#gold base cocktail table

[daefics]

Library - Family Room Example of a mid-sized transitional enclosed medium tone wood floor family room library design with white walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Drunk in Venice - Drew Starkey Daydreams ☁️

+18 Minor DNI

Drew x Actress (Reader)

⭐️republished & changed slightly for Venice⭐️

📖 blurb based off of a Pinterest text chain about being ✨just friends✨ This takes place @ the Venice Film Festival

Fluff-ish (see warnings)

🪄 Warning: swearing, sexting

Being co-stars with Drew, you’re both trying to keep your relationship professional. It started with a simple request.

Drew: What are you wearing out? I don’t wanna be overdressed.

You text him a picture of your going-out outfit, and he responds with

Drew: Fuck you look stunning. I’m gonna change.

Y/N: When you figure out what you’re going to wear send me a picture I think you’re just being nice.

What you didn’t expect was a FaceTime call with a shirtless Drew Starkey, casually looking through his closet. “What about this?” He asks, holding up a white button down to his tanned, muscular chest. The sight of him standing there in just sweatpants, a gold chain, and shower-wet hair enough to send butterflies swirling.

“You look perfect.”

After that night, you went back and forth, riding a high each time you got a message from him. The pictures got riskier and riskier; only a few days of exchanging pics until he’s sending you a shower selfie in his lavish hotel in Venice with a towel covering his cock.

Drew: I’ll meet you all at the bar. I just got back from press. I need to shower.

You reply with a picture of your own, holding a towel to your chest, showing off you cleavage and the curves of your waist and hips.

Y/N: Same. I’ll see you there.

You watch the text bubble as he starts to generate a message. The bubble disappears and reappears a few times. You can tell you’ve frazzled him.

You both arrive at the after party, greeting each other simply, spending the night drinking and partying. You were a few cocktails deep, stealing glances at each other from across the table. Your fingers fumble over the screen as you type out a message for him.

Y/N: That picture today made me so wet. I want you so bad.

Drew grabs his phone off the table, opening it up, his beautiful blue eyes widening as your heart pounds in your chest.

Drew: That picture you set today made me so hard princess. I need you.

Apollo looks at you, cocking an eyebrow, asking, “Who’s got you smiling so much.” You shrug and giggle, doing your best not to allude to the man across the table. Another one of your castmates jumps into the conversation, seeing right through your bullshit. “So, are you two…” He lets his words fade away playfully as the table waits for your answer.

“Friends. We’re friends.” You answer. Drew smirks and nods in agreement. He pulls out his phone, that same smirk pulled on his lips ‘til he sets it back on the table again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s your first time wearing that skirt. You’ve had it in your closet for two years. At least. You’re not really a skirt person but it’s cute. The floral on black with the zipper up the front. It drapes nicely enough though you’re not used to wearing anything so short. You have a trusty pair of shorts on just in case. 

You don’t go out either. Definitely not to places like this. You keep an arm across your middle, gripping your other as the hordes of people make you dizzy. The shining gold accoutrement of the decor along with the waft of low music over the noise of tables and voices add to your vertigo. 

The casino is busy and bright and loud. You stay close to your sister as she leads you across the carpet; ivory with golden curliques patterned across them. You’re no gambler either but you’re not there to play cards.  

“I think it’s upstairs,” Roxie says as she looks at the tickets in her hand. “Gala Room B.” 

“Oh, right,” you murmur and smile at her, “what’s the band again?” 

“Don’t worry about it the tickets were free,” she chirps as you look up at her. You feel even more a child beside her; your height often adds to your inferiority complex. Historically, you think, those characteristics have been often intertwined. 

“No, but--” 

“You need to get out of mom’s place more,” she chides, “I could’ve brought Katie instead, but I chose you, sis.” 

“I know, er, thanks,” you run your hand up to your shoulder and rub it nervously. 

“Show doesn’t start for another hour. Let’s get a drink,” she insists and turns, strutting towards the long bar at the other side of the grand space. You trail after her, shrinking down even further. She turns back to you as she leans on a tall stool, “what d’ya want?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t really...” 

“I know, it’s one drink, how about a vodka-cran?” She suggests, “you love cranberry.” 

“Um, sure, if you think that’s good.” 

She sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s the wild one, not you. You know you bore her and since your parents’ divorce, years ago, you haven’t really hung out together. She went with your dad and you with your mom, since then, it’s all been a bit fuzzy. 

She orders as you stand back, not wanting to get in the way of the people all around you. You lean back, rocking nervously as you glance around. You feel underdressed as you see women in cocktail dresses and men in suits. Even your sister is a stark contrast to your overly casual attire; your favourite purple cardigan and the skirt you’ve never worn. 

Your eyes scan the room, admiring the golden sconces of bulbs that resemble candelabras and the gilt trim all along the wall. The more you look around, the less you belong. You don’t even know why you said yes. Well, your mom pushed you into it. Just like your sister, she keeps saying you need to get out more. 

You rub your lips together and feel around your small tassled purse. It’s used, like most of your things. The thrift store is as much as your mom can afford and you still haven’t found a solid job. You worked at the grocery for a summer before they laid off half of you then did a one-day stint at a polling centre for the last municipal election. Even if you wanted to go out, you don’t have the money for it. 

You pull out your chapstick and smear it around your chafed lips as you sway back the other direction. You stop short as you nearly slam into another body and you stumble out of the way of the man in his black-and-white suit. Embarrassment creeps hotly up your cheeks and you cap your lip balm and stand out of his path. 

He’s taller than you. Well, everyone is. But to you, he seems huge. His suit is finely tailored to his figure though his hair seems to clash with the refined style. It’s almost to his collar but neatly parted, a shank falling forward to frame his sharp cheekbone. His square jaw is trimmed thickly with a dark beard, peppered with strands of silver and patch along the dimple of his chin. You’ve never seen anything as blue as his eyes, they are almost inhumanly vivid. 

“Sorry, doll,” he touches your arm as he passes and smirks, swiftly turning his sights ahead of him. 

You gulp as your shoulder hits someone else. You spin to face your sister as she offers you a glass. You take the red concoction with the short black straw sticking out over the ice cubes. You thank her as the chill seeps into your hand. 

“Oof, look at him,” she leans to watch after the man in his dark suit, “damn.” You frown and look in the other direction. She scoffs and nudges you, “come on. That guy is totally stunning. Even you can see that.” 

“I don’t wanna gawk at him,” you mutter, “he’s a stranger.” 

“Oh, whatever, not like he’d notice,” she snips. 

You scrunch up your lip and tuck your chapstick away as you peer toward the man. He goes up to a table, sliding in next to a taller woman with honey-blond hair and a shimmery dress. He rests his hand along her lower back as he chatters to her and the rest of the players around the leather trim. 

“Sheesh, he’s fine,” she puts a twang on the last word, “mmph. If I wasn’t with Tom...” 

“Right,” you look down at the drink and sip from the straw. You make a face and cough. 

“It’s not that strong,” she slaps your back, “don’t be dramatic.” 

“I know,” you clear your throat, “I just wasn’t expecting the taste.” 

“Let’s go upstairs,” she points above. 

“Uh, okay,” you agree to her sudden diversion. You suppose you really are boring. 

You follow her up the curved stairs and along the railing that overlooks the lower casino room. Arched windows let in the night and the glow of the facade. You lean on the polished wood and peer down at the first floor; it looks even more resplendent from there. You sister puts her elbow on the railing as she looks around. 

“We could stick around after, lose some money,” she says. 

“I don’t... mom only gave me a twenty and I owe you for the drink.” 

“Pfft, whatever, I’ll spot ya. Tom gave me some extra with the tickets,” she trills, “it’ll be fun. Play some black jack. It’ll be an experience. You could say you’ve actually done something.” 

You smile, closed-lipped and tight. She isn’t wrong. It’s your first concert, for some cover band, and your first time at a casino. It’s not an exaggeration to say this is the height of your life experience. 

Your eyes wander down and meet another pair. You wince. It’s that same man. He walks towards you, a certain swagger in his stride. As he peers up at you, his cheeks dimple and he winks. You wrinkle your brow and look behind you. When you turn back, he’s gone. Right, you’re imagining things. 

Roxie slurps as her straw turns hollow. She’s already drained her cocktail, meanwhile you’ve barely taken a sip. She stirs the ice and hums. 

“Wait here, I’m gonna get a refill,” she raises her glass. 

“Oh, I can come with you--” 

“Nah, just stand here,” she insists. “You’ll just slow me down.” 

“Sure, uh, okay.” 

You curl your shoulders inward as she walks away. Great. All alone. You avoid looking anywhere but your glass. You face the railing again and balance your drink on it. It’s not bad, tarter than you’re used to and a little burny.  

You play with the black bracelet around your wrist, the band they stuck around it when they scanned your ID at the door. You suppose it’s a good idea but they wouldn’t be letting kids in here, would they? Oh yeah, the hotel is attached. 

As a kid, you never went on vacations like that. No hotels, no casinos, no shows. It seems like Roxie is catching up on all of that and you’re just there. The world is so much scarier when it’s all a mystery to you. 

“Excuse me,” a deep voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking it’s merely a passerby, “miss?” 

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you barely save your cocktail from spilling over the edge. You clutch the glass with both hands and face the stranger. It’s that same man, with the suit and the long hair and the oceanic eyes. Something about him is familiar beyond your few earlier glances. 

“I think you dropped this?” He holds up a chip with a golden 100 on it. You blink and shake your head. 

“No,” you scrape out of your throat, “I don’t-- I didn’t--” 

“I swear I saw it fall out of your bag,” he looks down at your purse. 

“Really, I’m not... I don’t gamble.” 

“Ah, well, if it’s just hanging around, might as well use it, huh?” He keeps his hand out, “maybe it’s your lucky day.” 

“I couldn’t. If someone lost it...” your voice doesn’t want to go and he leans in to hear you, adding to the heat spreading through your chest. Is it the alcohol or him? 

“You’re sweet, keep it,” he shoves the chip toward you. 

“Please, I... I... can’t...” you wipe a hand on your skirt and clutch the fabric. 

“Doll, I can’t hear you,” he says as he grabs your hand and dislodges it from your skirt, “here.” 

He presses the chip into your palm. You stare at his tie then look down at the white chip with gold detailing. His hand brushes yours before he rescinds his touch. 

“Erm...” you murmur dumbly and shake your head. 

“My treat,” he growls. 

“But...” 

“Like the skirt, by the way,” he surprises you as he pinches a fold, “cute on you.” 

Just as quickly as he appeared, he strides away, leaving you blankly staring after him. His broad shoulders move beyond a thick marble pillar as you hold up your drink and the chip. You just look between them. 

“Hey,” Roxie approaches again, “oh, what’s that?” 

“A chip...” you state plainly. 

“Duh, I know. Where’d you get it?” 

You look at the floor. Would she even believe you? “The floor.” 

“Ooo,” she plucks it from your fingers, “awesome, “now we’re definitely having some fun tonight.” 

“Rox,” you swallow and look up at her, “we should hand it in. It’s a lot of money. If someone lost it--” 

“If they lost it, they can afford it,” she bobs her neck as she speaks, “live a little,” she sneers and taps your glass, “and finish your drink. Maybe that’ll loosen you up.” 

You nod and recede into yourself, cradling the glass again with both hands. You put your lips to the straw and drink until you can’t anymore. She gulps straight from the brim of her glass and sighs, wiggling as she peers around. 

“I almost don’t even want to see these old men play music,” she snickers as she takes in the expanse of tables flashing lights. 

“Oh?” 

“Relax, we’re going to see the show. You’re a horrible liar and mom will see right through you,” she sneers, “besides, I told her I wouldn’t get you in too much trouble.” 

[gurugirl]

A Good Boy | 1. Surrender

Summary: Harry's got the hots for his young stepmom and she's pretty fond of him too. But they're both trying really hard to be good. Loosely based on this ask.

A/N: This is stepmom!reader x virgin stepson!harry. There is a 7 year age gap and Harry met her at the age of 19. He is 21 in this story.

Word count: 21.4k words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, inappropriate relationship between a stepmom & virgin stepson, smut

A Good Boy Masterlist

Her husband, Leonardo, was the kind of man that could only be described as a provider. Not a lover, not a sweet man, not a gentle soul. Just a provider. Her mother asked her why she was marrying the older man, “Y/n he’s 15 years your senior! It’s preposterous! He’s rich but you can find real love…” She’d heard it all. But she was interested in having nice things. Being able to finish her art and history degree and go to the tennis club and shop with her girlfriends.

He also bought her the cutest little red Mercedes and the biggest diamond ring. And his house was- well it wasn’t just a house. It was an estate sat in the Hollywood hills near other celebrities and affluent humans (or robots she sometimes thought). She even had her own bedroom. It was an odd setup for sure, but a setup nonetheless.

Leonardo made it clear. He wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a pretty thing with a good head on her shoulders that he could fuck when he needed and buy nice things for. Someone to bring with him when he had to show face at events and parties who could hold a somewhat intelligent conversation. She could do that. And he wasn’t a bad-looking man either. He was fit and tall with a deep voice and his deep pockets were just the cherry on top.

Did this make her a gold digger? She supposed that yes, it did. But what of her husband? This was what he wanted too. No one was being tricked. Everything was very simple and clearly defined. Down to the fact that she could sleep with anyone she wanted as long as she was discreet and didn’t give him the details. The same went for Leo.

Though Y/n hadn’t been interested in sleeping with anyone else, she was certain Leo did on his business trips and “boys-only vacations” he often took with his friends.

Y/n wasn’t bothered by the lack of love or the fact that her marriage wasn’t conventional. She was getting everything she wanted and she was happy. Sure a little intimacy was nice but she had close friends and so far, that was all she needed.

.           .           .

“Leo! Marla is here with the Uber! I’ll see you later!” She shouted toward his study as she made her way out the door. It was Friday night. Girl’s night. Every other Friday she, Marla, Cyndee, and Gina met at Murphy’s Lounge to dance and drink a few too many martinis. It was always fun. Sometimes she flirted with some man who wanted to dance. But never anything more. She could have if she wanted. More. She could have done more but she never felt the need. No one interested her enough to make that sort of leap into partaking in the open aspect of her marriage.

The bar was full, as it usually was at 8 pm on a Friday night. Gina and Cyndee had already secured a table and had cocktails in hand when she and Marla got there.

And just like every time the four of them got together, they acted as if they hadn’t seen one another in ages. Sometimes they could be overly dramatic in their greetings but they genuinely appreciated one another.

“Okay. The first round is on me, but the rest is on Daddy Leo,” Cyndee bubbled out her words in laughter.

Y/n playfully smacked Cyndee’s arm, “Oh so now you’re calling my husband Daddy?!” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I am. He’s a Daddy, Y/n. Like, there’s no way you don’t call him Daddy when-“

Y/n placed her hand over Cyndee’s mouth, “Oh my god you’re too much sometimes! No more talk of Leo! The rest of the drinks are on him and we’ll leave it at that,” she laughed.

That was usually how it went. Leonardo picked up their girl’s night tab and paid for their taxis or Ubers.

“Okay. We’re just gonna get our drinks and we’ll be right back.” Marla swept Y/n off to the bar so they could order their usual drinks. For Y/n it was a nice stiff lemon drop martini.

Marla ordered a whisky sour, with extra orange slices and then rambled on about Ryan, her on-again, off-again boyfriend. They were on again at that moment but she was wearing thin, once again.

“Why do you do it to yourself, Marla? If you want to be done then just be done. You’ve tried and it hasn’t worked. I feel like you could do better anyway. Ryan’s nice but I think you two have run your course.”

“Ughh… I know, Y/n. God do I know. Easier said than done. There’s so much history, and friends in common. And we have a fucking dog together! I just… I don’t know.”

The bartender handed them their drinks and then Y/n gave the guy her credit card, “Please put this card in place of Cyndee Daniels tab. We’ll use this one instead.”

Josh was the bartender that evening. A cute college-aged young man with a bright smile who always remembered her name.

“Of course, Ms. Y/n. Will swap these out. As usual.” He winked.

She leaned over the bar as she took a quick sip of her martini while Josh went to retrieve Cyndee’s card. She looked down the bar at the faces of other patrons and suddenly was met with the clear green eyes of Leo’s son, Harry. Her stepson. She wasn’t sure if he’d seen her and it wasn’t as if Y/n had done anything wrong but she just hadn’t expected to see him there.

She leaned up again, peering around the woman sitting on the stool to her left and her eyes landed on the young man. Freshly shorn dark curls and a soft pink smile crooked up as he spoke animatedly to the guy sitting next to him. And just as she assumed he hadn’t seen her he turned and looked at her squarely, his lips moving as he spoke something to his friend then nodding in acknowledgment at Y/n before pulling himself off the stool he was on and making his way across the bar to her.

“Is that Harry?” Marla spoke as she leaned in.

“Yes, it is.”

Harry was a nice young man. He was polite, sometimes overly polite she thought, and he was charming. Y/n liked Harry. She didn’t know him all that well. He lived on campus at the university so she saw him rarely. But she did recognize that he’d cut his hair. He had long dark curls when she first met him. He looked like a bad boy, covered in tattoos with a permanent smirk on his face. But once she got to talking to him, she realized, he was a big sweetheart really. The long dark hair and tattoos were just a look. A style. Harry was a nice young man.

The truth was, all the girls joked about how attractive Leo and his son were. Both men were quite handsome. Y/n couldn’t deny that. Harry was tall like his father and built nicely. Long legs and a well-muscled chest. A great jawline and crystal green eyes that allured.

“Hi, Y/n. Marla,” Harry spoke as he looked from Y/n to Marla.

And that was another thing about him. He always remembered everyone’s name. He had met Marla maybe twice, yet here he was drinking beers at a bar and remembering the name of Y/n’s best friend whom he barely knew.

“Hi Harry,” Y/n smiled up at him, “Like the hair,” She reached up and whisked a finger into a short curl before bringing her hand back down into her own space.

Harry smiled broadly, a glorious dimple digging into his cheek as he raised an arm and ran his long fingers through his soft dark hair, “Oh! Yeah. Thank you. Got it cut a few weeks ago. Still getting used to it. Um, how are you doing?”

“Good. Girl’s Night, you know,” she shrugged and looked over at Marla who stood next to her, “We’re here every other Friday for some dancing and drinks,” when she turned her gaze back to Harry’s his soft eyes were intently watching her as she spoke. “Um, yeah. How are you? How’s school?”

Harry tipped himself forward to his toes and then lowered back down to his normal height, “Good. S’good. Already looking forward to Spring break,” he chuckled.

“Oh yeah! Me too. I’m not even in school anymore and I’m already making plans,” she chuckled.

Suddenly something dawned on Y/n. Her eyes went wide and then she squinted as she looked at her stepson, “Wait. You’re not 21. You’re too young to be here, Mister.”

Harry snorted a laugh and nodded, “I know. I know. But I’m turning 21 in two weeks. Figured I’d try out my fake ID once in my life. Before it’s too late,” he grinned.

“So you’ve never done this before?”

“Nope. First time. And of course, my stepmom is here when I do. Just my luck.”

Y/n laughed and her smile almost hurt her cheeks it was so wide.

A small jab to her side reminded her that Marla was still standing there, “Oh, sorry. Yeah. We should be heading back. We’re just over there if you want to stop by and say hi to the girls.” She pointed to the table where Cyndee and Gina were already watching the scene.

“Sure. Yeah. Of course. Um, it was really nice to see you, Marla,” Harry smiled gently at her and then looked back down to Y/n, “I’ll come by and say hi before I leave.”

The moment Y/n got to the table Cyndee pulled her arm, “Your stepson. Oof. He’s really attractive. Have you and him ever… you know?” She joked. Of course, Cyndee knew better.

“Oh stop it! Of course not! He’s a 20-year-old kid!” Y/n spoke in exasperation.

“You’re only 27, Y/n. You’re not much older. In fact, you’re closer to his age than you are to Leo’s,” Gina said.

Now Gina was usually the voice of reason so to have her on Cyndee’s side was ludicrous. Of course, she knew Cyndee was teasing but still.

Y/n took her seat and rolled her eyes as she took a healthy gulp of her sweet and tangy martini.

“And his haircut. God, he’s adorable like that. Damn,” Marla spoke next to her.

The music eventually began to grow louder and the martinis were going down far too easily. Especially after dancing and working up a sweat away from her seat. But one thing that didn’t change through the night was that her eyes kept finding Harry’s. It was like she couldn’t stop glancing over at him. But it didn’t help that every time she dared to peek he was looking at her already.

She couldn’t be sure that he was watching her dance but there was something about just the idea that he might be that had her swaying her hips a little more sensuously and using her hands to rub down her body like she was some kind of sexpot. But in truth, her dance moves were definitely subpar. But three martinis will tend to make one feel unnecessarily bold.

Y/n decided on just one more drink. A fourth martini to round out the night, plus she wanted to walk up to the bar near Harry and talk to him a little bit more. Just a friendly little tease about how he was only sitting and not dancing. Even his friend had gotten off the stool and danced with a young woman on the dance floor for a bit.

“You’re not really making the most of this special night, Harry,” she elbowed at his arm gently as she leaned over the bar to wave at Josh.

“What do you mean?” Harry’s eyes were a little red and he was quite obviously a little drunk.

She looked down at his wetted lips and back up to his pretty eyes, “You’re not even dancing. Just sitting here like a lump drinking beer after beer.”

“Ms. Y/n, another lemon drop?” Josh spoke as he put his hands on the bar top in front of her.

“Yes, please, Josh, and close it out too. I think all the girls are done for the night.” She laughed.

She turned back to look at Harry, “So no girls here you want to dance with? Even your buddy got out there a little bit. Where is he by the way?”

Harry turned around and looked over his shoulder for his friend and shrugged, “Maybe shagging in the bathroom. Haven’t seen him in a while now that I think of it. And no. No girls here I want to dance with.”

Y/n pouted and tilted her head as she reached up to touch his hair again, “I’ve seen a bunch of pretty girls around your age here, Harry. Some even checking you out. You should get out there and dance a little. Really fully experience Murphy’s Lounge,” she looked over her shoulder and then leaned in to speak quietly, “It’s your last chance with your fake ID,” she smiled as she tugged his curl the smallest bit.

Harry smirked, “Child abuse!” Craning his neck away from her fingers, he patted at his hair as if the tiny tug had hurt.

She rolled her eyes as Josh returned with the drink and her card, “See you in a couple weeks.” He smiled at her before returning to the other customers.

Harry’s features became serious again, “You know him?”

Y/n sipped her martini and nodded, “Yeah. We’re here often enough. So, yeah.” She shrugged keeping her eyes on her adorable stepson. Okay, maybe it was more like adorably handsome stepson, but still.

“Come. I’m gonna put this away,” she lifted her card upward as she motioned him to follow her, “And you and I are going out there to dance a little. We’ll find you someone cute to groove with a little.”

She expected Harry to protest a bit but he didn’t. He stepped in behind her and followed her to her table with his beer in hand. He stayed close to her as she bent down to slip her credit card into her purse. The security in the room always watched their table so no one took their things or tampered with their drinks (and the nice little tip Y/n, by way of Leo, didn’t hurt either).

“Leave your beer here. We’re gonna need our hands free!” she giggled as she pointed at the table.

“You’re okay to leave your drinks out like this? Thought that was a big no-no.”

Y/n looked in the direction of the man standing a few feet away, “He’s watching over the table. Now come on!”

The floor was packed with warm bodies moving and gyrating. The music was loud and the rhythmic base could be felt underfoot. She’d long lost sight of the girls as she began to sway and raise her arms upward.

Harry stayed close to his stepmom’s side and shuffled around a bit. His body was a bit stiff but he laughed when Y/n grabbed his hands and made him spin, “Loosen up a bit! Come on, Harry!”

Rolling his eyes he grinned and began to dramatically move about, trying to feel the beat and push down how awkward his movements felt.

Y/n kept her hands on his to encourage him to move with her and they both laughed as Harry began to relax into it a bit. His big smile only widened as the song was switched up to something that felt quite naughty and suggestive.

She released his hands because it felt like he was getting the hang of it. Not to mention she was beginning to enjoy the way his big hands fit around hers. And that couldn’t happen.

She turned around and continued swinging her hips and, moving with the rhythm as best she could. Long moments went by and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to get back into the swing of dancing and feeling the freedom and excitement of her night.

A hand pulled at her hip from behind and she opened her eyes and turned to see her stepson towering over her from behind. She hadn’t expected the sudden grip he had on her so she turned in confusion causing his palm to fall away. Harry looked over her shoulder and then dipped down to speak into her ear, “A man came over and was just about to try something with you. Wanted to discourage him a bit. Sorry.”

Y/n followed where he was looking and there was indeed a man there looking at her. And it wouldn’t have been too out of the ordinary for this to happen. She dealt with these things well usually. Sometimes she’d dance a little and flirt a little but that was it. It didn’t bother her. It was all in fun.

She chuckled and pulled at Harry’s shoulder to speak in his ear, “You don’t have to worry about me, Harry. I can take care of myself. I’m a big girl. But thank you.”

Harry licked his lips and turned his face toward her to speak, “I know you’re all grown up. Just didn’t want to see that with my own eyes is all.” His words were spoken close to her ear, his deep baritone vibrating from her neck and over her ear as she turned to look at him, only he didn’t move his face away and their gazes connected for a moment longer than felt innocent.

She swallowed and a small smile plucked upward on her lips, “Okay. Do you want to stay close then? Protect from the predators while I dance?” Her smile widened and she laughed but Harry’s smirk felt like something just the opposite of funny as he looked down over her face and to her neck and then over her lips.

“I’m not going anywhere,” his smirk remained as he shook his head and then in a surprise motion turned her around to face away and put both hands at her hips as they began dancing together.

She could feel his heat from behind her and his fingers held onto her hips possessively but she liked it. Especially when her hips moved to the beat and Harry’s hips moved behind her. He wasn’t pressing himself into her backside but she could feel him moving with her. He was keeping a polite distance. Though, everything that was happening was very inappropriate.

It was inappropriate because she liked it. Because this attractive young man behind her was looking at her in a way she noted was not innocent. Because she’d been obviously flirting with him at the bar. Because Harry was her stepson.

When the beat dropped low and the song slowed to something even more provocative and playful they both slowed and she felt Harry’s thumbs on the bit of skin exposed between the bottom hem of her blouse to just above her skirt’s waistline. His grasp on her skin was burning into her flesh, his fingers gently brushing and then squeezing at her.

“You’re not a bad dancer,” Harry remarked into her ear and she felt his chest press into her back.

And without thinking too deeply about it, or perhaps it was the martinis that left her so uninhibited, she dropped her head back and toward his mouth and felt his lips at her ear, “I’m a terrible dancer. But thank you anyway.” She laughed.

Harry chuckled into her ear, not backing away from how she’d leaned into him but instead pulling at her just enough that his fingers pinched her waist and she could feel him smile as he spoke against her ear, “Nothing about you is terrible, Y/n.”

His deep tone gave her a chill and goosebumps traveled down her neck and over her bare arms. Her good sense had been momentarily suspended as she smiled and dared to move her bottom into his hips.

When she heard his groan in her ear she closed her eyes and placed her hands over his, pressing his hands flat over her waist so she could feel his long fingers under hers, feel his warm palms digging into her skin.

“Better stop. I’m getting a little,” Harry suddenly backed off, his hands releasing her hips and she turned to look up at him as he ran a hand through his hair. He was flushed and his pupils were large, making his soft greens appear dark and heavy as he looked at her with an unmistakable glint of lust. She was sure she looked the same.

“Of course. Yeah. It was fun, though,” she smiled as she began to head back to the table. Harry followed.

They slid into the booth and took their drinks, letting the music of the bar fill in the gaps of their silence.

Y/n realized she was wet. She scolded herself inwardly. Her stepson was off-limits. Hell, to her most men were off limits because she was married (despite her open marriage). But especially Harry. She didn’t know if she should apologize or just let everything that had happened slip away without acknowledgment.

They were both drinking and so that had something to do with her behavior. With his. But mostly hers because she was the stepmom. She should have known better.

“Sorry we didn’t find you a cute girl to dance with,” she offered as she rounded her eyes and grinned, trying to make light of everything and ignore what had just happened between them.

Harry shook his head and looked down at his beer, then shifted his eyes to hers, “I think we did find me a cute girl to dance with,” he licked his lips and huffed a laugh shaking his head again as he lifted his beer.

“I’m done done done! Some guy bought me two shots. On top of the four cocktails I had. I’m fucked. I need to get out of here so I can crash into bed. You okay to leave with me?” Marla was suddenly plopping down at the table as she slurred her speech.

Y/n laughed, glad for the interruption. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Harry’s comment, “Yeah. We can get out of here. Where’s Gina and Cyndee?”

Marla pointed at the edge of the dance floor. Two men flanked them with drinks in hand.

“As you can see, they’re fine.”

Marla, Y/n, and Harry stopped by to say goodbye to Cyndee and Gina before leaving the loud bar. The night air was sobering as she used her Uber app to call for a taxi. Harry stayed with them, like the gentleman he was until their ride showed up.

Marla flung herself into the car as Y/n squeezed Harry’s arm, “Thanks, Harry. I’ll see you… I don’t know when, but this was fun! Yeah? Oh! It’ll probably be for your birthday, right? Party at our house. That’s right,” Y/n was mostly talking to herself. They were throwing him a party. Of course, it was going to be a big bash. Tons of college kids and family and drinking since he was turning 21.

Harry nodded, “Yeah. Weekend after next. Saturday. I think I’ll come over Friday night and stay the whole weekend.”

.           .           .

Harry had always liked Y/n. She was sweet to him from the start. Right off he could tell she wasn’t like Leonardo’s other girlfriends. He’d gone through a lot of them and when he decided he liked Y/n enough to keep around, Harry was genuinely happy about it. His dad was kind of cold and overly structured at times but he always took care of his family and Harry wouldn’t mind having Y/n around. He was 19 when he met her.

Harry’s mom left Leo when he was just a boy. She remarried years later and Harry hadn’t seen her so happy ever. He chalked it up to his dad’s standoffish behavior. He barely showed Harry, love, even. But It was okay for Harry that way. His mom was warm and raised him well. She showed him more love than he’d ever need in a lifetime. She made up where his dad lacked.

So for that, Harry did feel a bit sad, for Y/n, who had such a bright smile and contagious laugh, to marry such a cold creature as his father. The kind that his mother left. His friends joked that Y/n was a gold-digger and they urged him to try and mess around with her. See how far he could take it. But that was out of the question. Not because his stepmom wasn’t smoking hot, but because she was his stepmom. There was just so much wrong with that.

It did irk him, though, that he found her so pretty. But it wasn’t just that. She was smart too. She was easy to talk to and she could keep up with Harry’s little goofy jokes and she never took herself too seriously. Despite having her lips painted red and wearing high-fashion couture courtesy of Leonardo Styles, she was fun and kind.

Harry also benefited from his dad’s money, though. Just because he opted to live with his mother until college didn’t mean he didn’t have everything he wanted. A nice car, nice clothes, vacations with friends, concerts, sporting events, the newest cellphone. Leo didn’t bat an eye if Harry wanted something. And eventually even gave him a credit card to use for anything he wanted.

Yeah, Leo Styles was fucking wealthy. Dirty wealthy. The kind that people hate to see because it’s so excessive and unnecessary that it’s ugly.

But what could Harry do? His dad was a little cold and filthy rich. He didn’t control how his dad dealt with his money, though plenty of people also lumped Harry in with all that. Assumed he was some spoiled rotten brat who’d grow up like his father.

And that was just the thing, though. His dad wasn’t mean or bad per se. He was just rich because of the Styles’ family fortune. And he rarely showed any emotion. His dad did do nice things for the community and donated to good causes, threw fundraisers, and funded schools for children with special needs and gymnasiums for the local children who didn’t have a place to go and play freely.

And he wanted a wife that was smart and pretty. Someone with a brain who could handle a good conversation with grace. Harry understood the arrangement well. There was no love involved but it was a marriage of convenience for both of them. No harm, no foul. Harry didn’t mind it. Others seemed to have heavier opinions about it, though.

“Damn, Harry. You gotta do something about that. She keeps looking over here at you. While she looks like that? Let’s get your v-card taken care of once and for all.”

“Stop it, Jay. She’s my stepmom.”

“So? You told me yourself she’s just married to your dad for the money-“

“No, that’s not what I said. And it doesn’t matter what kind of thing she and my dad have going on. It’s not gonna happen.”

“God look at her. She’s fucking fine, Harry. She wants you too. I can tell. Look you don’t have to take my advice but this one,” he said as he gestured toward Y/n, “She’s a tiger in bed. I guarantee. Look at her move. Bet she could show you a thing or two.”

Harry shoved Jay and shook his head as he looked away before he was caught staring at his stepmom again.

She was hot. Her skirt was short and her little top kept riding up so he could get the tiniest peek of her waistline each time she raised her arms. Harry didn’t want to let his mind wander to those kinds of places. He’d already recognized how gorgeous she was. Liked her personality and how funny she was. If she were younger and not his stepmom, maybe. Maybe.

“Rebecca’s over there. I’m gonna go dance with her a bit. Sheila is too. You should come out and dance! Meet someone! Get laid!”

Harry sighed and sipped his beer as he leaned away from Jay’s arm, “No thanks.”

He did want to get laid of course. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have found a willing participant. It just hadn’t ever happened. He’d messed around a bit but in all honesty, Harry had a hard time wrapping his mind around a quick fling or something that was only sex. He liked connection and love. Wanted that whole thing with someone before getting to that point in the relationship. He knew it was silly to take it so seriously. And it wasn’t like keeping his virginity was his goal. It was just that he wanted it to be with someone special. Yeah, he was a bit of a sap like that.

But no one would know it really. That Harry was a big sap. A virgin at almost 21. Only his closest friends knew and they were sworn to secrecy. People assumed Harry had had lots of sex. That he was fucking people left and right. Because Harry was a flirt. He was super smooth and confident and charming. The kind of man people would imagine just had tons of sex. Plus he was incredibly attractive.

When Y/n was suddenly stood next to him at the bar, sweat at her hairline and soft lips with a cute smile as she spoke to him closely about how he was just sitting at the stool, not making the most of his first time in a bar with a fake ID, he felt his stomach twist. Maybe it was her scent, or the alcohol coursing through his veins, or the way she kept looking at him while she was dancing. Whatever it was, he knew he’d just moved into dangerous territory in his mind.

But she pulled at his hair and licked her lips and stood close so she could speak in his ear and he was easily convinced to finally get up and go dance with her.

Dancing wasn’t really a big deal to him. He wasn’t shy to dance. He honestly didn’t care all that much what people thought of him. He just didn’t want to get out there and dance while she was dancing like that. While she was looking at him in that way. Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Something had slipped out of its normal position for Harry that night. He was thinking of his stepmom in very inappropriate ways and he was powerless to stop the indecent thoughts he had about her body and her lips and her voice. It was so wrong.

When he turned her around and put his hands on her hips he allowed his fingers to wander over her skin to the very spot he’d been watching each time she lifted her arms. But this time he pushed the material up to give the pads of his fingers access. And she didn’t stop him.

Her hair smelled good and when he spoke against her ear she got goosebumps. Fucking goosebumps from his voice in her ear.

But then the unthinkable happened and she pressed herself into his front. And luckily she was just off to the left a bit because had she been to the right another inch or so she’d have felt him. He was thick under his dark jeans and it was because of his stepmom.

Her skin and her lips and her hair and the way she smelled and reacted to him. But he had to stop. He backed away knowing that it was the smart move. Hating that it was the smart move.

He came down the shower drain imagining Y/n on her knees with his cock down her throat, gagging and urging him to go in deeper that night after the bar. He closed his eyes and yanked himself and he orgasmed so embarrassingly fast to the image of her. His stepmom. That was the first time he’d masturbated to Y/n’s image. And it felt dirty. It felt forbidden and disgusting.

But then he did it again the following evening in his bed. He was thankful for having his own room in the frat house. Stroking his cock as his thighs quivered and his head was thrown back into the pillow under him, imagining Y/n riding his cock and showing him what she liked had him gasping as he came all over himself.

He tried to move on and get things back to normal in his brain about her. The way they were before that night at the bar. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Part of that was because of how she responded to him, flirted with him. The way she was looking at him and how she danced with him. He knew he didn’t imagine it. She was into it. And now that he knew that… well, the result left Harry tugging one out to his stepmom every night thereafter.

.           .           .

The party was going to be big. Leonardo told Harry to invite everyone he wanted. And of course, he and Y/n invited their friends too.

There was a DJ, a catering staff with bartenders and lots of presents.

Y/n was helping with the setup. Friday was busy for her, the day before the party. She’d almost forgotten about Harry mentioning he’d be coming on Friday to stay the whole weekend. Almost.

In fact, she hadn’t forgotten at all. She tried pushing that memory down but it was still there, underneath everything. Her nerves were wild as she helped direct some of the landscapers and people bringing gifts in from the guests. Tables and chairs, and a dance floor laid near the area where the DJ would be set up. Speakers were placed all over the estate so music could be heard no matter where anyone was.

She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come that evening as he said.

But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.

Looking down at the placement of the dance floor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.

She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.

In the early afternoon, the landscapers had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.

But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully, before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.

The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.

She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.

Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”

She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.

“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.

Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.

Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”

Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted creep. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.

She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.

Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!

Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…

Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.

Knocking at his cracked-open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.

Porn.

He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.

Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed

Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…

She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“

But he stopped short, a sharp inhaled breath into his lungs cutting off his words. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.

“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“

Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”

Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.

He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”

“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”

Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.

“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, causing him to look back down at her, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“

“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”

She let go of his arm and she felt like she could faint. She grasped onto the door jamb and wobbled as she looked down at her feet to steady herself and then back up at Harry.

“Are you okay? Here, let’s sit.” Harry took her arm from the door jamb and slowly guided her to her sit down on his bed where he promptly shut his laptop and moved the forsaken thing away from them, hidden from view.

“I’m okay,” she put her hands up and blinked her eyes as she turned to look at Harry next to her on the bed. “I didn’t expect that is all. That it had anything to do with- I just…”

“But that night at the club. That was… well… haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I know that’s inappropriate.”

Y/n bit her bottom lip and nodded before taking a deep breath, “Yeah. I guess. Me too.”

“You too? What?”

She turned to look at his verdant crystal eyes, “I can’t stop thinking about it. And it is inappropriate. And I take all the blame. It was my fault that it even got as far as it did. I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry shushed her and took her hand, “No. Don’t be sorry. This isn’t just on you. I’m an adult too, Y/n. This is on me just as much. So, I’m sorry. I feel like I probably pushed it that night. I was the one that touched you and made up that story about that guy.”

She recollected that night and the short conversation they had about the guy that was trying to dance with her when Harry had put his hand on her hip. The man was looking at her so she thought what he said was true. She hadn’t even questioned it, “You mean that man… that he wasn’t… you did…” she couldn’t finish her thought. It was. A lot. That revelation felt dense with just enough muscle to peel away some kind of layer of wool that had been placed securely over the situation in safety.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know what got into me that night. I really didn’t mean for any of this- It’s… my fault. I started it. I’m really sorry.”

She felt like they were somewhat on even ground now. He’d done that. She wouldn’t absolve herself of blame. No, not at all. She was still the heavy in this situation. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel exonerated by his admission. She was seven years older and his stepmom. She was ultimately to blame.

“God, Harry. Please. I’m…” she paused. His gaze on hers was hard to break. His soft mint eyes made him appear so pure and blameless. But then his deep raspberry lips, darkly pigmented against his face were seductive. Harry was like a siren. An enchanter. He was beautiful.

“No. You’re… amazing and I’ve just gone too far. It’s okay. This is silly,” he laughed and disconnected their eye contact as he looked downward, “This is-“ he looked back up at her and felt his heart thrum hard in his ribs, “silly.” His last word, just a whisper. A word he didn’t believe.

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on his, “And you surely have other options anyway. It’s just a phase. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to pick from. The charmer you are,” she chuckled lightly trying to lighten the mood and suggest it was temporary. That he could be with any young college girl he wanted. Probably had someone lined up for his birthday party even.

Harry’s brows cinched together and he shook his head, “No. I don’t. You don’t know this about me but… I’m actually…” he sighed and looked upward not wanting to see her expression when he told her, “virgin.”

That was not what she expected. Not at all. First of all, Harry Styles was beautiful. He was a sight! A paragon on legs with a gorgeously calming voice and the sweetest disposition anyone could ever dream of. He was perfection if there ever was such a thing. His beauty went before him but his grace and kindness were what made him so appealing. So utterly attractive. How was it that this astonishingly amazing man, absolutely as nice as anyone could ever be, was a virgin? Not to mention he had his dad’s money at the helm. There was nothing about Harry that wouldn’t get him laid in an instant.

“Virgin? Seriously?” She stuttered, “Umm… but not that there’s anything wrong with that…” She almost didn’t believe him as she asked. They’d never discussed this of course, but in her mind, it was quite impossible that he had never had sex.

“It’s true. Yeah. S’embarrassing but I really want it with… not just anyone. I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t done anything… but I’m not like I’m sleeping with whomever I can.”

Y/n nodded. She got it. As a female that was a conundrum she had as well.

Well, it was slightly different but the basics of why she didn’t just go and sleep with anyone was the same when she was his age. It was because she felt deeply about things. Wanted it to mean something. It didn’t always after she learned that others didn’t feel the same way she did. She learned that getting hurt was sometimes part of relationships. Part of sex. As sad as that was.

“Oh.” She smiled at him and spoke softly, “That’s how I used to feel too. Thought it should be special. But then when I thought it was going to be, the guy didn’t care so it turned out it was only special for me. I realized it didn’t really matter what I wanted. I can’t control what everyone around me wants.”

Harry felt his heart pinch at her words. That wasn’t fair. And that was exactly what had him so worried. That he would give it his all only to have the other person feel as if it was nothing important. Just a moment in time.

But it was a big moment in time. It should mean something. Both people should feel its presence and its significance.

They remained silent for a moment as Harry threaded his fingers in between Y/n’s and licked his lips, “Are we alone?”

She turned her head to look at the man. The whole scenario was unbelievable to her. They’d both admitted attraction and that they’d overstepped boundaries. They also both felt bad about it all. But what did that mean? Did that mean she should just stand up and tell him not to worry about it and not to bring it up ever again? Tell him she won’t say anything if he doesn’t say anything? Give him a hug and a pat on the back?

Yes. That is exactly what she should do.

Unhooking her fingers from his she leaned in and hugged him before standing up from his bed, “Your dad will be home late. So, it’s probably better if I go downstairs and do something to keep me busy. This,” she moved her fingers to point at him and then herself, “we can just chalk up to some bad timing and hormones or whatever. Don’t worry about it. I think it’ll be better for us to just pretend it never happened.”

Harry stood up abruptly, his height overtaking Y/n’s significantly with how close he stood, “Just like that? Just forget that we both said those things?”

She took a step back as she kept her eyes on his, “Yeah. Don’t you think that’s for the best? I mean, Harry… I’m your stepmom.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and frowned as he put his hands on his hips and moved away from the bed. He walked toward his door and turned back, “You can forget it and pretend it never happened if you like. I won’t be, though. I’m not going to say anything but I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen either.”

Her heart dropped. She hoped he’d just brush it all off and try to move on. That was the best way to go about all of this. It’s not like they could have some kind of affair anyway. He was too young and his dad was her husband. It would be crazy to do such a thing.

“I mean… what did you want here? I feel like moving on is the best thing for both of us.”

Harry breathed out an incredulous laugh and shook his head, “I don’t know. Honestly. Thought…” he looked down at his shoes, “No one needed to know. No one would know.”

“No one needed to know what?”

Harry lifted his gaze up to Y/n’s, “If we… kissed or… anything. It would be easy. Dad’s never home. And you’re so-“ he blinked his eyes and she watched as he honed in on the spot where her breasts were under her t-shirt. She hadn’t put a bra on before slipping the shirt on in her haste to wish him a happy birthday, “Kind and patient. Feel like that would be really nice.”

She felt like her jaw was on the floor. Felt like that would be really nice. She couldn’t argue that. It would be really nice. A man with a warm heart in her bed. Someone she could show what she wanted without worry that he’d be offended. A man that looked like Harry. Young and with all that stamina. She imagined that he probably would want it a lot, especially now that she knew he was a virgin. That he’s been so neglected and that the moment he got a taste of it he’d never want to stop…

She shook her head before she allowed her mind to go too far into that hole, “We can’t, Harry. You understand that right,” she bit her lip. She wanted to grab him by his hips and smear her mouth over his as she pushed him into his bed and had them reenact the stepmom and stepson share a bed porno he had up on his laptop.

Harry nodded, his face set in an unreadable expression, “Of course, Y/n. I wouldn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want. I’m sorry.”

She hated that he kept saying sorry. That he felt bad for any of this when it was on her as well, “Please, Harry. Stop saying you’re sorry. You’re not to blame. I just think we should keep level heads here. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

His breathing deepened so much that Y/n could see the way his chest rose and fell under his shirt. She noted his gaze taking her in, not just her eyes, but her lips and her neck, her hips where the shirt stopped and her leggings showed under, “Oh… Y/n…” he shook his head, “I’ve definitely not been innocent. If my porn history isn’t enough to apologize for then my dirty thoughts surely are. You’d certainly agree that I should be apologizing if you knew the sorts of things I fantasize about with you.”

Y/n looked down. She couldn’t take his saturating gaze and these admissions any longer, “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. It’s okay that it’s private and as long as it’s not acted on… you shouldn’t feel bad.”

“Of course.” Harry gestured toward the hallway as he looked at Y/n. There was nothing more to be said on the matter. Harry knew she was right.

She nodded as she exited his room and heard him close the door behind her as she stepped out into the hallway. All she wanted to do was to tell him happy birthday. But instead, she left confused and frustrated and far more guilty than she had been before. She had no idea how to navigate this. But she only knew that no one could know their secret.

.           .           .

The caterers arrived before everyone else to get things set up. Small little aluminum warmers lit to keep the food warm. The bar was set up with a washing station and glassware (none of that plastic stuff Leo had said). The sound equipment was tested. Everything was going to be amazing, Y/n thought. For Harry’s 21st birthday party, this was surely going to be a great time.

She hadn’t seen Harry after their encounter in his bedroom the day before. He’d been quiet the rest of the evening. He didn’t even come down to eat.

Leo arrived home just after midnight and today he was working a little, tying up loose ends for something Y/n didn’t bother to pay attention to. Her mind was elsewhere anyway. Her thoughts kept wandering to Harry. Was he okay? Certainly, he wouldn’t be too upset. They hadn’t even really done anything. And they shouldn’t! Plus he was so young and he would have plenty of time to find someone special. She couldn’t be that for him. Certainly not.

Just before she’d had the chance to run upstairs to her room to get her party outfit in order she caught a glimpse of Harry as he was leaving the kitchen. His dark curls were messy. He looked like he had just gotten up.

She laughed to herself. A typical 21-year-old. Sleeping half the day away so he could stay up late and party with his friends tonight. She felt like that was a good sign.

Her dress was modest and what she deemed appropriate. She had originally selected something different for the party, but after her talk with Harry the night before, she went a more conservative route. Perhaps he’d ignore her when he saw the other pretty girls his age that he knew at the party. She hoped there would be someone else that caught his eye. Someone that could make him forget all about whatever it was that happened between them.

She pulled her hair into a low bun, smoothing the bits that always tended to poke out from a sleek do. It was easy to keep her hair this way. And it was more mature too she felt. Rather than keeping her hair down in styled waves or curls, the low bun was a nod to her stage in life. The married woman with a stepson stage.

She decided to not wear perfume or lipstick either. She wanted to do anything she could to fade into the background for the party. She’d be running around anyway, at the beck and call of the people working the party should they need anything. She knew it was probably unnecessary as the people they’d hired were all professionals and some of the best in the industry. But she felt she would need to keep herself busy.

The first to arrive were Leo’s parents (Harry’s grandparents) and then Harry’s mom, Anne. Anne had been around a lot for the last few days helping Y/n get everything sorted. Y/n was actually quite fond of Anne. Harry’s mother was a saint. She loved that her relationship with Leo’s ex was so good.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Anne smiled as she backed away from the hug Y/n had given her.

“Oh! I think he might still be getting ready. I believe he slept in late. Saw the back of his head about an hour ago and he appeared to be half asleep,” Y/n laughed.

As more of the guests arrived, Y/n noted the young women and men Harry had invited. Plenty of attractive and exciting college kids.

The music was started and drinks were being served but she still had not seen Harry. Nor Leo for that matter (though she wasn’t surprised to have not seen Leo – probably absorbed in his work).

Going inside and tiptoeing her way up toward Harry’s bedroom to urge him to come out and join his own party she found that his door was closed. She applied two knocks to the wood as she put her ear in close to hear anything.

When it was silent and the door didn’t open, she knocked again. Harder, “Harry? You in there? Party’s getting started without you!”

Suddenly the door was pulled open and before her was her stepson looking like he was ready to kill. Not kill in the way that was violent, but kill with his looks. Kill with the way he’d dressed and left half his buttons undone at the top, a sheer milky white shirt with cream embroidered flowers draping away from his chest and allowing peeks of his tattoos. Black, well-fitted jeans and black Chelsea boots. His signature cross necklace hung between his pecs.

“Wanted to be fashionably late. You know… birthday boy and all,” he raised his brows unamused at Y/n and she felt the condescension drip from his words, “After you… step mummy,” he gestured for her to lead the way.

She was stunned by his tiny attitude. It wasn’t much. He hadn’t been particularly rude but his tone and his cheek were new. He was normally very polite with her. Very sweet and all smiles.

She nodded as she began to head down the stairs, Harry behind her. The moment they walked out to the garden Harry headed in a direction away from her. Without a word. But that was good. He should go and have fun with his friends.

Y/n had invited Marla to the party, which she was thankful for. Marla kept her mind off the tall young man of the hour.

“I can never get over how fantastic this place is. And look at all this,” Marla waved her wine glass above her head as she gestured toward the decorations, “This looks magical! When I fall in love and get married, can I have my wedding here?”

“You have to find the right man first. Ryan’s not it.” They laughed together.

Y/n wasn’t nearly as busy as she thought she’d be. As she hoped she’d be. She drank a few glasses of wine and checked on the guests but Anne had most things under control as did the staff that were taking care of everything.

She kept wishing she had more to do because her eyes kept searching for Harry. She spotted him over and over again. He was drinking whisky, with his friends laughing, and of course, there was one girl he was talking to.

She scolded herself at the touch of jealousy she felt. The girl was Harry’s age. Lovely young thing. But when she saw just the two of them talking as Harry had a hand flat on the bench behind the girl she hated how close they were standing. How flirty he looked. She especially didn’t like that the girl would reach out for his buttons and pluck at them every so often.

But why should she be jealous? He was a 21-year-old guy and he was her stepson. It was quite silly to feel anything other than happiness for him.

The cherry on top was after Leo gave his speech and everyone toasted and then the DJ began to play house music. The dance floor was packed and Y/n watched on as Harry and the young girl danced together, much in the same way he’d danced with her two weeks prior. His lanky body moved behind hers, his hand at her hip, his face close to her ear as he said god-knows-what to her.

She wanted to go out and dance too. There was no reason for her to not dance. Just because Harry was out there, enjoying his time, she didn’t need to wallow at the edge and watch the fun.

“Let’s dance!” Y/n pulled Marla with her to the dance floor.

It was just like their normal Friday night outings and since the night before they didn’t get to go out because Y/n had been busy with the party setup, tonight would be girl’s night for her and Marla.

The two laughed and moved their bodies to the beat, holding their wine glasses as level as they could so it didn’t slosh out.

She was finally having fun. Finally felt the anxiety and the guilt melt away as she danced and drank a little more wine. She had been silly to be jealous or upset. There was no reason for any of that.

But then she saw his eyes on hers. He hadn’t been looking at her all night. She figured that was for the best. But now he was watching her as he danced with the girl in the white mini-dress. His gaze was cold. His face set in a glowering smirk as he spoke something to the girl. She watched as the young woman leaned her head back to look up at Harry and his lips nipped at the space just below her ear.

She felt she could vomit. It was too much. She thought she was okay but she didn’t want to see that. Didn’t want to watch as Harry kissed anyone else and looked at her with such disdain. Was he mad at her?

She excused herself to Marla and rushed into the big house, moving into the kitchen to set her glass down. There were people in the house. Chatting, laughing, and some even dancing inside.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she leaned over the island and tried to calm her brain. What was she doing? What was wrong with her?

Warm hands covered the tops of her shoulders and the deep rasp of her stepson was in her ear before she could even open her eyes, “I need to talk to you.”

She jumped in surprise and turned around quickly as Harry ticked his head toward the stairs and he began heading toward them. She followed behind, moving up the steps with him and she assumed he would want to talk in the hallway or his room but he continued walking past his door and to the other side of the house toward her bedroom.

Without even a pause he opened her door and entered her room as if he owned it. As if it were his room.

She followed in behind him, her face set in confusion. She couldn’t know what he was going to say or what he wanted to talk about.

“Was offered a blowjob,” he blurted out as he paced. “From Leslie. She’s cute and I’m… anyway… I wanted to tell you,” he stopped and looked at Y/n, moving toward her, “in case you wanted to… maybe you’d changed your mind or-“ he ran a hand through his hair.

“What?” She was stunned, “You… why are you telling me?”

“Because I want… you, Y/n.” He said with finality.

Harry was stood close with his pink lips parted as he looked down at Y/n. He was serious. He was dead serious and she was surprised. The young girl was pretty and she wanted to give him a blowjob… “Me? What about… Leslie? She’s so cute and-“

“Not as cute as you. Ever since that night, I can’t stop thinking about you.” He cocked his head and smirked, “And I like this look,” Harry moved his hand to the material of her dress gently before letting his hand drop down to his side, “Perfect length so no one gets any ideas about you. A modest silhouette. Your hair falling out of this bun you tried to hold it in,” his hand moved upward again to push the hair off her shoulder that had indeed come undone from the bun.

“You must have had too much to drink. I’m not what you’re looking for-“

“You are. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for. And I’m not drunk, Y/n. Not even close.”

Her breaths deepened as Harry’s hand stayed at her neck where he’d pushed her hair. His thumb rubbed over her pulse point slowly. And he was suffocating, crippling her resolve. Making her question her sanity. She couldn’t allow this. Could she?

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t. We… we can’t.”

Harry licked his lips, “We can actually because no one would know. Want it to be you. Want you to show me. I trust you.” He didn’t lose his composure as his palm moved upward and his thumb brushed the outer corner of her mouth.

She closed her eyes and allowed her mouth to part the slightest. She didn’t know what she was doing. Letting him stand so close. Letting him speak to her about this. Letting him touch her lips. Letting his words sink into her core.

“Harry…” she breathed out his name as she felt the pad of his thumb press over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained closed. This wasn’t happening. If she kept her eyes closed she wasn’t here and this wasn’t happening. It was just a fantasy.

The trouble was though, that it was happening. And even with her eyes closed she could feel him and how he was standing so close she could smell the whisky on his breath and feel his body heat next to hers. Feel his thumb push past her lips the slightest as her tongue poked out to taste the tiniest bit. Felt his hand grip her face and his smooth mouth on hers and his hand on her waist and his chest pressed to hers.

She forced her fingers into his hair and moaned into his mouth but then- in a sudden moment of clarity, she pushed at his chest and shook her head, “This is wrong. We can’t, Harry. You get that, right?”

Harry backed away and looked down at his feet, “I do. You don’t want me.”

She nearly blurted out to him that that was incorrect. That she did want him. That she’d fantasized about him far too often but it was unhealthy and it could only lead to disaster.

Instead, she stayed quiet. He needed to drop this. She needed to stop this. It had gone too far.

When he left her room she sat down on her bed. Now she’d gone and kissed him. Tasted his lips and the way he kissed her felt so real and so passionate. She’d missed that bit of passion. That sort of enthusiasm. It wasn’t something Leo gave her at all. She didn’t even know it was something she was missing. But Harry had woken something up in her. Ever since that night. And now the kiss had felt like she was beyond getting back to ignoring that need she’d buttoned up and pushed down. She wanted more. But that couldn’t happen.

She was surprised by Harry’s gall too. He was quite pushy, which she hadn’t expected of him. Harry, who was so gentle and thoughtful and sweet was really adamant about pursuing her.

Her tummy was still warm and filled with butterflies. He’d kissed her. And she wanted to take it further but she couldn’t. That was out of the question.

.           .           .

When most of the guests had gone and the house grew quiet Y/n sat outside under the twinkle lights. She’d turn them off before going in and calling it a night but she wanted a few moments of peace with the last bit of the bottle of wine she’d worked her way through after Harry had gone and scrambled her good sense.

Good sense. What a laugh. As if she had any good sense after that night at the bar. It should have never gotten as far as it had.

Y/n was also sitting outside in hopes of making sure Leslie left before she went back in. Or at least gave Harry enough time to get his blowjob or whatever it was that was going on in his bedroom.

Because Y/n was well aware that Harry had her in there. He made a show of it in fact.

When she’d gotten back outside after calming herself from the kiss, Harry had Leslie against the side of the house with his tongue down her throat. And as much as she tried to ignore that and pretend she wasn’t bothered by it, she was bothered. It hurt her feelings but she shouldn’t feel hurt. Harry should be doing things with girls his age and losing his virginity to anyone that wasn’t his stepmom.

But she kept looking over at them and when she caught Harry gazing back at her as he kissed Leslie she could almost feel her hair singe in anger. He was doing it on purpose. To make Y/n jealous.

And before he brought her into the house he casually introduced Leslie to her and then leaned in to whisper to Y/n with his whisky breath, “Last chance.”

So, not only was she a little hurt she was a little pissed. Because he was being downright bratty with it.

Half of her hoped that Leslie would take his virginity and he’d get it out of his system and that would be that.

The other part of her, the depraved, nonsensical evil bit that she kept pushed deep deep down away from anyone, wanted to make him pay for being a little jerk to her. She imagined spanking him even, which was ridiculous because he was so much larger than she was. As if he’d somehow fit over her lap and bare his ass to her for a spanking. She laughed at her thoughts but they didn’t end there.

The more wine that wound its way into her bloodstream the filthier her fantasies got. He’d grow hard after she punished him and then she’d show him what a real blowjob was like. Make him forget all about Leslie. She’d let him feel her throat on him but wouldn’t allow him to come. Instead, then she’d pull him down by his hair between her legs and guide him over her, giving him specific instructions for cunnilingus. And he’d keep licking at her and begging for more of her even after she’d come. He wouldn’t want to stop tasting her but then she’d tell him to stop – that only good boys deserve more.

Of course, the fantasy ends with him begging her to take his virginity and then making him eat his come from her pussy since he came too fast, like the virgin he is.

Depraved. But god was she turned on just thinking about it. She bet he’d like all that too.

Plucking her bottle of wine up she flicked the lights off and went into the house. No sense in staying outside and hoping Harry was quiet enough when she went inside. Plus she was quite tipsy and just needed to be put to bed.

Putting the bottle down on the counter she heard Leo sitting in the living room on a call.

It was nearly 2 am so she was surprised he was chatting with anyone but she could tell it was something for work. Plans for a business trip.

Instead of waiting and talking to him, she made her way up to her bedroom. She slowly passed Harry’s room and noticed that there was a light on but no noises to be heard, thankfully.

And she wasn’t jealous. Of course, she wasn’t. What was there to be jealous of?

After a warm shower and slathering her body in lotion, she opened her ensuite bathroom door and stopped dead in her tracks.

“What are you doing in here?”

Harry was lying on her bed, sprawled out on top of her comforter wearing the clothes he wore at his party minus his boots.

Harry lifted his head and snorted a laugh, “Wanted to say g’night to my stepmom. But then I laid on your bed,” Y/n could hear the slur in his speech and saw the way his eyes floated in his sockets as he looked at her, “and it’s so comfortable.” He pressed his palms down and moaned at the feel before plopping his head back onto her stack of feather pillows.

She stood over him and placed her hands at her hips. She was thankful she’d put on her robe before stepping out of her room. Half the time she opted to walk around her bedroom naked.

“Well, goodnight, then Harry. It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

Harry squeezed his eyes closed and the grin on his mouth widened as he spoke, “Mmm… but this feels so good. S’cozy right here.”

Y/n sat at the end of the bed and sighed. He was clearly drunk. Earlier he hadn’t been when she kissed him. Now, he was very clearly inebriated.

“Your bed is cozy too, though. You should go back to your room. Get some rest.”

Harry propped himself up by his elbows and planted his eyes on hers, “You’ve been in my bed? When?”

Shaking her head and laughing at the absurdity of this whole scenario she spoke, “I know your bed is comfortable because I helped Leo pick out your new mattress. It’s the same one as this.” She patted the bed under her.

Harry nodded slowly and she noticed his gaze at her cleavage so she tightened her robe just as there was a knock at her door.

A gasp fell from her lips and she shoved Harry off the bed, whispering, “Under the bed! It’s your father!”

Harry huffed a laugh and put his hands up in surrender, “Yes, ma’am.”

She hushed him as he scooted himself under her bed and Y/n ran to her bathroom door, “Yes!”

The door opened and Leo stepped in, a suitcase left in the doorway, “I just wanted to let you know I’ve got a sudden meeting tomorrow late morning so I’ve got to take the 5:00 am out to Savannah.”

Putting the towel up to her hair to act as if she’d just gotten out of the shower (she sort of had) she walked across the room to him, “Really? When will you be back?”

“Day after tomorrow. It’s a morning meeting, then golf, then dinner. Then the next morning I have a flight that gets me back in LA at noon.”

She smiled and slid her arms over his shoulders to bring him in for a quick hug and he caught her off guard by kissing her cheek and squeezing her back before pulling away, “Car’s outside waiting,” he ticked his head toward the door, “Tell Harry when he emerges tomorrow for me, will ya?”

When she shut her door and turned toward her bed she let out a breath of relief. She was glad Harry stayed quiet. But then she realized as she lifted her bed skirt that he’d fallen asleep down there.

Rolling her eyes she contemplated what to do. Leave him there? Wake him and help him back to his room? She really didn’t want to deal with getting him into his bedroom. Nor did she want to deal with a drunk Harry by waking him up. But ultimately her guilt wouldn’t let her leave him there on the floor. He deserved to sleep in a bed.

“Harry… come on… wake up. Leo’s gone,” she pushed at his arm gently, “Harry…” she said tunefully, elongating the yyyyyy at the end of his name.

Pulling at his arm she got him part of the way out from under her bed and lifted his arm up, “Come on… wake up,” she lightly patted his face and that seemed to do it.

Harry’s eyes opened up and landed on hers. Sparkling and green and soft. And drunk.

“Let’s get you up. Come on. Time for bed.” She helped him sit up and tucked herself under his arm and began to stand to help him upward. But he was dead weight.

“Can I please stay with you? Please, Y/n? Your bed is so soft.”

She looked at him as he spoke and she realized he was not going to make it to his room. He’d have to sleep on her bed.

But that was fine. She’d just put him in her bed and then go sleep in any of the other guest rooms. It was better than letting him sleep on the floor or attempting to walk him to his bedroom.

“You can sleep in my bed. That’s fine. Can you lift up with me?”

Harry’s smile took over his features and his pink lips looked wet and soft. He was super cute when he was drunk.

“For real?” Harry raised an arm and steadied himself with the edge of the bed, the other side assisted by Y/n as he was pushed upward to his feet.

“There we go. Okay…” Y/n nudged him to sit and Harry’s full weight fell onto the bed and he laughed.

He immediately went to grab at his pant button and Y/n paused and put her hand on his shoulder, “Uh, just lie down. I’ll go and get you some water. Be right back.”

She was doing her best. Truly. She was quite tipsy herself and her bed had been calling before Harry showed up in her room. And now here she was traipsing across the massive home to get her stepson a glass of water. She figured he’d appreciate that when he woke up in the morning. And she had hoped that by the time she returned to her room, he’d be asleep and she could sneak out and go to the nearest guest bedroom and crash there. She was tired.

But when she returned to her room, Harry had successfully pulled his pants and sheer button-up shirt off and was left in nothing but his grey boxer briefs. And he was not asleep.

Placing the water next to the side of the bed he was on, which was where she’d normally be sleeping she noted, Harry stretched his arms behind his head and smiled, “Hop in.”

She shook her head and laughed as she pulled her charger from the wall and grabbed her cell phone, “No, Harry. That’s not a good idea,” she turned off the lamp on the far side of the room and began to walk toward the door.

He sat up quickly, “Wait. You said… You’re not staying with me?”

Y/n turned to look at him, handsome and messy.

And her stepson she reminded herself.

“I’ll just be next door. Think it’s best we’re not sleeping in the same bed, Harry. Just lie down and-“

“No. Please,” Harry tried to pull himself out of the bed but his motions were lethargic and clumsy, “want you here. Just… stay with me. Please. I swear no funny business.”

She sighed and began to shake her head and repeat herself but when Harry started to place his long legs down onto the floor she rushed back to him so he wouldn’t hurt himself. That was her logic anyway. She didn’t want him to fall or crack his skull open.

Steadying him by his arms she pushed him back toward the bed, “Stay. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Harry hummed and reached up to put his fingers in her hair, “I’ll stay if you stay. If you go to the guest room I’ll just follow you like a puppy dog, Y/n.” His words were watery and his gestures were clumsy.

She closed her eyes and groaned. She was so tired. So tired. And she just wanted to lie down. And she certainly couldn’t have Harry attempting to follow her to another room and hurt himself by falling down the stairs or something.

“Fine. But you just go to sleep. I’ll stay here with you but you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep and behave.” She pointed at him.

Harry’s exaggerated grin returned as he laid his head back onto the pillow and watched her cross the room to turn off the last lamp.

Fuck, she cursed to herself under her breath. She’d forgotten to put on pajamas. She was naked under her robe.

But okay. No problem. She’d just leave her robe on and it would be fine.

Climbing into bed, on the odd side, she stretched her limbs as she laid flat and closed her eyes. She was just so tired.

“Thank you. For staying. I promise I’ll behave.”

.           .           .

Y/n’s alarm woke her up and she groaned and reached over to turn it off but instead, her palm found a bare, solid chest. She popped her eyes open and the events of the previous night had come rushing back. She let Harry sleep in her bed and she was reaching over toward where her phone normally was but she’d been on the opposite side of the bed.

Rolling over to press the alarm off she sighed as she snuggled back into her pillow. 6:45 am was too early to be up for a Sunday. She contemplated moving herself to a guest room since Harry was still asleep but her soft bed lulled her back into a deep sleep where her dreams were vivid and she found herself kissing Harry again. But this time, her dream took it further and she was on his lap and then they were in his bed. By any standards, it was a very good dream. A very good one.

So when she woke up for the second time that morning things were… different. Her head was not on her soft pillow and there was a hand on her bottom. She slowly came out of her easy dream state, still reeling from the kind of dream she’d just had of her stepson when she realized her cheek was smushed on Harry’s pec and it was Harry’s big palm on her bottom slowly, slowly, slowly moving down toward her thigh. He was awake.

Her dream-riddled brain mulled over what was happening. It was a slow rise but her awareness steadily stirred. Her robe had come undone and her thigh was over Harry’s. His chest was rising and falling gently and she realized her palm was over his heart, which she could feel thudding underneath. She had cuddled up to him like he was one of those body pillows.

It was nice. It felt soft and lazy and sweet to lie in her bed on a Sunday morning in the arms of a man. And the leftover remnants of her dream had her still feeling wound up.

Hesitantly, she moved her head to look upward and Harry’s hand halted when her gaze met his.

She could see him swallow and he spoke groggily, “Sorry. You were… I didn’t want to wake you.”

The way his sonorous voice reverberated from his chest against her skin and her shoulder made her meltier than she already was.

Her hand was still over his chest and she could feel his heart rate increase as he kept his eyes on hers, “It’s okay. Thank you for letting me sleep.” She was going to move. To get up and pull her robe securely around her body so he didn’t catch a glimpse of anything but she didn’t want to move. She wanted to bask in the heat of him for a little longer. To feel his fingers on her bare bottom for a few more moments. Perhaps to even feel him caressing her again. And maybe… just maybe…

She slid her palm up and scooted herself fully into his arms, her chest over his, and laid her head down against his shoulder, “Let’s just stay here a little longer. If that’s okay?”

Harry blinked his eyes and knew Y/n could feel the way his heart was lobbing around behind his ribs. His cock was already hard but she hadn’t figured that out yet and he didn’t want to scare her off because he did want to stay like that for longer. With her.

He pulled his arms around her, removing his hand from her bottom and bringing it up to wrap around her back, “That sounds perfect.” He was just glad she hadn’t moved too far up or her thigh would have come into contact with his erection and surely would have ruined the moment.

Y/n closed her eyes and indulged in the way his arms felt around her. Her bare hip was against his and it felt so salacious. So tender. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, with one of them uncovered and warm against his skin.

“Dad left for a meeting? On a Sunday?” Harry suddenly inquired. He had always been suspicious of his father’s frequent trips.

She nodded her head over his chest, “Yeah. Sometimes he has weekend meetings. It’s more like a golf outing than anything. Probably just some buddies getting together for some fun.”

“Hmm… You’re okay with him just heading out like that last minute?”

“Yeah. It’s normal. I’ve gotten used to it.”

He wasn’t sure that his father was a good husband to Y/n. He found it odd too that they had separate bedrooms. But he didn’t usually question it. However, this morning he was feeling soft toward her (well, soft emotionally… physically he was anything but soft) and wanted to protect her in some way.

Harry didn’t know how he was going to survive. His boner was only growing thicker and with the way she was wiggling over him, her thigh was nearly brushing against his –

Too late.

When she nudged at it, feeling him stiff against her thigh, she smiled to herself. She hadn’t looked down over his body but she half wondered if he was as turned on as she was. It was easier for her to hide what her dream had done to her and what being in his arms was causing to slip out from between her legs, but this pleased her.

“I’m sorry. That’s… I can’t help it.” Harry explained and Y/n lifted her head up and glanced down at where he was straining under his boxer briefs. It nearly startled her too. She hadn’t expected… that. And even though he was covered up with his underwear she understood that what he had going on there was… well she’d say he was a lucky guy and it was truly an outrage that there hadn’t been a lucky girl to try it out.

“Don’t apologize,” she looked back up at him and realized he’d been looking at her boob. The one not covered. And with the way she’d lifted herself upward to look down at him, her nipple was out for him to peek at.

She licked her lips and brought her hand down over his pec to lift herself further. Bot tits made their appearance and Harry groaned and looked away, “Sorry. Trying not to look.”

Gently putting her hand up to his jaw she turned his face to look at her, “Do you want to look?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he nodded, “Well, yeah. But I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“You’ve seen breasts before right?” Y/n laughed and slid her thigh against his thickened cock, this time on purpose.

Harry kept nodding, “Yes. Quite a few. But just not yours.” His eyes danced over her nipples and back up to her eyes, almost to make sure it was okay.

She loved his deep, raspy morning voice. Loved how gentle and intimate the moment felt.

“Did you see Leslie’s breasts last night?” Y/n teased with a smile as she lowered herself down, her naked nipples pressing into his warm skin.

Shaking his head no he laughed, “Nah. She passed out. If you thought I was drunk last night, should have seen her. Nothing happened. Wouldn’t have been able to even if we wanted.”

When Y/n felt Harry’s hand timidly return to her low back and then ghost over her ass she let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t remove her eyes from his. He was so pretty and he deserved to be put out of his misery she thought. A bad idea, yes. But to hell with it.

Sliding her thigh further over him she pushed herself to straddle him and sat up over him. Biting her lip and looking down at his chest and smoothing her hands over the smattering of hair he had and the dark tattoos… he was sexy.

Harry couldn’t stop his eyes from taking her in. Her robe was draped over her sides but was open so he could see her breasts and her tummy, her belly button and he glanced back up at her and parted his lips as he risked moving his hands over her bottom. With the way she was looking at him and touching him, he felt the risk would be worth it.

“Squeeze a little,” she whispered as she put her hands over Harry’s and directed him to take a handful of her bottom in each palm. Harry swallowed hard and panted.

“Oh my god,” his words were spoken in a quiet breath as he relished in the feeling.

When she rocked her hips forward and dragged her core over his fabric-covered cock Harry gasped and his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths.

“I had a dream about you,” she spoke as she moved her hands back up his chest and to his face as she leaned over him, putting herself directly over his erection and ground herself over him, “It was really naughty. And I’m still worked up over it. Just tell me if you want me to stop,” her pussy was wetting the fabric of Harry’s crotch and he groaned before lifting his face upward and pressing his lips to hers. He definitely did not want her to stop.

The haste of the kiss was hectic and chaotic. Harry pushed the robe off her shoulders and she flung the thick cotton down onto the floor before placing her fingers into the band of his underwear, “Let’s take a look.”

She sat back and pulled his underwear down so his cock sprung out. She continued lowering the material until his balls were free and she moaned, “It’s really pretty. Can I suck you off?”

Harry brought a hand up to his arm and pinched his skin, wincing when he felt the sting. He wasn’t sure he was really awake. Not only was Y/n completely naked on top of him, she was licking her lips and asking if she could suck him off.

“Fuck. Please yes.”

“Do you like to beg, Harry?” She grinned as she crawled herself backward to put her face above his lovely cock.

“For you, I will.”

“Mmm… such a good boy,” she looked up at him as she licked along the underside of his shaft and Harry choked out a moan. His thighs were already quivering. She figured he wouldn’t last long but that was fine for what she had in mind.

Her mouth was watering so wetting him properly wasn’t too hard as her tongue slid over his hard prick. She dotted kisses along the way and looked up at his eyes and then down to his pretty dick.

Using her hand, a palm she licked and wetted, she gently massaged his balls as she finally pulled his tip into her mouth. She lowered over him as much as possible on the first go before bringing herself off of him, “Want you to come down my throat. Okay? Want to taste you.”

Harry’s face was twisted up in ecstasy already and she hadn’t done that much, “I’m gonna come too fast.” He whined.

Shaking her head and licking over his tip she whispered against his throbbing cock, “Be a good boy and come down my throat, Harry. It’s okay if you come fast. Just feel my mouth and my tongue on you and enjoy it. Can you do that for me?”

“Ffuck…” Harry threw his head back into the pillow as she drew him back into her mouth and began sucking, “M’gonna be your good boy. Yes.”

Harry’s voice was shaky and his groans were progressively louder as she took him deeper. He clutched the blankets tight as his stepmom fondled his balls and sucked on his cock.

He’d been given blow jobs before. But already this one was far and away the best he’d ever had. Y/n was sensual and confident and she knew what she was doing. When her eyes found his every few moments that was his favorite. Watching as she looked at him dreamily with his cock in her mouth was a picture that would be seared into his mind for all eternity. Better than porn. Because it was real.

“Ahh! Shit! M’coming, please!” Harry shouted and moaned as his hands finally found their place in her hair out of instinct.

He’d pressed on her just enough that her nose was pushed into his pubes and she felt his twitching prick beating and pumping as come gushed from his tip. He came a lot. She couldn’t breathe or move but she kept her jaw wide and gagged around him as he crammed himself further into her throat and he cursed and moaned and rolled his hips upward in orgasm.

When he’d finally drained himself of everything he had he loosened his grip on her hair and she pulled up, gasping and coughing.

Harry’s fucked out gaze was adorable, she thought. A small smile on his face with pink cheeks and a splotchy red chest from the exertion of his orgasm.

She leaned over him and grasped his jaw, causing his mouth to fall open as she spit down over his tongue, “Swallow.”

Harry gulped down her mix of saliva and his come before his pink lips curved up into a big smile, “Yes ma’am.”

Y/n chuckled and then kissed him before pushing herself upward to climb off but Harry caught her arm before she could get too far, “Wait. You don’t want me to like…”

“Of course I do. But only if you want to. Have you ever eaten anyone out before?”

Harry pushed himself up by his elbows and nodded, “Yeah. Wouldn’t say I’m any good at it. Not sure I could make you come.”

There was a thrill that filed down her spine and to her toes. She didn’t need to come. She just loved how it felt to have someone with their face between her legs. It had been a while. Leo didn’t often give her cunnilingus.

“But do you want to?” She asked pointedly. She wouldn’t dream of having him do something he didn’t like.

“Fuck yes. Just show me what you like and I’ll do it.”

Harry released her wrist and she put her bottom onto the mattress and stuffed pillows behind her so she could sit up and watch. She loved the way Harry was watching her body and how dark his eyes were. He’d just orgasmed but she was confident he’d grow hard again soon. And then perhaps she could give him what he really wanted.

“Take your underwear off the rest of the way.”

Harry got up to his knees and nodded, “Yes ma’am.” A sly smirk on his lips at the new nickname he’d been using for her.

Y/n had never been a fan of being called ma’am. She felt she was too young to be a ma’am but when Harry did it in this context, it got her blood pumping wildly through her veins.

When Harry’s boxer briefs were long gone she pulled at his wrist as she opened her legs up, “Start off just exploring. I’ll guide you if you want. Use your fingers, lips, tongue… and try to keep your eyes on mine.”

Harry licked his lips and knelt over her, his hands finding her outer thighs first and spreading her wider as he looked over her glistening pussy, “So wet. Is this for me?”

His question was a surprise to her. But it was definitely lined with something innocent. Almost as if he hadn’t expected her to be in the state she was in.

Nodding her head slowly and smiling she spoke, “All for you. That’s what you did to me and you haven’t even touched me yet.”

Harry’s dimples poked into his cheeks as he shyly smiled, “Just trying to be a good boy for you ma’am.”

He jutted his tongue out and licked upward from her seeping entrance to her clit and she moaned softly as she watched him. He kept his eyes on her pussy at first. She wanted him to look up at her but she allowed him a moment to get acquainted.

He used one of his hands to gently spread her labia and lick upward again, stopping at her clit and flicking it just the tiniest bit.

“God. You know where the clit is, don’t you? That’s really good, Harry.”

He finally looked back up at her as he mouthed over her pussy and sucked gently. She keened and smiled, “Yes! Keep doing that.”

So he did. He sucked and licked, giving special treatment to her clitoris and he moaned over her as he closed his eyes and lapped at her, and kissed his way around her cunt slowly.

“Finger me. Put two in. Like this,” she reached down to his hand and twisted so his palm was upward and then pulled on his pointer and middle finger, nudging the pads of his fingers to her entrance.

His long digits inside of her didn’t disappoint. He pressed them in and pulled out slowly as he continued lapping and sucking and she gasped into the room.

She looked down at him after the initial recovery of his fingers inside of her for the first time and he was already watching her. She slid a hand over her body, stopping at her breasts for a moment before pushing her fingers into his hair, “You’re so good for me, Harry. Just like that…” she was breathless.

Harry clamped his eyes closed at her praise and used his free hand to reach up and touch her left tit. He kneaded at her flesh and then circled the pads of his fingers over her nipple slowly and she mewled, “Come up here. Suck on my breasts,” she pulled at his hair a little to lift his face, “Keep your fingers inside of me.”

Harry did as she said, pumping his fingers into her as he moved up over her body and latched on to the breast he’d been fondling. He was a star pupil. His tongue laved sensually over her areola and he continued looking at her as he stuffed his fingers knuckles deep.

Sucking on her nipple and pulling away he moved to the other side and a muffled moan vibrated over her chest and she felt his cock against her thigh. He was aroused. Thick and full once again. She knew this would happen. Or at least she hoped it would.

Harry drew his tongue to the underside of her breast and sucked in tightly, pinching her skin and she gasped as she watched him work. He moved to her other side, repeating his gesture and bruising the underside of her boob with an intense suckle that had her flesh turning purple nearly instantly.

“Fuck, Harry.”

She had little need to guide him much. He was passionate enough and horny enough that everything he was doing was just right by her standards.

Harry popped off her nipple and looked up at his stepmom with eyes that brimmed with lust and need, “I want you so bad. Please…” his dark pink lips were wet and set in a pout as he pulled his brows together. He looked like he was in pain. But he didn’t cease fucking into her with his fingers.

Y/n carded her fingers into his hair and cooed at him, “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

She was aware of what he wanted. But somehow she was getting off on having him tell her and ask and beg with his big puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

Harry’s hips dipped down so his prick sat in the spot right next to her pussy. She was wet all over and there was a nice little bit of glid for Harry right there as he removed his fingers from her cunt and pushed them into his mouth. He was holding himself over her with one arm as he licked her essence from his digits before pulling them out to steady himself with both arms, “You. Want to… be with you. I’m so hard again.”

She knew what he wanted. And maybe it was the haze of the dream she’d had or a sudden lack of inhibition on her part, but she wanted the same thing. And his pretty cock would feel nice wrenching into her insides and poking deeply into the viscera.

Y/n nudged at him to move back so she could sit up further, “Are you sure? Because that means you won’t be a virgin anymore. I don’t want to have you regret anything.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t care about being a virgin. The stigma. Never mattered. But,” he put his palm over the top of her thigh and looked at her with hooded eyes, “I know you’ll show me how good it is. I trust you. Only if you want me.”

The sting of warmth shrouded her neck and then her heart. He was sweet and he was convincing.

Nodding her head she put her palm over his cheek and smiled, “I do want you. And I trust you too. Which means this has to stay between us. No one can know.”

Harry nodded. The tiny bit of scruff on his face scratched at her skin as he turned to kiss her palm and grasp her wrist in his hand, “Then, please. Just tell me what to do and how you want it. I’ll be so good for you.”

Intertwining their fingers, Y/n pulled at him to give him a soft kiss. Wet. Trembling. They both were. This was either the biggest mistake of their lives or the beginning of an extraordinary secret. They both knew it. It would change everything. It already had. They’d already given in.

Whispering as she scraped his scalp and dotted kisses at the edge of his mouth, “Do you want a condom? Will that make you feel better? I can’t get pregnant so that’s not an issue and everything else is good in that regard. Up to you.”

Y/n always wore condoms with Leo, at his insistence. Because of their agreement. An open marriage if you will. But with Harry, she’d forego the barrier knowing he was a virgin.

“Do you want me to wear one? I do have some that I’ve never used,” he laughed as he spoke the word used.

“I’d like to feel you just like this,” she lowered her hand to his throbbing shaft and inhaled sharply at how warm and thick he was in her hand, “If that’s okay.”

Harry closed his eyes and nodded, “More than okay.”

“Good. Now. When you fantasize about having sex. What position are you in the most?” Y/n wanted to have him start off with what he fantasized about. She knew he’d like any position, most men did.

The edge of Harry’s mouth quirked up as he breathed out a laugh, “Just… all of them. But, normally I’m on top,” he swallowed.

“That’s good. Let’s start there.” She lay back and spread her legs, gently pulling at him to follow.

Harry put himself between her thighs and brought his palms down to the mattress on either side of her shoulders.

“Push your hips down and line up over me,” She took her hand and guided him so that his heavy cock was slipping through her labia, getting coated in her slick, “Yes, now, move back and forth and just feel how wet I am like this. How it’s getting all over you before you even need to push inside. Feels good right?” Harry’s mouth was dropped open and he nodded, “Yes.”

“Mmm… feels good to me too. When you do that, your tip is hitting my clit. See?” She looked down between their bodies, urging Harry to do the same.

He groaned as he continued gliding through her wet pussy lips, “Fuck. So pretty.”

The sound alone was sexy. Her pussy was really wet and the noise that his dick caused with each pass through her folds was pornographic.

“We’re pretty together, aren’t we?”

He nodded and moaned, moving himself a little faster.

“Such a good boy. Now, I want you to kiss me. Keep your mouth on mine and then when you’re ready, put your delicious cock inside of me. Okay?”

Another moan fell from his lips as he lowered himself to kiss her mouth. Y/n licked over his lips and Harry opened up and used his tongue against hers as he slowly pushed his engorged dick up and down, nudging her clit on each upward thrust. His mouth was watering as he got himself into position, putting his knees down to steady himself and rearing back to align his pink tip with her puffy, wet entrance.

Never removing his lips from hers as he continued kissing her and sipping at her tongue he dipped gently into her. First, his wide head barely smoothed into her until he was met with resistance from the small muscle of her vaginal opening.

She could feel him hesitate, knowing he wasn’t sure if it was too much. She smiled into the kiss and spoke, “Just push. It’s like that on purpose. A little tight on the first go but once you’re in there it’s so good. You’re just a little thick so this is gonna be normal for you. Gotta just press in past my tight opening.”

The whimper that fell from his mouth before he pushed his lips back to hers made her head spin. But what really got her was when he did as she said and pushed in through her muscle and slid himself in half way.

They both gasped, parting from the kiss. There it was. He was inside of her. He moaned into her mouth as he pulled back so his tip was pulled out and then reentered, pushing past that tight muscle again as he licked into her mouth.

It was good. She knew it would feel good. His hard cock was heavy and thick and as he pressed himself in until he couldn’t push any further she gasped at how deep he was.

Harry was on a different plane of existence in that moment. He’d given his virginity to the hottest woman he’d ever met and now he was allowed to fuck her. She’d given him permission and he’d given her permission and his dick had never ever felt so good.

He’d had his cock sucked and he’d used toys with lube that mimicked pussy, but this was… warm and real. And it smelled like her and his mouth still tasted like her and she was moaning as he moved into her. She was enjoying it too. And that… that was the best part.

He continued moving his mouth over hers as he thrust his way into her as deep as he could get until his balls were pressed into her bum. He was more than thankful that he’d already come so he could last a bit longer. He’d still come embarrassingly fast, he was sure, but now he had a little advantage. Instead of three minutes, possibly ten? He hoped. At minimum. Because he didn’t want this feeling to ever end. He’d fuck his stepmom for the rest of his life if it felt this way. They could just stay like this in her bed, slipping together and kissing and being connected.

A knock at the door and the voice of a female was heard from behind the wood.

Harry stopped his movements and Y/n grasped onto him with one hand to keep him still and put her finger up to her mouth, “Who’s there?”

“I’m Harry’s friend, Leslie. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know where he went.”

Harry’s breaths were rapid as he stared down at the pretty woman he was inside of. He’d totally forgotten about Leslie.

“Uh… I think he left? Maybe? Not sure hon! I’m in the middle of something and…” she didn’t know how to get rid of the girl. She didn’t want to be rude but she was truly very much in the middle of something. Something very good. She was just thankful that the door was locked.

Harry slowly began thrusting again as he kept his eyes on Y/n’s, holding himself up over her.

“That’s okay! Sorry! I’ll be leaving. Just tell Harry I will talk to him later!”

The smirk on Harry’s face as he began to press in harder had Y/n’s tummy on fire, or perhaps it was his lengthy cock pushing into her guts, “Thank fuck she’s gone. In the middle of losing my virginity here,” he laughed as he rocked his hips sharply and Y/n grunted at the harsh thud.

“Oooh… fuuu….” Y/n moaned with a smile as he did it again, “So good like that. You gonna fuck me a little harder now? Be a good boy and make it hurt a little.”

Harry was a good listener. Had always been. This time was no different. He began to plunge into her with a dizzying drag, forceful and trenchant. Just like she liked. Especially when it was Harry doing it.

“Like that? You want it like that?” He punctuated his words with each rut of his hips.

“Yeah, just like that,” she scraped her nails over his back and keened as her body was rocked upward on each of his thrusts, “How do you feel? Tell me what it’s like.”

Harry’s hips stuttered as he brought the cadence down so he could speak, “Fuck, it’s good. So fucking nice,” he wanted to say more about how it felt. Wanted to tell her he could do this with her forever and that her pussy was the only one he’d want to fuck from now on (he was sure of that). Wanted to blurt out that she was so pretty and how perfect they looked together. But he held back with the understanding that his lust was clouding the things his heart was feeling at that moment.

“Tell me mmm… oh yes! Right there!” She closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from shouting loudly when Harry ground into her just right, not sure if Leslie was still in the house or not, “Tell me what it feels like inside of me.”

Harry’s panted words were slow and deep, “Like I’m gonna come harder than I ever have. It’s so warm and smooth. Gripping me so tight. Never want it to stop…” his hips smacked against hers as he moved into her with a hungry force.

Her mouth was wide open as her breaths were being knocked out of her lungs and her tits swayed under him.

Harry looked down at his sexy stepmom with her lusty face and body and he lowered down to wrap his lips around hers. She brought her legs over his back and pushed at his bottom with her heels to urge him deeper.

Using his forearms to hold himself up he rolled his hips into her slowing down his pace to make it last. He wanted to feel her like this for a little longer. He knew he could come soon.

Wet squelches between their bodies where they were connected and sliding together with no barriers and tiny creeks from the mattress filled the room. The sound of illicit sex. The sound of something happening that was so wrong that it was good. So good.

Y/n could tell Harry was going to come as his breaths heaved and his thighs trembled against her each time he pushed in, “Harry… you feel so good filling me up. I want to come too,” her words were panted as Harry sliced into her deeply and stilled his hips as he looked down at her.

“Want you to come too. What do you need, Y/n?” Harry’s chest rose and fell quickly as he pushed his thumb over her cheekbone.

“Is it okay if I get on top and ride you how I like? Always come when I get on top.”

Harry smiled and licked into her mouth for a good moment, pulling at her lips and grinding into her further so she could feel him as deep as he could possibly go before, pulling back and gently bringing her thighs down as she placed her feet flat onto the mattress.

Y/n sat up and ogled Harry’s body as he turned and moved to his side. She crawled over him, pushing him down to his back, and sat over her knees between his legs. She brushed her palms up his sturdy thighs up to his hips, never touching his throbbing prick before leaning over him and kissing his right thigh upward to the apex of his thigh and crotch, careful to leave him wanting. Repeating the same worship on his left thigh but taking a little time over the tiger tattoo. She looked up at him as she licked over the ink and then continued kissing her way up, devastatingly close to where he needed her. So close.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Harry. All of you,” she brushed her hands up over his laurels and to the butterfly that was rising and falling with his breath, “I’m surprised you haven’t found someone special already.” She praised. As she lowered her lips to his belly button he felt her hair ghost over his cock and whimpered.

Y/n smiled into his skin as she grazed her teeth gently upward to the butterfly licked around the lines before dotting hot kisses over his pecs, “Please… please…”

Raising her face and looking up at her stepson, “Please? What is it, baby? What do you need?” Her smirk was devious. Harry loved it. He fucking loved every single thing she was doing.

“Wanna feel you on top. Gonna burst.”

Lowering her lips back to his pecs she sucked a nipple passed her lips and nipped. Harry threw his head back into the pillow and coughed out a loud groan, “Ask me nicely. Like a good boy. You’ll get anything you want from me if you’re good, Harry.” Her words were breathed out over his skin and the spattering of chest hair. Her lips made their way up to the swallows.

“Please, ma’am. I want to feel you on top. If you… ffuck… please.”

Her grin did not disappear as she licked and pecked her way up to his neck, “I’m dripping for you, Harry. Such a sweet boy with such a big cock for me to play with. Isn’t that right?”

Harry was going to lose it. This was his fantasy. No. It was better than anything he imagined. Y/n was better. He loved being put in his place because most of the time no one ever challenged him. Or made him feel this way.

“Y…yes. Just for you.”

Y/n sat up and straddled him, placing her knees down on the mattress to the sides of his hips. Finally. She placed her messy cunt over his shaft and slid herself up toward his frenulum and down toward his base, “Just for me. That’s right. Gonna let me play with your cock and fuck myself on it and make myself come, yeah?”

Harry nodded frantically and placed his palms on her hips as she leaned forward and placed her hands over his pecs, “When I start to ride you I’m gonna go slow, up and down like this,” she demonstrated by repeating the motion of her hips, tilting her pelvis down and letting her clit drive up and down over him as she panted, “so I can keep my clit in contact with your pelvis and I’m gonna come pretty fast. I need you to let me come before you do. And if you want you can come inside of me. That’s up to you. Just let me know what you want.”

Harry nodded, “It’s okay if I come inside of you?”

“Yes, it is. Would love it if you did but it’s your choice in the end. Can come in my mouth again if you want, or my tits. Whatever you like.”

“Inside of you, please. That’s what I want.”

“Mmm… such a good boy,” she tilted herself down so her breasts ghosted over his chest as she kissed him softly, lips moving with his and small sips of tongue before she slowly sunk down over him. That same mouthwatering initial push of his wide tip into her opening snapped and then spread her apart, “Hhharry! Fuck your dick is so fucking good!”

He couldn’t speak. It was so intense. His fingers gripped her hips as she shifted over him slowly. Her nails pinched into the flesh over his muscled pectorals and he felt his balls tighten. Her moans and pretty mouth with her tongue peeking out had him leaking steadily with pre cum, “I’m trying…” he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Her tits swayed as she rode him and the way she felt on him had him tipping too fast, “Fuck… Want you to come first…”

She cooed and slowed her hips, sitting upright and changing the position of him inside of her. Deeper yet as she leaned back gently and looked down to where his cock was buried into her.

Harry chanced a peek, not wanting to miss it, and he was not ready for the sight. He groaned and brought one hand from her hip to her clit and then looked up at her before focusing back on the way his cock spread her pussy lips as he thumbed over her clit.

“My sweet boy. Just hang on. This feels so perfect. Just want to soak it in with you.” She lowered her hand over his fingers where he was circling over her button and she hissed, “Gonna make me come so hard Harry,” she swayed her hips back and forth, keeping herself upright so they could enjoy the lurid show of their connected bodies.

Currents of hot arousal coursed through her body as she clenched over him and felt his cock nudging her cervix. It was a tight fit but it had her body leaning into an orgasm.

She leaned back forward, Harry’s fingers pushed away as he placed his hand back onto her hip and she slid up and down, dragging her clit into his pelvis and her gasps and fluttering walls signaled to Harry she was coming.

He closed his eyes and felt sweat at his temple as he felt her squeezing and pulsing as she moaned his name and he felt her thighs shaking, “Yes… yes! Harry! I need you… need this… Hhaaarry… fuck! Fffuck!”

The mattress moved and creaked under Harry’s back as his stepmom got off on his cock and Harry was certain he was already filling her up with gushes of his pre-come. He was doing his best but he’d never experienced a cunt squeezing around him in orgasm. It was witchcraft and he was obsessed. He’d never be the same.

“Come! Harry, come inside of me baby…” she moaned as she continued rocking over him, everything slick and smooth between them.

Harry choked out the loudest moan and he was so far gone he couldn’t be bothered to care how vocal it was. He didn't care if anyone heard it. He was coming and his sight dimmed as he pumped into his stepmom’s pussy as she milked him with her spasming muscle. Together their moans were the music of relief.

Y/n could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of her as he released his sperm into her aching and slippery inner tissues. He was punching into her so deep from below her it made her quiver in euphoric pain. She leaned over him and attached their mouths as he finished himself inside of her. She grasped his head on each side, her fingers in his thick hair to keep his head tilted up so their lips could move together.

He'd come undone completely. Tears pricked at his eyes and slid down his cheeks as he whined into her mouth and attempted to kiss her in return. He moved his hands to her ass and pressed her down as he lifted his hips so he could burrow in deep causing her to gasp and then squeak at the punishing plunge.

“Fuck, Harry!”

They were both shivering and heaving and kissing with saliva-covered lips and moans and wildly beating hearts.

When he’d calmed he sucked in a sharp breath as she collapsed over him and snuggled her face into his neck. They were sweaty and sticky and hot but it felt precious and perfect.

Harry closed his eyes and basked in the way Y/n felt on top of him, her warm breath at his neck, her wet pussy soothing his softening cock as his heart calmed. He dragged his hands up from her bottom to her back and rubbed along her spine, the pads of his fingers slipping through the layer of sweat that had formed.

He felt her lips pucker at his neck and then her nose push upward until her lips were at his jaw and then she pushed up to look down at him.

“Are you okay?”

Harry couldn’t imagine not being okay as long as he was getting fucked like that. But the issue was that Y/n was not just some girl he could date and then fall in love with. There would be no possibility of them being together. In fact, he was unsure that this would ever happen again and that had his heart sinking before he could even answer her.

She noticed the look of unease over his features and she swiped at his cheeks with her thumbs, “Hey… what’s wrong? I’m sorry, was that-“

“No. That was everything I ever wanted it to be. It was perfect, Y/n. I’m… fine. I’m okay. Just thinking.”

She nodded as she moved herself off of him and lay on her side to talk to him. He followed her and rolled to his side, his hands not leaving her hips, not yet ready to be rid of this moment.

“Tell me. What are you thinking about it? You can talk to me.” Her fingers brushed over his arms and up to his shoulders as she watched his glassy eyes closely.

Harry smiled sadly and shook his head, “It’s stupid. It’s not your problem.”

Y/n sighed and lifted her leg to drape her thigh over his, “Talk to me. Please. We just did something very risky and now we’re treading in dangerous water. Let’s keep open with each other. Okay? Because there’s no one else to talk to about this,” she grazed her knuckles along his cheekbone, “Pretty boy. Please talk to me.”

He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes to gather the thoughts brimming from his head.

“I don’t know how I’m ever gonna forget about this and move on.” He opened his eyes to look at her and slowly smoothed his palm over her side and to her breast, “I really like you. I’m feeling things that maybe I shouldn’t.”

Y/n nodded and swallowed. She loved the way his fingers ghosted over her nipple and how glassy his green eyes were, how gentle, “Me too.”

He blinked his eyes, all shiny eyelids and damp lashes covering and then revealing his pretty irises, “You do? Feel things?”

She grinned and closed her eyes. It felt like a lot. She wasn’t in love with him or anything and this had been a mistake for sure. An epic error. But she was feeling something. His warmth and his heart and his excitement. It transferred over to her veins and her skin and the roots of her hair and sparked a longing for something. When she opened her eyes again she licked her lips, “Yeah. I like you a lot. Wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t.”

“Would you… consider doing it again? With me? Like,” he clenched his jaw and brought his hand up to her clavicle, “a thing just for us. Our secret?”

He was sure she’d say no.

Biting her lips she lifted herself and pulled Harry’s bottom arm under her head so she could draw in closer to him. She just wanted to be as close as possible. She brought her hand to lie flat over his heart and tilted her head back to look up at him, her thigh still braced over his hip. He moved his hand down her body to the back of her thigh as she adjusted herself in close.

“It’s so bad. What we’ve just done. It crosses a line. So many invisible lines,” she whispered as she traced her finger upward to his neck, “But… I guess I don’t care. Because I wanna keep doing it. I guess that makes me a terrible person.”

Stitching his brows together he frowned, “You’re a beautiful person, Y/n. So kind and smart,” he squeezed her hip and pulled her up to his mouth so he could kiss her. His stepmom, his lover, his paramour. He pulled back, his nose pressed to hers, “If you’re a terrible person then I’m right there with you. Let’s be terrible people together.”

They both laughed at Harry’s words and grinned widely.

It was ludicrous. A wild suggestion to continue their illicit affair. Of course, it would be easy. Too easy. That is as long as no one ever found out.

“Do I have you for the rest of the day?” Y/n tucked herself in closer as she asked.

“That you do. And I think there’s so much more for you to teach me. Might be a really late night for us.”

“Oh definitely, until the wee hours. So many things you need to learn before I let you leave.”

Next part: 2. No panties? | A Good Boy Masterlist

A/N: What did you think? I have so many ideas for this story but I didn't want it to get any longer than it already is. Would you guys be interested in seeing more? Let me know!

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[eupheme]

— until we meet again

[masterlist]

alfred pennyworth x f!reader

Rated E - 5.3k

Tags - age difference, sexual thoughts/daydreams, crushes, mutual pining, enamored!alfred, love-at-first-sight vibes, romance, light angst, oral (f receiving), light daddy kink

Inspired by this incredible anon - I loved the idea of trying an Alfred POV + mini-prequel, for part of Penny For Your Thoughts (posted a year ago yesterday!) 💕

follows part i with a brief reference to part iii

It wasn’t anything more than chance - the briefest meeting of eyes from across the room.

And yes, he’s thought about that moment, wondering. But never thinking they’d meet again - that those thoughts of “what if” might actually be based in some truth.

He had noticed her.

Of course he had.

Eyes drawn to the form sitting at the bar, soon after they had stepped inside. No more than an idle glance until there was a turn of her head - until he recognized her profile.

The woman from the gala.

It had been months ago. Spring, then. The weather was just beginning to warm, flowers pushing through the earth to bloom in the sun as the days grew longer. He remembers the night well - a charity ball for the hospital.

Recalling how he had to wheedle Bruce into accepting the invitation - weeks had passed since he had last gone out, and there were reputations to be upheld.

Somehow getting himself dragged along, as well.

He had been half-listening when he felt the weight. One he had come to know during his time as an intelligence agent - the feeling of being watched.

Eyes sliding to Bruce first, who wasn't listening at all. Dulled eyes unseeing as they stood trapped together in a conversation with a pair of financial advisors from Wanye Enterprises.

Alfred's well-timed hums of agreement enough to carry the conversation, for now. His gaze wandered through the crowd at the cocktail hour, his own glass flute cool between his fingers, all but untouched.

There was a shift in the groups, a party splitting into two. A gap formed between them, when he saw her.

A woman - one he found stunning. Standing with her arm curled around her waist, the fingers of the other pressed against her lips.

They parted, when their gaze had met. She blinked at him with wide eyes - caught. Head ducking as she shifted back toward the companion she was with, the briefest glance back his way before she jumped back into the conversation.

For a wild second, he had thought she had been looking at him. A stirring in his chest he had not felt for ages, for years.

But, surely not.

The feeling twisting into something else, something he didn't wish to examine, as his eyes had flicked toward Bruce.

Towards the subject of her certain fascination. He supposed the thought was pleasant - he'd been trying to convince Bruce to go out, make friends - date - for years.

Anything to get him out of the Tower, to see him smile again.

Maybe even drop this new-formed interest in vigilantism.

This was certainly something to consider.

A rich bell rang out, then. A slow transition into the seated dinner as conversations wound down - each name carefully grouped on the thick, creamy-white seating chart. A gold charm around the stem of each of their glasses, the number stamped on the disc as a reminder.

Unable to help glancing for the woman again, as he moved towards his seat. Finding her - seeing her split from her friend, heading to a table alone.

An idea had swiftly formed. He knew the organizers of the fundraiser - the Wayne family still had close contact with the Hospital, their upper staff.

Excusing himself from Bruce’s side, though he wasn’t not paying attention - eyes glued down to his phone. Scanning through live traffic videos, itching to be out and anywhere but here.

It’s had been an easy thing, to switch his own seat with hers. An escort sent to gently divert her, claiming a mistake in the glass she received.

Her frown had been sweet - the briefest hesitance before she was guided to his old spot. Seated next to Bruce, while Alfred sat four tables away - trying not to watch.

Congratulating himself on playing matchmaker, though he doesn’t feel as pleased as he thought he would have.

Fitting in easily enough - had been acquaintances with a couple at this new spot. Conversation flowing over the appetizers, unable to help as his eyes drifted.

To Bruce, who sullenly picked at his food. Angled slightly away from his pretty dinner partner - Alfred was already shaking his head, his tongue trapped between his teeth.

God, help him.

Stealing the briefest glimpse to the side. Where he met her eyes, again. They lingered this time, for a moment - until her lips curved in a shy smile, until her gaze dropped again.

He allowed himself another moment.

Wondering, but not too much - not sure if he wanted to understand. It’d been too long since he felt a flutter in his chest like this, that wasn’t linked to worry or fear.

He didn’t know how to take it.

It’s hard to remember the rest of dinner. He knows he rushed through it - anticipating that Bruce would not linger, that he’d want to leave as soon as socially appropriate.

Excusing himself politely, as Bruce had stood. Allowed one last look at the girl he wouldn’t see again - just a small, stolen moment.

Before he had made for the door, holding it open for the younger man to pass through. Giving the slip to the valet, as they stood together in the chilly evening, the sun just settling below the horizon.

“Thanks for ditching me.” There was ice to Bruce’s words, a blade-sharp edge, “Should I even ask what that was all about?”

If they weren’t spoken in that tone, he might have been touched. There had been weeks where Bruce hadn’t wanted to be in the same room as him.

“Thought you might prefer a more interesting partner this evening.” Alfred replied smoothly. The next question coming unconsciously, not even meaning to ask it, “Did you catch her name?”

He could feel the eyes on him, but kept his own facing forward as he looked for the valet. Hands slipped into the pockets of his trousers, determined to continue the charade.

There was a low scoff.

“Maybe we should have traded seats, instead.”

Christ.

In this moment he had rued how perceptive Bruce could be. How over time, they had learned to read bits about each other.

A long moment, as the car pulled around. The valet exiting, rounding the front of the car before Bruce had taken pity on him.

His voice knowing as he finally told him her name.

Alfred had tried it out himself - later that night when he was alone. Rolling sweet on his tongue, before he locked it away.

No use dwelling on it, he had told himself. He was busy enough as it - a whole Tower to keep running, a young man to keep alive.

In a city as big as Gotham, another meeting would be unlikely. It would be be better for him to rid her - of any possible connection - from his mind.

And he had, as an old memory that sprung to the surface. One from the summer of his youth - fingers reaching out towards a painting at the Fitzwilliam Museum. An urge to feel the layered brushstrokes for himself.

Pausing, then drawing back. Knowing that it was not meant for that - his touch. That it would never be his. That beauty like this was best appreciated from afar.

And with that - the memory of her was locked away.

He moved on.

And now, despite those odds he had wondered about, despite the way he told himself he’d forget…

He finds they’ve been brought together, again.

Bruce has already split from his side, that honed, laser-focus taking over - leading him deep into the lounge. Leaving him in the doorway, jacket and cane in hand.

Firmly rooted to the floor, as something sweet blooms in his chest. A moment, before he can move again.

Of all nights to see her. Not that he was complaining, it was not at all an unwelcome surprise. But of course it comes on a night when Bruce is in one of his moods.

Hell-bent on a fight that Alfred knew he could never win.

He can’t bear to approach her. It would be impolite, and surely unwanted. She certainly had not dwelled on that night as he had.

And seeing her now, a vision - even from across the room - made him feel more foolish than ever.

But, he finds his feet unstuck. Taking him over to the bar. The urge to still stay close, in a place like this.

His eyes purposely finding Bruce so that they would not stray. Watching the stiff, uneasy gait of his walk as he approached the arch along the back wall.

Almost missing the scrape of a stool, a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

How she moves to be closer to him.

“Mr. Pennyworth.”

She says his name, and it’s the prettiest thing he’s heard.

A hand extended, and without thought he’s taking it eagerly. Unable to resist the slight squeeze - pressing his hand firmly against hers as he tries out her name for himself.

“Always a pleasure to see you, miss.”

For the moment, her attention is on him. Something he had not anticipated, unable to help a quick look over his shoulder. Finding Bruce again - where he’s talking to the two men, heads bowed.

Surely, he could afford a short conversation?

His eyes turn back, finding hers.

Where she’s watching him, head cocked, “I didn’t expect to see you here. This doesn’t seem to be your usual spot.”

The fact that she thinks she might know his usual spots at all thrills him. Enough that he’s returning her smile.

“Just here on business, miss.” He answers kindly but evasively - his guard still up, when it came to Bruce’s excursions.

Unable to help asking in return, “What about yourself?“

“Same.” She smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners, “Though I’ve already done my rounds. I’ve been waiting for the traffic to die down so I can grab a cab.”

A soft, silent moment. The drink lifted to her lips, head tilting back. His eyes sweeping over the exposed column of her neck as she swallows.

A subtle dip lower - admiring, appreciating. The pretty shade of her dress, how it compliments her form. How for a moment, he imagines he was here, with her - an intentional date.

In another life. In another time - when he was ten, twenty years younger. Without the burdens of grief and the scars he still carries.

He’d ask her to dinner. Somewhere beyond his means, most likely. Unable to help it, wanting to sweep her off her feet, treat her to the very best.

Romance her. Bring her roses. Walk her to the door, after. Leaving with the anticipation of next time - and if he was lucky, knowing the feeling of her lips pressed against his

“Too bad you’re not here for fun, instead.”

Her sudden words feel like an electric shock, bringing him instantly back. A wistful, coy lilt to her voice, as she sets the drink down.

Bright eyes finally finding his, her words pointed, “That would’ve been even more interesting.”

Oh.

For a second he thinks she teasing, and what a cruel thing it is. But then he sees her expression, the pieces of the puzzle that he’s been avoiding fitting neatly into place.

Lips parting with an sharp inhale, eyes blinking. Scrambling to find words - because he still can’t bring himself to believe.

That she would actually be interested in him. Not when she was so pretty, so young - not when she could surely have anyone of her choosing.

“You flatter me.” He finds his voice, after a moment. The words almost rueful, “But I think I am far too old for that sort of thing.”

She laughs then, shaking her head, “That’s ridiculous.”

An elbow propped on the bar top, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. A slow lean forward, invading his space.

Close enough that he can smell her perfume - the faded scent of soft vanilla and amber against her skin.

Her voice going low, gaze fixed firmly on his, “Maybe you haven’t met the right girl yet.”

It’s been so long that he doesn’t know how to take it. Defenses rising up instead, deflecting the attention.

Self-sabotaging.

“Ah.” He breathes, watching as her eyes slowly drop to his mouth. Swallowing, before he hears himself adding, “Perhaps someone more like Master Wayne…”

Trying to circle back to before. His poor attempt from the gala - directing attention from himself, again.

Those clever eyes dart back up to his, as she laughs. The glint of the low lights off her hair as her head shakes, “I am certain Mr. Wayne is not interested, nor am I-”

He feels his presence then, the shadow with a weight that he would know anywhere. The silent steps, an appearance at his shoulder.

Alfred’s eyes linger, for just one more moment. Knowing their meeting is about to come to and end. A second of greed, clinging to that thin point of connection for just one more breath.

And then his head is turning, the spell breaking. Seeing the frustration that pulls at Bruce’s face, the downward turn of his lips.

“Just missed them. They’re at the other-”, Bruce all but growls - before his eyes are shifting, finally landing on her. Finally realizing that they’re not home and it’s not just the two of them, anymore.

His words are severed, as she smiles. A tight politeness to the curve of her lips that doesn’t meet her eyes.

Bruce’s head turns sharply, cutting her out of the conversation.

“I have to go. I’ll be home later.”

If he wasn’t in such company Alfred’s fingers would be pinching the bridge of his nose - always forgetting how little manners Bruce could have when he irritated.

The younger man almost recovers, offering a half-hearted bow of his head in her direction. Sweeping out the front door a moment later, as Alfred exhales a long-held breath.

“My apologies,” He manages - his own smile strung tight. Not the way he had thought this conversation would go, “It appears my business has been concluded.”

“Seem like.” She smiles then, small and wistful. A softness in her farewell, “It was really nice seeing you.”

A thousand things swirl thought his mind during the second that her gaze holds his. His keen memory calling back to her words before.

“-waiting for the traffic to die down so I can grab a cab.”

An idea forming to prolong this meeting for just a few moments longer. Not that he shouldn’t offer this anyways - it might be rude to leave her here alone without at least offering.

“Allow me to offer you a ride home. I believe you’re on the way, and it’s the least I can do.”

He has no idea if it’s true, but he’d drive her anywhere in Gotham.

She takes the offered crook of her arm. Fingers pressing into the meat of his forearm - his knuckles curled tightly around the cane, as he savors the contact.

“Thank you. That would be lovely.”

A step as she moves in closer - tucking her body close to his, as they make their way to the door, together.

———

She does live close - her address carefully recited, as he mentally charts the best route to Gotham Village. A little pleased she lives somewhere safe - still in the Downtown-area, but not in places where Bruce visits often.

Soft idle chatter dissolves into a comfortable silence - with as much rain they have, you can only talk about it for so long - as he cranks the heat against the fall chill. Concentrating on the slick road ahead as he weaves through the streets.

Unable to help the occasional side-glance her way. So strange to have her in a place as intimate as this - only a hands-breadth or so away.

Wondering if her perfume will linger later, like a ghost.

His mind soon splitting, as it always did. Glancing up towards the sky - looking for the beacon. The summons he dreaded, only because it meant something had happened that was bad enough that they needed Bruce.

A summons that always brought him back to the Tower, to worry and wait.

But so far, the skies have only birthed the sheets of rain and dark, sweeping clouds.

The trip ends much too soon, as she gestures towards the row of brick apartments. Parking comes second nature - easily sliding his Bentley into one of the open spots outside the door.

Painted a pretty shade of green, like spring. Like when he had first saw her.

“Thank you for the ride, Alfred,” She tells him, his name sounding just as sweet as before. A hand coming to rest on the door handle, before she hesitates.

Her next words floor him.

“Would you come up if I asked you?”

His hands clench around the wheel, as he finds himself frozen in place. There’s not a lot of things that surprise him anymore. Not after what he’s seen, that he’s been through.

But this. This, was certainly unexpected.

“Oh.” He manages, this tongue feeling thick in his mouth. Catching the slow movement as she shifts - starting to lean toward him instead, an elbow resting between them. Her head cocked, eyes watching him so carefully.

Full of nervous hope.

There’s a hammering in his chest, a warmth that blooms across his cheeks and ears at the thought. At her offer - one he wishes so desperately to take. To reach out, sink his teeth into.

But does she know what she’s asking?

Does she really want him? And would she still, when she’s seen all of him?

“It’s uh, been a while.” He manages, to buy a few more moments to think. Even with her sweet teasing, he hadn’t thought they’d end up here.

Far too long since he’s been pursued. He’s forgotten all the steps, his feet feeling out of sync with this dance.

But she’s unfettered - the slowest shift as she moves closer. A soft inhale of breath as a hand reaches out. Her full intent shown as her fingers unfurl to rest against his knee.

Something sparking with her touch, coursing through him.

“I don’t mind if you’re nervous,” She confesses - a hitch of her breath. A small, encouraging smile sent his way, “I’m a little nervous too.”

At her words, something unlocks. The pressure of the want oozing up, seeping through the cracks of the wall he’s built so sturdily.

Unable to help the small, rough laugh just as her fingers inch up, towards his thigh.

To think that she was nervous. As if his rejection would come from a lack of desire, and not years of duty. Compounded into his skin, down to his bones.

He could assuage her. He could do that much.

Moving with a speed that matches her, his own head tilting slowing. Just until his nose almost brushes hers, until he’s close enough to see the fan of her lashes above heavy-lidded eyes.

“That’s not what I said, dove.” His words come out low, rasping. The endearment coming easily, as he watches how his tone effects her - the subtle shift in her seat.

The small gasp that has her eyes closing - those pretty lips parting.

For him. Waiting, just for him.

He moves.

Eyes finally closing as his lips brush against hers. Unable to help leaning in, the urge to touch - a hand reaching to cup her face, hold her close as a soft moan thrums in her throat.

A heady throb coursing through his chest when there’s the touch of her tongue against his lip. As he opens eagerly for her and she clings to him, pressing herself closer as she deepens their kiss.

His tongue passes over his lower lip when they finally part - still tasting her sweet mouth as she leans back. Shooting him a look that goes straight to his cock - heavy-lidded and wanting.

“Come inside,” She all but begs.

Robbing him of his breath, again.

His mind running wild at the offer and innuendo. Unable to help another small laugh, strangled in his throat.

I’d like to. He thinks, as his jaw tightens. Would love to see you come, darling. At least twice. A third time, if I can hold out. If that’s what you want.

Would it be so wrong, to have one night of selfishness?

His head shakes, ridding himself of the doubt.

Making a decision.

His fingers twist the keys, turning off the ignition.

Giving in to what he wants - at last.

“Alright.”

———

She is nervous, he can see it in the way she fumbles with the lock, missing it with her keys.

Though she has no reason to be. He’s hers now, and will be until she no longer wants him.

Hands coming without thought - one against the curve of her lower back, steadying her. Another wrapping around her smaller hand, easing the key in.

Unlocking the door.

“Bedroom?” She asking, a glance over her shoulder as he takes in her apartment - the details that make up her life.

Ready to take a step forward - but he’s not quite done kissing her yet, now that he’s no longer confined to the interior of a car.

His hand still wrapped around her wrist - using it to tug her back against him. Carefully turning them until her back presses into the door.

Her head tilting up as he leans into her space - hands sliding up his chest to grip onto his shoulders for balance.

Fingers finding the soft fabric at her hips at her lips meet his, rucking up the hem. Wanting to make her feel good, too - as her hips press into his. Fitting a strong thigh between hers as she clings to him, already grinding down on his offer.

Already wanting to taste her again, hands roaming up to cup her jaw. Tongue stroking the seam of her lips until she’s parting them with a groan. The sound high-pitched and wanting, as his own moan joins her.

Her fingers unfurl from his shoulders. A hand ghosting down to cup where he’s thickening in his trousers with each rock of her hips. Squeezing him, gently.

Fuck.

His groan deepens, grows louder. His hips jerking into her touch as their kiss breaks - as she grins.

The last bit of that worry and self-consciousness that clung to him like a second skin, fading away at her touch.

He wants her. He can admit that now.

“Bedroom.” He husks, a hand gripping onto her hip as he moves away, as the heels of her shoes drop down. Loathe to leave their connection - a hand still lingering at her jaw.

One that she catches, entwining with her own as she leads him further inside. To her sanctuary - where he lingers for a moment in the doorway, as she sits down on the edge of the bed.

Leaning forward, to reach her shoes - though that’s something he’d be glad to do, for her.

“Allow me.” He kneels, ignoring the ache in his thigh as she extends her leg.

His palm cupping the soft skin of her calf - the other hand deftly working the tiny buckle, slipping her foot free. A soft sigh as he rids her of the other - an easy practice to his movements.

Fingers brushing over skin, the soft sweep of a thumb against an ankle.

Old habits sinking in as he takes the briefest moment to line both of her shoes up next to her nightstand.

Lingering for a moment there, between her knees. Eyes lifting when her legs part further - spreading themselves open for him.

Traveling up the expanse of bare skin - from foot, to ankle, to calf.

Knee, to thigh, to-

Oh.

His breath is low, harsh. The word no more than a rough gasp.

“Stunning.”

This sight of her, right now. The smallest mark of worry between her brows, a bit lip mixing with the dark look in her eyes.

The shadow of her dress not quite disguising the scrap of fabric between her thighs. Darkened and soaked through. Wet, for him.

His hands move on their own. Sliding over soft skin, over the curve of her knee. Watching as she hikes her dress up a little more - but he wants to see everything.

Pushing the fabric up himself - to her hips, as he rises. Fitting his waist between her knees, as his fingers grip at her waist. Taking in every detail - each curve and inch of skin. The heave of her chest, the mounting hunger in her eyes.

The lips that part, begging for him.

“Please, sir.”

Christ, she was going to ruin him.

It’s not a title that was new, not exactly. But time had made him forget. Not wanting to deny her of anything - taking this scrap of what she might like, might want, and storing it deep within his chest.

If she really wanted it, she could have it. But tonight… all he wanted was to take care of her.

The smallest shake of his head as he bends, the curve of his nose brushing over her stomach. The brush of his mouth against her skin as he moves downward.

“Not sir.” He grits out - reaching the waistband of her underwear. A pretty little lace thing, just barely keeping him from what he wants.

Her voice comes again - the syllables light on her sweet tongue, “Mr. Pennyworth?”

That is a pretty sound, and oh so tempting. His eyes flicking up - dark and glittering as he considers it for just a moment.

But then, the smallest shake of his head.

“No, not that either. Just-“

Just Alfred. Just you and me tonight, dove.

“Alfred,” she coos, and he thinks she’s read his mind. Before he’s catching the sly look in her eye as her hip cant upward, “If you wanted me to call you daddy, all you had to do was ask.”

He can’t deny the effect it has on him - the desire that drips off each word. Filthy, in a way he had not been expecting.

Fingers pinching into her hips - unable to bite back the groan as he presses his hard cock into the side of the mattress. A desperate attempt at relief.

Dear god.

Her eyebrow is lifting, lips rounding on a soft and knowing little “oh” of interest.

His own face growing stern, the slightest edge to his voice, “That mouth, darling, is going to get you into trouble.”

If she keeps it up - the flirtation, the teasing, the just being her - then he will surely disappoint her.

Catching her sweetly off guard as his head dips. Flattening his tongue against the spot that is damp for him. A breath through his nose, inhaling her scent before he’s pressing close. Her hips jerking as she cries out, his own hands coming to cup her ass - keeping her pressed snug against his mouth.

Unable to help the low groan, sounding loud in the small room. The fabric darkening under his tongue as he presses into her wet center.

Again, and then again. Already able taste her through the fabric. Still unable to resist tugging the scrap to the side, so he can do this properly.

He takes his time. Tracing every inch with the point of his tongue. Parting slick, puffy folds as he groans, as his cock throbs in its tight confinement.

Leaning back, after a moment.

Needing more.

“Oh,” he rasps. A rough groan pushing from his chest as his fingers curl around the delicate fabric. Peeling them down her thighs, baring her pretty cunt to him.

Eyes flipping up, catching hers - how she’s strung-tight with anticipation.

“I could eat you all day.”

And he would - if it meant that she kept making all those sweet sounds for him.

Leaning forward then, to press his mouth to her. Thighs pressing into his shoulders as he explores with soft kisses and the flick of his tongue.

Listening to what makes her whine. What makes her go silent, breath hitching. What has her lips parting as she moans. As she moves with him, the unconscious rock of her hips as he fucks her with his tongue.

She wriggles above him. Her pussy pressing against his tongue as her ass lifts, so she can tug the fabric of her dress up, and then off. Letting it drop over the edge of the bed, lost in her eagerness.

Baring herself to him, as his eyes drag down. Past shoulders and to the lacy bra that matches the panties he tugged off her. The sweet curve of her breasts, confined in the fine fabric.

He cannot take it any longer. A request, one of the few he will make, slides from his lips. Breathed out against the soft skin of her thigh.

“Can I touch you, dove?”

Working quickly and efficiently - removing his prized golden cufflinks. Tucking them away safely within his trouser pocket, along with his wrist watch. Rolling up one of the sleeves of his shirt over strong forearms, as she watches.

“Yes.” She begs, as the fabric of the other sleeve pushes up to his elbow.

He can’t help the low growl, as his hands move back into place. Flattening against soft skin, dragging down until he’s stroking her sensitive inner thigh. Achingly careful as a finger glides across her clit, watching how she clenches for him.

Wanting to fill that pretty, greedy hole. Fingertips gathering her arousal, tracing the tight opening - before pressing a finger inside.

Sinking deep into the heat as she jolts, a heady moan as he begins to thrust.

Achingly tight as he fits another in, his eyes fixed on where he takes him. Unable to help thinking about how she’ll feel wrapped around his cock. A throb as she whimpers at the stretch - though in the same breath she’s pushing herself up on her elbows to watch.

Where his forearms flex, the noisy thrust of his fingers that come back slick and shining.

“Gorgeous.” He purrs, dipping his head to press a kiss right against her swollen clit. Tongue flattening to swipe over it next, as her thighs trembling, grasping at her bedding.

Pressing his fingers knuckle-deep, as far as he can reach. The techniques coming back to him - even after all this time - as the tips curl, press, drag.

He’s watching as she cries out with pleasure, greedy eyes taking every detail in. Doing it again so he can watch her lips part with a long moan. An unconscious and needy flex of her hips, pressing her soaked cunt closer to his mouth.

“Again.” She whines - as he tugs the plea from deep in her chest.

Unable to keep the edges of his lips from curling as his lips wrap around the sensitive bud. A soft suck as he steadily finds the soft with his fingers again, and then again.

Each of her breathes coming in a short staccato as she gasps, whimpers. Head tilted back - pretty, unfiltered thoughts pouring from her lips.

Begging, for him.

“Fuck me, oh god, please-”

Clenching down around his fingers that refuse to slow. That won’t stop until he feels her pretty little cunt come around them.

Wholly enraptured by her pleading - his voice going soft with want and emotion, “I will, darling. Anything you want.”

Because right now, he would. For tonight, this moment, he is hers.

“But I need you to come for me first. Can you do that for daddy?”

He does it, for her. Returning the favor - as his finger plunge and curl.

Wanting, needing - to bring her over that edge first. Ignoring the throb of his cock, the tightness in his trousers in favor of her mounting pleasure.

He sees how his words effect her. The clench as she bears down around him, a kiss-swollen lip trapped between teeth as she gazes at him with half-lidded eyes. The short jerk of a nod, lips parting to breathe out the word, “Yes.”

Just before she comes undone for him. Her cunt tightening around his fingers as she moans, head tilted back against the pillows. His tongue pressed against her swollen little clit, feeling how she throbs for him.

Each breath a high-pitched pant, soft sounds as her thighs tighten around him. His fingers still moving - drawing out the pleasure, pressing against that spot that had her sobbing. It’s perfection, in every sense of the word.

And, if all he has is this.

This night.

The memory, and her smile, and the taste of her on his tongue -

He thinks that would be enough.

Please excuse the self-indulgence, just feeling a little sentimental. Thank you so so much for reading 💖💕

[faegoddessog]

Daily Meal

 Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, sex in public places, , unprotected PiV, (Play safe ya'll!) Light Dom/Sub, Oral sex (m &f).

Summary: Austin and gf have temporarily moved to New York, work is stressful for her. He has a tried and true solution.

A/N: Thank you to @slowsweetlove for the inspiration on this lil' one shot! I hope it lives up to expectation.

Please let me know if you see anything that needs attention (other than the fucking hot pic of Austin in a backstage setting that perfectly goes with this story that I wrote way before those pics came out.. magic!!)

She was sitting on the couch in their apartment, back to the door. It was bad Feng Shui, but it was the only place the robust piece of furniture would fit in the narrow New York apartment. They had rented it furnished and would only be here for about 9 months anyway.  

She loved going with Austin to his film locations when she could. She adored travel and exploration, but she adored Austin exponentially more. He was the most kind person she had ever met. The fact that he was beyond handsome and famous didn't even matter to her. He had amazed her from their first meeting. A meeting after which, he began to pursue her diligently. 

They had been in the City for just over two weeks now, under the guise of 'getting settled’. Really, they had come early because Austin had an addiction, theater. He had drug her out to shows nearly every night for the past two weeks before he started work on his new job. It's not like she hated going, she liked theater too. Just… whoa. She was at the point where she couldn't remember which scene belonged to which play. 

All that would slow down as today was the first table read of the new play Austin was starring in. Austin was so excited to be working on Broadway again. When he left that morning he was like a kid in a candy shop: smiling, nervous and buzzing. 

Tonight though, he promised her something different. He was going to take her to his favorite little hole in the wall place, they had live music every night and 'the best cocktails in town'.  

It was weird for him to want to be out so much, usually he was more of a ‘let’s stay in’ kind of guy. She supposed this was what theater did to him. 

Right now though, she had her headphones on trying to finish her remote work before he got home. There had been problems all day at the home office, deadlines had gotten moved up and her boss had put a lot of pressure on her to get them done. She had been frantically working all afternoon and felt like she was getting nowhere. Stumbling blocks and obstacles just kept popping up right and left. She felt like the project was slipping through her fingers. 

Austin traipsed down the hallway to their apartment. His day had been so good, the table read went amazing and the meeting after showed a ton of excitement built up about his new show. He was riding a high when he opened the door and saw her sitting on the couch, back to the door. 

He took a minute to look at her toeing off his shoes as per the rental agreement.  Her hair was up in a bun, the noise canceling headphones that she preferred to earbuds when working cradling her head. The wide neck of her shirt had slipped down, showing off her shoulders. The thin gold necklace that he had given her draped over the back of her neck gave him warm fuzzies.  

Damn he loved her. He was so happy that he got to bring his best girl with him on this project and share with her his love for theater. 

The fact that she could do her job anywhere was amazing. He loved when she joined him on location, though she only ever visited the set occasionally during filming. She said it was important that they had their own bits of life, she didn't want him to feel smothered or like she had to check up on him on set. In fact, she could never make him feel that way. In the past two years, she had become his rock, his solid base to cling to as he jumped into projects that scared him, that pushed him. 

He closes the door. She doesn’t turn, clearly sucked in. 

"Well shit!" she exclaims loudly, banging on her keyboard a little too vehemently,  obviously trying to make something work that was not working. 

Austin's eyes narrow in concern. She is usually quite collected, but the move and work had been stressful on her. 

He slips into the bedroom, then out again unnoticed, pushing something into his jeans pocket. Austin walks up behind her and lightly touches her bare shoulders. She jumps a bit, startled, and looks up. 

"Oh hey babe," she pulls her headphones off her ears, "how did it go?"

"It went well, I think it's gonna be a really good show," he says, "sounds like your day wasn't as great." 

"That's an understatement," she says rubbing the bridge of her nose, "the whole system just went down, again. So frustrating. I feel like I can't get a foothold on this project." 

He leans over the couch and closes the laptop, setting it aside. His lips brush her sensitive spot behind her ear. She closes her eyes, raises her hands to wrap around him and leans into his soft attentions. 

"Feeling out of control are you?" he rumbles in her ear, "I have something that might help." 

Before she can ask what, he slips his bracelets over her wrists. The ones that mean she doesn't get to make decisions until they come off.  The ones that signify he is in charge. The ones that mean she belongs to him. 

Two beautiful Italian-made leather cuff bracelets he had made in lieu of a collar. She did not like things tight around her neck, they had discovered. 

The cuffs could dangle comfortably loose, or they could be tightened with small decorative looking buckles if he needed them tighter. They had beautiful intertwining loops of leather with a couple rings of metal that Austin could slip his fingers into to control her or restrain her. Or he could clip them together with a carabiner. He was quite proud of his little invention, really.  She can stop it all with the murmur of their safe word, of course. But she was loath to use it unless completely necessary.  

She sighs as he slips them on,  pussy clenching, almost Pavlovian in response at this point.  God she loves him, he always knows exactly what she needs. Right now, she needs to not be in charge for a while. He must have had a really good day. He only got them out  when he was in a really good mood.  

"You know I wanted to take you out tonight, Doll," his hands slide down the front of her shirt, teasing her nipples, "but you aren't dressed yet. Oh hunny, what are we gonna do about that?" 

"Out? Aren't we staying in?" she frowned a little, shaking her wrists a little. She had never worn the cuffs out in public before.

"Oh no, we are going, and those are going to stay on. It's New York, after all. No one will think twice," he says, stepping to the chair opposite the couch.

"Yes, Austin," she says looking up at him, grateful to not have to make the decision. 

God he is beautiful. His tall frame is both lean and muscular, she knew he was stronger than he looked. Whether he had a little bit of scruff or he was clean shaven, his face was the very definition of handsome. He had a strong jaw, high cheekbones and the most adorable little corner mouth dimple on his left side. He was dotted with a unique constellation of freckles that she had been known to trace with her fingertips over his cheek and with her tongue as they dipped down his neck and onto his chest. His lips, oh lord, his lips were always soft and kissable. The sharp bow of his upper lip in opposition with the full roundness of the bottom one. He could do things with that mouth, things the mere thought of which had her wet. His newly darkened hair accentuated his piercing blue eyes. His new character was raven haired and he was nothing if not thorough in his preparation. His dedication to his craft was something she adored about him. 

"Now, you are going to peel down right here,” he places himself deliberately in the chair,  leaning back, long legs crossed, "then you will wear what I pick out." 

His thumb and long fore-finger outline his mouth, pulling his bottom lip out. Something he did when he was nervous or when he was looking at something that turned him on. Right now that something was her. He waved his other hand in a 'well get on with it' gesture.  

"Yes Austin," she said, standing up, "what first?" 

"Hmm, top," he said simply. 

They had played this game before. She knew he liked her to undress slowly and to touch herself when she did it. Her hand started at her waist, fingertips dragging the bottom edge of her shirt up, exposing the natural roundness of her belly. 

She was no impossibly thin supermodel, she was curvy, strong, healthy. He liked that about her, liked that she didn't conform to the California/Fashion/Hollywood standards he had grown up with. She marched to the beat of her own drum. She was hot as fuck doing it. He had noticed that since she was thrust into the public eye by dating him, she was starting to lead the pack in promoting body positivity, just by being herself. 

The hem of her shirt got caught momentarily on her naturally large breasts as she slowly stripped off her top. She hated wearing bras when at home. Her breasts bounced just a little as the shirt broke free. It was tantalizing to him. 

"Turn around," he said, "pull those bottoms down, both of them."

Her thumbs hooked onto the waistband of her joggers and panties. Pulling first one side down over her luscious hips, then the other to just under her ass. 

"Stop," he said quickly," mmm, pull those cheeks apart for me."

She grasped the roundness of her ass. The spreading sparking little sensations to her asshole and consequently to her pussy. She breathes out the tiniest of moans. She loves when he orders her to touch herself. 

"Down to your ankles now," he says. 

She steps back from the couch, more in the middle of the space and, bending at the waist, pushes her panties and joggers to the floor.

"Yes, show me that pussy, Doll," his deep voice starting to sound husky.

She steps her feet out of her clothes and then apart, pushing her hips back to him. Reaching back, she pulls her ass cheeks apart. 

"Oh my, baby, you look like you are wet, touch yourself and check," he directs. He has uncrossed his legs, manspreading in the most delicious way, giving himself room to grow. 

Reaching between her legs with one hand, she dips a finger into her seeping wetness, pulling away a string of moisture. 

"Oh yes you are," he breaths, "do you like being all bent over in front of me, Doll? Showing me that wet, needy pussy?" The sound of a zipper reaches her ears. 

"Yes Austin," her only reply. 

Austin's hands are on her hips, guiding her to his now fully erect, fully exposed lap. "Sit that pretty pussy down on my big cock." 

It was big; long fingers and hands do not lie, at least when it came to Austin. 

She nestles down onto him with a pleasure filled moan. The first taste of his cock in her pussy was always perfection for them both, and it only got better from there.

"Oh yes, baby doll, , such a good girl, so wet for me” he praises her, “clean that finger off sweetheart," he pushes her hand to her mouth. 

She turns her head to the side so he can watch her lick her juices. She moans around her finger as he slowly slides in and out of her. 

"Hands," his gruff voice says. 

She knows what he wants. She wants it too. She presents her wrists behind her. He laces the two fingers of one hand into the straps on both wrists. Pulling them tight behind her.

"Make me cum in that pussy baby, ride me," he leans back. 

Clenching his ass and pushing himself further upward, he gives her his whole shaft to ride. His thumb strokes the soft skin of her inner wrist. 

"Yes Austin,” she loves not having to think about what to do next. Getting her feet under her, she slowly rises and falls, savoring every centimeter of him.  The stress of the day forgotten as warmth percolates in her lower belly. 

"Fuck yes, god I love your wet cunt wrapped around my dick," he groans out. "Does it feel good doll?"

"Yes Austin," she moans through clenched teeth. Her hips gyrate in slow, wide circles as she slides him further into her. His head brushes past the singular delicious point on the front of her vagina. 

“Ohmigod!” falls from her lips as a shudder runs through her.  

"Don't you cum unless I say so," he struggles not to fuck her back, to let her do all the work. 

"Oh fuck, yes Austin," she moans. 

She had almost forgotten that part, it had been too long since he had taken the weight of the world from her shoulders. 

As she settles into a slow rhythm, Austin’s free hand slips around her ribcage, his long fingers pressing just under her breast. He steers her towards the pace he wants. 

“Yes baby doll, just like that,” his voice sonorous and deep. 

The exquisite ache starts to pour down his cock and coalesce deep in his groin. He takes a second to watch this gorgeous creature impaling herself on him. The muscles of her triceps popping  as he holds her arms. He can just see the sides of her tits, pressed out and bouncing.  He makes a mental note to have  a mirror to hang on the wall opposite so he can watch her fully. The idea makes his pelvic floor clench and his arousal heighten. 

“Oh god, oh fuck!” she cries out, his cock bouncing just a little inside her. It’s a small movement but it pings the nerves just right. It forces her muscles to contract deliciously around him, compelling her right up to her edge. The edge, she knew, that was not allowed to her, not yet. 

His chuckle came from deep in his chest. He knows she is getting close. He knows her cues, he made a study of her when they first got together, and he was nothing if not thorough. He fucking loves making her cum. 

Her clamping down on his cock makes him gasp.  Austin can’t help himself now, his glutes flexing and thighs straining, thrusting into her. The course of their movement falls naturally into him holding her still so he can fuck her.  He loves fucking her. The anticipation builds in him, the glorious pressure seeps into his lower stomach.

Her head is thrown back, her legs are shaking. His thrusts are perfection, pumping in and out of her, hitting her inside in a way that she just can’t emulate.   She loves it when he fucks her. Warmth rises to heat, swelling inside her seeking a crack from which to release. 

“Please, can I come, please,” she whines, toes curling, muscles tense trying to control the  pleasure wanting to burst out of her.  Wetness trickles down the base of his shaft and onto his balls, 

“NO!” his rasping reply through gritted teeth. He fucks her.

Her eyebrows draw together in a grimace, but the corner of her lips curl into a smile. Yeah, she loves this. This teetering on the edge, praying he will let her drench his cock. 

And he fucks her. 

“Ungh,” he groans out, “Fuck. Yes!” 

Even through the haze of pleasure she is attempting to override, she can tell when he is close. She knows every sound he makes, the groan in his throat when he is so turned on there is no stopping him. She knows the cadence of his thrusts, when his balls cling tightly to his body in preparation. She fucking loves making him so hot that he can’t help but chase his orgasm single mindedly. 

And he fucks her.

“Can I cum, can I cum, can I cum,” she starts to beg, moaning over and over. 

He knows she is practically cumming already. 

But he can’t answer. 

His thrusts start to stutter, he can feel the pressure building in his balls to the point of no return. Guttural animal noises are all that he can make as the release overtakes him, his body tense. His energy focused on the single point of pulsing and surging of his cum into her frantic pussy.

Finally, he manages to sputter out “Yes.” 

Her orgasm rockets from her as she fucks herself hard on his cock. Clenching him. Drenching him. 

“YES!  YES!  YES!” she is screaming. Spine writhing like a snake.

“Oh my fucking god!” Austin’s eyes roll back, he head lolling on the back of the chair, his now sensitive cock getting a pounding of its own. 

Finally she stills. Both of them shaking, twitching. He lets go of her wrists. She turns with ragged breath to curl up in his waiting arms. 

>>>><<<<

Austin held her hand, forefinger looped through the bracelet on her hand. They had somehow managed to avoid most paparazzi, though by now they just always assumed there would be photos of them. 

 They walked down the alleyway, towards the blue neon feline over a paint-splattered black door with a stenciled white outline of a cat. It looked grungy and unkept. She looked at Austin as though he was crazy. He just smiled at her, pulled at the door handle without a scrap of hesitation. 

She was wearing the outfit he picked out for her. A dark brown wraparound cocktail dress with capped sleeves and plunging neckline. The curved hemline of the wrap meeting in the front, forming an inverted V. Her legs flashed as she walked. He picked it because he could have easy and full access to her bare pussy. Of course he wouldn’t let her have panties.   She wore leather heeled sandals with straps that criss-crossed and matched the cuffs dangling from her wrists. 

The second they walk down the stairs and into the speakeasy, she knows why he loves it here. It’s like they were instantly transported backstage. Props and set pieces make up the decor, it’s dark and intimate. There is exposed brick and  ductwork and even a steel support beam bolted to its  concrete footing.  She half expects to see a rack of costumes roll by and actors with overly emphasized rouged cheeks hurrying to make their entrance, stage left. 

There is a stage in fact, a tiny one. There is a band playing and the place is pleasantly filled with patrons. 

The bartender greets him like an old friend. They exchange a few sentences and he introduces her. Austin never lets go of her hand. Almost as if she is an anchor for his introverted self in the metaphorical sea of people. 

They are shown to the most dark secluded round table with round couch seating in the back corner next to an egress that says ‘STAGE’ in grungy, scuffed lettering. He motions for her to take a seat.

“Peel that skirt slit back as you sit,” he whispers as he strips off his elegant black jacket revealing his basic white t-shirt underneath and the stitching detail on his black trousers. As he sits, he lays the jacket partially over her lap as though she was cold. It’s just a little extra insurance, the table hides most of her lap. 

He snuggles her in tight to him, his long legs crossed towards her. Her hand rests lightly on his thigh One arm languidly around her shoulders, the other resting high on her now bare thigh under his jacket.  He looks her up and down while they sit and enjoy the music for a minute, his fingers making little circles on her inner thigh. 

“You know Doll,” he leans in, lips close to her ear, “you look good enough to eat, I might just make you my daily meal.” 

Her arm curls her hand to play in his dark hair. The moment is  so intimate. She looks demurely down, pressing her lips together as his fingers graze her other ones under the table. 

The waitress walks over. They both smile up at her like he doesn't have his hand up her dress. 

“Hi, what can I get you two lovebirds,” she says, “Oh wow, I love your bracelet. Where did you get it.” 

“He had them specially made for me,” she grins at Austin. He just nods, not offering any more information. 

The waitress doesn’t note the plural. Austin orders  a lemon sour and the grilled maitake for her and decides on the fried quail and a green toki highball for himself. 

When the drinks are delivered, Austin removes his hand from her thigh and then replaces it with the one draped over her shoulders. 

“Wider,” he says smiling while handing her the lemon sour. Her legs part just enough so his hand can slip between them. As he sips, he pulses two fingers against her labia in time to the music.  

She  watches the  little stage, trying not to show her arousal on her face as she drinks. His pulsing becomes pushing as her wetness creeps onto his digits. Slowly sinking his long dextrous fingers over her clit and to the second knuckle inside her warm wet pussy over and over. It’s getting harder for her to keep her composure. 

Food arrives. He retracts his fingers, wiping them cursorily between her thighs. She notes that they still glisten as he pulls a piece of quail off with his hands. Looking her in the eyes, he licks his fingers off before putting the bite in his mouth. 

She knows what that beautiful tongue can do and hopefully will do later, if she’s good.

When they are done with their meal, she excuses herself to the bathroom, slickness lubricating her inner thighs.   She makes her way through the rabbit warren that is the underground of this building to find the restroom. She tries her best to wipe away her arousal, not that she is embarrassed, she loves being this wet for Austin. It’s just that she came dangerously close to leaving a wet spot  on the back of her dress. 

When she steps out, hair, pussy and makeup refreshed, Austin is there, coat over his arm,  in the tight hallway. He smiles and takes her by the hand, fingers looping into the leather at her wrist. He leads her, she is sure, in the wrong direction, away from the speakeasy. 

“Austin, I think it’s that way,” she says, pointing over her shoulder, forgetting the rules of their game. 

He stops near a door and looks at her with one eyebrow cocked. “Are you questioning me?” 

“I just don’t want them to think we aren’t paying… or … some…thing.” she says, her words falling off.

“Hmm,” is all he says. 

He pushes the door open staring at her, then nods his head toward the dark entrance.   He had been here before, and was hoping not much had changed. 

The door led into another darkened narrow hallway, then opened onto the backstage wing of this old theater.  There was a concrete ledge and exposed brick, even some graffiti. The leg curtains still hang, dusty, masking this little used space. 

The stage itself and the old seating area are clearly in the process of some kind of remodeling job. The lights are still on, blazing. Someone may still be at work here at this late hour. 

Austin walks a little, checking out the stage. She can tell the place is speaking to his theater blood. He places his jacket on the stone ledge.  He strides two steps toward her and leans against the stone to brick wall. With narrowed eyes, he looks her up and down. 

"Damn baby doll," the fingers of his right hand, glide across his bottom lip and chin as if trying to decide what to do with her, “about that daily meal.”

He reaches for her, pulling her against him. He flips her hair over her shoulder with the back of his hand, sliding it behind her neck and up to the back of her head. He presses her back to the wall. 

"Spread your legs baby doll," his lips brush her ears as he grasps her hair in a loose fist. 

The sensation on her head makes her shudder, the growl of his voice sends deep vibrations to her core. She steps her feet gingerly apart. 

"Lift your skirt, like a good girl," he kisses her cheek sweetly. 

Her fingers gather the front of her skirt into her palms. The cool air of the space feels good on her hot cunt. 

"Mmm, such a pretty pussy," he croons in her ear. Austin's long fingers brush the length of her outer lips.

"This is pretty dry baby,  do you not like our little game anymore?" he asks with almost a pout, patting her mons, "do you want me to stop?" He lets his hand drop to his side. 

"No, no, I love it," she says quickly. She grabs his hand and pulls it back to her, “please don't stop." She was too far into the scene now, he had built her up too much all night to just stop. She needed him, needed whatever he decided to give her tonight. 

"Tch, tch, tch,” his tongue clicks on the roof of his mouth, “oh Doll, did I say you could let go of your skirt?" He looks at her reprovingly, one eyebrow lifted, "questioning me, making up your own directions… oh no.” 

Whoops. 

"I'm sorry…Sir," she quickly gathered her skirt up again, bottom lip catching in her teeth. 

"Oh sugar, it's ok, or it will be in a minute," a devilish smile curls his lips.

Slap! His hand met her pussy with a sharp smack. The jolt sent electricity through her. She fucking loved when he slapped her pussy, liked it even when her bracelets weren't on. 

"Say it," his voice was stern as he pets her, his eyes locked onto hers in the dim light. 

"Austin," she breathes.

Slap! Her mouth curves slightly upwards as she jolts, chin tilting up. 

"Is," the word comes out more defiant than she meant. 

The hand in her hair tightens hard and pulls her head back, towering over her, his jawline set.  Moisture springs immediately to the waterline of her eyes. 

SLAP! Harder. Her leg shakes with the pain and pleasure of it. 

"Hnngh, In," more of a moan than a spoken word. 

Austin's lips brush hers. His tongue flickers out to wet her lips, then his own push gently against them. His lips leave, but his eyes remain close to hers. She can see her desire reflected in his eyes. 

SLAP! Hardest. 

"Charge!" the word squeals from her throat.

"Mmm hmmm, that's right Doll," he croons, staring at her eyes, "now, are you gonna be good and do as I say?”"

She would nod if she could, but his grip on her hair was just tight enough to restrict her movement.

“Yes Sir,” she breathes out. 

“That’s my girl,” he releases her hair and kisses her softly, lovingly, his hand rubbing soothingly on her tingly,  dry lips. 

“Hmm, maybe this little pussy  just needs some encouragement?” he rubs a deep circle over her mons. Zings of pleasure tighten in her. 

“Oh fuck,” slips from her mouth.

“Oh my, what a dirty mouth you have, Doll. Do I need to give it something else to do?” he asks, stepping back from her, fingers tapping the clasp at his waist. 

She stands there, looking down at his tapping hand, breath shallow. She is still holding her dress up, still exposed to him, for him. Gods she is beautiful, he was so smitten with her.  

She is trying so hard to be good.  All she really wants is to leap on him, make him fuck her until she fills the thearter with the cacophony of her screaming orgasm. It was easier to cum when she was loud. 

“Hmm?” he waits. 

Slowly, she raises her eyes to his, chin still pointed down, a little hungry smile on her lips. She just nods. She loves his cock in her mouth. 

His eyebrow twitches and a little moan sounds deep in his throat. If he wasn’t fully hard before, the look on her face made him so now. He pulls open the clasp quicker than he meant to. 

Fuck she made him want her so badly. He thought about just sinking his cock into her. Fucking her until she begged him to stop, then doing it a little longer. She would be loud in this cavernous place and probably alert everyone in a half mile radius. 

He took a breath, calming himself just a little.  Not trusting himself to talk just yet, he indicates the floor with his eyes and a little nod of his head.

She slowly gets down on her knees in front of him licking her lips in preparation.

“Open” he commands as he pulls himself out.  

He places his velvety head on her outstretched tongue. 

Her eyes look up at him, she knows he likes that. The tip of her tongue laps up and down on his frenulum, her mouth still wide open. His breath leaves him in a low moan as she gradually drags his cock further and further into her mouth. When his tip hits her soft palette, her lips close engulfing him. Her wet lips dragging along his dry shaft. 

Her hands are still on the hem of her dress, holding it up, exposing herself.  Afterall, he didn’t tell her to let go and she is trying so hard to be good for him.  

He holds himself at the base as she glides her head back and forth over his length. Her tongue rippling along his underside.  He hadn’t planned on fucking her mouth, he hadn’t planned on cumming until they got home. But the thrill of maybe being caught was exhilarating and she was so fucking good at this. He found himself holding her head still and thrusting into her. He tried not to make her gag too much, but when it happened it was so hot. 

She fucking loves this, loves his movement in her mouth, loves it when he gags her just a bit, bringing up that thick spit from the back of her throat. She is surprised when his hands go to her hair to hold her still. She didn’t think he’d go for it here. It’s hot, the way he loses control. She presses her lips over her teeth. Breath is seething through his teeth, she can tell he is close. 

Her tongue feels like some kind of wizardry along the underside of his shaft. Her eyes are closed, and he watches himself sink between her pretty pink lips. 

She is his good girl, his naughty girl. 

His.

“I’m gonna cum, I don’t want to see any of it leave your mouth,” he whispers to her. His head tilts back, as she sucks him long and hard. 

Muttered curses come from him in his last few thrusts. He surges into her mouth, hot and sticky.  She greedily swallows everything he gives her. As he pulls out, her tongue presses up on the bottom of his cock, milking the dregs of his cum onto her tongue. He groans.  She leaves her tongue out to show him. 

“Let me see that dirty mouth. What a good girl you are,” he pants, “Swallow it hunny.” 

She does, licking her lips. Fuck she is hot.

He pulls her up to standing. Wiping his thumb along her wet chin. Then kissing her mouth deeply.  Her hips are rocking back and forth lewdly, hands still holding her dress up. It is clear she is too far gone to just leave. 

He deliberately tucks his spent cock back into his pants. She lets out a little whine. 

“Such a good girl, swallowing all my cum. I think you earned a little reward, don’t you?” his fingers lightly play at the collar of her dress. 

She is practically seething with desire, if she didn’t have the bracelets on, she would have shoved him up against the wall and had her way with him. But all she can do right now is nod. 

“Use your words,” he admonishes, fingers tracing down the curves of her waist. “Tell me what you want.”

“I…” she pants, ”I need...” 

“What do you need, baby doll, tell me…” he urges her on.

“I need… I need to cum.” the last word exhaled out, barely audible. 

“Oh but baby Doll,” his pinky and thumb splayed to either side, he draws a long, slow line up her inner thighs. She shudders as his touch sends electricity up her spine. He stops just short. “You forgot to say please.” 

SLAP! 

Her pussy stings in the most glorious way. 

“Start over,” he says low in her ear. 

SLAP! 

“I need..” she moans SLAP!

“to cum…” she is shaking

SLAP! 

“Please!” her voice a whine.

SLAP! 

“SIR!” The last impact is like stinging rapture.

“Shhhh, that’s better, my good girl,” he says quietly in her ear. “I’m gonna make you cum, but you have to be quiet. Understand?”

Her eyes go big for a second, she is terrible at being quiet, but she is shaking with the wanting of him, she won’t make it home in this state. She just nods, biting her lip,  hoping she can. 

He backs her up to the stone ledge, grasping her inner thigh, he lifts her leg so that her foot is on the ledge. She is more exposed than ever, wide open for him. 

“Keep your hands on the ledge,” he whispers in her ear. 

He falls to his knees in front of her. 

“Well that did it baby doll, you are dripping now. You must like me in your mouth, yes?”

“Oh yes sir,” she whispers. 

“Do you like it when I punish this pretty pussy” he asks, looking up at her. 

She just whines and nods, not trusting herself to speak.

“I’m gonna clean this up now, you stay quiet.” 

He licks long strokes up her pussy, strings of moisture sticking to his tongue. With one hand, he spreads her labia wide. He can see her glisten, even in the dim light. Knowing he doesn’t need to gently warm her up, he dives right in. He presses his mouth to her, his nose buried against her mons. The middle of his tongue rolling wide just below her clit. God he loves the taste of her pussy. He could lick her all night. 

The instant his tongue hits her, her supporting leg nearly gives out. Thankfully the ledge is there to hold her up. 

His tongue reaches back, pushing into her as far as he can go. He laps up toward her clit, bringing her juices along.

God he is good at this. She is lost in the motions of his tongue against her. Her lips pressed tight together, trying not to moan. She could let him tongue fuck her into oblivion. 

He traces a circle around her clit. Then two fingers push their way into her wet slit. Her spine curls over him as thrilling tension fills her. He flicks her clit with the tip of his tongue, then rubs with a wide tongue, fucking her slowly with his fingers.  

Her head is tucked forward, body clenched tight, the heat behind her clit collapsing in on itself. 

“Please can I come? Please?” she barely whispers. 

“Mmmhmm,” he nods, looking up at her. Holy shit, his blue eyes against that black hair looking up at her from between her legs? Divine.

Little outpourings of her juices start to soak his hand. He sucks her clit into the vacuum of his mouth, licking, licking, licking. Fingering her faster. 

He can hear a quiet, high pitched nasal whine, her teeth clamping down on the meaty pad of her thumb. Suddenly she is jerking against his mouth, exploding, thrusting her gushing cunt onto his fingers. It’s all he can do to keep contact with her wild gyrations. 

Eventually, she slows, as does he. He stands up, adjusting his now once again hardening cock. He puts his arms around her, holding her close as little aftershocks yank at her core. 

“There’s my good baby Doll.” he whispers lovingly in her ear.

She curls into him, panting quietly. 

Then he hears voices float down from the back of the theater. 

“Yes sir and as you can see we have already started renovations here.. Let me take you down and show you what we plan to do with the stage area.” 

“Very good, how much longer will all this take?”

His eyes go huge. She is still oblivious, coming down off her high. 

“Shh, we have to go,” he whispers to her. He grabs his coat and drags her quietly with his wet hand to the cramped, dark  hallway where they came in.  As they reach the door, they can hear the voices. 

“What are these water drips on the floor?” 

“Oh, um… I don't know we’ll have to check if there are any pipes up there”

“I was told this building was sound…”

Austin opens the door back near the bathrooms of the speakeasy, lips pressed together. Once the door shuts behind them he breaks out in giggles, dragging her away from the door. 

“Holy crap, that was close,” he says. 

“I didn’t see any water on the floor?” she is still slightly befuddled. 

“Oh baby, that was you all over the floor,” he tells her with a knowing smile. 

Her mouth drops open. She stops and  down at her splattered legs and covers her laughter with her hands. 

“Whoops” she says, still giggling, leaning on the wall. 

“Whoops is right,” he pulls a strand of hair away from her face. Holding her hand, he unbuckles one, then both bracelets from her wrists. They slip into his pockets. 

“I think I’d like to take you home and take my time to make love to you, if you are ok with that.” 

“Mmm more than ok,” her smile is huge and warm, “thank you Austin, I really needed that.”

“You are welcome, I’m sorry it’s been so long sweetheart,” his hand comes to her face, “and in case I haven’t said it, I am so thankful you are here with me, enduring the chaos that is sometimes my life. I love you so much.” 

“It’s our life, Austin,” she says with soft eyes, “and I wouldn't have it any other way. I love you too.”  

Their lips press together in a soft, sweet kiss. 

[blackestnight]

1: subtle arts

Day 1: Envoy Word count: 1844 Hanami has the worst vacation ever. Starfinder AU.

Hanami made it two entire days into her system leave before she got insufferably bored, which was probably a record of some sort. She heaved a sigh, set down her glass—sweating condensation in the jungle heat, which she wiped off on the slick fabric of her carbonweave trousers—and picked up her datapad. First she sent a message to Yugiri, so she could alert the winners of the inevitable betting pool back at base, and then she opened the local infosphere port.

Boring. Boring. Boring. Not that she was expecting much in the way of difficult mercenary contracts, at least not freelance; Castrovel’s civil war had ended decades ago and the vast majority of the guard work in the jungle was done by private companies, plus the formians across the strait still had their colony structure—besides, they hadn’t quite figured out personal pronouns well enough to comfortably navigate dense legalese in written contracts. And the elves were just assholes, as a rule. Boring. Boring.

She blew her bangs away from her forehead and skimmed the highest-paying entry. Some corporate agent from Absalom looking for a local guide. Bonus pay to make up for the short notice, plus company-sponsored food and lodging for the week.

Hanami shrugged, downed the rest of her juice, and clicked bid.

—

Myraka wasn’t the worst client she’d taken on, but four days into the job she kept having to remind herself why. He was chatty—always prattling about himself, his job, his clothes, his job, his favorite currency conversion tools, his job, and the ‘charming’ architecture of Cordona. And his job. Which would have been less grating if he hadn’t been an investment banker.

At least he’d exhausted his interview-disguised-as-small-talk questions for her after the first day. (What brought you to Castrovel? Used to vacation here with her last partner, before he got eaten by a dragon. Why take on more work on your leave? Remembered she hated vacations. Is it true you led a centuria during the Swarm invasion? Yes, it took a year to finish scraping the bug goop out of her ship’s vent ports.)

The meetings were better than the downtime, because none of the prattle was directed at her, and although she did a lot of standing around, it was at least standing around with a purpose—mentally engaging, if not physically. The green-wings back at base who complained about guard duty being a drag were shitty guards; staying engaged and alert for hours at a time took focus and effort, and zoning out or drifting off was how you ended up with compromised bases and dead bodies.

Day four started with brunch—Hanami had been amusing herself by ordering different cocktails every morning at breakfast, just to see if she could make Myraka twitch; he hadn’t yet, and she was still trying to suss out if it was because he knew she was immune to sedatives and stimulants or because he was too polite to point out the blatant day-drinking. He was even more hyperactive than usual, fiddling with his cuffs and his tablet pen while he talked, and once they’d finished eating he brushed nonexistent dirt off his ugly gold suit and bounced to his feet.

“Well!” he announced, pushing his wrought-iron chair back into place with its matching kitschy patio table. “I hope you’ve saved room, Captain Hagane—next on the agenda is high tea with an ambassador from Nerundel, and I would hate to insult the man by declining the cakes! You are wearing your best jacket, yes?” (She was. It was the same jacket she’d been wearing all week. The Skyfire Legion didn’t have a formal uniform as such, but the golden Centurion’s seal at her shoulders was recognizable enough to command respect from most people who bothered to look.) “Let’s be off, we daren’t be late!”

They took a hard-light cab from the cafe into the heart of the inner city, where skyscrapers and towering botanical gardens crowded up against the massive steel wall that blocked off access to the rest of the continent, elven mithril hovercraft darting around the tops like glittering insects and automated turrets swaying like morbid, stiff flowers. Myraka bounded through the front doors of another restaurant—silver vines twitched and uncoiled as they drew near, unfurling over the entrance to spell out The Jade Bower in looping script—and Hanami followed as a butler bowed to them both and led them into a gilded lift, which brought them to the top floor, directly into a tearoom with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the top of the border wall, where they were just tall enough to see the tops of the trees on the other side. The plexiglass was faceted around the edges, likely meant to spray rainbows across the marble floors, but all Hanami could think was that this was probably what it felt like to be a fly. The rooms were lined with glass columns, each filled with its own tiny ecosystem—a miniature waterfall in one, jewel-winged butterflies crawling on golden honeysuckle in another—and a long banquet table sat in the center of the room, under a chandelier dripping with crystal lilies, the embroidered tablecloth obscured by the trays near-overflowing with baked sweets.

One of the seats was already occupied by an elven man—a true elf, Hanami noted as he turned to greet them; his eyes were a richer blue than you saw in any human, with no whites to speak of, fading to a darker ink color near where a pupil might be, and the overall effect was a bit eerie—who rose from his chair with arms spread. “Welcome! Master Myraka, it is an honor—we’ve refreshments aplenty. Shall we start with tea, or wine? Anything for your guest?” he added, sparing a glance for Hanami, who refrained from rolling her eyes and settled into parade rest behind Myraka’s chair with a shake of her head. Myraka started to babble, and Hanami settled into her routine of vigilance, watching the windows (guards in Sovyrian uniforms patrolling along the border wall at regular intervals, rifles slung over their shoulders) and the vents (fine filigree mesh covering the openings, and no telltale flash of mirrors or camera lenses when she called the smallest of sunsparks to her fingertips) and the table (all hands clearly visible, the elf leaning forward in polite interest while Myraka nearly vibrated with nervous energy).

The base of Hanami’s neck began to prickle. The Sovyrian guards outside the window turned on their heels mid-march and walked away.

“Yes, the scholars of our Halls are quite excited to explore more practical uses for the cultivars they’ve been developing with the Xenowardens,” the elf said. “As I understand, Abadarcorp has been doing phenomenally well in the pharmaceuticals trade.”

Myraka laughed. “The Keeper smiles upon His faithful! And upon the savvy, of course.”

Hanami shifted her weight behind Myraka’s seat, letting the cybernetics in her legs click and whir slightly. Shh-shh-click. Shh-shh-shh.

“The savvy,” the elf said agreeably. “And the swindling.”

Myraka froze.

“I beg your pardon?” he said, with a titter bordering on hysterical. One hand twitched toward his own elbow.

Hanami moved.

Left leg, sweep: shatter the legs of the chair, send it flying. Pivot. Right arm in, palm open, perfectly positioned to catch Myraka under his jaw. She’d timed it so well that his torso didn’t move at all as she seized him by the throat; the only sign that anything had happened was the frantic flailing of his legs and the terror draining the blood from his face.

Well, that and the clattering of his ion pistol as it fell from his sleeve.

“Start begging,” she said.

The elf sighed as he stood, carefully moving his own chair aside and brushing wrinkles from his robe. “I appreciate a well-crafted deception as much as you do, Master Myraka,” he said, as he carefully rolled up his sleeves. “It requires true artistry to conceal a plot of this magnitude. I rather fear that my friend has little patience for the arts, though.” He fingered a silver cuff adorning his wrist, slipping two fingers under the metal, and there was a gentle click and an electric hum—the elf’s face seemed to shimmer like a heat mirage for a heartbeat as the holoskin shut off, as the royal blue faded from his eyes to reveal white sclera, irises the color of a frozen lake. His ears grew shorter, the angles of his jaw gentler.

“I, on the other hand,” Aymeric said, and raised his hand to touch a point below his ear, and suddenly the airy, chiming tones of his voice melted into his usual warm baritone, “have always committed myself to a variety of studies. Back to the topic at hand, however—that price-fixing scheme of yours. Care to divulge the names of your conspirators?”

Myraka croaked, and Hanami tightened her grip. “I don’t—I won’t—”

Aymeric shot her a wry smile. “Careful. He does need to talk.”

“They have telepaths here,” she grumbled, but obligingly dropped Myraka—with a clench of her fist, he hit the floor spread-eagled, gravity pressing down on him with sudden magnitudes of force that had him heaving for breath. “And I had to listen to him nattering about fucking stock exchanges all week. Let me have fun.”

Aymeric brushed her arm as he rounded the table, then bent at the waist just enough to meet Myraka’s eyes. “From one businessman to another, I have a deal to offer,” he said. “You tell me—and the Stewards—what we wish to know, and we can have this conversation like civil beings. Or if you insist on continued resistance, I’ll have no choice but to leave you to the good Captain’s tender mercies. Either way, you will be spending a long, long time in prison, Myraka, so you truly have nothing to lose.”

“Except your limbs,” Hanami added.

Aymeric glanced at her from the corners of his eyes with an indulgent grin. “I’d rather not witness a dismemberment today, my star.”

Hanami shrugged. “Close your eyes.”

Myraka gulped.

—

Later, once the Stewards had shut Myraka in their shuttle, and Lucia had seen them off with a crisp salute, Hanami helped Aymeric finish picking the holoskin nodes out of his hairline. “Next time I choose the vacation,” she grumbled. “Fucking stock exchanges, Aymeric.”

He grimaced and shook his bangs from his eyes, tucking the nodes into his pocket, and slipped the voice modulator cuff from his ear. “You still have three days of leave, do you not? I hear there are carnivorous jungle expeditions that set out from an island just west of here.”

She grunted, but took the apology for what it was. “You better have packed your hiking boots.”

His rich, warm laugh was lightyears better than the bell-chime chuckle he’d been affecting with the modulator, and made even more welcome by the hand he slid up her spine. “As soon as I get changed, we can wrestle bloodthirsty megaflora to your heart’s delight,” he assured her, and she snorted and slung an arm over his shoulder to guide him down the sidewalk.

[omniblades-and-stars]

WIP Whenever I Don't Care You're Not My Real Dad

I got tagged by @korblez for this. So I'm gonna post something that is 100% absolutely his fault. I haven't written a ton this week, so this is what I have to offer today.

I'm brain dead for real after the week I've had work. So you, if you're reading this, I have tagged you. Yes, you! Go forth, share with us.

Without further ado snippet of the thing I'm working on (sorry, not sorry):

BLOOD & GRENADINE

The pair walked casually to a small table set in a corner. It gave them a good view of the entire ballroom. And the view of the ballroom?

It was like someone watched far too many ancient vids about old Hollywood parties, with the old art deco style with the dark walls and solid line accents to break it up, but instead of stylish gold, they embedded weak cyan lights into the wall. The effect was like looking at old computer chips except it gave you a migraine if you stared at it too long. The lights cast strange shadows.

Across the room on the far side were rows of floor to ceiling windows and glass doors that led to high balconies with large ferns planted in cement planters cast with thick, angled lines to further ape a time long since passed. Those Zaeed couldn't find any faults with. Maybe a drink or two in, he might have been willing to even say that he liked them. Three or four and maybe he'd put on a trilby and start talking like an old school mobster for shits and giggles, schee?

“Too many goddamn windows,” Zaeed muttered.

“We'd be sitting ducks if there was a sniper out there,” said Garrus at the same time.

Negative one.

They sat across from each other and Massani wasted no time in perusing the drink menu. Fancy wines, over-priced liquor, cocktails that cost enough to feed a family for one night. Ah well, when in Rome and all that. He was going to get a drink. Just add it to the tab for Red to reimburse him for.

“Are you really going to drink tonight?”

Zaeed raised his eyes only scooch off of the menu to respond with a wink, “You want people to believe this is a dinner date, or what?” Usually, he just drank his liquor straight, whiskey, bourbon, vodka - shit, it didn't really matter. That burn as it went down was what reminded him that he was still breathing. Taste didn't really matter when you were often scraping the bottom of the galaxy's barrel running hither and yon chasing down assholes for credits. Didn't mean he was a man without taste, he just knew how to turn it off, measure his expectations. “'Sides, one drink isn't gonna do anything to me except cost me enough credits to buy a new scope for the old Mattock.”

Garrus' mandibles fluttered briefly as he considered the wisdom of Zaeed's defense. Or more accurately, considering just how often he'd seen him with a tumbler of some brown liquor or another during the years that they'd been working together now. Given the truly unbelievable number of bottles left over as evidence of Shepard and Zaeed's contest (the number of which could have killed a krogan), it was within the scope of belief that drinking one cocktail wouldn't make a dent in the man's sobriety.

Having decided that Zaeed was correct, Garrus picked up the menu to peruse it himself. The offerings of dextro safe wines and liquors were unsurprisingly small, and included dual-chirality options that were just right out. Those were never good. He'd be better off chugging a bottle of rubbing alcohol based on taste alone.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I'll be your server tonight,” a chipper young woman with curly hair interrupted their ponderance of booze and its variations with a broad smile on rosy cheeks. “Dinner will be served in about fifteen minutes. May I get you something to drink while you wait?” She was a pretty girl, with masses of curly brown hair that were barely wrangled into a braid, and doeish, brown eyes that looked far too happy to be living on Earth post-near-apocalypse.

Zaeed heard a rumble in Garrus' chest, that same one that always came before he made a bad joke. And coupled with the daring glint in those baby blues of his, Zaeed knew that it was on. “Hm, I don't know. Darling, what looks good to you?”

Even.

“For you, love, the Brandy Alexandrus. You have quite a sweet tooth,” Zaeed practically purred without looking up from his menu. Blue was going to have to try a lot harder than that if he wanted the merc to crack. He sat through Shepard's god awful speech before hitting the Collector base without so much as cracking a grin. Besides, he'd definitely been to dinner with a helluva lot worse than the likes of the smug turian across from him. At least he was reasonably certain that Vakarian wouldn't try to kill him by the end of the night.

[skyler10fic]

Curiosity Caught the Carol

Summary:

Daisy sneaks out of the base one night to track down the superhero hottie who helped her team earlier in the day.

Note: For @isolus-girl who prompted me from a prompt meme in April and this is what eventually came of it!

Read on Ao3

--------------

Daisy would say it wasn't like herself to defy orders, but of course, that was a lie. What made tonight different wasn't sneaking out after nightfall or going off on her own without the team's knowledge. It was the nervous fluttering in her stomach for the reason. Usually if she was going to disobey Coulson or May, it was because she was making a hard call in the field to do what was right, and she knew she could justify it to them for the sake of the mission.

Tonight, this was pure curiosity. Well, that too was a lie. It was curiosity and lust. The odd, superpowered blonde woman—who had taken out the alien threat earlier today before her team even had a chance—knew something about the Kree. She wasn't surprised to see one on Earth, and while Coulson and May chatted with her after the battle, her phone had been surprisingly easy to put a tracer on.

Daisy tracked her to a local pub that was a safe haven and hangout for Shield agents and their allies and assets. Inside, the noisy crowd made it easy to blend in but harder to pinpoint her target. Then, Daisy spotted her. The woman was at a booth with someone else, but instead of her red, gold, and blue supersuit, she was now in a Nine Inch Nails shirt with jeans and her hair in loose golden waves. She was so different, so relaxed. But still gorgeous. Daisy turned to order a drink at the bar to avoid staring, but she couldn’t help how her eyes kept floating back to a certain table. Were they on a date? Was this her partner—and if so, in what meaning of the word?

The bartender served Daisy her cocktail just as the woman spotted her in the crowd, gestured with her drink, and said something to her friend. They were clearly talking about Daisy, so Daisy turned away to pretend like she wasn’t staring. To Daisy’s surprise, the blonde woman approached her at the bar and tapped her shoulder to get her attention.

"I was hoping I'd see you again," she said, leaning casually on the wood countertop. "We didn't get a chance to officially meet earlier. I'm Carol."

“Hi. I’m Daisy.” Daisy's heart skipped a beat looking into Carol's honey eyes up close.

Ohhh, she thought to herself. She was in so much trouble, in more ways than one.

“You know,” Carol said casually, “if you wanted my number, you could have just asked.”

“Ah.” She’d been caught. “Sorry about that.”

“It was nice to know you’re as good as Coulson says you are. Man of his word.” Carol’s lips turned up in a self-confident half-smile. “My friend and I are just catching up. Want to join us?”

Daisy glanced back to where her friend was sitting patiently at their booth. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

“Nah, she’s probably headed home soon anyway. Kid to pick up from the babysitter.”

Daisy saw an opening. “And you, do you have someone waiting for you at home, wherever that is?”

Carol took a sip of her beer and smirked, seeing right through Daisy’s seemingly innocent question. “Nah, I stay with my friend and her daughter when I’m in town, but I tend to go where I’m needed.”

“Yeah, I know something about that kind of life. Nothing holding you down. Just the open road—or sky, for you.” Daisy nodded. So this fellow superhero wasn’t planning on sticking around. Understandable, but a damn shame for Daisy’s instant crush on her.

Carol must have noted Daisy’s visible disappointment because her tone brightened quickly. “It can get old after a while though, you know? Coulson offered me a consulting gig with your team. Wanna come tell me more about the job? Might be a good fit.” Carol shrugged.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” Hope rekindled, Daisy followed Carol back to the table and introduced herself to Maria.

Carol asked questions about the way Shield was run these days, but Maria’s were more along the lines of interviewing Daisy herself. Finally, Maria nodded and smiled. “I like her,” she said to Carol and gathered up her things. “I have to get home to my daughter, but it was nice meeting you, Daisy.”

“You too.”

Carol blushed as Maria walked away. “Sorry, she gets a little protective of my …”

“Your…? Your work contacts? Your friendships with other people?” Daisy was fishing and she knew it, but she wanted to watch Carol blush more and bit her lip.

“My … dates?” Carol guessed. Bold.

“Dates? Is that what we’re on right now?” She gestured to the crowded, noisy bar around them with a soccer match playing overhead on a jumbo TV.

“Oh, c’mon, no,” Carol defended. “I do a lot better than this for dates, especially first dates.”

Daisy hummed in approval and leaned on the table. “Yeah, like what?”

Carol scoffed. “I can’t tell you.”

“Confidential, huh? Afraid I’ll steal your secrets and copy your moves?” Daisy raised an eyebrow and sipped from her drink.

Carol licked her lip subtly before answering. “Because it’d spoil the surprise.”

“I like surprises.” Daisy grinned.

Carol sealed the flirtation with the question Daisy was waiting for. “What do you say? I’ll accept Coulson’s offer and the next time we have a night off, I’ll show you a real first date.”

“Looking forward to it.”

They ordered another round of drinks and bonded late into the night talking about the Shield team dynamics, their work, the Kree, their powers, and all they had been through.

—---------------------------------

Daisy’s hangover the next day was hell to fight through while training with May, but when Carol walked by with Coulson on their way to his office, it was all worth it.

May noted her glance. “You know the rules. You don’t have to tell me or him anything unless it becomes a problem. Don’t get distracted, stay on mission, and we’re all good.”

Daisy knew better than to pretend she didn’t know what May was talking about. “Got it.”

They resumed their training and by the time they were done, Carol had been assigned a room next to Daisy’s and was being evaluated by FitzSimmons in the lab for her physical capabilities and strengths as an asset, updating them from her old Shield file the last time she’d been on Earth. Being an Avenger, or at least the original inspiration for them, gave her a fast track to onboarding as she was already unofficially part of the agency.

And like Daisy, her unique mix of human biology with Kree tinkering meant they would both age just as slowly; Jemma estimated even at roughly the same pace.

They had only just met, but it was the first time in a long time that Daisy felt like someone understood all of her: Shield, superpowers, being sort-of-part-alien, being sapphic, and more.

It turned out she was right. The longer Carol stuck around and dated her and trained with her and fought by her side, the harder Daisy fell head over heels in love. Lucky for her, Carol felt exactly the same way.

[rivetgoth]

Not to be all mushy and romantic (actually I jest, I never feel the need to apologize for that) but me & Angel were recommended this dessert restaurant entirely geared towards couples, all they sell are super fancy desserts for two and super super elegant fancy cocktails with chocolate-rimmed glasses and all these kitschy over the top romantic lovecore stuff, candied rose pedals, glitter, alcohol-flavored ice creams and frostings, all of the things on the menu have dumb little sex jokes for names (like a peanut butter whisky-based drink called peanut-tration LMAO), super dim candlelit atmosphere, black and white bondage photos on the walls, gold trim and red vinyl seats. All the tables are for two and you could select if you wanted to sit next to your date or across from them. It was just sooooo cute, we had such a good time and it felt like a dream 🥺🥺🥺

We got a salted caramel chocolate cake with irish cream ice cream and one of the tastiest cocktails I have EVER had at a restaurant in my life, it was rose-flavored simple syrup with candied sugared rose blossoms in prosecco, with a white chocolate rim around the glass and edible pink glitter. When we got the drink our server turned on her flashlight to show us the glitter and it was so sparkly and just so stunningly pretty. I love finding little places like this, they just feel like such fun little magical spaces to explore, it’s one of my favorite things ever about living in a big city. I’m still devastated that the first place me and Angel ever went closed permanently after the pandemic-- It was a little cafe that sold kinda arguably overpriced coffee and generally seemed pretty unassuming, but the kicker was that in the back there was a “forest room,” which kinda looked like if the rainforest cafe was the size of an apartment building kitchen. It was a little corner with dark atmospheric lighting, giant fake trees with branches that extended across a ceiling covered in lights meant to look like stars and a full moon, a fake owl peering down from one of the branches, with a little seating area. It was crazy.

[providencepeakrp]

𝐴𝑛 𝐴𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑚𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝐶𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 —

Providence Peak is invited to celebrate a day Providence Peak never thought it would see — the wedding of Emeline Cormier and Verda Durmaz. Despite recently already tying the knot, the two wanted the opportunity to celebrate with the friends and family they've made in the city that brought them back together once more. The wedding will have a cozy autumnal feel with the main portion of the wedding held overlooking the fall foilage of Providence Peak at the edge of a moutain and the reception following will take place at the base of the mountain with plenty of fires and blankets to keep everyone warm when they're not dancing. Be sure to stop by the guest book table and snap a polaroid before writing a note along with it and signing your name! The catered dinner will be an array of Turkish favorites served by The Silk Road and dessert will consist of wedding cake, mini pumpkin and apple pies, and warm hot chocolate courtesy of the Hot Cocoa Stop pop up truck. Omar Watson and Maximiliano Cortez of A Touch of Ink will be offering a special flash tattoo sheet courtesy of the brides during the reception with handpicked images by the brides themselves to give you something to remember the celebration forever. A reference to some of what will be offered at the reception.

𝐷𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡 —

The official date of the event is Saturday, October 28th at 5pm.

Location is a mountain in Bighorn Hills overlooking the forest.

No excluded colors. Brides will be wearing burnt orange and maroon. Feel free to wear any color and outfit that brings you joy. There will be locations to change prior to the reception.

The reception playlist will include a first dance song of Hanging by a Moment cover by Stillman and a variety of slow songs, absolute bangers, and of course, Taylor Swift.

The reception will be an open bar complete with two signature cocktails for the night; The Zepp (a sour patch kid flavored sour and sweet mixture) and a Baton Rouge (including sweet vermouth, gold rum, and cognac).

Flash tattoos will be covered by the brides and absolutely free for the guests.

A brunch will be held the following day for guests at Amelie's.

Any questions can be directed toward @emelinecormier or @verdadurmaz.

[rebelbyrdie]

2024 Ficlet Day

Ficlet 6 (Part 1)

A Criminal Minds/OUAT AU Crossover that Nobody Ever Asked For. This isn't really a ficlet. It is an infinished story. No editing either. It is based off of Criminal Minds Episode 6x17 Valhalla.

This Isn't a Fairy Tale (Part 1)

Episode 1: Meet Cute

""Inside each of us is a monster; inside each of us is a saint. The real question is which one we nurture the most, which one will smite the other"

Jodi Picoult

Storybrooke wasn’t a bustling burg.  It was barely a village.  They were too far out-of-the-way for tourists.  They were too small to attract big chain stores or industry.  There were only three stop lights and if you blinked, you’d miss them. Most of the people worked on the fishing boats, the cannery, or on the area’s many farms.  They were salt-of-the-earth Mainers used to working hard and making due  Everyone knew everyone and helped when they can.  The chamber of commerce said that Storybrooke was a fairytale gem hidden in the forests of Maine.

There had never been explosions, shoot outs, kidnappings, and murder in fairy tales.  At least not the ones Disney made into movies.

David, a farmer’s kid turned cop, was in way over his head and he knew it. He was the town Sheriff, but only because no one else wanted to be.  It was a tedious and thankless job.  The hours were long, the pay was low, and the mayor was a pain in his ass.  

There was no mafia, gangs, or evil doers in Storybrooke.  There were drunk drivers, graffitti, petty theft, and people who thought they would get away with growing pot in their backyard.  

Usually, he would ask his deputy for help.  Emma had been a bounty hunter and had worked in cities like Boston and New York.  She’d dealt with criminals with a capital C all the time.  He wasn’t sure why she’d decided to come to Storybrooke, but was grateful for her.  She was his co-worker, best friend, and practically the sister he’d never had.  She was missing.  She’d been taken in a hail of gunshots, flash grenades and molotov cocktails.  

Emma was gone, and he wouldn’t rest until he got her back.

“Tell me where she is.”

David leaned his hands on the table.  He was exhausted, exasperated, and terrified.  

“I won’t ask you again.”

This guy, who said he was an agent but wouldn’t show ID, had rolled into town right before everything had literally exploded.  Emma had been tight lipped about her relationship with him.  He was David’s one and only lead.  He was the key to saving Emma.

“You don’t know what you’re asking, Sheriff.”

The man, dressed in a suit that was worth more than David’s truck, stared at him with a gleam in his eye. His smarmy, condescending tone set David’s teeth on edge.

“Look. Emma is in danger and no one is telling me jack.  I don’t know what she did before, and I don’t care.”

He’d called the numbers she’d listed on her resume and they were all disconnected.  Some of the addresses she’d given didn’t even exist. Seen more than a simple bail bonds enforcer.  He really didn’t care.  Didn’t care about her past, or her lies.  She was still Emma.  

“She has a life here and now.  A job, friends, and family.  How do you even know her?  Why did you bring all this insanity to my town?!”

The other man sighed and shook his head.  His long hair fell over his face to shadow his eyes.  There was something ominous about him, something wrong.  David didn’t trust him.

“You are charming, Sheriff Nolan, but a little slow.”  

Robert Gold, if that was his real name and David doubted it, folded his hands on the head of his cane.  The man had a little limp, but David wasn’t sure if it was real or not.  He wasn’t sure anything was real right now.

“Emma worked for me.  She was plucked out of Boston’s reprehensible social services system at seventeen.  She was brash, bold, arrogant, and she wanted to do good.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across the man’s face.  

“The Agency, all agencies really, likes to find them young, hungry, and malleable.  Emma is smart, resourceful and she has instincts that border on magical.”

Gold shook his head again, like he was amused.  “She called it her superpower.”

David knew about Emma’s super power.  She could always tell when someone was lying, every time.  Big lies, small lies, white lies.  She always knew.  He also knew about her childhood.  She’d  bounced around between group homes and orphanages all over Massachusets.  She didn’t like to talk about it a lot.

“What she doesn’t mention is that she is also the best damn liar I’ve ever seen.  She could con a man in the desert out of his last drop of water and he’d thank her for it.”

Gold’s Scottish accent (at least David thought it was) made his words, as unnerving as they were sound almost pleasant.  

David wasn’t some Ivy Leaguer or even a fancy agent, but he wasn’t an idiot. The pieces started to fall into place.  Emma’s story was a cover.  She’d been an agent or operative or spy.  Now whatever shady things she’d done in the past were back to haunt her.  Back to kill her.

“We were a small team collected from everywhere.  MI6, Mossad, DGSE, BND, NIS, CIA.  You get the picture.”

David didn’t even recognize some of the alphabet agencies Gold named off, but got the gist of it.  Emma had been rubbing shoulders with James Bond and Co.

“We profiled, infiltrated and took down criminal networks.  Organized Crime, Terrorist Cells, Financial Schemes.  They called it Operation Fairy Tale.”  

Gold sighed.  “Stupid name really. None of us got happily ever after. Even during our best days and our best cases we were all on borrowed time.”

[apricushome24]

Luxurious Collection of Stylish Trays & Platters

Add a touch of elegance and sophistication to your home with our luxurious collection of stylish trays and platters. Perfect for entertaining guests or simply enhancing your décor, these exquisite pieces blend functionality with stunning design. Here’s why our collection stands out and how you can incorporate these beautiful items into your home.

The Allure of Luxurious Trays & Platters

Premium Materials: Our trays and platters are crafted from the finest materials, including polished marble, sleek metal, and rich wood. These high-quality materials not only ensure durability but also add a touch of opulence to your serving ware.

Elegant Designs: From minimalist modern to intricately detailed, our collection features a variety of designs to suit any taste. Whether you prefer clean lines or ornate patterns, you’ll find the perfect piece to match your style.

Versatility: These trays and platters are incredibly versatile, serving multiple purposes beyond just food presentation. Use them as decorative centerpieces, organizational tools, or even as stylish bases for your favorite home accessories.

Top Picks from Our Collection

Marble Cheese Platter: Nothing says luxury like marble. Our marble cheese platters are perfect for presenting an array of cheeses, fruits, and charcuterie. The natural coolness of the marble keeps your selections fresh while adding a touch of sophistication to your spread.

Gold-Rimmed Serving Tray: For those who love a bit of glamour, our gold-rimmed serving trays are a must-have. Ideal for serving cocktails, hors d’oeuvres, or desserts, these trays make every occasion feel special. The gleaming gold accents catch the light beautifully, creating an eye-catching display.

Wooden Breakfast Tray: Start your day in style with our wooden breakfast trays. Made from rich, sustainable wood, these trays are perfect for serving breakfast in bed or as a decorative piece on your coffee table. The natural grain of the wood adds warmth and a rustic charm to any setting.

Mirror Glass Platter: Our mirror glass platters bring a modern, sleek touch to your entertaining. The reflective surface adds a sense of depth and elegance, making it perfect for showcasing delicate pastries, sushi, or elegant hors d'oeuvres.

Artisanal Hand-Painted Tray: For a truly unique touch, our artisanal hand-painted trays stand out. Each tray is a work of art, featuring intricate designs and vibrant colors. These trays are not just functional pieces but also serve as beautiful decorative items.

How to Style Your Trays & Platters

Dining Room: Use a large platter as a centerpiece for your dining table. Adorn it with candles, flowers, or seasonal decorations to create an inviting atmosphere for your guests.

Living Room: Place a stylish tray on your coffee table to organize books, remote controls, and decorative items. It keeps your space tidy while adding a chic touch.

Kitchen: Keep your kitchen counter clutter-free by using a tray to hold oils, spices, and cooking utensils. A beautiful tray can turn everyday items into a decorative focal point.

Bedroom: A wooden breakfast tray is perfect for a cozy morning in bed. Pair it with your favorite mug, a book, and a small vase of fresh flowers for a luxurious start to your day.

Outdoor Spaces: Elevate your outdoor entertaining with a tray for serving drinks and snacks. Choose materials like metal or wood that can withstand the elements and add a stylish touch to your patio or garden gatherings.

Conclusion

Our luxurious collection of stylish trays and platters offers the perfect blend of functionality and elegance. Whether you’re hosting a lavish dinner party or simply looking to enhance your home decor, these pieces will add a touch of sophistication to any setting.

[authentictravelconnections]

Unforgettable Romance: Exploring the Best Couple Tour Packages to Jamaica and Hawaii

Whether you're newlyweds looking for a dreamy honeymoon or a couple celebrating a special anniversary, Jamaica and Hawaii offer some of the world's most romantic couple tour packages and all inclusive travel packages. With stunning natural scenery, luxurious resorts, exciting activities, and rich culture, these two gorgeous island destinations promise to bring you closer together and create lifelong memories. In this blog, we'll highlight some of the best deals and trip ideas for couples wanting to get away to Jamaica or Hawaii.

Jamaica: Reggae Rhythms and Tropical Tranquility  

Known for its laidback vibes, flavorful jerk cuisine, and sandy stretches of beach, Jamaica has long been a favorite tropical locale for enamored duos. Today, countless couple tour packages to Jamaica with resorts cater to lovebirds with amenities like overwater bungalows, private beach dinners, couple massages, and sunset catamaran cruises. Whether you're looking for an active, adventurous trip or pure relaxation, Jamaica delivers.

Some top trip ideas and package deals for couples include:

Negril beachfront all inclusive hotels with benefits such as Champagne breakfasts in bed and cocktail mixing classes held outside while breathing in the fresh ocean air as a hint for the spa treatments for two. Generally, the greater community in the area offers free wedding packages and vow renewals to veterans and their spouses.

Luxurious vacations of the mountains of Ocho Rios, where one can have private infinity pools, secluded villas, and scenic attractions like Dunn's River Falls, are not only fun but also a memorable experience. As with a spa treatment and a personal yoga class, completing the zen vibe.

Jamaica follows wellness trends having concrete, nature, yoga, and clean eating retreats. All of them center around the two main partners either enjoying a meditative experience together or going through art therapy, counseling services, and communication games.

Guests taking a well-rounded day hike will have the choice of the romantic coffee plantation inn or bungalows as a stay. Chose to get immersed more in rum, coffee tasting and authentic Land Rover adventure tours.

Hawaii: The Epitome of American Paradise

With its postcard-worthy beaches, volcanic peaks, luxe resorts, and vibrant aloha culture, Hawaii sets the gold standard for American tropical getaways. Luckily for lovebirds, Hawaii also offers endless couple tour packages catering to every interest, budget, and personality - from surfers to honeymooners. 

Top Hawaii couple trip ideas include:

A classic multi-island honeymoon package to Hawaii, hitting highlights like Waikiki, Pearl Harbor, the Road to Hana, Volcano National Park, and the island of Kauai. Most offer newlywed extras like champagne, massages, and private excursions.

Luxury wellness retreats on the peaceful island of Lanai, with health-focused amenities like guided meditation, yoga by the sea, spa treatments for two, and farm-to-table dining. Reconnect with nature and each other as you unplug completely.

Beachfront condo rentals on Maui with full kitchens and amenities for independent couples wanting a home base for exploring the island's treasures like Haleakala, the Road to Hana, and snorkeling Molokini crater.  

A surf camp getaway on Oahu's famed North Shore, where you'll take lessons together, enjoy sunsets by the sea, and soak up the vibrant surf culture alongside world-class waves and beaches.

Tips for Booking the Ultimate Couple's Getaway 

The one venom is the one that can spell the success of a couple's romantic getaway or the one poison that can break it. Here are some tips for picking the perfect escape: 

It is wise to know what your must-haves and deal breakers are from the beginning - If seeing something new and exciting is what you want or you prefer a relaxed atmosphere. Do you care more about whether you stay in cozy little boutique hotels or big splashy resorts? This will allow you to limit your choices to breeds compatible with your circumstances.

You have an easy tool on hand, comparison shopping! - Thus, don’t book the first package you see. Use websites like TripAdvisor to review deals and discover special offers. From learner to learner: Engaging with fellow language learners through platforms such as community chat groups, online forums, or language exchange apps can not only provide emotional support but also practical feedback and motivation.

One very important element to consider when comparing package pricing is airfare and transportation costs.

Be sure to get into the fine prints into exactly what they're offering - some deals may sound like they are giving so much that they are malicious and often don't include taxes, fees, tips or certain activities.

Travel insurance would be a good idea, even for more peace of mind, especially during the storm.

Go for containment systems that offer adaptation with optional variations in case the initial plan does not work.

Whether you select beachside or retreat in the middle of the forest, Jamaica and Hawaii will take your relationship to the next level and bring the two of you closer. As your relationship develops, the memories and experiences are certain to last a lifetime! Instead of staying at home, choose our vacation journeys to extraordinary places and escape the ordinary now. Immediately book your couple's vacation of a lifetime!

[esoutherngolf]

LOHLA SPORT Unveils Bond-Inspired ‘007’ Collection

LOHLA SPORT Unveils Bond-Inspired ‘007’ Autumn-Winter Collection LOHLA SPORT's latest collection for the autumn-winter season is the premium "007" line, showcasing stylish and feminine golf-lifestyle apparel. The collection draws inspiration from the classic aesthetic of Bond movies and features daring, flattering, and alluring looks for the modern woman. The 007 capsules boast chic and elegant European designs infused with a touch of feminine charm from Los Angeles. They consist of matching tops, bottoms, skorts, outerwear, and accessories. Available in sizes XXS to XXL, the refined cuts flatter the figure without being overly provocative. We meticulously source high-quality fabrics from all over the world to ensure optimal athletic performance. The 007 collection from LOHLA SPORT combines comfort and style, perfect for active play. The brand is leading a significant "Golfleisure" movement, similar to Lululemon's "Athleisure" trend. The 007 capsules, which are named after Bond movies and inspired by Bond Girls, combine stylish fashion with an adventurous lifestyle: - Skyfall – Transitions dramatically from Spring to Fall with bright Flyboy and Aurora colors for awe-inspiring looks.  The Skyfall print is lively and fun while the weather is still warm. - Diamonds are Forever – Plays up the new neutrals taking center stage on the catwalk with the popular Golf Fitness Pull-On Pant in a mocha tone and the debut of The Bond Girl Jacket in a rich Fall hue that is cozy on the course and helps fight off assassins. - For Your Eyes Only – Fuses the color of the season, fuscia – “lipstick” in LOHLA SPORT parlance – and cocktail orange with black and white bases for a dramatic entry to Fall. - Casino Royale – Takes the brand’s classic red, white and navy group on turn for the Nordic as Alpine ski inspirations abound in All-American coloring.  Seize the day on the course (or perhaps gaming at the tables) with two printed skorts or pair them with tights and boots for winter. - Golden Eye – Details white and peacock (dark teal) outfits with rich, gold trims, perfect for being the Bond-like hero or villainess during group rounds of golf this Fall and pre-holiday. Lisa O'Hurley, the founder and CEO of LOHLA SPORT, created the 007 collection as a tribute to her rounds of golf with Sean Connery, the actor who played James Bond in six films between 1962 to 1973. "He was dashing in every way," she says. "It was 100 percent fun, and from that day I knew I'd create a refined Bond-esque collection for women who love classy-meets-sporty looks." "Our 007 designs pack star power yet are timeless," she says. "There's a bit of devilish flirtation in every piece to reimagine you in true Bond Girl style on and off the golf course." Complementing 007 capsules and worn stand-alone are popular, year-round core products, including: - The Golf Fitness Pull-On Pant – Worn stand-alone (akin to a workout tight) or under skorts in the fall for added warmth and décor, it is purposely thicker, becoming the ideal golf-yoga pant.  Back pockets make it country club appropriate. - The “Very Pant” – The four-pocket, full, four-way stretch pant is offered in several colors, including core colors of navy, black, white, red and other Fall favorites.  The J. Peterman character in the TV hit “Seinfeld” inspired it, indicating specificity of the surreal or sublime. The famous line “The Very Pant I’ve been searching for all my life” is part of sitcom lore. LOHLA SPORT can be found in over 250 high-quality golf shops and women's boutiques. In addition, ESPN, Forbes, GOLF Magazine, Golfweek, NBC Sports, and other notable publications have given praise to the brand for its innovative designs created by O'Hurley and Paul Rees, a renowned designer formerly from Burberry and Aquascutum. Annika Sorenstam, the legendary golfer, exclusively wears LOHLA SPORT. For more information: www.lohlasport.com Read the full article