out, setting your keys in the tray near the door. Haechan told you that he would be home by now and you saw his motorbike parked in the garage. “Babe!”

Given the distance, his voice was faint, but you heard a faraway, “I’m coming!”

You stood there and patiently removed your shoes while you waited. There were now a handful of other things weighing on your mind and you didn’t know how to handle it by yourself. 

Haechan zipped downstairs, pleased to see you at the end of a long day. His hair was a beautiful mess at the top of his head and you could only guess he had been playing video games with Jaemin and Mark. 

Not that you were concerned about any of that right now. 

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” Haechan asked, coming up to you to trap you in a bear hug. Like he did everyday. 

But you weren’t at all in the mood for any of it, ignoring his question completely. “Is my nose swollen?”

That obviously wasn’t what Haechan thought you were going to say. “Huh?”

“You heard me.”

Haechan drew back, realizing you were in one of your moods again. Doctor Stakes mentioned that you were prone to mood swings and he would just have to deal with it in the gentlest way he could. “I mean, I didn’t wanna say anything, but it’s a little...”

“Oh my fucking god,” you exclaimed, stepping around him and bolting for the kitchen. 

Haechan was hot on your heels. “Babe, wait up!”

You threw open the snack pantry door, scanning them for your favorite chips, before remembering that you finished the bag last night. “Fuck, I forgot to order from the store!”

The words were right on his tongue, though Haechan knew better than to tell you to calm down. He was no stranger to your temper. His voice was level, calm. “We can always order more.”

Fresh tears dampened your face, burning while they blurred your vision. Reality was a mean little bitch with a hard punch. “Damn the chips! I can’t believe this.”

Haechan assumed it was a model thing. They were strict about your appearance and you always had to look a certain way. It was part of the reason why he never saw your career as an option for himself, though he wasn’t going to snitch about your junk food indulgence. 

Tentatively reaching out for you, Haechan kissed your face and cooed, “Hey, baby, listen to my voice. Your body is going to change. The doc said that’s completely normal. It’s nothing to lose your shit over.”

“It’s everything to lose my shit over!” you wailed. “I’m not mad about my fucking nose - I’m mad because I know nothing about bringing a baby into this world and I’m going to be a shit mother!”

“Don’t you dare say that,” Haechan told you, stern but still tranquil. You wholeheartedly envied it. 

“It’s true,” you huffed, sinking against the refrigerator. “My nose is swollen. I literally didn’t even know that was a thing! If I don’t know minor fucking details, how am I going to know how to parent?”

While you knew your agent had no foul intentions by commenting about your nose and there wasn’t a single mean bone in her body, you wished she would have kept it to herself. You couldn’t stop thinking about how you didn’t have this under control. This baby-making shit was not your strong suit. 

Other than the sex itself, although that was the last thing on your mind right now. 

It was completely unexpected for Haechan’s voice to drop the way it did. You had never seen him so serious. “We can take classes. Doctor Stakes recommended them, you know.”

You grumbled, “Why didn’t Doctor Stakes tell me that I was going to get a new nose?”

“She did, actually. Something about…”

“Fluid retention, I know. My agent told me,” you replied snappily. You were finally calming down, though hardly. Pregnancy came with its fair share of frustrations. Though it was also accompanied by the lack of energy to express them all. 

Haechan helped you off the ground, clearing your face of any tears with his thumb. “Is she the one that commented on your nose?”

You shrugged your shoulders but answered, “Yeah.”

“I think your agent should mind her bitter, decrepit business,” Haechan spat, though his tone was completely noncommittal. 

You snorted. “She’s not bad, Haechan.”

“I don’t care. It’s bad manners.”

You couldn’t argue with that. But it was nothing worth getting a new manager over and if anything you would just talk to her about boundaries. The only reason she was even on set was because you wanted her there. 

“The point is,” Haechan started, grabbing your hands and locking your fingers in his. “Every problem has a fix. I don’t know shit about this, either. You think I’ve been a father before? Must I remind you that you’re the only girl I’ve ever came inside of?”

You folded your arms. “And the only one you ever will.”

Haechan snickered, bobbing his head. You were lightening up and he could breathe a little easier. “Yes. And the only one I ever will.”

You let out a shaky breath. Though you still felt like ripping your hair out, you no longer felt the need to scream. Your lungs had had enough for one night. “Fine.”

“We’ll take classes together. I already managed my hours, so I’ve got time. You should tell the people you work for that you’re pregnant,” Haechan suggested.

You nodded. His constant touches killed your doubts again. Ultimately, they were no match against the love of your life. “How are you so nonchalant about this?”

Haechan shrugged like he had absolutely zero clue. “Old habits die hard, I guess?” He was internally panicking, but excellent at hiding it. Always had been. 

You hummed. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing ever. 

“And by the way, you’re beautiful. Swollen nose or not,” Haechan said. “I think it’s cute.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Cute?”

“Yeah. Fits your face.” 

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to put up with a hysterical pregnant lady,” you droned. 

Haechan didn’t try to deny it. Instead, he decided to lighten the mood, chirping, “Well, that’s what I get for being silly and not wrapping my willy.”

You forced your lips into a line, fighting a laugh. “That’s so stupid.”

“No glove, no love,” Haechan persisted, eager to get a laugh out of you. He wanted to see your shoulders shake and your nose do that cute thing it always did when you laughed at his jokes.

You playfully exclaimed, “Quit it!”

“You can’t go wrong if you shield your dong.”

That was the last blow your self-restraint could take and you finally burst out laughing like he wanted you to. 

Haechan was sporting a triumphant smile. He was always glad to put a smile on your face. Even (especially) for the most idioticly absurd of reasons. 

Your outburst eventually fizzled out and you thought back on something he said a couple of minutes ago, musing aloud, “Speaking of telling people that I’m pregnant, we haven’t told the clique.”

Haechan nodded. “I haven’t even told my parents. They’re gonna be so mad we waited almost twenty weeks. My mom’s been nagging me about when she can expect grandkids.”

“We should have a party. Get the gang in town and host a gathering at your parents’ house or something,” you proposed. 

Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Like a gender reveal party?”

You winced. “Goodness, no. Just, like, I don’t know. A pregnancy reveal party. But they can guess if they want.”

That wasn’t the best idea. Mark and Ryujin would probably have opposite guesses and flip the table over. Grabbing your wrist to press a kiss to the back of your hand, Haechan said, “Well, you know Mark’s been in Canada for the past two months and Winter is everywhere, but I’ll see what we can do.”

You didn’t want to get your hopes up - nowadays it was rare for all of you to be in town at the same time - but that had you excited. You couldn’t wait to share the good news. “I had another idea, too,” you whispered softly. 

Haechan led you to the living room so that you could sit down and asked, “What’s that?” 

Once you were off your feet, you played coy and confessed, “We should have a photoshoot at your studio when my bump gets big. Just me, you, and the two babies in my belly. A grand reveal to the entire world that I’m officially a mother.”

“Sold,” Haechan hummed in approval.

You couldn’t stop smiling. A part of you couldn’t wait for it to happen. Doctor Stakes mentioned that it could feel like your stomach grew out of nowhere. 

Within the next couple of days, you communicated with your consultants and the management at your agency and notified them of your pregnancy. You divulged that you were sixteen weeks along and fully intended to be a mother to your children. 

And in no uncertain terms. Given the flexibility of your schedules and hectic hours, they agreed that it was only fair you took off as much as you took on. You were offered six months, which you accepted thankfully, and were told to inform them when you would be starting two weeks in advance. 

When you delivered the news to Haechan, he couldn’t contain his excitement. Everyday the ongoing reminder of your looming childbirth settled in. His kids were developing inside your womb. He was going to be a father. You were going to raise two kids together in your shared home and every time he realized, he fell more and more in love with the thought. 

Only a few weeks later you were at his parents’ house watching Haechan and his father set up from the kitchen. Though you wanted to at least help with the baking, his mother was unshakeable in her ways and rigidly told you to sit and not move. 

She wanted her grandkids delivered in the best possible health. His parents were enthusiastic to discover that you were pregnant, though not without slight scolding. But they weren’t against a celebration. 

“I knew it. You know, a mother always knows,” his mother had told you while her son and his father were in the living room. 

You heard a knock at the front door a couple of hours later and separated from Haechan who was making out with you while his parents weren’t looking to greet your friends. The first person you heard was Mark. 

“What up,” Mark exclaimed when he strolled inside like he owned the place. 

Ryujin wasn’t far behind, obviously, but behind her was her boyfriend, Sunwoo. Every now and then, you were reminded that the guy actually existed, although he had come home from Chicago years ago. 

You gave them each kind hugs. “Hi, guys. Long time, no see.”

Ryujin spat, “Mark gets a Grammy nom that he didn’t even win and acts like he’s too cool for us now.”

“God forbid a man gets busy and goes to his home country,” Mark droned in stride. “Besides, I’ll get it next year.”

You nodded in approval. That was the spirit. 

“It’s good to see you, man,” Haechan said, pulling Mark in for a brief hug after doing the same with Sunwoo and Ryujin. 

Mark patted him on the back. “Same, dude. It’s good to have all of us together again.”

Sunwoo picked up some candies that were collecting dust in a bowl on the coffee table. “Are these peanut butter?”

“Yup,” you retorted. 

He quickly sat it back down.

Ryujin explained dryly, “He’s allergic.”

Pinching Haechan’s arm, you gave him a stern look, knowing he was on the verge of a snicker. 

You remembered something and mentioned to Mark, “Oh, by the way, I’ve been hearing your new single on the radio. It’s really good.”

There was a faint blush across Mark’s cheeks. “Thanks,” he chirped. 

“I did the cover art,” Ryujin added. 

Mark whined, “Why can’t you ever let me have my moment?”

You chuckled. It was good to have them all back. Other than Sunwoo, you were pretty updated on what they all had going on and though it drove them out of the city sometimes, you were endlessly happy for them. Mark was obviously the next big thing and was busy making global hits, touring the seven seas. 

On the other hand, Ryujin worked from home more often than not, typically only leaving California to go on vacation. She did art commissions notably for wealthy patrons and pitched in with Mark’s creative team whenever needed. 

Chaewon was also frequently home, owning a hair and nail salon here and all. You and Winter definitely took pictures and credited her in your Instagrams stories. Speaking of Winter, she was everywhere, much like you. More than once, you collaborated in a photoshoot or went to Paris Fashion Week together. 

Which left Jaemin. He was much more lowkey. After giving his master's degree last year, he finally started to work as a mechanical engineer. You couldn’t believe how smart he was, having skipped a grade and all. 

The others showed up a little later. Your stomach was turning with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You couldn’t wait to get the news off of your chest. You smiled when Haechan looped an arm around your waist, almost like he could sense your whirlwind of feelings. 

Some dancing and singing at the top of your lungs later and your worries were promptly forgotten. Chaewon, Winter, and Ryujin danced with you while the boys were laughing in their own circle. The whole room was entirely too chaotic and Haechan’s parents escorted themselves out minutes ago. 

Now it was time for the kids to really party. 

Mark, under the impression that this party was just a small get-together for friends who didn’t get to see each other often, glanced at you and asked, “Okay, rum, tequila, or vodka?”

You winced. “Oh, no. I can’t.”

Mark gaped. “What? I’m on tour for a few months and now you don’t drink?”

“Yeah, um, about that,” you said, gesturing for Haechan to cut down the music. “I have something to tell you guys.”

“You’re taking care of your acne? You’re breaking out more than usual,” Mark blurted without malice. 

Haechan cocked him a glare, deadpanning, “You know, Mark, it amazes me how you can always be so close yet so far away.”

Everyone was gazing at you with baffled looks. Then, you set your hand on your stomach, and it clicked. Mark gasped, “Don’t tell me…”

“I’m pregnant,” you announced, giggling when Haechan curled his arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. 

He was quick to correct, “We’re pregnant.”

“Yes,” you said with a chuckle. “We’re pregnant.”

The nerves were back with a vengeance. You knew they were all going to have distinct reactions and the anticipation was killing you. You thought they might have chided you for being stupid. 

As it turned out, there was a chorus of excited noises and “congratulations” that you could hardly make out. Everybody was trying to speak over each other and you had to add, “Okay, one at a time. Please.”

Chaewon wasn’t shocked, almost like she expected it to happen, but had her hands on her hips in her typical fashion. “I’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me you were pregnant?”

You winced. “Sorry.” Expected backlash, you thought. 

“It’s okay,” she said, shoving Haechan out of the way to pull you in for a hug. Much to his annoyance. “I’m so happy for you.”

You chuckled at the sound of Haechan huffing from beside you. “Thanks.”

Mark was next. There were literal twinkles in his eyes. “I’m going to be an uncle?”

“Absolutely. Your niece and nephew are going to love you,” you retorted happily. 

Winter gasped, “You’re having twins?”

You bobbed your head. “Yes. One girl, one boy. We both wanted different things so I guess that was the universe’s way of being a diplomat.”

Winter snorted in amusement. She could already guess what your preferences were. “Oh, wow. Congratulations. Jaemin and I definitely aren’t having kids, so I’m cool with being the rich auntie.”

“Mm, three rich aunties. They’re going to be so lucky,” you dragged. 

Haechan droned, “And extremely spoiled.”

You giggled.

Sunwoo and Ryujin walked up to you. Ryujin was staring at you in adoration. “Have you painted the nursery? If not, can I please help?”

That was an absolute no-brainer. “We haven’t done a lot of things. We need as much help as we can get.”

Sunwoo glanced between you and Haechan and said, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, man,” Haechan said, holding out his hand. 

Sunwoo firmly shook your boyfriend’s hand. Then, he looked to Ryujin, parting his lips to speak, and she snapped with a shake of her head, “Nope. Never.”

Sunwoo frowned. 

You giggled. It didn’t take a genius to understand he was about to ask her about having kids someday. 

Jaemin looked like he couldn’t believe his ears. Though, he had to admit it made sense. You and Haechan just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. “You’re pregnant?”

“Very.” 

“Wow,” he replied, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I thought we had enough Haechan walking around.”

“Dude, I’ll kick your ass,” Haechan hissed. 

Jaemin threw up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Kick my ass after the party’s over.”

Winter wandered over again, a drink in her hand, and quipped, “You know, this whole time I thought you were going to get Haechan pregnant.”

That got a giggle out of you. “No worries. I’m gonna peg him tonight.”

Haechan was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. 

While you went to go find Chaewon and whisper something in her that made a smile crawl its way onto her lips, Haechan and Jaemin excused themselves from the room for a minute. 

The garage was hot and stuffy, a stark contrast from the ventilated and free energy of the party, but it was the perfect place to have a private conversation ideally without any unwanted listeners. 

Haechan mounted one of his dad’s old bikes (his father was still an avid bike fan no matter how long it had been since he rode one). He wasn’t going anywhere, but he needed a distraction. 

Holding a beer, Jaemin nudged his best friend and asked, “You don’t want a drink?”

“No, I can’t,” Haechan replied, voice distant.

Suit yourself, Jaemin thought. Then, thinking back to something you said, he teased, “Guess she was serious about that pegging shit, huh?”

Haechan snapped, “Do I ask you how you’re fucking Winter?”

Jaemin made a face before downing what was left of his beer. “Good point, my friend.”

Haechan was obviously in his head, which meant nothing good. As always. He wasn’t unhappy - the opposite, rather - but this was one of those days where everything felt unreal. 

If there was anything he knew, it was that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. His little voice in his head snapped, Damn eighteen fucking years. You were his until he died. 

The silence was getting off-putting, thus Jaemin started, “So, a baby.”

“Yeah,” Haechan answered blankly. It was almost like he wasn’t ever there. His surroundings be damned. 

Jaemin was officially miffed. “You wanted to come out here to talk to me about something, man. Open up, brother. What’s on your mind?”

Haechan shook his head. He was in desperate need of direction. He huffed, “I don’t know, bro. I’ve never felt shit like this before.”

That piqued Jaemin’s attention. All he could think of was how badly his brother in everything but blood needed a drink or a cigarette, though he correctly assumed he was abstaining for your sake. “Like what?”

“That’s the thing. I can’t explain it. I mean, I put a baby in her,” Haechan started, conflicted. “Two babies. You know that we wavered a long time before she decided that she wanted to keep them?”

“Well, I do now.”

Haechan’s features were tensed in his typical pensive gaze. “I support her regardless of what her decision would have been, and I made sure she knew that, but I was secretly hoping that she wanted to keep it. Because I realized what I wanted.”

Jaemin prompted, “What do you want?”

“Everything. I wanna do the whole nine. I wanna start a family with her. I wanna pick up the kids after school. Make the three of them breakfast in the morning. I wanna spend every second of my life next to her. When I die, I want to be buried next to her grave.”

Jaemin tilted his head with suspicion. “Haechan, do you wanna marry her?”

“Yeah. I wanna marry her,” Haechan answered. He was finally confirming it - aloud. “Is it too soon?”

“That’s not for me to decide,” Jaemin said kindly. 

Haechan sighed. 

Jaemin gave him a pat to the shoulder and added, “Hey, bro. The worst she can say is ‘no.’”

There was a war-waging storm inside of Haechan. He was prepared to kiss the ground that you walked on. “She’s the mother of my babies…,” he trailed. 

Though Haechan tried to blink his tears away, his emotions and love for his family was too goddamn strong. His heart beated for the three of you. This paternal responsibility added a brand new meaning to his life. A different purpose. 

Jaemin noticed his best friend’s tears and immediately opened his arms. “Dude, come here.”

Haechan marched over and let Jaemin sweep him into a borderline aggressive hug. There was thunder in his heart and he could feel it shaking everything he’d ever known. This kind of euphoria was foreign to him, but he never wanted it to stop. 

When he pulled back, Haechan wiped his face and muttered, “Don’t tell them I cried.”

Jaemin snickered, patting his friend on the back. “Don’t worry, man. I got you for life. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Haechan blew out a shaky breath. “By the way, my girlfriend and I talked, and we decided that we want you to be the godfather.”

Jaemin pointed to himself with his finger. “Me? Why not Mark? What do I know about god?”

Haechan snickered. “Think of it as being the highest ranking uncle.”

“I like that. Uncle Jaemin. It’s got a nice ring to it,” Jaemin replied, nodding with approval. 

“What about Dad?”

Jaemin grimaced. “That’s not funny. I have nightmares about that.”

Haechan laughed. 

As soon as that was over, Haechan and Jaemin slipped back into the party so naturally it was almost as if nothing ever happened. He found you sipping on an iced tea in an attempt to quench your thirst. 

You cocked a brow at him. “Everything okay?”

Haechan bobbed his head. Then, he stole your glass out of your hands and took a sip, much to your annoyance. “Yeah. Why?”

“Just asking,” you replied, snatching your drink back. 

Tempted to giggle, Haechan held it back when a thought crossed his mind. “I’m not having second thoughts.”

“I know.” You also knew his secret, familiarized with the little gleam in his stare, though you decided against mentioning it. 

Haechan grinned, taking your available hand in his, and asked, “Wanna dance?”

“I was wondering when you would ask,” you retorted, setting down your glass and leading him to the center of the floor. 

Heat fluttered in your chest when you felt Haechan get closer to you. With his hands at your hips and yours at his shoulders the two of you started to sway around the floor, earning a number of exhilarated noises from your friends in the room. 

But it still felt like it was just you two, like it did all those years ago when you realized for the first time that there was something so different about him. For lack of a better word, he was just so mesmerizing. You remembered wanting to know everything there was about him. 

Bliss made you close your eyes and make a wish to the stars, hoping for an eternity with the man you loved and the life you made together as partners. 

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Sunwoo excuse himself from this fascinatingly beautiful moment to accept a phone call. Not that you minded. You were entranced in that moment and everything else had little consequence. Your heart was dancing inside your chest and on the floor. 

Haechan pressed a kiss to your brow, looking at you with total undeniable affection. His eyes were sparkling again though not with tears - with adoration. This man would steal the moon for you and then proceed to wish on every star for a thousand more moons to gift you. 

Only if he knew that there was an impending danger he should’ve wished away. 

Sunwoo entered the room again and walked towards the two of you, which made you both stop and curiously gaze at him before he said, “It’s for you.”

You were baffled. “Who is it?”

“Jeno.”

Haechan’s face paled. 

Without thinking, you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, then said less than amicably, “Hello?”

Jeno’s voice was quick to fill your ears, an air of surprise to his tone when he spoke your name. “Hey. Don’t hang up, please.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” you hissed. 

The room was silent while you talked. The music was cut again and everybody’s eyes were fixed to you, watching this phone call unfold with interest. Nobody dared to say a word, but the disdainful feelings were pretty much obvious. The anger in Haechan’s eyes almost matched the ire in yours. 

“Because I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” you repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”

Jeno sighed from wherever the hell he was. “Listen, I want to talk, but I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone. I was thinking maybe we could meet up somewhere.”

“Just a second,” you replied, handing Sunwoo back his phone while you dragged Haechan over to a corner. 

Judging from the mere force of your actions, you were clearly upset and it didn’t take a genius to point that out. Haechan was ready to pummel this guy to the ground for your sake. “What happened? What did he say?”

“He wants to meet up. I guess he wants to apologize,” you whispered.

Haechan exclaimed, “What?”

You put your finger to his lip. “He said that he was sorry.”

Frustration made Haechan cross his arms with a mean-looking scowl on his lips as he huffed, “And you want to entertain this fool?”

You shrugged. You were obviously angry and feigning indifference, covered head to toe in unadulterated rage, but there was something in you that wanted to give Jeno the benefit of the doubt. “Call it curiosity. But I’m not going out pregnant. I’m not ready for the world to know yet.”

“Okay, so I go.”

You had already thought of that, pondering all your options in a five-minute time span, but quickly responded, “Yeah, but I kind of wanna be there when shit goes down. How about we invite him over?”

Haechan was seething. “You want to invite him over to the house where we’re going to raise our son and daughter?”

“We need a bigger house anyways,” you answered flatly, exhaling a breath. 

“Bigger than ours?”

“Bigger than ours.”

Haechan frowned for a moment, though after a moment or two of contemplation, he relented. “Fine. But I want to do all the negotiating.”

You bobbed your head. “Fair.”

Haechan politely asked Sunwoo for his phone again, then switched on a dime when he spoke sharply, “Hello?”

Neither of you could see the way Jeno’s eyes flickered with shock. “Haechan.”

Haechan snapped, “Don’t give me that shit, man. Did you change your number?”

Jeno faltered with confusion. “No?”

“Good. I’m going to text you our address. You’re going to be at our front door step tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock sharp or else you’ll be turned away at the door. And you better tell me something I want to hear or I’m kicking your ass.”

There was a lull of silence as Jeno processed those words. 

Haechan immediately added, “Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Goodbye,” Haechan said, promptly hanging up the phone and returning it to its owner. 

Mark was not shockingly the first to speak. “That was… intense.”

You shrugged. “I thought it was hot.”

“Of course, you did,” Mark teased. 

Haechan shook his head. It felt like the more the days passed, the more there was on his mind. 

Regardless of unfortunate events, you refused to allow them to ruin the celebration. Assertively, you demanded that somebody put the music back on and encouraged your boyfriend to bust a move. Socializing and having fun was the quickest way to make him forget the unforgettable. 

Even though you were less expressive in your contempt, it obviously put you at unease as well and you were also in fine need of an effective distraction. A drink would have been nice for knocking back inhibition, but you’d resigned yourself to the fact that you had months before that was a viable solution. 

Plus something that you learned as you bordered closer onto your thirties was the significance of letting loose without the need for recreational use. There was something more special about bonding sober. 

Priorities shifted. Like how you were steadily beginning to value your personal life over your career and image. When you were in your early twenties, everything felt more life-and-death than it was. Now, the most pivotal moment of your life would be successfully giving birth. 

Later that night, those were the thoughts battling in your mind until noon that day. It seemed like every day you were making changes in your day-to-day routines to accommodate your new life. Changes that you were so certain at one point would feel like the end. 

You knew now it wasn’t anywhere close to the end. If anything, it was a new beginning and a transition to a new stage of your life. You were standing at the threshold of parenthood. 

That wasn’t to say you were going to remain indoors for the rest of your life until you wilted and succumbed to eventual fate. Or become a housewife and die, as Haechan had humorously put it. Granted, you realized how vital it was to be a little more laid-back and would undoubtedly shelter your children, but you were already fantasizing about sending the kids to the grandparents for a fun night out. 

You wondered if Jeno had changed. All things considered. He was older, too, and closer to Haechan’s age than he was yours. Though five years didn’t seem like too long ago, you had seen a quantity of things occur in that time. 

And you weren’t just talking career-wise, though that technically helped your case. You were in no way a stranger to the upward spiral of Jeno’s career. Like you, he had a successful career in the fashion industry, walking down runways and posing for big shot photographers. 

On more than one occasion, you’d been invited to events at the same time, though you had considered yourself lucky to not have any face-to-face encounters with him and simultaneously practiced your professional skills if it inevitably were to happen. 

Maybe it was for the better. A way to prepare you for the hell that was today. Still, you couldn’t deny being anxious as you lounged on your couch. 

Checking your watch and noting that it was a minute before two, you exhaled, “What if he just doesn’t show up?”

Not a moment later, the doorbell rang. Oh, you thought to yourself. He’s always been punctual. 

“You have your answer,” Haechan droned. 

You took three stabilizing breaths when you watched Haechan leave the room to answer the front door. Maybe you should have let him take care of this. No, chided the voice in your head. This is both of your history. He shouldn’t go through this alone. 

Especially not when he was evidently opposed to it and only agreed because it was what you wanted. 

There was a disturbance in your brain when you saw Haechan round the corner and return with Jeno. This guy had essentially been off of your radar for so long that it was jarring to be confronted with the fact that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. 

Jeno spoke your name. “Hi.”

You waved. As of this second, you didn’t have anything to say to him. 

“You can sit,” Haechan said when he sat next to you on the loveseat. He sounded bored. 

Jeno perched on the chair across from you, fumbling with his hands. You didn’t know Jeno for as long as Haechan had, but you still had never seen him anxious. 

You scanned your memory for any recollection of him being anything other than cocky and confident and ultimately turned up empty. His raging ego and dilated pride was his vice and had cost him more than you’d ever known.

Impatiently, Haechan prompted, “Well, are you here to twiddle your thumbs or…”

Normally, you would pinch his thigh for rude comments, but today he had a free pass. 

Jeno lifted his head to meet both of your eyes when he finally started, “I’ve spent six months trying to practice what I would say if I ever got the chance to apologize.”

Both you and Haechan had your arms folded, stubborn. Save for the unignorable vexation, your faces were borderline inscrutable. He picked the wrong duo to fuck over. The two of you were unrelenting. 

Jeno let out a little sigh and promptly continued, “I say six months, because it took me four years and a half to understand just how badly I fucked up. At first, it didn’t bother me that I lost seven friends on the same day. I was arrogant. I thought I didn’t need friends.”

You almost laughed. Almost. That much was obvious. 

“And I had that mindset for a long, long time. There’s just something about when you’re super young and you feel like you have the whole world at your feet. Obviously, the popularity didn’t help. When I started to become famous, people wanted to hang out with me.”

“Yeah, that tends to happen,” you quipped smartly. “They see you’re the next big thing and they hold onto you because that’s what you’re there for. To be their one-way ticket to stardom. Then, when they get what they wanted, you’ve exhausted your purpose.”

“Yeah.” Jeno bobbed his head in agreement. 

Haechan was not here to have a conversation about the brutal reality of being a superstar in the industry and his jaw clenched. “What made you realize that you fucked up?”

“What she said,” Jeno replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is a shallow job. Nobody was really my friend. I was either just their ride to fame or an accessory to make them look good. I realized how much I missed not only you two, but the whole gang, because you were the only people who cared about me beyond the surface.”

Haechan sighed. 

Jeno’s voice got quieter. Not emotional, but dangerously close. “In our clique, it didn’t matter if you were on track to being a celebrity or just some guy. You know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

You frowned. 

Haechan added, “So, you get lonely and decide you need us?”

“I know how that sounds, but…,” Jeno trailed. “But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for competing with you instead of being your friend.”

Haechan’s lips were in a hard line. 

Jeno flitted his gaze towards you. “I’m sorry for using you. It was beyond fucked up.”

“To be fair, I was using you, too.”

Jeno bounced his leg against the ground, attempting to thwart his nerves. At the back of his mind, there were many unspoken thoughts. “Yeah, but you didn’t leave a woman in the street by herself. I still haven’t forgiven myself for that. If something happened to you, it would have been all my fault.”

Just the thought triggered something spiteful inside you. “I’m glad you realize that.”

Knowing you better than anybody, Haechan could sense the fire smoldering inside of you, slipping his fingers through yours and squeezing. “This has been… whatever, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re stressing my baby mother out.”

Jeno spluttered, “Baby?”

“Yeah. A baby.”

Jeno’s eyes flickered in shock. “Wow, um. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you replied, tone completely noncommittal. “We’ll think about it.”

You watched Jeno bob his head and reply with a quiet “thank you” as your boyfriend stood to see him out. With how your brain was practically like a wildfire, it felt like the epitome of madness. 

Haechan came back only a couple of moments later sporting a sour glower. 

You relaxed when he sat next to you. You didn’t realize that you’d been so stiff. “Well, what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Haechan lied without realizing, because his skepticism wouldn’t allow him to admit his true feelings. 

Well, you knew exactly what you were thinking. “He seems genuine. I don’t think he has an ulterior motive. I mean, he’s doing great, he doesn’t need us.”

Haechan prompted, “But?”

You heaved a breath. Sometimes you hated that Haechan knew you so well. Better yet, he understood you perfectly. 

“But I don’t forget as easily as I forgive,” you said quietly, drifting endlessly in your thoughts like spacetime. 

Haechan huffed, “Me, neither.”

Without many uncomfortable amounts of stressful thoughts, your life went on. The world kept spinning no matter what you were going through and it did you no good to subject yourself to strain while you were carrying twins. Your doctor was clear that the risks associated with pregnancy grew with more than one child. 

Your body was undergoing so much change that you didn’t even step outside because you didn’t want the world to know that you were pregnant until you announced it yourself. Given that it was your first pregnancy, you wanted it to be unforgettable. 

The baby bump felt like it happened overnight. You couldn’t stop gawking at yourself in the mirror, in disbelief that there was something coming to life inside of you. They were starting to move around, too. You cried when you noticed the fluttering in your belly, almost like butterflies. 

Every day you were counting down the seconds until the photoshoot until in a blink, the day had finally come. Haechan, the gentleman that you had fallen in love with, had everything set up at his studio and was rigid with the staff, though nonetheless polite. You were beaming. Not many opportunities arose for you to see him work behind the scenes and it was heartwarming to see him be so attuned to your needs. 

It was one of the most fun and rewarding shoots you’d ever done in your life. And it would be the most noteworthy. The vibe was nothing less than ethereal and it was full of kisses and laughter. Haechan’s hands and lips on your belly. Holding your hand while you looked into each other’s eyes with the utmost adoration. 

Holding the physical pictures between your own fingers, you sobbed. You were very emotional these days and half expected Haechan to poke fun at you, but he never did. He was the same way, passionate about the undying love he had for you and your unborn children. 

There were a couple of pictures that you didn’t release to the public. Those were just for you and your loved ones. They were more vulnerable, sentimental pictures where you and Haechan couldn’t but stare at each other with a tearful gaze. 

The moment of truth, came the little voice in the back of your head while your finger wavered over the share button. Half of you wanted to hand your phone over to your PR team, but it was important to you that you were the one to disclose. 

You took a shaky breath just before pressing the button and tossed your phone to the side. What was said online wasn’t any of your concern. You didn’t want to know. 

Outlets rushed to cough up the news. Your social media accounts were bursting with likes from people all over the globe. People you were friends with in the industry didn’t hesitate to call and congratulate you on the pleasant surprise. This wasn’t a secret anymore. Now that it was out there, it was everybody’s business. 

When the deed was done, you chose to focus on yourself and the life surrounding you in every capacity rather than what was out of your hands, and made peace with the fact that public opinion was inevitable. What you could control, on the other hand, was how exposed you were to stranger’s thoughts. 

The next few weeks were filled with yoga and child development textbooks. Haechan was taking pictures weekly to document your belly growth. He had already decided that he was going to start a photo album specifically for your children while they grew older. 

You told him that you couldn’t think of a more beautiful idea. 

One Friday came and brought a handful of errands along with itself. You were undoubtedly pregnant now, but not so much that you couldn’t complete tasks by yourself, though Haechan thought that that was debatable. He thought it was ridiculous that anyone expected you to do anything and upheld that you deserved princess treatment. 

But you had a medical opinion that said staying active during pregnancy was beneficial for you and the babies, and Haechan resigned himself to defeat. 

Apparently, the universe wasn’t in your favor, because your car started to have complications. First, the sunroof vehemently refused to open. Then, like a total drama queen, your car decided that she didn’t want to start. 

The most exasperated breath escaped your mouth. You didn’t know the first thing about getting a stubborn vehicle to start and you knew Haechan didn’t either. Besides, not only did you not want to disturb him while he was working, but you were equally stubborn and wanted to prove that you were capable of handling yourself. 

Out of options, you had a really, really bad idea. 

Something unfamiliar stirred in your gut when you pressed your phone to ear, hearing it ring. Anxiety. Or maybe it was something else. Something unidentifiable. 

Jeno sounded a little startled when he spoke, as if he thought you called him by accident. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jeno,” you said less than enthusiastically, rubbing your forearm. “I’ve got a serious favor to ask.”

Though you couldn’t see, Jeno perked up at those words. He was completely desperate. “Yeah, sure. Anything. What’s up?”

Providing a little humor, you replied, “Assuming that you actually know how to work on cars and that wasn’t a lie to impress me, my car kind of won’t start and trying to guilt trip her into functioning doesn’t seem to be effective.”

Jeno snorted. “Did you check the battery?”

You almost started to panic. “No. Was I supposed to?”

“Uh, how about this. If you want, I can come check it out,” Jeno suggested, then immediately regretted the decision. He didn’t want to try and insert himself into your lives too quickly. “But only if you want me to.”

That wasn’t the best idea, considering your boyfriend was intent to hate Jeno’s guts and would not approve of him standing in his garage alone with his baby mother, but your options were already few, so you replied, “That’s fine. You know where I am.”

“I’m on the way,” Jeno said. You could hear him shuffling around in the background. 

“Okay. See you soon.”

You hung up without giving him a chance to respond and released an uncertain breath. Don’t make me regret this. 

Waiting with bated breath and folded arms, your gaze upturned some thirty minutes later when you heard a blue Mercedes Benz turning into your driveway. 

And then Jeno started to walk over to you. 

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t make it sooner. Traffic is crazy today,” Jeno said when he stopped just shy of your toes.

You waved him off. “You’re good. Thirty minutes isn’t bad for California traffic. Thanks for coming over.”

“No problem,” Jeno replied. He didn’t waste much time on small talk, getting straight to what you called him over for. “Let’s see what’s wrong with this bad boy.”

“Her name is Mariposa,” you corrected, but your tone wasn’t malicious. 

Jeno threw his hands up. “Where’s my manners? I should’ve asked. Sorry if I offended you, Mariposa.”

You snickered. “Don’t apologize to her. She’s caused enough trouble today.”

Jeno chuckled. 

While you kept yourself occupied in the corner, not wanting to disturb Jeno as he tried to figure out why your car was acting like a bitch, his brain was totally divided. Half was focused on thoroughly examining your car, while the other was hooked on the fact you remembered something he told you five years ago at dinner. 

Jeno was pondering, hoping. Maybe you just had a good memory, especially when it was convenient, but he hoped that someday, there would be room for him again in your lives. 

Even if he had to spend years proving that he was worthy. 

Jeno separated himself from the lifted hood of your car, dusting his hands off. Your eyes were stuck on him with gut-eating anticipation. “Looks like your alternator is weakening. Smells like burned wires and the serpentine belt smells like smoke. Your engine’s probably leaking.”

“English, please.”

“Your alternator’s not alternating and your shit’s fucked,” Jeno replied, blunt. 

“Oh.” That certainly wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

“Don’t worry. The good news is that it’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Jeno reassured, pushing the lid back down. “The bad news is that I don’t have the tools to work on it for you.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “Guess I should call a mechanic.”

Jeno bobbed his head. “That would be a good start.”

You were anxious to ask, but did it anyway, “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind hanging around? One look at my neighborhood and the obvious fact that I don’t know a damn thing about cars, and anyone would try to scam me out of more money than I need to spend.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jeno replied, dipping his hands in his pockets. “But, uh… won’t Haechan mind?”

You snorted. That was an understatement. “Oh, definitely, but his vehicle knowledge starts with one wheel and rides with two. I don’t think he has a say in this.”

Jeno snickered. 

The mechanic came half an hour later and you let Jeno handle the bulk of the talking, only chiming in when the guy asked specific questions like how long you’d been experiencing complications with your car.  

Between the mechanic peeking under the hood and Jeno pointing out to him your car’s tenaciousness, you understood enough of their exchange to know that fixing her would take a solid two hours. Unfortunately, this guy was stretched thin, meaning he would have to tow it back to his shop and have you pick it up tomorrow. 

“This day cannot get any worse,” you grumbled underneath your breath. 

Jeno was frustrated for you and it wasn’t even his car acting a damn fool. After he seemed to hesitate a little, he asked, “Will Haechan be back soon?”

“Nope. He had most of his hours cut, but apparently there was a really huge crisis at his job. It’s going to be another hour or two.”

“Dammit,” Jeno groaned. “Well, if you want me to, I wouldn’t mind driving. You seem really stressed and that’s not healthy for the babies. I mean, obviously you know that, but...”

His nervousness was not lost on you and you resisted a chuckle, interjecting, “Jeno, I would really appreciate the help.”

“Okay, cool,” Jeno said, whipping his keys out of his pockets and tossing them in the air. “Where to?”

Gently helping you get into his car, Jeno made sure that you were safe and comfortable before he took the driver’s seat and braced his hands on the wheel. He was certain that your lover would have his head on a stick for driving you around without his knowledge, but he had a moral obligation not to leave pregnant ladies under tension. 

Besides, he had to prove his loyalty somehow. It didn’t matter how much Jeno insisted that he’d changed. Neither you or Haechan would be convinced until there were no doubts.

Your head was against the door, temporarily appreciating the air conditioning until you just couldn’t take the silence, asking, “So, how’s life? Last time we spoke, you were talking about people being shallow.”

Jeno nodded his head quietly. “I’ve been scared of meeting new people. I have a few friends. Other than that, I have my family and girlfriend.”

Your brows furrowed. That was new. “Girlfriend? Congratulations. I didn’t know.”

“Thank you,” Jeno replied, heat rapidly flushing his cheeks. “She’s the one that encouraged me to apologize. Even if you guys still hated me in the end, she said it would be good to get it off my chest.”

That was interesting. Nobody saw the day coming where Jeno of all people would choose commitment. “Is she in the industry?”

“No, she’s actually a banker,” Jeno replied, chuckling. 

“Really? How did your paths cross?” 

“It’s a long story,” Jeno said, but you could see his eyes sparkling with happiness. He must’ve really liked her. 

Pointing to the road in front of you, staring at the red light glaring back at you both, you shrugged your shoulders. “We’ve got a long day.” 

For the duration of the total ride, in between stops, you chatted with Jeno to pass the time. It wasn’t the easiest thing to relax around each other, each for your own reasons, but you managed. And truth be told, it wasn’t all too bad. 

Your chronic cynicism was the only thing standing in the way of your forgiveness. But Jeno had no apparent reason to drive you around and assist you with errands if it wasn’t simply out of the kindness of his heart. There was nothing that you could give him that he didn’t already have. Except maybe loyal companionship, but he’d already made it clear that he wasn’t lonely. 

Only hours later did Jeno finally pull back into your driveway. Most of your errands just required having to speak with people, but noting that you were probably out of your favorite snacks again, you opted to head to a couple of stores. You also figured you would need some chocolate when it was time to placate Haechan after he realized you’d been with his worst enemy all day. 

When you were home, Jeno refused to let you carry a single item. With your bags in his hand, he opened your front door and dropped your bags off in the kitchen. 

The sound of his front door opening was all too familiar and it was no surprise that Haechan rushed downstairs, having returned only maybe half an hour before you, and chirped, “Baby, you’re home!”

You wrapped your arms around him. Haechan gently hugged you back, careful not to harm you. His warmth was appreciated, but remembering you had a little surprise, you pulled back. “Don’t get mad.”

Haechan gave you a look. “Why would I get mad?”

Surprisingly on cue, Jeno returned from the kitchen, trailing, “I put the food in the...” 

Jeno and Haechan locked glances as it was like a deer crossing paths with a mountain lion. Though you could feel Haechan tense, rather than his hold slackening, it tightened. You could see the anger flickering onto his face within a blink. “What is he doing in our house?”

“I just said don’t get mad,” you groaned, winding a hand through your hair. You cocked your head towards Jeno and said to him, “Jeno, thank you for helping me out today. I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t. I’m endlessly indebted to you,” Jeno quipped, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

“Damn right,” Haechan murmured under his breath. 

Nudging him in the side, you ignored Haechan’s whine of pain. “Well, get home safe. Thank you again.”

“No problem. Have a good night,” Jeno said, seeing himself out. 

“Get home safe?” Haechan repeated when Jeno disappeared. 

You heaved a little breath and asked, “Do you want him to die or something?”

“Well…”

“Stop,” you hissed, breaking out of his arms and moving to a chair. “He really helped me out today. My car broke down and he came to check it out. Then, when the mechanic took my car, he volunteered to help me with my errands.”

Haechan followed behind you, confused. “What? Why is this my first time hearing about this?”

“Because you had a work emergency and it wasn’t worth interrupting you over. I can handle stuff by myself, you know.”

“I know you can, but…,”

“But you’d rather me call you than the guy that fucked you over, yeah, I know,” you huffed. 

“You just finished my sentence.”

Your brows furrowed, wondering how that was in any way significant. “So?”

“So, this is going in the completely wrong direction,” Haechan said, cooling off for your sake. The last thing you needed was stress or a petulant baby daddy. “Let’s calm down and go upstairs.”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to oppose him, but closed them when you realized you’d fallen short of things to say. “Fine.”

Haechan helped you to the bedroom. The stairs were definitely a problem lately, courtesy of the additional pressure on your uterus. You had to be extra careful coming up them now. 

When you were sitting on your bed, Haechan quietly came beside you. You released a tiny breath, not pleased or disgruntled, but of the will to leave whatever just happened downstairs. It was to be expected. 

After a minute of silence, Haechan finally said, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be.”

“No, I should be. You know I never want to make you feel like I think that you can’t do anything yourself. But I need you to know that I’m still there for you to lean on when you need me.”

Thankful that he was lying down, you lowered yourself to rest your head on his chest. Your lips were tugged into a faint smile. “Do you remember our first date?”

Haechan cocked brow. “The real one, or the unofficial first date?”

I still think the unofficial date was the real one, but whatever. Obviously, you would never say that aloud, because then it would spark the debate over what your actual first date was. You ignored his question and continued, “You said that you would never try to control me, because you’re a grown man and I’m a grown woman.”

“Have I?”

You answered bluntly, “No, you haven’t. That was five years ago, you know. I’m pregnant with our baby and even if I hate this next part, I have to depend on you a little more now.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should make a sign-in sheet for everybody that enters your life,” Haechan said.

“Two things can be true at once.” 

Haechan said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. You were so similar. That was why your relationship worked. Both of you needed time to yourselves, but the fact you were having a baby together forced you to readjust. 

It wasn’t just about what you or Haechan needed anymore. Your two babies would be entering the world any day now and they took precedence in your lives now. There would be difficult choices and there would be compromises. For both of you. 

You found his fingers, blindly lacing your fingers through them. “I don’t forgive him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh.”

You continued, “I think I probably will, eventually, but not yet. Not right now.”

“You said that I would rather you call me than the guy that fucked me over,” Haechan rewinded, squeezing your hand. 

You made a face. “Yeah, I did, but I was irritated and I cut you off. It’s a bad habit that I still haven’t let go of. And it will probably happen again.”

Haechan snorted. “You weren’t wrong, but at the same time, I think I might forgive him too. Not right now, obviously, but eventually. Like you said.”

“Why?” You were confused. You saw how Haechan’s demeanor switched on a dime when he noticed Jeno was in his house. 

“Because he helped you. And anyone that treats you respectfully without an ulterior motive is alright in my book.”

There was movement in your belly and it wasn’t the babies for once. It was the butterflies. 

Haechan draped his other arm over you, smiling gently as his hand touched your belly. “By the way, is this a good time to mention that I have something to tell you?”

Your face tensed with curiosity. “You’ve already put it out there. Might as well cough it up.”

“Okay, well…,” Haechan started. His confidence seemed to be dissipating. “I was thinking that we should go on a babymoon before the kids get here.”

A single brow lifted from your face. “What?”

“Like a honeymoon, but it’s not a honeymoon. It’s a babymoon,” Haechan explained vaguely, sitting up in a way that meant he was serious. 

“Okay, but wouldn’t we go on a babymoon after we had the baby?”

Haechan gave you a look. “Baby, do you really think that we're going to have that kind of time after the babies are born?”

When he put it like that, the concept made a little more sense. “Fair point. Where would we go though?”

Haechan shrugged. “I was thinking Florida, but of course I’m open to suggestions. This is an us thing.”

“Florida’s good with me,” you said without complaint. 

“Then, Florida it is.”

Only two days later, you were on a plane to Florida with ample snacks and water. Haechan didn’t like to waste any time and you didn’t understand the point in waiting either. The clock was ticking and you were already in the third trimester. 

Sure, it was a last-minute vacation, but you checked in with your doctors and after a few evaluations, they had little problem with you traveling through air for a couple of weeks. 

Florida, specifically Miami, was ripe with obnoxiously hot weather in spite of the faded summer. December was similar in California, cheerful and sunny with occasional rain showers. Given that you were raised in the north, it was an exciting change of pace. 

Which was why you were glaring at Haechan in disappointment when you watched him pull three sets of familiar black leather from his suitcase. Your arms were crossed. “Did you really need to pack three different leather jackets?”

“Yes, absolutely,” he said without hesitating. “Come on, babe, you love seeing me in black leather. It’s what made you fall for me.”

You mercilessly quipped, “Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s what made me turn you away.”

“Whatever,” Haechan retorted, pulling another leather jacket from his suitcase. 

All you could do was shake your head. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear the same leather jacket twice.”

Haechan chuckled. “Now that’s an exaggeration. Besides, I need to have plenty to pass down to our kids. They’re gonna have to look extra cool when we go biking together. I can’t be seen with anything less.”

Your heart draped over your racing heart. “Haechan, you cannot take our kids on a motorcycle.”

“Of course not. Not with you knowing about it.”

Your heart was skipping. You were absolutely going to need to have a conversation with his mother. He’s definitely his father’s son. 

“I was kidding. It was a joke,” Haechan said playfully, but the mischievousness in his countenance was obvious. 

You rolled your eyes. “Sure it was.”

Whether it was or wasn’t, Haechan would never tell you. You would just have to cling to hope that he wouldn’t do something like that without your knowledge. Though you trusted him endlessly, the little snicker coming from his parted lips made you a little unsure. 

Then, the vacation started, and you tried to keep your mind from drifting towards the aftermath of pregnancy. Well, as much as you could with the added pressure weighing down your every footstep. Haechan didn’t want to leave you out of his sight for the next two weeks lest something happened to you.

Though you weren’t due for another five weeks, he wasn’t taking any chances. He waited close by when he surprised you with a prenatal massage and always kept your phones charged in case of emergencies. 

He’s going to be a wonderful father, spoke the smitten voice in your head in rhythm with your soaring heartbeat. He was vigilant, careful. You knew with total confidence that your children would be in the greatest of hands. 

Still, in spite of your mutual worries, neither of you would allow them to stand in the way of your fun. He wandered around the beach with you, sticking your toes in hot sand and taking a dip in the water.

Sporting a two piece swimsuit, you felt somewhat self-conscious meandering just shy of the shore in front of so many people. Though you’d convinced yourself that you were doing a good job at hiding the truth, Haechan grabbed your hand and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” It was an obvious lie, because you replied way too quickly. 

Haechan’s steps slowed, cocking his head to look at you. “That’s a lie. You answered too fast. And you didn’t ask me why I asked.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s just… that I feel a little exposed.”

Even though that was vague as hell, Haechan knew exactly what you meant and he wouldn’t stand for it for even just a second. “Babe, you’re beautiful. That’ll never change, even if your body wil,” he said, stopping dead in his tracks. 

Your eyes stung with tears. You’d been outside lately, but never this exposed. Never this far into your pregnancy. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t feel like this.”

Haechan shook his head. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. You can feel however the fuck you want. Just remember that I love you regardless of what you look like. And your body’s only changing to cater to the life we’re about to bring into the world.”

That reminder was all you needed. As long as you had Haechan’s love and enough of your own to supply your children, everything else ceased to matter. 

For half a second, you thought about how tired he must’ve been of having to provide you reassurance, but you shooed the thought away. Everything Haechan did for you was because he cared. There were more than a handful of times where Haechan would randomly confess how gorgeous he thought you were and how much he loved you. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

Haechan set his arm at your backside. “You have nothing to thank me for. It’s the truth.”

“I know, but I don’t know how I would do any of this without you. You make everything easier. I feel like I can breathe as long as you’re with me.”

Haechan’s heart was unstill. He couldn’t imagine his life any other way. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he confessed, the sound of his voice featherlight. 

You wanted to test that theory. Mischievous, you squeezed his hand and leaned onto his shoulder, asking, “Would you rather go back to the room?”

What that meant was obvious to Haechan, but it still surprised him. Your sex drive wasn’t as active lately. And not only that, but he was too busy becoming a father to focus on his libido. “Would you be there?”

“I would do a lot more than that,” you retorted. 

Haechan pressed, “But would you want to?”

“Babe, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have asked.”

Haechan nodded. It’s not like you were ever afraid to tell him what you wanted. Or what you didn’t want, for that matter. Plus it had been a lifetime since the two of you had sex, and he couldn’t blame you for wanting to get it in before exhaustion became the only thing that drew you to bed. “Say less.”

The walk back to those canopy chairs was eager. Haechan wanted to return to the room as quickly as he could, but patiently remained at your side. 

After collecting your beach towels and rinsing off loose sand (as much as you could in public), you and Haechan walked side-to-side back to the hotel. The sight of your suite coming into view five minutes later made you release a shaky breath of relief.

You and Haechan locked lips almost the second you stood behind the door. Haechan couldn’t wait any longer; he was bursting. Ever since you introduced the idea some twenty minutes ago, all he could think about was putting his hands on you. 

His hands were quick, loosening the string behind your back. Some weeks had passed since he touched you like this. Maybe a month. Now he was remembering what it was like to be caught in your path. 

You separated yourself from him, exhaling, “Bed.”

Haechan grabbed you by the waist and guided you to the bed. When you were there, you climbed your own way up the mattress, with him following closely after. A hand crept into your bare chest and the other behind you, gently craning you onto your back.

Your lips connected again. Fire ascended over you, starting in your heart and stretching elsewhere. His lips were so pretty and kissable. Throwing your mouth against his and sucking on his tongue was something you simply never got bored of. You just couldn’t explain it. 

Haechan pulled back again a couple of moments later, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “Better?” he asked, eyes sparkling with wonder.  

“Mm-hm,” you sighed contentedly, lacing your fingers through his beautiful head of hair.  

Haechan extended an arm down your calf, teasing the skin before cycling your legs into the air and ripping your panties almost right from underneath you. He so badly wanted to touch you everywhere, gnawing at his lip with an insatiable hunger. “I’ll never get tired of this,” Haechan said wantonly. “Tired of you.”

That was without question. You could feel his half-hard cock growing at the edge of your swollen thigh. Arousal shot through him like a firework and it would take little to nothing to get him excited.

Your heart throbbed in sync with your pussy and your leg, still in Haechan’s itching palms, tensed insatiably. There was nothing that turned you on like being wanted. 

Wishing he would take off those stupid swim trunks, a dangerous thought wrecked through your brain and you asked, “Can I do something this time?”

“Not a chance.”

You snapped, “And why not?”

“Because it’s my responsibility to take care of you. And right now, I just wanna make sure you get wet enough to take my dick,” Haechan replied. 

Your next best option was begging. “Please? I’ll get wet just from seeing your pretty face scrunch. Killing two birds with one stone.”

Haechan’s lips parted to turn you down, but he started to mull over your suggestion. Hope nipped at your heart, twinkling in your eyes. Blowjobs shouldn't've hurt the babies. And he knew you wouldn’t be able to lie on your back for very long anyway. “Fine. How do you wanna do this?”

You were beaming. With Haechan’s help, you kneeled on the mattress before crawling over to the edge of the bed. “I read something online. Let’s try you standing here while I lay on my side.”

Per your request, Haechan shifted to the edge of the bed, stepping out of his swim trunks where his dick was desperately poking around for attention. 

You leaned onto your left side, excitement making your heart beat quicker. And your pussy throb, but you were happily focused on someone else right now. “Feel free to use my mouth.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Haechan said, though he would try not to. 

Pressing your lips against his inner thighs, you brushed them over his skin, feeling his legs tense at your touch. So, so sensitive. You could only imagine what would happen when you sucked his cock into your mouth. 

You reached out to grab a fistful of his cock, just after spitting into the palm of your hand, and started to pump him slowly. More often than not, you started off tentatively; you liked to tease him. There was no point in getting him off if you couldn’t see the irritability and desperation on his handsome face. 

Haechan’s breath hitched. His cock was twitching. You seemed to always know what to do with your hands, in spite of the fact that you never let his cum too quickly. But you knew exactly how to wreck him. 

“You don’t have to tease, you know,” he said, voice a little distant like he wasn’t even there.

“I know,” you replied offhandedly. “But I want to.” And I know you pretend not to like it. 

Haechan huffed, but he was only half upset. Part of him liked when you had total, unmitigated control of his pleasure. 

You didn’t release your grip on his stiffened cock when you’d had your fill of teasing him until you sucked the tip into your warm mouth. There was a breath on Haechan’s end, light and shaky, and you couldn’t wait to replicate it. 

Your cheeks were hollowed. You were eager to take most of him down your throat, but were cautious about your pacing, given that it had been a minute since you sucked the soul out of Haechan. Even you were reluctant to give him head during the first trimester because of the morning sickness. 

“Fuck,” Haechan whined shakily. He was remembering what you said about using your mouth even though he hated that the idea appealed to him.

Haechan’s fingers gripped the sheets, opting not to touch you in case he went too far. His face was tense with pleasure and those featherlight moans were like music to your ears. You took more of him, hopeful to throat every inch, and looked into his hazy eyes to watch as it broke him just the way you knew it would. 

The heat was getting to be too much. His thoughts were racing by quicker than he could articulate them, all coming from his mouth being gentle sounds. But his head was saying, She’s going to be the death of me. And I’m okay with that. 

Then, he couldn’t hold back any longer, and started to thrust into your mouth. Though there wasn’t any warning and you only half expected it, you somehow willed yourself to relax. It was so goddamn hot. Pretending that it was your cunt his stiff cock was fucking got you even wetter. 

Even you were moaning and the vibrations shooting through his cock made the room whirl a little. And as if it couldn’t get any better, you pinched the skin of his thigh between your nails, plucking a lethal whine out of him. “That’s making me crazy, baby,” he exhaled, another groan escaping him when he met your stare.

You pressed your tongue flat against his shaft and Haechan swore he saw Michael Jackson looking down at him for a second. Please, was at the back of his throat, but he didn’t want to cum. Not right now. He wanted to cum when he was deep inside of you. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Stop,” he panted, blinking as if to clear the haze from his eyes. 

You grinded to a halt when you heard those words and noticed him no longer fucking your mouth, wiping saliva from your lips with the back of your hand. Your cheeks hurt, but it was worth it. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna cum,” Haechan said, gravel. “Not unless I’m inside you. And even then, I might nut too quick.”

You waved off his concern and replied, “It’s okay if you do. I might tap out soon.”

“Duly noted. What’s the plan?”

You beckoned Haechan forward with your hand, watching him creep closer. When he bent down to your level, you whispered something in his ear. 

A few moments later, Haechan was behind you in the bed, your naked back flush against his bare chest. Your breaths were thick and rough while you became entrapped in his body’s warmth. Bending your knees, you counted down the seconds until he would be inside, holding your breath when he entered from behind you. 

And you released it when Haechan grunted at the squeeze of your vice-like cunt upon the first couple of thrusts. You were soaked, just like you said. Getting him off must’ve really done a number.  

His voice was so close to your ear, closer than you thought. “You know the drill, baby. Tell me if you can’t take it.”

You nodded. It was all you could do not to splinter then and there. 

Haechan was tentatively prodding, slow. He was careful not to do you any harm, because if he did, he’d never forgive himself. Luckily enough, what you were feeling was far from painful. With every inch he reluctantly pushed into you, your head was deeper into the clouds. 

There was nothing like being skin to skin with your lover, heart to heart. That was the better half of the appeal when it came to sex nowadays. Pleasure was seeked by the togetherness of intimacy, less than the emphasis of orgasm. 

But he certainly still knew how to get you there. 

“You always feel so good,” you moaned, stretching your hand to reach his forearm. This whole trip had been nothing short of romantic thus far. 

Something about your praise made all of the blood flow to Haechan’s dick, heavy and quick. “You ready for me?”

“Mm-hm. Move, baby,” you whispered, knowing he was testing the waters. “Just relax. You’re not going to break me, I promise.”

Haechan acknowledged your consent with the quietest of sounds, starting to pace himself in and out. His rhythm was steady, but none too rough. It was loving. 

It tickled when his lips grazed the back of your throat in a litter of kisses, breathless giggles escaping you. Wheeling your head, you turned to give him a peck on the mouth, watching the smile coax its way onto Haechan’s face. He has the prettiest smile ever. And I’ll do anything to protect it. 

Anything and everything. It was no secret that Haechan doubted himself sometimes. He rarely spoke to you about it, not wanting to lump his feelings on top of yours because he thought yours were more significant, given that you were the one bringing these children to life. But you wish he knew how incredible he was to you. 

Though you never failed to remind him. Even now, just looking into his eyes with total adoration, Haechan couldn’t understand. He wanted to see himself the way that you saw him. Thanks to your relentlessness, he was getting a little closer. 

Reaching out to touch his cheek, you whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

“Fuck,” Haechan groaned, like those words alone would be the death of him. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. 

You playfully teased, “You always say the most romantic things.”

Haechan’s face flushed, but those explicatives were at the tip of his tongue. When he was deep inside you like this, his hands cupping your hips, it couldn’t be helped. “That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing,” he lied, losing himself with every sweet thrust.

Your lips parted in a laugh, but it was cut off by a moan. Between the sight and sound, Haechan couldn’t tell which was better. Watching you burst with rapture turned him on. Listening to you burst with rapture turned him on. You turned him on.

All you could feel was ecstasy. It had been said, but the whole world stopped when you were alone with Haechan and it didn’t affect you. When he was fucking all the stress out of your body, in spite of the heat scorching down your skin, you could somehow breathe. 

You faced away from him again, eyes fluttered closed. You were imagining him, even though he was right behind you. There was no space between your bodies and sometimes it was as if you were one person. Like you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. 

Which was ironic. Your first encounter wasn’t so long ago, even if it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. You still vividly recalled wanting nothing to do with him. 

Yet here you were. Carrying his baby, his offspring. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Haechan extended his hand over your lower stomach, reaching out to touch your clit. Your reaction was instant. You gasped, elevating to highs you never knew were in reach. Sex hit different knowing the extremes you were capable of when Haechan was giving himself to you completely. 

“I’m so close, baby,” Haechan warned. He could feel it approaching, but it didn’t matter to him if he didn’t cum either. 

That excited you. Your core throbbed and you purred, “Give it to me, baby boy. Cum inside of me.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Haechan told you, coming up on the edge. He rocked into you harder, wincing his eyes closed. 

You didn’t skip a beat. “Why? Too afraid you’re gonna bust a nut?”

When Haechan said nothing, you grinned to yourself. Then, his other hand came to your boobs, gently touching your nipples. You sighed out, breathless.

Now it was you unraveling. Like clockwork, your back started to arch away from him, your body too stimulated from his hands on your nipple and clit. It just felt so good - the whole room started to spin. 

Moving your hair out of the way, Haechan leaned even closer to you. If possible. You were obsessed with his mouth nipping at the shell of your ear. Voice at the back of your neck. “You’re gonna be a great mother. I can feel that you are,” he said, breath tickling your neck. 

You whimpered, listening to his gentle tone factored with the hot sound of sex thumping throughout the room. 

“Our kids are going to love you from the moment that they lie on your chest and get to see you. They’ll grow up lucky that they get to call you their mother, because even before they were born, you’ve done nothing but your best to care for and nurture them.”

“Haechan…,” you trailed. Your eyes watered. 

Haechan added, “And I’ll be there, proud as ever. Because if there’s any woman that’s fit to raise a baby, it’s you.”

Only seconds ago you didn’t think you would be able to go any longer, sensing yourself on the brink of tapping out, but that spiral ripped it out of you. You shuddered with climax, shifting away from his touch. The sweetest cry escaped you and you found his hand to anchor yourself through your orgasm.

That did it for Haechan in the end. He came just at a glimpse of you finishing on his cock, moaning your name darkly. Stifling his sounds into your shoulder. You milked his load out of him and Haechan swore it was mind-numbing to its core.

A moment passed before you each stilled. Sticky sweat connected your gleaming skin as you released open-mouthed exhales in an attempt to stabilize your breath. For a second, eyes fluttering, your brain was peacefully empty. 

Minutes later, you cocked your head and squeaked, “I’m going to the bathroom. Just rest. You don’t need to follow me.”

Haechan nodded, finally pulling out of you. Something about times like this made his heart swell and his skin swelter. Those moments of silence after. 

Wobbling inside the bathroom attached to your suite, you shut the door behind yourself, in spite of knowing Haechan would probably come in a minute or two. There was a gigantic smile on your face. Finding somebody that cared about you so much was a blessing. 

You meandered over to the toilet so that you could pee. Then, when you finished, you came to the sink to wash your hands of germs. The mirror in front of you was wide and tall. You stared at your reflection, letting out a contented little breath, and set your palms on your tummy. 

As to be expected, Haechan’s voice sounded from behind the door when you didn’t return a couple of moments after he heard you flush. “Baby, are you good? Can I come in?”

You quipped, “Haven’t you come inside of enough things?”

Haechan snickered, twisting the knob. Very funny. He was pleasantly surprised to see you slowly rubbing a hand over your pregnant belly, softly smiling even if you didn’t realize that you were.

Haechan came up to you. Your heart quickened when you sensed his warmth behind you, kissing your shoulder. “Was I too much?”

You shook your head. “It was amazing. I didn’t think I would make it that far.”

“What can I say? I’ve never not blown a woman’s mind,” Haechan joked, lips brushing the back of your neck. A litter of love bruises were there. 

You rolled your eyes. Then, you giggled. 

It was silent for a little while. Both of you were too in awe to speak. With your focus drawn entirely to your children, it was all too easy to become paralyzed with adoration. And they weren’t even born yet.

Haechan’s hand came around your hip, dropping below your ribs. You could feel him hesitating - his body tensed against your skin - but he ultimately said, “Not to be that guy, but I’m kind of glad you’re taking a step back.”

“Really?” You knew that. His happiness was never not clear to you. 

“Yeah, baby, I mean…,” he trailed, thinking. Longing. “Spending more time with you, bonding as a family has really changed me for the better, I think.”

I know what you mean, came your thoughts, but you just hummed. Haechan knew that you were listening. And you knew that he wanted to talk. Your fingers crept up his arm, reassuring. 

Haechan’s mind was racing. Blaring. “Becoming a father hasn’t just changed my life. It’s changed the way I look at life. Life is short, baby. The most beautiful moments of life are short, but they’re meaningful, because I have you. And I’ve got to make that count.”

You shook your head. “We’ve got to make that count.”

Haechan nodded, chuckling. “Yes, you’re exactly right. This is a group effort.”

Your eyes lifted to look at him in the mirror, and you finally realized your lips were curled. “You’re gonna be a good father, you know,” you said levelly. 

Haechan let his hands wander over your belly, running them gently over the flesh. There was a twinkle in his gaze and a beaming smile at his lips. “I can believe that now. And I owe all of the credit to you. I know what I want and who I am. You’ve made me see things from a different point of view.”

“Ironically, I feel the same way,” you said, finding some amusement in this moment of clarity. “It seems like only yesterday I was terrified of having a baby. I didn’t want things to change. The future was so scary.”

“And it’s not anymore?” Haechan asked.

“A little,” you confessed. “But knowing that I have you makes it easier. And knowing that our kids have someone like you, I can relax.”

“You know what they say. The best matches are people who bring out the best in each other.”

You bobbed your head. “Sometimes, I can’t tell if I grew because of you, or if I grew with you. But I think it’s both now. And now we get to do that for a lifetime.”

Yeah, I get that, Haechan thought. You don’t have a single clue, do you? Just how badly I wanna seal the deal, tie the knot. But I’ll take it one step at a time, because I know how you are. You’re slow and steady, baby. And I’m reckless and quick, but we make it work, because you know what you want. And so do I. 

“Yes,” Haechan sighed happily. “Yes, we do.”

A quick tear escaped your eye, but you wiped it away. You were overwhelmed in the best way. 

Haechan kissed your cheek, knowing all of your pleasures and your pains. And he kept them inside his heart in a vault. “I hope they have your eyes.”

Your brows furrowed in wonder. “I think our genes might be evenly distributed.”

“That is not how it works, baby.”

I know, but I want to have hope. It’s wishful thinking,” you replied, sighing. 

Haechan chuckled. “Either way, they’ll be beautiful. And they have a handsome father and breathtaking mother to thank.”

“That’s so vain,” you retorted. But you didn’t disagree. 

Haechan kneeled to the floor, sitting just shy of your stomach. His hands were still lovingly touching you. “Hi, son and daughter. It’s Daddy. I’m sure you’re sick of my voice by now, but that’s too bad. You have to deal with it for eighteen years.”

You shook your head, a stupid smile on your face. Your cheeks hurt. Somehow, you just couldn’t get enough of this boy. 

“Mommy says that Daddy is vain. Can you believe that? Me, of all people, vain. I mean, if you look as good as me one day, you will be, too,” Haechan said exaggeratedly.

“Babe, be careful what you tell our kids,” you chastised. 

“She’s scolding me now. Mommy can get scary when she’s angry, you know. You better not wind up on the receiving end of her wrath.”

You snorted. 

“Anyways, all I really wanted to say is that Mommy and Daddy love you very much. We can’t wait to see you,” Haechan whispered. Your heart burst when he pressed his lips to your belly.

You just knew that he was the one for you. 

The rest of the vacation - or babymoon as your babies’ daddy enthusiastically dubbed it - was a breeze. Before you knew it, you were on a flight back home. Beach air and rushing water was over. And California had never been more foreign. 

Back in your own home, you spent your hours reminiscing in between yoga sessions. You were grateful that Jaehyun suggested the babymoon. It was a much needed period of relaxation to distract you from the looming disaster of childbirth. 

And you were sitting just at its door. Because your pregnancy was considered high-risk and you were not inclined to have a c-section delivery, your doctor recommended labor induction. When you didn’t go into labor after twenty four hours, you started to feel unnerved. 

You had nightmares about what would happen if things went wrong sometimes. Your doctor and childbirth educator made sure that the risks were outlined and clear. One wrong move and you could lose your kids, not to mention that anything could happen to you. 

That was why Doctor Stakes wasn’t willing to risk natural birth. Having twins alone constituted a high-risk pregnancy and they were actively monitoring your babies positions to make sure they weren’t breech.

Haechan was restless, but he tried to keep it together for your sake. He called your name, hand in yours. “Baby, I can feel you tensing. Breathe,” he told you calmly. 

Your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

“I know. I am, too, but I’m right here with you. We can overcome anything as long as we’re together.”

You bobbed your head and sucked in a breath. Had he not been there with you, it would’ve been a hell of a lot scarier. 

An eternity and a half seemed to pass before you finally went into labor. The contractions started at a distance and you likened them to the preparation trials you endured during the second trimester. Then, they were shorter apart, and the pain intensified so much it felt as if there was no air. 

At the first nick of pain, you immediately pressed for an epidural. Your childbirth already wasn’t natural. And if they thought you would be able to do this without medication, they completely overestimated you.

It took fifteen minutes for a nurse to administer the epidural and another fifteen for the effects to settle in. Haechan never let go of your hand unless he absolutely needed to and he was staring at you with a newfound respect. And his respect for you was already in the heavens. 

“This is crazy,” you wheezed, pulse quickened. 

“It is,” Haechan agreed. “But you can do this. You’re stronger than I ever have been.”

You tugged your lips into a smile. “I’ve been thinking about us. Instead of the risks and stuff.”

That was a pretty good idea. Haechan said, “Talk to me. Tell me about it.”

“We got a new house, like I said. The kids are roughly five years old. They’re helping you make omelets because you know that I like them. There’s a cat. We let them name it. And I’m completely oblivious to what’s going on.”

Haechan snickered. That sounded like his offspring and he hadn’t even met them yet. 

You added, “I thought about something else. There’s a private photoshoot. You’re the photographer, of course. The kids are in your leather jackets, but they’re oversized on them. The whole thing is so cute.”

Haechan kissed your cheek. His heart was thumping in his chest like a hammer and there was a sudden gush of warmth shooting through him. “I bet it is. I can see it playing out in my head right now. We should have a shoot like that one day. With all of us in black leather.”

You chuckled. It was tempting. 

There was so much action in the room. People were moving from place to place to ensure that your babies were delivered safely. Your midwife assured you that the process was moving smoothly. 

With that out in the open, you could breathe a little easier. Though you and Haechan still had no intention of separating from each other. The nurses would have to forcibly pry him away from you.

“It’s time to push,” came your midwife’s level voice. 

The nurses were helping you realize when you needed to push. The movements felt like a distant pressure in your lower back, courtesy of the epidural. None of what was happening to you seemed real and all left to ground you in reality was the knowledge that it was really happening. 

“This is happening,” you said shakily. “Oh my god. This is actually happening.”

Haechan uttered the dreaded words, “Babe, relax.”

“No! I’m never doing this again!” you snapped dramatically, overwhelmed with all the motion. “You need to get a vasectomy!”

Haechan took your outburst in stride. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Fuck,” you exhaled, an invisible cool shiver running down your spine. 

The first push alone was exhausting. You started to feel lightheaded and as if you would faint from the pressure. There was a lull of relief when the nurse permitted you to take a break to regain strength. 

Tears stung your eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Haechan told you in a heartbeat. 

Your confidence in yourself started to dissipate, but with your faithful partner and a dedicated team of medical staff reassuring you through the process, you forced the negativity out of your head and focused on your children. 

“Another push,” your midwife urged. 

You took one big, stabilizing breath before it was ripped out of your lungs again. Your legs had gone completely numb. There was still a slight degree of discomfort in your back that heightened a little with every push, but you winced your eyes closed and rid the thoughts. 

“Breathe with me, baby,” Haechan said during the next break. 

With what little strength you had, you nodded your head and followed his breathing patterns. Your heart seemed more tired than the rest of you as you physically shook. The blood was rushing through you to a painful degree.  

You squeezed Haechan’s hand, which was what you had already been doing. His metacarpals were brave soldiers. “Tell me something.”

In typical Haechan fashion, he was cool as a cucumber. You would never guess that he was terrified for your life, but he pulled himself together. “Anything?”

“Yes. Anything.”

“When I was eleven, I wanted a leather jacket exactly like the black and red one Michael Jackson wore in Thriller,” he confessed. “Then, my mom got me one. And I hated it.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why?” 

“It was black and orange.”

You snickered. Now you were thinking about an angry little Haechan being a sulky and petulant mess. 

When it was time for the final shoves, you had just enough energy to will yourself to keep pushing. Your body was being put through the most gruesome test ever. But you kept the negativity to a minimum and thought only of your family for your own sanity. 

And then it was done. There were loud whimpers. Your baby girl was given to you first, followed by your son. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more occupied with emotion. 

Haechan gawked in awe. For a moment he couldn’t even believe that this wasn’t just a dream and fought off tears the best he could. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the tears blurring your vision. Your kids were here at last and they were the light of your life. 

The first hour was spent making plenty of skin-to-skin contact and bonding with your babies. Haechan was smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. He was already obsessed with the tiny little humans he’d helped make and all of your mutual sacrifice seemed so worth it. 

There were many things that had to happen before you could leave the hospital, but two days later, you were at home resting. Sleep was all you wanted (even though your vocal children had other plans). Which, after the exhausting process you endured only days before, was well-deserved. 

One week passed since you were discarded from the hospital. After a period spent catching up on rest to the best of your ability, you started to accept visitors. Chaewon and Jaemin, the wonderful godparents that they were, assisted with fielding phone calls and text messages from curious loved ones. 

The mood in your home was different the day you and Haechan allowed visitors. Your bedroom was like a club and Haechan was serving as a bouncer, letting them in one-by-one in case you got overwhelmed. 

Chaewon had seen the babies a little earlier than the others. She was your best friend, after all. “They’re so cute,” she’d gushed. 

The babies in question were nested comfortably on your chest. They were also resting. There was a smile tugging at your lips, irresistible. Your heart was at peace. 

Ironically, Mark was the first to show up. Again. “Yo, yo, yo. Where’s my niece and nephew?”

“Shh. They’re sleeping,” Haechan scolded from the door. 

Mark’s eyes were wide, lips parted. “They must be sleepy, huh?”

You quipped, “Yeah. Apparently, wailing all night long is exhausting.”

“I was thinking they’d be tired of Haechan’s shit, but yeah, that checks out too,” Mark retorted. 

Haechan cursed under his breath. Then, he said aloud, “If I wasn’t a better man, I would pummel you to the ground.”

“A better man, my ass,” Mark taunted. His words were promptly followed by a gasp and he put his hands over his mouth. “I meant… my butt.”

You giggled. 

Mark switched on a dime. Concern washed over his face, tenderness in his eyes. “Dude, are you okay, though? Like, pregnancy is huge. It had to be eventful.”

“It was a lot of things,” you murmured, briefly bringing yourself back to that moment. You weren’t going to miss it too much, but it was beautiful. “I went through so many emotions. But I’m happy we’re all here.”

Mark bobbed his head. “Yeah, I am, too.”

When he exited the room, Winter promptly entered. And she gasped at the first sight of your babies, eyes dampening. “Oh my god!”

Her reaction made you snicker. “Yes, I know. They’re adorable.”

“Understatement of the year,” she drawled. “These are by far the cutest kids I’ve ever seen in my life.”

You grinned. “Thanks.”

Jaemin poked around the corner. Much like Chaewon, he had already seen your babies and spoken to them, cooing and babbling. “Somebody’s sleepy,” he retorted. 

You bobbed your head. “They should be.”

Jaemin didn’t miss a beat, “Guess they got sick of putting up with this guy.”

Haechan’s eyes narrowed and he hissed, “You’re late. Mark already made that joke.”

Winter giggled. You stifled one on your boyfriend’s behalf. 

There was a gap in between the next visits large enough for you to take a nap and you didn’t rouse until shortly before your fifth visitor. 

f

As if it wasn’t obvious, you ignored Jeno’s nervousness. He looked a little surprised, lips parted when he caught a glimpse of your kids from the door. After he made small talk with Haechan, he entered and said, “Wow.”

Your babies were awake now. And surprisingly calm. For now. “I know.”

Jeno cleared his throat. “They’re beautiful. Congratulations, both of you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, staring adoringly at your kids. 

Jeno searched tirelessly for things to say. He didn’t want the wrong words to come out of his mouth, but you personally inviting him over shocked him. He asked, “How was labor?”

“Laborious,” you replied dryly. 

Jeno snorted. 

Haechan wasn’t shy to brag, “She was a champ. I’ve never been more proud.”

Your face was warm. And so was your heart. 

“I’m sure she was,” Jeno said, gleaming. 

You tilted your head. “Would you like to hold one of them?”

Jeno gawked. “Can I?”

You nodded. 

“Okay. Yeah, sure,” Jeno stammered out. 

Glancing down at your son, you cooed, “You wanna go to Uncle Jeno? Yeah?”

Shock flickered over Jeno’s face, as if he couldn’t believe the words leaving your mouth. With maternal cautiousness, you handed him your closest child, which happened to be your son. Jeno watched for his head without having to be instructed, holding your baby as if he would shatter. 

These babies were a part of you and Haechan, and Jeno swore that if there was anything you ever needed him to do for them, he wouldn’t hesitate to come running. 

“Hi,” Jeno greeted, smiling at your son. “You’re really lucky, you know. You have the best mom and dad on the whole planet.”

You smiled softly.

“Am I…,” Ryujin trailed, strolling down the hallway. Imagine her shock when she noticed Jeno standing there. “Late?”

Jeno cleared his throat. “Ryujin.”

Ryujin’s arms folded. “Jeno.”

“You look good,” Jeno said, mouth suddenly dry. 

Ryujin was eyeing him, skeptical, as if she still didn’t trust him. But you could see the sadness in her stare. “You, too,” she replied quietly. 

Jeno gently placed your son back in your arms, making sure he was secure before he released his grip. 

“We forgive him, Ryujin,” Haechan said, even if it took months. 

Ryujin’s eyes flickered. Jeno stepped in front of her and glanced at the floor. If there was something he wanted to tell her, he lacked the courage. 

“Look me in the eyes.”

Jeno did it. He would do anything to make his mistakes up to the people he owed to. 

Ryujin wrapped her arms around him. Jeno stiffened for a second, not expecting that of all reactions, but gently hugged her back. While they were reconciling, you and Haechan glanced at each other. There was a telepathic exchange of thought between the two of you. 

Then, Ryujin pulled back, and whined, “Ugh, I just realized something. We’re uneven again.”

Haechan snorted in disbelief. Of course that was what she was worried about. 

“Not if you include the kids plus Haechan and I’s future cat,” you quipped smartly. 

Ryujin beamed in amusement. “I think I can work with that.”

Glancing down at your two lovely kids, the cutest of hats on their tiny little heads, you grinned and said, “Yeah, so do I.”

#lee haechan smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct

[faexoxoxoxo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄

PAIRING: dark! coriolanus snow x capitol citizen! reader

SUMMARY: coriolanus has always loved you finally after years of paining and planning he finally has you . . .

TW: 18+, obsessive behaviour, smut, baby trapping . . .

You were an only child, a sole heiress to one of the oldest, and most affluent families in the capitol.

Given the position, it had always been expected you would find a husband of equal, if not higher standing. much to the delight of your parents, you'd found one; more specifically, he, the newly appointed president of Panem, had proposed to you .

It was during new years . . .

Over the years, your family had made a habit of hosting a large banquet to celebrate the holidays. Everyone received invitations, from academy faculty to business tycoons.

Of course, President Snow had been there too, talking to your father, clad in a black suit, his lips curled into the fakest smile you'd ever seen . . .

You could feel his cold, icy eyes following your every move throughout the evening, sending a shiver down your spine, as if at any moment a beast would pounce on you.

Any other time you could have feigned some sort of sickness and retired back to your room, but this was a special night, and as such, keeping public appearances and mingling with guests was a necessity, so you did what you always did: put on a fake smile and braved through.

Then something unexpected happened.

He proposed.

The fucking bastard proposed to you.

Just as the clock struck twelve, Coriolanus Snow got down on his knees in front of you, surrounded by the hundreds of guests, and he uttered the two cursed words.

“Marry me.”

Your cheeks felt hot, no doubt to onlookers; it seemed as if you were perhaps flattered. Who wouldn't be in the face of a man like Coriolanus Snow asking them to marry him?

No, you weren't flattered you were angry . . .

He'd cornered you he knew you couldn't reject him, not in front of all there people, not in front of your parents.

“Yes.”

Few moments passed before the three letter word came out of you, and your new fiance slipped the ring on to your fingers, it was pretty you would've admired it if not for who it was from.

There was no joy in your heart a strange feeling of numbness settling in when people cheered and came to congratulate you.

“Cheers! To the president and his lovely bride-to-be!”

“My my what fabulous pair!”

“Your children will be absolutely adorable!”

Their comments didn't help; no doubt, if not for the smirking Coriolanus holding you close to himself, your legs would've given out, leaving you a crumpling mess on the floor.

In contrast to your gloom, Coriolanus felt zealous; his smile for the first time in forever became genuine, softer even.

It was no secret. He had always fancied you from afar, ever since he saw you dancing at a gathering for the upper-class society of Panem.

You were beautiful—a purebred, a rose in full bloom.

No one deserved you—not the lowlife with his hand around your waist guiding your movements with the music, not the scum suitors your father planned to introduce you to—no one could have you except Coriolanus Snow.

He swore he'd restore his family name, swore he'd become the president, and then make you his wife.

Now, he finally, finally, had you.

It was worth it, every single drop of blood he'd spilled, to get to this point was worth it.

He knew you hated him, saw the fear in your eyes when he sought you out after his rise to power.

You had rejected him then, knowing full well that under all of his charming smiles there was something dark and twisted. It was true. Coriolanus was a monster, a monster with no intention of giving up. You would become Mrs. Snow, even if he had to force it on you.

What better way than a public display of affection . . .

His plan was a success; even if you weren't happy, Coriolanus was convinced that with time, he'd win you over. You couldn't hate him forever, not when he'd be your husband and the father of your children.

Your fiancé was a charismatic man, no doubt; he'd easily charmed your family. So much so that neither of your parents noticed your strained smile and reluctance when faced with your intended.

No one did, not your father, who'd been thrilled; he would be the president's father-in-law, which came with privileges, while your mother boasted endlessly to her friends of how you'd effortlessly captured the heart of President Snow.

Trapped, you were absolutely fucking trapped.

~~~~

The wedding was planned to be a grand affair, not that you'd cared much what flower arrangements the venue had or if they used silver or gold plates; it was all the same to you.

“Nothing but the best for my bride.”

Coriolanus, or Coryo as he insisted you call him, had told the wedding planners you never thought he'd be so invested in the wedding details, but he was, specifically in your dress. He had you try on at least fifty pieces before picking one.

“Can't wait to rip it off you,” he whispered into your ear, right before the staff guided you to the changing room.

After that, you avoided him at all costs.

Until your wedding day.

~~~~

You cried during the ceremony.

Reporters titled it as “tears of joy” and “happy bride.” If only they'd known . . .

“You may now kiss your bride”

You froze when Coriolanus's pulled up your veil, tear-stained eyes, meeting his blue one.

Then his lips met yours. It wasn't soft or sweet; it was hungry and possessive, like he wanted to show everyone how he owned you, and he did your fiance-no, your husband would never let you leave him, never.

~~~~

Coriolanus Snow was a man of his word.

He did, in fact, rip your dress off. The sound of tiny pearl buttons hitting the marble floor made you flinch, gasping softly as the cold air surrounded you.

Not giving you a chance to flee, he kissed you again, his hands wandered around your bare body.

Your husband had been insatiable during that night, not giving you a moment of rest as he made you take his cock over and over again, whispering sweet nothings and praises into your ears.

“You're so fucking tight, my good girl,” his hands gripped at your hips as he pushed himself into you, ignoring whatever tears or silent pleas you'd whimper out. “Who knew you'd be such a whore for my cock...” his face buried in the crook of your neck, leaving bites and marks.

At this rate, you'd have to wear a scarf tomorrow.

“Coryo- slow d-” His brutal pace doesn't stop, not even when your nails dig into his flesh, drawing blood that only seemed to spur him on.

“Gonna fuck you full of me until it takes...”

That makes you cry harder. “Nooo, Cory pull-out...” it was one thing to marry him, but children? you weren't ready... but he doesn't stop, not until he's cum as many times as possible deep inside your weeping pussy.

“It's necessary,” he tells you the morning after, when you're lying in bed, limbs tangled together, as he rubs circles on your naked back.

You stay silent, knowing what he meant. Coryo wanted you to get pregnant, not just out of love and desire to have an heir, someone of his blood, to carry the Snow name; his true purpose was to eliminate any room for escape you might have.

A child, a child, meant you'd forever be bound to him.

~~~

When you found out about your pregnancy, you secretly hoped it'd be a means to dim Coryo's interest in you.

“Husbands tend to cheat when their wives are pregnant ,” one of the ladies told you during a gathering. She'd meant it as a friendly warning to keep an eye on your husband and keep him interested.

But as it turned out, Coryo wasn't like other Capitol husbands. If anything, your pregnancy had made him more feral, constantly finding ways to bend you over any surface in your home, telling you how good you looked swollen with his baby.

“My pretty wife -fuck, so damn adorable with that little bump of yours - all mine—fuck, I did that”

It wouldn't end. Even after your daughter was born, Coryo told you he wanted more.

“She wants a sibling, don't you, Adeline?” he'd smirk, watching your face go pale, holding your daughter in his arms as she blabbered something and giggled, unaware of her father's plans or your unwillingness to indulge him.

Try as you might, your husband will always get his way, a fact that never changed over the years.

After all, everyone knows, “Snow lands on top.”

rewriting and reposting all my old works.

likes, comments and rebloggs are very appreciated ♡

#fae.xoxo #a ballad of songbirds and snakes #abosas #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x female!reader #tbosas #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow fic

[gurugirl]

A Good Boy | 1. Surrender

Summary: Harry's got the hots for his young stepmom and she's pretty fond of him too. But they're both trying really hard to be good. Loosely based on this ask.

A/N: This is stepmom!reader x virgin stepson!harry. There is a 7 year age gap and Harry met her at the age of 19. He is 21 in this story.

Word count: 21.4k words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, inappropriate relationship between a stepmom & virgin stepson, smut

A Good Boy Masterlist

Her husband, Leonardo, was the kind of man that could only be described as a provider. Not a lover, not a sweet man, not a gentle soul. Just a provider. Her mother asked her why she was marrying the older man, “Y/n he’s 15 years your senior! It’s preposterous! He’s rich but you can find real love…” She’d heard it all. But she was interested in having nice things. Being able to finish her art and history degree and go to the tennis club and shop with her girlfriends.

He also bought her the cutest little red Mercedes and the biggest diamond ring. And his house was- well it wasn’t just a house. It was an estate sat in the Hollywood hills near other celebrities and affluent humans (or robots she sometimes thought). She even had her own bedroom. It was an odd setup for sure, but a setup nonetheless.

Leonardo made it clear. He wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a pretty thing with a good head on her shoulders that he could fuck when he needed and buy nice things for. Someone to bring with him when he had to show face at events and parties who could hold a somewhat intelligent conversation. She could do that. And he wasn’t a bad-looking man either. He was fit and tall with a deep voice and his deep pockets were just the cherry on top.

Did this make her a gold digger? She supposed that yes, it did. But what of her husband? This was what he wanted too. No one was being tricked. Everything was very simple and clearly defined. Down to the fact that she could sleep with anyone she wanted as long as she was discreet and didn’t give him the details. The same went for Leo.

Though Y/n hadn’t been interested in sleeping with anyone else, she was certain Leo did on his business trips and “boys-only vacations” he often took with his friends.

Y/n wasn’t bothered by the lack of love or the fact that her marriage wasn’t conventional. She was getting everything she wanted and she was happy. Sure a little intimacy was nice but she had close friends and so far, that was all she needed.

.           .           .

“Leo! Marla is here with the Uber! I’ll see you later!” She shouted toward his study as she made her way out the door. It was Friday night. Girl’s night. Every other Friday she, Marla, Cyndee, and Gina met at Murphy’s Lounge to dance and drink a few too many martinis. It was always fun. Sometimes she flirted with some man who wanted to dance. But never anything more. She could have if she wanted. More. She could have done more but she never felt the need. No one interested her enough to make that sort of leap into partaking in the open aspect of her marriage.

The bar was full, as it usually was at 8 pm on a Friday night. Gina and Cyndee had already secured a table and had cocktails in hand when she and Marla got there.

And just like every time the four of them got together, they acted as if they hadn’t seen one another in ages. Sometimes they could be overly dramatic in their greetings but they genuinely appreciated one another.

“Okay. The first round is on me, but the rest is on Daddy Leo,” Cyndee bubbled out her words in laughter.

Y/n playfully smacked Cyndee’s arm, “Oh so now you’re calling my husband Daddy?!” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I am. He’s a Daddy, Y/n. Like, there’s no way you don’t call him Daddy when-“

Y/n placed her hand over Cyndee’s mouth, “Oh my god you’re too much sometimes! No more talk of Leo! The rest of the drinks are on him and we’ll leave it at that,” she laughed.

That was usually how it went. Leonardo picked up their girl’s night tab and paid for their taxis or Ubers.

“Okay. We’re just gonna get our drinks and we’ll be right back.” Marla swept Y/n off to the bar so they could order their usual drinks. For Y/n it was a nice stiff lemon drop martini.

Marla ordered a whisky sour, with extra orange slices and then rambled on about Ryan, her on-again, off-again boyfriend. They were on again at that moment but she was wearing thin, once again.

“Why do you do it to yourself, Marla? If you want to be done then just be done. You’ve tried and it hasn’t worked. I feel like you could do better anyway. Ryan’s nice but I think you two have run your course.”

“Ughh… I know, Y/n. God do I know. Easier said than done. There’s so much history, and friends in common. And we have a fucking dog together! I just… I don’t know.”

The bartender handed them their drinks and then Y/n gave the guy her credit card, “Please put this card in place of Cyndee Daniels tab. We’ll use this one instead.”

Josh was the bartender that evening. A cute college-aged young man with a bright smile who always remembered her name.

“Of course, Ms. Y/n. Will swap these out. As usual.” He winked.

She leaned over the bar as she took a quick sip of her martini while Josh went to retrieve Cyndee’s card. She looked down the bar at the faces of other patrons and suddenly was met with the clear green eyes of Leo’s son, Harry. Her stepson. She wasn’t sure if he’d seen her and it wasn’t as if Y/n had done anything wrong but she just hadn’t expected to see him there.

She leaned up again, peering around the woman sitting on the stool to her left and her eyes landed on the young man. Freshly shorn dark curls and a soft pink smile crooked up as he spoke animatedly to the guy sitting next to him. And just as she assumed he hadn’t seen her he turned and looked at her squarely, his lips moving as he spoke something to his friend then nodding in acknowledgment at Y/n before pulling himself off the stool he was on and making his way across the bar to her.

“Is that Harry?” Marla spoke as she leaned in.

“Yes, it is.”

Harry was a nice young man. He was polite, sometimes overly polite she thought, and he was charming. Y/n liked Harry. She didn’t know him all that well. He lived on campus at the university so she saw him rarely. But she did recognize that he’d cut his hair. He had long dark curls when she first met him. He looked like a bad boy, covered in tattoos with a permanent smirk on his face. But once she got to talking to him, she realized, he was a big sweetheart really. The long dark hair and tattoos were just a look. A style. Harry was a nice young man.

The truth was, all the girls joked about how attractive Leo and his son were. Both men were quite handsome. Y/n couldn’t deny that. Harry was tall like his father and built nicely. Long legs and a well-muscled chest. A great jawline and crystal green eyes that allured.

“Hi, Y/n. Marla,” Harry spoke as he looked from Y/n to Marla.

And that was another thing about him. He always remembered everyone’s name. He had met Marla maybe twice, yet here he was drinking beers at a bar and remembering the name of Y/n’s best friend whom he barely knew.

“Hi Harry,” Y/n smiled up at him, “Like the hair,” She reached up and whisked a finger into a short curl before bringing her hand back down into her own space.

Harry smiled broadly, a glorious dimple digging into his cheek as he raised an arm and ran his long fingers through his soft dark hair, “Oh! Yeah. Thank you. Got it cut a few weeks ago. Still getting used to it. Um, how are you doing?”

“Good. Girl’s Night, you know,” she shrugged and looked over at Marla who stood next to her, “We’re here every other Friday for some dancing and drinks,” when she turned her gaze back to Harry’s his soft eyes were intently watching her as she spoke. “Um, yeah. How are you? How’s school?”

Harry tipped himself forward to his toes and then lowered back down to his normal height, “Good. S’good. Already looking forward to Spring break,” he chuckled.

“Oh yeah! Me too. I’m not even in school anymore and I’m already making plans,” she chuckled.

Suddenly something dawned on Y/n. Her eyes went wide and then she squinted as she looked at her stepson, “Wait. You’re not 21. You’re too young to be here, Mister.”

Harry snorted a laugh and nodded, “I know. I know. But I’m turning 21 in two weeks. Figured I’d try out my fake ID once in my life. Before it’s too late,” he grinned.

“So you’ve never done this before?”

“Nope. First time. And of course, my stepmom is here when I do. Just my luck.”

Y/n laughed and her smile almost hurt her cheeks it was so wide.

A small jab to her side reminded her that Marla was still standing there, “Oh, sorry. Yeah. We should be heading back. We’re just over there if you want to stop by and say hi to the girls.” She pointed to the table where Cyndee and Gina were already watching the scene.

“Sure. Yeah. Of course. Um, it was really nice to see you, Marla,” Harry smiled gently at her and then looked back down to Y/n, “I’ll come by and say hi before I leave.”

The moment Y/n got to the table Cyndee pulled her arm, “Your stepson. Oof. He’s really attractive. Have you and him ever… you know?” She joked. Of course, Cyndee knew better.

“Oh stop it! Of course not! He’s a 20-year-old kid!” Y/n spoke in exasperation.

“You’re only 27, Y/n. You’re not much older. In fact, you’re closer to his age than you are to Leo’s,” Gina said.

Now Gina was usually the voice of reason so to have her on Cyndee’s side was ludicrous. Of course, she knew Cyndee was teasing but still.

Y/n took her seat and rolled her eyes as she took a healthy gulp of her sweet and tangy martini.

“And his haircut. God, he’s adorable like that. Damn,” Marla spoke next to her.

The music eventually began to grow louder and the martinis were going down far too easily. Especially after dancing and working up a sweat away from her seat. But one thing that didn’t change through the night was that her eyes kept finding Harry’s. It was like she couldn’t stop glancing over at him. But it didn’t help that every time she dared to peek he was looking at her already.

She couldn’t be sure that he was watching her dance but there was something about just the idea that he might be that had her swaying her hips a little more sensuously and using her hands to rub down her body like she was some kind of sexpot. But in truth, her dance moves were definitely subpar. But three martinis will tend to make one feel unnecessarily bold.

Y/n decided on just one more drink. A fourth martini to round out the night, plus she wanted to walk up to the bar near Harry and talk to him a little bit more. Just a friendly little tease about how he was only sitting and not dancing. Even his friend had gotten off the stool and danced with a young woman on the dance floor for a bit.

“You’re not really making the most of this special night, Harry,” she elbowed at his arm gently as she leaned over the bar to wave at Josh.

“What do you mean?” Harry’s eyes were a little red and he was quite obviously a little drunk.

She looked down at his wetted lips and back up to his pretty eyes, “You’re not even dancing. Just sitting here like a lump drinking beer after beer.”

“Ms. Y/n, another lemon drop?” Josh spoke as he put his hands on the bar top in front of her.

“Yes, please, Josh, and close it out too. I think all the girls are done for the night.” She laughed.

She turned back to look at Harry, “So no girls here you want to dance with? Even your buddy got out there a little bit. Where is he by the way?”

Harry turned around and looked over his shoulder for his friend and shrugged, “Maybe shagging in the bathroom. Haven’t seen him in a while now that I think of it. And no. No girls here I want to dance with.”

Y/n pouted and tilted her head as she reached up to touch his hair again, “I’ve seen a bunch of pretty girls around your age here, Harry. Some even checking you out. You should get out there and dance a little. Really fully experience Murphy’s Lounge,” she looked over her shoulder and then leaned in to speak quietly, “It’s your last chance with your fake ID,” she smiled as she tugged his curl the smallest bit.

Harry smirked, “Child abuse!” Craning his neck away from her fingers, he patted at his hair as if the tiny tug had hurt.

She rolled her eyes as Josh returned with the drink and her card, “See you in a couple weeks.” He smiled at her before returning to the other customers.

Harry’s features became serious again, “You know him?”

Y/n sipped her martini and nodded, “Yeah. We’re here often enough. So, yeah.” She shrugged keeping her eyes on her adorable stepson. Okay, maybe it was more like adorably handsome stepson, but still.

“Come. I’m gonna put this away,” she lifted her card upward as she motioned him to follow her, “And you and I are going out there to dance a little. We’ll find you someone cute to groove with a little.”

She expected Harry to protest a bit but he didn’t. He stepped in behind her and followed her to her table with his beer in hand. He stayed close to her as she bent down to slip her credit card into her purse. The security in the room always watched their table so no one took their things or tampered with their drinks (and the nice little tip Y/n, by way of Leo, didn’t hurt either).

“Leave your beer here. We’re gonna need our hands free!” she giggled as she pointed at the table.

“You’re okay to leave your drinks out like this? Thought that was a big no-no.”

Y/n looked in the direction of the man standing a few feet away, “He’s watching over the table. Now come on!”

The floor was packed with warm bodies moving and gyrating. The music was loud and the rhythmic base could be felt underfoot. She’d long lost sight of the girls as she began to sway and raise her arms upward.

Harry stayed close to his stepmom’s side and shuffled around a bit. His body was a bit stiff but he laughed when Y/n grabbed his hands and made him spin, “Loosen up a bit! Come on, Harry!”

Rolling his eyes he grinned and began to dramatically move about, trying to feel the beat and push down how awkward his movements felt.

Y/n kept her hands on his to encourage him to move with her and they both laughed as Harry began to relax into it a bit. His big smile only widened as the song was switched up to something that felt quite naughty and suggestive.

She released his hands because it felt like he was getting the hang of it. Not to mention she was beginning to enjoy the way his big hands fit around hers. And that couldn’t happen.

She turned around and continued swinging her hips and, moving with the rhythm as best she could. Long moments went by and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to get back into the swing of dancing and feeling the freedom and excitement of her night.

A hand pulled at her hip from behind and she opened her eyes and turned to see her stepson towering over her from behind. She hadn’t expected the sudden grip he had on her so she turned in confusion causing his palm to fall away. Harry looked over her shoulder and then dipped down to speak into her ear, “A man came over and was just about to try something with you. Wanted to discourage him a bit. Sorry.”

Y/n followed where he was looking and there was indeed a man there looking at her. And it wouldn’t have been too out of the ordinary for this to happen. She dealt with these things well usually. Sometimes she’d dance a little and flirt a little but that was it. It didn’t bother her. It was all in fun.

She chuckled and pulled at Harry’s shoulder to speak in his ear, “You don’t have to worry about me, Harry. I can take care of myself. I’m a big girl. But thank you.”

Harry licked his lips and turned his face toward her to speak, “I know you’re all grown up. Just didn’t want to see that with my own eyes is all.” His words were spoken close to her ear, his deep baritone vibrating from her neck and over her ear as she turned to look at him, only he didn’t move his face away and their gazes connected for a moment longer than felt innocent.

She swallowed and a small smile plucked upward on her lips, “Okay. Do you want to stay close then? Protect from the predators while I dance?” Her smile widened and she laughed but Harry’s smirk felt like something just the opposite of funny as he looked down over her face and to her neck and then over her lips.

“I’m not going anywhere,” his smirk remained as he shook his head and then in a surprise motion turned her around to face away and put both hands at her hips as they began dancing together.

She could feel his heat from behind her and his fingers held onto her hips possessively but she liked it. Especially when her hips moved to the beat and Harry’s hips moved behind her. He wasn’t pressing himself into her backside but she could feel him moving with her. He was keeping a polite distance. Though, everything that was happening was very inappropriate.

It was inappropriate because she liked it. Because this attractive young man behind her was looking at her in a way she noted was not innocent. Because she’d been obviously flirting with him at the bar. Because Harry was her stepson.

When the beat dropped low and the song slowed to something even more provocative and playful they both slowed and she felt Harry’s thumbs on the bit of skin exposed between the bottom hem of her blouse to just above her skirt’s waistline. His grasp on her skin was burning into her flesh, his fingers gently brushing and then squeezing at her.

“You’re not a bad dancer,” Harry remarked into her ear and she felt his chest press into her back.

And without thinking too deeply about it, or perhaps it was the martinis that left her so uninhibited, she dropped her head back and toward his mouth and felt his lips at her ear, “I’m a terrible dancer. But thank you anyway.” She laughed.

Harry chuckled into her ear, not backing away from how she’d leaned into him but instead pulling at her just enough that his fingers pinched her waist and she could feel him smile as he spoke against her ear, “Nothing about you is terrible, Y/n.”

His deep tone gave her a chill and goosebumps traveled down her neck and over her bare arms. Her good sense had been momentarily suspended as she smiled and dared to move her bottom into his hips.

When she heard his groan in her ear she closed her eyes and placed her hands over his, pressing his hands flat over her waist so she could feel his long fingers under hers, feel his warm palms digging into her skin.

“Better stop. I’m getting a little,” Harry suddenly backed off, his hands releasing her hips and she turned to look up at him as he ran a hand through his hair. He was flushed and his pupils were large, making his soft greens appear dark and heavy as he looked at her with an unmistakable glint of lust. She was sure she looked the same.

“Of course. Yeah. It was fun, though,” she smiled as she began to head back to the table. Harry followed.

They slid into the booth and took their drinks, letting the music of the bar fill in the gaps of their silence.

Y/n realized she was wet. She scolded herself inwardly. Her stepson was off-limits. Hell, to her most men were off limits because she was married (despite her open marriage). But especially Harry. She didn’t know if she should apologize or just let everything that had happened slip away without acknowledgment.

They were both drinking and so that had something to do with her behavior. With his. But mostly hers because she was the stepmom. She should have known better.

“Sorry we didn’t find you a cute girl to dance with,” she offered as she rounded her eyes and grinned, trying to make light of everything and ignore what had just happened between them.

Harry shook his head and looked down at his beer, then shifted his eyes to hers, “I think we did find me a cute girl to dance with,” he licked his lips and huffed a laugh shaking his head again as he lifted his beer.

“I’m done done done! Some guy bought me two shots. On top of the four cocktails I had. I’m fucked. I need to get out of here so I can crash into bed. You okay to leave with me?” Marla was suddenly plopping down at the table as she slurred her speech.

Y/n laughed, glad for the interruption. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Harry’s comment, “Yeah. We can get out of here. Where’s Gina and Cyndee?”

Marla pointed at the edge of the dance floor. Two men flanked them with drinks in hand.

“As you can see, they’re fine.”

Marla, Y/n, and Harry stopped by to say goodbye to Cyndee and Gina before leaving the loud bar. The night air was sobering as she used her Uber app to call for a taxi. Harry stayed with them, like the gentleman he was until their ride showed up.

Marla flung herself into the car as Y/n squeezed Harry’s arm, “Thanks, Harry. I’ll see you… I don’t know when, but this was fun! Yeah? Oh! It’ll probably be for your birthday, right? Party at our house. That’s right,” Y/n was mostly talking to herself. They were throwing him a party. Of course, it was going to be a big bash. Tons of college kids and family and drinking since he was turning 21.

Harry nodded, “Yeah. Weekend after next. Saturday. I think I’ll come over Friday night and stay the whole weekend.”

.           .           .

Harry had always liked Y/n. She was sweet to him from the start. Right off he could tell she wasn’t like Leonardo’s other girlfriends. He’d gone through a lot of them and when he decided he liked Y/n enough to keep around, Harry was genuinely happy about it. His dad was kind of cold and overly structured at times but he always took care of his family and Harry wouldn’t mind having Y/n around. He was 19 when he met her.

Harry’s mom left Leo when he was just a boy. She remarried years later and Harry hadn’t seen her so happy ever. He chalked it up to his dad’s standoffish behavior. He barely showed Harry, love, even. But It was okay for Harry that way. His mom was warm and raised him well. She showed him more love than he’d ever need in a lifetime. She made up where his dad lacked.

So for that, Harry did feel a bit sad, for Y/n, who had such a bright smile and contagious laugh, to marry such a cold creature as his father. The kind that his mother left. His friends joked that Y/n was a gold-digger and they urged him to try and mess around with her. See how far he could take it. But that was out of the question. Not because his stepmom wasn’t smoking hot, but because she was his stepmom. There was just so much wrong with that.

It did irk him, though, that he found her so pretty. But it wasn’t just that. She was smart too. She was easy to talk to and she could keep up with Harry’s little goofy jokes and she never took herself too seriously. Despite having her lips painted red and wearing high-fashion couture courtesy of Leonardo Styles, she was fun and kind.

Harry also benefited from his dad’s money, though. Just because he opted to live with his mother until college didn’t mean he didn’t have everything he wanted. A nice car, nice clothes, vacations with friends, concerts, sporting events, the newest cellphone. Leo didn’t bat an eye if Harry wanted something. And eventually even gave him a credit card to use for anything he wanted.

Yeah, Leo Styles was fucking wealthy. Dirty wealthy. The kind that people hate to see because it’s so excessive and unnecessary that it’s ugly.

But what could Harry do? His dad was a little cold and filthy rich. He didn’t control how his dad dealt with his money, though plenty of people also lumped Harry in with all that. Assumed he was some spoiled rotten brat who’d grow up like his father.

And that was just the thing, though. His dad wasn’t mean or bad per se. He was just rich because of the Styles’ family fortune. And he rarely showed any emotion. His dad did do nice things for the community and donated to good causes, threw fundraisers, and funded schools for children with special needs and gymnasiums for the local children who didn’t have a place to go and play freely.

And he wanted a wife that was smart and pretty. Someone with a brain who could handle a good conversation with grace. Harry understood the arrangement well. There was no love involved but it was a marriage of convenience for both of them. No harm, no foul. Harry didn’t mind it. Others seemed to have heavier opinions about it, though.

“Damn, Harry. You gotta do something about that. She keeps looking over here at you. While she looks like that? Let’s get your v-card taken care of once and for all.”

“Stop it, Jay. She’s my stepmom.”

“So? You told me yourself she’s just married to your dad for the money-“

“No, that’s not what I said. And it doesn’t matter what kind of thing she and my dad have going on. It’s not gonna happen.”

“God look at her. She’s fucking fine, Harry. She wants you too. I can tell. Look you don’t have to take my advice but this one,” he said as he gestured toward Y/n, “She’s a tiger in bed. I guarantee. Look at her move. Bet she could show you a thing or two.”

Harry shoved Jay and shook his head as he looked away before he was caught staring at his stepmom again.

She was hot. Her skirt was short and her little top kept riding up so he could get the tiniest peek of her waistline each time she raised her arms. Harry didn’t want to let his mind wander to those kinds of places. He’d already recognized how gorgeous she was. Liked her personality and how funny she was. If she were younger and not his stepmom, maybe. Maybe.

“Rebecca’s over there. I’m gonna go dance with her a bit. Sheila is too. You should come out and dance! Meet someone! Get laid!”

Harry sighed and sipped his beer as he leaned away from Jay’s arm, “No thanks.”

He did want to get laid of course. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have found a willing participant. It just hadn’t ever happened. He’d messed around a bit but in all honesty, Harry had a hard time wrapping his mind around a quick fling or something that was only sex. He liked connection and love. Wanted that whole thing with someone before getting to that point in the relationship. He knew it was silly to take it so seriously. And it wasn’t like keeping his virginity was his goal. It was just that he wanted it to be with someone special. Yeah, he was a bit of a sap like that.

But no one would know it really. That Harry was a big sap. A virgin at almost 21. Only his closest friends knew and they were sworn to secrecy. People assumed Harry had had lots of sex. That he was fucking people left and right. Because Harry was a flirt. He was super smooth and confident and charming. The kind of man people would imagine just had tons of sex. Plus he was incredibly attractive.

When Y/n was suddenly stood next to him at the bar, sweat at her hairline and soft lips with a cute smile as she spoke to him closely about how he was just sitting at the stool, not making the most of his first time in a bar with a fake ID, he felt his stomach twist. Maybe it was her scent, or the alcohol coursing through his veins, or the way she kept looking at him while she was dancing. Whatever it was, he knew he’d just moved into dangerous territory in his mind.

But she pulled at his hair and licked her lips and stood close so she could speak in his ear and he was easily convinced to finally get up and go dance with her.

Dancing wasn’t really a big deal to him. He wasn’t shy to dance. He honestly didn’t care all that much what people thought of him. He just didn’t want to get out there and dance while she was dancing like that. While she was looking at him in that way. Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Something had slipped out of its normal position for Harry that night. He was thinking of his stepmom in very inappropriate ways and he was powerless to stop the indecent thoughts he had about her body and her lips and her voice. It was so wrong.

When he turned her around and put his hands on her hips he allowed his fingers to wander over her skin to the very spot he’d been watching each time she lifted her arms. But this time he pushed the material up to give the pads of his fingers access. And she didn’t stop him.

Her hair smelled good and when he spoke against her ear she got goosebumps. Fucking goosebumps from his voice in her ear.

But then the unthinkable happened and she pressed herself into his front. And luckily she was just off to the left a bit because had she been to the right another inch or so she’d have felt him. He was thick under his dark jeans and it was because of his stepmom.

Her skin and her lips and her hair and the way she smelled and reacted to him. But he had to stop. He backed away knowing that it was the smart move. Hating that it was the smart move.

He came down the shower drain imagining Y/n on her knees with his cock down her throat, gagging and urging him to go in deeper that night after the bar. He closed his eyes and yanked himself and he orgasmed so embarrassingly fast to the image of her. His stepmom. That was the first time he’d masturbated to Y/n’s image. And it felt dirty. It felt forbidden and disgusting.

But then he did it again the following evening in his bed. He was thankful for having his own room in the frat house. Stroking his cock as his thighs quivered and his head was thrown back into the pillow under him, imagining Y/n riding his cock and showing him what she liked had him gasping as he came all over himself.

He tried to move on and get things back to normal in his brain about her. The way they were before that night at the bar. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Part of that was because of how she responded to him, flirted with him. The way she was looking at him and how she danced with him. He knew he didn’t imagine it. She was into it. And now that he knew that… well, the result left Harry tugging one out to his stepmom every night thereafter.

.           .           .

The party was going to be big. Leonardo told Harry to invite everyone he wanted. And of course, he and Y/n invited their friends too.

There was a DJ, a catering staff with bartenders and lots of presents.

Y/n was helping with the setup. Friday was busy for her, the day before the party. She’d almost forgotten about Harry mentioning he’d be coming on Friday to stay the whole weekend. Almost.

In fact, she hadn’t forgotten at all. She tried pushing that memory down but it was still there, underneath everything. Her nerves were wild as she helped direct some of the landscapers and people bringing gifts in from the guests. Tables and chairs, and a dance floor laid near the area where the DJ would be set up. Speakers were placed all over the estate so music could be heard no matter where anyone was.

She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come that evening as he said.

But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.

Looking down at the placement of the dance floor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.

She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.

In the early afternoon, the landscapers had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.

But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully, before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.

The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.

She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.

Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”

She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.

“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.

Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.

Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”

Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted creep. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.

She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.

Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!

Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…

Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.

Knocking at his cracked-open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.

Porn.

He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.

Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed

Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…

She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“

But he stopped short, a sharp inhaled breath into his lungs cutting off his words. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.

“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“

Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”

Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.

He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”

“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”

Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.

“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, causing him to look back down at her, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“

“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”

She let go of his arm and she felt like she could faint. She grasped onto the door jamb and wobbled as she looked down at her feet to steady herself and then back up at Harry.

“Are you okay? Here, let’s sit.” Harry took her arm from the door jamb and slowly guided her to her sit down on his bed where he promptly shut his laptop and moved the forsaken thing away from them, hidden from view.

“I’m okay,” she put her hands up and blinked her eyes as she turned to look at Harry next to her on the bed. “I didn’t expect that is all. That it had anything to do with- I just…”

“But that night at the club. That was… well… haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I know that’s inappropriate.”

Y/n bit her bottom lip and nodded before taking a deep breath, “Yeah. I guess. Me too.”

“You too? What?”

She turned to look at his verdant crystal eyes, “I can’t stop thinking about it. And it is inappropriate. And I take all the blame. It was my fault that it even got as far as it did. I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry shushed her and took her hand, “No. Don’t be sorry. This isn’t just on you. I’m an adult too, Y/n. This is on me just as much. So, I’m sorry. I feel like I probably pushed it that night. I was the one that touched you and made up that story about that guy.”

She recollected that night and the short conversation they had about the guy that was trying to dance with her when Harry had put his hand on her hip. The man was looking at her so she thought what he said was true. She hadn’t even questioned it, “You mean that man… that he wasn’t… you did…” she couldn’t finish her thought. It was. A lot. That revelation felt dense with just enough muscle to peel away some kind of layer of wool that had been placed securely over the situation in safety.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know what got into me that night. I really didn’t mean for any of this- It’s… my fault. I started it. I’m really sorry.”

She felt like they were somewhat on even ground now. He’d done that. She wouldn’t absolve herself of blame. No, not at all. She was still the heavy in this situation. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel exonerated by his admission. She was seven years older and his stepmom. She was ultimately to blame.

“God, Harry. Please. I’m…” she paused. His gaze on hers was hard to break. His soft mint eyes made him appear so pure and blameless. But then his deep raspberry lips, darkly pigmented against his face were seductive. Harry was like a siren. An enchanter. He was beautiful.

“No. You’re… amazing and I’ve just gone too far. It’s okay. This is silly,” he laughed and disconnected their eye contact as he looked downward, “This is-“ he looked back up at her and felt his heart thrum hard in his ribs, “silly.” His last word, just a whisper. A word he didn’t believe.

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on his, “And you surely have other options anyway. It’s just a phase. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to pick from. The charmer you are,” she chuckled lightly trying to lighten the mood and suggest it was temporary. That he could be with any young college girl he wanted. Probably had someone lined up for his birthday party even.

Harry’s brows cinched together and he shook his head, “No. I don’t. You don’t know this about me but… I’m actually…” he sighed and looked upward not wanting to see her expression when he told her, “virgin.”

That was not what she expected. Not at all. First of all, Harry Styles was beautiful. He was a sight! A paragon on legs with a gorgeously calming voice and the sweetest disposition anyone could ever dream of. He was perfection if there ever was such a thing. His beauty went before him but his grace and kindness were what made him so appealing. So utterly attractive. How was it that this astonishingly amazing man, absolutely as nice as anyone could ever be, was a virgin? Not to mention he had his dad’s money at the helm. There was nothing about Harry that wouldn’t get him laid in an instant.

“Virgin? Seriously?” She stuttered, “Umm… but not that there’s anything wrong with that…” She almost didn’t believe him as she asked. They’d never discussed this of course, but in her mind, it was quite impossible that he had never had sex.

“It’s true. Yeah. S’embarrassing but I really want it with… not just anyone. I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t done anything… but I’m not like I’m sleeping with whomever I can.”

Y/n nodded. She got it. As a female that was a conundrum she had as well.

Well, it was slightly different but the basics of why she didn’t just go and sleep with anyone was the same when she was his age. It was because she felt deeply about things. Wanted it to mean something. It didn’t always after she learned that others didn’t feel the same way she did. She learned that getting hurt was sometimes part of relationships. Part of sex. As sad as that was.

“Oh.” She smiled at him and spoke softly, “That’s how I used to feel too. Thought it should be special. But then when I thought it was going to be, the guy didn’t care so it turned out it was only special for me. I realized it didn’t really matter what I wanted. I can’t control what everyone around me wants.”

Harry felt his heart pinch at her words. That wasn’t fair. And that was exactly what had him so worried. That he would give it his all only to have the other person feel as if it was nothing important. Just a moment in time.

But it was a big moment in time. It should mean something. Both people should feel its presence and its significance.

They remained silent for a moment as Harry threaded his fingers in between Y/n’s and licked his lips, “Are we alone?”

She turned her head to look at the man. The whole scenario was unbelievable to her. They’d both admitted attraction and that they’d overstepped boundaries. They also both felt bad about it all. But what did that mean? Did that mean she should just stand up and tell him not to worry about it and not to bring it up ever again? Tell him she won’t say anything if he doesn’t say anything? Give him a hug and a pat on the back?

Yes. That is exactly what she should do.

Unhooking her fingers from his she leaned in and hugged him before standing up from his bed, “Your dad will be home late. So, it’s probably better if I go downstairs and do something to keep me busy. This,” she moved her fingers to point at him and then herself, “we can just chalk up to some bad timing and hormones or whatever. Don’t worry about it. I think it’ll be better for us to just pretend it never happened.”

Harry stood up abruptly, his height overtaking Y/n’s significantly with how close he stood, “Just like that? Just forget that we both said those things?”

She took a step back as she kept her eyes on his, “Yeah. Don’t you think that’s for the best? I mean, Harry… I’m your stepmom.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and frowned as he put his hands on his hips and moved away from the bed. He walked toward his door and turned back, “You can forget it and pretend it never happened if you like. I won’t be, though. I’m not going to say anything but I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen either.”

Her heart dropped. She hoped he’d just brush it all off and try to move on. That was the best way to go about all of this. It’s not like they could have some kind of affair anyway. He was too young and his dad was her husband. It would be crazy to do such a thing.

“I mean… what did you want here? I feel like moving on is the best thing for both of us.”

Harry breathed out an incredulous laugh and shook his head, “I don’t know. Honestly. Thought…” he looked down at his shoes, “No one needed to know. No one would know.”

“No one needed to know what?”

Harry lifted his gaze up to Y/n’s, “If we… kissed or… anything. It would be easy. Dad’s never home. And you’re so-“ he blinked his eyes and she watched as he honed in on the spot where her breasts were under her t-shirt. She hadn’t put a bra on before slipping the shirt on in her haste to wish him a happy birthday, “Kind and patient. Feel like that would be really nice.”

She felt like her jaw was on the floor. Felt like that would be really nice. She couldn’t argue that. It would be really nice. A man with a warm heart in her bed. Someone she could show what she wanted without worry that he’d be offended. A man that looked like Harry. Young and with all that stamina. She imagined that he probably would want it a lot, especially now that she knew he was a virgin. That he’s been so neglected and that the moment he got a taste of it he’d never want to stop…

She shook her head before she allowed her mind to go too far into that hole, “We can’t, Harry. You understand that right,” she bit her lip. She wanted to grab him by his hips and smear her mouth over his as she pushed him into his bed and had them reenact the stepmom and stepson share a bed porno he had up on his laptop.

Harry nodded, his face set in an unreadable expression, “Of course, Y/n. I wouldn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want. I’m sorry.”

She hated that he kept saying sorry. That he felt bad for any of this when it was on her as well, “Please, Harry. Stop saying you’re sorry. You’re not to blame. I just think we should keep level heads here. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

His breathing deepened so much that Y/n could see the way his chest rose and fell under his shirt. She noted his gaze taking her in, not just her eyes, but her lips and her neck, her hips where the shirt stopped and her leggings showed under, “Oh… Y/n…” he shook his head, “I’ve definitely not been innocent. If my porn history isn’t enough to apologize for then my dirty thoughts surely are. You’d certainly agree that I should be apologizing if you knew the sorts of things I fantasize about with you.”

Y/n looked down. She couldn’t take his saturating gaze and these admissions any longer, “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. It’s okay that it’s private and as long as it’s not acted on… you shouldn’t feel bad.”

“Of course.” Harry gestured toward the hallway as he looked at Y/n. There was nothing more to be said on the matter. Harry knew she was right.

She nodded as she exited his room and heard him close the door behind her as she stepped out into the hallway. All she wanted to do was to tell him happy birthday. But instead, she left confused and frustrated and far more guilty than she had been before. She had no idea how to navigate this. But she only knew that no one could know their secret.

.           .           .

The caterers arrived before everyone else to get things set up. Small little aluminum warmers lit to keep the food warm. The bar was set up with a washing station and glassware (none of that plastic stuff Leo had said). The sound equipment was tested. Everything was going to be amazing, Y/n thought. For Harry’s 21st birthday party, this was surely going to be a great time.

She hadn’t seen Harry after their encounter in his bedroom the day before. He’d been quiet the rest of the evening. He didn’t even come down to eat.

Leo arrived home just after midnight and today he was working a little, tying up loose ends for something Y/n didn’t bother to pay attention to. Her mind was elsewhere anyway. Her thoughts kept wandering to Harry. Was he okay? Certainly, he wouldn’t be too upset. They hadn’t even really done anything. And they shouldn’t! Plus he was so young and he would have plenty of time to find someone special. She couldn’t be that for him. Certainly not.

Just before she’d had the chance to run upstairs to her room to get her party outfit in order she caught a glimpse of Harry as he was leaving the kitchen. His dark curls were messy. He looked like he had just gotten up.

She laughed to herself. A typical 21-year-old. Sleeping half the day away so he could stay up late and party with his friends tonight. She felt like that was a good sign.

Her dress was modest and what she deemed appropriate. She had originally selected something different for the party, but after her talk with Harry the night before, she went a more conservative route. Perhaps he’d ignore her when he saw the other pretty girls his age that he knew at the party. She hoped there would be someone else that caught his eye. Someone that could make him forget all about whatever it was that happened between them.

She pulled her hair into a low bun, smoothing the bits that always tended to poke out from a sleek do. It was easy to keep her hair this way. And it was more mature too she felt. Rather than keeping her hair down in styled waves or curls, the low bun was a nod to her stage in life. The married woman with a stepson stage.

She decided to not wear perfume or lipstick either. She wanted to do anything she could to fade into the background for the party. She’d be running around anyway, at the beck and call of the people working the party should they need anything. She knew it was probably unnecessary as the people they’d hired were all professionals and some of the best in the industry. But she felt she would need to keep herself busy.

The first to arrive were Leo’s parents (Harry’s grandparents) and then Harry’s mom, Anne. Anne had been around a lot for the last few days helping Y/n get everything sorted. Y/n was actually quite fond of Anne. Harry’s mother was a saint. She loved that her relationship with Leo’s ex was so good.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Anne smiled as she backed away from the hug Y/n had given her.

“Oh! I think he might still be getting ready. I believe he slept in late. Saw the back of his head about an hour ago and he appeared to be half asleep,” Y/n laughed.

As more of the guests arrived, Y/n noted the young women and men Harry had invited. Plenty of attractive and exciting college kids.

The music was started and drinks were being served but she still had not seen Harry. Nor Leo for that matter (though she wasn’t surprised to have not seen Leo – probably absorbed in his work).

Going inside and tiptoeing her way up toward Harry’s bedroom to urge him to come out and join his own party she found that his door was closed. She applied two knocks to the wood as she put her ear in close to hear anything.

When it was silent and the door didn’t open, she knocked again. Harder, “Harry? You in there? Party’s getting started without you!”

Suddenly the door was pulled open and before her was her stepson looking like he was ready to kill. Not kill in the way that was violent, but kill with his looks. Kill with the way he’d dressed and left half his buttons undone at the top, a sheer milky white shirt with cream embroidered flowers draping away from his chest and allowing peeks of his tattoos. Black, well-fitted jeans and black Chelsea boots. His signature cross necklace hung between his pecs.

“Wanted to be fashionably late. You know… birthday boy and all,” he raised his brows unamused at Y/n and she felt the condescension drip from his words, “After you… step mummy,” he gestured for her to lead the way.

She was stunned by his tiny attitude. It wasn’t much. He hadn’t been particularly rude but his tone and his cheek were new. He was normally very polite with her. Very sweet and all smiles.

She nodded as she began to head down the stairs, Harry behind her. The moment they walked out to the garden Harry headed in a direction away from her. Without a word. But that was good. He should go and have fun with his friends.

Y/n had invited Marla to the party, which she was thankful for. Marla kept her mind off the tall young man of the hour.

“I can never get over how fantastic this place is. And look at all this,” Marla waved her wine glass above her head as she gestured toward the decorations, “This looks magical! When I fall in love and get married, can I have my wedding here?”

“You have to find the right man first. Ryan’s not it.” They laughed together.

Y/n wasn’t nearly as busy as she thought she’d be. As she hoped she’d be. She drank a few glasses of wine and checked on the guests but Anne had most things under control as did the staff that were taking care of everything.

She kept wishing she had more to do because her eyes kept searching for Harry. She spotted him over and over again. He was drinking whisky, with his friends laughing, and of course, there was one girl he was talking to.

She scolded herself at the touch of jealousy she felt. The girl was Harry’s age. Lovely young thing. But when she saw just the two of them talking as Harry had a hand flat on the bench behind the girl she hated how close they were standing. How flirty he looked. She especially didn’t like that the girl would reach out for his buttons and pluck at them every so often.

But why should she be jealous? He was a 21-year-old guy and he was her stepson. It was quite silly to feel anything other than happiness for him.

The cherry on top was after Leo gave his speech and everyone toasted and then the DJ began to play house music. The dance floor was packed and Y/n watched on as Harry and the young girl danced together, much in the same way he’d danced with her two weeks prior. His lanky body moved behind hers, his hand at her hip, his face close to her ear as he said god-knows-what to her.

She wanted to go out and dance too. There was no reason for her to not dance. Just because Harry was out there, enjoying his time, she didn’t need to wallow at the edge and watch the fun.

“Let’s dance!” Y/n pulled Marla with her to the dance floor.

It was just like their normal Friday night outings and since the night before they didn’t get to go out because Y/n had been busy with the party setup, tonight would be girl’s night for her and Marla.

The two laughed and moved their bodies to the beat, holding their wine glasses as level as they could so it didn’t slosh out.

She was finally having fun. Finally felt the anxiety and the guilt melt away as she danced and drank a little more wine. She had been silly to be jealous or upset. There was no reason for any of that.

But then she saw his eyes on hers. He hadn’t been looking at her all night. She figured that was for the best. But now he was watching her as he danced with the girl in the white mini-dress. His gaze was cold. His face set in a glowering smirk as he spoke something to the girl. She watched as the young woman leaned her head back to look up at Harry and his lips nipped at the space just below her ear.

She felt she could vomit. It was too much. She thought she was okay but she didn’t want to see that. Didn’t want to watch as Harry kissed anyone else and looked at her with such disdain. Was he mad at her?

She excused herself to Marla and rushed into the big house, moving into the kitchen to set her glass down. There were people in the house. Chatting, laughing, and some even dancing inside.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she leaned over the island and tried to calm her brain. What was she doing? What was wrong with her?

Warm hands covered the tops of her shoulders and the deep rasp of her stepson was in her ear before she could even open her eyes, “I need to talk to you.”

She jumped in surprise and turned around quickly as Harry ticked his head toward the stairs and he began heading toward them. She followed behind, moving up the steps with him and she assumed he would want to talk in the hallway or his room but he continued walking past his door and to the other side of the house toward her bedroom.

Without even a pause he opened her door and entered her room as if he owned it. As if it were his room.

She followed in behind him, her face set in confusion. She couldn’t know what he was going to say or what he wanted to talk about.

“Was offered a blowjob,” he blurted out as he paced. “From Leslie. She’s cute and I’m… anyway… I wanted to tell you,” he stopped and looked at Y/n, moving toward her, “in case you wanted to… maybe you’d changed your mind or-“ he ran a hand through his hair.

“What?” She was stunned, “You… why are you telling me?”

“Because I want… you, Y/n.” He said with finality.

Harry was stood close with his pink lips parted as he looked down at Y/n. He was serious. He was dead serious and she was surprised. The young girl was pretty and she wanted to give him a blowjob… “Me? What about… Leslie? She’s so cute and-“

“Not as cute as you. Ever since that night, I can’t stop thinking about you.” He cocked his head and smirked, “And I like this look,” Harry moved his hand to the material of her dress gently before letting his hand drop down to his side, “Perfect length so no one gets any ideas about you. A modest silhouette. Your hair falling out of this bun you tried to hold it in,” his hand moved upward again to push the hair off her shoulder that had indeed come undone from the bun.

“You must have had too much to drink. I’m not what you’re looking for-“

“You are. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for. And I’m not drunk, Y/n. Not even close.”

Her breaths deepened as Harry’s hand stayed at her neck where he’d pushed her hair. His thumb rubbed over her pulse point slowly. And he was suffocating, crippling her resolve. Making her question her sanity. She couldn’t allow this. Could she?

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t. We… we can’t.”

Harry licked his lips, “We can actually because no one would know. Want it to be you. Want you to show me. I trust you.” He didn’t lose his composure as his palm moved upward and his thumb brushed the outer corner of her mouth.

She closed her eyes and allowed her mouth to part the slightest. She didn’t know what she was doing. Letting him stand so close. Letting him speak to her about this. Letting him touch her lips. Letting his words sink into her core.

“Harry…” she breathed out his name as she felt the pad of his thumb press over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained closed. This wasn’t happening. If she kept her eyes closed she wasn’t here and this wasn’t happening. It was just a fantasy.

The trouble was though, that it was happening. And even with her eyes closed she could feel him and how he was standing so close she could smell the whisky on his breath and feel his body heat next to hers. Feel his thumb push past her lips the slightest as her tongue poked out to taste the tiniest bit. Felt his hand grip her face and his smooth mouth on hers and his hand on her waist and his chest pressed to hers.

She forced her fingers into his hair and moaned into his mouth but then- in a sudden moment of clarity, she pushed at his chest and shook her head, “This is wrong. We can’t, Harry. You get that, right?”

Harry backed away and looked down at his feet, “I do. You don’t want me.”

She nearly blurted out to him that that was incorrect. That she did want him. That she’d fantasized about him far too often but it was unhealthy and it could only lead to disaster.

Instead, she stayed quiet. He needed to drop this. She needed to stop this. It had gone too far.

When he left her room she sat down on her bed. Now she’d gone and kissed him. Tasted his lips and the way he kissed her felt so real and so passionate. She’d missed that bit of passion. That sort of enthusiasm. It wasn’t something Leo gave her at all. She didn’t even know it was something she was missing. But Harry had woken something up in her. Ever since that night. And now the kiss had felt like she was beyond getting back to ignoring that need she’d buttoned up and pushed down. She wanted more. But that couldn’t happen.

She was surprised by Harry’s gall too. He was quite pushy, which she hadn’t expected of him. Harry, who was so gentle and thoughtful and sweet was really adamant about pursuing her.

Her tummy was still warm and filled with butterflies. He’d kissed her. And she wanted to take it further but she couldn’t. That was out of the question.

.           .           .

When most of the guests had gone and the house grew quiet Y/n sat outside under the twinkle lights. She’d turn them off before going in and calling it a night but she wanted a few moments of peace with the last bit of the bottle of wine she’d worked her way through after Harry had gone and scrambled her good sense.

Good sense. What a laugh. As if she had any good sense after that night at the bar. It should have never gotten as far as it had.

Y/n was also sitting outside in hopes of making sure Leslie left before she went back in. Or at least gave Harry enough time to get his blowjob or whatever it was that was going on in his bedroom.

Because Y/n was well aware that Harry had her in there. He made a show of it in fact.

When she’d gotten back outside after calming herself from the kiss, Harry had Leslie against the side of the house with his tongue down her throat. And as much as she tried to ignore that and pretend she wasn’t bothered by it, she was bothered. It hurt her feelings but she shouldn’t feel hurt. Harry should be doing things with girls his age and losing his virginity to anyone that wasn’t his stepmom.

But she kept looking over at them and when she caught Harry gazing back at her as he kissed Leslie she could almost feel her hair singe in anger. He was doing it on purpose. To make Y/n jealous.

And before he brought her into the house he casually introduced Leslie to her and then leaned in to whisper to Y/n with his whisky breath, “Last chance.”

So, not only was she a little hurt she was a little pissed. Because he was being downright bratty with it.

Half of her hoped that Leslie would take his virginity and he’d get it out of his system and that would be that.

The other part of her, the depraved, nonsensical evil bit that she kept pushed deep deep down away from anyone, wanted to make him pay for being a little jerk to her. She imagined spanking him even, which was ridiculous because he was so much larger than she was. As if he’d somehow fit over her lap and bare his ass to her for a spanking. She laughed at her thoughts but they didn’t end there.

The more wine that wound its way into her bloodstream the filthier her fantasies got. He’d grow hard after she punished him and then she’d show him what a real blowjob was like. Make him forget all about Leslie. She’d let him feel her throat on him but wouldn’t allow him to come. Instead, then she’d pull him down by his hair between her legs and guide him over her, giving him specific instructions for cunnilingus. And he’d keep licking at her and begging for more of her even after she’d come. He wouldn’t want to stop tasting her but then she’d tell him to stop – that only good boys deserve more.

Of course, the fantasy ends with him begging her to take his virginity and then making him eat his come from her pussy since he came too fast, like the virgin he is.

Depraved. But god was she turned on just thinking about it. She bet he’d like all that too.

Plucking her bottle of wine up she flicked the lights off and went into the house. No sense in staying outside and hoping Harry was quiet enough when she went inside. Plus she was quite tipsy and just needed to be put to bed.

Putting the bottle down on the counter she heard Leo sitting in the living room on a call.

It was nearly 2 am so she was surprised he was chatting with anyone but she could tell it was something for work. Plans for a business trip.

Instead of waiting and talking to him, she made her way up to her bedroom. She slowly passed Harry’s room and noticed that there was a light on but no noises to be heard, thankfully.

And she wasn’t jealous. Of course, she wasn’t. What was there to be jealous of?

After a warm shower and slathering her body in lotion, she opened her ensuite bathroom door and stopped dead in her tracks.

“What are you doing in here?”

Harry was lying on her bed, sprawled out on top of her comforter wearing the clothes he wore at his party minus his boots.

Harry lifted his head and snorted a laugh, “Wanted to say g’night to my stepmom. But then I laid on your bed,” Y/n could hear the slur in his speech and saw the way his eyes floated in his sockets as he looked at her, “and it’s so comfortable.” He pressed his palms down and moaned at the feel before plopping his head back onto her stack of feather pillows.

She stood over him and placed her hands at her hips. She was thankful she’d put on her robe before stepping out of her room. Half the time she opted to walk around her bedroom naked.

“Well, goodnight, then Harry. It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

Harry squeezed his eyes closed and the grin on his mouth widened as he spoke, “Mmm… but this feels so good. S’cozy right here.”

Y/n sat at the end of the bed and sighed. He was clearly drunk. Earlier he hadn’t been when she kissed him. Now, he was very clearly inebriated.

“Your bed is cozy too, though. You should go back to your room. Get some rest.”

Harry propped himself up by his elbows and planted his eyes on hers, “You’ve been in my bed? When?”

Shaking her head and laughing at the absurdity of this whole scenario she spoke, “I know your bed is comfortable because I helped Leo pick out your new mattress. It’s the same one as this.” She patted the bed under her.

Harry nodded slowly and she noticed his gaze at her cleavage so she tightened her robe just as there was a knock at her door.

A gasp fell from her lips and she shoved Harry off the bed, whispering, “Under the bed! It’s your father!”

Harry huffed a laugh and put his hands up in surrender, “Yes, ma’am.”

She hushed him as he scooted himself under her bed and Y/n ran to her bathroom door, “Yes!”

The door opened and Leo stepped in, a suitcase left in the doorway, “I just wanted to let you know I’ve got a sudden meeting tomorrow late morning so I’ve got to take the 5:00 am out to Savannah.”

Putting the towel up to her hair to act as if she’d just gotten out of the shower (she sort of had) she walked across the room to him, “Really? When will you be back?”

“Day after tomorrow. It’s a morning meeting, then golf, then dinner. Then the next morning I have a flight that gets me back in LA at noon.”

She smiled and slid her arms over his shoulders to bring him in for a quick hug and he caught her off guard by kissing her cheek and squeezing her back before pulling away, “Car’s outside waiting,” he ticked his head toward the door, “Tell Harry when he emerges tomorrow for me, will ya?”

When she shut her door and turned toward her bed she let out a breath of relief. She was glad Harry stayed quiet. But then she realized as she lifted her bed skirt that he’d fallen asleep down there.

Rolling her eyes she contemplated what to do. Leave him there? Wake him and help him back to his room? She really didn’t want to deal with getting him into his bedroom. Nor did she want to deal with a drunk Harry by waking him up. But ultimately her guilt wouldn’t let her leave him there on the floor. He deserved to sleep in a bed.

“Harry… come on… wake up. Leo’s gone,” she pushed at his arm gently, “Harry…” she said tunefully, elongating the yyyyyy at the end of his name.

Pulling at his arm she got him part of the way out from under her bed and lifted his arm up, “Come on… wake up,” she lightly patted his face and that seemed to do it.

Harry’s eyes opened up and landed on hers. Sparkling and green and soft. And drunk.

“Let’s get you up. Come on. Time for bed.” She helped him sit up and tucked herself under his arm and began to stand to help him upward. But he was dead weight.

“Can I please stay with you? Please, Y/n? Your bed is so soft.”

She looked at him as he spoke and she realized he was not going to make it to his room. He’d have to sleep on her bed.

But that was fine. She’d just put him in her bed and then go sleep in any of the other guest rooms. It was better than letting him sleep on the floor or attempting to walk him to his bedroom.

“You can sleep in my bed. That’s fine. Can you lift up with me?”

Harry’s smile took over his features and his pink lips looked wet and soft. He was super cute when he was drunk.

“For real?” Harry raised an arm and steadied himself with the edge of the bed, the other side assisted by Y/n as he was pushed upward to his feet.

“There we go. Okay…” Y/n nudged him to sit and Harry’s full weight fell onto the bed and he laughed.

He immediately went to grab at his pant button and Y/n paused and put her hand on his shoulder, “Uh, just lie down. I’ll go and get you some water. Be right back.”

She was doing her best. Truly. She was quite tipsy herself and her bed had been calling before Harry showed up in her room. And now here she was traipsing across the massive home to get her stepson a glass of water. She figured he’d appreciate that when he woke up in the morning. And she had hoped that by the time she returned to her room, he’d be asleep and she could sneak out and go to the nearest guest bedroom and crash there. She was tired.

But when she returned to her room, Harry had successfully pulled his pants and sheer button-up shirt off and was left in nothing but his grey boxer briefs. And he was not asleep.

Placing the water next to the side of the bed he was on, which was where she’d normally be sleeping she noted, Harry stretched his arms behind his head and smiled, “Hop in.”

She shook her head and laughed as she pulled her charger from the wall and grabbed her cell phone, “No, Harry. That’s not a good idea,” she turned off the lamp on the far side of the room and began to walk toward the door.

He sat up quickly, “Wait. You said… You’re not staying with me?”

Y/n turned to look at him, handsome and messy.

And her stepson she reminded herself.

“I’ll just be next door. Think it’s best we’re not sleeping in the same bed, Harry. Just lie down and-“

“No. Please,” Harry tried to pull himself out of the bed but his motions were lethargic and clumsy, “want you here. Just… stay with me. Please. I swear no funny business.”

She sighed and began to shake her head and repeat herself but when Harry started to place his long legs down onto the floor she rushed back to him so he wouldn’t hurt himself. That was her logic anyway. She didn’t want him to fall or crack his skull open.

Steadying him by his arms she pushed him back toward the bed, “Stay. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Harry hummed and reached up to put his fingers in her hair, “I’ll stay if you stay. If you go to the guest room I’ll just follow you like a puppy dog, Y/n.” His words were watery and his gestures were clumsy.

She closed her eyes and groaned. She was so tired. So tired. And she just wanted to lie down. And she certainly couldn’t have Harry attempting to follow her to another room and hurt himself by falling down the stairs or something.

“Fine. But you just go to sleep. I’ll stay here with you but you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep and behave.” She pointed at him.

Harry’s exaggerated grin returned as he laid his head back onto the pillow and watched her cross the room to turn off the last lamp.

Fuck, she cursed to herself under her breath. She’d forgotten to put on pajamas. She was naked under her robe.

But okay. No problem. She’d just leave her robe on and it would be fine.

Climbing into bed, on the odd side, she stretched her limbs as she laid flat and closed her eyes. She was just so tired.

“Thank you. For staying. I promise I’ll behave.”

.           .           .

Y/n’s alarm woke her up and she groaned and reached over to turn it off but instead, her palm found a bare, solid chest. She popped her eyes open and the events of the previous night had come rushing back. She let Harry sleep in her bed and she was reaching over toward where her phone normally was but she’d been on the opposite side of the bed.

Rolling over to press the alarm off she sighed as she snuggled back into her pillow. 6:45 am was too early to be up for a Sunday. She contemplated moving herself to a guest room since Harry was still asleep but her soft bed lulled her back into a deep sleep where her dreams were vivid and she found herself kissing Harry again. But this time, her dream took it further and she was on his lap and then they were in his bed. By any standards, it was a very good dream. A very good one.

So when she woke up for the second time that morning things were… different. Her head was not on her soft pillow and there was a hand on her bottom. She slowly came out of her easy dream state, still reeling from the kind of dream she’d just had of her stepson when she realized her cheek was smushed on Harry’s pec and it was Harry’s big palm on her bottom slowly, slowly, slowly moving down toward her thigh. He was awake.

Her dream-riddled brain mulled over what was happening. It was a slow rise but her awareness steadily stirred. Her robe had come undone and her thigh was over Harry’s. His chest was rising and falling gently and she realized her palm was over his heart, which she could feel thudding underneath. She had cuddled up to him like he was one of those body pillows.

It was nice. It felt soft and lazy and sweet to lie in her bed on a Sunday morning in the arms of a man. And the leftover remnants of her dream had her still feeling wound up.

Hesitantly, she moved her head to look upward and Harry’s hand halted when her gaze met his.

She could see him swallow and he spoke groggily, “Sorry. You were… I didn’t want to wake you.”

The way his sonorous voice reverberated from his chest against her skin and her shoulder made her meltier than she already was.

Her hand was still over his chest and she could feel his heart rate increase as he kept his eyes on hers, “It’s okay. Thank you for letting me sleep.” She was going to move. To get up and pull her robe securely around her body so he didn’t catch a glimpse of anything but she didn’t want to move. She wanted to bask in the heat of him for a little longer. To feel his fingers on her bare bottom for a few more moments. Perhaps to even feel him caressing her again. And maybe… just maybe…

She slid her palm up and scooted herself fully into his arms, her chest over his, and laid her head down against his shoulder, “Let’s just stay here a little longer. If that’s okay?”

Harry blinked his eyes and knew Y/n could feel the way his heart was lobbing around behind his ribs. His cock was already hard but she hadn’t figured that out yet and he didn’t want to scare her off because he did want to stay like that for longer. With her.

He pulled his arms around her, removing his hand from her bottom and bringing it up to wrap around her back, “That sounds perfect.” He was just glad she hadn’t moved too far up or her thigh would have come into contact with his erection and surely would have ruined the moment.

Y/n closed her eyes and indulged in the way his arms felt around her. Her bare hip was against his and it felt so salacious. So tender. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, with one of them uncovered and warm against his skin.

“Dad left for a meeting? On a Sunday?” Harry suddenly inquired. He had always been suspicious of his father’s frequent trips.

She nodded her head over his chest, “Yeah. Sometimes he has weekend meetings. It’s more like a golf outing than anything. Probably just some buddies getting together for some fun.”

“Hmm… You’re okay with him just heading out like that last minute?”

“Yeah. It’s normal. I’ve gotten used to it.”

He wasn’t sure that his father was a good husband to Y/n. He found it odd too that they had separate bedrooms. But he didn’t usually question it. However, this morning he was feeling soft toward her (well, soft emotionally… physically he was anything but soft) and wanted to protect her in some way.

Harry didn’t know how he was going to survive. His boner was only growing thicker and with the way she was wiggling over him, her thigh was nearly brushing against his –

Too late.

When she nudged at it, feeling him stiff against her thigh, she smiled to herself. She hadn’t looked down over his body but she half wondered if he was as turned on as she was. It was easier for her to hide what her dream had done to her and what being in his arms was causing to slip out from between her legs, but this pleased her.

“I’m sorry. That’s… I can’t help it.” Harry explained and Y/n lifted her head up and glanced down at where he was straining under his boxer briefs. It nearly startled her too. She hadn’t expected… that. And even though he was covered up with his underwear she understood that what he had going on there was… well she’d say he was a lucky guy and it was truly an outrage that there hadn’t been a lucky girl to try it out.

“Don’t apologize,” she looked back up at him and realized he’d been looking at her boob. The one not covered. And with the way she’d lifted herself upward to look down at him, her nipple was out for him to peek at.

She licked her lips and brought her hand down over his pec to lift herself further. Bot tits made their appearance and Harry groaned and looked away, “Sorry. Trying not to look.”

Gently putting her hand up to his jaw she turned his face to look at her, “Do you want to look?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he nodded, “Well, yeah. But I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“You’ve seen breasts before right?” Y/n laughed and slid her thigh against his thickened cock, this time on purpose.

Harry kept nodding, “Yes. Quite a few. But just not yours.” His eyes danced over her nipples and back up to her eyes, almost to make sure it was okay.

She loved his deep, raspy morning voice. Loved how gentle and intimate the moment felt.

“Did you see Leslie’s breasts last night?” Y/n teased with a smile as she lowered herself down, her naked nipples pressing into his warm skin.

Shaking his head no he laughed, “Nah. She passed out. If you thought I was drunk last night, should have seen her. Nothing happened. Wouldn’t have been able to even if we wanted.”

When Y/n felt Harry’s hand timidly return to her low back and then ghost over her ass she let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t remove her eyes from his. He was so pretty and he deserved to be put out of his misery she thought. A bad idea, yes. But to hell with it.

Sliding her thigh further over him she pushed herself to straddle him and sat up over him. Biting her lip and looking down at his chest and smoothing her hands over the smattering of hair he had and the dark tattoos… he was sexy.

Harry couldn’t stop his eyes from taking her in. Her robe was draped over her sides but was open so he could see her breasts and her tummy, her belly button and he glanced back up at her and parted his lips as he risked moving his hands over her bottom. With the way she was looking at him and touching him, he felt the risk would be worth it.

“Squeeze a little,” she whispered as she put her hands over Harry’s and directed him to take a handful of her bottom in each palm. Harry swallowed hard and panted.

“Oh my god,” his words were spoken in a quiet breath as he relished in the feeling.

When she rocked her hips forward and dragged her core over his fabric-covered cock Harry gasped and his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths.

“I had a dream about you,” she spoke as she moved her hands back up his chest and to his face as she leaned over him, putting herself directly over his erection and ground herself over him, “It was really naughty. And I’m still worked up over it. Just tell me if you want me to stop,” her pussy was wetting the fabric of Harry’s crotch and he groaned before lifting his face upward and pressing his lips to hers. He definitely did not want her to stop.

The haste of the kiss was hectic and chaotic. Harry pushed the robe off her shoulders and she flung the thick cotton down onto the floor before placing her fingers into the band of his underwear, “Let’s take a look.”

She sat back and pulled his underwear down so his cock sprung out. She continued lowering the material until his balls were free and she moaned, “It’s really pretty. Can I suck you off?”

Harry brought a hand up to his arm and pinched his skin, wincing when he felt the sting. He wasn’t sure he was really awake. Not only was Y/n completely naked on top of him, she was licking her lips and asking if she could suck him off.

“Fuck. Please yes.”

“Do you like to beg, Harry?” She grinned as she crawled herself backward to put her face above his lovely cock.

“For you, I will.”

“Mmm… such a good boy,” she looked up at him as she licked along the underside of his shaft and Harry choked out a moan. His thighs were already quivering. She figured he wouldn’t last long but that was fine for what she had in mind.

Her mouth was watering so wetting him properly wasn’t too hard as her tongue slid over his hard prick. She dotted kisses along the way and looked up at his eyes and then down to his pretty dick.

Using her hand, a palm she licked and wetted, she gently massaged his balls as she finally pulled his tip into her mouth. She lowered over him as much as possible on the first go before bringing herself off of him, “Want you to come down my throat. Okay? Want to taste you.”

Harry’s face was twisted up in ecstasy already and she hadn’t done that much, “I’m gonna come too fast.” He whined.

Shaking her head and licking over his tip she whispered against his throbbing cock, “Be a good boy and come down my throat, Harry. It’s okay if you come fast. Just feel my mouth and my tongue on you and enjoy it. Can you do that for me?”

“Ffuck…” Harry threw his head back into the pillow as she drew him back into her mouth and began sucking, “M’gonna be your good boy. Yes.”

Harry’s voice was shaky and his groans were progressively louder as she took him deeper. He clutched the blankets tight as his stepmom fondled his balls and sucked on his cock.

He’d been given blow jobs before. But already this one was far and away the best he’d ever had. Y/n was sensual and confident and she knew what she was doing. When her eyes found his every few moments that was his favorite. Watching as she looked at him dreamily with his cock in her mouth was a picture that would be seared into his mind for all eternity. Better than porn. Because it was real.

“Ahh! Shit! M’coming, please!” Harry shouted and moaned as his hands finally found their place in her hair out of instinct.

He’d pressed on her just enough that her nose was pushed into his pubes and she felt his twitching prick beating and pumping as come gushed from his tip. He came a lot. She couldn’t breathe or move but she kept her jaw wide and gagged around him as he crammed himself further into her throat and he cursed and moaned and rolled his hips upward in orgasm.

When he’d finally drained himself of everything he had he loosened his grip on her hair and she pulled up, gasping and coughing.

Harry’s fucked out gaze was adorable, she thought. A small smile on his face with pink cheeks and a splotchy red chest from the exertion of his orgasm.

She leaned over him and grasped his jaw, causing his mouth to fall open as she spit down over his tongue, “Swallow.”

Harry gulped down her mix of saliva and his come before his pink lips curved up into a big smile, “Yes ma’am.”

Y/n chuckled and then kissed him before pushing herself upward to climb off but Harry caught her arm before she could get too far, “Wait. You don’t want me to like…”

“Of course I do. But only if you want to. Have you ever eaten anyone out before?”

Harry pushed himself up by his elbows and nodded, “Yeah. Wouldn’t say I’m any good at it. Not sure I could make you come.”

There was a thrill that filed down her spine and to her toes. She didn’t need to come. She just loved how it felt to have someone with their face between her legs. It had been a while. Leo didn’t often give her cunnilingus.

“But do you want to?” She asked pointedly. She wouldn’t dream of having him do something he didn’t like.

“Fuck yes. Just show me what you like and I’ll do it.”

Harry released her wrist and she put her bottom onto the mattress and stuffed pillows behind her so she could sit up and watch. She loved the way Harry was watching her body and how dark his eyes were. He’d just orgasmed but she was confident he’d grow hard again soon. And then perhaps she could give him what he really wanted.

“Take your underwear off the rest of the way.”

Harry got up to his knees and nodded, “Yes ma’am.” A sly smirk on his lips at the new nickname he’d been using for her.

Y/n had never been a fan of being called ma’am. She felt she was too young to be a ma’am but when Harry did it in this context, it got her blood pumping wildly through her veins.

When Harry’s boxer briefs were long gone she pulled at his wrist as she opened her legs up, “Start off just exploring. I’ll guide you if you want. Use your fingers, lips, tongue… and try to keep your eyes on mine.”

Harry licked his lips and knelt over her, his hands finding her outer thighs first and spreading her wider as he looked over her glistening pussy, “So wet. Is this for me?”

His question was a surprise to her. But it was definitely lined with something innocent. Almost as if he hadn’t expected her to be in the state she was in.

Nodding her head slowly and smiling she spoke, “All for you. That’s what you did to me and you haven’t even touched me yet.”

Harry’s dimples poked into his cheeks as he shyly smiled, “Just trying to be a good boy for you ma’am.”

He jutted his tongue out and licked upward from her seeping entrance to her clit and she moaned softly as she watched him. He kept his eyes on her pussy at first. She wanted him to look up at her but she allowed him a moment to get acquainted.

He used one of his hands to gently spread her labia and lick upward again, stopping at her clit and flicking it just the tiniest bit.

“God. You know where the clit is, don’t you? That’s really good, Harry.”

He finally looked back up at her as he mouthed over her pussy and sucked gently. She keened and smiled, “Yes! Keep doing that.”

So he did. He sucked and licked, giving special treatment to her clitoris and he moaned over her as he closed his eyes and lapped at her, and kissed his way around her cunt slowly.

“Finger me. Put two in. Like this,” she reached down to his hand and twisted so his palm was upward and then pulled on his pointer and middle finger, nudging the pads of his fingers to her entrance.

His long digits inside of her didn’t disappoint. He pressed them in and pulled out slowly as he continued lapping and sucking and she gasped into the room.

She looked down at him after the initial recovery of his fingers inside of her for the first time and he was already watching her. She slid a hand over her body, stopping at her breasts for a moment before pushing her fingers into his hair, “You’re so good for me, Harry. Just like that…” she was breathless.

Harry clamped his eyes closed at her praise and used his free hand to reach up and touch her left tit. He kneaded at her flesh and then circled the pads of his fingers over her nipple slowly and she mewled, “Come up here. Suck on my breasts,” she pulled at his hair a little to lift his face, “Keep your fingers inside of me.”

Harry did as she said, pumping his fingers into her as he moved up over her body and latched on to the breast he’d been fondling. He was a star pupil. His tongue laved sensually over her areola and he continued looking at her as he stuffed his fingers knuckles deep.

Sucking on her nipple and pulling away he moved to the other side and a muffled moan vibrated over her chest and she felt his cock against her thigh. He was aroused. Thick and full once again. She knew this would happen. Or at least she hoped it would.

Harry drew his tongue to the underside of her breast and sucked in tightly, pinching her skin and she gasped as she watched him work. He moved to her other side, repeating his gesture and bruising the underside of her boob with an intense suckle that had her flesh turning purple nearly instantly.

“Fuck, Harry.”

She had little need to guide him much. He was passionate enough and horny enough that everything he was doing was just right by her standards.

Harry popped off her nipple and looked up at his stepmom with eyes that brimmed with lust and need, “I want you so bad. Please…” his dark pink lips were wet and set in a pout as he pulled his brows together. He looked like he was in pain. But he didn’t cease fucking into her with his fingers.

Y/n carded her fingers into his hair and cooed at him, “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

She was aware of what he wanted. But somehow she was getting off on having him tell her and ask and beg with his big puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

Harry’s hips dipped down so his prick sat in the spot right next to her pussy. She was wet all over and there was a nice little bit of glid for Harry right there as he removed his fingers from her cunt and pushed them into his mouth. He was holding himself over her with one arm as he licked her essence from his digits before pulling them out to steady himself with both arms, “You. Want to… be with you. I’m so hard again.”

She knew what he wanted. And maybe it was the haze of the dream she’d had or a sudden lack of inhibition on her part, but she wanted the same thing. And his pretty cock would feel nice wrenching into her insides and poking deeply into the viscera.

Y/n nudged at him to move back so she could sit up further, “Are you sure? Because that means you won’t be a virgin anymore. I don’t want to have you regret anything.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t care about being a virgin. The stigma. Never mattered. But,” he put his palm over the top of her thigh and looked at her with hooded eyes, “I know you’ll show me how good it is. I trust you. Only if you want me.”

The sting of warmth shrouded her neck and then her heart. He was sweet and he was convincing.

Nodding her head she put her palm over his cheek and smiled, “I do want you. And I trust you too. Which means this has to stay between us. No one can know.”

Harry nodded. The tiny bit of scruff on his face scratched at her skin as he turned to kiss her palm and grasp her wrist in his hand, “Then, please. Just tell me what to do and how you want it. I’ll be so good for you.”

Intertwining their fingers, Y/n pulled at him to give him a soft kiss. Wet. Trembling. They both were. This was either the biggest mistake of their lives or the beginning of an extraordinary secret. They both knew it. It would change everything. It already had. They’d already given in.

Whispering as she scraped his scalp and dotted kisses at the edge of his mouth, “Do you want a condom? Will that make you feel better? I can’t get pregnant so that’s not an issue and everything else is good in that regard. Up to you.”

Y/n always wore condoms with Leo, at his insistence. Because of their agreement. An open marriage if you will. But with Harry, she’d forego the barrier knowing he was a virgin.

“Do you want me to wear one? I do have some that I’ve never used,” he laughed as he spoke the word used.

“I’d like to feel you just like this,” she lowered her hand to his throbbing shaft and inhaled sharply at how warm and thick he was in her hand, “If that’s okay.”

Harry closed his eyes and nodded, “More than okay.”

“Good. Now. When you fantasize about having sex. What position are you in the most?” Y/n wanted to have him start off with what he fantasized about. She knew he’d like any position, most men did.

The edge of Harry’s mouth quirked up as he breathed out a laugh, “Just… all of them. But, normally I’m on top,” he swallowed.

“That’s good. Let’s start there.” She lay back and spread her legs, gently pulling at him to follow.

Harry put himself between her thighs and brought his palms down to the mattress on either side of her shoulders.

“Push your hips down and line up over me,” She took her hand and guided him so that his heavy cock was slipping through her labia, getting coated in her slick, “Yes, now, move back and forth and just feel how wet I am like this. How it’s getting all over you before you even need to push inside. Feels good right?” Harry’s mouth was dropped open and he nodded, “Yes.”

“Mmm… feels good to me too. When you do that, your tip is hitting my clit. See?” She looked down between their bodies, urging Harry to do the same.

He groaned as he continued gliding through her wet pussy lips, “Fuck. So pretty.”

The sound alone was sexy. Her pussy was really wet and the noise that his dick caused with each pass through her folds was pornographic.

“We’re pretty together, aren’t we?”

He nodded and moaned, moving himself a little faster.

“Such a good boy. Now, I want you to kiss me. Keep your mouth on mine and then when you’re ready, put your delicious cock inside of me. Okay?”

Another moan fell from his lips as he lowered himself to kiss her mouth. Y/n licked over his lips and Harry opened up and used his tongue against hers as he slowly pushed his engorged dick up and down, nudging her clit on each upward thrust. His mouth was watering as he got himself into position, putting his knees down to steady himself and rearing back to align his pink tip with her puffy, wet entrance.

Never removing his lips from hers as he continued kissing her and sipping at her tongue he dipped gently into her. First, his wide head barely smoothed into her until he was met with resistance from the small muscle of her vaginal opening.

She could feel him hesitate, knowing he wasn’t sure if it was too much. She smiled into the kiss and spoke, “Just push. It’s like that on purpose. A little tight on the first go but once you’re in there it’s so good. You’re just a little thick so this is gonna be normal for you. Gotta just press in past my tight opening.”

The whimper that fell from his mouth before he pushed his lips back to hers made her head spin. But what really got her was when he did as she said and pushed in through her muscle and slid himself in half way.

They both gasped, parting from the kiss. There it was. He was inside of her. He moaned into her mouth as he pulled back so his tip was pulled out and then reentered, pushing past that tight muscle again as he licked into her mouth.

It was good. She knew it would feel good. His hard cock was heavy and thick and as he pressed himself in until he couldn’t push any further she gasped at how deep he was.

Harry was on a different plane of existence in that moment. He’d given his virginity to the hottest woman he’d ever met and now he was allowed to fuck her. She’d given him permission and he’d given her permission and his dick had never ever felt so good.

He’d had his cock sucked and he’d used toys with lube that mimicked pussy, but this was… warm and real. And it smelled like her and his mouth still tasted like her and she was moaning as he moved into her. She was enjoying it too. And that… that was the best part.

He continued moving his mouth over hers as he thrust his way into her as deep as he could get until his balls were pressed into her bum. He was more than thankful that he’d already come so he could last a bit longer. He’d still come embarrassingly fast, he was sure, but now he had a little advantage. Instead of three minutes, possibly ten? He hoped. At minimum. Because he didn’t want this feeling to ever end. He’d fuck his stepmom for the rest of his life if it felt this way. They could just stay like this in her bed, slipping together and kissing and being connected.

A knock at the door and the voice of a female was heard from behind the wood.

Harry stopped his movements and Y/n grasped onto him with one hand to keep him still and put her finger up to her mouth, “Who’s there?”

“I’m Harry’s friend, Leslie. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know where he went.”

Harry’s breaths were rapid as he stared down at the pretty woman he was inside of. He’d totally forgotten about Leslie.

“Uh… I think he left? Maybe? Not sure hon! I’m in the middle of something and…” she didn’t know how to get rid of the girl. She didn’t want to be rude but she was truly very much in the middle of something. Something very good. She was just thankful that the door was locked.

Harry slowly began thrusting again as he kept his eyes on Y/n’s, holding himself up over her.

“That’s okay! Sorry! I’ll be leaving. Just tell Harry I will talk to him later!”

The smirk on Harry’s face as he began to press in harder had Y/n’s tummy on fire, or perhaps it was his lengthy cock pushing into her guts, “Thank fuck she’s gone. In the middle of losing my virginity here,” he laughed as he rocked his hips sharply and Y/n grunted at the harsh thud.

“Oooh… fuuu….” Y/n moaned with a smile as he did it again, “So good like that. You gonna fuck me a little harder now? Be a good boy and make it hurt a little.”

Harry was a good listener. Had always been. This time was no different. He began to plunge into her with a dizzying drag, forceful and trenchant. Just like she liked. Especially when it was Harry doing it.

“Like that? You want it like that?” He punctuated his words with each rut of his hips.

“Yeah, just like that,” she scraped her nails over his back and keened as her body was rocked upward on each of his thrusts, “How do you feel? Tell me what it’s like.”

Harry’s hips stuttered as he brought the cadence down so he could speak, “Fuck, it’s good. So fucking nice,” he wanted to say more about how it felt. Wanted to tell her he could do this with her forever and that her pussy was the only one he’d want to fuck from now on (he was sure of that). Wanted to blurt out that she was so pretty and how perfect they looked together. But he held back with the understanding that his lust was clouding the things his heart was feeling at that moment.

“Tell me mmm… oh yes! Right there!” She closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from shouting loudly when Harry ground into her just right, not sure if Leslie was still in the house or not, “Tell me what it feels like inside of me.”

Harry’s panted words were slow and deep, “Like I’m gonna come harder than I ever have. It’s so warm and smooth. Gripping me so tight. Never want it to stop…” his hips smacked against hers as he moved into her with a hungry force.

Her mouth was wide open as her breaths were being knocked out of her lungs and her tits swayed under him.

Harry looked down at his sexy stepmom with her lusty face and body and he lowered down to wrap his lips around hers. She brought her legs over his back and pushed at his bottom with her heels to urge him deeper.

Using his forearms to hold himself up he rolled his hips into her slowing down his pace to make it last. He wanted to feel her like this for a little longer. He knew he could come soon.

Wet squelches between their bodies where they were connected and sliding together with no barriers and tiny creeks from the mattress filled the room. The sound of illicit sex. The sound of something happening that was so wrong that it was good. So good.

Y/n could tell Harry was going to come as his breaths heaved and his thighs trembled against her each time he pushed in, “Harry… you feel so good filling me up. I want to come too,” her words were panted as Harry sliced into her deeply and stilled his hips as he looked down at her.

“Want you to come too. What do you need, Y/n?” Harry’s chest rose and fell quickly as he pushed his thumb over her cheekbone.

“Is it okay if I get on top and ride you how I like? Always come when I get on top.”

Harry smiled and licked into her mouth for a good moment, pulling at her lips and grinding into her further so she could feel him as deep as he could possibly go before, pulling back and gently bringing her thighs down as she placed her feet flat onto the mattress.

Y/n sat up and ogled Harry’s body as he turned and moved to his side. She crawled over him, pushing him down to his back, and sat over her knees between his legs. She brushed her palms up his sturdy thighs up to his hips, never touching his throbbing prick before leaning over him and kissing his right thigh upward to the apex of his thigh and crotch, careful to leave him wanting. Repeating the same worship on his left thigh but taking a little time over the tiger tattoo. She looked up at him as she licked over the ink and then continued kissing her way up, devastatingly close to where he needed her. So close.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Harry. All of you,” she brushed her hands up over his laurels and to the butterfly that was rising and falling with his breath, “I’m surprised you haven’t found someone special already.” She praised. As she lowered her lips to his belly button he felt her hair ghost over his cock and whimpered.

Y/n smiled into his skin as she grazed her teeth gently upward to the butterfly licked around the lines before dotting hot kisses over his pecs, “Please… please…”

Raising her face and looking up at her stepson, “Please? What is it, baby? What do you need?” Her smirk was devious. Harry loved it. He fucking loved every single thing she was doing.

“Wanna feel you on top. Gonna burst.”

Lowering her lips back to his pecs she sucked a nipple passed her lips and nipped. Harry threw his head back into the pillow and coughed out a loud groan, “Ask me nicely. Like a good boy. You’ll get anything you want from me if you’re good, Harry.” Her words were breathed out over his skin and the spattering of chest hair. Her lips made their way up to the swallows.

“Please, ma’am. I want to feel you on top. If you… ffuck… please.”

Her grin did not disappear as she licked and pecked her way up to his neck, “I’m dripping for you, Harry. Such a sweet boy with such a big cock for me to play with. Isn’t that right?”

Harry was going to lose it. This was his fantasy. No. It was better than anything he imagined. Y/n was better. He loved being put in his place because most of the time no one ever challenged him. Or made him feel this way.

“Y…yes. Just for you.”

Y/n sat up and straddled him, placing her knees down on the mattress to the sides of his hips. Finally. She placed her messy cunt over his shaft and slid herself up toward his frenulum and down toward his base, “Just for me. That’s right. Gonna let me play with your cock and fuck myself on it and make myself come, yeah?”

Harry nodded frantically and placed his palms on her hips as she leaned forward and placed her hands over his pecs, “When I start to ride you I’m gonna go slow, up and down like this,” she demonstrated by repeating the motion of her hips, tilting her pelvis down and letting her clit drive up and down over him as she panted, “so I can keep my clit in contact with your pelvis and I’m gonna come pretty fast. I need you to let me come before you do. And if you want you can come inside of me. That’s up to you. Just let me know what you want.”

Harry nodded, “It’s okay if I come inside of you?”

“Yes, it is. Would love it if you did but it’s your choice in the end. Can come in my mouth again if you want, or my tits. Whatever you like.”

“Inside of you, please. That’s what I want.”

“Mmm… such a good boy,” she tilted herself down so her breasts ghosted over his chest as she kissed him softly, lips moving with his and small sips of tongue before she slowly sunk down over him. That same mouthwatering initial push of his wide tip into her opening snapped and then spread her apart, “Hhharry! Fuck your dick is so fucking good!”

He couldn’t speak. It was so intense. His fingers gripped her hips as she shifted over him slowly. Her nails pinched into the flesh over his muscled pectorals and he felt his balls tighten. Her moans and pretty mouth with her tongue peeking out had him leaking steadily with pre cum, “I’m trying…” he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Her tits swayed as she rode him and the way she felt on him had him tipping too fast, “Fuck… Want you to come first…”

She cooed and slowed her hips, sitting upright and changing the position of him inside of her. Deeper yet as she leaned back gently and looked down to where his cock was buried into her.

Harry chanced a peek, not wanting to miss it, and he was not ready for the sight. He groaned and brought one hand from her hip to her clit and then looked up at her before focusing back on the way his cock spread her pussy lips as he thumbed over her clit.

“My sweet boy. Just hang on. This feels so perfect. Just want to soak it in with you.” She lowered her hand over his fingers where he was circling over her button and she hissed, “Gonna make me come so hard Harry,” she swayed her hips back and forth, keeping herself upright so they could enjoy the lurid show of their connected bodies.

Currents of hot arousal coursed through her body as she clenched over him and felt his cock nudging her cervix. It was a tight fit but it had her body leaning into an orgasm.

She leaned back forward, Harry’s fingers pushed away as he placed his hand back onto her hip and she slid up and down, dragging her clit into his pelvis and her gasps and fluttering walls signaled to Harry she was coming.

He closed his eyes and felt sweat at his temple as he felt her squeezing and pulsing as she moaned his name and he felt her thighs shaking, “Yes… yes! Harry! I need you… need this… Hhaaarry… fuck! Fffuck!”

The mattress moved and creaked under Harry’s back as his stepmom got off on his cock and Harry was certain he was already filling her up with gushes of his pre-come. He was doing his best but he’d never experienced a cunt squeezing around him in orgasm. It was witchcraft and he was obsessed. He’d never be the same.

“Come! Harry, come inside of me baby…” she moaned as she continued rocking over him, everything slick and smooth between them.

Harry choked out the loudest moan and he was so far gone he couldn’t be bothered to care how vocal it was. He didn't care if anyone heard it. He was coming and his sight dimmed as he pumped into his stepmom’s pussy as she milked him with her spasming muscle. Together their moans were the music of relief.

Y/n could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of her as he released his sperm into her aching and slippery inner tissues. He was punching into her so deep from below her it made her quiver in euphoric pain. She leaned over him and attached their mouths as he finished himself inside of her. She grasped his head on each side, her fingers in his thick hair to keep his head tilted up so their lips could move together.

He'd come undone completely. Tears pricked at his eyes and slid down his cheeks as he whined into her mouth and attempted to kiss her in return. He moved his hands to her ass and pressed her down as he lifted his hips so he could burrow in deep causing her to gasp and then squeak at the punishing plunge.

“Fuck, Harry!”

They were both shivering and heaving and kissing with saliva-covered lips and moans and wildly beating hearts.

When he’d calmed he sucked in a sharp breath as she collapsed over him and snuggled her face into his neck. They were sweaty and sticky and hot but it felt precious and perfect.

Harry closed his eyes and basked in the way Y/n felt on top of him, her warm breath at his neck, her wet pussy soothing his softening cock as his heart calmed. He dragged his hands up from her bottom to her back and rubbed along her spine, the pads of his fingers slipping through the layer of sweat that had formed.

He felt her lips pucker at his neck and then her nose push upward until her lips were at his jaw and then she pushed up to look down at him.

“Are you okay?”

Harry couldn’t imagine not being okay as long as he was getting fucked like that. But the issue was that Y/n was not just some girl he could date and then fall in love with. There would be no possibility of them being together. In fact, he was unsure that this would ever happen again and that had his heart sinking before he could even answer her.

She noticed the look of unease over his features and she swiped at his cheeks with her thumbs, “Hey… what’s wrong? I’m sorry, was that-“

“No. That was everything I ever wanted it to be. It was perfect, Y/n. I’m… fine. I’m okay. Just thinking.”

She nodded as she moved herself off of him and lay on her side to talk to him. He followed her and rolled to his side, his hands not leaving her hips, not yet ready to be rid of this moment.

“Tell me. What are you thinking about it? You can talk to me.” Her fingers brushed over his arms and up to his shoulders as she watched his glassy eyes closely.

Harry smiled sadly and shook his head, “It’s stupid. It’s not your problem.”

Y/n sighed and lifted her leg to drape her thigh over his, “Talk to me. Please. We just did something very risky and now we’re treading in dangerous water. Let’s keep open with each other. Okay? Because there’s no one else to talk to about this,” she grazed her knuckles along his cheekbone, “Pretty boy. Please talk to me.”

He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes to gather the thoughts brimming from his head.

“I don’t know how I’m ever gonna forget about this and move on.” He opened his eyes to look at her and slowly smoothed his palm over her side and to her breast, “I really like you. I’m feeling things that maybe I shouldn’t.”

Y/n nodded and swallowed. She loved the way his fingers ghosted over her nipple and how glassy his green eyes were, how gentle, “Me too.”

He blinked his eyes, all shiny eyelids and damp lashes covering and then revealing his pretty irises, “You do? Feel things?”

She grinned and closed her eyes. It felt like a lot. She wasn’t in love with him or anything and this had been a mistake for sure. An epic error. But she was feeling something. His warmth and his heart and his excitement. It transferred over to her veins and her skin and the roots of her hair and sparked a longing for something. When she opened her eyes again she licked her lips, “Yeah. I like you a lot. Wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t.”

“Would you… consider doing it again? With me? Like,” he clenched his jaw and brought his hand up to her clavicle, “a thing just for us. Our secret?”

He was sure she’d say no.

Biting her lips she lifted herself and pulled Harry’s bottom arm under her head so she could draw in closer to him. She just wanted to be as close as possible. She brought her hand to lie flat over his heart and tilted her head back to look up at him, her thigh still braced over his hip. He moved his hand down her body to the back of her thigh as she adjusted herself in close.

“It’s so bad. What we’ve just done. It crosses a line. So many invisible lines,” she whispered as she traced her finger upward to his neck, “But… I guess I don’t care. Because I wanna keep doing it. I guess that makes me a terrible person.”

Stitching his brows together he frowned, “You’re a beautiful person, Y/n. So kind and smart,” he squeezed her hip and pulled her up to his mouth so he could kiss her. His stepmom, his lover, his paramour. He pulled back, his nose pressed to hers, “If you’re a terrible person then I’m right there with you. Let’s be terrible people together.”

They both laughed at Harry’s words and grinned widely.

It was ludicrous. A wild suggestion to continue their illicit affair. Of course, it would be easy. Too easy. That is as long as no one ever found out.

“Do I have you for the rest of the day?” Y/n tucked herself in closer as she asked.

“That you do. And I think there’s so much more for you to teach me. Might be a really late night for us.”

“Oh definitely, until the wee hours. So many things you need to learn before I let you leave.”

Next part: 2. No panties? | A Good Boy Masterlist

A/N: What did you think? I have so many ideas for this story but I didn't want it to get any longer than it already is. Would you guys be interested in seeing more? Let me know!

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[littledovesnow]

the sound of snow

request: coriolanus with a girlfriend (wife in this case) who has hearing damange from the war

word count: 2.2k

content warnings: coriolanus being kinda awful in his speech but it's canon sooo, lucky flickerman trying to make a joke (spoiler: it doesn't land well), i think that's it?

a/n: ok i am not d/Deaf/HoH but i do have friends and former classmates who are, and i've done research before writing this. please correct me if i am wrong about anything. i left some things vague (such as hearing loss level), but overall i think it's decent?

also italics are when there's sign language being used :)

also also i had like three title ideas for this but i feel like they're all so bad but i liked this one the best

-----

Coriolanus had first met you back when you were both still wet behind the ears, unsure of how to navigate life after the Dark Days. His family had taken a direct hit when District 13 was no longer, his family’s fortune plundering into the depth unknown. Your family, however, had to face a different setback: a few rather close bomb blasts had stolen a majority of your hearing.

Coming from an affluent family, you were able to afford a private tutor growing up, teaching you and your family sign language, though as you grew old enough you were fit for a hearing aid in the left ear—the only one with enough hearing left to make it worthwhile.

All the while, you and Coriolanus never turned your backs on each other, choosing to let each other in on your trials and tribulations, knowing secrets were safe between the two of you. He had thus learned sign language from being in your home so often, Tigris and the Grandma’am having picked up on some of the more common phrases.

When you were both of age to begin at the Academy, your father fought tooth and nail with the Dean to ensure you were well-equipped with an interpreter when necessary, though you often went without one as you grew tiresome of the stares from your classmates.

During the 10th Annual Hunger Games, you say alongside Coriolanus as you two watched the tributes battle for victory, both celebrating when Lucy Gray was crowned the victor, both unaware of what fate waited your boyfriend the following day.

His stint in District 12 was something you two rarely spoke on, choosing to forget those few disastrous months while you were separated, you back in the Capitol studying at University while Coriolanus learned the hard way what it meant to be a Peacekeeper, to learn what it feels like to betray a friend, to learn what true power felt like.

Dr. Gaul had spoken to you prior to calling Coriolanus back to the Capitol, wanting your input if he would be a considerable candidate for her Gamemaker Apprenticeship, to which you informed her it was one of the biggest honors he would have wished for. Thus, Coriolanus was recalled back to the Capitol, back to you, where he stood alongside Dr. Gaul to prepare for years of Hunger Games, eventually landing as a true Gamemaker as Dr. Gaul began to take steps back in preparation for her retirement.

One day, however, Coriolanus had told her he was interested in becoming Panem’s next president, with Felix Ravinstill gone and no other heirs of the title, an election would take place. It was no surprise to the Head Gamemaker when the blonde brought the idea up, having seen him yearn and hunger for the coveted presidential position since he was fresh out of the Academy.

It came as no shock when he was announced at the Panem’s next president, you alongside of him as the First Lady. The country never knew what would become of the young couple, stars and revenge in their eyes.

-----

Coriolanus knew where he could find you once he returned from the Citadel, having met with Dr. Gaul for the upcoming 25th Hunger Games. He wanted them to be more of a spectacle than usual, to commemorate the quarter century since the end of the war.

He ignored the Avox who had opened the door to the private wing of the mansion, ignored the Avox who had his usual glass of whiskey waiting on a silver platter.

Opening the door to the greenhouse, Coriolanus’ eyes lit up as he saw you carefully pruning the rose bush planted in memorial of the Grandma’am. “Love?”

You looked up, and Coriolanus smiled when he realized your hearing aid was still in. You usually chose not to wear it while at home, preferring the comfortable silence from time to time.

“How was your day?” He asked, helping you untie the gardening smock you wore to protect the clothing underneath.

“It was fine, uneventful.” You replied, looking at the garden around the two of you. “How was Volumnia?”

Coriolanus was still gobsmacked that Dr. Gaul allowed his wife to call her by her first name, only a select few Capitol citizens were granted that honor, though he was one of them.

“She misses you, asked that you stop by sometime for lunch.” Coriolanus mused, plucking a rose out of the bunch in the vase. “Maybe you can help her come up with some new strategies for The Games, she loved your idea of stocking some food in the middle.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, not expecting the silly idea of arming the tributes with food to be such a hit in the Captiol. Betting had been at an all-time high for the tributes who had been able to get their hands on the stale, tasteless protein bars.

“I’ll see if she’s available on Thursday.” You knew the mad scientist would make room any day to meet with you. She had a soft spot for you, no one was quite sure why.

“You can ask her this evening, since we have that awful gala to start preparing for The Games.”

You looked at your husband, clearly forgetting about the gala. “I forgot that was tonight. I wouldn’t have pruned the roses if I had known.”

Coriolanus, who was cold-hearted and strict in public, simply waved off the nonissue. “You wore gloves, a smock, you look as beautiful as ever.”

You pressed your lips to his, disappearing to the bathroom for a shower prior to getting ready.

-----

 Attending Capitol galas and evening events as First Lady of Panem was something you weren’t sure you would ever get used to. Cameras flashing, various news outlets trying to get a snippet of you and Coriolanus talking, microphones in your faces.

Not that they would get anything, as Coriolanus was only going to give hints at his next political plans, life events, anything really, to Lucky Flickerman, who he had become rather close with following his mentorship in the Academy.

“D’you want anything to drink?” Coriolanus asked, lips brushing on the shell of your left ear.

Nodding, you two moved over to the bar for a couple glasses of posca before starting the endless circle of meeting politicians, thanking Capitol elites for their support, and the nagging question of when you two would start a family.

You had eventually been able to break free from the conversation you and Coriolanus were stuck in when Lucky Flickerman himself took the spot in behind the podium, preparing to start the night’s speeches.

Taking your seats, you felt Coriolanus place his arm on the back of your chair, hand brushing up and down the back your right bicep, goosebumps breaking out in the area.

As Lucky began his speech, you moved closer to your husband, whispering in his ear, “I can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Coriolanus looked back at you, noticing the missing hearing aid, eyebrow raised.

“I forgot to put it back in after my shower.”

Without missing a beat, Coriolanus shifted in his seat and began to interpret the speeches for you, ignoring the not-so-subtle looks you two were getting, mainly from newer guests who weren’t used to seeing the president use sign language.

At the conclusion of Lucky’s speech, a Capitol employee scuttled over to the First Couple.

“President Snow, we can have an Avox translate if you’d like.”

Frowning, Coriolanus shook his head. “That’s alright, I can interpret for my wife.”

The employee didn’t seem to expect that response, simply blinking at the couple.

“Is that a problem?” Coriolanus asked, ignoring your hand on his knee.

“N-no, not at all. I just- you’re expected to make a speech tonight, too.” The employee tried to backpedal, not wanting to ruin his career tonight.

You chose this moment to speak up, not wanting Coriolanus to overreact. “It’s fine, Coryo’s quite apt at making sure I know what’s going on. Why don’t you be a dear and get me a glass of wine?”

The employee was quick to leave the conversation, and Coriolanus looked at you. “You’re too kind to them.”

Shrugging, you took the full glass without so much as a glance in the employee’s direction. “Someone has to be.”

Coriolanus let out an airy laugh as he stood up, dusting off some nonexistent crumbs from his burgundy suit. He squeezed your arm before departing from your side, taking his place where Lucky Flickerman had left open, the weatherman-turned-host made sure to give his hand a shake as they exchanged pleasantries.

 Giving everyone a moment to settle down, Coriolanus cleared his throat before beginning, shocking nearly everyone in the room as he used both his voice and hands to conduct the speech.

“The Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games are right around the corner, so I thought I would give you all a twist I’m putting into the Reaping ceremony this year, and potentially the following Reapings. Dr. Gaul and I have had numerous discussions about how tributes are elected, and from prior games being rigged, we have initiated a couple updates to the ceremony and process.”

You were curious of the updates Coriolanus was talking about, unaware he was still dipping his toes into Gamemaking.

“Rather than each District’s mayor or elected spokesperson calling the names, we will have someone from the Capitol pull names. It will eliminate the possibility for rigging the tributes. In addition, who really wants to watch groups of children kill each other? With Reaping eligibility starting at age twelve, the Gamemakers and I have decided to increase the number of entries one gets as they age. When they reach the age of eighteen, each possible tribute will be entered into the Reaping six times.”

You weren’t able to hear everyone’s whispers, but you could see them looking at each other, taking in the news.

Coriolanus concluded his speech by introducing Dr. Gaul’s assistant, as the Head Gamemaker had something come up rendering her unable to attend the gala.

When he returned to your side, you looked him up and down. “Some updates, huh? Whose idea were they?”

Coriolanus had a smirk on his face, simply bringing his glass of posca to his lips.

-----

After all of the speeches were finished, some music began to play, letting the now tipsy and drunk Capitol elite take the dancefloor with eager steps.

Lucky Flickerman meandered over to where you and Coriolanus were still seated, discussing what Tigris deserved for her upcoming birthday.

“Not going to share a dance tonight?” He asked, looking between the two of you.

“Oh, Lucky, you should now, we don’t really dance. Only for the most special of occasions.” Coriolanus smiled, twisting the wedding band around his finger.

You wore a matching smile, though your reply wasn’t quite what Lucky expected. “And besides, Lucky, I’m not the best dancer if I can’t hear the music. You should have seen the first time we tried to dance together in the Academy.”  

The mustached man opened his mouth like he was going to reply, but nothing came out except for a chuckle.

Coriolanus hid his smile behind the glass of water he had switched to, not able to tolerate the posca and wine like he had before.

It was one of his favorite moments after you two had officially started dating. The Academy had their annual prom, though it tended to be more of a fashion show than dance, as many students arrived in extravagant outfits that were ill-suited for dancing.

You had been in a sparking silver dress, heels a gift from your mother, red-tinted lips dropping when Coriolanus asked you to dance with him.

It had been enough missteps to last a lifetime, but the two of you took it in stride, promising each other to get a proper dance instructor before your first dance at the wedding years later.

“I do hate to break up the fond memory, honey, but we should be heading out.”

Coriolanus downed the rest of his water before standing, lending you his arm as you two bid goodnight to your friends and Coriolanus’ closest colleagues, before disappearing from the gala.

-----

You walked out of the bathroom from taking your makeup off to see Coriolanus sitting on the bed, sheets pulled back for your arrival.

“Who are you thinking will be the Capitol’s representative for the Reaping?” You asked, mind still going back to the Reaping updates.

Coriolanus closed the book he was reading, eyes looking you up and down as you climbed into the bed. “I don’t know yet. Why, do you have anyone in mind?”

You shrugged, pulling the sheets up to your chest, yawn escaping your lips. “No one in particular, but I’m sure I could come up with some names.”

Coriolanus laughed, setting his book on the nightstand next to him. “We can talk about it when you’re not going to fall asleep in mere minutes. Goodnight, love.”

“Mm, ‘night, Coryo.” You whispered, letting Coriolanus’ soft breathing and the distant sounds of sirens lull you to sleep.

-----

a/n: hey was this good should i do more in this universe let me know

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #hunger games imagine #hunger games tbosas #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #deaf!reader

[talesoftheunimagined]

[Mistaken Identity] Chapter 1

Rating: General

Fandom: Good Omens (Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett)

Relationships: Aziraphale x Crowley, Aziraphale/Crowley

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Heartbreak, Love, Georgian Era

Summary:

The year is 1797. King George has just gotten over a bout of illness and a member of the English royal family had just gotten married to a Duchess of Holland, so why not throw a masquerade ball to celebrate the occasion and invite all the noblemen and women of The United Kingdom and surrounding areas?

Crowley and Aziraphale meet at the ball. Crowley, though, mistakes some identities.

Chapter 2 is now up! Here

😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈

ENGLAND 1797

Candlelight flickered over segments of intricate and boundless tiling, almost making it twinkle beneath the frilled edges of gowns and waltzing heeled shoes, lavishly gilded marble pillars adorned with various flowers joined the flooring to gilded balconies and up again to a florally carved and a gloriously painted plaster ceiling that supported the vast weight of what could well have been solid gold chandeliers that gleamed dully next to the candles that burnt in their arms amongst an abundance of crystal and diamond. Portraits of members of the English aristocracy adorned the walls and appeared with colorful landscapes and shining bright frames of bowls of fruits; apples, grapes, and bananas. A light summer breeze blew in through open windows which divulged any passers-by of the grandeur that the ballroom's event held.

Indeed. That night, at its very core, would be defined by the words grandeur and affluent.

George William Frederick, otherwise known as Mad King George in this modern day and had thrown a masquerade ball after marriage in the family and recovery a long bout of illness (although, his absence at the ball had arisen suspicions of deceit).

"I just absolutely knew that I'd see you here."

"Oh, 'course. Wouldn't miss something like this." He looked at is companion briefly.

Two men stood by a pillar. One clad in deep wine knickerbockers, white high socks and a matching wine tailcoat with shiny new obsidian buttons the colour of crows down; had his hair in neat copper rolls fastened just above his ears and a low ponytail fastened with a black ribbon hung over the back of his collar. Over his face, he wore a finely crafted mask of mahogany red. Gold rimmed the dramatically flicked eye holes that were shaded with black glass so that his eyes weren't visible. Two golden snakes seemed to search curiously for his eyes at the sides of the mask that was tied neatly with a black lace bow. The other was dressed quite similarly, except his knickerbockers were a nice magnolia that matched his hair and he wore a waistcoat of sky blue. He wore his hair naturally short and took pride in the sheen of his polished and buckled shoes in the candlelight. His mask was made of white porcelain rimmed with thick silver swirls and ornate curves. Blue gems nestled themselves amongst the curls and caught the light in a way that looked almost like a halo at the top of his mask. It wasn't quite clear how he kept such a mask from falling off of his face without a fastening, but he was doing it.

Aziraphale took a small sip from his glass (he was drinking honey spirits) and smiled at his surroundings and the people. Maybe even at nothing in particular. He was just happy to be in the presence of fine people, fine food and Crowley. His eyes creased at the sides and his cheeks glowed. It had been the first time since Paris 1793 that the pair had seen each other.

"It's really rather lovely, isn't it? All these people here, together. Having a wonderful time." The music swelled

"Yesss, well," Crowley mused. "with all that going on out in France, they all need it." The corners of his mouth turned down, but he wasn't frowning, or upset. It was just a Crowley thing.

The pair of them spotted a young woman bashfully approaching Crowley from across the other side of the room amidst the flurry of dress fabric and petticoats. She was wearing a swan mask, made of the same porcelain is Aziraphale's. She had a pretty face, her deep blue eyes peered out of her mask with shy curiosity and her dark hair was the nest for a large swan feather.

"Excuse me for being so bold, Count Crowley, but if you aren't occupied at the moment, I was wondering if you would like to dance?" Crowley turned to Aziraphale ever so slightly. "With...me." She clarified although both men (well, men shaped ethereal and occult beings) knew what she meant. Crowley accepted the invitation. It wouldn't do any harm to do some tempting tonight.

"I suppose I'll see you later then, eh?" He shot a small smirk at Aziraphale before disappearing into the sea of expensive fabrics leaving Aziraphale alone with his drink.

The angel watched with content at the couples that swirled and waltzed and box stepped. It wasn't long before he himself was asked to dance by a young woman. He smiled, asked a butler to kindly hold his drink, adjusted his waistcoat and set off to dance under the twinkling candles.

The night was still young.

#aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #good omens #crowley #aziracrow #fluff #angst #masked ball #aziraphale/crowley #chapter 1

[joheunsaram]

Catch of the Century (Collab Masterlist)

Hello everyone! Welcome to the stadium!

Take a seat and witness our very own Kim Seokjin knock it out of the park in his role as Worldwide Sporty Guy on his thirtieth birthday!

Isi (@raplinesmoon​), Ryen (@kithtaehyung​) and Mars (@joheunsaram​) are super excited to announce the masterlist for our first ever BTS 30 for 30 collab. We have gathered 30 phenomenal writers to showcase 30 sports celebrating Seokjin’s athletic prowess for his 30th birthday! 

Please see below the cut for details of the fics. All fics go live by December 15th so get ready to cheer and don’t forget to come back to read them!

Cupid's On Holiday by @persephonesorchid Archery Seokjin x Reader angel au | smut, fluff, angst, humour You don't get it, you're a damn catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You're smart, you're tidy, hell you'd give up your own kidney to a homeless guy if he needed it that bad. So what the issue? Failed relationships, blind date after blind date, and now your friend's competitive archery teammate is telling you he's Cupid here to help you find your one true love. You're not that desperate. He could take those golden arrows and shove 'em.

Subtle by @apotatomashedbybts​ Badminton Badminton Player Seokjin × Badminton Player Reader  strangers to lovers | angst, smut, fluff

Shelves full of trophies, albums full of newspaper cuttings, a loving family and a stellar reputation, yet you felt a piece of yourself missing somewhere. So after a lifelong affluent and unprecedented badminton career, at the timeless age of 65, 30 years after your retirement, you decided to write your autobiography. You gave yourself to the world and in return came accolades and controversies alike. But what came the most was questions about the most explicit chapter of your life, that you named Subtle.

Turn Back Time by @raplinesmoon Baseball Baseball Player Seokjin x Doctor Reader time travel au | angst, smut, fluff, humour

After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

Technical Fault by @bangtansmauyeondan Basketball Basketball Coach Seokjin × Teacher Reader  coworkers au | fluff, angst

When one of your best students in class failed his mid-term exams, you only had one person to blame— Coach Jin. He thinks he's the king of the world— tall, handsome, brooding, borderline arrogant and seems to be always getting things done his way, but you are adamant to give him a piece of your mind. The only problem is that you easily get tongue-tied in his presence.

Who's the Best? by @lokidow-strange-army Boxing Private Boxing Teacher Seokjin x Rich Uni Student Reader age gap | angst, smut

Power means money and money is power. Living out of your parents seemingly endless bank account as a grown women gives you as much power and freedom as you could desire. When your parents discover you have been spending their money on university classes and private boxing lessons instead of trying to court a husband, they threaten to cut you off financially until you get your act together. You have no intention of settling down anytime soon, nor do you intend on losing access to your parents bank account, so you make a plan on how to not lose either; one big lie that relies on you and your boxing teacher Kim Seokjin... That is if he'll play along. Fortunately you know how to rile this man up better than anyone else: first with money and food, then with teasing, taunting and a good old fashion competition.

Almost in Love by @btsstan12 Cricket Seokjin x Reader fluff, angst, humour

Do you know what the saddest English word is? Almost. They almost cracked the code, they almost passed, they almost survived, they almost fell in love. When Jin left his old life behind to pursue professional cricket he didn’t think he’d ever return. But as fate would have it, he came back, just to have his life turned upside down. He knew this wasn’t an ‘almost’, not this time.

Into The Rush by @sunshinerainbowsbts​ Dodgeball Seokjin x Reader best friend’s brother au | smut, fluff, angst, humour

When your best friend Taehyung tells you he has the perfect thing to help you get over a broken heart, you're surprised to learn he means dodgeball, the beloved game of sociopathic gym teachers everywhere. But even more surprising is the way you find comfort in the game, and so much more, as you fall into the rush with the help of another teammate - his brother, Seokjin.

Allez by @hamsterclaw Fencing Seokjin x Reader competitive fencing au | smut

Seokjin’s the latest fencer to join your parents’ studio. He’s talented, beautiful and challenges you in ways beyond the foil.

On Thin Ice by @mrworldwideshoulders  Figure Skating Figure Skater Reader x Figure Skater Seokjin enemies to lovers | fluff, angst, smut

Kim Seokjin is the image of the perfect figure skater – and he knows it. He’s got the skills, the talent, the looks – the only thing he’s missing is the matching gold medal. But when singles skating turns out to be too much for him to handle after an embarrassing mistake and a knee injury at the World Championship, his coach decides that his best chance at taking gold will be skating with a partner. That's where you come in. There’s only one problem: he’s damn near impossible to work with.

Take the Bait by @aquagustd Fishing Fisherman Seokjin x Reader vacation au | smut

When you wake up on unfamiliar shores after a wild yacht party, the last thing you expected was to land in the home of the town’s very own urban legend; although he’s not as callous as the stories paint him to be and one look at his face has one horrible idea leading to another.

Oh My Angel by @jeonspub Golf Golf Player Seokjin x Golf Player Reader strangers to lovers | fluff, angst, smut

Between seas, galaxies and the moon I was lucky I stepped on the same land, I dreamt under the same stars as you.

Stick It by @otsukare--sope​ Gymnastics Gymnast Kim Seokjin x Kim Taehyung friends to lovers, hurt/comfort | fluff

Seokjin always sticks the landing. Always. Until a certain someone throws him for a loop - or just makes him miss one. (Alternatively, 3 times Seokjin nails the landing and the 1 time he doesn’t.)

Bar Down by @ressjeon​ Hockey Hockey player Seokjin x Reader college au | angst, fluff, smut

Everything was going well, meeting Seokjin when he was a senior was the highlight of your freshman year. You love the stability now that you’re still his favourite after a year until rumours started where he’s apparently dating a renowned figure skater - whom you have known him to have a history with.

The Torn Prince by @sugakookitty​ Mixed Martial Arts Lycan Seokjin x Human Female Reader enemies to lovers, supernatural au | angst, smut

Centuries ago, he was the crowned prince next in line to take over the throne, but he lost everything when he refused to dilute his bloodline with a human bride. The punishment was severe—an eternity plagued with an unbreakable curse. He’s out-lived his entire kingdom, and his kind is nearly extinct. The beast living within him longs for the perfect mate, but it can’t be you.

Beyond the Flag by @underthe-northernlight​ Racing Racer Seokjin x Motorcyclist Reader enemies to lovers | action, fluff, angst

Kim Seokjin, declared handsomest raced in South Korea, triple crowned World Cup winner. Now he faces a challenge unlike any other; to get back behind the wheel before the next season or quit while he has his life ahead of him. After a major crash on the course, people start talking about his retirement but deep down Jin is still not ready to quit even though he might risk his life. A call from CIA agent Park Jimin persuaded him to uncover whatever Seoul’s biggest illegal racing community hides under the hood. (Y/N), the hard-headed motorcyclist helps him on the way to take back his confidence behind the wheel but will he be back before the next season?

Swing by @shina913​ Rowing Seokjin x Reader college au, best friends to lovers | angst, fluff, smut

You and Jin have been friends for years. You’ve been in sync in almost every aspect of your lives–even scoring full-ride scholarships to the same university! You, based on academics and him, in athletics. Although you both said that your friendship would remain the same, changes were inevitable. You grew apart and watched your friendship wither until it was all but a distant memory. When you reach your senior year, he finds out that his scholarship is on the line and you are the only person he can turn to for help. Will you come to his aid for old time's sake?

Other Half of My Heart by @onmypillow-onmytable​ Rugby Rugby Player Seokjin x Teacher Reader strangers to idiots to lovers | fluff, humor, angst, (implied) smut

After leaving the family business on the brink of turning 30, Seokjin is still trying to figure out where he truly belongs. Much to his family’s dismay, he’d rather stay at home playing video games or joining the scrum of the local rugby club, instead of planning his next move. That’s until he sees you, an ordinary elementary school teacher, at one of his rugby matches, and begins to think more seriously about his future for the first time. Will he make a try for you, or fumble the ball?

Come Sail Away by @the-boy-meets-evil​ Sailing Seokjin x Reader idiots to lovers | fluff, smut, angst

Seokjin is (finally) exactly where he wants to be. he's got the perfect team and they're competing in the best regattas around the world. Nothing could burst his bubble. Until Taehyung ends up breaking his arm, that is. now Seokjin has two options. On the one hand, he can withdraw his team from the regatta this year, ignoring the fact that it only takes place every two years and he's not guaranteed to qualify again. or he can call you. He hasn't talked to you since university and he's not particularly looking forward to it now but he's desperate and you're the only replacement he knows that can fill in.

Riding Fakie by @ugh-yoongi​ Skateboarding Seokjin x Female Reader humour, fluff, angst

The rules are clear: bring a date to your brother’s wedding or kiss your trust fund goodbye, which is fine except you hate your brother, so who better to scam into accompanying you than the obnoxious, immature skateboarder that lives to torment you? He’s got tattoos and a seemingly permanent black eye, and you’ve got a bone to pick—there’s no way you’re going to face plant.

Wipeout by @yoon2k​ Snowboarding Debate Captain Seokjin x Reader college au, enemies to lovers | fluff, smut

You always thought that you could go toe-to-toe with Seokjin on anything—be it the debate team topics, witty insults, or plain bickering back and forth. But when your friends drag you both out to a ski resort for winter break, you realize his hidden snowboarding talent shows you up in ways that make even your frozen cheeks fume in anger. Even worse, you find out another secret about the Debate Team Captain—and this one heats you up in ways you never expected.

A Game of Two Halves by @madbutgloriouspond​ Soccer Goalie Seokjin x Physical Therapist Female Reader angst, smut 

When Jin finds himself injured right before the most important games of the season, he starts to second guess himself and whether or not he’ll be able to bounce back in time.

All You're Giving Me Is Friction by @hot-soop​ Surfing Surfer Seokjin x Lifeguard Reader fluff, angst

You’ve graduated! congratulations - you’ve got one thing checked off your parents ten year plan! Now all that’s left to do is start your dreary office job, drag yourself up the ladder to CEO, marry your (as yet unknown) dream guy, and carve out some time to pop out a few kids before your ovaries shrivel up… except all of that sounds horrendous, and you’d much rather spend the next three months at Hoseok’s beach house with your closest friends - relaxing, partying, and sleeping late while you still can. and it would be your last perfect summer break, if it weren’t for the most irritating man on the planet (and his chickens) living next door.

The Restitution Coefficient by @effortandmore​ Table Tennis Seokjin x Namjoon fluff, smut

Seokjin has everything going for him. He was one of the youngest people to make VP at his company, at the top of his class in college, is a bit of a racquet sport savant, an excellent cook, and good-looking. Like, really good looking. According to people other than his mother, thank you very much. So, when things around him start to crumble because of one stubborn and annoyingly attractive client, he finds himself looking for vindication in a place he's sure he can’t be beat—the annual office ping pong tournament.

Trade My Life by @btsmosphere​ Taekwondo Bodyguard Seokjin x Royalty Reader historical au, childhood friends to lovers | angst, action

Two children giggling in the corner of the dojang, trading equally in punches and hugs, everything a game. But that was long ago, and now that man stands day after day outside the door which separates your two worlds. is the throne really worth leaving the barrier unbroken?

Double Fault by @joonscypher​ Tennis Pro Tennis Player Seokjin x Female Reader strangers to lovers | fluff, humor, smut

Working at a fancy rich people tennis resort means you run into your fair share of oblivious, privileged pricks. This year’s tennis tournament brings even more arrogant wealthy people, which includes international tennis champion, Kim Seokjin. You’d love to ignore him and go about your life as usual, but Seokjin has other plans - doing his best to ensure you can’t ignore him and maybe even…fall for him?

All Rumours Are True by @biteofkookie​ Track and Field Seokjin x Reader enemies to lovers | fluff, angst

Seokjin lives and breathes track. it’s his last year and as the star player he’s intent on ending with a bang, but when he’s supposed to be focusing the most you come crashing into his life. You’re rude, entitled, practically everything he hates and now he is forced to spend every moment where he could be getting better with you.

Ultimately Yours by @joheunsaram​ Ultimate Frisbee Seokjin x Resident Advisor Reader college au, exes to lovers | fluff, humour, angst, smut

Breaking up with Kim Seokjin might have been a mistake but when his stubbornness leads to him constantly creating messes for you, the only solution you can think of is finding another man. Good thing Yoongi is very agreeable, under the right threats.

All Or Nothing by @magicshopaholic​ Volleyball Idol Seokjin x Best Friend OC idiots/best friends to lovers | humour, part of a series

Seokjin has nothing against playing a spirited game of volleyball, especially with his best friend on his team, until he notices you're high-fiving one of your teammates a little too much.

Black Sea by @meirkive​ Water Polo Mermaid Seokjin x Reader college au, fantasy au, enemies to lovers | fluff, angst

Mermaids are assholes and Kim Seokjin, infamous captain of the water polo team of your college, is no exception. Handsome and full of himself to the point his ego probably needs a house of its own, much like the rest of his species, he believes he's better than humans and that he doesn't really need to get mixed with them other than for having fun at parties and to crush them during games. It's just your luck, then, when you have to work on a project with him for a whole semester.

Babyface by @nabiolive​ Wrestling Pro Wrestler Seokjin x Non-binary Pro Wrestler Reader rivals to lovers | angst, hurt/comfort

An up and coming pro wrestling company hires you to work alongside Kim Seokjin—a rising star in the industry, and everyone's favourite heel. His arrogance is dashed when he discovers you are not only talented enough to rival his skills, but that he can't stop thinking about you.

Thank you to all the writers for their hardwork and to you for supporting us! If you would like to be tagged in any of these fics please comment on this post so the writers that do tag readers are made aware!

Please reblog if you love Seokjin hehe 💕

#seokjin x reader #happy birthday jin #jin 30 for 30 #catch of the century #jin x reader #jin smut #jin angst #jin fluff #jin fanfic #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff

[blueiskewl]

Archaeologists Discovered Large Roman Baths Under Museum in Croatia

The pool, mosaic floors and underfloor heating once formed part of Emperor Diocletian’s palace.

Archaeologists working to install a lift and restore the ground floor of Split City Museum got more than they bargained for when they unearthed sizable Roman baths underneath the building’s reception. The museum in Croatia’s second largest city was founded in 1946 and is held inside the Dominik Papalić palace—the former home of the affluent Papalić family who settled in Split during the 14th century.

The baths are in a well-preserved condition and include a pool, mosaic floors, ancient underfloor heating, an oil and grape press, and a furnace. Communal bathing was common across the Roman Empire, and baths acted as a space for relaxation and socializing.

The Split baths are believed to have been part of Diocletian’s Palace, built in the city at the end of the 3rd century for the Roman emperor’s retirement. The large fortress once spanned half of Split’s Old Town, and parts of the palace’s remains are listed UNESCO World Heritage Sites. The discovery of these Roman baths confute historians’ previous understandings about the layout of the ancient complex.

he repairs were planned as part of the “Palace of Life, City of Change” project, which is described as an “integrated program of development of the visitor infrastructure of the Old City Core with Diocletian’s palace.”

Split lies on the Adriatic Sea coast and was founded in the 3rd century B.C.E. as a Greek colony (then known as Aspálathos). Split’s landscape is made up of myriad architectural styles spanning hundreds of years, from classical ruins to Venetian Gothic structures. The director of the Split City Museum Vesna Bulić Baketić, spoke about the city’s rich architectural composition, “the fact that all of these layers of earlier buildings that once made up the city are visible inside the Split City Museum provides this museum with additional value that is exceptionally rare.”

The museum plans to open up part of the newly discovered baths to the public, once the structural integrity of the building has been ensured. The ground floor will also be restructured to celebrate the new discovery. “Showing our visitors the ‘living past’ that speaks to us through the original layers of centuries long gone adds insurmountable value and legacy to future generations,” Baketić said. “It is up to us to carry this out in the best and most professional way.”

By Verity Babbs.

#Emperor Diocletian #Diocletian’s Palace #Archaeologists Discovered Large Roman Baths Under Museum in Croatia #Split Croatia #Split City Museum #roman baths #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire #roman emperor

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.74 San Sequoia dreaming

Dub was such a blast to hang out with, and I really wished we could have spent more time together, swapping stories and figuring out our lives. But eventually, he had to leave and meet Maia to catch their train. It made me really happy when he said he wanted to stay in touch. I was planning to ask him, but he beat me to it, and I was stoked to finally have a new friend. When I got home, Sophia asked where I'd come from all suited up, and I told her about meeting Dub. Needless, she was thrilled to hear about my new friend. That night, as I lay beside her, the memories of the afternoon replayed in my mind, from the tour to our conversations. At that moment, I recognized what I need to do. Or rather, how I needed to do it. I hyped up San Sequoia so much, but I never actually showed it to her. How could I expect her to be on board with going to a place she had never seen? For all she knew, it could be just another sleepy little town, like Oasis Springs. We were partners, and I knew she would pack up and leave when I was ready, but I wanted her to be excited about it. I needed her enthusiasm because, without it, she could resent me later. So, the next morning, as she began to stir, I asked if she had any plans.

"I was gonna ask if you did," she said between a big yawn.

I smiled, happy to receive a green light, and moved some stray hairs away from her face.

"I do. I want to show you San Sequoia."

"Okay!"

She got up immediately and hopped into the shower. After we ate breakfast, we gathered the dogs and headed out to the Celebration Center. I was determined to be a better tour guide this time around.

"San Sequoia is a great place for families," I began. "And this neighborhood is the hub. It's called Gilbert Gardens, and I love it here."

She glanced around, taking it all in.

"It's pretty here."

"This place is like a community hangout spot. They've got something to build just about any skill you can name for all ages."

"Wow! That's so important. Is this an affluent area? You usually only see learning centers in nicer areas."

"From what I've learned, San Sequoia is a very diverse city, economically and socially. I personally have experienced the latter."

She nodded, satisfied with my answers, but the lake stole her attention.

"I just want to jump in there. I haven't been swimming in so long. My body is calling for it!"

"Swimming is allowed! And the weather is warm most of the year, so you could come here literally anytime you want."

I saw a sparkle in her eyes and knew that was the moment she saw herself in San Sequoia. My tour was successful, and she hadn't seen the best parts yet, so I kept going.

"That's the spa I told you about over there. They've got everything and-"

"Oh look at this," she shouted in the middle of my sentence. "This is the cutest, biggest splash park I've ever seen! We've gotta bring our kids here!"

That last part made me feel all warm inside, but I didn't want to give myself away yet, so I demoted my smile to a slight smirk.

"We will."

We walked around the lake, and I told her about the track. And of course I took her to the Arboretum and told her of the trail. I could tell she was eager for more, but we had another place to go. Next, we headed to what I hoped would become our new neighborhood. We strolled leisurely through the streets, hand in hand, looking at houses, making sure our dogs didn't wander too far. The back of the neighborhood, where the Michaels' lived, ended at the water. The closer we got, the faint smell of salt in the air got stronger. Like many cities, San Sequoia had its signature architecture, and many of the houses looked the same. But each one had its own unique characteristic, whether it was a garden or a cozy porch or even tacky stuff in the yard. All the homes comprised the tight-knit community I longed to be part of again.

"This is Hopewell Hills, my old neighborhood."

"That's a nice name. I see why you love it here so much. It's so quiet!"

I grinned in pride for San Sequoia never disappointed. As we rounded the corner, the salty tang of the ocean permeated the air, and my heart began to race because it was almost showtime. I wasn't nervous at all, but my excitement ate me up inside. With our destination just steps away, I created a diversion to set up my production. I slowed my pace and walked toward the marina, which had the most magnificent, unobstructed view of the bridge.

"This is my favorite spot in the neighborhood," I said.

The bridge stood there, tall and majestic, proclaiming to all who gazed upon it, "THIS is San Sequoia!"

"Woooow! It looks so close, like you could swim to it," she said.

"You can't get any closer without being in Anchorpoint Wharf."

I casually turned around to face the house we'd been standing in front of.

"I love this house, too. I ran by here every day, imagining what it would be like to live there and watch the sky change colors at sunset on the porch."

"That sounds amazing. And this house is beautiful, Luca. Is it empty?"

"Sure is."

She left me to walk around and peek in the windows. I watched her for a little while, hoping she saw something she liked.

"I want to buy this house," I confessed finally.

She ceased her exploration and came back to me with a look of concern.

"It's so big! Can we afford it?"

I guess after living in a tiny house for as long as she did, most houses seemed large to her. To me, it was the perfect size, with no wasted rooms or cramped spaces.

"Probably not," I replied. "But we can figure it out....make a plan."

Worry still radiated off her face, but that's just how she rolled.

"But...can your SimTube money really handle this?"

I grabbed her hands.

"It might take some time, but I think we can do it. Whatever it takes, I'll figure it out. One day, it'll be me and you sitting on the porch watching the sunset. I'll build get my dad to build that treehouse for our kids. Rosie will run around this neighborhood and Kooper will chill on the porch watching her."

She laughed, but her eyes began to water.

"Ha ha! I think that's what they're doing now. Gosh, Luca! You're an excellent salesman! I want all of that right now!"

"I do too. That's really why I brought you here today. I love you, Sophia. I've loved you for a really long time, whether or not I knew it. You're the only woman who could get me to this point. And you're the only woman I'd want any of that with. We've been tiptoeing around marriage and starting a family. It's something you've been wanting and waiting for. And I just want you to know...I want it too. All of it. And I'm ready and want to give it to you. Sophia, will you marry me?"

"OH MY WATCHER! OH MY WATCHER!!!"

I wished I could snapshot that moment. She was so adorably shocked. It amazed me that she didn't catch on, but I was delighted to see her sincerely surprised.

"YES!!!! Of course I will!! Oh, Lucaaaa!!"

The ring dazzled her immediately after she took it and put it on. I was so happy she liked it because I knew nothing about jewelry and didn't ask for help. But as soon as I laid eyes on it, I knew it was the perfect one.

"Awwwww it's a heart-shaped diamond! It's so beautiful!"

"We're getting married, Luca!!"

"I can't wait."

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar #rosie #kooper

[dimity-lawn]

Galentine's Day on The Disc

Cheery and Angua hanging out (and possibly Angua getting dragged to Shatta’s)

Covens either making plans to meet and everyone getting too busy to actually do so or everyone planning on being too busy to meet but actually meeting once some local families offer up some food

Dwarf women excitedly celebrating the holiday

Some dwarfs celebrating an "unknown" holiday

Other dwarfs confusedly celebrating an unknown holiday that seems to happen at the same time each year, even if they genuinely haven’t a clue what it’s about

Shatta’s becoming a popular meeting place amongst the more affluent dwarf women, and always ending the holiday with considerably more gold

At the Post Office Ladies' Luncheon, sandwiches are happily provided by Gladys and politely declined by everyone else

Once the (senior) wizards notice that the maids are gathering (it takes them a few years to recognize the pattern), they are torn between being Definitely Not The Least Bit Concerned That The Women Are Gathering, glad that the Silly Women are Keeping Out Of Their Way, and the fear that this Nonsense may mean that meals and snacks will be late

Every year Bana and Netal each receive a card from “Betti”, who has apparently moved to Ankh-Morpork

#discworld #gnu terry pratchett #holiday #galentines day #thought(s) from yours truly #the watch #cheery littlebottom #cheery #cheri littlebottom #cheri #dwarf #angua #angua von uberwald #werewolf #gladys #golem #going postal #making money #ankh morpork post office #unseen university #unseen university staff #wizards #witches #food/drink #ankh morpork #nobby nobbs #jingo #unseen academicals

[velvet4510]

Ok here’s a whole essay’s worth of headcanons about some of the LOTR main characters’ lives in the Fourth Age, particularly their children.

(note: some of these names and marriages I’ve invented, and some I’ve borrowed from Elenya54’s phenomenal fics “All That I Had” and “The Gift of Ilúvatar,” which have many elements that I’ve absorbed into my hc, including Frodo leaving letters for Sam & Elanor and jewelry for Rosie, as well as Legolas ending up with Frodo’s healer’s daughter. Elanor & Fastred’s historian work is mentioned in Tolkien’s appendices. Frodo-lad’s love of dwarves and Rosie-lass’ love of the Entwives are taken from Tolkien’s unpublished epilogue.)

All dates in Shire Reckoning.

Frodo wrote Sam a love letter before he left, which Sam carried in his waistcoat pocket close to his heart every day.

Frodo left a letter for Elanor to read when she was older, letting her know how much he loved her and how sorry he was that he could not be there to watch her grow; he signed the letter “your Frodo-dad,” to which Rosie referred to him as she firmly felt that her daughter had two fathers in her life before Frodo had to leave. This is why Elanor called her father “Sam-dad” all her life.

Frodo left Rosie a set of freshly-polished jewelry (necklace, earrings, and bracelet) that once belonged to his mother Primula. Rosie always cherished these trinkets and wore them to every formal event she ever attended; she lent them to Elanor to wear at her wedding to Fastred.

Sam & Rosie’s entire family adopted the Gardner surname in the year 1424.

Sam taught all his children to read and write in both Westron and Sindarin. He was known as “the People’s Mayor,” as he helped the rich and poor alike. He came to know everyone in Hobbiton, regardless of class, on a first-name basis. He advocated for literacy in the entirety of the Shire, and his agenda ultimately modernized the Shire and created new opportunities for education, including the land’s first-ever public school in Michel Delving. He managed to change many conservative minds who used to not believe in the importance of reading by emphasizing how he only was able to accomplish what he did because of the knowledge he gained from Bilbo Baggins. He also personally planted many public and private gardens in the Shire, including a memorial garden for Frodo in the Party Field; his continuation of manual labor despite his affluent position went a long way in weaking the previously strict Shire social class system.

The efforts to rebuild after the Scouring, combined with Sam’s rise from lowly gardener to Master of Bag End and Mayor, shook up the class system. Many formerly upper- and middle-class families who had lost big chunks of their fortunes in repairing the Ruffians’ damage turned to manual labor to help the work move faster. It was a humbling experience for many, and the working class gained more respect than it’d ever had before. Sam’s brothers and cousins had their hands full taking on apprentices to learn their skills and help out. As a result, the Fourth Age saw more employment for hobbits than ever before; the bourgeois lifestyle became far less common.

Rosie became a leader in her own right, helping all the poorer hobbits in one way or another. She threw many parties at Bag End, including an annual celebration on September 22nd in honor of Bilbo and Frodo. Having been taught to read and write by Sam as a child (who passed on Bilbo’s lessons to her curious mind), she set her husband’s educational goals into motion by becoming a part-time tutor for hobbit children once her own children were older and in less need of her constant care. Many of the hobbits she tutored went on to become schoolteachers. She became extremely popular and respected, and when she died, a major party was thrown in her honor that went down in Shire history alongside Bilbo’s famous party.

Legolas and Gimli paid visits to the Shire as often as they could.

Elanor was a lifelong bibliophile and linguist. While working for Queen Arwen, she became fluent in Sindarin and translated many Elvish texts in the library. She was far more interested in the Elvish language and culture than any of her siblings. Besides Elfstan and Fíriel, she and Fastred also had 4 other children: Frodo, Astred, Arwen, and Rosemary. The couple led the Westmarch community together, doing a lot of impactful philanthropic work, and created an extensive library filled with historical records of the Shire, as well as Elves and Men, all the information that Elanor could compile while working in Gondor. Elanor also was struck with many dreams throughout her life of events in the Red Book, as she vividly imagined all the descriptions she heard and read so many times. A natural empath, she developed a deep understanding of Frodo’s suffering post-quest - mainly because of the personal connection she felt with him through his letter to her - and wrote several volumes of original poetry in both Westron and Sindarin, inspired by her two fathers. She became a beloved celebrity in the Shire, and eventually throughout Middle-earth when the Queen requested and published a copy of her work (with her permission). She, her husband, and their children continued to visit Gondor through the years and maintained a lifelong friendship with the royal family. Elanor eventually surpassed Bilbo Baggins as the oldest-lived hobbit in Middle-earth history, living to the age of 133.

Frodo-lad shared his father’s deep passion for gardening and they worked together on the flowers and vegetables at Bag End every day. He often teamed up with Elanor, his best friend as well as his sister, to help their parents manage their younger siblings growing up. He developed a love of Dwarves after reading about them in the Red Book; Gimli once created and gifted to him a harmless toy dwarf axe for his birthday. He was as skilled a scholar as Elanor, but didn’t enjoy it as much as she did, preferring the outdoors. However, he did help her with her research on Shire history for her library and eventually wrote his own book on gardening. He later married a hobbit lass named Violet, who hailed from the Bunce family. Besides Holfast, they had 3 other children: Heather, Wilfred, and Lavender. Frodo eventually became Mayor after his father retired and inherited Bag End when his father left the Shire. By this time, enough residents of Hobbiton had learned to read to enable him to open the town’s first-ever public library, which included copies of his own gardening book. The title of Mayor was later taken up by Holfast after his own retirement, and then later by Holfast’s son Harding of the Hill.

Rosie-lass was an in-demand artist who sketched and painted illustrations for the Red Book as well as portraits and landscapes which were given away as mathoms. The walls of Bag End were covered with her art. Framed in her and her sisters’ bedroom was her favorite creation: a drawing of a fantasy in which she found the lost Entwives. She later married Fredegar Bolger’s son Rudecar and they had 7 children.

Young Merry eventually took over operation of the mill formerly owned by the Sandymans and purchased by Frodo after the Scouring. He married Robin Smallburrow’s daughter Hazel and they had 3 children.

Young Pippin became a skilled furniture maker and married one of Fredegar Bolger’s daughters, Jessaminta. They had 5 children.

(The mother of Fredegar Bolger’s children was his wife Angelica Baggins, the last of the Baggins bloodline. Sam and Rosie were thrilled that their family was united with one of Baggins descent via Rosie-lass and Pippin’s marriages.)

As per canon, Goldilocks married Pippin Took’s son Faramir. They had 6 children and eventually became the heads of the Took family. Goldilocks loved to cook with her mother as a child and later insisted on helping the cooks at the Great Smials hands-on with preparing meals, class system be buggered. She and her husband made sure to pass this egalitarian mindset onto their children.

Hamfast loved the story of the Ents so much that he dedicated his life to forestry. He married Malva, who hailed from the Burrows family, and they had 3 children.

Daisy inherited her father’s knack for songwriting and composed many tunes which she eagerly performed at parties. She sang at all her siblings’ weddings. She herself married and had 4 children with Merry’s son Théodoc.

Primrose, a tomboy all the way, inherited her father’s talent with knots and became Hobbiton’s exclusive roper, alongside her cousin Anson’s latest apprentice, Nico Goodbody; they married and had 3 children.

Bilbo enjoyed a simple life working for the Quick Post and co-owning a bakery with his wife Azalea Hayward (daughter of Shirriff Hob), with whom he had 2 daughters.

Ruby became fascinated with medicine and eventually took on a career as a midwife. She was deeply moved by Frodo’s words in the Red Book about cherishing the beloved land that was saved by him and her father, and she took it upon herself to help bring the next generation of hobbits into the world to honor his wishes. She eventually married and had 5 children with Pippin’s son Beregond.

Robin followed in his namesake’s footsteps and became a Shirriff. He married Merry’s daughter Éowyn and they raised their 4 children in Frodo’s former residence at Crickhollow.

Tom became a merchant, traveling constantly between Gondor and the Shire. He never married but had a lifelong partnership with Pippin’s youngest son Beren. The two of them looked after the old hobbit in his final years in Minas Tirith, as he needed walking sticks to help him move due to lasting effects of troll-inflicted wounds. They shared their luxurious house with Pippin until his eventual death at age 106, two years after Merry had succumbed to a long illness in Pippin’s arms at age 112. Tom himself became quite an adventurer, retracing the Fellowship’s steps and sightseeing all of the quest’s locations with Beren. They both eventually rose in esteem to become advisors to the king.

Many times, but even more so in his later years, Sam had dreams of the Sea.

All of the children moved out of Bag End when they married, except Frodo-lad, who raised his own family in Bag End while also looking after his aging parents.

When Rosie fell ill for the last time, Sam and Frodo-lad summoned all 12 of Frodo’s siblings to Bag End, and they all were present in their mother’s last moments. On her deathbed, Rosie bequeathed Primula’s jewelry to Elanor.

Before sailing West, Sam showed Frodo’s love letter to Tom, Beren, and later Elanor. Although he never saw the letter, Frodo-lad also sensed his father’s true feelings for his namesake. They were the only members of their generation to be aware of Frodo & Sam’s secret romance; they honored Sam’s wish that this detail be kept private and left out of all records.

Elanor, Fastred, Frodo-lad, Goldilocks, Faramir, and Pearl all collaborated on the creation of the Thain’s Book, mainly working on it in the two years between Elanor’s inheriting of the original book and Pippin’s impending departure, which he was already considering and discussing with his family even before Éomer wrote to Merry.

When Sam sailed, he took with him several flower seed packets to plant in the West, a stash of Old Toby, letters for Frodo from the rest of the Fellowship (updating him on their lives and families), and a book of Elanor’s poetry which she intended as a present for Frodo. He also was given a small trinket from each of his children, which he kept and cherished as mementos of them. He left the Star of the Dúnedain and Sting to Frodo-lad, and both became cherished Gardner family heirlooms.

Sam happily reunited with Frodo on Tol Eressëa. Since time passed differently there, Frodo had not aged. Sam’s physical youth was gradually restored by the island’s rejuvenating energy, as was Bilbo’s. The couple lived happily together in a hobbit hole which Frodo had built for Sam.

In his time on the island, besides being fully healed by the combined efforts of Gandalf, Elrond, a Vanya healer, and Nienna herself, Frodo became good friends with Celebrían, as they understood each other’s similar reasons for sailing West. He became a gardener, realizing how much knowledge he absorbed from Sam through the years, and helped tend to many Elves’ private gardens as well as his own, and also became fluent in Quenya as a necessity for communication.

When Sam had settled in, Frodo taught him to speak Quenya and to swim.

Bilbo eventually chose to lay down his life after leaving nothing unsaid between him and the younger hobbits. However, Frodo and Sam continued on, and were still living when Legolas and Gimli finally arrived. They and Gandalf enjoyed many happy times together, especially at the beach, and reminisced about their lost friends.

When the hobbits finally accepted their mortality together, lying in each other’s arms after saying all their goodbyes, their bodies were laid side-by-side and housed with Bilbo’s body in a permanent memorial for them in Avalloné. They left all of their possessions to be placed within a historical museum on Eressëa, containing artifacts from all the ages of the world.

Pippin & Diamond were friends since tweenhood, but only saw each other in a platonic light for many years, and Pippin had some fun flirting with and trying to impress lasses when he returned from the Quest. An avid reader, Diamond was fascinated by the stories of what happened to him. But she was also an unusually empathetic and insightful hobbit, and she could sense that not all of Pippin’s adventures were fun, and that he had some lingering trauma. She became his safe space to talk to, and they quickly fell in love. As Tolkien put in canon, they finally married in 1427 (when Diamond was 32 and not even of age yet, as they couldn’t wait any longer) and the heir to the Thainship was their son Faramir, born in 1430, who later married Goldilocks. Here’s my version of the rest of their family:

Faramir took after Diamond more than Pippin. He had his sense of humor but had a sense of responsibility much earlier on in life and grew to be a fine leader in his own right, long before becoming Thain. He bonded closely with his namesake during a year-long visit to Gondor in which he served as a page to the King. He overcame Goldilocks’ shyness toward boys via their lifelong friendship from childhood that blossomed into more in their tweens.

Once Faramir was born, Pippin & Diamond realized that they loved parenting and wanted a big family, not unlike Sam & Rosie. They wanted to take on the adventure together and they did. Diamond wanted all her children to have special unconventional names and encouraged Pippin to borrow names of people he met on his quest and who he’d read about. Pippin agreed as long as his wife agreed to allow herself her own honor by naming all their daughters after jewels like her. They visited Gondor together often.

Their 1st daughter Pearl was born in 1433. An introvert, she preferred to read and draw than go to parties. A natural scholar like her mother, she was responsible for the cultivation of the Great Smials’ library, collecting and writing much of the history of Gondor, helped largely by her youngest brother’s frequent travels to the kingdom. She eventually married into the Goodbody family to Elio, brother of Nico (who married Primrose Gardner). They had 2 children.

2nd son Boromir was born in 1436. He helped his older brother keep their younger siblings in check. He initially in his youth felt hurt that he was named after the man who tried to steal the Ring, but as he grew older and came to understand the full story better, he came to deeply admire and respect his namesake. He opened a law firm alongside his best friend Estel Brandybuck, and married Fredegar Bolger’s youngest daughter, Miramunda; they had 7 children.

3rd son Beregond was born in 1438. He worked as an auctioneer and married Sam & Rosie’s daughter Ruby. See above.

Twins Bergil (boy) and Opal (girl) were born in 1440.

Bergil followed in his grandfather Paladin’s footsteps and made a living from farming the fertile earth of Tuckborough. His sister-in-law Goldilocks was helpful in this endeavor, as she arranged for him to gain experience in his youth by helping her mother’s family, the Cottons, at their own farm for a year. He married and had 3 children with Lydia Hornblower.

Opal founded the Shire’s first theatrical company and wrote many plays that retold the full story of the Fellowship. It was her plays that enlightened the rest of the Shire regarding the extent of Frodo Baggins’ sacrifice, and his reputation vastly improved as much of the population finally understood his heroism. Opal married into the Grubb family to a lad named Aldo, and they also had 3 children.

When she heard the story of Beren and Lúthien for the first time while pregnant with Emerald, Diamond loved it so much that she insisted they name their next boy after Beren.

3rd daughter Emerald was born in 1443, named in honor of her great-aunt Esmeralda Brandybuck. She married into the Burrows family to Marco, brother of Malva (who married Hamfast Gardner). They opened an affluent restaurant together near the Three-Farthing Stone, which blended Shire cuisine with those of Gondor and Rohan via recipes collected by Emerald’s father and “Uncle Merry”. They also had 2 children.

5th son and youngest child, Beren, was born in 1446. He never married but had a romantic life partner in Sam & Rosie’s son Tom, with whom he worked as a merchant. See above.

After many happy years, Diamond died at age 86 in 1481, six months before Rosie’s passing. She held on until she heard the news that her youngest grandchild had been born safely earlier that day.

Estella pursued Merry for many years until she finally won him over. They married the same year that Faramir Took was born, and decided they wanted a smaller family than the Gardners and the Tooks. They ultimately had 4 children:

1st son Théodoc was born in 1432. Merry knew he wanted to name his firstborn after his late king; Estella agreed, admiring the king greatly from her husband’s stories, but wanted to continue the tradition of giving the future Master a name ending in “-doc.” This was their compromise. Théodoc was a born scholar like his father and helped him put together his book on old words and names. He later married Sam & Rosie’s daughter Daisy; they became the Master and Mistress of Buckland when Merry left the Shire for the last time.

2nd son Estel was born in 1436. His parents were amazed at how perfectly the name worked as a tribute to both Aragorn and to Estella herself. Estel was a mama’s boy and never minded his name’s resemblance to hers, even before making the thrilling discovery that he was also named for a king. He opened a law firm with his best friend Boromir. On a family trip to Bree, Estel met a real Underhill, named Sarafina; they instantly fell in love and he brought her home to Buckland as his bride. They bore 3 children.

1st daughter Éowyn was born in 1439. She worshipped and maintained a lifelong friendship with her namesake, who sent her birthday presents every year, and in whose footsteps she followed by becoming the Shire’s most reliable healer. She also helped her father gather research for his herblore books, and gained much knowledge of herbal medicines from this project. She later married Sam & Rosie’s son Robin; they first got together when Tom & Beren played matchmaker.

2nd daughter Athela was born in 1441, named after Athelas in honor of her father’s love of herbs and her mother’s appreciation for the specific herb that saved her father’s life. She married into the Goldworthy family and had 3 children with her husband Fabian. She shared her sister’s passion for independent thinking and eventually became a teacher at the Shire’s first public school.

Merry was the first of the Travellers to be widowed, as Estella passed in 1480 at age 95. The following year, Athela named her newborn 3rd child after her mother.

As Tolkien wrote, Aragorn & Arwen’s firstborn was Eldarion, born in 1422, who eventually succeeded his father as king and created a long-lasting dynasty. According to me, Eldarion was followed by three younger sisters:

Idril was born in 1425. She remained in close touch with her Elvish roots and arranged for the history of Elves and Men to be taught in all of Gondor’s schools. It was for her and her sister’s sake that her parents were inspired to issue a law requiring girls to be educated as well as boys. She later married Elboron, son of Faramir & Eowyn (b. 1424), and they became Prince and Princess of Ithilien after Elboron’s parents’ deaths, and helped Legolas restore the land to its former glory. Their son Barahir wrote The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen (Tolkien canon).

Twins Celebrían and Gilraen were born in 1429.

Celebrían was a linguist and expert diplomat and helped her father with peace talks among the Southern and Eastern lands, made easier when she became fluent in the languages spoken by the Haradrim. She was close friends with Elanor, as they shared a passion for learning languages.

Gilraen was a tomboy who joined the remaining Rangers of the North in patrolling the woodlands of Arnor, eventually marrying a fellow Ranger.

All four of Aragorn & Arwen’s children were raised bilingual in Westron and Sindarin. The Sindarin language became common in Gondor once again, and was taught in schools.

Eldarion oversaw the restoration of Osgiliath alongside his father.

Aragorn also arranged for absolute premogeniture in the Reunited Kingdom’s line of succession, echoing the similar policy of Númenor.

Two centuries later, Eldarion’s firstborn, Silmariën, became the first Ruling Queen (regnant) of Gondor. Her younger sister was Nimloth.

Also, in Ithilien:

Besides Elboron, Faramir & Éowyn had a daughter, Elwyn (b. 1427), who became a healer like her mother. She exchanged much information with her close friends from the Shire, the hobbits Ruby Gardner and Éowyn Brandybuck.

As for Legolas and Gimli:

Gimli was gray and aged when he and Legolas sailed West, but had a few steps left in him.

On his last journey, Legolas took with him letters for Sam from his surviving children, all of whom he had stayed in touch with through the years (especially Elanor and Tom), as well as his own copy of the Red Book in Quenya, which he’d made himself in Gondor from the Thain’s Book, in order to keep the details of the story recorded for the populace of Valinor.

They were thrilled to reunite with the hobbits on Eressëa, having hoped they’d still be alive.

Gimli bonded with the Elves who specialized in mining and delving on the island, and eventually learned Quenya.

Legolas fell in love with Laurëalotë, a Vanya resident of Tol Eressëa and the daughter of Frodo’s healer.

Gimli, being 260 years old when he sailed, ultimately lived to the age of 330.

Many years after the hobbits and Gimli had finally passed on, Legolas married Laurëalotë and they had two daughters, Malinalda and Altáriel, and a son, Elessar. They settled on the island and often visited the permanent memorial built in honor of their late friends.

Gandalf sailed on to settle in Valinor. His reward from the Valar for his deeds was to travel freely among the Blessed Realm whenever he pleased, no longer bound to be a servant. Thus, he often visited Legolas and the memorials on the nearby island.

Legolas’ copy of the Red Book became the most cherished item in his household, as he read the story to his wife, daughters, and grandchildren, and kept it alive forever.

For the rest of time, Gandalf and Legolas personally reminisced about the Fellowship, and their memories of and love for their friends never faded.

The Last Ship sailed from the Grey Havens in the year 201 of the Fourth Age. Among those onboard were Círdan, Celeborn, Elladan, Elrohir, and one Elf who had long served his repentance through many lonely millennia in Middle-Earth and was at last granted passage back to his homeland: Maglor.

#lotr #lotr headcanons #lord of the rings #samwise gamgee #rosie cotton #pippin took #merry brandybuck #aragorn #faramir #eowyn #eldarion #elboron #elanor gardner #estella bolger #diamond of long cleeve #samfro #frodo x sam #frodo x sam x rosie #maglor #cirdan #celeborn #elladan and elrohir #fourth age #arwen undomiel #farawyn #frodo baggins #bilbo baggins #legolas #gimli #valinor

[shellxrls]

i was listening to my old 2015 playlist today and idk if you’ve ever listened to Hypnotic by Zella Day… but the first chorus is sooo young! snow coded once he’s powerful and affluent… knotting up his suit tie for him before an event… him having reader’s picture in his wallet… argh

oh my god this bought up so many memories for me anon YOU DONT EVEN KNOWWW. i had such a big zella day phase hundreds of years ago (an exaggeration, but still valid bc i was truly such a different person) and hearing this song again, and just this album rlly tugged at my heartstrings 😕😕.

BUT YOU ARE SO RIGHT!!

I wanna be on the front line, knotted up suit ties Talking like a headstrong mamma Got a picture in your wallet

the song is definitely super young!snow coded god. i can see him looking at the pic of you in his wallet & smirking as he finishes knotting his tie, thinking about how he’ll celebrate his day (he always has a good day bc no one has enough power to disagree with him) with you on your knees for him.

even the way zella sings sort of exudes an aura of power and it’s truly so entrancing, rlly reminds me of young!snow.

#thank you so much for this anon!! #not only a perfect song for snow but it sent me so far down memory lane god #asks.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹 #;anon #;song recs #coriolanus snow #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader smut

[foolshoujo]

&& with a sigh & a hand on her heart, orpheus looks upward toward ouranos --- the beautiful sky overhead, a dazzling blue only broken by the flight of white birds & a clock tower that seems to stretch upward beyond the heavens.

#MAIN. ( FILE MR03. / SAKURA PETALS FALLING LIKE RAINDROPS - vOHSHC. )

lineage counts first; wealth a close second. the motto of o/uran academy, an illustrious school for those of the affluent. the children of politicians, businessmen, socialites, & celebrities all attending from grades that span from pre-school to even college. such budding little flowers cared for by the facility that holds the tasks of preparing these fledglings to grow into their wings & fly toward their future--- as well as provide various outlets of entertainment, leisure, & perhaps a waste of their free time. aris/ato mi/nato & min/ako are second years that have attended the school since their kindergarten days. the children of the living legends aris/ato kenta & hisako; a skilled orchestral conductor & a multilingual opera soprano, respectfully. while the pair continue to globally travel & perform their arts, they have also found themselves to be common among the social elite spanning the globe. enrapturing the rich, the famous, the many, the poor, the old with their talents & song. their biggest pride & joy being their children, the two who seem to harbor the same gift of music as their parents. mi/nato is hailed as a musical savant, able to learn with ease any instrument one places before him, writing new pieces & performing them at a young age. min/ako follows in the footsteps of her mother, her voice naturally siren-esc & talents honed by vocal tutors, choirs, & years upon years of practice. within their freshman year of high school the two take a sabbatical from the academy to journey with their mother to the southern region of france within the french riviera, théoule sur mer. hisako having to retreat from the public eye due to her sudden failing health. the twins believing that going with their mother was both what was best for the family as well as for their beloved mother convince their father to allow them to take the break from their education & join the two of them. for a year the family lives within this resort town until hisako is cleared to be able to return home--- && in doing so the twins make their return the same year a particularly interesting scholarship attendee joins in their freshman year....

DETAILS & QUICK FACTS;

the twins are in class b--- affluent but not the top 1%. they are the same age as h/oney & m/ori, however due to pausing their education they are a year delayed making them second years vs third years. despite being away for a year the two are quite popular across grades & classes, often hanging out with various folks outside of their homeroom + social classing. many people speak fondly of the two & tend to seek them out if they are nearby. this is generally to allude to their in canon ability to create social links with people of all walks of life in p3/p & how they are easily able to touch the hearts of others. they are protags after all LOL.

regarding this, min/ato who tends to avoid musical clubs & focuses on kendo extracurriculars tends to be the more reclusive of the two due to his own battle with low social stamina. he is on course to be next captain of the kendo club once mori/nozuka graduates & acts a co-captain to help lessen the load to allow the aforementioned to attend the host club freely. this is the only connection the twins will have with the main cast of ohshc in this verse outside of future/potential interactions within the linked rpc.

on mina/ko's side, she is known as the idol of ou/ran. the moniker gained from her bubbly & friendly personality, knack for accidentally becoming the center of attention, & obviously her talent as a songstress. before the year abroad she was in gymnastics, choir, & dance extracurricular however after the twins return she tends to favor only choir & dedicates more time within student council at the behest of ki/rijo mi/tsuru, student council president valedictorian & heir to the enormous k/irijo group. mits/uru replaces the canonical to ohshc tosh/iyori in this verse, the accolades mentioned are ones carried from p3/p to this verse as well. though tos/hiyori serves as vice president, kana/n retains her status as secretary but hid/etoshi & chid/ori from p3/p are added as head of the disciplinary committee & treasurer to buff out the council as a whole. mina/ko holds a role of little importance, tending to the council's needs either for filing or gathering paperwork, getting drinks, cleaning, & organizing events or helping with. she's their little gopher.

speaking of mits/uru, the various members of SEES or other social links like rio or bebe are present in this verse in similar roles & are all as close as they are in canon. yuk/ari is the daughter of both an actress & head researcher within kiri/jo, jun/pei is the son of a baseball player, fu/uka's family works within the oot/ori medical hospitals in various fields, ak/ihiko the captain of the boxing team, shi/njiro son of a chef, k/en idk but he's there too. aig/is is a human idk man but you get it. the idiots are pals no matter the universe♥

while i won't carry over a lot of the incredibly dated outlooks that this media has, i am playing with gender roles in terms of the difficulties women face proving themselves within a patriarchal society especially among the one percent. in short, mi/nato will have zero issues in his life as he is both the son & technical first born where mina/ko as a woman is, despite her equal talents & a prodigy just like her brother, faced with having to maneuver her way into the same spaces. while their parents are never outright in these mindsets, min/ato does have some noted favoritism from them as well as those within his parents sphere of influence. this is the drive behind min/ako pushing her weight within the student council--- abusing her ability to stay near the incredibly powerful heir to the k/irijo group, mitsu/ru, & using this connection to create a web of networking. she's bright, she's smart, she's friendly. in the same way kyou/ya tends to abuse the host club & his immense talents to charm his way through hard work, research, & tbqh manipulation( positive ) of the cards in his hands to climb to the top--- m/inako is playing a similar gambit on her own. her greatest cards within her hand are the connections she's formed through the years & memorable personality. our girl is making sure her name is in your mouth ! you say hi to her as she walks through the gates of school ! you want her to sing at the party you're throwing this weekend ! you wanna tell you're very powerful parents about her :) ! while she is no short of talent on her own, she has to create a space for her to stand rather than wait for it to be offered. she will not sit down & wait for her to be forced to become some ceos wife & give up on her dreams against her will. it's her stage, you are her audience, & she will be remembered for her own merits & no one else's !

minat/o is totally in on this btw, you think he's letting his precious baby sister his twin his mirror the other half of his soul fail ? lmao. everyone loves twins, have another set of terrible twins♥

min/ako has no real desire to visit the host club. the idea behind all of this is just things that are happening alongside the various events of the series rather than something to supplement or change it for ease of rp as a whole & because the world of ohshc is very big, take this as another story being told within it's borders. however, her type would be the cool type but in situations where she attends( usually at the behest of her friends ) she tends to sit somewhat by herself & watch the club & it's guests rather than request a host to attend her. she is perfectly happy to watch people be surrounded by love ! she will tell ha/ruhi to list her name during these visits to abuse it toward their debt though.

this verse is both manga & anime compliant, however the manga was primarily in mind when creating this verse.

more can & may be added in the future !

↳ edit of min/ako within the verse banner was created with art from the ohshc manga & p3p dear girls anthology as well as drawn assets & coloring by my hand ! gif was by me as well. don't take my shit or else.

#( ooc; verse post tracker. ) #MAIN. ( FILE MR03. / SAKURA PETALS FALLING LIKE RAINDROPS - vOHSHC. ) #( ooc; do not reblog. ) #ohshc rp #PERSONALS DNI.

[hyba]

Spare a moment to help me decide?

'Tis a new calendar year, and I want to focus on one of my novels for the foreseeable future. One small problemo: I find myself struggling to decide between Murder in Heliopolis and Marie/Elise. Which one should I focus on in the coming months?

Murder in Heliopolis is a futuristic 'solarpunk' murder mystery set in the megacity of Heliopolis, where almost everything is controlled by PATET, the utopian city's all-seeing AI. When Detective Laith Alazraq begins to unravel what seems to be the first unsolvable murder in decades, he realizes that PATET isn't the helpful AI they've always considered it to be, and that perhaps there are darker forces pulling the strings behind the scenes. Unfortunately, this is one investigation he won't be able to walk away from - and one bad guy he might not be able to put away.

Marie/Elise is a psychological thriller and murder mystery set in the fictional affluent town of Blackwood, where the sprawling estates of the rich and powerful hold secrets beyond what one might imagine. When Adrian White moves to Blackwood in hopes of starting a new life with his nouveau-riche father, he thinks his only problems are in his head. When a party at the Bellerose estate turns into a crime scene, Adrian finds himself the main suspect in the murder of town darling and social media celebrity Elise Bellerose. An unlikely team of amateur detectives forms: Adrian joins forces with Marie Bellerose and Perry Baxley to find out what truly happened to the ill-fated Elise. The only problem is, each one of them suspects the other.

...You see my dilemma, yes? They're both SO FUN!!!!! I don't know which one to pick but I'm doing this thing where I don't want to jump from project to project and not actually finish any of them, so it's got to be one or the other for now.

Please help me decide before my brain does a complete 180 and decides to consider The Pirates of Sissa or The Fall of the Black Masks! Those need a full rewrite, whereas MiH and M/E are more of an edit job. I'm more likely to complete them more quickly, and if I'm being honest, I don't want to be working on a novel for too long; I really just need to finish something.

#writeblr #writing #writers #writing community #books #marie/elise #murder in heliopolis

[bittersweetarts]

The Great War - Chapter 1 (Aemond Targaryen Fanfiction)

Summary: A war is brewing, but only some know this – Camyla Peake, daughter of Lord Unwin Peake, is sent King’s Landing to wed the Hand of the King. It is a shame though, that she garners the attention of his grandsons instead.

WARNINGS: Arranged marriage with Otto Hightower, sexism. 

AO3 - Spotify Playlist 

Chapter 1: The Flowering

Camyla Peake was not opposed to the prospect of being betrothed to an older man, but Lord Otto Hightower was a little older than she would have preferred.

Not that it mattered to Camyla’s father, Lord Unwin Peake, whose ambition overshadowed any fatherly concern he may have towards a child; let alone a daughter, because what utility did daughters have outside of marriage and childrearing.

It did not help that Camyla was also old by Westerosi standards, and Lord Unwin Peake had openly resented his daughter for not being wed. Most of the girls Camyla grew up with have long started families and fulfilled their duties. The Head of House Peake often moaned, usually over dinner and wine, that he regretted not arranging her betrothal when she was a child, and had long already arranged a betrothal for Myrielle, Camyla’s younger sister. Myrielle had yet to celebrate her seventh nameday.

Unfortunately for Camyla though, most considered the girl to be barren, until she finally bled for the first time, a few moons before her twentieth name day. It was a miracle really, and when the maids at Starpike Castle discovered the young noblewoman in bed, clutching her sheets, attempting to conceal her flowering. These maids went to Lord Peake right away, to inform him of this, despite Camyla’s begging. An ambitiously cunning man, Lord Unwin Peake set out right away to arrange an advantageous match for his eldest living daughter, and this sadly did not surprise the young woman in the slightest.

What Camyla Peake least likes about herself is how much she takes after her father. Like her siblings, Camyla takes after him physically, with abundantly ash hair and dull gray-brown eyes. Unlike her brothers and sisters though, Camyla was clever and shrewd, like her father. She was not always like this though.

When Camyla was young, she thought herself to be a princess. Her father, an affluent lord, was not affectionate, but her mother, Lady Amyra Tyrell, had compensated for this, bathing her children in love, and impressing upon them their value. Her elder siblings, Titus and Taliya, used to be her playmates, and together, they pretended to rule an imaginary Eighth Kingdom, which was unseen to the common eye; Titus was the gallant King, Taliya was his benevolent Queen, and Camyla was the Princess which their common folk adored. There were no dragons or mean fathers in their Kingdom, and it was Camyla’s favourite place in the realm. Too quickly though, these games became too childish for her siblings, who had to grow up and leave home. Titus was sent to serve their grandsire Lord Redwyne, in Arbor, and Taliya was wed to one of Lord Frey’s sons.

Camyla still lived in her fantasies though, and remained tender hearted. Though her siblings stopped playing, Camyla never did when she was younger, and would imagine countless tales which took place in their imaginary world.

But when their mother had died giving birth to her youngest sister, Myrielle, Camyla became changed. Ten and three, Camyla had to learn to take care of her babe sister, for her father did not.

And when Taliya died giving birth to her first child, while still a girl herself, a part of Camyla died as well. This was when Camyla changed, and as the years passed, Camyla grew to become more like her father, which is why she was not shocked when her father, mere days after her flowering, hastily declared during their supper.

“The Hand of the King. That is who you are to impress when you leave for King’s Landing on the morrow. For your own sake, you should secure this betrothal, for you will not have a home here no more. I have cared for you long enough.”

And that was it. It only took some blood for Camyla Peake’s life to be completely changed. As her father demanded, Camyla spoke her farewells to her younger sister and home at Starpike, and departed on her weeks-long journey, leaving with only what could fit in a carriage and the stern Septa Maris, who would watch over her conduct at the Red Keep (and inevitably report her every movement to her father). Camyla expected sadness to consume her, for she was leaving the only place she had ever known, home not only to her, but to the memories of her mother and older sister; but no sorrow took hold. Camyla only felt empty.

It was not easy to astound Aemond Targaryen, but when his brother, Aegon, declared one afternoon that their grandsire was about to wed a girl half their mother’s age, Aemond Targaryen was truly astounded. Surely this could not be true, because why would the wise Lord Otto Hightower betroth himself now, especially to a girl younger than some of his grandchildren?

No. The one-eyed Prince could not believe it, it must be a malignant lie. His grandsire would not get betrothed for companionship; that was what whores were for, Aemond heard him say once. No, his grandsire would not bind himself to a girl, but rather to her House. But marrying a girl so young, at his age, was a shocking notion, and Aemond could not be the only one astounded by this. It must be a misunderstanding.

But Aegon declared it to be true, and jovially asked the Hand about it over supper the very same evening, in the presence of their mother, the Queen Alicent, and their father, the King Viserys Targaryen.

“It is true.” Lord Otto Hightower answered plainly. Aemond immediately noticed how his mother was silent and did not touch her food, and he noticed how his father appeared rather pleased that evening, weakly raising his goblet while coughing.

“Congratulations, friend. What House does the blessed woman hail from? And when is the wedding to be? We must host a tourney and have a grand feast. It has been long since joy has been spread in these halls.”

Helaena had given birth to Maelor only a few moons ago. Bitterly thought Aemond.

“Thank you, your Grace.” His grandsire tightly smiled at his father, taking a sip of his wine before answering. “It is Lord Peake’s eldest daughter, and as we speak, she should be journeying to us from the Reach. I am to meet her first, to decide whether she would be a suitable wife.”

“What could be wrong with Lord Unwin’s daughter?” Queen Alicent finally spoke, her speech devoid of emotion. Aemond’s eye was still helplessly fixed on his mother; he felt like he was the only one that cared for her behalf and hated that it was so.

Clearing his throat, the Hand answered his daughter awkwardly.

“She is not very young but has never been betrothed. I would like to see her defects for myself before accepting her.”

“Well, how old is the spinster?” The King asked, in a lighthearted tone, but choked on his wine as his Hand answered.

“Twenty.”

The conversation tensed, and their grandsire quickly tried to change the topic. Not very young? She is merely a year older than I am. The one-eyed Prince dubiously thought.

“How I love fresh meat at the Keep.” Aegon whispered crudely to Aemond, who ignored his brother’s insipid comment. Instead, the one-eyed Prince continued watching his mother, who he realised was picking on her nails yet again. His mother was not the only one he worried about, however. Glancing at Helaena, Aemond also contemplated whether she heard what Aegon had said, as she vacantly stared down at her plate.

“Sevens, the scent is revolting.” Camyla Peake declared, pinching her nose.

“Camyla!” Austerely chastised Septa Marris, sharply glaring at Camyla. The middle-aged woman who was not overly fond of her, as of yet. “The Seven’s name should not be said in vain!”

The carriage carrying them was slowing down now, having passed through River Gate. They were not far from the Red Keep now, but Camyla could not see anything beyond its silhouette yet.

“Apologies Septa.” Camyla responded nonchalantly, looking out the window again. The smell really was awful, but at least Blackwater Bay was a better sight. The sky was dull, despite the rising of the sun, and the waters were devoid of colour, but Camyla preferred it to staring at Septa Marris’s scowling face concentrating on her boring needlework.

The journey had taken weeks, and Septa Marris made for poor company, in Camyla’s opinion at least. To pass the time, Camyla tried reading, but it only made her nauseous, and so, with nothing to do, Camyla just sat in silence during their travels. Consequently, there was nothing to distract the brunette from her thoughts.

Camyla was not nervous about being wife to Lord Otto Hightower, for she already knew what her duties would entail: play the role of a nice little bride, and birth a child or two. Camyla also understood her fate all too well – it was to be a pawn, either at her father or soon-to-be husband’s hands. Frankly though, Camyla did not care all that much, or rather, could not be bothered to care. Though the prospect of her life in King’s Landing, being caged in a loveless marriage and the walls of the Keep, bored her, Camyla was also not interested in her father’s games. All he wanted was to make House Peake the greatest in Westeros, but what was so great about it? Most of her family were cruel, bigots, or cruel bigots, and her father was no exception. Moreover, her father did not respect her, simply because she was born without a cock between her legs, so why should she try to vie for his approval?

No, Camyla would not try, not anymore. The young woman had decided that she would not be trying to create a life with Lord Otto Hightower for her father. Should he agree to the betrothal, Camyla would try to pursue some semblance of a happy marriage, only for herself, and if that fails, then she would hopefully have at least a child who she could love. There was the concern that she would not bleed as a woman again, and that she was indeed barren, but Camyla chose to ignore this. It was an irrational fear, for no other woman in her family was barren, so why would she be the first?

Camyla also no longer wanted to return to Starpike, nor did she want to live with her unkind father. Though she missed Myrielle, Camyla did not miss Unwin Peake and the way he ‘showed love’. There was something in Camyla’s stare, defiant by nature, which seemed to infuriate Lord Peakem, and when he had a lot of wine, he would ensure that Camyla knew his fury.

King’s Landing never was where Camyla imagined her home to be, but she welcomed the notion of it. The idea of being a lady wife to an important man was appealing, and her new life at the Keep would be hers to forge. All she had to do was please Lord Otto Hightower well enough. Surely it should not be too difficult. Thought Camyla as she stared at the moving sea waters.

Upon arriving at the Red Keep, Lady Camyla Peake and Septa Marris were greeted by Lord Otto Hightower, rather indifferently, in front of a large crowd of unfamiliar faces.

Camyla did not expect warmth or affection from the Hand of the King, and was actually surprised; not by his attitude, but by his physical appearance. Camyla had expected a man bearing in resemblance to her father, in that the Hand’s countenance would be heavier and more rounded. Instead, Camyla came to meet a tall slender man with a kind face, which made her feel at ease, that is until she actually got to speak to him more directly.

Following his cold welcoming, Lord Otto Hightower practically demanded that Camyla meet him in the Gardens during the afternoon, so that they could properly speak to each other. Camyla wondered what he thought of her. She knew that she was no great beauty, with a wider figure, pale skin and darker hair, but maybe her youth was appealing to him. However, when Septa Marris proceeded to fret over her appearance the entire morning while she unpacked Camyla’s belongings in the guest quarters, Camyla became grow irritated. Why was her beauty the only quality that mattered?

“You were a mess upon arrival – How could I let you meet Lord Hightower like that!”

“It matters not.” Camyla chimed in a bored tone, staring out of the window. The view overlooked the pillars of the Keep and King’s Landing, which was intimidatingly grand. Starpike Castle scarcely compared in scale.

“Of course it matters! Lord Hightower is judging you in everything. He is Hand of the King for a reason.”

Sighing, Camyla snapped back, in a mildly irritated tone. “It matters not to me. If we do not get betrothed, it will not be the end of times, no matter how much my Lord Father tries to make us believe otherwise. I am doing as he demands, but I cannot force the hand of Fate as well.”

Again, Septa Marris chastised Camyla and ranted to her about the importance of acting agreeable and soft-spoken, especially to Lord Hightower and all who are important at King’s Landing. But Camyla quickly grew bored of the speech, and ignored Septa Marris as she began intricately plaiting her thick hair.

Eventually, a comfortable silence lulled over the quarters, and Camyla became distracted with other thoughts. She wondered about court life at the Red Keep. As far as Camyla was aware, the King’s children were the only people close to her age (disregarding anyone not of noble blood), but the young woman hoped she was wrong about this, because otherwise, her life at King’s Landing would be rather solitary and lonely, for Camyla did not expect that the Princes and Princess would be keen to befriend the young wife of their grandsire. Perhaps there were some Lords at the Keep, maybe part of the King’s Small Council, who had daughters living with them. Or perhaps the Princess has some ladies-in-waiting close to her age. Camyla could only hope.

Naturally, Camyla knew of the members of House Targaryen, as well as their reputation. Of Queen Alicent’s children, Prince Aegon, was infamous in Westeros for his unpleasantness, and shamefully indecent past times, meanwhile his sister-wife, Princess Helaena, was often described in conversation as kind, but peculiar in character. Camyla has heard little about Prince Aemond’s character or attitude, but the story of how he had lost an eye when he was little, in exchange for Vaghar, a fierce dragon that had aided in Aegon’s Conquest of Westeros, was well-known. Camyla Peake expected that Prince Aemond would bear some similarity to his older brother in character, and she knew it better to avoid both.

The only Targaryen children that Camyla did not expect to meet was Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daeron. Princess Rhaenyra, heir to the Iron Throne, is a woman grown, with her own family, and she lived away from King’s Landing. Prince Daeron, though younger than his siblings, resides in Oldtown, serving as a cupbearer and squire for Lord Ormund Hightower; at least that is what Camyla’s father had said once during dinner with guests, a few moons ago. Either way, Camyla did not expect to meet either of them tonight, which she was fine with. In fact, Camyla wished she did not have to meet anyone from House Targaryen, for none of them, if shown by history, were good companions if one valued their life.

When Camyla finally greeted Lord Otto at the Gardens, the sun was harsh and unforgiving, and the young brunette regretted Septa Marris’s choice of attire for the walk; a hugging, heavy fabric gem-coloured gown, which seemed to trap the heat. Camyla tried to keep her cool, but it was rather difficult.

“Your father and I have known each other for decades. He has never mentioned you to me before now.” The Hand stated simply, his hands clasped behind his back as he strode ahead of Camyla, who walked more slowly, lifting her gown to appear more lady-like.

“I do not why.”

Actually, Camyla did know why, but she would not make Lord Otto privy to that knowledge. Camyla’s answer did not satisfy the Hand though, who stopped walking and turned to face the young woman, his brows furrowed.

“I am going to ask you plainly, and it will be without consequence for our arrangement. You have my word. All I ask is the truth. Have you given up your chastity to another already?”

Camyla’s eyes widened, taken aback by Lord Otto’s forwardness, and immediately responded, her low voice in shame.

“Of course not.”

As she spoke, Camyla’s gaze wandered to her feet. She knew that her age would be an issue, but she did not realise that others would suppose she was unwed because she had whored herself out. Lord Otto Hightower, on the other hand, seemed satisfied in her response, perceiving it to be truthful, and continued to walk, not waiting for the young girl to follow.

“So why has Unwin not wed you off yet?”

Glancing back up, Camyla rushed to keep pace with the Hand, her sight still set to the ground.

“I cannot speak for my father. He is the one who decides on these matters.” Camyla uttered a response. She did not want to lie, but she did not want to reveal the truth to Lord Otto either. Thankfully, he did not press upon the subject anymore, and began to speak to her about his expectations (they were as Camyla anticipated: remain silent, be faithful, and to do as he says). Camyla found that her input was rarely asked, that Lord Otto preferred to speak instead of listen, and Camyla tried to not to be irritated by this. Eventually, his conversation ceased, and he turned to face her again.

“My family dines together most evenings. You are expected to attend tonight’s supper. You will be in the company of the King, my daughter and their children. Dress appropriately and behave as expected.”

Pressing her lips together, Camyla nodded, and this seemed to satisfy Lord Otto Hightower.

“At sunset, I will send for a knight, Ser Arryk, to escort you. You are to be ready by then.”

Having spent some time with Lord Otto Hightower, Camyla formed some semblance of a judgment on him. Similar to her father, Lord Otto was proud and brusque, and Camyla knew how to act around men like that. They preferred women to be quiet and unseen, and Camyla could do that just fine. But did she wish to? Camyla Peake was undecided.

Camyla also knew that Lord Otto Hightower had once been dismissed from his post as Hand, but she did not know why. Did it matter? Camyla did not foresee a close companionship with Lord Otto as her husband, and while this was disappointing, it more importantly meant that she had to look out for herself, because Lord Otto would not. He gave her no reason to trust him. While she could ensure that their betrothal did not happen, what better prospects did Camyla have?

As demanded, Camyla was ready by sunset. Septa Marris had helped get her ready again, and Camyla sat in silence as her hair was undone; it was decided that having her curled locks loose but secured away from her face would best present her features. Septa Marris had also ranted how Camyla should act during the dinner, and to be careful about what she ate, as her hips made her appear wider than most other ladies; this greatly tested Camyla patience. Septa Marris had also tried to get Camyla to profess a detailed account of her conversation with Lord Otto Hightower, but Camyla stubbornly kept her descriptions short and vague. Camyla was no idiot. She knew that Septa Marris would quickly send a letter to her imposing father detailing everything, and Camyla intended to make this difficult, simply out of spite.

After Septa Marris finished getting Camyla ready, the young woman found herself idle with nerves. The sun had long set, but no one had come to get the young woman, and Camyla had no idea where to go. When Ser Arryk finally arrived to escort Camyla, the brunette felt like she could finally breathe again, despite her tight crimson gown, which was sinched to the waist too forcefully for comfort.

Camyla was normally quite forward, but Ser Arryk was intimidatingly large in stature, and despite his friendly face, he was in a seemingly bad mood, so Camyla did not try to ask about why he had arrived so late, and the pair walked silently, for seemingly forever. Camyla was amazed by how large the Red Keep was, and by the time they reached to the dining room, Camyla felt tired and her feet slightly ached.

“You are late.”

A voice echoed the room as Camyla entered. The room was dim, illuminated by candlelight in the hundreds. Camyla had always been drawn to flames and found herself momentarily distracted as she entered, not expecting the room to be set so beautifully.

“Nonsense, Otto. She is right on time – Come sit, Lady Peake.”

Despite his cheerful tone, Camyla went speechless, having been addressed directly by King Viserys, a character previously confined to her books and her father’s conversations. In all honesty, Camyla felt almost stricken just by the notion of the Targaryen King being aware of her existence.

Camyla Peake, still stood by the entryway, was practically frozen in place, and Prince Aemond Targaryen, who was watching her closely, could not help but notice how similarly the young woman resembled a lamb sent for slaughter. With her dark eyes wide and her full lips slightly parted, Aemond Targaryen quickly understood that his grandsire’s future wife was incapable of concealing her emotions very well. The one-eyed Prince could have shown compassion and smiled at her when their gazes briefly met, but instead, he maintained his usual frown. Still watching her, Prince Aemond Targaryen decided that he would not show kindness to the girl, not when her very presence at the Red Keep wounded his mother so deeply.

“Come Camyla, sit.” Lord Otto Hightower spoke up again, and the young woman quickly collected herself, and rushed to the only vacant seat available, between Princess Helaena and her future husband.

Camyla. Prince Aemond Targaryen mused. The name rolled off the tongue very tenderly, and the one-eyed Prince noticed how well it suited the girl. Though her features were simple, there was a graceful humility in her stride, and Aemond Targaryen now found himself incapable of looking away.

The room was silent as the young woman seated herself. When she glanced to her right, Princess Helaena smiled at her, and Camyla forced herself to return the smile, before turning to face the King.

“Thank you, your Grace, for welcoming me into your home. I am honoured, and truly appreciate it.” Camyla lively spoke, mustering all her conviction.

Camyla Peake had thought herself to be well-prepared and did not anticipate her confidence to waver in the presence of the King and his family. Unfortunately, Camyla was wrong, found herself unprepared at the sight of all the fair-haired Targaryens gathered, as well as Lord Otto’s daughter, the Queen Alicent, whose intimidating gaze was piercing. But Camyla knew that she could not show any frailty, not now that she was alone at King’s Landing. So naturally, she attempted to hide her weakness with a lie.

“Please forgive me for my cloddish entrance. I fear that I have not been able to eat since breaking my fast this morning, and do not function well without nourishment.” Camyla spoke in a lighthearted tone, hoping that her attitude could be perceived as endearing.

“Let us begin eating right away then!” The King declared, a grin plastered on his face. Perhaps it was due to the small amounts of milk of the poppy a Maester has Viserys Targaryen consume, but the old King could almost see the face of his dear cousin, Princess Rhaenys, in the Lady Camyla. Though the young girl did not possess his cousin’s lilac eyes, they did have similar darker hair, and the King found their personas to be akin. It was comforting having her around, he decided.

“My love, a prayer before we begin?” The Queen Alicent asked, her voice soft but domineering.

“Yes, of course.” Viserys Targaryen responded nonchalantly, smiling at his wife before placing his goblet back onto the dining table, as though he was merely humouring her.

As Alicent Hightower spoke prayers, thanking the Seven for the bountiful feast that was spread before them, Camyla Peake made a few observations. Not particularly pious, Camyla did not close her eyes during the Queen Alicent’s speech, and she was not the only one.

Daring to lift her head and look across, she saw the one-eyed Prince Aemond, who was sat with his eye firmly shut and his hands devoutly clasped together. At the sight before her, Camyla felt herself flush, realising that the young Prince was actually quite handsome, in an almost rugged way. How was he still not betrothed? Camyla thought to herself, unable to tear her sight away.

Camyla Peake then became mortified, when she glanced to Aemond’s right, and saw the Prince Aegon deviously grinning at her. Immediately, Camyla shut her eyes and began listening to the Queen’s prayers.

“… as well Lady Camyla’s safe arrival to King’s Landing, and may the Mother Above, font of mercy, also bless Lord Father and Lady Camyla’s union, if it comes to be.”

As the Queen’s prayers came to an end, Camyla understood that despite the Queen’s comity, she was not pleased with her father’s choice to remarry, and Camyla could not blame her. Camyla Peake would not be ecstatic if her own father decided to marry a lady half her age.

When Camyla opened her eyes again, she was met with Prince Aemond’s stare, and immediately looked away, her breath hitched. She hoped that Prince Aegon would not tell him how she was staring at him herself during the prayers, but knew that this would be unlikely. What does it matter? It is not them that I need to impress. Camyla attempted to rationalise to herself.

Sudden rough coughing caught Camyla by surprise and the young woman instinctively turned to the head of the table, where the King sat. As she looked at the sickly King, their eyes met, and Viserys Targaryen warmly smiled at her.

“This old man knows that it is not certain yet, but humour me the privilege of a toast, my friend.”

The King turned to Lord Otto, who forced his mouth to turn upright, and nodded. It was not that Otto disliked Viserys’s attention towards him at that moment, but rather because the Hand realised something critical, which did not please him. Otto Hightower realised that the King has developed an endearment towards Camyla Peake, something he fails to show his children (aside from his first born). Otto Hightower also understood that he had to wed Camyla Peake, not only because an alliance with House Peake was imperative, but also because now, the young girl would be useful with the King.

“A toast to my Hand, Otto, and his fair future bride, the Lady Camyla.” Raising his goblet, the King took a swig and everyone else followed in suit and proceeded to eat.

Camyla turned to her left, to look at Lord Otto, and found the man ignoring her completely. Camyla sensed that the Hand was unhappy with her, which made her sigh, perhaps a little to loudly, as the Princess Helaena giggled out loud, making herself known for the first time that evening. Everyone turned to look at her, and the young Princess merely tilted her head and smiled vacantly. Dismissing Princess Helaena’s queer attitude, everyone continued to eat and talk amongst one another. Only Camyla knew why the Princess had giggled, and it felt like a little secret between them.

“I am particularly fond of lamprey pie.” Camyla said quietly, turning to face Princess Helaena, who was pleasantly surprised to be addressed to.

“Did you know lamprey consume the blood of other sea creatures?” The Princess responded, rather loudly, smiling at Camyla, whose eyes widened in shock.

“Surely not.” Camyla answered apprehensively, placing her fork down in slight revulsion. Blood and violence made the young woman feel uncomfortable, and she was not keen on eating a creature that now seemed so vicious. Her new-found disgust seemed to attract the attention of some in the room.

“My sister is correct. Lamprey fish possess many sharp teeth which they use latch onto their prey, in order to draw their blood.” Prince Aemond coolly spoke up. As he did, Camyla abruptly faced him, and found the young Prince smugly smiling at her, as if entertained by her horrified state.

“There is no need to talk about such violent matters in front a lady, brother. Surely you should know that.” Prince Aegon said amusingly, evidently no longer sober. Immediately, the one-eyed Prince’s mood darkened, as though he had stepped on horse shit.

“I was merely making conversation, brother.” The one-eyed Prince responded coldly. Perhaps because Camyla was embarrassed to be discussed about like this, her eyes were glue towards the table, and she noticed how the one-eyed Prince’s hands gripped the silverware that he held, his veins protruding.

“I am sure the lovely Lady Camyla would prefer more pleasant conversation–”

“Lady Camyla is perfectly fine. Thank you for the concern, my Prince.” Camyla interrupted, forcing her tone to remain girlishly sweet, hoping that their bickering would end. She really did feel mortified, having caused a scene yet again that evening.

“Always, my Lady. You are to become family after all, and Targaryens are very concerned with family.” Prince Aegon spoke jovially slurred, though his double meaning was blatant.

The room had gone tense, and Alicent Hightower seethed quietly, astounded and irritated, unable to comprehend how her father was ready to wife a girl who behaves like a child, just as his own grandchildren do. Aside from Camyla, who felt herself flush at Price Aegon’s implications, everyone else ignored it, as that is what they do when Aegon behaved like this. Normally Otto Hightower would intercede and force civility between his grandsons but decided against involving himself in case the conflict escalated.

And so, the evening proceeded as such. Conversation flowed like a river flood, in that it was unsteady, and at times chaotic.

Camyla Peake tried to become invisible once she understood that Lord Otto Hightower was ignoring her, but failed; the King would ask her about her upbringing and life at Starpike, as well as her father, and Prince Aegon attempted to bait her into conversation through lewd remarks. Like her father, the Queen ignored Camyla Peake’s very existence, but the young woman took little notice of this, as her thoughts were elsewhere.

For some inexplicable reason, Camyla felt herself drawn towards the one-eyed Prince, Aemond. Though they scarcely addressed each other again that evening, their eyes would frequently meet, and Camyla felt herself flush under his demanding stare.

Camyla ascertained though that she simply found the one-eyed Prince handsome, and as she drank more wine, her stare strayed towards him more frequently. Prince Aemond Targaryen did not mind it though, and in fact quite liked it. Thankfully, only Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena noticed this silent exchange.

In low side comments, Aegon attempted to bait his younger brother by teasing him about wandering eyes. Princess Helaena, on the other hand, made no mention of this at all, merely vacantly smiling at Lady Camyla and providing empty responses when the young woman attempted to make conversation. Though Lady Camyla liked Princess Helaena well enough, she did find the young Princess to be a little odd.

And as the evening drew to a close, everyone slowly began retreating to their chambers, beginning with the King and Queen, the former of whom had felt unwell. Camyla Peake was again escorted back to her bedroom by Ser Arryk, at the behest of Lord Otto, after politely bidding goodnight to the Hand and his grandchildren. As Camyla and Ser Arryk approached her quarters, Camyla felt bold, perhaps due to the wine she had, and posed a question to the Kingsguard knight, breaking their mutual silence.

“Are they good? The Hand and his family, I mean.”

Camyla’s voice softly echoed the hallway, her eyes fixed to the ground beneath her. Ser Arryk abruptly stopped walking, surprised by her question, and stared at her with his brows furrowed. He had no thoughts about the young woman, and was surprised to hear her address him, as ladies rarely ever did. The tall knight paused for a moment, thinking on his response.

“It is not important, my Lady.” Ser Arryk stated simply, and began slowly walking again, patiently waiting for Camyla to follow him.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this new story! I cannot really explain how I came up with this plot idea, and really, I am here to see how much chaos and angst I can write into it. I will be publishing chapters every week on Wednesday, to make the wait until Season 2 a little more bearable. Though ambitious, this story is going to be quite long, and it begins in 127 AC, two years before the Dance of the Dragons.

#aemond targaryen #Aemond the Kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aegon x oc #aemond x oc #aegon targaryen fanfiction #aegon targaryen x original character #aemond targaryen x original character #otto hightower x oc #otto hightower x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #alternate universe #au #dance of the dragon #lord unwin peake #original female character #slow burn

[clarkes-and-god]

A Season Of Birthdays And Thoughts On Marriage

It has been such a season of celebration in the Clarke household! My eldest son, Tyson, has just turned 6! He is still such a sweet boy, and he always does what he can to help others. He's clearly a natural headship -- he's so protective over little Mandy, and he's always wanting to make sure I'm ok. Such a little gentleman! At the advice of Tobias, he's going to be attending the secular elementary school in our area. While this isn't what I thought would happen, Tobias thought it would be beneficial for us not to be all crowded up in our little trailer all day, and Christian private school isn't really financially possible for us. I'll be praying that my son remains strong in his faith, and his gentle spirit isn't corrupted by secular influence. Mommy has faith in you!

My little girl, Mandy, has also recently turned 2! She already is so ladylike, and she loves mothering on her stuffed animals, which is so sweet to watch! I've shown her the crib, which we are keeping in the 3rd bedroom (now Mandy and Tyson are bigger, we've gotten rid of most of the baby stuff, and they can share a room) and she is so excited for when Mommy is going to be blessed with a little baby, God-willing. She's still a Daddy's girl, and loves to watch him play his video games. We are so proud of you, sweet girl!

Recently, I made a misstep in my marriage -- I talked to a family member in a way that made them think me and Tobias were having difficulties, both financially and in our marriage. This caused the family member to give me some advice, which while I'm sure it was well-meant, was ungodly and unneeded! While we aren't affluent, we have a roof over our heads, beds to sleep in, and food to eat! A wife's job is to make what she has work, and this is a skill I've been working on over the years. For example, little Mandy is actually wearing Tyson's old shirt, but it doesn't look boyish at all with the leggings and skirt i found at Salvation Army -- she looks like such a classy little lady in her blouse! And I would say that the only relationship issue we've had is my tendency to not think before I speak, which has only caused my husband and the people around us annoyance. I've been working on this flaw of mine, and I think my progress will do a great deal of good in our marriage. Tobias leads the family, and so my opinion isn't necessary if he's already told me his. I think this advice would also do good for other ladies in biblically-led marriages. Finally, Tobias gave me a word of wisdom in who we should trust for our advice! Only go to women who are living their lives by the word of God -- why should I trust a bossy harlot, who got pregnant before she married, and wears tight pants in front of men, to give me good advice? Naturally, women are naive and trusting, so it was so good of Tobias to point this out to me!

#cherish #tobias #birthdays #fundie sims #quiverfull sims #fundie snark #fundie simblr #modest sims #satire #homeschool sims #tobiascherish