#i want to squish his cheeks i want to dunk him in oil i want to ruffle his hair and hug him like a squeaky toy

[orcelito]

I love 98 vash SOOO SO SO SO SO MUCHHHHH what the FUCK

[five-flavor-soup]

suffering will be your teacher is now complete!

Chapters: 4/4

Words: 33k

Relevant tags: Zuko-centric, dual POV, Time Travel, Lieutenant Jee being a reluctant father figure, many mentions of the Air Nomad genocide.

Summary:

The bath takes care of the sweat. Takes care of the burnt bits of skin and fat that still cling to his palm. Zuko scrubs his body until it’s raw, blushing red; he dunks his head under the hot water and stays there, staring up at the dark, vaulted ceiling of the washroom until his lungs run out of breath to use. The oil of honeysuckle and opium and cinnamon, sweet and sharp and earthy, does not wash the stench of scorched flesh out of his nose.

Zuko falls asleep on the evening of his official coronation, when he’s twenty-one-years old and has finally reached his majority. Zuko wakes on the morning of the Agni Kai with his father, eight years earlier. This is annoying for several reasons, like the fact that the War is still ongoing, that he has zero friends, and that Ozai is not in jail. It’s time to scheme.

Snippet from Ch 4:

If the rest of the crew is to be believed, nothing in the atmosphere has changed—except that, perhaps, it is lighter, easier to breathe through. None cut corners, but none are scared to cut corners either. The sheer empathy the Prince is capable of fosters a comfort that Jee has never once experienced on a warship.

But then, this isn’t a warship, is it? The Wanyi is a floating bucket of rust sailing with the sole purpose of finding the Avatar, of teaching their Crown Prince worldly things. There is no true pressure. Prince Zuko will not find the Avatar, and everybody knows it, and nobody cares about it either. 

Jee knows, however, and can read that there is a line of tension strung in the air. Where the others are ignorant of it, Jee’s job is positioned too close to the royals for him not to notice the glances, the nods, the looks between the Prince and his uncle. 

“Would you say all crewmembers are trustworthy, Lieutenant?” 

Jee pauses in his stretch. Prince Zuko, who had been mirroring him, does not; goes further until his upper thigh is mere inches from the deck. 

“In what way, my Prince?” he asks. 

“That they are under my command only,” the Prince clarifies. “Not also my father’s.” 

Jee does not speak immediately, does not say ‘yes, of course’ as is his knee-jerk response. Because, are they? They likely are, but Ensign Asami’s mother works in the palace; but Seaman Keiji’s little brother is part of the royal guard; but Recruits Kazumi and Ohta are still, as of now, entranced by Fire Nation imperialism rather than disillusioned with all the death and rot. 

“I’d say yes,” he says slowly, thoughtfully, “but I cannot be sure they won’t… talk, Your Highness. Things that can filter down—or up, if you will.”

Prince Zuko’s little face furrows in thought and consideration. He nods. 

“Thank you for your honesty, Lieutenant,” he says, and then he adds, “it’s always been my favourite thing about you.” 

That says so much and so little. Jee is nevertheless flattered, and bows. 

“Onto the katas then?” 

“Yes.” The Prince smiles at him, cheeks squishing into mochi. Jee kind of wants to ruffle the kid’s neat hair and then kind of wants to slap himself for being so sappy. “Let’s do it.”

[hualianff]

Untethered (Bonus I) 《III》

In the Shadow of Ghosts — The Newton Brothers

Three years ago….

Tap. Tap.

Xie Lian thinks he imagines it at first. After all, it had been a long day of handling commoners’ affairs, entertaining visiting royalty, and carrying out other menial tasks that are required of him as a prince. Not that he minds too much. Xie Lian thoroughly enjoys helping whoever he can and making the kingdom a better place for his people.

But it is exhausting work, and takes both a mental and physical toll on Xie Lian. This is why more often than not, on busy days like this, he requests the servants to have a bath drawn right before he retires to his room for the night. The steaming hot water mixed with Xie Lian’s favorite-scented bath salts loosen his muscles wonderfully, as well as clear his senses.

In the dimly lit washroom, Xie Lian lets himself unwind. It’s a gradual process, one that his body initially rejects after being so wound up for hours on end. Xie Lian lathers a dollop of lavender oil along his waist-length hair, holding it above the water to let the oil properly soak in before rinsing it under the spout.

Simply put, Xie Lian chalks the strange noise up to his restless mind making him hear things that are not there. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

Besides, who in their right mind would dare break into a prince’s bedroom chambers, where royal guards surround the premise?

Tap.

At the dusk of twilight?

Tap!

Xie Lian is sure no one is crazy about him enough to scale the palace walls to the third level-

Tap.

-except for someone coming to assassinate him!?

Tap tap tap tap tap-

Okay, now that he didn’t imagine. That incessant tapping is very real.

“Goodness me-” Xie Lian mutters, dunking his head under the water in a lame attempt to hastily clean his hair. He then stumbles out of the tub to grab a gown, flinging it around his body to cover himself up.

Luckily, there are no windows in the washroom. The doors also remain shut, providing the prince with the utmost privacy during his bath times, but also serving as a protective barrier at this moment. However, the distinct tapping continues, clearly coming from the other side of the doors.

Against his better judgment, Xie Lian flattens himself against the wall next to the entrance and knocks back.

The tapping stops.

A muffled “Your Highness” follows in response.

Xie Lian’s stomach violently drops at the familiar drawl. It couldn’t be...

“Prince Xianle,” his tempter calls again.

Xie Lian quietly gasps.

The prince cautiously opens the doors leading into his bedroom. He spots a silhouetted figure standing outside on his balcony, and if the build and height were not a familiar sight, Xie Lian would certainly be freaking out more. By subconsciously wrapping the robe tighter around himself–Xie Lian realizes just how flimsy and inappropriate the garment is for others to set eyes on–and approaches the glass doors

He also realizes he does not care.

Xie Lian pulls aside the sheer, golden velvet curtains.

A lanky, strong-built man in dashing red attire greets him through the glass. Xie Lian’s eyes bulge impossibly wide, mouth parting in surprise.

Crimson Rain grins like the devil he is. He doesn’t say anything more, letting the devious look in his eye do the speaking. When the pirate captain lifts a palm to lay flat against the glass door’s surface, Xie Lian feels a growing urge to intertwine it with his own.

Xie Lian places his own palm on the opposite side of the glass. He knows how terrible of an idea it is to enable intruders onto palace grounds, to let Hua Cheng in and the detrimental repercussions awaiting if they were found out.

City of Stars – Yan Chaojie

Th-th-th-th-thump. Hua Cheng drums his fingers upon the glass, raising an expectant eyebrow. Xie Lian stubbornly shakes his head, making a cutting motion at his neck. The pirate seems to take this as a challenge. He can probably see how close Xie Lian is to giving in, just needs one last push to lure the prince in opening the doors to his chambers.

Hua Cheng frames both hands against the glass, blowing hot air in between, effectively fogging up the surface. He draws a massive heart in the condensation. Xie Lian fails to bite back his smile, yet another one of his actions Hua Cheng notices with a smug look.

The pirate proceeds to drag his finger through practiced strokes, writing backward so Xie Lian can read normally on his side. From where he observes, the concentration apparent on Hua Cheng’s face greatly amuses Xie Lian. The characters are still barely legible. Fortunately, Xie Lian has the experience in deciphering Crimson Rain’s infamous scrawl with the intermittent letters he receives.

谢怜 x 三郎

Xie Lian’s face twists in confusion. He immediately unlocks the glass doors, yanking them to the side.

“Who is San Lang?” Xie Lian demands with a pout, forgetting all about his current state of appearance. Hua Cheng smiles into his fist, then graciously enters Xie Lian’s bedroom.

“Another name I go by,” the pirate answers nonchalantly, sliding the door closed behind him. He towers over Xie Lian, dressed in his trademark black heeled-boots with silver chains, whereas Xie Lian’s feet are bare. Plus, Hua Cheng has only continued to grow since the first time they crossed past nearly two years ago. “Should the weather permit fog in the next few days and anyone happens to see, they will not be able to connect San Lang to me.”

“Hua Cheng, your fingerprints are all over the glass,” Xie Lian reminds in exasperation. Hua Cheng frowns when he is addressed, as if he had eaten something not to his liking. He seamlessly replaces it with a mischievous smirk.

“My fingerprints are not documented in the first place,” he says.

“Oh, I see.”

Pirates abide not by any kingdom’s rule but by the laws of the ocean.

Hua Cheng briefly turns to look back at the fading image of their names, his expression calculated but determined once he meets Xie Lian’s gaze again.

“I believe it would also be safest if you referred to me-” Hua Cheng points to the door. “-as such.”

“As what?”

“...”

“How should I call you?”

Hua Cheng narrows his brooding eye.

“Why ask when you already know the answer?”

“Just spit it out, Crimson Rain.” Xie Lian smiles cheekily.

“Your Highness, do not test me.”

Despite his threatening words, Hua Cheng’s posture is stiff, and can even be described as awkward. His arms have obediently remained by his side the entire time, keeping a respectful distance away from Xie Lian. The prince laughs out loud at how constipated Hua Cheng looks.

Without further adieu, Xie Lian throws himself at the taller man. He glomps onto Hua Cheng like a child grabbing onto a stuffed animal, straining his arms to grasp around the pirate’s broad shoulders.

“If San Lang ever wants a hug, he needs only to ask,” Xie Lian admonishes light-heartedly, squishing his cheek against Hua Cheng’s sternum. Hua Cheng chuckles happily, body finally relaxing into the embrace. He winds his arms around Xie Lian’s middle.

“Gege’s benevolence knows no bounds,” Hua Cheng murmurs tenderly. Xie Lian squeezes tighter around him, having no intentions of letting go soon. He missed his pirate dearly, after all. Three months apart had felt like three years. “This San Lang is gladly indebted to His Highness.”

Hua Cheng gently caresses Xie Lian’s head but pauses when he realizes how slippery the prince’s hair is. The pirate rolls the end of a strand between his fingers, droplets of water escaping the tips.

“Gege, did you recently wash?” he asks. Xie Lian shyly nods, containing his blush when Hua Cheng slightly pulls back to take in his satin gown.

“I was bathing when you arrived,” Xie Lian says. With some space between them, Xie Lan realizes with horror that his damp hair created a huge wet spot on the front of Hua Cheng’s robes.

Before he can apologize, Hua Cheng quickly ushers Xie Lian to sit on the cushioned stool in front of his vanity, muttering “please forgive this San Lang for his untimely intrusion” and “allow me to tend to gege’s hair as atonement for such despicable behavior.”

Xie Lian doesn’t know what to say. Hua Cheng’s submissive words render him speechless. It’s a stark contrast to the way Hua Cheng treated him in the beginning, when they were just rivals holding each other at swordpoint. Only in the last year have they been secretly meeting without the pretense of dueling, and even then, Xie Lian only sees Hua Cheng every few months, whenever the pirate happens to sail near Xianle Kingdom. It would be unfathomable for his past self to consider Crimson Rain anything less than a cunning, vicious pirate.

Now, Hua Cheng stands in the Prince of Xianle’s private chambers, offering to brush his hair.

Xie Lian stares wordlessly at Hua Cheng’s reflection. Hua Cheng’s earnest expression does not fade. How absurd it is that a captain of his own pirate ship would reduce himself to the duty of a simple palace servant. Though the thought often crosses his mind, Xie Lian hasn’t turned Hua Cheng in yet. It feels somewhat treasonous to excuse a pirate trespassing and sneaking around on Xianle territory.

Then again, Hua Cheng hasn’t stirred up trouble in public for one whole year. He merely comes back for Xie Lian. This notion alone makes Xie Lian giddy inside.

Xie Lian reaches for a lavishly jeweled comb, then presents it to Hua Cheng. The pirate accepts the comb with a grateful hum, then takes hold of Xie Lian’s wrist to press his lips to the top of his hand.

Xie Lian’s heart sings.

“Would gege be partial to sharing what a day in Prince Xianle’s life looks like?” Hua Cheng asks as he releases Xie Lian’s hand. He begins running the comb through the prince’s long, weighted locks, effortlessly detangling the lower ends. The sensations are heavenly.

“Only if San Lang tells me what a day in Crimson Rain’s life looks like after,” Xie Lian answers with a sluggish tongue. Through the mirror, he sees Hua Cheng smile in satisfaction. Xie Lian slowly closes his eyes as the continuous brushing motions to his hair send pleasant tingles down his spine.

“Whatever His Highness wishes.”

《Bonus II》

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Family of Five- Part 4: Games and Surprises

Calum and Harlowe’s marriage hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been filled with love. This is a collaborative experience with In Sorrow and In Joy. Dad!Calum. Black OC.

CW: Over the course of this series, there are mentions of pregnancy, therapy, and postpartum depression. There is also 18+ Content (Smut). 

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Calum shouldn’t be this mesmerized by the way her skin looks. But he swears she used some kind of sparkly body oil. The glitter sparkles in the sun, her skin looks heavenly. Much more than it normally does. Brown glistening with gold flecks. He wants it coating his tongue. He shifts a little in his seat; he can already feel the strain in his pants. Calum should be concentrating on the menu in front of him. They already spent all morning in bed. She got in late last night from her reading, due to a delay. By the time she home, the last thing she wanted to do was fool around. Calum understood. Harlowe and he snuggled up in bed and she passed out pretty soon after curling into his chest. 

However, the moment she woke up, Calum couldn’t keep his hands off her. She didn’t seem to mind either. It was slow, soft, lazy sex. Calum buried his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the faint sweet smell of her products, a mixture of something floral and coconut. He loved it. He wants to smell it again. He wants to be gentle in the beginning this time. Her moans are so sweet against his ears, but he also wants more. He wants to hear the pleasure ripping over her throat, he wants to see her eyes roll back into her head. Her wants to see her let go. Calum should’ve offered to cook. But Harlowe wanted to try this little brunch spot that just opened and he couldn’t say no to her pout. 

She’ll only be free for a couple more days. Then it’ll be back to school for her, the end of her spring break. With the release of her new book of poetry, she got invited to a book fest. So they didn’t get to spend nearly as much time together as they both anticipated. The kids are with his parents. Moving back to Australia had its perks for sure. Though, Ashton took them for part of a day. Calum received a video of Esha and Ashton competing in DDR. Ashton’s message attached to the video was I got my ass beat by a nine year old. 

Should the entire two days they have together be spent solely in the bedroom, or whatever part of the house they happen to be in? No, Calum knows that. So he shifts again and pulls his gaze to the orange menu in front of him. It’s enough contrast to the blue shirt of his she’s wearing. She stole the royal blue button up form his side of the closet and he can’t say anything. Especially not with the way she’s left a couple top buttons undone and tied it up at the bottom. Slivers of her chest and stomach poke out. He desperately wants to run his fingers over the stretch marks he knows so well already. She looks like a fucking goddess in front of him. Going on a decade of marriage should make things stale. But things have started to heat up for them. She’s off the meds with a doctor’s approval and Calum’s enjoying the way her new energy. 

Calum glances up at her once again. She’s resting her head on the flat of her knuckles, squishing the fat of her left cheek, gaze zeroed on the menu. “You’re thinking about something,” Harlowe grins before lifting her eyes. 

The moment feels like slow motion for Calum. He can see every lash as her lids lift, her dark brown eyes landing on his. “You,” he says softly, “I’m thinking about you.”

“Well I suggest you start thinking about what you want to order. Because you got three seconds before our server comes up.”

Calum’s fucked. He has no clue what’s on this fucking menu. He doesn’t care. When the server shows up, he lets her order first and then takes the same thing. “If I told them to bring me toast and one lemon, you would be so fucked.”

He exhales a laugh. “No, I wouldn’t be. You would be though.”

“I blame the fact that I had two kids. I can eat a house and home.”

“You talk about Te Koha’s appetite, but you’re the real culprit,” he grins.

She levels a finger at him. “You shush!”

“Make me,” he laughs. Harlowe doesn’t miss the teasing lilt to his voice, the small smirk that lifts half of his lips. She’s noticed him shift in his seat several times while she was debating what to order. She knows what he wants. She will not give in that easy. He’ll have to work for it. 

“What are we? 23 again?”

The smile falls again, he exhales a chuckle. He doesn’t like being reminded of that age, much. It’s nothing against her. It’s everything against him. It was him that tried to end what they had. She had just moved to California for her master’s in poetry. They had been something a step above friends with benefits and a step below a real relationship. It didn’t seem to matter much what the label was, but Calum felt himself, dying to call her about every little thing. She was the first person he wanted to talk to in the morning and the last one he wanted to hear at night. He nearly ruined all that too. Over text message. Stupid fucking text message. 

“Hey,” Harlowe says softly, reaching for his hand. 

Calum shakes his head, sniffling. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to mention how stupid he was in that moment, how terrified he was of fucking it up with the best damn person for him that he did nearly fuck it up. “It’s nothing,” he whispers.

“Nothing my black ass,” she counters, tightly holding onto his fingers. “What’s up, baby?”

He’s doing it again. The same behavior that nearly lost her sixteen years ago. “I love you,” he exhales. “A whole fucking lot. Sometimes I guess it scares me what I nearly did; I’m still so sorry about that. I know I was young, and scared, and a whole bunch of other adjectives, but I was so utterly in love with you, I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want to fuck it up. I still don’t want to fuck this up. I’m scared I will.”

Harlowe fights to keep the sigh from escaping her. She’s forgiven him. She knows getting Calum to open up requires more patience than she sometimes has. But God, does she wish he’d stop beating himself up over it. What words are left for her to say? “I’ve forgiven you, Calum. It’s time you forgive yourself. You’re human. You’re going to fuck up. I don’t think less of you.”

He nods. She’s right. He really ought to forgive himself. But the words to that message are burned into his retinas some nights and days. We shouldn’t do this; I shouldn’t do this. I can’t do this. You’re too good for me and I’m no good for you. I’ll ruin you. “But how? How do I forgive myself for something like that?”

“You admit it was a mistake. One mistake, amongst a lifetime of them. One you learned from. Clearly. Because we did it. We’re doing it. We’re literally married.”

Her inflection, her laugh, makes him crack a shaky smile. He looks down to the diamond ring. They made it, they are making it each and every day together. “Sorry for bringing it up. I just...sometimes I really get hit with how much of an idiot younger me was.”

“You live; you learn. Younger me was an idiot too. The girl I told off on twitter--yeah, not my most shining moment.”

Calum chuckles, head dropping a little remembering the rant she went on. “You didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture about me either.”

“Look, I was literally months pregnant with Koha and exhausted. The last thing I wanted to do was sit back and have thousands of people judging me-us- for not marrying sooner.”

“Valid. But you didn’t have to mention the one night I partied too hard and got sick, now did you?”

“Okay, but who cleaned up your vomit that night too? Off your own fucking floor? Me. Who took Duke to the vet the next day because you literally were lying under your sheets in the dark? Me.”

Calum groans. It wasn’t a shining moment for anyone. He was only going out for a few hours. He hadn’t had a drink in a while, keeping it out of the house while Harlowe was pregnant. It was a guy’s night tradition and Harlowe told him he should go out for just a little fun. So he did. He promised to have his phone on him, volume at it’s max and on vibrate incase she needed him. She was about six months pregnant, so it she wasn’t terribly far along. Just one night out with one beer, turned in a quick too many shots in succession, a woozy Uber back home and Calum promptly vomiting on the kitchen floor trying to get some water in his system. 

Harlowe heard him from the bedroom, pushed herself out of bed and wordlessly cleaned it up. Calum can’t remember much after that but as Harlowe recounts, he almost cried because she was pregnant and he was the one acting like a child. Every other word out of his mouth was sorry because he hadn’t intended for it to get like this. Harlowe couldn’t carry him like before to the bedroom, so she shushed him and got him on the sofa. He made it only to the bed later, after waking with a killer headache. 

The server returns with their food before he can defend himself. As Calum dunks a piece of french toast into the syrup, he speaks, “Still, it didn’t need to be put on social media.”

“Well, what do you want me to do, go back in time? That science hasn’t exactly been perfected yet,” she huffs. “Besides, we didn’t have to be married at that particular moment either. All the shit we had been through, we were living at our own pace. It still makes me mad to think that some people thought you had even proposed because you felt obligated to.”

 Calum takes a strawberry off his plate and holds it out to her. “Eat this. Clearly I didn’t marry you out of obligation.”

“Strawberries aren’t going to make me calmer,” Harlowe retorts. 

Pulling up from his chair, Calum stretches across the table and drops the berry into her mouth. “Just shut up and eat. Food will make you calmer, second only to my cock,” he adds the second sentence in a whisper. Just loud enough for her to here. 

It doesn’t even shock her. Instead she smiles around her chewing. “So that’s how it is?”

Calum raises an eyebrow. “That’s how it is.”

Harlowe nods. She won’t let this go. She was going to go grocery shopping tomorrow. But now, she’s going to make him suffer a trip. Two can play this game. She plays just a little bit better too. 

Brunch finished, and bill paid, Harlowe taps her fingers on the table. “We should probably get some groceries.”

“You mean tomorrow?” He trails his fingers up the skin of her forearm. He’s waiting to see that shake of her spine, hear the chatter of her teeth. 

“I mean we’re already out now.”

Calum doesn’t let up, dragging his nails over the skin of her elbow joint. He watches her carefully, but he gets nothing. Though he can see a rigid line across her shoulders. She’s tensing, so she won’t give him a reaction. “You’re playing dirty,” he spits. It’s some pretend offense, but some of it is real. How dare she?

“Let’s go while we’re out, yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah, let’s go while we’re out.”

The actual grocery shopping goes by smoothly. Calum stirs the basket while Harlowe takes charge. It’s routine, especially if they bring the kids. Both of them like to bounce around and ask about items not on the grocery list. Sometimes they cave on the small things, but it works much faster when one of the takes lead over the trip. It’s as Harlowe browses through the choices of rice that Calum seizes his opportunity. He slips a hand into the back pocket of her jeans, resting his chin on her shoulder. 

“Can I help you sir?” Harlowe grins. Calum doesn’t miss her sharp inhale before speaking. She keeps a good game face, but he knows her buttons. 

“Just enjoying the view,” he mutters, kissing her cheek. 

A giggle escapes her before she shrugs out of the embrace. She tosses a box into the basket. Calum sighs and starts behind her again. He looks over the produce, onions and bell peppers before finding ones that satisfy him. While he ties off the bag, Harlowe walks up behind him, patting his butt and giving it a squeeze. Calum jolts before looking over his shoulder to the bright grin on her face. “You’re so proud of yourself, huh?” he asks as she scurries away. 

He catches her on the wine aisle. Initially he thought she might be down the candy aisle. But when faced with the severe lack of blue shirts and his beautifully brown wife down the aisle, he knows wine is the second place to check. She’s not drinking right now, but she still likes to keep a bottle in the house for guests. He finds her holding up two different bottles. “I can’t choose. Help, please,” she whines, a pout pulling down her pouty lips. 

“How long have you been holding those bottles?”

“For a while, waiting for you to find me.”

Calum’s laughter hits the empty air of the grocery store loudly. He inhales sharply before his laugh leaves him again. “Are you serious? Put both of them in the cart you fucking goof.”

She sets the bottles down, with a sigh. “Thanks. They were getting heavy.”

Walking around the cart, Calum holds his arms out. Only his wife, only Harlowe. They embrace and Calum still vibrates with his laughter. Before releasing the hug, Calum kisses her forehead, sliding his arms down her waist, resting on the curve to her ass. He lets his hands linger there, kneading softly, fingers playing at the loops of her jeans. 

She shoves his hips. “I’m not going to cave, not here,” Harlowe mutters. She sounds a little breathless and that’s all the reaction Calum needs. 

He grabs her chin gently, silver bracelet sliding down his slender wrist. “Oh yes, you will,” he commands. Harlowe bites down her lip, fighting her throat to keep the moan down. She can swallow it, keep it at bay. The grip tightens. He needs this. He needs her to cave, because God is he seconds from caving himself, seconds from falling to his knees in the middle of this fucking grocery store to beg for her, for her body, for her sighs, for her moans, for her hands on his skin. 

She wrestles her chin away, exhaling hard. Defying him isn’t going to end well for her. Normally defying means punishments. But he hasn’t dished out any of those in a long time. Harlowe’s toying to see if he will. Calum probably won’t. Not after her spiral from Esha, he’s been extremely gentle during sex. She’s been good too with it, except for now. Now she’s tired of it. She wants to let go finally. 

The walk to the check out is silent. As they load up all the bags into the trunk, it’s silent. It’s not until both doors are closed and seat belts are on does anyone speak. Calum starts the car, before turning to Harlowe. “What was that?”

“Disobedience,” she answers, staring straight ahead. “Which means punishment.”

Calum exhales hard. “Baby, are you sure? I don’t-I don’t want you to feel rushed into anything. I’m okay with taking things slow.”

“I’m tired of slow.”

“We can’t do some of the stuff we used to. I-I can’t just yet. I’m worried.”

“I understand. I’m not asking to dive in head first. I just am tired of slow.” Harlowe watches as Calum nods, but runs his hands through his hair. He looks too hesitant for comfort. He won’t do it, she figures. “Never mind, forget I mentioned it.”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Calum lifts her chin. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to touch you or have sex with you. If you’re tired of slow, you’re tired of slow. You have every right to be.”

“But you said you were worried.”

“Worried, yes. Against, no. I’m cautious. It took almost a year to get back to where we are. I don’t want to push you too fast.” Undoing his seatbelt, Calum stretches over the middle console, brushing his nose over hers. “But you’re tired of slow. So we’ll ratched it up a notch.” He seals her mouth with his. She wastes no time, parting her lips for him. Harlowe is eager to gain more than just slow, and gentle. She wants something to set her skin on fire. 

Calum doesn’t slip his tongue into her mouth. Instead he pulls away. She whines, pushing forward even with the seatbelt pulling her back. He chuckles, patting her cheek. “This is what happens when you disobey.”

Even though a whine falls past her throat, Harlowe grins. This is it. This is the feeling she missed as her fingertips start to buzz. The drive home is silent between them, besides the low hum of the radio. Calum tries to keep his hands to himself, tries to punish her like she’s asking. He just can’t help himself anymore. “Unbutton your pants,” he orders at a red light. 

“What?”

“Unbutton your jeans and get them down as far as you can,” he states again before glancing over to her. 

Harlowe lifts her hips, slowly, popping the button her light denim jeans. She wiggles them down, suddenly very aware that a lot of people could be watching her in that moment. Her underwear selection for the day isn’t the most exciting, a simple pair of black cotton underwear with lace trimming. “What if people see?” she asks. 

“Then they shouldn’t be looking. No one is watching, though.” Calum looks over again. The denim is about half way down her thighs, though she’s struggling to get them down more. “That’s good. Now sit on your hands.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just do as I’m saying, baby.”

Harlowe pulls her hips again and settles down on her hands. The moment her hands are covered by her bottom, Calum slips hand over her thighs. There’s still some firmness to them, but two children have made her soft. The cellulite is harder to miss, but the ridges underneath Calum’s fingertips are enticing. He really wants to sink his teeth into her thighs. As the urge strengthens, he squeezes at her flesh. Not enough to cause pain, but hard enough to soothe the lust. She exhales next to him, shaky.

 “Scared?” Calum asks. 

“No, horny, turned on.”

Dragging his knuckles up her thigh, he brushes over her clothed sex. The thin material is soaked already. He hums at the feeling and pushes the cotton to the side. He can feel her dripping onto his hands. Calum presses the pad of his thumb to a clit. She jolts, a hiss falling from her lips. “Did I say you could move?” Calum asks. 

“Sorry,” she sighs. 

Calum removes his thumb, sliding two fingers into her. She clenches around him, but doesn’t move this time. “Good girl,” he praises, curling them up into her. Harlowe releases another shuddery breath. Calum works his fingers inside her slowly. They’re about two minutes form the house. But he’s going to milk this. Harlowe doesn’t move in her seat but her grip on the door is deadly.

All the color is starting to drain from her skin around her knuckles. She moans occasionally, but mostly tries to keep those sounds contained too. Calum turns into the driveway of the house, putting the car in park. He pulls his fingers out of her. Harlowe starts to whine, but before the sound can fully escape her, Calum’s unbuckled himself and leaning across the way. He kisses down her jaw, inserting his fingers again. 

Her breathe is ghosting over his cheek, and his exhales are blowing right over hers. “Cum for me.” Calum’s voice is strained, desperate. Almost pained, like he’s on the edge of breaking down too, watching Harlowe’s heaving increase. 

“Fuck, shit,” she cries. She’s getting there. Her pelvic muscles are tightening around him. Her hips are lifting, her curls are pressed so deep into the headrest, if she doesn’t leave an indent, he’ll be shocked. 

“You’re so close,” he coaxes, gently grazing his teeth over his skin. Right on the cusp of her orgasm, Calum considers pulling away, making her fall apart around nothing. He wants to ruin it. And that’s what he does, right on the edge of her cry, Calum pulls away from her completely. 

Harlowe swears, slamming her palms against the door handle. Her cry is mangled. When she opens her eyes, Calum can see tears on the falling down her cheeks. With his clean hand he wipes them away. “You motherfucker,” she heaves, turning into his touch. “I hate you, a tiny bit.”

“You okay?”

She laughs, “I mean on the one hand, that was on track to be the best orgasm of my life and on the other hand, you ruined it, so...you know I don’t know.”

Calum brings his coated finger to his mouth, sucking them clean. He pulls his digits from his mouth with a pop. “Clean yourself up. There’s still ice cream and sorbet to put up.” 

Due to two kids already, they keep the vehicles well stocked with tissues and wipes. Calum hands her the packet after taking one for himself. They’re baby wipes. Harlowe reaches behind Calum’s seat and unhooks the small plastic bag they leave in for trash. He is mindful to let her get her pants back up before opening his door. 

Calum grabs two bags from the trunk when Harlowe walks around and pushes on his shoulder. The smirk on his face let’s him know everything is good. “You asked for it,” Calum counters with a pause. “Don’t get mad at me, doll.”

Harlowe huffs next to him. Calum giggles, hurrying into the house with his bags. She hates that pet name. The first time he used it, she immediately ceased him from using it ever again. He only pulls it out in instances like this, just to annoy her, to rile her up. Harlowe storms after him, careful of the paper bags in her hands. “Calum Thomas Hood!” she bellows into the house. 

Pepper halts in her run to greet Harlowe. She knows that tone. “Pepper,” Harlowe coos. “I wasn’t talking to you angel. I’m sorry.” 

Harlowe drops her bags and holds out her hands. Pepper continues over, rubbing in close to Harlowe’s embrace. Sissy and Jack come trotting over too. She scratches at their heads too. Calum rounds the corner of the kitchen, prepared for her fierce gaze, but she’s too preoccupied by the dogs. He seizes this moment and brings in the last of the grocery before locking up the car and the house. 

“Don’t think I’m not still pissed about you calling me doll just because I’m playing with the dogs.”

“You know you love it,” he teases, his sing song cadence making Harlowe melt at the sound, but also grow a bit more frustrated. She hates the term, but somehow, it’s much less grating hearing it from his lips. It’s her more Southern upbringing. She is no one’s doll, no one’s play thing. She’s not plastic waiting to be structured. But for Calum she would be. For him, she would be a doll-the most perfect one too. 

“I love you babies. But Papa Bear will eat my sorbet if I don’t hide it,” Harlowe teases.

“I bought a separate pint for me, so you shush,” Calum shouts with a chuckle. 

Harlowe kisses the top of Jack’s head. “He’ll still eat some of mine.” She takes over putting away the last of the items, not even realizing Calum has disappeared until something cold touches her exposed stomach. She jumps into Calum’s chest, he snakes his arm even further around her waist. If he’s wearing rings, Harlowe swears she’s going to lose it. She glances down to see a bracelet. A new one in addition to the silver chain from earlier. Her gaze travels up from his wrist and sure enough his fingers adorn several of his favorite rings. His left hand slides up the back of her, the cold metal biting at her neck. 

“Fuck,” she whispers. The rest of her sentence dies on her lips as he brings his hand around to her throat. There’s no pressure, he’s just cupping the front of her neck, thumb ghosting over her skin. The paper towels fall from Harlowe’s slack grasp. 

“Pick those up, doll. Put them where they belong. I’m not doing anything.”

But he’s doing everything to make Harlowe turn into putty. She bends over, grabbing the  still wrapped paper towel roll from the floor, ass lined up with his crotch. Rolling up to stand, she pops onto her tiptoes to put the roll with the others on the shelf of the pantry. Her butt pops out as she leans forward, sliding it next to other waiting roll. The pantry door closes and before she can blink, Calum grabs her hips and spins her around. As he takes a step forward, she takes one back, pressing into the woodend door. 

His fingers trail across her stomach, pulling at the knot in his shirt. It falls open, her cropped camisole rests high on her waist. Calum presses his palm into her stomach, not too hard, but enough. She holds tightly to his wrist, tugging him even closer to her. “Tell me what you’re waiting on?” She asks, grabbing the back of his neck. Her lips ghost along his jaw, up to his ear. “You’re moving too slow.”

He doesn’t want to hurt her or scare her. Calum knows, however, he has to act fast. He pushes down the shirt from her shoulders, kissing across her shoulders. Once it falls into a heap at their feet, he pulls away, undoing his belt and pulling it from the loops. He pops the button on her jeans, pulling her back into him. “You won’t be saying that again,” he warns before turninf her back around. 

Harlowe braces against the pantry door. Calum unzips her jeans before pushing them down her hips. It’s not until he starts kissing the skin exposed as he undresses her that Harlowe suddenly finds her stomach filled with butterflies. Her body has changed so much since having kids. Nothing feels firm anymore to her. It scares her to think maybe she’s not as attractive as she used to be to him. 

Calum can sense something happening in her. He bites at her right cheek. “Stay with me, doll.”

“I’m jiggly though,” she sighs. Calum pushes up from his knees, standing at the back of her. His erection brushing against her. The sensation shocks her, her core clenches. Maybe she’s wrong. 

“You feel that?” he asks, pressing harder into her. 

“Yes,” she moans. He feels painfully hard against her. 

“Jiggly or not, you are my wife. You’ve blessed me with two children and three dogs. You are stunning and incredible. Besides,” he grins, running his hand over her ass. “I like the jiggle. A lot more for me to play with. But I can show you a lot better than I talk about how attracted I still am to you.”

Harlowe chuckles, turning her head to look at him. His pupils are blown, she can barely see the brown in his eyes. The beam to his grin makes ease some of her worries. “May I?” he questions, fingers trailing over the edges of her underwear. 

“Please,” she breathes. 

Calum sinks back to his knees, kissing over the back of her thighs, before pulling her completely of her jeans. Her panties are next to go before Calum settles between her legs. She pushes off the door some more. “Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so pretty, ya know? It’s a gorgeous sight you this wet for me.”

Harlowe can’t speak before his mouth is on her, sucking hard. “Ah, shit,” she shudders at the first contact, fist slamming into the pantry door. He hums at the curse. He grabs at her thighs to keep her stance wide enough for him. Her body quivers above him. Harlowe can barely get her breath. It’s taking all her core strength to stay upright as Calum laps at her. The sounds are lewd, the slurping, the swears, the moans. 

It’s a bad idea to take a hand off the wall, but Harlowe pushes up and looks down at Calum, his tongue swirling around her clit, flicking it. She grabs a fistful of his curls and tugs on them. He releases a moan, vibrating against her. Her stomach is on fire. “I-” she starts before her orgasm crashes over her. She groans, striking the door again with a closed fist. Finally, after what feels like forever, Harlowe exhales hard before gaining her breath. “Oh, fuck,” she heaves, resting her forehead into the door.

Calum teases her entrance with his fingers. Harlowe hisses above him. His palm is soft and warm against her thighs. “Shh, it’s okay,” one hand soothes her, the other still dancing around her opening. 

“I can’t. Please.”

“Okay,” he agrees pulling away from her. Sliding out from beneath her, Calum stands. Shedding his shirt and pants, he guides her upstairs. Harlowe watches the muscles of his back work beneath his smooth brown skin. Inside the bedroom before Calum and turn around, she drags her nails across his shoulders and down his back. Her lips leaves wet kisses over his skin. Calum shiver at the love bites she leaves. Snaking her arms around, she feels over his chest and stomach, fingers playing at the chains around his neck. 

“You’re moving too slow,” he teases. It’s mostly to prevent him from buckling right here. His knees are weak. With a laugh, she pushes him towards the bed. Calum climbs onto the mattress. As he settles and turns around, Harlowe’s already shed the camisole, arms now behind her back as she works to unhook the bra. “Should’ve let me do it,” he laughs, though it fades away as the cups fall away from her body. 

“Got anything else smart to say?” 

He shakes his head, watching her saunter to the edge of the bed. She crawls up his body, stopping occasionally to leave kisses on his thighs. He closes his has as his stomach tenses. Her lips and kisses are so soft, he swears he’s going to explode. His body feels like it’s buzzing. Her fingers curl into the band of his boxer briefs. He doesn’t refute the action, lifting his hips and letting her take them completely off him. 

She settles high on him, hovering right over her cock. Calum opens his eyes, watching the smirk on her face. The warmth and wetness slide right over him. “Shit,” he huffs, watching her slide up and down his length. “Don’t do this to me, doll. Please don’t.”

Harlowe stretches forward, gently taking the lobe of his ear between her teeth. “Call me doll one more time and see what happens.”

Calum runs his fingers up her back and sides. He’s silent, waiting for her to pull back in satisfaction. He knows she will if he remains quiet and then he can go in for the kill. Sure enough, she does, Harlowe tugs on his ear one last time before pulling away. That’s when he wraps his hand around her throat, squeezing. “What was that, doll?”

The hold isn’t too tight, but it stops Harlowe in her tracks. He was just going soft on her, just to give her some semblance of control to not freak her out. Calum watches her carefully, waiting for the gulp she usually does when she’s uncomfortable. But it never comes. She keeps her eyes trained on Calum. “Sorry,” she whispers. 

“Sorry what?”

“You might have to remind me. I forget.” The statement seems believable until she cracks a smile. That’s when Calum knows she’s acting out. He brings his second hand around her throat, and pulls her face down towards him. 

“I’ll remind you,” he growls. “You’re going to take my cock. Don’t breathe. Don’t think. Just bounce.”

Harlowe lifts up, lining him up to her entrance. For a brief second she considers maybe they should use a condom. Doctors have told her getting pregnant a third time isn’t impossible it’s just improbable. They’ve already agreed to try for a third child, even if the odds seem impossible. They go without condoms sometimes. It’s usually discussed beforehand. “Would you like me to put a condom on?” he asks, grip already loosening around her neck. 

Harlowe, with a rush of boldness, presses his hand back and slides down his length. “No,” she moans. “No, I don’t.”

Calum tightens the grip. “You’re still not addressing properly.”

Harlowe pulls herself up before taking him back in. She gives no verbal response, focused slowly on the bubble of heat starting. Calum watches her bouncing on his cock. It’s a sight to behold, the curls that shake with her moment, the way her breast bounce with her effort too. A moan slips over her lips, it’s tight and quiet from the pressure around her throat. Calum takes one hand away from her throat, wrapping it around her waist. He pulls her up and close to his chest, before driving his hips up into her. Harlowe braces herself above his hand, “Shit. God, don’t stop.”

“You will address me correctly, doll.” He gives a purposefully hard thrust, before slowly sliding out. 

Harlowe whines at the lost of her orgasm. “No, please, I’m sorry.”

“Then address me properly. Sorry, what?”

“I’m sorry sir,” she cries, eyes begging him. “Please don’t stop, Sir.”

“That’s more like it,” he smiles, thrusting back into her. The sound of relief that leaves her makes Calum almost cum. Harlowe sighs above him, the sound a little high in pitch. Calum removes his hand from her throat, slowing. Harlowe takes over, sliding up and down his length. With a nipple in his mouth, Calum moans. He’s missed this. He’s craved seeing her like this. A thin sheet of sweat covers her forehead, her knees pop just a little. But it doesn’t stop her, she chases down her orgasm. 

“Shit,” she groans, clenching around him. 

Calum runs his fingers over the side of her face, moans falling from her lips before he can catch them. “That’s right, just take all of it. Just bounce, baby.”

“I’m close, sir,” she warns. Calum’s own orgasm is still far down the line. He prays she can hold out for one last orgasm. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let go.” 

“I want you to cum though. I need it,” she whines. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll get there. Give me this one. Cum around my cock, pretty girl. Please.” Pressing his thumb to her clit, he rubs it in circles. Even though Harlowe has slowed the added sensation is too much. She cries out, spasming around Calum’s cock. 

Calum holds her close, rubbing her back through the haze. “God,” he whispers. “You ought to see how beautiful you are when you cum.”

Harlowe chuckles into his skin, though it’s hot and clammy, it smells like home. “Mirror’s right over there,” she points, still nestled onto his cock. 

“Don’t give me any ideas, pretty girl.” It’s silent for a minute as Calum gently scratches at her scalp beneath the coils wrapping around his fingers. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have one more in you?”

She might, it looks slim. Her legs already feel pretty unstable. “Would I be on my hands and knees?”

“No, we can arrange it so you’re not on your hands and knees.”

“Then, yeah, I got one more in me,” she laughs, sitting up.

“Lay on your back, baby.” Harlowe compiles. Calum hovers a for a second, drinking in the sight of her. “I know what you’re thinking. No, it’s not going to be slow. So strap in.”

His first thrust is easy, an adjustment. But three strokes later, her legs are on his shoulder, the bed rocking into the wall. Harlowe hisses a little, reaching up for him. Calum meets her with a kiss, still holding her thighs spread open. His thrust become so hard that her head falls ips over the edge of the bed. But she’s in direct view of the mirror. As the blood rushes to her head, she can see Calum’s gaze stuck on her, not even the reflection of her, just him gazing down at her. She chuckles until the pleasure catches up with her again. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks breathless as his hips continue to snap into her. 

“Someone’s working hard to put a baby in me.”

Calum grins, bending over again. He kisses her, even when he’s rough she’s still finding something to giggle about. He trails his tongue down her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat and the taste of juices still left from before mixing on his tongue. His stomach clenches. He’s not going to last much longer. But he’d like to give her that third true orgasm that he promised. So he slows a little, thrusting deeper, but slower. He circles her clit, watching as her voice comes out strained with her swear. “You gonna give me another one? You said you had one more in you,” Calum taunts.

“Faster, I need your fingers faster, please.”

He kisses on the underside of her chin. “Hmm, anything for you, baby.” Calum speeds up his fingers, feeling his own orgasm approaching faster. He won’t make it after her, but he can still make sure she sees her end. Harlowe grips tightly at his bicep, holding her head up from the edge. It hurts how close she is at this point. “God, fuck, Oh God,” she pants.

“It’s-fuck- it’s okay, baby.” Calum’s orgasm crashes over him. He knows his moaning pretty loudly in her ear, but the sound leaves him abruptly. He doesn’t still, still thrusting through the high. 

“Calum, fuck,” Harlowe growls, voice thick with something like pain and pleasure. She clenches around him, his name falling from her lips again and again like a prayer. 

Post clean up, Harlowe lays on her back, legs thrown over Calum’s waist. His fingers dance over her skin. He can see a few reddish purple marks blossoming on her skin. “Do they hurt?” he asks. 

“No. They don’t ever really hurt unless I repeatedly hit that area.”

“I know. I’m just making sure.” He takes her spoon and scoops himself some of the peach mango sorbet. 

“Hey!” she reprimands. 

“I’m too lazy to get mine from downstairs. It’s too many steps.”

“It’s a flight and a half.”

“Still too many.” Harlowe finishes the last few spoonfuls, setting the bowl on the nightstand. Calum rolls his eyes. “I only wanted the one spoonful.” As they settle back on the screen, Harlowe wraps one arm around her stomach. Something feels different. A good different. 

__

Harlowe’s hands shake. She ought to take this pregnancy test. That’s the only way to know for sure. But she can’t do it. She reschedules her OBGYN appointment too. Until next week. Next week she’ll have her bearings together. Her head will be on straighter and she won’t be thinking about what the hell she and Calum are going to do with a newborn. They’ve long gotten rid of the diapers, and the cribs. Does she really have it in her to have another baby this late?

Instead of going to her OBGYN, she ends up buying tampons and more sorbet. It’s a light period, but still a period. She should’ve known that she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant again. Part of her feels like an idiot for even thinking it was a possibility. Doctor’s told her chances would be slim. So why think that she would the special case? 

Calum knocks on the bedroom door. After work, Harlowe mentioned being exhausted, so she took a nap. “Babe, dinner’s ready,” he says softly shaking her awake. Harlowe stretches after sitting up. Calum looks at his wife. She’s mentioned being tired most days. Her appetite isn’t much of a strange from normal, though the last few weeks she’s been extra sensitive about the smeell of seafood. The same thing when she was pregnant with Esha. 

“You ought to go to that appointment, babe.”

“For them to tell me I’m broken. I know that already.”

“Maybe you aren’t. But you can’t stand the smell of seafood anymore, you’re craving nuts again. You’re tired. I think you might be pregnant.” He doesn’t want to talk to loudly, doesn’t want to give himself false hope. But the thought keeps nagging him. “You’re spotting as well. I don’t think they’re full on periods.”

Harlowe nods. Her silence speaks volumes. Calum doesn’t pushes it. He takes her hand and they walk downstairs to the dining room. “How was your nap?” Te Koha asks. 

She kisses the top of his head. “Good, very good.” She settles in at the table next to Esha. She presses several kisses to her cheek.

“Mom,” Esha huffs. Calum sits across from her, watching the way she devours her dinner. Something is definitely up. Over the weekend, Calum steals a moment to call his mother. Joy warn him he has to do something even if it means dragging her to the office. On Tuesdays, Harlowe’s classes are finished early. So he knows he has to schedule it then, but he feels horrible forcing her. Joy, on the other hand, does not feel the same way. 

Her office hours through, Harlowe starts packing her backpack when a knocks rings out. The door opens and Joy pokes her head through. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise,” Harlowe grins, walking over to embrace her mother-in-law.

“I needed some help with something and figured I’d pop by to see if you were free.”

“Yeah classes are done, but Calum was coming to pick me up,” Harlowe states. “Let me call him, he might even be in the parking lot.”

“I didn’t see his car. But I’m not sure where he parked though.”

Harlowe gathers the last of her things and pulls out her phone. Calum answers on the second ring. “Hey, I’m leaving now. I know I’m late. Got hung up in the studio.”

“Hey. Don’t worry. Your mom’s here. She needs help. I’m going to go with her.”

“Okay. Tell her I said hi.”

“Calum says hi,” Harlowe relays moving the phone. Joy grins.

“So sorry again, babe. Lost track of time. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay. The kids catch the bus, so it’s all good.” They hang up shortly after and the two woman start towards the parking lot. Joy watches Harlowe closely as they walk to the car. She can feel it; Harlowe’s pregnant again. She’s not sure if it scares Harlowe to have another child and that’s why she refuses to believe it. But whatever the case it is, clearly the woman knows something is up. She avoids deli meats, she doesn’t drink alcohol, has quit caffeine all together, everything she should be doing in pregnancy. She knows. But why does she not believe?

During the ride, Harlowe notes the strange route. But feels a bit rude questioning Joy. When they pull up in front of the small beige brick building, Harlowe sighs. “I should’ve figured.”

“You need to know. It’s been nearing what ten, eleven weeks at this point? You’re starting to show.”

Harlowe snaps her head over to the older woman. “Show? I’m two ounces short of being a keg. I am not showing; it’s not baby fat.”

A soft grin plays over Joy’s lips, all too similar to Calum’s. She doesn’t mean weight wise. It’s written across the glow in her skin. She is showing without even realizing.  “Then let’s find out, yeah?” The women climb out of the car and Joy takes Harlowe’s hand. “I know. You are pregnant though.”

It’s not nerve wrecking when she signs in her appointment. It’s not nerve wrecking waiting for the nurse to call her back. Harlowe doesn’t have nerve, listing the symptoms. It’s only when they break out the sheet to protect her skirt that the nerves start. Harlowe clutches Joy’s hand when they doctor slips on the gloves. She is pregnant. She knows it. She just didn’t want to be wrong. She couldn’t stand the thought that she the test would come back negative. That all those things were just her brain thinking, wanting a baby so bad, it played this trick on her. Harlowe stares up at the ceiling. She can’t bare to watch a blank screen. 

Thump-thump, thump-thump echoes around the room. Harlowe’s eyes sting with tears. That’s all she needs to hear. “Call Calum, please?” she cries to Joy. “Please. He needs to hear. Can she please call my husband?”

The doctor grins and a nurse exits the room. “Give us one moment, okay?”

Harlowe wipes her tears, staring at the monitor. The door creaks open again. She turns to the sound to see Calum. He walks far enough inside and have the door close, but the heartbeat echoing makes him stop. That’s his baby’s heartbeat. Tears slip down his cheek and Harlowe laughs. “God, we’re both a hot mess of tears.”

“You’re pregnant?” he breathes. 

She nods, the stiff paper of the bed crinkles under her movement. “I am. That’s our baby.”

Calum rushes over, burying his face into her shoulder. His tears are hot even through the cotton off her t-shirt. Inhaling deeply, Calum looks to the screen again. That’s his baby. His miracle, his next little one. The joy coursing through his veins lights his bones on fire. Though the late nights are tortuous, and changing diapers are not ideal again, after nearly seven years of not having to do it, he is fucking ecstatic. 

Harlowe has been dying for a third baby and he wanted nothing more than to give that to her. It was out of his hands, it was up to the numbers, gods, and chances. But he prayed for it, he begged to the high heavens to give this to her. She needed a good thing in her corner after her long battle. He knew she didn’t take him for granted, but there’s nothing quite like knowing something is sort of within reach and never being able to reach it. Until now. 

Calum turns his gaze, though blurry and watery, down to Harlowe. He wraps an arm around her hair and head, kissing her forehead repeatedly. “I love you,” he breathes into her skin. “And this baby.”

Harlowe holds to his bicep, pressing her face into the flesh and dense muscle. “I love you too. I’m so sorry I didn’t go sooner. I am so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay. You were smart about your diet. You knew. And now you can believe it. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“But what if I wasn’t. What if I fucked up.”

“Then it would be a mistake. One among a lifetime of many. We would’ve handled whatever came our way, together. Right?”

“Always together.”

Back in the car, Harlowe hold the print out of the sonogram, gently rubbing her fingers over it. She was smart and Calum would always be right by her side. “So, are we good on babies?” Calum asks. 

“God, yes. No more, please.”

Calum laughs, grabbing her knee. “I have a consultation next week.”

They’ve weighed their options. Calum’s against her going in major surgery. Though Harlowe’s response is that a vasectomy is still surgery too. “What if I wasn’t pregnant?”

“Then I would’ve cancelled it, unless we were done trying.”

“Well, I’m done trying,” she laughs. 

“Should I schedule before or after the birth?”

“Before,” she whispers. Though worry flashes through her veins, she feels like waiting won’t help her. She prays nothing happens in this pregnancy, but part of her is tired. If she’s not meant to have a third child, then she’s not meant to birth a third child. There are still other options. 

“You’re worrying again. None of that. That’s our little one growing in you. It’s all going to be okay.”

She nods, though he can’t see it. It’ll all be okay.

[pengiesama]

Dianxia Dotes Upon the Demon King (Fic, TGCF, HC/XL)

Title: Dianxia Dotes Upon the Demon King Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Pairing: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian

Summary:

After Hua Cheng's return, Xie Lian is determined to aid in his recovery, and maybe spoil him a bit in the process.

Hua Cheng is more than eager to accept, but could do without his obnoxious sword's interference.

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

It had taken eight hundred years and one more for this sea to be filled. Filled with a collection of twigs and pebbles, cracked rice bowls and dented pots, of bobbing lanterns to light the path leading to the only destination Xie Lian cared to know: the tight embrace of Hua Cheng’s arms.

He had so much to tell his San Lang, so much to catch him up on, so many things he’d stored away in his heart to loose upon this day whenever it came. But he also had so much to hear from San Lang, and so many kisses to give. It was far too much for a little old god like himself to bear, and he felt his heart ache from the wondrous strain of carrying it.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmured. “You’re trembling.”

He was indeed, from everything altogether, but the chill night air was a factor to be sure. Xie Lian stilled Hua Cheng’s hand as it moved to slide his red cloak off his shoulders as an offering. He laced those fingers with his own, and guided them both upright.

His little mountain hut was humble, to be sure, but it was certainly more comfortable than rolling around in the grass all night. The bed-mat was – the bed-mat was comfortable enough, and – and just maybe big enough for two, if they pressed close…

Xie Lian felt his ears glowing red, and tilted his chin up to steal a glance at Hua Cheng. (Did he have to steal them, still? Would San Lang now allow him to take his fill?)

Hua Cheng’s handsome face was no longer smiling that sweet smile. He was instead glaring at the stewpot. Or maybe the individual stirring it.

“So that’s where you went,” Hua Cheng said darkly.

E-ming continued to stir the stew in the pot with his blade, the bells attached to his tasseled pommel jingling with each circuit made. He pretended to ignore Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian smiled at Hua Cheng brightly, and Hua Cheng’s sour look faltered.

“E-ming was all alone when you went away, and I couldn’t just let him fend for himself…” Xie Lian explained. “He’s kept me company. And is so handy around the house, just like San Lang!”

E-ming’s eye slit open, and he fixed Hua Cheng with a smug look. Hua Cheng’s sourness came back full force.

“Gege must have suffered so this past year,” Hua Cheng said. “But he needn’t trouble himself any longer. San Lang will handle all the chores from now on.”

E-ming gave a dangerous-sounding rattle, like a snake about to strike. He and Hua Cheng locked eye(s), ready to defend their claim to wait upon Xie Lian hand and foot by any means necessary –

“Absolutely not!” Xie Lian scolded. “San Lang won’t be straining himself any time soon, not after re-incorporating! In fact, he’s already done too much, too much!”

In one determined, fluid motion, Xie Lian hoisted Hua Cheng off his feet and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

“Gathering all those lanterns, climbing up this mountain,” Xie Lian continued fretfully. “You need your rest, and I won’t have you exhausting yourself for my sake when I’m perfectly capable of chopping wood and sweeping the floor on my own.”

Xie Lian crossed the room and easily tossed Hua Cheng onto the bed-mat – which he’d recently gathered some extra straw for, bless his intuition. Hua Cheng laid there where he landed, limp and sprawled out, staring up at Xie Lian with a mixture of shock and raw desperation. He looked almost like he was about to dissipate again. His poor San Lang! He was even more exhausted than Xie Lian had initially thought.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng croaked out weakly.

Xie Lian smiled at him gently. His hair was mussed, his robes also, from a day of work in the fields and from rolling around in the grass. He was tired, but his own exhaustion paled in comparison to the burning desire to care for his San Lang, to nurse him back to health, to spoil him as he’d longed to for this year and more.

His San Lang had had a hard life, a hard unlife. Xie Lian hardly considered himself worthy, but oh, he was so very full of love, and was so ready to give it to Hua Cheng.

“I’ll bring San Lang some stew in just a little bit,” Xie Lian murmured. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Hua Cheng’s lovely pale forehead. “He can rest until then.”

E-ming rattled insistently, and Xie Lian glanced over in concern.

“Oh, E-ming, you’ve worked so hard today,” Xie Lian fretted. “It’s time for you to rest, too.”

He bustled over to grasp E-ming’s hilt and hoist him out of the stewpot. Black, viscous tar oozed off E-ming’s blade. E-ming’s eye blinked and batted rapidly, and his whole self trembled and rattled like a needy puppy pleading for his master’s pats. Xie Lian cooed and fussed and obliged, stroking E-ming’s hilt as he carried him out to the bathing tub.

“We’ll be right back, San Lang!” Xie Lian called over his shoulder. “We just need to wash up!”

He’d hardly drawn enough water into the bathing tub for E-ming alone when he heard a commotion from inside. Hua Cheng stood at the door, heaving for breath. He glowered at E-ming, who lounged in the tub, and returned the glare measure for measure.

“San Lang!” Xie Lian exclaimed. “I thought I told you to stay in bed!”

“In any other circumstance, I could not refuse such an order from His Highness,” Hua Cheng said. “But San Lang wants a bath too.”

Xie Lian gasped, and hurried over to hoist Hua Cheng over his shoulder once more.

“Ah! San Lang, you’re right, it was so rude of me to not offer! Here, you and E-ming can have the bathwater first, I’ll manage later…”

He lowered Hua Cheng to his feet next to the bath, and, driven by hospitality and single-minded determination, yanked off Hua Cheng’s clothes without another word. Hua Cheng’s corporeal form briefly flickered in and out of sight, and he stumbled on his feet enough to topple into the bath.

“Now, I have this oil that works splendidly to polish E-ming,” Xie Lian went on, dragging out a small basket of supplies. “Perhaps it’d work on San Lang’s hair, as well? Wouldn’t that make sense, don’t you think? San Lang?”

Hua Cheng made a gurgling noise that Xie Lian took as a yes, and got to work wetting and washing the vast expanse of Hua Cheng’s raven-black locks. This task engrossed him – even if it had not, he would not have been able to hear the private discussion that Hua Cheng and E-ming were having in their shared array…

MASTER IS INTRUDING ON GEGE BATHTIME, E-ming accused. MASTER IS TOO BIG, AND MAKES GEGE NOT FIT IN THE TUB WITH E-MING. MAKES GEGE HAVE TO WAIT.

This perhaps hit home, and Hua Cheng felt a pang of guilt. He would build a splendid indoor bathing area in Qiandeng Temple for Xie Lian’s private use. An outdoor one, too, complete with hot springs, and non-alcoholic drink service at a floating bar in the middle.

“Your Highness,” Hua Cheng said with effort, unable to speak clearly with Xie Lian’s hands tugging at his hair. “Please. While the water’s warm. Come in.”

“I wouldn’t want to squish you and E-ming,” Xie Lian said. “Don’t worry, I’ll manage.”

MASTER ALSO HOGS SPECIAL STUFF GEGE USES TO POLISH E-MING, E-ming continued in his accusations.

Has my long absence caused you to forget your place?, Hua Cheng replied. His Highness doesn’t need to rely on your questionable assistance any longer.

E-MING IS OF MOST ASSISTANCE, E-ming stated. E-MING CHOPS, AND STIRS, AND DOES NOT USE UP ALL THE SPECIAL STUFF. GEGE CAN POLISH E-MING TEN TIMES BEFORE HE IS DONE TENDING TO MASTER’S TASSEL EVEN ONCE.

Useless and an idiot, Hua Cheng said. His Highness is truly too kind to have taken you in.

BIG AND STUPID WITH TOO MUCH TASSEL, E-ming shot back.

Useless and an idiot and not even sharp enough to cut a rotten orange.

BIG AND STUPID TOO MUCH TASSEL AND DOESN’T EVEN WRITE GOOD!

In this arms race of progressively more childish insults, there could be no winner. There was only one thing that could stop it: the angelic tones of Xie Lian’s laughter.

“Ah! Ruoye, you’re tickling me! Did you want to have a bath, too?” Xie Lian was peeking up his own sleeve as Ruoye swirled around his forearms and biceps. “Come now, don’t be shy. You know San Lang.”

Ruoye shyly slithered out and into the tub, peeping once at Hua Cheng before dunking itself under the surface of the water and disappearing into the depths. Xie Lian began to hum as he worked, fingers deep in Hua Cheng’s locks, combing the oil in with careful passes.

It was bliss.

It was more than Hua Cheng could’ve ever dreamed of.

It was almost enough to stop him from continuing to argue with his useless idiot not-sharp sword for the remainder of the bath.

(Almost.)

 --

 After a delicious dinner – made all the more delicious by Xie Lian’s insistence on spoon-feeding Hua Cheng, and made into a transcendent dining experience by Hua Cheng’s successful gamble at pleading for Xie Lian’s lap as a pillow for his weary head – Xie Lian still failed to join Hua Cheng on the bed-mat. Drunk on power and love both, Hua Cheng was fully ready to pout and whine and plead for his gege to warm his poor frail San Lang, but was briefly distracted by a kiss to his forehead, his cheek, and then a hesitant, shy press of lips against his own.

“I’ll come to bed in a little while,” Xie Lian promised. “It’s time for E-ming’s lessons.”

Hua Cheng’s eyebrow arched so high that his forehead crinkled. Xie Lian giggled and kissed it again. If Hua Cheng’s heart still beat, it would have burst a thousand times over. Still, regarding the topic at hand…

“Gege is too kind to try and teach him anything,” Hua Cheng said. “Truly, anyone would have forgiven you for giving it up as a lost cause.”

Xie Lian blinked, then shook his head. “Oh, no, he’s a wonderful student. His calligraphy has come so far! Here, let us show you…”

Xie Lian grabbed a length of paper, and hung it from the wall – a blank scroll, ready to be written upon. E-ming floated over, hovering, waiting for his teacher’s instructions. Xie Lian tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“Today…how about a few passages from the Shan Hai Jing? E-ming’s choice of chapter.”

E-ming rattled eagerly, then flung himself to the ground to roll around on the wetted inkstone Xie Lian had provided for him. Once thoroughly covered, he launched himself end-over-end at the hanging scroll, and splatted against it with an audible sound. He pried himself off, shook off the remaining ink, and blinked once, twice at his handiwork before squinting and wiggling a delighted rattling dance.

 Three thousand ninety li farther southeast,

then northeast,

stands Departing-Doves Mountain. On its heights are many mulberry trees.

There is a bird dwelling here whose form resembles a crow

with a patterned head, white beak, and red feet.

It is called Jingwei and makes a sound like its name. 

 Not only was it legible, it was impeccable work. Even Hua Cheng couldn’t argue that. Xie Lian clapped at E-ming’s little dance, and gave him a kiss to his hilt as he floated close and seemed to plead for it.

“Of course, of course, good students get a hug and a kiss,” Xie Lian assured him, and wiped off a smudge of ink from E-ming’s blade with his thumb. “Now, four more repetitions and it’s time for bed…”

He’d been born a lowly peasant, illiterate and uneducated. He’d had to twist Black Water’s arm (literally) to force him to teach him the basics of reading and writing, back in the day, and it still didn’t come naturally to him.

Hua Cheng was never destined to be a good student. No, he was destined to be a bother and a pest.

And every part of him was alight with the determination to be just that.

“Gege…” Hua Cheng said in plaintive tones. “Can’t San Lang join class, too?”

E-ming’s eye narrowed at him.

MASTER DOES NOT EVEN KNOW THE CLASSROOM READING LIST.

Don’t I? Oh, I think I do.

MASTER IS A LIAR AND A CAD.

Yes, of course, the Shan Hai Jing; my favorite part is when the wicked Demon King wins the hand of the beautiful prince in marriage, and they ride off into the sunset on a giant flying fish…

E-ming rattled furiously. NOTHING NO PART NOT ANYTHING NOTHING AT ALL IN SHAN HAI JING ABOUT MASTER AND GEGE AND A FISH!!

Xie Lian was too delighted at the idea of teaching Hua Cheng to notice the renewed battle of wills, and was already at Hua Cheng’s bedside with paper and ink and brushes.

“I’d love to have San Lang as a student! Of course, we’ll have to get you up to speed with E-ming, but San Lang is so clever, and such a quick study…I know he’ll be just as good a student.”

Hua Cheng leaned in, smiling wide. Xie Lian looked up to see his face just an inch way, and flushed a deep red.

“Good students get a hug and a kiss,” Hua Cheng cited his teacher’s words from earlier. “What do bad students get, I wonder?”

Xie Lian studied Hua Cheng’s face for a moment or two, considering.

“Ruoye,” he said quietly. “Go tuck E-ming into bed in the other room.”

  (Hua Cheng did not ride off into the sunset on a giant flying fish, but, well. It sure was something.)

[timelesstempo]

key lime pie | han jisung

(2/9) stray kids u.s. destinations series

destination: Key West, Florida

wc: 2.1k

genre: fluffy fluffy fluffy

a/n: so i clearly suck at summaries oops! anyway, i really hope you all enjoy this! i absolutely loved this place and thought it went well with jisung’s lively personality! feel free to tell me how you feel about this part of the series! i’d love to hear your opinions! also, check out chan’s part below! and tell me which member you guys want next! requests are open! love you guys!

summary: what could be better than vacationing in Key West? there’s swimming, hammocks, and best of all, key lime pie. add Han Jisung in the mix and you have a wonderful but slightly crazy day. 

| woojin | chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin | 

stray kids masterlist | main masterlist 

~ | ~ | ~ | ~

The scolding Florida sun beams down on yours and Jisung’s heads. You’d been walking through the streets of Key West just seeing all the sights and enjoying each other’s company for a few hours now, and you both were thinking it was time for a little rest. 

“Come on, Jisung! We’re almost there!” you pull his hand to keep him from falling too far behind you. 

“You said that two blocks ago!” he whines, following you nonetheless. 

You turn the corner a moment later to find your destination. 

“Look! I found it! I told you I knew where I was going.” you boasted. Jisung just huffed with a slight pout. 

You enter the shop and instantly your eyes scan the room in wonder; absolutely everything is key lime flavored. There are olive oils, juices, candies, even dog treats, all with that citrus tang that so many people love. You decided to come to this shop because what better place to have key lime pie than in Key West! 

Pulling Jisung, who was preoccupied with some free samples of key lime candy, over to the pie and ice cream counter, the two of you order some refreshing treats to help you cool off from the blistering heat. Jisung orders a scoop of strawberry key lime ice cream claiming strawberry makes everything taste better, while you stick with a classic slice of the island’s famous key lime pie. 

Just outside of the shop’s back doors is a small patio with tables, plants and even a serene little koi pond. You and Jisung sit at a table placed near the street but still underneath the patio awning’s shade to people watch as you enjoy your sweet treats. 

The two of you sit in silence as you eat your snacks, watching all the strangers passing by, listening to the various sounds of the lively area. Because of his incessant whining, you occasionally feed Jisung small bites of your pie. 

You finish your snacks, but remain at the table for a little while, resting as much as you can after walking in the heat for so long. 

“Now that we’re all good and rested, can we go exploring some more?” Jisung asks with hope in his eyes, already standing up from the table. 

“Of course, baby,” you stand up from the table as Jisung takes your hand and leads you to the sidewalk, “where to?” 

Jisung thinks for a minute with a quizzical look on his face, “Ummm.... this way!” 

He pulls you in the direction he decided on with no idea where he’s heading. He doesn’t really care as long as he’s with you. 

The two of you walk hand in hand about four blocks until you begin to hear faint music and the hum of conversing crowds. Curious as to the cause of the commotion, Jisung slightly speeds up his pace. Entering the crowded social hub, which you’ve come to learn is called Mallory Square, you take in your surroundings; people in costumes, street performers and salesmen are spread around the vast area, entertaining locals and tourists alike. 

“Oh look, (y/n)! There’s boats!”

Jisung excitedly scampers off to the dock to watch the multiple tour boats sail past the square, you following like a lost puppy. He sits down on the edge of the dock, his legs hanging off, and you join him, staring at the wide open water. Children around you squeal as they chase each other and fly tiny drones as far as they can over the water. The street performers’ music lulls you into a calm state of happiness. You lean your head on Jisung’s shoulder, his head plopping on top of yours. 

~ | ~ | ~ | ~

After dinner, you walk back to your resort to relax after the long and hot day. 

“Babe, lets go see if one of the hammocks are open,” Jisung suggests once entering the small resort grounds to which you happily agree. To your excitement, one of the large hammocks that are placed on the small private beach is open and waiting for you and your boyfriend. 

“Okay... um... this could be tricky.” 

Jisung stares at the hammock as he tries to figure out how to safely get both of you on the seat without ending up in the sand underneath instead. 

“Alright. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll lie down in the middle and then you just lay on top of me so I can balance it. Sound good?” he asks. 

“You’re the hammock expert,” you raise your hands teasingly. He smirks at your comment. 

Jisung climbs onto the wobbly lounge chair with about as much grace as a newborn deer, but eventually lies down and gets the hammock into a still and balanced position before motioning for you to hop on with him. You lean over and place your hands on his shoulders, swinging your leg over his lap, then finally lying your body across his. The close proximity of your faces does not go unnoticed by Jisung. 

“Well hello there,” he teases.

“Shut up,” you retort with a smile.

Jisung watches and does his best to keep the hammock balanced as you maneuver over to his side. Once you are comfortable, his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. He places a chaste kiss to the top of your head, pulling the hand not around your waist to caress your face and run his fingers through your hair. You lean up and place a kiss on his jaw, being the only place you can reach in this position. 

A calm silence comes over the two of you, just soaking in each others’ presence. You can tell Jisung has something on his mind after a while, but choose not to ask about it knowing he will tell you whatever it is when he’s ready, which turns out to be sooner than you think. He moves his head slightly to be able to look down at you and see your face before speaking. 

“Thank you for planning this vacation, (y/n). You and I both know I have a hard time deciding when to take a break, relax, and forget about work. This trip has really helped me unwind and clear some of the stress I’ve been under lately. Thank you so much. I’m so happy to be here in this shaky hammock, holding you in my arms. I love you, (y/n).” 

“Jisung, I would swim the entire ocean for you. You know that? I love you more than anything in this world.” 

With that, the two of you snuggle even closer together, staying silent. The love in the air is almost suffocating; your lungs can hardly handle it. That’s the way it usually is with Jisung. He never fails to take your breath away with his never ending love. 

Soon, the sun has gone completely down and the light from the resort is only illuminating your hammock enough for you to see Jisung’s silhouette. 

Getting off the hammock ends exactly how you pictured it; lying in the sand with Jisung on top of you, momentarily squishing you with his weight before he pulls himself up, laughing. 

“I thought I was going to be a lot smoother than that,” he bashfully rubs the back of his neck. You just giggle at him, pulling him back to the gate into the pool area. 

At the late hour, the small pool near the bar is completely empty with only a few stray people talking and enjoying drinks at the outdoor bar. The tiny fountains from the pillars by the wall send streams of water into the pool. The water looks increasingly inviting the longer you stand there. You and Jisung exchange glances. 

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” you ask him with a smirk.

“Oh yeah. Do you know who you’re talking to?” he jokes back. 

“Race you upstairs!” you yell before taking off toward the outdoor staircase that leads to your room at the resort, getting a head start on Jisung. 

“Hey! Cheater!” he yells, laughing, chasing after you. 

~ | ~ |~ | ~

Once back in the pool area, now changed into your swimwear, Jisung immediately jumps in the deeper end without a second thought. You laugh at your crazy childish boyfriend, opting to walk over to the stairs on the other side of the pool to step in instead. 

The pool water is warm but not too warm. The lights on the bottom reflect onto Jisung’s bare chest and face as he swims closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He smiles cheekily at you before dunking you under the water. He doesn’t hold you under though; he simply swims over into the deep end to avoid your inevitable wrath. 

“Han Jisung!” you cough, water running down your face and into your eyes and mouth. Once you take notice of his position, you begin chasing after him. You catch up to him eventually, dunking him under in return, holding him under for a second for extra emphasis. 

“Okay, okay! Truce! We’re even!” he shouts. 

Quickly, your giggles turn into soft gazes. Jisung suddenly grabs you and holds you in his arms like a bride. 

“What are you-”

“Just lay back. I want to hold you while you float.”

You obey his instructions, a slight blush to your cheeks at his boldness. You relax in his arms, leaning your head back into the water, eyes closed. He carries you around the pool, occasionally spinning you in slow circles, just watching you and enjoying holding you in his arms. 

All of a sudden, the calm surface of the pool is interrupted by large droplets of rain; expected in Florida, just not in this calm romantic moment. Rain drops fall onto your lifted face until Jisung lifts your head up and pulls you with him until the two of you are under the small roof covering that hangs just barely over the pool from the bar. The fountain streams combines with the heavy rain and the crashing of waves just yards away drown out all other sounds. 

Despite you being able to reach the bottom of the pool, Jisung turns your attention toward him as he wraps your legs around his waist and leans back against the pool wall. 

“We might as well just hang out in here while the rain pours. We would have to run back to the room with wet towels around us,” he refers to the two pool towels you had laid on a chair before you got in the pool that are now sopping wet. Staying in the pool was probably the best option. 

“Sounds good to me,” you reply, leaning your head on his shoulder, your face almost hidden in his neck. 

You wait for a while for the rain to die down, just enjoying each other’s company for the time being. Jisung hums a soft song as you run your hands through his wet hair. 

“Hey, I think the rain is letting up,” Jisung mentions after a long while of complete silence, “Should we make a run for it?” 

You lift your head up from his shoulder to check out the state of the rain. 

“Yeah, we better, otherwise we will be here all night.” 

Jisung walks over to the stairs, your body still wrapped around his. He releases you, stepping up the stairs and grabbing your wet towels before taking your hand and walking quickly in the direction of the stairs to your room, leaving a trail of wet sandy footprints. The rain falls on you causing laughs and light squeals to erupt from both of you. 

“Hey, (y/n), I bet I can beat you to our room this time,” he challenges, still not over his loss from your first race, “last one there has to buy the other a slice of key lime pie tomorrow.” You smile at him with a smug look, already making your way up the stairs. 

“You’re on.” 

You take off around the corner of the outdoor hallway that leads to your room, positive that you will beat your boyfriend; however, Jisung has other plans. He catches up to you and quickly throws you over his shoulder, preventing you from racing him. 

“Hey! That’s not fair! Put me down Han Jisung!” you exclaim, kicking your legs and lightly hitting his back. 

He walks swiftly to your room, ignoring your protests, and touches the door. He sets you down in front of him, smiling at the adorably grumpy look on your face. 

“I win, sweetheart,” he leans down and places a small kiss on your nose, “and that means you owe me some key lime pie.” 

You give him an unimpressed look, making him giggle. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll share it with you.”