#fancy grandmother chat

[allhailthe70shousewife]

I adore poodles. My fancy grandmother had a fancy black poodle named “Tiffany” when I was a little girl. Tiffany didn’t like me and was always snapping at me; she wasn’t used to children like my german shepherd and cockapoo siblings back at home. I didn’t take it personally and learned to respect her space.

[kaiijo]

ROMANCE TROPES — [HAIKYUU]

characters: hinata shoyo, miya atsumu, bokuto koutarou, sakusa kiyoomi content: gn! reader, the msby four, rich sakusa (i am a rich sakusa truther until the end), bokuto picks you up, sakusa is implied to be taller than you notes: omg i lowkey want to do a fuller version of sakusa’s part 

hinata shoyo ✶ love at first sight

slouched in a plastic airport seat, hinata’s leg bounces anxiously as he awaits his flight. rain beats down the side of the windows and he prays to whatever universal force there is that the flight leaves at the right time. he couldn’t fly with everyone else earlier since he celebrated his grandmother’s birthday with family but it put him on a late night flight that lined up with an incoming storm. 

he scrolls mindlessly through his social media feed, double-tapping a photo of oikawa’s reunion with his high school team and tanaka’s anniversary post for kiyoko. 

the speaker system crackles to life. “attention, passengers of flight 7644 to sapporo, due to inclement weather conditions, the flight has been delayed an estimated two hours. we apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your patience.”

hinata curses under his breath, already on his way to pulling up the black jackals’s group chat to tell them. he pulls his cap off, running a hand through his hair with a long sigh. his phone begins to buzz with texts, no doubt from his coach telling him to keep them updated. 

he rests his forearms on his knees, slumping forward and skimming through the messages. then, he feels a cautious tap on his shoulder and a soft voice asks, “excuse me, do you have a charger i could use?”

when he looks up, hinata thinks the greater powers that be answered a different prayer of his. because holy shit he has never seen anyone as beautiful as you. you’re in a comfy-looking pullover and sweatpants and hinata only realizes he’s just been staring silently for a few seconds when your expression turns apologetic. “i’m sorry to bother you, i’ll ask someone else!”

“no, no, i’m sorry,” he says, words tumbling out of his mouth. he scrambles to unzip his backpack, rummaging through until he triumphantly pulls out his charger. he hands it to you and you thank him. before you can leave, he blurts out, “i’m hinata.”

“oh!” you stick your hand out and tell him your name with a small smile and when you do, hinata knows that he’s gone. 

miya atsumu ✶ brother’s best friend

osamu’s not sure how atsumu managed to weasel his way into his plans. it was a bit of a blur, atsumu practically crashing through the door of onigiri miya as osamu closed up shop to go get drinks with you, begging to be included. he supposes to reason was pity and atsumu’s pleading look as well as the fact that you work far away that had him agreeing to his brother tagging along. 

it was in your last year of high school that osamu figured out his brother had a big, fat crush on you. honestly, it should have been more obvious, especially with the way atsumu flaunted himself and often paraded around the house shirtless when he knew you were coming over. it bothered him at first, thinking bitterly that ‘tsumu couldn’t let him just have one thing to himself? but over time, the annoyance faded as he saw atsumu prove that this wasn’t just a flight-of-fancy, and osamu has already made peace with the very real possibility that you could be his in-law someday. that is, is atsumu could even tell you in the first place.

it’s a little disturbing, osamu thinks, watching the way atsumu flirts with you and wondering if he too makes the same googly-eyes at someone he’s crushing on or if that’s the way he sounds. you giggle when atsumu tries to take a sip of your margarita, telling him, “order your own then, ‘tsumu!”

“nah, yours tastes way better.”

“can’t take this scrub anywhere,” osamu says, earning a laugh from you and a glare from his twin.

you pat atsumu’s shoulder and osamu can’t believe you don’t feel how atsumu melts into your touch. “i’m actually glad both of you are here,” you say, “because i wanted to tell you guys that i’m moving back to tokyo! my boss promoted me so i’m back at main headquarters! isn’t that great?”

“that’s awesome,” osamu says, speaking for both himself and atsumu, who looks like he just won the lottery. 

bokuto koutarou ✶ opposites attract

whenever akaashi introduces you and bokuto as a couple to new people, he always gets pulled over to the side and asked in a whisper, “how did those two get together? he’s so… and they’re less…” 

akaashi can’t say that he wasn’t surprised when you and bokuto started dating back in high school, given that they two of you were on very different trajectories. obviously, bokuto was the captain of fukurodani’s volleyball team while you were student council president and vice-president of chess club. bokuto’s grade sat at the lower end of the spectrum while you were always within the top five students in your class. bokuto liked loud, screaming parties while you preferred a quiet night with a few friends. 

so when bokuto grabbed him by the shoulders one day and shook him, saying that he needed to tell you how he felt, akaashi was taken off-guarded. he didn’t even know you knew each other beyond having a mutual friend, him. 

maybe back then, akaashi would have agreed with the person asking him but now, he just tells them to observe the two of you. because when akaashi does, everything falls into place. like right now, as he and bokuto sit in the stands, watching your final chess match. if you win, you’ll hold onto your spot as a national champion and go on to compete internationally. 

out of the corner of his eyes, akaashi watches as bokuto sits at the very edge of his seat, chewing on his bottom lip. it’s clearly killing him not to cheer and it’s a testament to both his devotion to you. your hand hovers above the bishop before you switch quickly to the queen and move the piece with confidence, setting it down and announcing, “checkmate.”

the crowds erupts into the cheers and you’ve only barely finished shaking your opponent’s hand when bokuto flies out of his seat and barrels towards you. he sweeps you off your feet, spinning you once and setting you down before planting a big kiss on your cheek. you’re beaming as you’re handing your trophy, and bokuto steps back to let you soak up your spotlight. akaashi can’t help but notice that bokuto is beaming too and clapping the loudest. 

as the crowd starts to disperse, akaashi and bokuto join you again, ready to take you to your planned dinner. before you leave, bokuto says, “i was going to do this later but i can’t hold it in anymore, babe.” and he gets down on one knee with a ring box akaashi is all-too familiar with. 

sakusa kiyoomi ✶ reunited childhood sweethearts 

“try not to look so dour, sweetheart,” sakusa’s mother tells him as she fixes his tie. sakusa wants to grumble some choice words but he knows better than to complain to her. besides, he’s only partially paying attention, eyes darting about the crowd and back towards the venue’s entrance. 

he settles on adjusting his mask with a barely audible sigh and mumbles a quiet thanks as she flits to fuss over his older siblings. he glances again, disappointed as a different group of people waltzes in. he knows his older sister wouldn’t be so cruel as to lie to him that your family will be in attendance but the anxiety is making his antsy.

the two of you were inseparable as children with you being one of his only friends growing up.  you spent you days squirreled away in some nook reading or outside playing volleyball. your mothers always cooed that you two would get together one day, and as he got older and learned what that really meant, sakusa found himself hoping too. but then your parents took you and your siblings abroad, leaving him alone and heartbroken. he cut you off, hoping the distances and time would make your departure hurt less, but it didn’t.

sakusa doesn’t recognize the voice that calls his name but his head snaps towards the doorway. you’re standing in between your older sister and younger brother, waving at him. his heart skips a beat. your social media postings don’t do you enough justice; you’re even more attractive that the pixels he’s spent hours staring at. 

you still have that ever-present smile on your face and you quickly break-off from your family to bound over to him. without even thinking, his arms close around you as you embrace him tightly. you feel so familiar and he doesn’t want to let you go as you part. evidently, you don’t either as you keep him close still, only leaning away to look at him. “you’re so tall,” you laugh, more shyly you add, “and very handsome.”

this time, sakusa thinks his heart stops. 

[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 an attentive cook (a couple of distracted 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.”

[for-a-longlongtime]

Guilty Pleasure (6/7) - dbf!Joel Miller x reader

An open bar and Joel in a tailored black outfit mean trouble at your father's garden party. Enough reason to do something you haven't done before.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni 🔞🔥 Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 43), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy', outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 3.4K A/N: I finished writing the final chapter last night and y'all, I'm giddy as fuck. Big BIG thanks to @milla-frenchy and @reallyrallyauthor for your support and reading Part 6 and 7 early to make sure this hits juuust right!

< part 5 | series masterlist | main masterlist

There are too many people in your backyard. Mingling, chatting, networking, kissing ass - all accompanied by canapés that are too fancy, beer that is so painfully hip and micro-brewed that you don’t even want to try it, and outfits intended to seem semi-casual yet also upstage everybody. You hate these gatherings. It’s far from the first time you’ve had to endure them because of your father’s work, though. Even your grandmother liked reminding you when you were little that your grandfather also hosted affairs like this. “It’s important to build connections.”

You don’t care. All you give a damn about tonight - or maybe these days, if you are honest with yourself - was Joel, dressed like a fucking vision. Well fitting black pants, that you suspect are tailored, an ever better fitting black dress shirt which is absolutely tailored, and matching black boots. His hair, usually curly and messy, now looks so sharp that you wonder if he got a haircut this morning; it’s a little shorter, definitely neater, and brushed back a little.

But what your eyes keep going back to the most are the few buttons on his shirt that are undone, showing off his tanned skin and a smattering of freckles you had barely noticed before. It makes you want to trace every single one with your tongue and find out if he would whine when you'd suck a hickey on his neck.

He’s at the bar, waiting for his drink, so you slide in right next to him and bump against his arm. “Hey. Don’t tell me you’re drinking those craft beers?”

“Jesus. No, of course not.” 

The expression on his face is one of instant disgust, and you can’t help but laugh at the candid response. “Wow, didn’t think there’d be someone else who’d hate them as much as I do.”

Joel grumbles something, then gives the bartender a nod as he takes a glass of whiskey from him. When the guy turns to you to take your order, you point at Joel’s glass. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

The guy gives you a doubtful look. “Can I see some ID?”

“Yes, you can. It’s called ‘I’m the daughter of the guy who is paying your salary tonight’ and I’m twenty two. Thanks for making that drink now.” You stare at him, daring him to push back against you - you are NOT in the mood for this tonight, especially not in front of Joel. After a few moments, the bartender sighs and shrugs as he turns around, reaching for a glass and some ice. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, so you turn towards him to give him a similar look. “What? Go ahead. Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m being a brat.”

“Nah.” Joel shakes his head as he sips from his whiskey. “You’d just get off on that. That’s not brattiness - you’re actually being rude,” he says, then wanders off to go talk to someone nearby.

You stare at him with an open mouth, anger starting to creep into you. How the fuck does he dare to just say something like that to you? It hurts, and most of all it gives you a pang of concern that maybe you’ve ruined your chances with him - between this and the way he responded at the pool a few days ago.

“Oh honey, forget about it.” The bartender gives you a look that’s bordering on pity and disdain, his inflection drastically different all of a sudden as he pushes a glass towards you. “That man ain’t into you. Wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. Why don’t you go find somebody of your own age to play with, hmmm?”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”, you snap at him as you grab the glass and stalk off, his words feeling like claws that have sunk into your skin and won’t let go of you. The burn of the liquor doesn’t help you in the way you’d hoped for, and you find yourself craving something stronger, sweeter. Anything that’ll help you take the edge off.

Anything, in this case, turns out to be 6’3”, blond, looks like a jock and is named… Brady? Brody? Brad. Ben. Blake. Something like that, you can’t remember, but it’s unimportant after having chatted with him for all of ten minutes. What matters is that he’s not a bad kisser, smells fine - not woodsy like Joel unfortunately - and his hands are large as well as eager, pressing you with your back against the solid wood of the pergola. 

If it wouldn’t ruin the mood for him, you probably would’ve laughed at the irony of making out with Blaine - Brandon? Brayden? No. Bruno. Bruce. Barry. Maybe it was Chad after all - right against the pergola that Joel had built over the past couple of days. 

You’d been watching Joel from your bay window, his muscles straining in the sun, while he grunted the way you had memorized from his Instagram videos. And for all of those three days, you’d had several orgasms as you’d watched him. Some of them were thanks to your fingers, others due to toys - varying from the small bullet vibe to the thrusting rabbit vibrator you used for longer sessions. But in the end, all of this had been going on for too long. The flirting, the way you’d feel him look at you regularly, the build up of tension; it had you feral by now, and you just wanted Joel.

You are gonna get him. Soon. Even if it means needing to make him jealous.

“Should we- should we go inside?” Jock guy pauses his kisses, leaning his forehead against yours as he runs his hands down your body, and you can feel him press hot and heavy against your thigh. Fuck, he is hung. “We’ll have some more privacy, and…”

“No, this is fine,” you say quickly, your eyes scanning the crowd of people across the yard. Most of them are unaware of your makeout session, and your glance slides right past them, but suddenly you detect Joel not too far away from where you are. He is staring right at you, gripping his whiskey glass in your hand, and when the guy next to him says something, he only shakes his head, not breaking his glance with you.

“Are you…”

“I said this is fine,” you said sharply to the guy with his hands on your hips. A frown plays over his face, and in a gesture of good will you let your hand brush over the crotch of his pants, tracing the outline of his dick. “Nobody is watching.”

He groans, his lips finding yours again as he pushes himself against your hand. You kiss him back eagerly this time, your arms around him as you turn him just the slightest bit so you can keep your view of Joel. He’s talking to the guy next to him now, a back and forth conversation, but every now and then his eyes slide back to you, and then there’s a nod he gives you that makes you shiver.

Baxter, or Bart, Bobby, or whatever the hell his name is, slips his hand under your skirt, and you moan when his fingertips trace your lacy underwear. You hear how he sucks in air for a second, then his chest almost puffs up in pride at how wet he finds you. Silly guy. He thinks it’s because of him, that his not-too-bad kisses have riled you up so much. Has no damn clue how Joel’s eyes are back on you again.

“Touch me,” you breathe at him, and then hold your breath when he does so. Thick fingers - though not as thick as Joel’s - slipping under the fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side while your eyes remain locked on Joel. You’re trying to merge the touches with your fantasies and the visual of Joel right in front of you, conjuring up his voice. You think of the way he’d tease you with slow, playful strokes over your pussy, each time a little more focused on your clit, making you delirious with need before he’d even consider sliding a finger into your soaked cunt.

But reality seems more than unwilling to blend with your fantasies. While initially the guy seemed to smell fine, you’re now noticing the overwhelming amount of generic fuck boy cologne he’s wearing, the scent unsettling and clearly something Joel would never even wear. He doesn’t smell like a hard day’s work on Joel does and his hands are too smooth, too well taken care of. No roughness from manual labor whatsoever, no finesse to tease you, and definitely not much muscle memory on how to properly get a woman going. 

Instead he’s just clumsy, perhaps because all the blood has rushed to his cock that’s pressing insistently against you. Substitute-Joel’s fingers slide over your folds only one disappointing time, clearly not even attempting to find your clit. He fumbles around as his own breathing grows heavy, then suddenly tries to push two fingers inside of you - without any further prep or even checking if that’s okay with you. 

It abruptly ruins the horny spell you’d been under several minutes ago, and you swear as you grab his hand to stop him, your pussy strongly objecting to his fingers trying to invade you. 

“Hey! Fucking hell,” you hiss, pulling his hand out of your underwear before he can go any further. “You always fingerbang girls without properly prepping them?”

“What? You’re practically dripping on me,” he hisses back as he looks confused. But you’re not about to end up in a discussion about how being wet doesn’t mean he can just shove his fingers inside of you - let alone without any warning.

“Never mind,” you say as you push him away from you, then straighten your clothes as you move away from the pergola. “Let’s just forget this happened, okay? I’ve gotta go say hi to someone.”

“Bitch,” he mutters at you, adjusting his tie and the collar of his shirt. On most days you would’ve gladly torn him a new asshole for that, but you’re just not in the mood to further engage with him. So you start to head into Joel’s direction, but then see that he seems to have moved elsewhere, leaving you to look around in confusion.

You look up when you hear a group of men laugh, and see your father shake some hands as he offers his audience a few more words. Joel is there too, you realize, still with a drink in his hand. Your father gives him a friendly pat on his arm, which is returned with Joel’s signature nod, as he then heads over to some other people who look more than eager to greet him. It makes your skin crawl to see him acting like some kind of politician, eager to make a good impression on everyone, and you quickly turn away from him to look back at Joel - who is now looking straight at you again, without saying anything.

It’s not until you’re back at the bar for another whiskey - you’ve lost track of how many you’ve had - that he shows up next to you, giving you a gentle nudge like you had done to him earlier. “D’you eat anything recently?”, he asks, absentmindedly playing with a coaster on the bar. You can smell the smokey alcohol on his breath, see that the buttons on his shirt are just a little more opened than they were a little while ago, and it just makes you ache for him.

“Shut up, Joel,” you mutter, but he doesn’t follow your suggestion - instead he picks up the whiskey that the bartender slides over to you and takes a sip of it.

“A water for her, please?”, he asks, then covers the liquor glass with his hand when you try to reach for it. “No. You’re done.”

You’re starting to seethe at this point. “Who the fuck you think you are telling me how much I can drink?,” you snap at him. His eyes are infuriatingly calm, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips makes it clear he’s a lot more amused than you are.

“Easy, darling. Just looking out for you, okay?” He pushes the glass of ice water on the counter over to you, but you have half a mind to throw it at him.

“Why are you bothering me?”

His eyebrows raise at the word ‘bothering’, but he doesn’t quite respond to it. “Just have some water and food,” he says softly. “You’ll feel like shit if you don’t.” 

“You’re drunk too.”

Joel rolls his eyes at you. “Yeah, well… have to get through this all somehow, don’t I? Been drinking water too, though.” He gives you a look as he takes another sip of whiskey, sighing.

“I don’t get why you’re here.” Your head is spinning a little, but at this point you’re not sure if it’s the booze or proximity to Joel that’s getting to you. The memory of that jock guy’s cologne is far from your mind by now, replaced now by that smell that you crave - the cologne you would recognize anywhere, layered with Joel’s own scent. And it’s driving you mad. “Nobody is making you, unlike they’re doing with me.” 

A smile plays over Joel’s face and he shrugs. “Your mom asked me.”

You can’t help but laugh. “My— what? And that’s why you’re voluntarily subjecting yourself to all of this?” You gesture around the yard, the groups of stuffy people, pretentious bite sized food and music that makes you desperately want to connect your phone to the speaker system. “I’ve been to so many of these. It’s awful, every single time.”

You’re waiting for him to tell you it’s not that bad, or even that you should suck it up. But instead he simply doesn’t respond, and only gives you a raised eyebrow as he has some more whiskey. When he puts the glass down on the bar, you impulsively swipe it and drain it before he can interfere, waiting for an actual retort this time. 

A frown slides onto his face and you grin almost triumphantly at the reaction, pushing the empty glass back towards him, only ice cubes remaining in it now. “I think you like dramatic,” you then blurt out, and see how he blushes slightly, the red flush creeping up from his chest to his neck.

“That what you think?” His eyes flick over you, and you nod, poking him in the chest with your finger. 

“Yeah. You’re… practical. Proper. Maybe kinda boring. You got your routine.” You really should stop talking with all that liquor in your system, but you refuse to admit he was right about you needing to sober up. “Maybe getting close to a midlife crisis? Working your job and then all the reno on your house. Don’t see you chill a whole lot.” 

You run your finger a little down his chest, then place your full hand against his shirt as you lean over to his ear. “I think you want some fun,” you whisper in his ear, barely audible due to the music playing at the party. “Somebody who shakes things up. Brings a little drama and excitement.”

Joel’s eyes are slightly unfocused from the whiskey, just like yours probably are, and you can tell that his guard is down in ways that you haven’t experienced before. “Old, huh? Boring, old, and close to a midlife crisis,” he says after a moment, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head. “But you would shake things up? Why would you bother with an old man?”

“Maybe I’m into that.” You bite your lip as you hesitate for a moment. “The whole DILF thing. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching me.”

His smirk widens into an actual grin now as he laughs, looking away at some commotion or a gathering that’s happening at the party. When he looks back at you, his eyes are darker than usual, and you can’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Little girl. You are in over your head.” His words are measured and quiet as he seems to pick them carefully, his hand now reaching for yours that’s still resting against his chest, and he gently pulls it off his shirt. “ Y’don’t even have a clue of what you’re playing with, darling. What are you gonna do? Rock my world? At your father’s party?”

“I don’t give a shit about his party,” you say sharply, but he shakes his head, interrupting you.

“But that’s the thing. You do,” he murmurs. “Y’couldn’t be more thrilled than to do so here, just to make a scene. Like you did with that guy.”

You feel victorious hearing him confirm that he had been watching you, and together with his ‘little girl’ comment it’s enough to make you soak your panties on the spot. “Were you jealous?”, you ask him challengingly.

He chuckles again, this time getting up from the barstool, and you take in his physique, admiring the way those tailored pants fit around his thighs. “Have some more water. And food,” he tells you, and in the split second you have before he turns away, you make up your mind. Perhaps it’s more like instinct, to do what you’ve been stopping yourself from doing for a while now. 

You grope him. 

Fingers quick as you cup him through his pants, closing around his balls and a part of his dick. It takes effort to bite back a whimper at finally feeling him, thick and hot and heavy in your hand, after all those weeks that you’ve been here and tried to figure out what the right move was. You hold his eyes defiantly, lips parted as you’d like to use your words but they all seem stuck in your throat.

His surprised intake of air when you grab him is immediate, and he looks frazzled as he shakes his head, tugging your hand abruptly away from his cock. “You out of your damn mind?”, he hisses, looking more than just a little flustered. “In front of everyfuckingbody?”

“So come insi—” The words die on your tongue when you suddenly see your mom approaching from a couple of feet behind Joel, unaware of what’s happening between the two of you, but apparently in search of you as she calls your name. Joel and you immediately step away from each other, him leaning against the bar as he seems to need a moment to compose himself. You have even less time to plaster a smile on your face for your mother, so you just nod enthusiastically as she rambles at you about some person’s son you should come meet. Your heart feels like it’s hammering out of your chest as you force yourself to tell her that you’d love to meet them, bringing a smile to your mom’s face.

Just as you’re about to join her to meet this person, your mom pauses at the bar and puts her hand on Joel’s shoulder. “By the way, he said that he could use your help with moving that thing, if you have time? Think he’s inside, couldn’t find you,” she said, and Joel nods while humming something affirmatively. His eyes flit to you for a split second before he looks down at the bar again, and he seems to wait until the two of you have moved away until he goes inside.    

You’re in a mild daze as you follow your mom through the crowd, performing the role you’re expected to play, while the moment that you grabbed Joel plays on repeat in your head. The gasp that spilled from his lips, the way he didn’t say “no” - just “in front of everybody?”, which was an entirely different thing, and frankly… he wasn’t wrong.

You can wait. Just that little bit longer. It’ll be so worth it.

Joel's outfit at the party (as a dress shirt and pants instead of a jumpsuit):

series masterlist | main masterlist

Thank you for reading, commenting or reblogging - I appreciate it so very much 🙏

🚨 Follow @longlongtime-updates + turn on notifs to see when the finale drops later this week!

[2danesand1cat]

it’s a typical tuesday night. let’s take a look into the Wayne manor happenings, shall we?

Dick is chatting with Alfred in the kitchen, post dinner. Alfred looks more tired than usual and Dick notices this, trying not to think about how much his grandfather figure has aged since he first met him and how he had to subtly help him open a jar earlier and how frail his fingers looked in those moments he struggled to pop off the lid. After a few minutes of chatting, he realizes he keeps running a hand through his hair and assumes Alfred will suggest a haircut, but he doesn’t. His stomach is flipping nervously because he has been having A Hard Fucking Month and wants to talk to Bruce about how he handled a hostage situation earlier this week (and he is nervous bc he knows he could have been better and that he was sloppy and Bruce will have an Opinion), but he really needs to just talk about it and maybe just wants a hug. He glances over at Dames and smiles a bit and smiling at his “scrunched up concentrated face” feels easy. He wonders if he’ll bring his sketch into the den for Steph’s movie.

Alfred notices that Dick seems to be lingering after dinner. He knows this means he likely has to talk to Bruce about something important and is nervous. Alfred lets him help in the kitchen and takes note of his needed haircut. He feels older than he normally does and finds himself particularly tired tonight, but is pleased with the civil dinner. He felt a small knot he didn’t fully realize was there unravel when Tim seemed to have some more color in his cheeks than he had last week at dinner. He noticed the glances between Tim and Bruce throughout the meal and assumes they must have had a good meeting this afternoon at WE and likely got lunch afterwards, resolving the obvious recent tension. He looks forward to hearing about it from Bruce later tonight.

Damian is sticking close to Alfred and Dick, feeling lighter than he has in a few days because Dick is around, and he finally has a few relaxed moments to work on a new sketch. He plans to watercolor it later. It is raven he saw a few evenings ago, and she was holding a small marble in her beak. Damian smiles thinking about how the clever bird must had spotted the marble from her perch and spent a great deal of time and attention cleaning the dirt off of it. Briefly, he remembers cleaning his grandmother’s pearl, the one he found for Bruce in the sewers, and smiles. His painting of the raven may or may not be a Christmas present for Bruce. He’s not sure if he’ll slip it into his desk drawer one random night when Bruce seems particularly stiff or save it as a gift for the holiday next month. He sips tea quietly and subconsciously rubs his little socked feet together as he sketches.

Tim has been in a good mood since this afternoon. He and Bruce finally got a chance to talk about some WE leadership changes that have been bugging Tim for a while, but more importantly, he just got some one-on-one time with Bruce that he had been craving. Bruce had told him how proud he was of him and Tim honestly talked about his current mental state, all while shoving his face with fancy fries and aioli. Now, he was excited to watch this movie with Steph that she has to view for one of her “boring mandatory history classes”. He even made the suggestion for everyone to join while eating dinner, and noticed Bruce’s eyebrow raise at the invitation. Tim figured Bruce was mildly surprised he had extended the invite, but Tim was feeling generous and cozy. He also knew that if he invited everyone that Bruce would join. However, it’s a documentary on Ancient Mesopotamia, so there’s a good chance Bruce would have joined anyways. He rips open the bag of family sized Sour Patch Kids and eats 2 blue ones as he strolls to the den, knowing Steph will rip the bag from his hands when he walks in.

Jason is browsing the library looking for his old copy of Brideshead Revisted because he wants something light and easy enough to follow as he sits in on this movie, or rather, documentary. He rolls his eyes to himself wondering what the fuck kind of family gets excited about a documentary on ancient Mesopotamia. Before dinner, Steph had pouted at him until he agreed to watch and even though he fully intended on watching it before her antics (ancient Mesopotamia is perhaps, a little bit, mildly, intriguing), he also planned to read. As he browses the shelves, he sticks his hands in his hoodie pocket and finds an old Fruit Stripe Gum wrapper. He chuckles and licks it to stamp the temporary tattoo on his wrist. He knows it’s from a pack he bought last fall while running into the gas station with Cassie while waiting for a take out order (and he also needed cigarettes, which earned him a glare from his sister). He absentmindedly wonders if Damian has ever had Fruit Stripe gum and makes a mental note to buy him a pack.

Steph is laying on the den floor, feet in the air against the edge of one of the plushy couches, and hums the Dragon Tales theme song, trying to remember all the words. It’s been years since she’s seen it, but she was explaining to Cassie how she always felt jealous of the magical world they escaped in to and is telling sweet and patient Cass how she recalls wishing she had her own magical world to escape to when she was a kid (PBS was great, but not the same). Then, feeling suddenly emotional, decided to try and prove that she remembered every word to the theme song, and began loudly (and half incoherently) belting out the lyrics. She had flipped upside down to make it seem like that was the reason blood rushed to her face when she brought stupid Dragon Tales up. There’s also a nagging pit of anxiety when she thinks about writing this dumb paper for this dumb class. She hopes Tim stays awake the whole time so he can suffer with her. She hopes everyone sneaks in to watch. She feels gross and lonely and really already started this movie but was hoping to turn it into an event for the company without having to ask for company for Real Reasons.

Cassie is sitting criss cross on the Red Den Chair because it’s Not Ugly Stephanie, it’s Soft. She was smiling thinking about everyone at dinner, and how Bruce seemed tired but not Sad Tired and how Jason actually took off his jacket again and wore just a hoodie. She wonders if maybe Steph would like to paint nails during the movie. She feels tension rolling off of Steph and thinks it may be her essay she has to write about her movie but then notices blood rush to her cheeks when she starts to talk about her childhood comfort show. She hopes Tim grabs the sour candies in the big bag that Alfred knows about but pretends he doesn’t, because she knows that those are Steph’s favorites.

Bruce is feeling extremely content. Dinner has revitalized him, not drained him, because it was one of those rare nights where everyone seemed to get along. Jason is in the library which means he plans on sticking around for a while. Tim is doing better than he projected and has been better about actually discussing his personal life with Bruce, which makes his job a tad easier. He thinks about how his face lit up when he told him how well he was doing with everything, and how proud he was of him for balancing things lately. He knows Alfred will be happy to learn about their lunch and Tim’s two proper meals of the day. As he concludes his nighttime stretching in his bedroom, glaring at his own joints for cracking so much, he makes a mental note to find Dick before he joins in with the rest of the kids as they watch Stephanie’s school documentary. He noticed Dick chewing on his inner cheek after dinner and reasons that he needs either advice and a hug, or maybe just a hug. He showers and grumbles at his nearly empty shampoo bottle. He makes another mental note to ask Alfred to stock Damian’s shower with his shampoo, since Damian continues to pilfer it. He knows Damian finds comfort in the scent but would never admit that aloud. As he walks out of his bedroom he grabs an extra hoodie for Cassie, knowing she’ll want the cozy fleece around her during the film. He decided at dinner he would not patrol tonight, but instead maybe pour over some case files, and he does not regret that decision when he hears Jason’s laughter from down the hall. He leans up against the door frame of the den and tosses the hoodie to Cassie, who catches it swiftly with a smile. Stephanie almost immediately shouts “no throwing in the den!” (old Alfred rule) and launches a piece of gummy candy at his face. Bruce catches it easily and pops into his mouth while noticing Steph’s defensive demeanor. She’s upset. Another mental note. But first, Dick. He makes a promise to come back and finds Dickie on the back patio in the evening chill. And even though the wind whips around them and makes goosebumps rise on his arms, Dick’s head is warm as he leans on his shoulder. They sit for a while, Bruce rubbing his hand up and down Dick’s shoulders and arm, until Dick’s breathing is steady again. When they both creep into the den, everyone is there. Damian scoots over to make more room from them on the leather coach on the far wall. The bag of candy is being passed around and is nearly empty. Damian leans into him and from across the room, Alfred gives him a smile and a slight nod. It’s a good night.

[fruitcoops]

Please, Please, Please

Cubs beach day in Nice and prompt C4: "Sunscreen" for day 2 of @oknutzy-week-2024! Characters belong to @lumosinlove (except Colette)!

“You,” Logan began, rubbing his hand faster until an aggressive thwap-thwap-thwap punctuated his words. “Are not going to be embarrassing me here, ouais?”

“Okay—Jesus, Lo—yes, alright, I got it.”

Logan pulled back and examined his handiwork. Functional. For now. Down the beach, Leo already looked half-asleep in the sun, and Finn’s longing glances toward him were not even slightly hidden. The breeze ushered a cloud further along; the sudden sunburst made Finn squint.

Logan huffed and squirted another dollop of sunscreen onto his palm, aiming for Finn’s shoulder this time.

“Oh my god, Tremz.”

“You’re going to burn!” he insisted. Finn squirmed away, but he had never been able to shake Logan. Not on the ice, and certainly not on a pebbled beach he’d been traversing since literal infancy. He smoothed out a stray arc of white over Finn’s spine and watched goosebumps flare on his arm. “What would you do without me, eh? Crisp? Like toast?”

“You sound like your grandmother.”

“If I bring back a lobster boyfriend, she’ll think I don’t know how to take care of you!” Logan wiped the excess on Finn’s waist and nodded, satisfied. “Bon.”

Finn quirked a grin at him. “Am I free to go?”

He was so sweet in the sun. So sparkly, copper and amber and caramel catching in his hair where the salt air had starched soft waves. Logan came close and pressed a kiss to each of his summer-warm cheeks. “I love your freckles too much to let them roast.”

“Hmm.” Finn turned his head slightly to the side, pushing his smile into Logan’s cheek. “Just my freckles?”

“And maybe you, a little,” he conceded.

Finn’s hands were pleasantly cool when he ran them along Logan’s sides in a long up-and-down. “A little?”

“Maybe a little more.”

“Enough to bring me home.”

Logan scrunched his nose at him. “I had to bring you, or the hot blond wouldn’t come.”

Finn slapped the sunscreen bottle from his hands with Logan’s favorite wordless sound of affronted disapproval—nearly a squawk, mostly a whine, almost his name. He snatched the bottle just before it hit the coarse sand and took off at a jog, dodging driftwood and clumps of drying seaweed.

Nice was beautiful in the summer. There was a reason he had brought Finn here, years ago. Finn hadn’t known a lick of French and Logan had hardly known what to do with himself watching the autumn reds of Harvard against a backdrop of blue and purple, but it was perfect. Still was. He knew just where to step to make the dock silent as he slowed and made his way to the far end, matching the steady rock of the current as it broke on the sand below.

“Bonjour.”

“ ‘Jour.”

A lazy smile spread over Leo’s lips when Logan knelt to straddle him, knees sinking into the soft towel they had brought down from his grandmother’s house. She utterly adored Leo, with his cherub curls and his good manners and (most delightfully) the ability to speak French. They hadn’t stopped chatting in nearly a week. Logan could listen to it forever.

Leo stretched, torso arching, arms overhead, ankles popping behind Logan—and relaxed, one wildflower-blue eye peering up. “You’ve got a halo,” he murmured. “Mon ange.”

Logan sighed through his nose and let his weight rest heavy across Leo’s waist. His breaths were measured with the comfort of a beach day. The sun had been kissing him golden since the first hot day in June; a week lounging on the coast of France practically made him glow.

“Le mien.” He drew a line down the center of Leo’s chest, where tiny freckles peeked through if you knew where to look. Mine.

Leo’s smile widened until his eyes crinkled. “You sound different here.”

“Mm?”

“C’est, um…” He raised a hand with great effort, tapping his fingers together like a crab claw. “Taffy. Smoother. Fancy.”

“You don’t sound like anybody here,” Logan laughed, relishing the judder of Leo’s belly beneath him. “But, my grandmère loves you anyway.”

“Yeah, she does,” Leo said, prodding him in the chest. “We talk all day long and she doesn’t say I sound funny once. You, on the other hand…”

“Ah! Un petit caneton! Ouais-ouais-ouais, coin-coin-coin-coin,” Logan mimicked.

Leo’s laughter nearly unseated him; he had hardly caught his breath when a shadow cooled Logan’s shoulder, and he leaned blindly into Finn’s thigh. “Are you being bullied into proper skincare, too?” Finn asked.

Leo tilted his head back with a hum. “We’re discussing how Madame Colette likes me better, thinks my French sounds exotique, and calls her only grandson a duck because he speaks like un canadien.”

Finn tapped the bill of Logan’s hat, knocking it off his head. “So you’re Frenching without me and not manhandling Leo into sunscreen? Preferential treatment, much?”

Logan blinked up at him with all the emptyheaded innocence he could muster. “C’est quoi? Je ne parle pas l’anglais, j’regrette.”

Finn’s lips pursed—his ears reddened. “He’s so sorry,” Leo translated before Finn could open his mouth. His hands slid up Logan’s thighs, high enough to edge on indecent but steady enough that Logan really didn’t care. “He just came here to swim and hang out with his hot boyfriend. Doesn’t know a thing about sunscreen, do you, baby?”

A gentle flick to the forehead was a small price to pay for propping his chin on Finn’s knee. “Here in France,” he said, laying on a thick false accent. “We don’t…’ow do you say…burn? I have never ‘eard of zees sun-screen you speak of.”

Finn looked at him for a long moment, then down at Leo. Chocolate-brown eyes fell on Logan again and he batted his lashes. It drove Finn fucking crazy when he did that, less in the sexy way and more in the don’t you give me those eyes you menace way. Logan employed it often for petty crimes like leaving one chip in the bag and putting it back in the pantry, just to watch Finn’s head explode for his own amusement.

Finally, Finn clucked his tongue. “I’m getting on the plane home without you. Good luck finding a redhead in France.”

Logan caught him around the calf with both arms when he began stepping back. Finn pulled, but he stood no chance when a featherlight kiss found the base of his thigh. “You’ll love me in the morning,” Logan countered. “When you aren’t stuck inside with aloe all over.”

“I happen to like staying inside and doing puzzles with Madame Colette.”

“Grandmère will keep trying to teach you French,” he threatened.

Finn narrowed his eyes, though he had long since stopped trying to free his leg. “Maybe this time I’ll learn, and then we can make fun of you together.”

“You won’t get to see the surprise,” Leo singsonged.

Logan frowned down at him, confused. “What surprise?”

Leo took his lower lip between his teeth and looked up at Finn, plucking at the hem of Logan’s swim trunks. “Remember when Lo and I went into town for bread yesterday?”

“…yes,” Finn said slowly.

“He got a really tiny swimsuit.” Logan watched Finn’s eyes widen. “And if you burn, you won’t get to see it.”

“It’s green,” Logan offered helpfully.

The corner of Finn’s jaw worked. “That’s a hard bargain,” he said at last. He beckoned Logan up with one finger and took the sunscreen back from him, setting it down by Leo. There was a curious, analytical look in his eye that made Logan want to know everything and nothing all at once. “I’ll think on it.”

“Can I help you make up your mind?” he teased.

“Yeah, actually,” Finn said, brightening. “You can.”

Logan’s pulse kicked. One week here with them had left him feeling like he’d been soaked in honey, and it only seemed to get better. He had barely been nineteen when he first brought Finn along. This future had not even been in his best daydreams. “Quoi, rouge?”

“You can cool off.”

The sudden shove to his chest caught him by surprise—the clash of the ocean around him silenced Leo’s bark of laughter in a blur of bubbles and blue. He could see Finn’s wobbly outline sketched out by the sun. Where the water drew him down to smooth gray pebbles, they drew him up, and he kicked off the bottom with the world waiting above.

[aebinspa]

let's kill the romeo

PAIRING: ricky x y/n reader

GENRES: angst, fluff at the end, rude ricky but with a motive, fashion world!au, enemies to lovers that never been enemies, reader doesn't know his feelings, ricky has always been faithful, wendy (rv) is reader's best friend, wendy only did damage but at least she was hot, misunderstandings distance ricky and reader until in the final part everything is resolved for the best, second hand embarrassment

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! this story was born in my mind in one way but ended up becoming something else. i'm not happy with it, i wanted to delete it. i wrote it in many days, between one commitment and another, and I made it even worse. i hope that by publishing it someone can still appreciate it! :(

A last-minute black V-neck dress, heels borrowed from your best friend, and a vintage clutch your grandmother left you wouldn’t be enough to save you from the embarrassment of being at a party full of billionaires. It was all your best friend's fault, a famous ambassador for a luxury superbrand who had invited her to bring a companion. And when she asked you to come with her, you couldn't help but say yes; she was your only friend.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" your best friend asks you innocently. “It’s all too much…” “I know, but the party won’t last very long. A chat over there with the CEO of Dolce & Gabbana, an hour at the buffet, and everything will pass” “I don’t know anyone…” “I just saw a colleague of mine over there! I'm going to her!” The idea of rushing straight to the buffet and spending the entire party there seemed alright to you.

Having grabbed some snacks and established some rules with yourself such as “Don’t look men in the eye for too long”, “Don’t stare at other women’s clothes” and “Don’t drink too much alcohol”, you sat down on the first available chair to enviously watch all the beautiful women in the huge ballroom of the villa where the party was being held. How beautiful it must be to be so tall and slender.

After an hour of contemplation you realized that you had completely lost sight of your best friend and, huffing loudly stressed by the situation, you thanked the first waiter you found and took two glasses of wine to drink. With a heavy step, you headed towards a door that had caught your attention. The door was all dressed up in shiny gold, making it look super fancy. Laurel leaves wrapped around the edges, also in gold, adding a nice touch to the whole thing. It stood out and made the entrance feel special, catching the attention of anyone who walked by. How tacky.

After looking around to make sure no one could see you, you tried to gently open the door, which turned out to be open to your great surprise. Inside, in a small room with a velvet sofa in the center, paintings were displayed on the walls, which—even though you were no expert in the field—seemed strangely familiar and extremely expensive.

“This painting by Monet is particularly mesmerizing, isn't it?” You almost jumped in the air with fright and the glasses - previously in your hands - fell to the ground and broke, and the terribly expensive wine ended up spilling all over the imposing figure who had whispered in your ear a second before. “Oh God I'm sorry, are you okay?” Even though you were trying to dry the Valentino tuxedo he was wearing with your hands, the boy didn’t seem to be upset and kept his posture straight. “Do you have any idea how much it costs?” he asked, looking you up and down. “No?”

The blond ran his hand furiously through his hair. Tall, handsome, blond, definitely rich, and, the cherry on top, unbearable. Why me? “Can I pay for the laundry?” “That wouldn’t solve anything” I have two pennies in my account, there’s not much I can do, idiot. “Well then I'll go” You didn't even realize it, but the boy stood in front of the door to block the exit.

“You’re not leaving. You have two problems to solve.” “Which ones, your majesty?” you asked with your eyebrow raised. A cheap dandy didn't scare you. “First, the shards of the glasses you broke. Second, my fine tuxedo" “I can't take the glasses in my hands, I risk dying, you know how it is,” the look he gave you to intimidate you was of little use “And then, speaking of your cheap tuxedo, I offered to pay for your laundry but you refused!" “In no world can someone repay a Valentino jacket and pants with a machine wash?”

Oh, if only you could have hit him, but everything in there could have been traced back to you. From the fingerprints on the door to the fingerprints on the glasses. “There’s a way.” “Let’s hear the bullshit, little prince.” I’ll leave as soon as you say it, asshole. “Work for me. A week as my secretary will be enough for you to pay me back the suit" The satisfied smile that appeared on the blond's face as soon as he saw your mouth open in amazement was not a pretty sight to see.

“How… what… You’re crazy. I’m leaving” You didn’t even have time to turn around before the boy grabbed your arm and forced you to turn and face him. “Leave me alone” “It costs six thousand euros” “What?” “My suit” “Ah”

Maybe it would have been better to mind your own business from the beginning. Maybe it would have been better to eat everything on the buffet: it would have cost you less. This time you felt guilty. “I… I’m sorry, I don’t have the money to pay you back, so, let me go” “No, as soon as you step foot out of this room I’ll go tell the CEO everything. We are great friends and, well, colleagues.” He flashes another of his annoying little smiles.

“Who cares, I don't owe you anything except laundry and a clean shirt” “You owe me a week as my assistant, otherwise it won't be you who will be affected, but those you know” "Excuse me?" “You’re not a model and you don’t work in the luxury fashion industry. You must have accompanied someone. It only takes me two seconds to find out who brought you here and you’ll see what a guy like me can do, besides buying a luxury suit” Now you were in real trouble. Getting your best friend involved meant ending up on the list of shitty friends to quickly forget about.

“Threats are illegal and you're threatening me. I will work for you for a week, but you dare use that tone with me again, just once, and I will make your life hell” It must have been the bloodshot look you were giving him or the way your hands were shaking as you said it, but the boy, faced with such a scene, responded by laughing. “Then I’ll see you on Monday. Give me your number, and I’ll have the company secretary contact you” “Okay” What a situation. It would have been better to binge myself to death.

“Your name?” “What?” “What’s your name?” he asked you again, adding a raised eyebrow to his already rude tone of voice. “Y/n” “Nice to meet you, I’m Ricky and I work as a modeler for Valentino.” The handshake you shared was colder than the weather at the top of Mount Everest.

“You're late” “No one pays me to arrive early” “I'm paying you” “So you're paying me with money that I'll use to pay you back? Brilliant” “You’re giving me your time, honey. Don’t forget that” Not only were you dressed head to toe in clothes that cost more than you’d ever earned in your life, but you were wearing the highest, most uncomfortable heels you’d ever tried on.

Ricky led you to his desk, from which you could keep an eye on both his office - or creative lab, as he called it - and the main entrance. The little prince wanted to know everything that was happening nearby. A thud brought you back to reality. Ricky had just slammed a countless pile of folders and loose papers onto your desk.

“What should I do with them?” “They’re sketches, divide them by collection. You’ll find the collection written on the back, I don’t expect you to be able to recognize a common theme” Too bad I can’t spit in your face, idiot. You replied with a fake smile and watched him walk away. If only he didn't have this bad temper, he wouldn't even be so bad to look at. The work you had to do wasn't that boring after all. While you spent your time shuffling papers, you saw a considerable number of people coming and going: men and women who in turn were full of sketches, and fabrics and were sweating coldly at the mere thought of being late. This Ricky must be quite important. The only things you understood were that your boss was a huge asshole and that he worked relentlessly. At closing time, while everyone was leaving, the blond one still seemed intent on continuing to work for more hours. As the very responsible secretary you were, you couldn't allow your boss to reach a point of no return and so you set off to open the door that led to his office.

Another woman opened it quicker than you. You didn’t realize it and neither did Ricky. Panic took over your body because you had just broken the first rule: don’t let anyone in who isn’t on the list. That woman was not only not on the list, but she was the only one circled in red as “the only person who should never enter my office”

“Shen Quanrui, you poor bastard, answer my calls instead of pretending nothing happened!” the beautiful woman who stood in front of the blond shouted, visibly angry, and from behind you noticed that she had an incredible back. Oh, Ricky… Why do you have all these beautiful women around you?

The blond looked away from the woman who was yelling at him, whispering, “You idiot, why did you let her in?” You responded with a frown. “Ricky, why do you have a new secretary after firing me not even a week ago? “Because I needed one.” “Then why did you fire me and make me look incompetent?” Scream after scream, but seeing Ricky suffer from earaches because of another one made you particularly happy.

“I have no intention of marrying you, you know that, so, I don’t want to have any more contact with you” “I don’t give a shit Ricky, your father said you have to marry me and you will” “I’m not my father” “But your father is the head of this company and the one you owe everything you have now! You will lose everything if you don’t marry me and stop being a child” The woman looked at you and the other with contempt before slamming the door shut and yelling a “Fuck you!” in the hallway.

You started to look intently at Ricky who, overcome by despair, let himself fall with all his weight on his desk chair. “Why does it always have to end like this?” he ran a hand through his hair. “Do you need something to drink?” You asked worried. I even have the nerve to worry about someone who treated me like a doormat. “Actually yes, let's go have a drink Y/n” “Ah yes sure sure. You and me having a drink together. Nice joke" “I'll pay” “Okay, you win, prince of my boots”

“So you're the son of the big boss and I'm just a poor bitch you picked up at the last minute to save your ass after firing your very loyal, money-loving secretary who your father decided you should marry? Well, The Bold and the Beautiful is a cheap soap opera in comparison!” A stifled chuckle escaped the mouth of your, albeit unpleasant, attractive boss.

“All the women in my life have ended up the same way. They met me, maybe fell in love with me a few times, and then my father somehow convinced them to marry me.” “If your father came to me begging me to marry you for a few million euros, I’m sure I would make the same decision as your ex-secretary and the women your father somehow convinced to be part of your life.” Another giggle.

“You know Y/n, I’m not that much of an asshole” “You all say that. Yet you threatened me and forced me to work for you” “I was desperate, I should have explained everything to you right away” Maybe in his heart, Ricky was sorry for everything. Those eyes with which he looked at you showed much more than he had shown you in those few moments spent together.

“I watched you all night at my dad’s party and laughed out loud watching you twiddle food and glasses of wine in your hands. You were a real fish out of water” This time it was your mouth that let out a giggle. “It wasn’t really my place” “Apparently not. But it’s not my place either. I want to do fashion and as soon as I can I’ll leave my dad’s company and start my own” “You dream big, I’ve never been able to do that” “It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud” “It’s the alcohol, Ricky” “Or maybe it’s you, Y/n”

When the feeling of saying too much hit you both, Ricky was the first to move and asked for the bill, and you broke the eerie silence that had been created. “I’ll do this week and disappear from your life. No marriage and no second-class woman in your life. I’ll finish what I have to finish and I’ll pay you back. You’ll go back to your life” “It seems fair”

You walked out the pub's front door but didn’t even say goodbye. The cold hit your face and forced you to wake up from that dream you thought you were living. Who knows how Ricky must have felt every time a woman in his life showed she was more interested in his father’s money than in him? “Well, treat me well” “What?” “I won’t let you treat me like an idiot anymore. Change your ways. Don’t put up a barrier. Don’t worry, I’ll never say yes to your father” “Um…” “Then it seems to me that your father has only chosen great hotties to be your wife, I’m out of category”

Maybe the alcohol had gone to both of your heads, but you forgot about the terrible encounter you had two days before. "I like you" "Good to know" God, why did I become red?

Four days later you and Ricky still hadn't decided to exchange a word. You continued to work and so did he, just at a different pace. Being ignored was the worst feeling you could ever have in your life and you knew it. Your phone screen lit up: your best friend had just texted you asking to meet up. After asking Ricky’s permission to take your lunch break early, you went to a coffee shop near the facility where you worked to meet up with Wendy.

“My love! I haven’t heard from you and I thought the worst!” Wendy entered the venue with great enthusiasm and everyone turned to look at her. “I’ve been busy, now I’ll tell you everything” Wendy’s face, your best friend, changed several times during your story of the events that had happened in the last period; you told her how everything had started because of that party and how you had ended up working for an unpleasant blond who had turned out to be a misunderstood softie.

“Shen Quanrui? Wait, I’ve heard that name before” “He introduced himself to me as Ricky and then this girl came screaming and calling him Shen Quanrui, I told you.” “Oh my God” “What?” “That Shen Quanrui”

You looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before screaming “Ahhh” together. The only difference was that you screamed in terror. “That Shen Quanrui who studied fashion and design…” Wendy went to take the orders at the counter and sat back down. “Let’s recap,” Wendy took a breath; “the famous Ricky from Valentino is that Shen Quanrui who you fell in love with during college when the three of us did that school project. Except that his father got in the way when he saw us going out together and then offered you, a woman in love, some money to get you away from his son and you didn't accept, convinced that you wanted to declare yourself the next day" “Yes, then what went wrong? I never accepted that money!” Even though the cafeteria was full of people, the silence between you and Wendy became more and more insistent.

“Wendy?” “I accepted that money. And I also took a job at Dolce & Gabbana. I didn’t- I didn’t think it would go this way. Then, well, Ricky disappeared, I think he went to America” “He disappeared because you accepted the money instead of talking to him! You sold your, no, our friendship for something worth much less” “I’m sorry. You know I would never do that now”

Anger coursed through your body. But it didn’t seem right to scold your friend for something she had done in the past. It had already happened. You knew full well that now she would never have the courage to do it again.

“I need to talk to him, but he continues to ignore me” “I could help you” “What are you going to do, Wendy?” Maybe she had too much courage.

It was Sunday, the final day. Wendy was ready to put her plan into action, by hook or by crook. "Good morning, Ricky" "Um" As cold as ever. You heard footsteps in the hallway. It’s time. The door to your office opened, revealing your best friend on the other side in a black suit that hugged her body beautifully. “Did you make it?” “The janitor seems to have a thing for me” Wendy showed you the key and smiled widely, telling you that she would give you an hour and no more. You nodded your head and thanked her. Now it was your turn.

“Ricky, how much longer do you have?” “Five minutes” You opened the door to his lab and looked out. “Do you want to have a drink?” “I don’t like the drunk version of me” Oh, I think so.

You looked at him better one more time. When you were in college he had black hair and a thinner face, and he was definitely less athletic. Now he was tall, blond and he looked at you with those two black puddles of his as if he wanted to bite your heart out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” “What?” “That it was you”

Ricky seemed to understand and tried to leave the room. “Don’t try that” “Y/n”

Ricky read your desire to clarify in your gaze and with a huff he leaned on the table where he kept all his sketches scattered. “Tell me what you have to tell me, Y/n” “It took me a while but I remembered” Ricky let out a nervous laugh. “And now that you understand, what do you want me to do with this information?”

The no longer handsome black-haired boy who bewitched you at university walked towards the exit door that connected your office and his study to the corridor but soon realized that it was blocked. "Give me an hour, please" "As you wish"

Sitting on the floor, between a pout and a snort from Ricky and tense looks from you, you told your boss for a week how the situation had evolved over the years until your fateful meeting. The boy didn't miss any opportunity to remind you that having a best friend who couldn't use her head hadn't helped your life.

"How much longer?" "Fifteen minutes… Sorry" "That idiot Wendy should be the one to apologize"

Even though you had spent the last thirty minutes finding one way or another to justify your actions of the last few years, in Ricky's eyes you didn't see the understanding you wanted to see; there was an even higher barrier separating you.

"You haven't forgiven me?" you asked, trying to look him in the eyes. "What should I forgive you for? If you forgot me it means you wanted to and if you didn’t realize who I was despite my hair color then I didn’t mean much to you. I may have just been a college crush for you, but you meant, you still mean a lot to me” Was he wrong? No. You had changed, he had changed, but Ricky’s feelings had remained the same for all these years and you had been shaken by a life that had never given you love.

“I… I don’t feel the same. I don’t even know if I’m capable of feeling the same for you, Ricky” “It’s not a tragedy, forget about me like you’ve done until now and everything will be fine” A click on the door lock made you both turn towards the bell: the hour had just ended.

Ricky was the first to get up and head towards the door. He waved to Wendy, who was lurking around the corner and turned to you one last time. “You’re fired.” You picked up your pace, passed Wendy, and, a meter away from the blond, you answered him without fear. “I’ll come back to show you that I haven’t forgotten about you. I’ve never forgotten about you. I may be different, but what was between you and me hasn’t even had time to blossom.” You couldn’t see Ricky’s expression after that last exchange. This was the last time you saw him. And then a year passed.

Life for you went on, for once since your parents had brought you into the world, in a whole new way: you dared to continue your studies in graphic design, now you went to the gym regularly and, even though you still found it boring, you went to high fashion parties with Wendy. What hadn't changed was how you felt about Ricky. You realized only after losing him that what you had felt while being with him for a week had brought out everything you had kept locked away in the drawer of your heart. Everywhere you saw a man as tall as him and with black hair your eyes lit up, only to turn off seconds after you realized they weren't Ricky.

It was during Wendy's birthday party that you heard two of her colleagues talking about the man you had been looking for incessantly for the past year “Shen Quanrui, how funny. I always called him Ricky and he always looked at me badly every time I did it” “Absurd, now he has opened his modeling agency and is looking for models for his first collection” “Oh I can't wait to go. When he worked for his father he made wonderful clothes” In a panic you threw yourself at the two girls who backed away in fear. “Where? When?” “Um… Tomorrow, at four in the afternoon in this area here” the young model handed you a flyer that oozed luxury from every pore. Your next move was decided and you weren't afraid to make it.

So you convinced yourself, but when the next afternoon you found yourself in the middle of all those very tall and beautiful models you almost felt sick. The girls who went first came back sweaty and agitated and shouted out loud that there was a stage outside and about fifty people ready to mock them. What wonderful news.

“Y/n, it’s your turn!” Holy shit. Anxiously, you asked the closest girl for some water and then walked towards the stage, with several giggles accompanying you. The light that blinded you did not allow you to see who and what was in front of you. Only when they threw the light lower, did a lump form in your throat.

Ricky was in front of you, his eyes wide in surprise and his hair black. An insignificant detail for anyone else in the room but not for you. You tried to get the lump in your throat down immediately, but someone with a rougher approach than yours took half the time. “Is she going to introduce herself or do we have to see her battered body?” “Give her time,” Ricky spoke.

It was enough to look into the raven-haired man's eyes to make the lump return to your throat. But that wasn’t what stopped you. The teary eyes were another obvious sign of uncertainty, but you bravely took air into your lungs and raised your voice as high as you could.

“I’m sure I love you. There is no longer anything that can make me say otherwise. I think I love.” The faces of everyone in the room took on various expressions and some began to whisper in the ears of their neighbors. You continued without fear this time.

“I love you, Shen Quanrui. I understood it when I hoped that every stupid middle-aged man had your face, I understood it when I went to see a stupid Monet exhibition hoping that you would whisper in my ear one more time and I understood it when…” Ricky was looking at you impassively.

“I understood it when you ran away to America the first time and I understood it when I was the one who left you the second time.” You were interrupted by a man in his sixties who angrily shouted at the guards to take you away.

“Stop everyone” And so it was. Ricky stood up and with that annoying but charming little smile, he pronounced his final sentence. “I found my muse. We’re done for today, sent all the girls home” Slowly and dazed by what had happened, the men and women inside the theater left. You and Ricky looked into each other’s eyes, alone in your intimacy. “I see that you haven’t changed, you’re always ready to make one disaster after another” “I see that you have changed, maybe that means that?”

“It means that I still love you Y/n. I’ve been waiting for you all this time” He held you in his arms and kissed you for the first time, knowing in his heart that it wouldn’t be the last. A thought crept into your mind. “Oh my god, what we do with your father?” “Y/n I have my own company and we are not Romeo and Juliet, there is no need to make a drama out of it” “Oh, so you are not my Romeo?” Ricky kissed you once more and you felt his smile grow bigger and bigger. He leaned in close to your ear and whispered seven sweet words to you. “I'll be everything you want, forever

[kimbap-r0ll]

Could I request Jamil, Malleus and Leona seeing their girlfriend dressed in a gown for a ball?

This is kinda cute, thank you for the ask!

Jamil, Malleus, Leona seeing their gf in a gown for a ball

Jamil

He didn't like fancy occasions that much as he enjoyed more casual dancing, but he knew you wanted to go with him so he decided to go. He knew you were going to be wearing something fancy but he didn't think he would almost drop his drink after seeing you haha

You were absolutely glowing! He almost didn't recognize you if it wasn't for the warm smile you gave him when you saw him amongst the crowd. He was definitely blushing, but he was also surprised. It might take you a bit to get him to snap out of the little daze he had

"Y-you look, um, you look great, amazing actually," he stuttered when you asked him how you looked. He can barely hold eye contact, he's just a bit shy and honestly doesn't know what to do. Sure, he's had moments where he's been flustered, but now it seems like it's five times worse than when you asked him to help you with a dance routine.

He eventually calms down (a bit, he's still shaky when you to dance haha) and has a good time. He tells you he doesn't like how form-fitting the clothes are on him, but says that you look great. He's usually a bit strict but this time it seems like he's less put together than usual because he's so nervous

Overall, I think he would say yes if you were to invite him to a ball next time. He loves seeing you in the dress, but he also really likes you wearing anything you're comfortable with. He'll be thinking about you two waltzing for weeks haha

Malleus

Unlike Jamil, he's more of a silent surprised. He doesn't almost drop his drink but he definitely stands there quietly with his mouth open slightly. He was the one that invited you to a ball hosted by his grandmother

He's able to be suave when you ask him about the dress and he has no issues talking to you. Though you're sure his cheeks are slightly dusted with pink, you won't hear much of a waver in his voice. He's just so happy to be with you, and with the way he's smiling through the entire event I'm sure everyone at the ball noticed he really likes you

"The dress is wonderful, but you're even more beautiful," he takes your hand and leads you to the center of the ballroom. Soon enough, you two would be the ones leading the event. If you ever feel nervous about the whole occasion though, he'll do his best to calm your nerves. He's super soothing, honestly I feel like dancing with him would be a way you calm down (unless you're flustered then I'm with you on that haha)

When you're chatting with other people, I feel like he'll always be next to you (he just likes being around you all the time). He never seems to take his eyes off of you either, it's something Lilia will tease him lightly for.

Similar to Jamil, Malleus would want you to go with him to another fancy occasion if it were to happen. He really loved the way you looked that night, though he always thought you were pretty. He probably talks nonstop about you to other Diasomnia students if they bring the ball up, which is honestly adorable but for some students it can seem tiring haha

Leona

He hates fancy occasions, he honestly wanted you to say no when he asked if you wanted to go over to his kingdom for a ball he had to attend. Then you said yes, and here he is with form-fitting clothes and honestly a heart that's beating pretty quickly. He doesn't get nervous about dancing, but for some reason he's worried that you won't like the way he looks or he's just too curious to see you in a ballgown

Then you came into view, everyone seemed to look in your direction. He probably didn't recognize you at first but when his brother called out to you and welcomed you into the event, Leona was like "wait, that's her?" He knew you would look good in a fancy dress but omg he wasn't expecting to be blown away haha

When you ask him how you look, expect him to be silent for a few seconds. He's just staring at you, wide eyed and you can tell he likes how the dress is on you but he has no idea how to put it into words. He's just so nervous now, and so he just stutters a quick "Y-yeah you look good."

He's able to keep a good posture and an air of regality when you two dance or go to different guests to chat with, but overall you two might get tired of the ballroom and leave for the gardens. That's probably where he tells you he really thinks you're beautiful, and that he's lucky to have you with him. He never really talks in a sappy or emotional way, but from time to time it happens, honestly it's a little cute

He doesn't know if he wants to invite you to another ball just because he hates them, but if it means seeing you in a dress like that he might bring it up. Whenever he thinks about you in general though, you might catch a small smile on his lips. If he notices he might ask in a grumpy voice why you're staring (he's just a tsundere)

[germhammy]

“Dinner”

Hostess: hello. Do you have a reservation?

Wednesday: Wednesday Addams party of two

Hostess: Wednesday? What an unusual name? I take it your mother named you after the day you were born?

Wednesday: I was born on Friday the 13th. Please cut the chit chat and show us to our table

Seated Enid and Wednesday looked over the menu.

Enid: you must hate that. When people ask about your name.

Wednesday: it is quite annoying.

Enid: I like your name, Wednesday. It’s unique. My full name is Enid Murray Sinclair. -she snickered- My mom gave all of us E first names and M middle names. My father wanted at least one son to be named Murray but my mom did not name one Murray. My middle name is supposed to be Mary. My dad “misspelled” it. He told me this when I was five. I laughed at him.

Wednesday: Wednesday comes from a line in my mother’s favorite nursery rhyme ‘Monday’s Child’ Wednesday’s child is full of woe. And I was actually named after the day I was born. My middle name is Friday

Enid: really?

Wednesday: better than Pugsley Pubert

Looking over the menu Enid gasped

Enid: um Wednesday? Are you sure you can afford this? The size steak I want costs more than the entire meal Xavier couldn’t pay for.

Wednesday: yes, Enid. Do not worry. I also made sure I have the funds in my account to cover. If not I have a back up

Enid ordered a 12oz ribeye steak medium rare, Wednesday a 10oz ribeye steak medium rare. Enid a Caesar salad, Wednesday an Arugula salad. Potato au gratin for the both of them and Wednesday ordered French onion soup.

Their soup and salad arrived when they heard a dreaded name as the hostess headed in their direction

Enid: yuck! French onion soup! You and onions!

Hostess: This way, Mr Thorpe.

They were sat a table away.

Vincent: ah! Miss Addams fancy seeing you here! Did you get my check?

Wednesday: yes I did. Thank you. My father should have deposited it today.

Xavier: wait? You wrote her a check? She should be the one writing me a check!

Vincent: you young man have no idea who you are dealing with! The Frump family is not to be trifled with! The very fact that Hester’s daughter Morticia snagged herself an Addams?

Xavier: Frump? Hester?

Vincent: Your Godmother Billie’s friend. Wednesday, please apologize to your grandmother for me. We are cleaning up the house Billie lived in to sell. There are more than likely some possessions of hers your grandmother might want? Is there a way to send photos to her?

Wednesday: I will let Granny know. Pugsley can set her up with an email or my mother will be in touch on her behalf. I will text you later

Vincent: of course Enjoy your meal

Xavier: wait what? Are just going to allow Wednesday’s grandmother to have my godmother’s things? Do you have any idea how much some of those things are worth?

Vincent: My dear boy. Hester probably helped Billie procure many of those treasures. It only seems fitting that Hester get to pick through them and find some memories of her friend. I’m honestly surprised they were not all willed to Hester.

Wednesday: Thank you, Mr Thorpe. I will tell Granny as soon as Enid and I return home if she is still awake or in the morning

Xavier: I can’t believe you’re just giving away a fortune like that!

Vincent: and I can’t believe you’re wasting your money in this useless pursuit for Wednesday’s affection. Now let’s leave her with her friend to enjoy their meal

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write about the Merc's with a gn! reader who loves baking?

Btw, I love your writing style! It all feels so accurate and it's helping to feed this new fixation of mine <3 <3

I see we have some food lovers in the askbox, chat. *crackles knuckles* you ask, and daddy delivers.

Mercs with somebody who gives them food

Scout:

- Depends on your current location. The gravel wars isn’t short of moving from place to place. If it’s somewhere like japan he’ll go full weeb mode and eat nothing but fish related dishes. You know speed racer? In the fucked up TF2 universe there’s a speed racer themed restaurant. Take him there. (On second thought maybe don’t go eating with him in Japan he might eat the Hiroshima rocks.)

- He swears he’s on a diet but it’s inconsistent as fuck. This is the same guy who canonically eats radiation we’re talking about here. You hand him some warm bread you baked and he’s ecstatic. You catch him sprinkling something on his slice. It’s grounded up like pepper. He’s like “This? This shit is fuckin’ perfect. The person who owns my gym back in boston recommended it for energy. Tastes great.” You read the label and you realize it’s grounded up uranium.

- If you make him homemade fried chicken he’ll nearly choke up. Seriously. nobody’s ever done that for him before. Giving him food in general is also his love language but chicken? He thinks you want to marry him forever and ever now.

—————————————————————

Soldier:

- You don’t really know what soldier likes.. He doesn’t make anything very evident and tries his hardest to make his one defining trait being that he’s a veteran. But you know that’s not true. You decide to make him some sandwiches and he’s confused. “Huh.. Well that’s some weird tasting MREs. Not complaining. It’s actually really good. Shame that civilians can’t get the same luxury right now.” He says. You have no idea how to explain that WW2 is virtually nonexistent anymore.

- Finally you settle with something. Honey with warm bread. Instead of eating slices like a normal person he just swallows the entire loaf like a snake. You are worried for this man’s intestines. He seems to be fine however.

- Gives you either a romantic or platonic kiss on the head. Your pick. His breath smells sugary and sweet and you nuzzle your head against his collarbone in response. This is his way of showing he appreciated the food.

———————————————————————

Demoman:

- I sure hope you’re capable of producing stew because that’s all he eats when he isn’t unhealthily suppressing his own hunger with scrumpy.

- You get him to eat a variety of food somehow. Although he’s picky, he isn’t impossible either. Due to growing up in an orphanage he was no stranger to having to cook for himself at times when the caretakers just really didn’t care. You exchange recipes. For some reason he has an entire Scottish cookbook under his bed. As well as a book on “Leonerdo Da Fuq’s Basic Guide To blowing Sentries Up. And making it look like an accident.”

- He’s very thankful. Demoman’s not much of a foodie. He eats to live rather than lives to eat. But your snacks hit different. They’re made with your love. That’s why they’re so much better than what he typically eats.

—————————————————————-

Engineer:

- WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU THATS HIS JOB. HE’S THE OVERBEARING GRANDMOTHER THAT WONT STOP SHOVING FOOD INTO HER KIDS MOUTH!!! NOT YOU!!!

- He eats everything you give him. Even if it doesn’t particularly tickle his fancy. His belly is big and swollen afterwards and you want to squish him so bad. That’s a pillow waiting to be laid on. He then tells you fond memories of thanksgiving and when his mother would cook his family an entire turkey dinner.

- He responds twofold by making you something as well. You wake up one day to find an entire breakfast platter laid on your end table. There’s a little sticky note there and although it doesn’t have a name on it — the dash alongside the expertly drawn symbol of his class is evident enough. Only somebody with expertise in blueprints would draw something like that. Hint hint.

——————————————————————

Heavy:

- Heavy isn’t a dumbass by any means but this is a certified Heavy L situation. He thinks you’re trying to offend him at first because people call him fat on a regular basis. Medic explains from afar that actually it’s a gesture meant to express hospitality, and upon realizing you were just being nice he looks embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.

- Lets you spoon feed him your food. He likes it for some reason. He likes any kind of meat, and protein. He eats that shit everyday. Not just that but dark chocolate and other bitter tasting foods as well. Despite his massive size he doesn’t actually eat large portions at a time.

- He knows how to make mostly deserts. Takes on a sort of mentor role and tries to teach you how to bake cakes and stuff like that. You’ve never seen Heavy in such a domesticated setting. Watching him go about cooking without breaking somebody’s skull in for once was actually kind of surreal.

————————————————————————-

Pyro:

- Cook / get them nothing but sweets. They won’t eat anything else. You begin to wonder if Pyro is even remotely human because of how much unhealthy food they eat. (But then again you’ve seen soldier survive losing both his arms and Medic sowing them back on. It’s probably fine.)

- They are unbelievably excited to see you walk into the room with plates and/or boxes. You’ve unintentionally pavloved them into associating it with your food. They clap and make grabby hands. Wanting to see what sweets you’ve brought them.

- It’s actually quite odd.. You see them retreat into their quarters to eat their food. It’s clear they’ve eaten it because they always take the plates back but you’re never allowed to see them eat directly. They don’t attend dinner with the other mercs or even breakfast.

- DO NOT LET THEM NEAR THE FUCKING OVEN. DO NOT LET THEM COOK. THE ADMINISTRATOR MADE IT AGAINST THE RULES TO LET PYRO NEAR THE STOVE.

————————————————————————-

Sniper:

- “Bloody hell.. This for me?” His voice hiked up a little. A little shocked that somebody would even consider making or buying him food in the first place, Only his parents ever did that for him. He takes it hesitantly but his expression doesn’t seem negative. Just incredibly dumbfounded. You had got him some donuts from a market in tuefort. You figured it would go well with his coffee.

- Immediately starts eating them. Sniper is both a meats sort of guy and a sweets sort of guy. Looks from side to side to make sure nobody saw him take your offer. That would be a embarrassing. He grabs the entire box and retreats into his camper van like a rat.

- He then slowly opens the door.. “Oh, right. Bugger. This is typically the moment I comfortably invite you in.” He cringes at the thought. Leaving the door open for you, and moving aside to let you in. He begins telling you the basics about how to hunt your food. For some reason it’s all incredibly dangerous aussie animals though. Some of the stuff doesn’t sound edible but he’s apparently eaten. He’s especially passionate about how to properly cook crocodiles.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- Pretentiously nitpicks the fact you brought him cupcakes. Citing his knowledge about how too much sugar consumption can kill you… whilst simultaneously eating the cupcakes.

- “Even worse yet —- they ruin your dental health. Hoo, i’d hate to be on the receiving end of a tooth filling by an angry dentist.” He says, shoving more of your sweets into his face. You wonder if he’s even self aware of what he’s doing to be honest. “Although I do envy their sadism! It’s much worse than mine, actually — Das schmeckt gut.” He adds.

- He frowns. You knew Medic had loved cupcakes in particular so you were confused at first. Well it wasn’t that. In fact it was something more stupid. “Well then again the consumption of sugar is important for our bodies, I must add. With the wrong diet we could die from low blood sugar. I wonder if it is possible to extract all the sugar from a human body using a sort of giant homebrewed syringe. It is in theory possible for me to—“ The man is at his chalkboard writing down mathematical equations again.

———————————————————————-

Spy:

- When you give him food for the first time he’s unbelievably pouty. Couldn’t you have asked him his tastes first? He hesitantly eats what you give him anyway. As long as it isn’t fried, fast food, candy or anything that wasn’t expensive as fuck.

- Incredibly good table manners. Incredibly good at cooking his native cuisine. For some reason he’s intent on insisting that french food is superior than any other food. When you’re eating with him he straightens your posture, politely puts your napkin in your lap and schools you on the fact you’re not using your salad fork or whatever. There’s way too much pointless shit on his table. Who the fuck created all these weirdly specific rules?

- Eventually he’s so tired from trying to teach you he loses his temper and crosses his arms like a discontent toddler while you eat nonchalantly. “What?” You say. Using the wrong fork again. He’s still staring at you. “What?!” You repeat yourself. “I love you, Spy.” You say. Shoving more food into your mouth. He keeps glaring at you.

[legacyshenanigans]

A continuation to my last post🤣

I've been howling at this thought for the last 10 minutes hahaha this is so fuckin dumb, be aware. And I make no apologies, this is utter chaos and ridiculousness ahahahahaha.

Leander was going to be taking MC to a restaurant to meet his grandmother around 2pm. Sebastian and Ominis were less than thrilled about it, and coming up with a plan to go make sure he didn't step out of line.

Sebastian: *going through the wardrobe in the dramatic arts department* Why aren't we just using polyjuice to become two other people? Why are we putting on wigs and shit? *frowns*

Ominis: Do YOU have any polyjuice potion on you Sebastian? Because I sure as hell don't..

Sebastian: I mean..No, but we could go and find some? Somewhere..Maybe?

Ominis: a waste of time..Polyjuice isn't usually something you find lying around, Just get in disguise, and let's go.

Sebastian: *sighs*

The two of them rolled up to the restaurant together, Ominis was wearing a nice dress, with a blonde fancy wig and BADLY done makeup, where as Sebastian was wearing a posh suit, wearing a short black wig with a fake black moustache. MC noticed them INSTANTLY while Leander and His Grandmother chatted together, while they weren't paying attention, MC mouthed over to Sebastian

MC: *silent mouthing* What the fuck are you doing?

Sebastian gestured with his hand for her to just ignore them, as him and Ominis sat at a nearby table, Ominis facing away from them, and Sebastian facing them.

Grandmother: Anyway, I'm so happy that Leander has found someone *smiles*

MC: *snapping out of her confusion at Sebastian and Ominis* O-Oh yes. I'm sure lucky to have found him *smiles at Leander*

Leander: *smiles and rests a hand on her knee*

(Meanwhile at the other table)

Sebastian: Sweet merlin..

Ominis: What? What's happening?

Sebastian: He's touching her fucking knee..

Ominis: *gasps* he's not? The swine *frowns* Do they look happy?

Sebastian: Well.. I mean..Yes, even though its all for show..

Ominis: URGH.. I hate this..

Sebastian: Me too..

Waiter: *walks over* What would you like?

Sebastian and Ominis: (?!)

Sebastian: Oh..Erm..What do you recommend? *not taking his eyes off Leander and MC*

Waiter: The fish is good today sir.

Sebastian: Yes yes, that, thank you..

Waiter: And for the lady?

Ominis: *puts on a highpitched fancy women voice* Oh just a salad for me, I'm watching my figure *giggles*

Waiter: *smiles and walks away*

Sebastian: For merlins sake Ominis...That voice.

Ominis: Excuse me, I'm TRYING to play the part *frowns*

Sebastian sits and tells Ominis everything Leander and MC are doing as it happens, glaring over in jealousy before there food arrives and is placed on the table.

Sebastian: *starts eating*

Leander: *leans over and kisses MC on the cheek*

Sebastian: *starts choking on his food at the sight*

Ominis: Sebastian? *Hears him choking and panics, standing up and putting on that fake voice again* SOMEONE HELP! MY HUSBAND IS CHOKING!!!!

The waiter hurries over carrying more food but before he can set it down Ominis runs towards Sebastian, not seeing the waiter and knocks him backwards, food and dishes fly all over the place, Ominis flies backwards over another table, everyone in the restaurant is looking. Sebastian spits up a large chunk of fish and takes in a harsh breath as he stands, the fake moustache half hanging off and the wig all messed up, Ominis stands too, his wig completely gone.

MC: *whispering as she face palms herself* Jesus christ...

Leander: *stands noticing them, looking mad as fuck* What the hell?!

Sebastian: .....

Ominis: ......

Leander: *frowns*

Sebastian: *clears his throat* Hey..

Ominis: *curtseys in his dress putting on the fake voice again* Helloooo~

Sebastian: *frowns* Ominis..Drop the act.

~

[everalii]

Random Hogwarts Legacy Girls Headcannons

Now the girls!

I'll be doing a headcannon post for my MC, Claire Beckett, but this is only for the NPC girls.

♡ Poppy Sweeting ♡

• Hates people? Of course, unless they're Ominis Gaunt. She was head over heels for him since she saw the boy sit on the Sorting Hat stool in the 1st year. She was completely overwhelmed when he begun courting her;

• Poppy at first wanted to become a researcher like her grandmother, but after fighting poachers with MC, decided she'd be an auror, and her main goal was to end every poaching camp possible;

• Her last name may be Sweeting, but she enjoys salty food. Shepherds pie is her favourite meal;

• She considers MC her best friend, and eventually, Natsai as well. You'd always see the trio together;

• Was haunted in terrible nightmares by the dragon she saved with MC. In her dreams, she failed to save her. Ominis was the one to comfort her, and he commissioned a necklace with a dragon pendant for her, the pendantwas charmed to calm her dreams;

• Transfiguration was her second favourite class, however, she'd cry if the task was to transfigure some creature into and inanimate object;

• She's passionate Cancer, born in june 27th.

◇ Natsai Onai ◇

• Her biggest dream is to return to Uganda, where she can roam free as a gazelle;

• But, if she was to stay in Britain, she would love to become and auror with Poppy and MC. They would ravage poachers and ashwinders;

• Her best friend is Anne, and she was the only one to know about her animagi form until MC and later, Poppy. The proximity with Anne also made her close to Sebastian. Garreth was also her best friend, and she suspected he fancies Anne;

• Is the seeker of the Gryffindor quidditch team. She caught the snitch three times already! Her broom was once jinxed so she wouldn't be able to catch it, but she did it anyway;

• When in Hogwarts, she corresponded with her friends in Uagadou, and they found extremely weird to wield magic with a wand. She has grown fond of her wand, but every time she could, she'd cast wandless magic just to impress people;

• She got very self conscious of her colour and hair texture when she got in Britain, but Anne helped her to overcome her insecurities;

• Born in January 6th, she's a strong capricorn.

♤ Anne Sallow ♤

• She was actually the troublemaker of the twins. Ominis had to put up with 2 idiots sharing a single braincell;

• Her favourite class was Herbology, she would stay for hours in the greenhouse with professor Garlick chatting and tending the gardens;

• Once, Cressida spread a rumor about Anne and Ominis being involved romantically during their 4th year. Anne and Natty broke into the restricted section so she could get a book on hexes. She hexed Cressida's hair to turn into a green goo. Anne was in detention for a good 3 weeks, but the Gryffindor never lied about her again;

• Anne is a legilimens, and Sebastian is a natural occlumens. Despite being difficult, Sebastian doesn't lock is thoughts with much efficiency so she can read a few things. Usually is his perverted thoughts of MC, which Anne is disgusted about;

• She was unsure about MC at first, thinking she stole her place in Hogwarts, as everyone of her friends also became friends with MC. But they eventually got along, when she realized her brothers feelings for the new girl;

• Loves to cook and bake. When the pain attacks were sparce, she would bake for her uncle to make him calmer. It helped, and he was way less stressed;

• An her twin, she's a Sagittarius, born in december 14th. Also, she's was born first.

♤ Imelda Reyes ♤

• Her family comes from Spain, and when nervous, she shouts in spanish. Due to her spanish blood, she was supposed to be admitted to Beauxbaton, but much to her British mothers satisfaction, she received a Hogwarts acceptance letter;

• Her older brother plays in the Spanish National quidditch team, however, Imelda's wish is to play in the British team so she can beat him;

• Couldnt sstand Everett, only the mention of his name makes the blood boil in her veins. Hes always teasing her and she was always fighting him. During their 7th year, she realized she'd fallen for him and it haunted her for good. They begun courting shortly after graduation;

• Secretly loves romance novels, and spent 7 years day dreaming about the one she would marry;

• Also dances very well. Somehow, she managed to teach flamenco to Garreth, and they dance at parties and gatherings;

• Is very lightweight when it comes to alcohol, a cup of butterbeer makes her head dizzy and rambling non-sense.

• A very hot heated Virgo, born in september 8th

Any girl you want headcannons? Tell me in the comments.

Also, my own birthday was mentioned, guess which girl I gave it to.

Love y'all

[bengiyo]

Dangerous Romance Ep 3 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Kanghan took his bullying to maximum levels, but got dunked on by his own grandmother when she called out his bullshit in front of the principal and then hired Sailom as his tutor. Kanghan continued to lose to Sailom, so fucked with his money by accusing him of being a sex offender in the parents’ chat. Kanghan took a gun to Sailom’s house to try and intimidate him only to find him being beaten by debt collectors. Kanghan scared them off, and we left at Sailom still in shock as his brother arrived late.

Oh, good we’re picking up with the gun. Let’s not forget that he took a fucking gun to Sailom’s house. Perth’s characters waving guns around dangerously is the GMMTV theme of the year.

Compensation for losing your job? Look, I read a bunch of negative takes on Sailom of Wedding Plan for fucking with Nuea’s money when it wasn’t actually a big deal there. It is a big deal here! Kanghan was actively fucking with his money! Kanghan called Sailom a pedo and cut off his tutoring gig!

Kanghan went to the library smelling like soccer? I don’t know about that.

I love them putting a PS5 on a coffee table so we can see that Kanghan has money as he talks about how he’s not going to study. It’s not even plugged into anything!

Kanghan seems really nervous around his dad. It feels a bit out of sync with the way his dad seems to have no expectations of him.

I don’t know how I feel about the implications that Sailom has had feelings for Kanghan already with the way he’s nervous about holding onto him, and then smiling about it. I really hate stories of gay boys having crushes on their bullies.

Oh, so now we're buying fancy dinners for Sailom? I see you, Kanghan.

Did he really just order meat and no veggies? He is such a boy.

Speaking with others casually is a low-stakes way to learn a language, but I'm with @shortpplfedup that this sounds like JoJo Tichakorn learning English to flirt with tourists.

Yes, let's try to deceive our way into the bar. Incredible.

Oh, so we're going to acknowledge in English how thematically linked their names are? Sure, why not!

Pepper is about to turn into Claire Huxtable. "You ain't paid me back for that loan but you decided to go out and have big fun with the Wretched?"

Chimon really makes incredible facial expressions. He and Perth are well-matched.

Sailom continues to see through all of Kanghan's bullshit.

Kanghan may not be great at English, but he knows how to tell people to fuck off. Was curious if a GMMTV show would reference sex tourism at some point.

Kanghan also clearly watches too many movies if he immediately resorted to kissing to blend in with just ONE other couple.

I appreciate that Kanghan sensed that something was amiss in his house right away.

LOL! Sailom also thinks Kanghan watches too many movies!

That is a seriously good portrait of Perth. Goddamn.

Pretty fucked that his dad got him the thing he wanted but not on the terms they agreed.

Oh no. Please tell me that Sailom has not been crushing on this boy since middle school.

I don't know, y'all. I like Chimon and Perth a lot, but I'm not that into this dynamic. I do like a cross-class romance as much as anyone else, but I was hoping things would be a little more contentious between them. I feel like we're moving past some things quickly.

[mysticnightmarewrites]

Gendrya Kinktober 2023 Day 11: Pool Sex

“We should totally tag along. We’ll be at a fancy manor, there’s a freaking indoor and outdoor pool, and we won’t have to pay a dime.”

For some reason, Arya found it harder than she’d expected to convince Gendry to go on a last-minute Spring Break holiday with Sansa and Margaery. Despite protestations he wouldn’t fit in and that they would be crashing someone else’s vacation, Gendry finally caved.

“I guess if Sansa invited us…”

A day later, they were on a private jet headed to the Reach. Gendry had spent the whole ride fidgeting with the fancy seat and chatting with Margaery about motorcycles, which she happened to have a deep passion for. Arya, on the other hand, spent the flight trying to avoid Sansa’s attempts at telepathic communication. 

Once they’d gotten to the manor, Gendry’s mouth dropped at the size and expensive decorations.

“Aren’t we lucky Grandmother and Daddy had business in King’s Landing this week?” Margaery had proclaimed, tossing her designer bag onto a chaise lounge that looked to be hundreds of years old. 

“Sansa and I are going to a club downtown tonight. Do you want to come along? The limo will swing by in an hour.”

Picking up on Gendry’s apprehension, Arya answered for the both of them, “I think Gendry and I would rather hang out by the pool.”

“Your rooms are up the stairs, second and third doors on the left,” Margaery nodded her head toward the staircase.

“We should probably start getting ready,” Sansa said when her eye contact gymnastics failed. She grabbed Margaery’s hand and started pulling her down the hallway.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Margaery’s melodic voice drifted off into the distance.

After changing into their suits, they made their way to the back of the manor, slipping through giant french doors out onto the backyard. But that wasn’t quite the right word. A small, but nicely kept lawn sprawled out in front of them, and the pool sat in the center of it, a waterfall spilling down into the body of water. Arya almost expected to see koi swimming around inside but was glad to find that it was, in every meaningful way, just a pool. 

“Are all your friends this rich?” Gendry asked, tossing a towel he’d brought down from his room onto a pool chair.

“Of course not,” Arya denied. “Growing up I spent more time with the hotel staff than with people like this.”

“Says the girl whose family owns a hotel.”

“Touché. But if it weren’t for my friends, you wouldn’t be able to see me do something like this.” Brazenly, Arya undid the clasp of her bikini top and flung it out into the grass before jumping in. 

Gendry went silent, as if he wasn’t able to form words anymore.

“Well, aren’t you going to come in?” Arya teased, resting her elbows on the tiled edge of the pool.

Eagerly, Gendry dropped his swim trunks and jumped in. Instead of being greeted by an icy shock to the system, he felt warmth bubbling up inside him, and it wasn’t just the blood rushing to his cock. “It’s heated!”

Arya smiled. “I know something else warm that you can swim in.”

“And what’s that?” he asked, playing along. 

Swimming over to her, Gendry pulled her close and reached a hand down to rub her through her bottoms, but she wasn’t wearing bottoms. When had she taken those off? The thought was clear to see on his face.

“You always surprise me, you know that, Arry.”

Arya smiled, the soft reds of the sunset settling on the water all around her. She wrapped her arms around Gendry, kissing him with all the want that had pent up in her body.

Suddenly, though, she found herself being lifted up into the air and placed on the tile. She squeaked in surprise, but there was no one else around to hear her. Which, as it happened, turned out to be a lucky thing, as Gendry’s tongue on her cunt elicited the kind of moans that would have gotten them into trouble almost anywhere else. 

Gendry’s hands were everywhere. On her hips. Rubbing her nipples. Lifting one of her legs out of the water to get better access to her. And his tongue seemed to explore deeper inside her than he’d ever done before. Soon, her orgasm was wracking through her body, and she was screaming. It was a beautiful thing that couldn’t be contained.

“Fuck, I nearly came just tasting you, Arya. Need to be inside you,” he groaned into her thigh, desperation lacing every word. 

Sliding back down into the warm water, Arya clung to Gendry. The only sound was the soft burbling of the waterfall. Lips lazed along her neck, gentle and warm, as he pushed her against the wall and slipped inside her.

“Still think this was a bad decision?”

“The worst.”

Gendry pushed all the way in, thrusting in a sweet, unrelenting rhythm. It felt like an ocean was crashing all around her, inside her, part of her. Nothing had ever felt so right.

[chrissyblr]

Writeblr Intro!

Heya, I'm Chrissy and I'm finally making a sideblog to house my writing/reading stuff! Here you can find updates on my current writing projects, book reviews, and general thoughts on writing/books/literature etc.

A little about me: 25. She/her. I have a degree in history with a minor in archaeology. I love knitting, baking, crosswords, long walks, and other such grandma activities. :)

Fave Books: Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, Emma by Jane Austen, The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood, Red Dragon by Thomas Harris, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins, Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry, Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

General Reading Interests: westerns, horror, weird 90s sci-fi, romance, historical fiction, character driven stories

WIPs

The Imposters - sci-fi/romance set in the 90s, third draft, editing

Daphne Floros knows that the truth is out there, she just needs proof. After moving into her grandmother's house in an idyllic neighborhood, alien obsessed writer Daphne knows that this is the place where she can turn her lifelong dream of becoming an author into a reality. But navigating her new home comes with fresh challenges. Nosy neighbors? No problem. A childhood friend turned aerospace engineer that lives down the street? Sounds too good to be true. A possum in the bathroom? Grab the net. But when her nearly finished manuscript goes missing, Daphne discovers that otherworldly forces might have made a home here too. To protect herself and her new neighbors (and finally finish that damn book), she needs to get to the bottom of what exactly is going on next door.

Rabid Rabbit - western, outlined

Felicity James is knocked off her pedestal of privilege and puts her life in the hands of a horse thief to get back to her home in Georgia. But along the way she discovers a freedom that she's never known in life and doesn't want to give it up so easily.

Cerulean - crime/thriller, planning

The town of Cerulean thought that the Salt River Killer retired years ago after his last victim managed to escape with his life, but when a body turns up in the river, residents fear that he might be back to finish what he started. A housewife and a police deputy are tied together by a deadly secret. A hairstylist turned ghost hunter wants to capture proof of spirits. A high school swim team star hatches a risky plan to protect her younger sister. And a fresh faced officer vows to stop the Salt River Killer once and for all. Though not everything is as it seems from the outside.

I also have a ton of projects in the brainstorming phase that aren't fleshed out enough to give a ton of details on.

Come on over to chat about books or writing! You can also follow my main @cutemothman where i post about the x files, my farmers market successes, rdr2, and anything else that strikes my fancy.

[asena-graywolf]

Full Time Cleaner || Part 2

The next evening, you prepared for going to Kenma's house for the first time as a guest, not a cleaner.

You didn't need to wear fancy dresses. Otherwise, you didn't want Kenma to think you like her and get spoiled.

You weren't going to act like a loose woman tonight. You would be a dignified lady. You've never been one of those loose women anyway, and you wouldn't destabilize yourself today either.

You wore jeans and a stylish shirt. You waved your hair and put on a light daily make-up.

Now you were ready and you could go. You left the house and walked to the bus stop. The last bus was at 22:30. You thought you could catch the last bus if you didn't stay late at Kenma's house

You waited for the bus for half an hour at the stop. Get on the incoming bus and head to Kenma's house

You got off at your usual stop and started walking to Kenma's house. You entered the apartment, caught the elevator, went up to the 12th floor and came in front of the apartment number 43 and rang the bell.

Soon Kenma opened the door and greeted you.

"Welcome"

"Thank you"

"Be my guest. Get in”

He stepped back to open the door and let you in. You didn't expect to find Kenma in her home state. You were dressed elegantly, but she was at home. He looked pretty shabby in a matted T-shirt and a black wrinkled sweatpants underneath.

“Today you are a guest in this house. I'm not very good at cooking, but I hope you like my cooking"

“Of course I like it. What did you do?"

“Meat sauteed rice and miso soup.”

“Oh! I like a lot."

"Come then"

Kenma took you to the kitchen. He put the soup in the soup bowls.

“Can I help you too?” you got up

He stopped you with his hand

"No. Sit down. I will handle it. You've already done a lot of work for me every day."

"Alright. As you wish” you said and sat down at the table again.

He placed the soup in front of you. He then brought candlesticks and candles to the table. He lit the black candle on the candlestick and turned off the light

It had been a half-romantic setting.

When you tasted the soup, you realized that it was even better than your grandmother's.

“Delicious! Kenma, you did great, I love it!”

He smiled softly at you as he said, "Enjoy your meal."

"You've been in trouble. I hope you didn't have any trouble thinking about food"

"No. I don't usually live, but sometimes I think about what to cook"

"I understand"

You chatted and ate your food. Kenma asked you after serving the sauteed meat and rice

“Shall we drink wine too? If you want?"

“Oh well…it's okay” you said a little timidly

Kenma took the bottle of red wine from the cabinet. She opened the bottle with the corkscrew and then poured it into two glasses.

Before he started to eat, he raised his glass and waited for you to clinch your glass against his.

"Cheers?"

"Cheers"

You drank after clinking a glass. In order to get to know each other better, you continued your conversation and ate dinner.

You didn't want to get drunk that night. Because you were going to walk home. But Kenma insisted you have another glass after dinner.

“Come on, just one more glass. If it affects too much, I'll make you a coffee"

“No thanks really. More than 1 glass touches me”

“It is already late. Can you find a bus to return at this hour?"

You took out your phone and checked the time. Kenma's conversation was so sweet that you couldn't tell how time passed. It was showing 23:00.

"Oh my God! When it was 23:00. The last bus was half an hour ago. It can't be off!”

“Okay, don't worry. I'll drop you off in the car"

You looked at him with puzzled eyes

"So what? Do you have a car?"

"There is. But I don't park in front of the building. It's in the parking lot. I can leave you if you want"

“But you are drunk. What will you do if the police stop it?"

“I'll get myself a coffee. Then I'll drop you home. Is it possible?"

"It's possible"

“For accompanying me tonight…”

Just then, Kenma's phone rang incongruously.

“I beg your pardon. I'll be right back"

He came out of the kitchen and picked up the phone. You could hear their conversation as he spoke loudly.

“What's wrong with you that I drink alcohol! Do you want money again? Didn't I just send you money last week? How quickly did you eat all the money?"

Kenma's voice sounded angry. Whoever called was clearly someone who pissed him off.

"So what? Do you expect me to believe? Come and tell my cone! I've heard the same story from you a lot. Look at me! If you call again, I'll make you regret it, you know? Don't bother again for money or anything else! That's it!”

You came out of the kitchen

“Kenma?”

Kenma tried to hide her trembling, but you noticed. But you were trying not to let him notice

"Ha? Y/N. sorry. Wait, let me have a coffee. Then I'll take you home"

"Alright"

After Kenma drank coffee and sobered up, you left the house together. You landed in the parking lot. There was a model sports car last year. It was a car that could handle it, even if it wasn't very big and luxurious.

Kenma started the car and you drove out of the parking lot

“Describe to me your home”

"Ok"

He turned on the radio. By chance, the radio channel you listen to often came across. They always played slow songs at this hour and you would like it.

Kenma wanted to change the channel, but you blocked it.

“Kenma, can you not change the channel? I love this channel very much. I should at least listen until I get home"

"Okay," he said reluctantly.

You described your house to him. Within minutes you were in front of the house

“Thank you very much, Kenma. For everything. Food was great”

"What does it mean. It was my pleasure to host you. I will wait again”

You said "I'll come again tomorrow anyway" and laughed

"But I won't be able to see you"

Kenma's saying that sparked a spark in him. You could hear the heartbeat. You looked at each other for a while. Your cheeks were flushed.

You shook yourself

“Well… whatever. I have to go. Thanks again. for leaving"

"It does not matter. Good night"

You got out of the car and waved to Kenma before heading home. And he waved at you through the half-open window of the car. You looked after him after you drove away

You couldn't understand what was happening to yourself. You had a good night today, but what was it like to be suddenly attracted to Kenma?

You went home, ignoring all the questions in your head. You took a hot shower, put on your clean pajamas and went to sleep as soon as you got under the covers.

From the next day, you continued your routine of cleaning Kenma's house, which was no different from the Wednesday market, and getting paid.

Kenma would thank you after every cleaning. But in the last few days, he started to send sporadic messages. You thought all was not well with Kenma. Especially after the phone conversation you overheard at dinner that night.

When you went back to Kenma's house that weekend, you were in for an unexpected surprise. Kenma looked pale when she opened the door. He was looking at you with tired eyes. He was obviously sick

“Kenma? What is this? What you got?"

"Ah! I forgot to tell you. I'm canceling your today's shift. I am so sick. Take a vacation today too”

You put your hand on her forehead and check if she has a fever

"You have fever. Stop! I'll make you a soup."

“No please y/n. Go home. I don't want to infect you either."

“At least let me do something for you. I'll go later"

“I say no y/n, will you go to house?”

Just then, Kenma's phone rang. The phone ringing was coming from the room and you had to go to his room to pick it up

You took the opportunity to enter the kitchen and started making the soup you thought he would love.

The soup took half an hour to prepare, and Kenma hadn't left his room for half an hour. What was he talking about all this time? Was this something important enough to talk on the phone for half an hour?

You put a bowl of soup, a spoon, a napkin and a glass of water on the tray. You walked towards his room. You came to the doorstep when you were startled by Kenma's shout

“DAMN YOU MOTHERFUCKER! WHY DO YOU STILL WANT MONEY FROM ME! THE MONEY I EARNED BY MY FINISH, YOU SPEND MONEY ON A GAMBLING, THEN SHAMELESSLY ASKING FOR MONEY FOR YOUR GAMING DEBT! DROP DEAD! LET ME GET SAVE FROM YOU! I'M SHARMED FOR BEING MY BROTHER! I HOPE YOU WILL DIE IN DEBT! GO TO HELL!"

You had always known Kenma as a calm person and you were startled by her anger and aggression.

Apparently it was his brother who called last time and he wanted money for his gambling debt. It was evident in every way that he had fed Kenma.

That's when you came in and left the tray on the nightstand

“Kenma. I prepared something for you. Come on, eat that soup, you're warmed up for it too"

Kenma pressed her palm to her face and yelled at you with a crimson face.

"I DON'T WANT! DID I TOLD YOU TO GO HOME! WHO WANTED YOU TO MAKE ME SOUP?”

“Oh…But. I just…"

“Get out of my house! Go away or I'll cause an accident"

Never would she have thought that Kenma would be such a terrible person when she was angry. You were frozen where you were

“Kenma, don't be like that. I am trying to help you"

“GET OUT OF MY HOME!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you against the wall. You hit your head against the wall. You hit it so hard that when you touched the back of your head with your fingers, you saw that there was blood on your fingers. You had a headache. Maybe even stitches were needed.

Kenma was shocked to see his momentary aggression hurt you. He was staring at you inexplicably. Couldn't say a word

“I HATE YOU!”

“Y/N…”

Even though he tried to lift you, you stood up and escaped from his grasping hands.

"DON’T TOUCH ME!"

You ran to the hole. You left the house crying as you took your bag.

You were still in shock. Your heart was beating like. You were holding your bleeding head. You immediately hailed a taxi and went to the nearest hospital.

Your head was still bleeding. You barely lasted until you got to the hospital and fainted by the time you got there.

When you opened your eyes, you were sitting on a stretcher and a nurse was standing in front of you.

"Are you okay?" the nurse asked you

He then made two marks with his fingers.

"How many is this?"

“Two…” you said in a tired voice

“And this?”

This time it was showing the number five.

"Five"

“Can you say the weather is beautiful today?”

You repeated the sentence verbatim

"What is your name?"

“Y/N L/N”

"I'm not going to push you too hard, but do you remember how you got here?"

You remembered everything and told the nurse one by one. Thus, it was determined that you did not experience any memory or neurological disorders.

Before the nurse left the room, she gave some unpleasant information.

“Oh by the way Y/N. There is someone who wants to see you. While you were unconscious, your phone rang. We told the caller you were here"

"Who?"

“Kenma Kozume. She said you have a boyfriend"

How dare Kenma say such a thing? Especially after the damage it did to you

"What?"

“With your permission, I will take you to the room for him to see”

You sighed in distress and reluctantly agreed.

"Alright"

"Get well soon"

As soon as the nurse left the room, Kenma entered the room. She walked over and looked at you. You averted your eyes from him

"Why did you come?" you asked both sadly and reproachfully

“Y/N…are you okay?”

"How do you expect me to be after what he did"

“I was very worried about you. I know, it was my fault. Sorry. I'm really sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am after seeing the damage I've done to you with my own eyes."

You got off the stretcher and reached for your bag. But Kenma stopped you. He seemed insistent on making amends.

"Please listen. You are so right to be angry with me. After what I did, I know I never deserved you. But please listen to me. Then if you want, you won't even see my face again."

Even if you didn't want to, you decided to listen to him.

"Look. I've been dealing with my stepbrother's gambling debt for the past month. My father was also a gambler. After my mother died, he got married a second time and my brother was born. I could never love him. Because I felt that in the future I would be like my father. I was very young then and could not comprehend things. My father committed suicide because he was up to his neck in gambling debt. My stepmother also sent me to the dormitory and left with my brother. I was seeing my brother from time to time. After all, our fathers were the same. Even though I hated my father, I wanted to protect the only relic left from him. But it didn't. I became a youtuber and started working. I was sending half of the money I earned to my brother. He started asking me for money a month ago. He said it was for school fees. I believed like a fool and sent money. He started asking for it every day and I got suspicious too. One day three men came to my door. It turns out that the dishonorable man who will be my brother has laid his gambling debt on me. He showed me the flat I live in as a payment for his debt. I was either going to pay this debt or they were going to kill me. That day, I hated him as much as my sin, without even saying my brother. The debt he owed me was not like that. I had to sell the house. It wasn't that easy either, she. I currently live as a tenant in the house I sold. Now he's exploiting me again to pay off his gambling debt. I have nothing left in my hand. First my father and now my brother have ruined my life together.”

Your anger at Kenma had eased a little, but when she remembered the bandage and stitch on her head, her anger at him flared up again.

“I'm really sorry for what you went through, but what made you do this to me? Why did you project your hatred for your brother on me?

“You didn't deserve this y/n. Once again, I sincerely apologize to you.”

He took your hands in his.

"Look at my face"

When he disobeyed his word, he lifted your chin with one hand and forced you to look at him.

"Look at me! Y/N. You've been my life since you started working for me. I do not want to lose you. Please don't leave me. I love you"

Kenma's startling confession softened your heart and you were just as excited as the first time you saw him.

“Say something y/n. I can understand if you don't want to be with me, but please don't be like that. I want you to be my girlfriend, no longer my employee, and live with me”

He kissed the stitched part of her head. You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his stomach.

“I love you too Kenma”

He was surprised when you suddenly hugged him, but then his one hand wrapped around your shoulder and the other caressed your head without hurting the stitched wound.

“Thank you y/n. For forgiving me. I will never hurt you again from now on. I wish I had broken my hand so I wouldn't have pushed you. If you hit me too, I won't make a sound."

“I wouldn't do this to you, Kenma. I just need a little hug right now. Can we stay like this for a while?"

He kissed your forehead, put his cheek on your head

"As you wish"