#and my friends walked me to and from my car

[lauraneedstochill]

can’t pretend

pairing: Jack Abbot x resident!reader summary: He is puzzled with you first, then vexed, and he can’t understand his feelings. In an attempt to get to know you better (or maybe to get you out of his head), Abbot accidentally crosses the line. (or, alternatively: what if Jack met someone similar to him in many ways. traumatic past included)

warnings: <rivals> to friends to lovers, slow burn, mentions of blood and injuries / I’m hinting at the age gap but you can ignore it / some complicated feelings and a LOT of Jack’s thoughts (his poor therapist will need a raise); assault. ANGST. / words: 7K author’s note: this is my first fic for “The Pitt”. I binge-watched the show in 2 days and didn’t plan on writing anything but my inspiration decided otherwise. I’ve never had a beta reader in my life, please be kind. ♡

Early at dawn, the sky is just the right color — the darkness slowly dissipates, deep purple at the edges, black fading into blue. If he squints and looks above the roofs, he can pretend he’s looking at the ocean. He’s been toying with the idea for some time but it’s more of a dream, a comforting mirage: him getting a small house by the beach, waves crashing softly in the distance, clean blue water blending into the bright blue sky. He’d wake up to the sunrise, take lugs full of cooling salty air, walk in the sand that glistens under the foaming swash. He’d probably adopt a dog — someone to pass his days with, just so the silence doesn’t get too heavy, doesn’t weigh on him when he can’t sleep at night.

A passing car honks down the street, loud and sudden, and Jack flinches, opening his eyes. That’s when the perfect image always falls apart. He is afraid he will get lonely with just a dog and with nothing to do, he will be going up the walls, bored out of his mind. But he doesn’t know how not to be alone. And some days he wishes that he did.

The air in Pittsburgh doesn’t carry any scents at this morning hour, and Jack’s gaze wanders down to the tree leaves writhing in the wind. He absentmindedly rubs his wrists when he hears the door creaking behind him.

“You know, security is getting worried about you,” Robby chuckles, his steps slow. “I heard the guys making bets on how many times a week you’ll come here.”

“Says the man who likes to brood in my spot,” Jack huffs without looking at him.

“Me, brooding? No idea what you are talking about.”

Robby gets to the roof edge but stays behind the railing, leans on it and slowly stretches his arms. His tone lets empathy in when he speaks up:

“Tough night?”

The sky is overcast, a mush of white and grey clouds the blue barely peeks through, and Jack sighs as he turns away. “Remember you told me about the kid who OD’d on Xanax laced with fentanyl? The parents sat by his bed hoping he’d wake up by some miracle,” Robby only nods when Jack throws him a glance. “I’m dealing with one of those.”

They both lost patients before, and both know that it doesn’t get easier with time. You have to tuck your grief away to walk into the room with their loved ones, offer apologies that carry little meaning, take even more grief in because this isn’t about you and this loss is not for you to carry. But they do carry it — Robby memorizes lifeless faces, Jack never forgets the names of everyone he couldn’t save.

“Brain dead?”

“Yep,” Jack drawls, hands gripping the metal rails. “He’s got three sisters, and all three were begging me. And I stood there feeling absolutely useless.”

Robby watches as his friend’s knuckles turn white. “If you couldn’t do anything then there was nothing that could’ve been done. And I’m really sorry.”

If only words could bring people back from the dead, Jack thinks bitterly but doesn’t say it out loud. He doesn’t want to sour Robby’s mood. And he can’t help but notice — it used to bother him way more, it sometimes would eat him alive; now Jack is mostly numb.

“I’ll sleep it off,” he mumbles.

“Not staying for the welcoming party?”

It takes a few seconds for the reminder to pop up in Jack’s head: a new senior resident, today is her first day. After Collins took maternity leave, Robby spent hours on the phone, glasses pressed to the bridge of his nose as he flipped through the applications, always unsure, never satisfied. And then he got a call and drove across the city to another hospital to meet her in person — he came back beaming. Jack must’ve zoned out so he didn’t catch the details.

“Don’t think I have a very welcoming face.”

“Should’ve seen the guys she worked with. I thought her chief of surgery would literally fist-fight me after I offered her the job,” Robby cackles.

It stirs Jack’s curiosity a bit. “She’s that good?”

“I believe she is. Skilled, confident, haven’t heard a single bad thing about her,” and even though his voice is certain, Robby dithers, bringing a hand to the back of his neck.

“But... ? I sense a but coming.”

“No-no, she’s great, really, and I made up my mind. It’s just that… She comes off as quite stubborn, and I feel like she is used to flying solo,” his eyes dart to Jack. “Reminds me of someone I know,” a smile grazes his lips, an unvoiced comparison he can’t help but draw.

Jack doesn’t see it, his gaze set somewhere on the horizon. “We all have to be team players here, that’s how it works,” he says dismissively. “I’m sure she’ll learn.”

The streets are getting busy, filling with people talking, rushing, making endless calls — and with more honking and more sounds that all merge into one unpleasant noise. And Jack is getting really tired.

“I should go back. Don’t want anyone to scare her off,” Robby puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder, a friendly but firm grip. “I’d also rather not waste my time on scraping your frail body off the pavement. Let me walk you out.”

“Frail body? You are three years older, you bag of bones,” Jack quips, and they share a laugh, and it warms up his heart a little.

But the warmth fades as they get inside, into the weave of corridors, into the crowd of nurses and other doctors pacing, the lighting bright and harsh, the smell of antiseptics clinging to the walls like mold. And it is not as overwhelming as it’s tiresome; once he is out on the street, Jack takes a few deep breaths. It’s hardly a relief.

As he passes by the park, exhaustion already on his heels, he suddenly picks up a sound, something between a whine and a small woof. Jack looks around to find the source peeping out from behind the bushes — brown eyes, wet nose, grey fluffy ears, one marked with a white spot. When Jack takes a step closer, the stray puppy immediately runs off.

On his way home he gets some dog treats and throws them in his bag. He tries thinking of pet names but nothing comes to mind. And when he falls into his cold bed, thick curtains not letting any light reach him, he dreams of standing on a long road framed with grass, a murmuring of waves heard through the mist. But he can’t see the ocean.

It keeps raining, and they have to close the roof — “Merely a precaution, sir, we don’t want anyone to slip. I heard the weather is supposed to clear up in a few days,” one of the guards assures Jack. His mood these days is just as gloomy as the sky. But he’s a man of habit, so every time Jack wants to get out to the roof, he instead gets more cases, drinks more coffee, barely a few words squeezed in between that aren’t work-related.

At first, he only catches glimpses of you.

On the days when your shifts overlap, he sees you tearing along the hallways, your hair up and your face focused, removing gowns to quickly put on fresh ones, your hands either in gloves or carrying the charts. You don’t speak much, and very few times Jack gets to walk past you, he is slightly puzzled by this combination of quiet and fast-paced.

Your first week is nearing its end when Dana prompts Jack to make a proper introduction. She calls him uncooperative and calls for you herself when she sees you leaving trauma#1. You swiftly come by the nurses' station and glance up at the board — and then you finally face Jack, your gaze so piercing, it catches him off guard. He clears his throat and manages a greeting, a bit coolly.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Abbot,” you tell him calmly, offering a hand. And you don’t look away, and your handshake is firmer than he would expect. The next thing you are holding is another chart, eyes following the lines of words and numbers as you step away, Whitaker barely keeping up.

“She is so fast, she’s almost flying. Beautiful,” Princess notes approvingly, and Perlah hums in agreement.

Their voices snap him back into reality, and Jack inhales sharply, only now realizing his gaze is still on you. He looks down, pretending he needs to fix his watch. “What is this, a fan club?”

“Aw, no need to be so jealous. You will always be our favorite old white doctor,” Princess teases.

Perlah gives her a side-eye. “I thought Dr. Robby was our favorite.”

“Well, yes. But I have a soft spot for men in existential crisis,” Princess winks at him.

Perlah rolls her eyes. “They are all in existential crisis.”

“And I wonder why,” Jack deadpans, then picks a case just so he’s got an excuse to leave. And maybe an excuse to pass by the room you’re in, your gloved hands already stained with crimson.

He starts watching you more often, an impulse he can’t necessarily explain.

He’s careful, he’s not staring, but his hazel eyes always pick you out from the crowd. He’s taking mental notes: you lean on doors with your right shoulder when you rush in, you scan the injured head to toe in every case, hands moving quickly in tandem with your gaze. You never raise your voice but you keep eye contact — with the interns when you give instructions and with the patients to make sure they understand what’s going on. You are efficient with your work-ups, you’re the first one to come in and you stay late to turn your patients over to the night shift. You are meticulous and disciplined in a way he finds relatable; in three weeks' time there’s a foundation laid for him to grow respectful. But sometimes Jack can’t stop the thought: he is yet to see your smile. He is also yet to see you slip up, and that is bound to happen because no doctor is without fault.

A month in, he thinks you finally come close to failure.

A patient is wheeled in on a gurney, gesticulating, red in the face from how displeased or pained he is (probably both); still, as you talk to him, he makes pauses to listen. There’s blood on his chest and his speech is slurring, and Jack’s gaze follows you. From where he’s standing, he can see you clearly, so he can’t help but glance up a few times from his computer screen. It’s all the same routine and it seems to be working smoothly — but when he takes another peek, he sees you frozen.

Jack instantly draws near, alert and observing through the glass: the man is intubated, his shirt cut and chest bared — and with a nail sticking right out of where his heart should be. The monitors go off as the blood pressure drops. When Whitaker makes eye contact with him, Jack takes that as an invitation to come in.

“What do we got here?”

Whitaker looks half worried, half relieved. “Um-m, 41 years old male, nail to the chest, intracardiac. Prepped for the thoracotomy. Cardio is tied up with another surgery, and it’s at least 15 more minutes until we can get an O.R.”

Jack knows the patient doesn’t have that long. His gaze flickers to you but you do not meet it, and he can’t tell what you are looking at. There is no time to guess — if you’ve never cracked into someone’s chest, he’ll gladly guide you. And his guidance is assertive, if a little cocky.

“It’s not every day that you get to do a thoracotomy. And it can be daunting — also, pretty risky if you ask me—”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking,” you retort abruptly without even sparing him a glance.

And then you pick the scalpel and make the first incision, your hands steady and never hesitating, the confidence of a tsunami sweeping rocks away.

Jack has to take a step back because it would be childish to argue when someone’s life is hanging by a thread. And all his doubts are crushed before his very eyes the way ribs are under the pressure of a steel retractor you are holding, the metal sinking into flesh and blood to give you access to the heart. After the nail is out — long but intact, you deal with excess fluid and with the bleeding — and you are more nimble than he is, than he’s ever seen the other doctors be.

“Well, call me impressed,” Jack says earnestly.

The silence is a little awkward — a couple of seconds before you give reply: “Thank you, Dr. Abbot.”

He wonders if maybe his compliment might’ve come as patronizing. What he knows for sure is that you do not need his help. But when he backs away, he sees a glint out of the corner of his eye — dog tags left in the pile of the man’s belongings on the floor. Jack has the same tags hanging on a chain around his neck. He almost doesn’t feel the weight of them but the memories they bring are heavy — sometimes an image flashing through his mind, sometimes a nightmare stirring him awake. And mostly it’s the latter.

But today, as his shift goes on, he isn’t thinking of torn limbs and collapsing buildings and bombings that looked like firecrackers in the night. Those weren’t the reasons he kept going back — he never once craved violence, never really cared about the money. For him, it was the roar of the adrenaline and the belief that even amidst the death and ruins, he could make a change. He hasn’t felt that for a while: the rush, the determination, the power held in your hands when you are cutting into someone’s body, fixing the organs and sewing the skin together, bringing the life back in. He lacks that spark, he misses it, he wants to get it back. To prove to himself that he still can do that — or maybe not only to himself.

So now he isn’t watching you but studying, with a diligence of a man who once had to learn how to walk again.

He starts work earlier just so he can get more patients — but also to listen in on your case reports and trail your steps, peek into trauma rooms you run in and out of. He often finds himself holding back the questions: damn, how did you do that? How come you easily catch things others take so long to figure out? You take on complicated cases: a feeble woman who can’t hold her food down, her arms marked with a red rash; a young jogger who keeps fainting, short of breath; a man whose neck hurts, the pain radiating to his chest. And you examine them and pick the clues to solve the tangle of the symptoms — it’s Celiac disease, it’s kidney failure, it’s spondylodiscitis and you know exactly how to treat it. But Jack knows all these answers too. And even if they don’t click in his mind as quickly as they do in yours, it’s still a victory: he’s not as rusty as he thought he was, he is enjoying this. He can’t believe he almost let himself forget.

When he decides to try a day shift for a change, he’s met with Dana’s worried face, her wondering out loud if he feels okay. She then proceeds to ask the same question two more times, just to make sure.

“You on day shifts may be the thing that saves Robby from a heart attack, you know,” her face softens.

“Are you saying you guys get way more action than us night owls?”

Dana grins. “What, you are already reconsidering your choices?”

“Like hell I am,” one corner of his mouth hints at a smirk.

The day is busy, and he can barely catch a break, but it isn’t a chore: he’s equally enthusiastic about a road accident that left a guy with a skull fracture, an appendectomy, a stoned teenage with a knife stuck in his thigh, a street worker with a leg broken in two places. An hour before his shift ends, they get a lacrosse team of middle schoolers, and the staff shares an exasperated sigh; but not Jack. He fixes broken noses and split eyebrows and some nasty shoulder dislocations, then goes to talk to their coach — a woman in her fifties, robust and perhaps too loud with her scolding. But her blaring voice cracks as soon as the kids are out of her sight. At some point, Jack finds himself holding her hand in reassurance, and she jokes that she’d gladly marry him if only she didn’t have a wife. She also promises that all the kids' parents will give the hospital the highest ranking. And they do.

Jack clocks out when the sky is colored orange, the shadows bleeding on the pavement, and his limbs hum but this weariness is pleasant. He is content, he’s almost joyous — the almost comes from you having a day off. He got to work with so many people, why would your presence make a difference? Jack persuades himself it’s not the reason he takes a few more mornings.

But when he comes back the next time, and you’re already there, there is this weird feeling in his ribcage — a spill of heat, a flutter of his heart. He blames it on the caffeine. You stand with your eyes glued to the chart while Princess lets out a big yawn.

“If another lacrosse team comes in today, I might actually quit,” she laments.

“Send them my way,” you say with ease, without missing a beat.

“That’s ten people,” she punctuates, incredulous. “We got lucky they were just kids. Grown-up men who slam into each other while voluntarily chasing a ball scare me.”

“I’m not easily scared,” you carefully tap on the screen, scrolling through some case report, someone’s illnesses broken into signs and terms; but you do pay attention to what she’s saying. You glance up at the nurse, your voice kind: “If you ever need help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

And then you look over your shoulder as if you can feel him watching — and it’s the same as the first time: your gaze startles him, like would a fire eruption or a ball lightning. But Jack’s greeting stays rooted in his mouth because Mateo sprints in:

“Hey, there’s something wrong with my patient’s veins, can someone take a look?”

And you are by his side and following him out of the hall in what feels like barely a second.

“I’m so grateful for you!” Princess calls after you. Then she spots Jack too, her face expression turning smug. “Oh, hello there, boss,” and she grins like she knows a secret Jack wasn’t let in on.

Turns out, Robby showed his gratitude by taking a sick leave, the first in three years (Jack would’ve sent him home himself if he heard Robby’s muffled coughing one more time). And it left Jack with way more shifts to cover. He readily gulps coffee from his to-go mug as he skims through the list of patients. The others join him soon: Mel smiles at everyone, the ever-optimistic one, Whitaker looks like hasn’t slept in months, and Santos teases him about something Jack doesn’t care to listen to. McKay is running late. Langton walks briskly to the nurses' station, taps on the tabletop right next to Jack.

“Ready to get back in the game?”

“I’ve been in the game for more years than you can count on your fingers,” Jack gives him a cold stare.

Frank sighs, his fingers drumming on the wooden surface, although he sounds barely concerned. “Love the positive attitude. Dr Robby surely won’t be missed.”

“As if you are such a pleasure to work with,” Dana cuts in, hands on her hips. “You guys should redirect that buzzing testosterone into your work. No one is getting paid for whining.”

“Preach,” Jack huffs as he steps away.

He stops himself from immediately going to check up on you. And twenty minutes later, he is glad that he did — you walk back, unruffled as you always are, Matteo tagging after you. His patient is an old lady with thrombocytopenia she probably ignored until it got too bad: there are bruises sprinkled on her arms and legs, a splotch of dried blood under her nose from how often it’s been bleeding. You gave her a platelet transfusion but you suspect it’s cancer; you order more blood tests and bring her a blanket before she even asks for it. Her eyes well up, voice shaking with heartfelt gratitude. And Jack has to remind himself that he can’t pick any favorites, he isn’t in it for the long run; but if he was to pick, it would’ve been an easy choice. And no one lags behind today — he’s got a well-coordinated team, like gears interlocking in a clock, the harmony built out of weeks of practice. They make jokes, share work stories and snacks; but every time Jack’s eyes get back to you, he can’t catch even a ghost of a smile.

He finds that you are very hard to read. And it unnerves him, maybe just a little.

He tries for his attempts to look brief and nonchalant — a kind word here and there, a quick approving look, a dry joke — and you offer nothing in return. As thorough as you are with diagnosing, you take no part in other conversations, you rarely take breaks or stand around. By the time the noon rolls in, Jack is fighting the urge to grab you by the shoulders: hey, take a seat and have something to eat. And tell me how can I cadge a laugh out of you, just one will be enough.

Dana waves a hand before his face, the phone up to her ear. “There’s been some gang fight at the North Side. Four victims coming in, two critical — one shot in the stomach, the other has his head smashed in. Don’t think they both will make it.”

Jack’s bet is on the first guy but it’s the head injury that’s fatal — the victim is pronounced dead, face so disfigured they’ll need a DNA test. Mel looks away in shock, and Santos frowns. Your stare is blank and unimpressed. You volunteer to take the third guy with a pelvic wound — he’s rambling incoherently, the tight bandage over his hip already soaked; you press your hand to it on the way to trauma. Jack leaves the worst case to himself.

“Who’s down for an ex-lap?”

“Can I run the bowel? I’ve never done it,” Santos asks, hopeful.

“Sure. Once we open the abdomen and remove the bullet, you can have your fun,” he offers, and she runs along with joy.

Although Jack can’t imagine a procedure less joyful. Yet, he is fueled by his new-found appreciation for his job so he walks her through the steps: identify the entry wound and cut in, look for the bleeding and what the bullet might’ve hit. It missed the liver by an inch; but to confirm the damage they need to evaluate the area by hand.

Perlah peeks into the room. “Is he stable?”

“Well, unless Dr. Santos gets too excited and makes a bow out of his intestines,” her hands stop, and Jack breathes out a chuckle. “I’m just joking, keep going. I’d say, his vitals do look promising.”

“Then you can keep him down here for a bit. We have a guy with a balloon in his aorta, he’s gotta go up first.”

Jack blinks at her once, twice, the meaning of her words settling in. “Did someone do a REBOA?”

“You bet she did. And it was awesome,” the nurse then scrunches her nose. “Apart from the amount of blood. And by the way, the fourth one only has a broken rib, so no miraculous procedures needed.”

He doesn’t find it funny and he can’t find the word for it: it’s something in between confusion and offence. As soon as Santos’s done with stitches, he strides out to find you.

His turmoil momentarily recedes when he sees one of the cubicle curtains stained, the deep red lurking through. Jack pulls at the material and barges in — and then he’s silenced at the sight. The area looks horrifying: bright streaks of blood left on the floor, the anesthesia trolley, the table with the instruments that you are now collecting, a few droplets smudged over your cheek. Before he’s even angry, there is another feeling — a thought, a pull: if only he could brush that splatter off your face, a few brief seconds for one briefest touch. Of course, he doesn’t.

Jack keeps his hands behind his back. “You didn’t think you should consult with anyone first before doing a damn REBOA?”

“Why would I?” your eyes are on the tools.

“Because it’s dangerous as hell and since I am the attending—”

“I do know protocol. But I also know how fast a human can bleed out. It was a truncal hemorrhage, and you were hands deep in someone’s abdomen. Was I supposed to wait?”

He wishes you were meaner, rougher, anything that would give him an excuse to snap. But you aren’t doing this to show off — your tone is measured and your reasoning is simple: a man was dying and you knew how to save him. Jack realizes it is the same logic he often uses. And he can’t tell what is it that bothers him so much. If Whitaker pulled off something like that, Jack would’ve chosen to commend him. The same goes for Santos, Javadi or King, for any other intern or resident that he can think of... Except, they would’ve asked for his opinion or his help. You didn’t even think to.

Well, Robby warned him you’d be stubborn.

“I want to be informed about any life-altering decisions. At least give me a heads-up so I am not blindsided when a nurse gushes over it in passing,” Jack insists, head tilted slightly so he can catch your gaze.

What he really wants is for you to look at him. You grant him that one wish.

“Will do,” you tell him simply.

But your eyes are still unreadable, a book written in a foreign language, a manuscript he doesn’t know how to decrypt.

And either out of incomprehension or rejection, his brain makes an assumption: maybe you believe that you are better, maybe you think the rules weren’t made for you. You never really gave him cause for rivalry — you are in your final year of residency, and Jack is put in charge. But you are so bluntly independent and reserved, his every try to understand you feels like leaping in the dark. Later that day he can’t help but glimpse into your file — there’s hardly anything of interest: you previously trained in a small clinic, in a nice neighborhood, your letters of recommendation all consist of praises.

What adds to his moroseness is that you fit really well with literally everybody else. Langdon tones down his sarcasm, listens to you like he only does to Robby. Santos discreetly brings you cases she needs advice on, McKay and Mel enjoy your company when you get a free minute. Whitaker seems to be your favorite although Jack isn’t sure why — he deems him soft and insecure; but Dennis does a better job under your guidance. On rare occasions when he’s got a day off, Javadi always takes his place.

Jack figures out everyone’s relationships by his fourth morning shift; he hasn’t gotten any closer to figuring you out. He’s fighting the grimace at how bitter his coffee is when Javadi pops out in the hall and you follow suit. He catches scraps of your conversation: something about a teen with a gashed forehead. Javadi rambles — until you ask her nonchalantly, unprompted. “You don’t like the sight of blood?”

“What? Oh no, it’s fine! I’m totally fine,” Victoria stumbles over the words, but her denial is too meek.

From how nervous she is, Jack guesses that she’s lying. He almost wants to laugh — before a thought comes to his mind: how come he never noticed her fear of blood?

“It’s just a little disturbing sometimes... But I only passed out, like, once or twice.”

“I used to be like that. Fainted many times during blood tests,” you tell her quietly while entering some data.

Jack is so caught in disbelief, he can’t help a glance in your direction. But your sincerity doesn’t seem feigned. Javadi gapes at you.

“And how did you... what did you do to overcome it?”

“I found myself in a situation where someone needed help and there was no one else around to help him,” you shrug. And Jack discerns the subtle reticence behind your tone.

It only spurs Javadi’s interest. “Was there a lot of blood? Like, a heavy bleeding, a deep wound?”

Your fingers freeze over the tablet screen, your facial profile not betraying your true feelings. But Jack swears he can see the tension crawling down your body. You don’t give the answer right away, you weigh the words carefully before you say them.

“A drug overdose, he still had a needle in his arm and I must’ve missed it. Took barely a minute of chest compressions for the needle to fly out across the room. It was a lot of blood to me.”

Javadi’s hopefulness grows dim. “Yeah, I don’t like needles too. I tried drawing blood a few times but the process kinda makes me nauseous, and I can’t force myself to —”

“It’s different when it’s someone you care about.”

Your comment slips out involuntarily — and immediately you look like you want to take it back. But you get it together and meet her eyes, your voice carrying just the right amount of firmness.

“Listen, I’m not suggesting you should torture your family members. But you may not always have attendings by your side or someone else to take your place in case you feel like fainting. If you fall, you can hurt your head, you can hurt a patient, you can disrupt a surgery when every minute counts. I think you have a good head on your shoulders, and I don’t want to downplay your efforts. But please, figure it out. Otherwise, you won’t make for a good surgeon.”

You reassure her you won’t tell anyone her secret. Javadi manages a small smile, a hushed “thank you”. It is a sweet moment, a heart-to-heart chat you bond over; it’s also three times more words than you’ve spoken to Jack in weeks.

But he accepts your silence — as a challenge.

Jack keeps an eye on you, now critical, resisting the gravitation that’s been attracting him to you. Although it’s hard to find the reasons to be hard on you. Whenever he has questions — or more so when he can come up with some, you give detailed replies, and he’s left with nothing to complain about. Your patient satisfaction score is high, you are never facile or reckless with your judgment; with how smart you are, you can give odds to many doctors, him included. And Jack knows he is older, with years of experience under his belt — but he can’t in good faith wish for anyone to go through the same things he did to gain the same knowledge.

On his second week of day shifts he is still clueless about what to make of you. And Jack tells himself that he is simply looking for a connection — except, all his attempts look like he is trying to pick a fight.

“This is a teaching hospital. You are supposed to teach them things,” he grumbles as he meets you outside the trauma room. You got a guy who came in spitting blood — post-tonsillectomy hemorrhage, and things went south pretty quickly. He started choking, crashed, his airways flooded with liquid; you had to intubate him blindly. Whitaker spent an hour by your side, his questions endless — to which you did give answers, barely ever breaking focus, but you only allowed him to use suction.

“He’ll learn plenty if he is attentive enough,” you say, throwing away the gown, trying to put some distance in between you.

Jack doesn’t like it, he keeps pace with you. “Whitaker needs more practice, as much as he can get. He’s not supposed to stand there like some deer who wandered into the yard.”

You whirl around, so fast that Jack comes to a stop when you are separated by merely an inch. And your gaze burns, like lava seeping through the mountain’s restrain.

“And I needed the patient not to die on the table,” you bite back, then breathe in — and then add more coolly. “Dennis will get his chance to shine.”

“And when exactly is that gonna happen?”

“That’s for me to decide,” you state, like you would do a fact that can’t be questioned. “Thank you for your input, Dr. Abbot, but I have to get back to work.”

You turn your back to him and leave him standing there, and Jack almost feels helpless. And that’s the feeling he can’t stand. It simmers in him, it must be the reason his cheeks suddenly feel hot.

Dana tsks as she comes near, her brows furrowed and face visibly concerned.

“You know how I’ve been calling Robby a sad boy? I’m gonna start calling you a pissy boy.”

“Not the worst thing I’ve been called,” he dismisses, a humorless escape attempt. But her fingers grab at his elbow, and he pauses with an annoyed exhale.

“I’ve been watching you hammering away at her for days,” Dana makes sure to lower her voice. “If she was a student, I’d maybe let it slide, but she is a resident, a senior one. And nothing I am seeing suggests she isn’t doing well.”

His eyes dart to her hand; then he glares stubbornly at her. She looks unfazed.

“Jack, you will take it too far one day — and you will regret it,” Dana tries to reason. “She is a good kid and she’s really good at her job. Just let her be.”

“Thank you for your input, Evans. I’d prefer to get back to work,” he frees his arm, and she allows it. But Jack can feel her worried gaze as he walks away.

He doesn’t come home until the twilight hugs the sky, until he feels like he’ll pass out on the next step. Jack wastes hours on attempts to wear himself out: he walks the entire park three times, peeping about in case the puppy comes again. It doesn’t. He stops by the bar he hasn’t been to in a few weeks, orders a beer and sips on it, his musings soon drowned out by the blasting music. The alcohol tastes weird, and the bass guitar gives him a pounding headache. He takes a walk instead of taking a bus home, two miles on foot in hopes he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

But the thought of you cuts into his mind as easily as a nail does into a human body, and it stays there, vexing and robbing him of whatever little peace he’s had.

He barely gets any sleep.

And his nights are dreamless.

It’s just another Friday, and these bring in a lot of drunks — from parties and family gatherings, from business meetings that ran late and tense until someone reached for whiskey. Jack stays behind for paperwork, a tedious pastime that keeps him pinned to an uncomfortable chair. He briefly takes eyes off the screen, stretching his neck — and then a noise catches his attention. It’s someone talking in a raised voice, someone who sounds too wasted to be reasoned with. Which sounds like a problem.

Jack finds the source with ease — the nurses all glance in the direction of the trauma room, and in support of their agitation Mateo all but flies out, his face hardened at the edges. Jack gets up and gets closer, his ears open and eyes watchful.

“Should we call security?” Dana asks warily.

Mateo brushes the suggestion off. “No, it’s fine,” — but it sounds like it’s not. “I just need a short break.”

“What’s wrong?” Jack interrupts.

And it isn’t a question but a demand for explanation Mateo can’t reject. He lets out a tired sigh.

“The guy got drunk and couldn’t hold his liquor, some passersby saw him sprawled out in an alley and called the ambulance. Came in with a nasty arm fracture. He’ll live though,” Mateo looks back at the room with obvious disdain. “Unfortunately.”

Jack promptly moves forward. “I will deal with it.”

“Hold on, Rambo,” Dana interjects. And she keeps her eyes on him while she talks to Mateo. “Did he get physical?”

“Nah, he’s too inebriated. Keeps trying to get up from the gurney but mostly he’s all talk.”

More can be heard from where they are standing — it’s some drunken yelling, a disarticulated chain of curse words. And then they hear something break, a dull sound of an object hitting a wall.

In a few seconds comes another one.

“I can’t just let him trash all of our equipment,” Jack gives Dana a pointed look.

She clucks her tongue at his persistence. “It’s not the equipment that I fear for.”

“Rest assured, Evans, I won’t give him another arm fracture.”

“I didn’t think you would, but now that you suggested it so easily—”

“Finally someone decided to take action instead of all this talking,” Perlah remarks, her gaze isn’t on either one of them. And Jack turns to follow it just in time to catch you running right into the room.

His heart falls. Why the hell are you even still here?

And it’s barely three heartbeats before a realization strikes: you can’t go there alone. He can’t let you.

Jack bolts to you without waiting for anyone’s permission. He comes in just in time to see you dodge the trolley the patient pushed at you — it slams into the wall and rolls over, the instruments scattering loudly across the floor. You don’t seem scared, but you are all tensed up, gaze fixed on the guy who’s screaming his lungs out.

“You won’t trick me! I won’t let you experiment on me!”

And you don’t look away once but you must’ve noticed Jack; your voice comes out low. “I think he’s having an episode. He needs benzodiazepines but I can’t get close to administer them.”

“And you should not,” Jack retorts, eyeing the guy with discontent. “You absolutely shouldn’t deal with him on your own. Not when he’s flapping around and yelling like a fucking psycho.”

“Silently watching him wreck the room didn’t seem like a good tactic either.”

In an instant Jack’s gaze is drawn to you, pulse racing as he is struggling to bite down his emotions: why would you put yourself in danger, why can’t you ever back down, why can’t he stay away? And unexpectedly you look at him, and your gaze isn’t a puzzle or a dare but an explanation: you can’t be mad at me for the thing you would’ve done yourself. I know you would have.

The room goes quiet but only for a moment — before another cry comes, and the patient lunges straight at you. Jack’s eye catches the movement, and at the very last second, he moves to stand in the guy’s way.

The drunkard crashes into him, hands swatting at the air, too uncoordinated to land a proper punch. And then all of a sudden he headbutts Jack. The pain is sharp, shooting toward his nose, but Jack manages to stay upright. He can’t see you stopping cold or the security approaching in a hurry and in worry.

Because Jack is only seeing red.

He breathes in through the mouth and grabs the man with both hands, rough and unflinching. Jack pushes him back to the gurney, then throws him on it, face flat against the pillow; his angry cries tone down to weak whimpers.

“Shut the fuck up. Stop moving,” Jack hisses into his ear.

He can taste the blood that oozed down to his lips and he can hear the sound of footsteps in the room. But he doesn’t let go.

Jack feels a hand on his shoulder — he turns to see one of the guards, Ahmad. “Man, let us handle this. C’mon, step away.”

Begrudgingly, Jack does. Ahmad quickly takes his place, he and two other guards strapping the patient down; Mateo wriggles in the middle to sedate the guy. He dozes off, a dark purple bruise already blooming on his forehead, drool at the corner of his mouth.

You are still standing at the exact same spot, but then your eyes land on Jack’s blooded nose, and you immediately fall out of the stupor. You rummage through the nearest drawer and get a few clean cloths, then call for Dana to bring an ice pack. The guards leave but Mateo hangs back; he pulls up a chair for Jack to sit on.

“Are you okay? Any headache or dizziness or—”

“I’m fine, no need to coddle me,” Jack waves off his concerns crankily. Mateo looks at you for some support.

“He needs a head CT,” you say, gaze glued to Jack. “Ask the radiology if they can squeeze him in.”

Mateo nods and takes off with no other questions asked. The silence is now laced with tension, and while Jack’s pain gradually subsides, his anger doesn’t. He’s not the one for chit-chats, and it’s not a 'thank you' that he wants — but an admission: he was right, and you were careless, and maybe this is the one time you can agree with him.

You lean over wordlessly and wipe the dried-up blood, pushing his head back to examine his nose. Your touch is light, fleeting, but his skin heats up under your hands. You take a penlight to check for septal hematoma; then your thumbs move from his cheekbones to his nostrils. Jack doesn’t wince or look away, eyes dark and boring into you, unblinking. You put a finger to his nose and move it slowly from side to side, watching closely as his gaze follows it.

And then you pull away, and something cracks in him, a line formed on the ocean floor after it’s shaken by an earthquake, a force that pushes waves to crash onto the shore. And all his feelings surge up, unstoppable like a tsunami.

You look for more cloths, and only with your back to him, you finally decide to speak:

“Doesn’t look like a fracture but—”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Jack bursts out, the stridency of his voice barely contained.

Your hands flinch at the sound. Jack misses it or maybe chooses to ignore it, too adamant in his displeasure, too wrapped up in it.

“Do you realize how dangerous it was for you to go here alone? What could’ve happened to you if security came late? Or do you just assume it’s not a big deal if you get hurt? Can you for at least a second consider the consequences of your relentlessness, can you imagine how dire they might be? And what it’s like for someone else to throw themselves between danger and you?”

But then you turn to him, and his tirade breaks off, the anger ebbing instantly as he sees your face expression.

It would be easy to assume he must’ve hit a nerve. Except, it looks way worse than that.

Your gaze is swept with pain, eyes wide and bright with tears you are holding back. An inhale quivers at your lips, chest heaving like you are scarcely managing to curb your feelings. Like there’s been a wall you’ve built meticulously over the years, and he didn’t just put a crack in it — no, he tore it down completely, drove through it with a bulldozer, only a mess of rubble left behind. And he knows that’s not something an apology will fix.

Jack feels the guilt already swirling in his chest as he sits straighter, eyes not leaving yours.

“Listen, I didn’t—”

“I heard you loud and clear, Dr. Abbot,” your voice is lacerating, a blade you’ve armed yourself with, steel that cuts him deep. “If my company displeases you so much, I will make sure to limit our interactions. Apologies for any inconvenience.”

You turn away, and when he sees you wipe your cheeks with one quick motion, Jack knows he is the only one to blame. But you don’t let him see your tears nor do you wait for him to talk again. You rush out of the doors, and the words he catches aren’t meant for him:

“Dana, please help Dr. Abbot with the ice pack.”

He hears her coming in and he’s almost ashamed to look — Dana meets his gaze with arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head in disapproval. She doesn’t say a thing and puts ice on his nose with a face that looks like she would rather punch him. Jack doesn’t even try to come up with excuses — he knows he has none.

He fails to find you after the shift ends: you must’ve sneaked out to avoid him, and he can’t say that he’s surprised. Jack walks home in the rain, not bothering to open the umbrella, the street lights drowning in the puddles underfoot, the wind biting his wet face. He can barely feel it. And in the privacy of his apartment — a cold, half-empty space, walls void of any color — a thought that has been lurking in his mind finally takes shape:

Jack loathes being alone.

And he messed up so badly.

🎵 the title is a quote from Tom Odell’s “Can’t pretend” (the song is just so Jack-coded to me! highly recommend you give it a listen. the small part from 1:29 to 1:49 gives me heart palpitations and is very fitting for this chapter lol).

by “rivals” I meant it’s all in Jack’s head, he’s silly like that 😩 you’ll learn about the reader’s past in the next chapter!

I didn’t specify how big the age gap is exactly. google search told me you get into residency when you are in your 30s, and Abbot is def over 40. but some like to imagine the reader younger, so I didn’t want to ruin that for you.

there are definitely some medical inaccuracies (pretty sure ex-lap isn’t performed in the ER) but I am begging you to ignore that.

dividers by me & plum98.

» I plan on writing 3 parts in total (a prayer circle for my inspiration to stay with me, PLEASE). of course, there will be smut... they just have to learn how to talk to each other first. » read on AO3 » English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes. reblogs and comments are very appreciated! tell me if you want to be tagged ♡

[maghendearey]

I’m begging you please write something for dad!Lando Norris maybe he is streaming with Max f and y/n walks in with their kid and lando just goes from game raging to being the softest person ever

I love this idea so much and am so excited to put it into action. Sorry if it took a while. If any of you have any ideas, my requests are open.

Baby days

Masterlist

:in which Lando decided to stream on one evening and ends up cuddling with the children

triggerwarnings:none

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Since Lando was little, he only wanted a few things, to find a best friend: which came in the form of Max, to get into F1: he managed in the year 2019 and to win a world championship: he hadn't done that yet but was well on his way.

What wasn't on his plan, however, was you, when you broke down on the side of the road with your car problem and he stopped because you were somewhere in the mountains and he wasn't going to leave you there overnight without any help. What wasn't on his plan, however, was your beautiful smile and your sense of humor which was so bad it made everyone in the room laugh. What wasn't on his plan was that he would make you his girlfriend, that you would get on really well with his family and that Max, his best friend, would soon be like a brother to you. And what was least on the agenda was that at the age of 23 you would become a father to a little girl, Maja, and at the age of 25 you would become a father for the second time, in this case to a little boy, Oliver-Max.

He didn't quit F1 and to be honest, you didn't want him to either. You loved him and what the sport meant to him. And even though that meant he wasn't home a lot, the time he was there he was completely there for you and the little ones. He loved them and he loved you too, madly. He would die for the three of you in seconds if he had to. And even when he was home today, you had allowed him to stream on the computer with his friends; it was good for him to switch off and besides, Oliver, who really was the cutest baby, was already asleep on your chest. And Maja was watching Cars. You thought that film was weak but she had inherited her weakness for F1 from her father. Although she couldn't do anything with a go-kart yet because her little feet couldn't reach the pedals, you still knew that one day she would be a really good driver.

You left Maja alone in her room for a moment, the tablet in her little hand, and the film still playing, to put Oliver to bed. As you walked past Lando's streaming room with the baby in your arms, you heard him cursing loudly. You didn't really mind, but if he was that loud, it would wake Oliver up. So you knocked gently on the door before pushing down the doorknob. When he didn't answer, but presumably didn't hear you, you pushed down the doorknob and went in with the baby. Lando was wearing headphones, so he couldn't hear you. You stepped behind him and gently tapped his shoulder, which made him flinch. He took off his headphones and looked up at me, his smile changing from professional to loving in an instant. "My baby," he said, taking your son from your arms. You knew that "my baby" meant not just him but you too, because he didn't just take the baby from your arms. but also pulled you onto his lap. Your little boy pointed with his fingers at the screen, which your gaze also wandered to. There was not only the game but also Max, who was smiling brightly at you. "Hey, how are you?" Max asked, whom you could clearly hear through the headphones that were now on Lando's shoulder. It was difficult to concentrate because Lando's head was tucked into your neck and his lips were on your baby's forehead. "I'm fine, Max." You were just about to ask, but before you could, you heard the little footsteps running down the hallway and into your room with Lando. She must have heard Max's voice, because the one thing she loved besides F1 was definitely Max. But before she could do anything, you pulled Maja onto your lap.

Shortly after, Lando ended the stream; he wanted time with you. He wanted to kiss you, hold you, and spend the evening with you, Maja, and Oliver, with lots and lots of cuddles.

You didn't care about anything. You didn't care that you only got to bed in the middle of the night today, you didn't care that you'd both be overtired tomorrow. And you also didn't care that the photos from the stream would be all over the internet tomorrow. Because no matter what you were like, you were together. Totally in love and more than happy with everything you had and will have forever.

I hope you liked it and I was able to implement your idea. I wish you all a nice day.

Love you all 💋

[mintyys-blog]

Omni mark x reader house wife 💓💓💓 Let's say the reader was a bit of a delinquent, rebellious girl, but after Omni Mark met her, he knew there was no better way than to raise her as he filled her thoughts with motherhood, pregnancy, and becoming best housewife and the most beautiful mother with his Babys, Pleaseeeee 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 you are my fav Writer and writings always make my day better 💘💘💘

And please if you can do the same thing with the Vitrumate Mark if you can or with the Full Mask Mark. :3 💖💖💖

HIS LITTLE WIFE | omni mark x reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST 2 | WARNINGS: smut, pregnancy, dubious consent/possessive dynamics, implied kidnapping, grooming.

You were hell on wheels, darling—

a bad habit in red lipstick, danger in denim and leather. Your presence didn’t just enter a room—it claimed it, carved your initials into the walls, and left the scent of trouble lingering like smoke.

Leather jacket zipped halfway over a crop top, thighs hugging the seat of your beat-up motorcycle like it was a throne. You didn’t walk—you strutted. Every movement said I dare you. Every look was a challenge. Eyeliner sharp enough to cut, rings on every finger, and that mouth? Sharp enough to shred pride, charm, or reputation without ever lifting a hand.

You weren’t the kind of girl people forgot.

The city knew your name. Not because you were on a billboard or an Instagram feed—but because wherever you went, something always happened. A fight in a bar. A set of tires screeching down a quiet street at midnight. A pretty boy sobbing on a curb because he thought he could tame you with flattery.

They learned fast: you didn’t do soft. You left bruises on hearts and lipstick on stolen beer bottles. You flipped off security cameras and taught your friends how to hotwire a car just for kicks.

You were chaos, but beautiful. Reckless, but free. You used to laugh at girls who planned their weddings. Used to snort when someone said “biological clock.” The idea of being someone’s housewife? It made your skin crawl. You said the word like it was a disease. Like you’d rather dig your grave with your own chipped nails than cook dinner for a man who thought owning a ring meant owning you.

You made it very clear.

“I’ll never settle down,” you told your friends one night, parked at your usual dive, high heels kicked off beneath the bar and boots up on the stool like you owned the joint. The neon light painted your smirk in hues of sin, cigarette tucked behind your ear like punctuation.

“All these guys,” you scoffed, tilting your drink, “trying to play me into being their little wifey? Like, ‘oh baby, I’ll take care of you’—please. I’ll take care of myself. I’d rather burn my own house down than let some guy build a prison around me and call it ‘home.’”

The girls laughed. They knew you.

They’d heard you drag some poor guy down the block just for touching your waist without asking. They remembered the time you broke someone’s nose because he called you a “crazy chick.” And yet— “Unless,” you added, voice dropping, almost thoughtful.

You swirled your drink.

“Unless he’s the one. The right one. The kind of man who could pin me down without breaking me.”

That earned another round of laughter, half-wicked, half-hopeful. You all had your wounds. Your war stories. But no one, not one, doubted your conviction.

You meant it. With all your soul. No man could tame you. No man could own you.

You’d have to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into a dress and a white picket fence. It’d take a god to even try.

And then— The sky split open. And you met him.

It was late when it happened. City lights bleeding into the sky like neon veins, your boots scuffing the pavement with that easy, dangerous rhythm that said you didn’t care who was watching.

You were walking home from a party you didn’t stay long at. It was boring. The guys were forgettable, and the drinks were weak. You needed adrenaline—something real. Something that would make your heart race again.

That’s when you felt it. A shift. Not in the air. Not in the wind. In everything.

You stopped on the sidewalk, brows knitting. The street around you was still buzzing with life—cars passing, music thumping faintly from some rooftop bar. And then you saw him. Him.

Suspended in the sky above the buildings, like a bloodstain in the clouds. Red cape billowing. Muscles carved from war. Eyes burning.

Omni-Man— no, omnivincible. He wasn’t a hero now. He wasn’t even a man. He was a god who had fallen—and decided to drag the world down with him.

You’d seen him on the news. Watched him rip through people like they were paper, demolish entire teams like they were annoyances. He used to save lives. Now he just… chose.

Chose who got to live. Chose what cities burned. Your mouth went dry. “The hell is he doing here…?” you whispered.

You were still staring when a voice interrupted. “Hey, sweetheart. You lookin’ for a ride home?”

You blinked. Some sleaze from the bar earlier. He was grinning like he hadn’t just watched you roll your eyes at him hours ago. Blocking your path.

“Back off,” you said, tone flat, uninterested.

He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. “C’mon, don’t be like that. You looked lonely back there. Figured you might want some company—”

CRACK.

The sky screamed.

A sonic boom ruptured through the air so violently, the glass of nearby storefronts shattered—windows cracking into spiderwebs as car alarms shrieked and bystanders hit the ground with screams.

You ducked instinctively—but something told you not to run. Something ancient and primal in your blood said stay still.

Because he was already here. Standing in front of you. Where the creep had been—he was gone. Just gone. No scream, no warning. Just… vanished. And in his place stood him.

Tall. Silent. The wind howled around him, tugging his cape like it was bowing to him. His head turned. Slowly. Like a predator tasting the air. His eyes met yours. Or more like his goggles, black and soulless. Not glowing. Not monstrous. Just unblinking. Calm. Calculating.

And you—girl who feared no one—felt your pulse stutter. You took one step back. Then another. “I know you,” you said, voice low, guarded.

“You should,” he replied. His voice was deep. Smooth. Like stone cracking beneath velvet.

You swallowed, resisting the urge to look away.

“You’re Omni-vincible. Or… you were.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I still am,” he said. “I’ve just stopped pretending.”

Another step back. You didn’t run. You were too smart for that. But every instinct screamed: He’s not here for someone else. He’s here for you. “Why… why did you stop him?” you asked, meaning the creep. “What do you want?”

He tilted his head slightly, like the question amused him. Or confused him. “I don’t like men touching what’s mine.”

You froze. “…Yours?”

“You’ve caught my eye,” he said simply. Like that explained everything. Like it was final. You didn’t know what to say. What to do. So you did the only thing that made sense. You ran.

But even as your feet pounded the pavement, even as the adrenaline hit and your brain screamed get away—you knew it didn’t matter.

Because if a god decided you were his? Running was just part of the game.

You ran.

Boots slamming against pavement, lungs burning with the sting of cold night air. You didn’t look back—not once. You couldn’t. Not when your body was still processing the way he looked at you. Not when you were trying to pretend that heat hadn’t crawled down your spine when he called you his.

But behind you—up in the sky above shattered glass and flickering streetlights—he didn’t chase.

He watched.

Arms crossing over his chest, cape fluttering with the wind of his own destruction.

And he smiled.

“I always did like a bit of a challenge,” he murmured, mostly to himself. Like this was a game he’d already won—he just hadn’t played the last few moves yet.

TIME SKIP…

The apartment was quiet.

Not the silence of emptiness—but the hush of completion. Curtains swayed gently in the breeze. Sunlight painted golden lines across the bedroom floor, and the distant sound of city life filtered in from beyond the balcony.

But in here?

There was only the sound of him—his low, steady breaths behind you, and your own sighs as you rolled your hips back into him.

“Mark…” you whispered, voice breathy, already hazy. His hands were firm on your hips, guiding you, owning your rhythm without rushing it.

“You’re so perfect like this,” he murmured against your neck, lips brushing the skin reverently. His voice was low, roughened with pleasure. “My wife…”

You shuddered when he said it. That word.

Wife.

Two years ago, it would’ve made you laugh—scoff—fight.

Now it made your chest flutter and your thighs tighten around him.

You arched your back just to feel him groan again, his breath hot against your shoulder as his hands traveled to your waist, thumbs caressing the soft curve of your belly.

“Perfect,” he said again, slower this time. Like he wasn’t just praising your body, but what you were to him now. What you’d become.

His dream. His victory. The one woman in the universe wild enough to catch his eye—and soft enough now to carry his name, his mark, his legacy.

You could still remember what you used to be—sharp-tongued and storm-hearted. You still had that fire, somewhere. But here, with him? It burned for him.

His hands moved with reverence, one sneaking between your thighs, the other gripping your breast like he needed the anchor. His mouth was at your ear now, his words sweet and cruel all at once. “You’re everything I wanted. You know that?”

You moaned, unable to answer—because you did know. He’d told you every day since he claimed you. Since he’d broken down your defenses with patience and power and praise.

You were his queen now—but in his image. A wife who served him her body and her loyalty, who wore sundresses instead of leather, who cooed at baby names instead of cursing at cops. And you loved it. God help you, you loved it.

He kissed your neck again, slower this time. “Might keep you pregnant, sweetheart. Just like this. Round and glowing, full of my babies, always so soft for me…”

Your breath hitched—half a moan, half a gasp. And he chuckled darkly, pulling you back into him harder. Claiming you all over again.

Your body rocked against his, a slow grind that had nothing to do with teasing and everything to do with communion. You moved like you knew exactly what he liked—because you did. Two years of learning each other’s bodies, two years of nights like this where words faded and all that was left was the truth of touch.

Mark groaned, his hands tightening at your waist.

“You feel that?” he breathed against your shoulder, voice deep, rough with restrained need. “The way your body holds me? Like it was made for me, sweetheart.”

You whined, rolling your hips again, letting the drag of his cock fill you just right. Not fast, not desperate—intentional. You were in no hurry. Not anymore. You belonged to him, and this rhythm? It was your worship.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, kissing the curve of your neck. “Every inch. Every breath. This body, this heart—it’s all mine now, isn’t it?”

You nodded, voice caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “Y-Yeah… it’s yours, Mark. All yours.”

He growled, low and pleased, his grip tightening. His thrusts grew deeper—still slow, but heavier now, claiming you with each movement like he was trying to imprint himself inside you all over again.

“You were so wild back then,” he rasped. “So angry. So sure no man could ever own you.”

His hand slid up to your throat—not tight, not choking—just holding, a reminder.

“And now look at you… riding your husband like a good girl. Moaning for me. Begging for more.”

You whimpered, head falling back against his shoulder as he fucked up into you, the bed creaking under the weight of his strength and your surrender. One hand still at your throat, the other slid down, fingers pressing between your legs, circling that sensitive spot he knew too damn well.

“Mark—!”

He chuckled darkly, lips brushing your ear.

“Gonna make you cum like this,” he whispered. “Nice and slow. Let you milk me like a good little wife… my perfect girl…” And when it hit you—when your body clamped around him and your back arched and your voice broke into his name—it wasn’t just an orgasm. It was the echo of everything he’d built in you. The rebel, turned lover. The wild girl, turned his.

Your body trembled with aftershocks, skin slick with heat and pleasure as you collapsed back against him—chest rising and falling, your breath still catching around his name.

Mark didn’t move right away.

He just held you there, buried deep inside, one arm wrapped tight around your middle, the other sliding slowly, reverently, down to the small swell of your stomach.

His hand settled there.

Warm. Broad. Possessive.

You shivered—not from cold, but from the way he touched you. Like you were sacred. Like you were more than a wife, more than a woman. You were his legacy in motion. His future.

His home.

“You feel that?” he whispered against your neck, his breath making your skin prickle.

You hummed, dazed. “Mhm…”

“Our baby’s in there.”

You let out a soft sound—half sigh, half sob. His palm rubbed gentle circles against the faint bump, the early sign of what was growing. What he’d put there.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw. “So full. So mine.”

You melted into him, head resting on his shoulder, the strong cage of his arms holding you together as you breathed him in.

Mark exhaled slowly, the weight of you—you carrying his child—making his heartbeat slow with something dangerously close to peace.

“Never thought I’d want this,” you murmured, eyes fluttering shut. He chuckled softly.

“No,” he said, voice velvet-smooth. “But I did.” He leaned forward, lips brushing the back of your shoulder. “I knew the moment I saw you—out there, all fire and fury—that I’d put a baby in you someday.”

You whimpered softly, and he smiled. “Now look at you. Soft. Glowing. Mine.”

You nodded sleepily, letting him guide you down gently onto the bed, still keeping one hand over your stomach. His other hand caressed your hip as he spooned against your back, every inch of him curved around you like armor. Safe. Heavy. Permanent.

“Get some rest,” he murmured, brushing your hair away from your face. “I’ll take care of everything.”

The morning sun spilled through the tall windows, drenching the kitchen in gold.

You stood at the stove, barefoot, hair tied up in a loose knot. One of Mark’s shirts hung off your shoulders—soft cotton swallowing your frame, sleeves pushed up past your elbows, hem barely covering the swell of your hips.

The fabric stretched gently around your belly. It wasn’t small anymore.

You were showing now.

And you swore Mark loved you more with every inch that grew.

Bacon sizzled on the pan. You flipped it with one hand, the other absentmindedly rubbing your belly as you hummed. The house was quiet, warm, filled with the smell of fresh toast and eggs and the promise of another perfect day.

You’d never imagined this—never saw yourself in a kitchen like some suburban dream, barefoot and pregnant and humming over breakfast.

But now? Now it felt right.

Because this was for him. For your husband. For the god who chose you.

And you were happy.

Until you felt it—that shift in the air. The soundless presence that meant he was near. You didn’t need to turn around to know.

He was watching you.

“Smells good,” Mark said, voice deep and rich as he stepped into the kitchen. You could feel his gaze all over you. “But not as good as you.”

You turned your head just slightly, smirking. “You mean your shirt smells good?”

“I mean you, carrying my child, standing there looking like every fantasy I’ve ever had.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks heating as he moved closer.

He didn’t stop at just holding you.

He never did.

One strong arm wrapped around your waist from behind, the other hand sliding up your thigh, under the hem of his shirt—your shirt now. His palm flattened across the curve of your stomach, warm and possessive.

“I should let you cook,” he murmured against your neck, lips brushing your skin like a secret. “But it’s hard. Watching you like this. Looking so soft. So mine.”

You bit your lip, flipping the burner off.

“Breakfast’s not going anywhere,” you whispered.

His hand moved higher, cupping your breast—heavier now, full from the pregnancy. You gasped, arching into his touch as he grinned against your neck.

“Neither are you.”

His other hand slipped lower, beneath the swell of your belly, fingers brushing where he knew you were already getting wet from his voice alone.

“Mark…”

“You’re everything I wanted,” he murmured, guiding you to lean against the counter, his body pressing against your back, caging you in. “The perfect wife. And still so ready for me, even like this…”

You whimpered when he teased you through your underwear, the heat of his touch sparking through your limbs like lightning. “I can’t help it,” he whispered, voice reverent and hungry. “Even when you’re already full, I still want you.” Still his. Always his.

[lives-in-midgard]

Can't lose you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader including Sam Wilson and Joaquin Torres

Summary: After Bucky found out that you had a car accident and are now in the hospital. He rushes to the hospital and is scared to lose you.

Warnings: slight mention of a car accident, sad and scared Bucky 🥺

Word Count: 1266

A/N: Hey! It's been a while since I wrote a Bucky fanfic. I hope you enjoy it. 🥰

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Bucky was at Sam and Joaquin’s base, talking about a mission when he suddenly got a call from an unknown number.

“Hello, am I talking to James Buchanan Barnes?” The woman said on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, that’s me.” Bucky said and looked over to Sam. Suddenly he began to get nervous. What if something happed to you?

“Did something happen to my wife?” Bucky asked and was scared what she would say.

“She had a car accident and is in the hospital. Your wife is currently getting operated.” She said and Bucky’s heart began to race. The woman explained some more things to Bucky, but he was too nervous to listen to everything.

“Thank you, I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Bucky said and as the call ended, he took a deep breath. He looked at the ground for a second and his eyes began to get blurry. Sam and Joaquin who could hear the conversation looked at each other with a worried expression. Sam walked over to Bucky and laid his hand on Bucky’s shoulder to give him some comfort. Bucky looked at Sam with a worried expression.

“I have to go to her.” Bucky mumbled and Sam nodded.

“We’ll drive you.” Sam said and looked at Joaquin who was already grabbing his car keys.

“Thanks, Sam.” They made their way to the car. Bucky didn’t pay much attention to the drive. He looked down at his wedding ring and softly touched it with his thumb and thought about this morning. The morning started so good. The day always starts good when you’re in his arms. A light smile appaired on his face as he thought back to today’s morning conversation. You had to get up and go to work but Bucky didn’t want to let go of you. So, you stayed a few more minutes and cuddled.

“Bucky we’re here.” Sam softly said and interrupted Bucky’s thoughts. Bucky looked up at him and then they walked to the hospital. As they walked into the hospital a nurse told Bucky where they could wait for a doctor. The three of them sat down on the chairs and Bucky looked at his ring again and started to play with his hands.

“I can’t lose her too.” Bucky suddenly whispered while a tear ran down his cheek. He thought about his sister, his parents and about Steve. You were the only family he has and he loved you so much.

“Buck, you won’t. She is a fighter.” Sam said and a light smile appeared on Bucky’s face.

“Yeah, you’re right. She is.”

“Thanks for being here with me.” Bucky said.

“Of course.” Sam said and Joaquin nodded. You are also important to them. They are one of your closest friends.

A few more minutes passed until a doctor came to them. Bucky, Sam and Joaquin all looked to her.

“Mr. Barnes?” She said and Bucky stood up.

“Is she okay?” Bucky asked.

“Your wife is stable. She is still asleep, but you can go to her, I’ll come and check on her in a bit.” The doctor said and Bucky felt relieved knowing that you were stable and that he could see you. Before walking away Bucky looked at Sam and Joaquin who both also looked very glad that you were okay.

“We’ll wait here.” Sam said and Bucky nodded. Then he followed the doctor to your room. Bucky opened the door and quietly walked over to your bed. He sat down next to your bed and reached for your hand, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand. A couple of minutes passed until you woke up. A soft smile appeared on his face as he noticed that you started to wake up.

When you woke up you looked into Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes.

“Bucky.” You mumbled and looked around.

“You’re at the hospital my love.” Bucky said and you could remember what happened.

“I had an accident.” You whispered and Bucky nodded.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, doll.” Bucky admitted as he softly held your hand and gave it a gently squeeze. You gave him a small smile.

“Sam and Joaquin are also here.” Bucky said after a moment, and you were relieved that he wasn’t alone. A while later there was a knock on the door and a doctor walked in.

“Mrs Barnes, how are you feeling?” She asked and looked at you.

“I feel tired and exhausted.” I admitted.

“That’s understandable, you have been though quite a bit. The surgery went well but you have to stay here for a few days.“

“So, she is okay?” Bucky asked to make sure.

“Yes, they both seem to be in perfect health.” The doctor said. You looked at Bucky with a confused look. Bucky was as confused as you and looked back to the doctor.

“You said they both?”

“I did. Mrs. Barnes. You’re pregnant.” She said and you couldn’t believe it. You began to smile and looked over to Bucky who also had a huge smile on his face.

“We’re gonna be parents.” Bucky said with a smile.

“I’ll let you two alone.” The doctor said with a smile and left the room.

“I can’t believe it, doll.” Bucky said and moved closer to you. He gently placed his hand on your cheek and gave you a passionate kiss.

“I love you.” You whispered as you broke the kiss.

“I love you too.” Bucky said with so much love.

“Can I see Sam and Joaquin?” You asked Bucky after a while.

“I think you should get some rest, doll.”

“Just for a bit.”

“Okay, just for a bit. I’ll be right back.” He said and kissed your cheek before going out of the room. It didn’t take long until Bucky returned with them.

“We are so glad that you’re okay.” Joaquin said with a smile as he entered the room.

“Thanks for being there for Bucky.”

“That’s what friends are for.” Sam said and you smiled back at him and then looked over to Bucky. Bucky nodded at you answering your silent question.

“I bet you will be great uncles.” You suddenly said with a grin.

“What?” Joaquin said confused but Sam started to smile.

“My beautiful wife is pregnant.” Bucky announced with a smile.

“Wow, congrats you two, that’s amazing.” Joaquin said with full excitement and Sam also congratulated you and Bucky. They stayed for a few minutes until you decided that it’s better to rest now.

“If you need anything, just call me.” Sam said before leaving. When they left you tried to move a bit to the other side of the bed.

“Woah, take it easy doll.” Bucky said and quickly stood up to help you.

“Just wanted to make some space for you.” You mumbled and could see how he began to smile.

“You want to cuddle?” Bucky asked in a soft voice, and you nodded. Bucky laid down beside you and gently put his arm around you. You laid your head on his chest, and he gently kissed your forehead. Bucky held you close and began to slowly draw circles on your arm, knowing that it always brings you comfort when he does that.

“I’m gonna be a dad.” Bucky suddenly whispered.

“I already know you’re going to be a great dad.” You whispered and slowly began to fall asleep.

“And you’re going to be the best mom.” Bucky whispered even though you were already asleep. Having you close and knowing that you were okay, finally brought Bucky some peace.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buck-star | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 |

@mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts | @rogersbarber

[madamepestilence]

(thank you @arcalranem for reblogging this so i can drop the context now that im off work :3)

obligatory note that the friend in question was unaware of the context of the racism and i actually had to take some time to explain why it was racist, which i'll be copying here

here's the video in question:

and here's the breakdown of the racism i found in literally just the start of the video before entirely giving up on it

the fucking title - "dunking my wifes social credit score w a glob of symbiotic ranch"

literally 0:07 - "So these people in China wanted to pay me to play this game called marvel rivals and it immediately made me suspicious. do i really wanna give China my credit card information?"

0:38 - "...fighting the urge to dump this email in the trash like the american imperialist that i am"

0:46 - "...i remembered that my wife is chinese and i already tanked her social credit score..."

0:54 - "...why not download the silly Chinese Disney game and play Cookie Clicker with my wife's financial future" (social credit score does not work like this, it affects what tier of public services you're allowed to use, not whether you can rent an apartment like it does in the us)

1:03 - "To be crystal clear, I said no to the money, because the moment I cash the sponsorship check they'd force me to delete all jokes and fun from this video..." (while showing a racist meme that says "-100,000,000,000 Social Credit / Execution Date: Tomorrow Morning") "...and it's highly likely that even making this video is gonna get my Marvel account banned for mentioning the words Taiwan, or Tibet, or Tiananmen Square..."

and the explanation i provided:

the chinese government believes that taiwan and tibet are supposed to be part of china and doesn't want them to retain their independent status

tianenmen square refers to an incident where a man carrying grocery bags confronted chinese tank drivers in the titular street; this is often associated with, "government oppression," but neglects to consider that 1. the chinese government was responding to a violent fascist mob that specifically advocated for violence and whose members publicly admitted they wanted bloodshed in post-incident interviews and 2. we have a video of the entire fucking event and the guy just peacefully walks up to the tanks, climbs on top, and just. has a chat with the tank driver before walking off. consequently tianenmen square is ironically more censored outside of china than it actually is in china and is used for sinophobia and anti-communism

the social credit score is a rating of how good of a person you are basically and has nothing to do with how the american credit score works; major tldr all chinese people are guaranteed public services but if you're a shithead who steals or is cruel to people or whatnot you can be restricted from using the nice high speed rail trains and get stuck using a basic low-speed train that takes 14 hours to get to your intended destination and can be downgraded from nice high quality housing to block housing but are fundamentally still guaranteed these rights, but this is often given false equivalence to the american credit score, which if low enough can literally ban you from buying a car or renting an apartment, forcing homelessness on you

long story short i hope this man's wife leaves him for someone who isn't a fucking racist

Man I wish it was easier to be a fan of DIY electronics/electronics repair without being racist to Chinese people

[oikarma]

monaco yacht club

pairing: kimi räikkönen x reader

summary: the iceman didn't think love was in the cards this summer, but he's proven wrong when it walks right onto his yacht, the iceman.

a/n: monaco 2006 you will always be famous xx

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You had precisely three things on your summer checklist (well, it was only May, but these things were a technicality):

Get a tan.

Find your sea legs.

Avoid boring men in polo shirts.

So when you sashayed down the Monaco marina in your oversized sunglasses and silk scarf blowing dramatically in the sea breeze, you were convinced life was going exactly to plan. Until it wasn't. Because, apparently, you got on the wrong yacht.

"I don't remember hiring a crew," a voice said, low and unimpressed, behind you.

You turned around from where you were sprawled dramatically across the cushioned sunbed, sipping sparkling water and admiring your own pedicure.

And there he was: tall, sun-drenched, and scowling at you like you'd committed a federal crime instead of simply boarding what you thought was your family's boat.

"You're not wearing shoes," you pointed out, lifting your sunglasses just enough to glare at him properly.

"You're not supposed to be here," he replied coolly.

"I'm always supposed to be wherever I am," you said, standing now, a little flustered, a little thrilled. Who was this little boy? Well, not boy. He was certainly a man in his own right. But he shouldn't be talking back to you! "This is my yacht."

He crossed his arms, a small smirk playing on his lips. "That so?"

You blinked, looked around at the deck, at the gleaming chrome railing, at the Finnish flag. Oh. It might've slipped your mind.

"…this isn't the Phoenix, is it?"

"No. It's the Iceman," he said. "And you're on it."

You stared at him, then down at the deck, then back at him. "Okay. So, maybe I got a little lost."

"You 'got lost' onto a private yacht?"

"Maybe I got excited about getting back onto a white boat. It's hot. I was thirsty. Don't people trespass all the time in Monaco?"

"No."

You smiled at him, batting your lashes just a little. "Are you always this fun at parties? Who's paying for the yacht, pretty boy? Is it your daddy?"

"Yes," he said. And to your second question, "me. I race cars."

You blinked and looked him up and down, mostly with the purpose of figuring out who this racecar driver was, but also because he was a little attractive. Not Schumacher. Okay, that was it. What other blonde F1 driver did you know? Finnish...you scoured your mind and found two!

"Wait. You're either Mika or Kimi."

“Mika's retired."

"So you're Kimi."

"You say that like you expected me to be taller."

"Well, you probably seem taller in the tabloids. They don't want broody strangers."

"I'm not brooding," Kimi said flatly. "I just don't like strangers on my boat."

"Well then," you said, brushing imaginary lint off your dress and walking--gracefully, thank you very much--past him, "maybe you should have locked the door, Iceman."

You paused at the top of the plank, looking back at him. "Thanks for the drink. Even if it was technically theft."

He didn't say anything until you were almost gone, and he called out, "Next time you want a tan, ask first."

You turned around, eyes wide. "Next time?"

He--Kimi--shrugged, already walking inside. "You know where to find me now."

Your heart did an extremely uncool little flip.

And you added:

4. Come back to the Iceman.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You did not come back on purpose.

Okay, maybe you did. But only a little. It was your friend's idea. Sort of. She said you should "accidentally" walk by his boat again just to "see if he's real" and not a "fever dream with cheekbones."

Also, you wore the pretty white cover-up. Not for him. It was for the, uh, aesthetic.

You had every intention of walking right past the Iceman this time. A quick stroll down the dock, head held high, pretending like you weren't thinking about the man who didn't smile but made your heart do aerial stunts.

And yet.

"There's no way this is accidental," came the now-familiar voice from the deck.

You froze mid-step, toe hovering over the dock, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of your nose. "Excuse me?"

Kimi was shirtless this time. Unfairly so. He had one hand on the railing, the other holding a half-eaten nectarine like this was a Botticelli painting, and not your life.

"You're back," he said, as if that was the entire sentence. Clearly, he was a man of few words.

You huffed. "Don't flatter yourself. Maybe I'm scouting yachts. Maybe I have options."

He raised an eyebrow. "Girls with options don't wear lip gloss and look lost."

"I'm not lost," you insisted.

"You always say that when you’re lost."

You crossed your arms. "Okay, not always. It's the second time. And what are you doing? Standing there like a Bond villain, eating fruit and judging tourists?"

"I like fruit," Kimi said. "And I don't like tourists."

You stared at him.

He stared back.

And then--then--the corner of his mouth tilted. Just the tiniest bit. A smirk, barely there, like he wasn't sure if he was going to find you funny yet.

"I have champagne," he said casually.

You blinked. "Are you bribing me to stay?"

"Maybe."

"Is it cold?"

"Of course."

"And are there snacks?"

"There can be."

You paused for dramatic effect, then turned back toward the yacht, walking up like it was the Queen's invitation. "Fine. But only because my heels hurt and you're marginally less rude than the sun."

"You're not wearing heels."

"Don't ruin the moment, Kimi."

He handed you a glass of champagne and your fingers brushed, just barely.

You sat, legs stretched out, toes pointing toward the sea. He leaned against the rail again, watching you. He wasn't staring, just looking?

"So," you said eventually, swirling the glass, "do you offer all your trespassers drinks? Or am I special?"

He looked at you so intently you almost forgot how to breathe. "You're the first one who came back."

Your heart? Gone. Floating somewhere between the Mediterranean and Monaco's skyline.

"Oh," you said quietly, smiling into your glass. "Well. Good thing I like fruit."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The plan was simple: one drink, maybe a quick dip, then you'd float off back to reality before things got complicated. But the weather didn't care about your plans. And neither, apparently, did Kimi.

You were mid-laugh, ankles swinging off the side of the yacht, when thunder rumbled low in the distance. You glanced up from your glass.

"Was that--"

"Storm's coming," Kimi said from behind you, hands in his pockets, hair ruffled from the sea breeze. God, you wanted to run your hands through it too. Never thought you'd be envying nature.

You raised an eyebrow. "And you were going to tell me this when?"

"I thought you liked surprises."

"I like presents, Kimi. Not atmospheric threats."

But the sky was already turning dramatic--clouds rolling in with a moody kind of poetry that would’ve been beautiful if it didn't mean your tiny white dress was about to become a very damp, very clingy problem.

"We should get back to shore," you said, slipping off your sunglasses.

He glanced toward the dock, then back to you. "Too late."

Sure enough, the rain started--slow at first, then all at once. Warm, chaotic, soaking you in seconds. You shrieked, holding your arms out like you could stop it with sheer annoyance.

"Great," you muttered. "I'm going to look like a drowned heiress."

Kimi just watched you, completely unfazed, rain dripping off his brow like he was made of stone. A slightly amused, highly attractive stone.

"You could've warned me sooner," you said, pushing wet hair off your face.

"You were busy talking about horoscopes and olives."

"I was being charming."

He tilted his head. "You were being loud."

You squinted at him. "Do you even like me, or are you just too polite to throw me off the boat?"

He didn't answer right away. He only stepped forward until you were almost toe-to-toe, rain pattering around you like applause.

"I don't usually like people," Kimi said. "But you're strange."

"Wow," you deadpanned. "Romantic."

He smirked. "It's not a no."

Before you could respond--because you absolutely had a witty comeback brewing--thunder cracked again. This time, closer.

He jerked his head toward the cabin. "Inside. Come on."

And that's how you ended up dripping and barefoot in the cozy cabin of a multimillion-dollar yacht that wasn't yours, wearing his hoodie (gray, soft, slightly too big) and sipping something warm he wordlessly handed you.

You glanced at the rain still lashing the windows. "Sooo, you're telling me I'm stranded?"

He nodded. "Well. If you really wanted to, no. But if it doesn't matter that much, yes, you are stranded for the night."

You tried to play it cool, because fuck if you wanted it. "Is this where you tell me there's only one bed?"

Silence.

You blinked. "Wait. Is there actually--"

"There’s a couch," he said, poker-faced. "But I'm not offering it."

You nearly choked on your drink. "Are you flirting with me, Kimi Räikkönen?"

"Maybe."

You stared, then smiled, then whispered, "Took you long enough."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The storm had no intention of stopping.

You stood in the little cabin barefoot, hair wet, legs cold, staring out the porthole like you could will the rain to let up. It didn't. It just pressed harder against the glass, wind whistling like some moody movie score.

"Bed's made," Kimi said behind you.

You turned. He was leaning in the doorway, towel-drying his hair with one hand, wearing a plain black shirt and grey sweatpants like he hadn't just walked out of a lifestyle magazine shoot.

"Thanks," you said, voice small. "I can take the couch."

He gave you a look. Just one of those slow, unreadable ones. "There's no point pretending. It's raining sideways. Just take the bed."

"And where are you sleeping?" you asked, not quite teasing.

His mouth twitched. "Also the bed."

"Fine. But no funny business."

He raised an eyebrow, totally unimpressed. "You snore."

"I do not!"

"You don't know what you do in your sleep."

You huffed, climbing into bed with dramatic flair, turning your back to him. "You're incredibly rude for someone offering me shelter."

"You could leave, you know. I'm sure you could find someone willing, if you family owns a yacht. You're also incredibly dramatic for someone stealing my hoodie."

You rolled over just to stick your tongue out at him and caught him smiling.

When the lights flickered again, you both froze.

And then--almost instinctively--he slid into the other side of the bed. The mattress dipped with his weight. He didn't touch you. Not even close.

You stared up at the ceiling. "This is weird, right?"

“No.”

You turned your head toward him. He was lying flat, arms folded behind his head, eyes on the ceiling too. He was very pretty, you admit, with his long lashes fluttering lazily. You asked, "you don't think this is a little bit emotionally loaded for two people who met via trespassing?"

"You weren't trespassing," Kimi said calmly.

You blinked. "I wasn't?"

"You just got confused."

Now, he had you smiling in the dark.

"I like your boat."

"I know."

"And I like that you let me stay."

His voice was barely there. "I like that you came back."

There was a silence after that.

Eventually, your eyes got heavy. You turned on your side, facing away from him, but not all the way to the edge.

Then you felt it--the brush of his fingers, careful and slow, against your hand.

You didn't say anything. You just let your hand fall back into his and he held it. He didn't grasp tightly, like it was a declaration. There was just enough pressure. Just enough.

You fell asleep like that, rain at the windows. Your body was warm and quiet and his fingers were loosely twined in yours.

In the morning, when sunlight cracked through the clouds and your head was tucked under his chin, you didn't pretend to be surprised.

You just smiled into his shirt and whispered, "told you I don't snore."

And he murmured, half-asleep: "I know. I wanted you closer."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You were mid-bite when the door slammed. Slammed-slammed. Like 'Ferrari just lost a front-row seat to Monaco glory' slammed. Of course, because that was basically what had just happened. Except, of course, you had figured out now that Kimi drew for McLaren.

You paused, olive halfway to your mouth.

You heard boots. Heavy steps. Muted Finnish cursing. Well, it might've been some other language but that was your boy out there and he certainly wasn't speaking English.

"Kimi?" you called from the kitchen, mouth still full. You liked his other yacht more, Iceman, but this one was nice, too. It was called 'One More Toy' and Kimi'd asked you to come here with all his friends. The Iceman, he said, was a lot more personal. You supposed that made you two close. You wouldn't ask him that now, though, because he looked angry. "Is that you or an extremely pissed-off ghost?"

No answer.

Just more cursing and the unmistakable sound of a helmet being launched onto the couch. It didn't hit you, thankfully.

You popped the olive in your mouth. "I'm guessing the race didn't go great?"

He appeared in the doorway like an angry cat dragged backwards through gravel. His fireproof suit was half off and his hair a mess. It was kind of hot, actually. Even with his face doing that thing where he looks like he might kill someone but he's too tired to commit. It was especially hot.

"Engine failure," he growled.

You nodded solemnly, like a priest. "Tragic. Want an olive?"

Kimi just stared at you. Like he couldn’t decide whether to yell or marry you.

"Why are you in my hoodie again?"

"It's my coping mechanism," you said, offering him the jar. "Also, it smells like you, and I like it."

He groaned, stalking past you to the bar, where he poured himself three fingers of something probably older than your childhood dog.

You followed, jar in hand. "Do you want to scream into a pillow? Punch a baguette? I have options."

He downed the drink in one go, eyes closed, breathing like the car personally insulted his grandmother.

"I walked off the track mid-race," Kimi muttered.

"I know. It was very dramatic. Ten out of ten for mysterious recluse energy. Did you hear your friends celebrating as you came on? Oh, wait, sorry, you were brooding again."

"I'm not mysterious. I wasn't brooding."

"You're an international man of monosyllables who just disappeared during a Grand Prix and materialized on a yacht. That's the definition mysterious behavior."

You held up your hands when seeing his look. "I support you."

Kimi finally--finally--cracked the tiniest smile. You loved it when he smiled. Then, he sank onto the couch like his bones had given up.

You sat beside him, jar between you, quietly nudging it toward him.

He took one olive and chewed slowly.

"...fuck. These are good."

"'Course they are, my sister-in-law comes from a family that makes olive oil."

He glanced sideways. "Wow. Didn't know that was a thing."

"You're messing with me. Whatever. If you didn't know, you do now. You know what else is a thing? You coming here every time your life explodes."

Kimi didn't argue. Instead, after a long pause, he admit, "I didn't want to be around anyone else."

"Oh."

"I don't talk much."

"Really?"

"Hey."

"Sorry, go on." You gestured with your jar.

He swallowed. "You make it quiet in my head. In a good way."

The olive jar hit the floor. Metaphorically. Though you did actually fumble it a bit in surprise.

"I--"

"I'm not good at this," Kimi added, clearly distressed by his own emotional vulnerability. "The people stuff."

"Well, you're doing amazing, sweetie," you said, placing a very gentle hand on his very tense knee. "You stormed in here like a Nordic pirate and admitted you like me. That's practically a marriage proposal."

He narrowed his eyes. "I did not say that."

"You meant it."

He opened his mouth to argue, then gave up. He took another olive and had you grinning.

Kimi didn't smile, exactly, but he did press a kiss to your temple five minutes later, like he couldn't not.

You added another thing to your mental summer checklist, the last one. It was actually summer, soon. Almost June.

5. Spend lots of time with one (1) brooding, shirtless, Finnish blonde that's bad with emotions, or: Iceman.

But how were you going to do that? He had his job and you...actually, travel certainly wasn't a problem for you.

Kimi looked at you funny, as if he'd read your mind. "What are you thinking about?"

"Can I come to work with you?"

He coughed. "Work? Like my job?"

"Formula One."

"We'll have to leave the yacht," he said, almost ruefully. "You can handle that?"

"Fuck the Iceman," you responded, though at heart you loved the boat that'd brought you to him, him to you. "I have my own Iceman right here."

"You're sappy," he noted. And this time he smiled.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

a/n: i've never written for a retired driver so this was fun! i adore kimi lol and hope you liked the banter

[huntingcupid]

⌗ WOMAN LIKE ME — M.M..

I can tell you're shy and I think you're so sweet spending every night under covers and still I wonder, could you fall for a woman like me?

⌗ MANON — fem!reader, fluff, suggestive, drinking, mentions of dr☆gs, swearing, rich!manon, scholar!reader, etc...

⌗ CUPID — hello! first work ever! I'm very excited for the feedback ill get, anyways i hope you all enjoy this :))

studying in a prestigious school came with its pros and cons — cons? you're a transferee and a scholar meaning you aren't really that rich, pro's no one bothers to bully you, maybe dirty looks but nothing too serious

your biggest problem was not fitting in, while other students wore gucci, prada or dior , you wore a hand me down shirt which probably had a rip in it

either way, you focused on finishing your studies to hopefully work for a better future — you've dreamt about the rich life style, not bothering to look at the prices or could spend thousands on a single bag only to wear it once

who lived this lifestyle you might ask, meret manon bannerman, the ghanaian princess, friends with the most well known people on campus and well respected person to say the least

every year she hosts a party in her multi million mansion, everyone gets an invitation — but there are these so called

vip's, only manon's closest friends, to name a few, lara , sophia and daniela

so when the invitations finally circled the campus, imagine your surprise seeing your name in the “manon's vip” — utter shock

you were just on your way to your last class when you had read it — “what the-” your jaw practically mopping the floor — manon and you barely interacted, and it didn't help that you had a little crush on the woman

you sat your normal spot, second row just behind manon and her clique — your friend and co-loser/nerd yunjin asks you about the party expecting you to get the normal one

“what!?” yunjin screeches, gaining the attention of the class, she quickly apologizes and tones down her voice, “vip? like the vip, did you like suddenly get close with manon without my knowledge or something” she mutters in disbelief

“i also don't know” you laugh a bit, nervous and worried about what may have landed you in this predicament — “well you have to dress well” yunjin replies, you gasp in faux astonishment

“are you saying I dress badly?” you said to the korean, “well…” yunjin trails off, you hit her arm playfully, “okay bully” you replied as yunjin giggles

“seriously, come over tonight i'll dress you up” yunjin then says — you nod understanding the woman, yunjin always looked out for you, especially now one wrong move from you and you will become the laughing stock

see other than being a complete nerd, yunjin was also rich, not manon level rich but rich enough that she casually has her walk-in closet

the school bell rings, signaling the end of your last class — you pack up your items careful with your very old laptop, till you felt someone tap your shoulders twice

“hmh?” you hum asking, you turn around only to see manon towering over you, your heart skips a beat, you unintentionally stare at her glossy lips — which didn't go unnoticed to the woman

“have you read the invitation yet?” she asks her voice naturally sultry which made you subconsciously grip the desk, “yeah i-i have” you stammer, nervous to be in her presence

“good, see you later then sweetie” manon says fixing a stray hair on your face before walking away, you felt like dying just at that moment, she drove you crazy

“okay what was that about” yunjin says in shock at what she had just witnessed, “i swear to god, are you guys fuc-” you hit yunjin cutting her off abruptly, “maybe she's being nice” you say, “or maybe she wants to kiss you” yunjin replies giggling as she runs off

you gasp running after the girl, “get back here huh yunjin!” you shout after her, finally catching up yunjin opens the passenger seat to her car

“so… what's the party theme?” yunjin asks as she drives, “I'm not sure, it didn't say anything on the invite just said dress your best” you replied shrugging, yunjin hums acknowledging it

you stare at the invite, thinking of how you got it — anyone could've gotten it but you did, you sigh overthinking

the next minute yunjin is pulling up to their driveway, you knew her house like the back of your hand — you assumed that her parents were out like usual since yunjin doesn't really bring you over when they are there

you two went straight to her room, as she rummaged through her piles of designer clothes you did your homework – “okay! got it — come here” yunjin shouts calling you to the closet

you walk in immediately sighing seeing 4 hangers with different dresses and accessories to match, “try all of these and ill see if its good” yunjin mutters pushing you to the bathroom with the first hanger

you tried it on mentally noting how much you hated wearing high heels, “not bad, not showing enough though” yunjin comments as she tilts her head assessing the dark blue dress that hugged you perfectly and gave the most coverage

“yunjin” you whine already wearing the final dress, its black and was so tight you felt like your heart was about to pop out, also felt like in any minute you'll flash someone with how pushed up your chest was — “now this is what we want to see y/n” yunjin mutters her eyes liting up excited

“okay take a quick shower and ill get working on your make up and everything” she smiles, “how about your clothes?” you ask, “I've had my outfit planned way before we got the invite” yunjin replies quickly ushering you into the bathroom, you chuckle at yunjins antics

a few hours later you two were ready to leave, you looked so different — like an upgraded version of your usual self

“oh my god, thank you yunjin” you pout hugging yunjin tightly, “anything for you” yunjin smiles and hugs back, you two drive to manons mansion, every year it kept looking better, it looked like millions of cars were parked outside as the bass of the music shook the ground

you gave yourself a pep talk, knowing from this point on your probably gonna not see yunjin, “girl calm your nerves down, manon invited you for a reason be confident okay?” yunjin says squeezing your hand before you two separated

you walk the unfamiliar halls of the mansion, stumbling upon the vip room, you knock hesitantly and waited for someone to open it — lara opens the door and immediately lights up, the room was beautiful — and was pretty loud due to the girls doing karaoke and taking shots

“manon, your girls here” lara calls out almost in a teasing voice — manon tells you to come in and you did, taking a seat next to her — “thank you for inviting me here” you mutter to the girl

“thank you for coming, you look incredible by the way” manon whispers back her hands snaking to you waist as she takes a shot — you take a shot enjoying the burn thag run down your throat

you look around the room but you couldn't ignore how manon was practically staring at you, her hands moving up and down your side — “hey ease up darling, want to taste?” manon ask handing you a dessert from the table, you nod letting her feed you

“woah manon, aren't you too quick there?” sophia gasps in faux surprise, manon flips her off laughing to herself, “don't mind them” manon whispers to you

the room started getting whirly for you, you blame the amount of shots and drinks you have drunk, but you wondered if they spiked some of the drinks since they hit harder than the ones you usually buy

“princess you alright?” manon asks as she notices how you've gone silent, she squeezes your arm, “my head just hurts a bit” you mutter back mustering up a small smile, manon knew you were drunk it was obvious she helped you up and carried you to her bedroom just down the hall

everything in that minute was a blur — your head spinned and you didnt even notice when you were laying on her bed, you open your eyes only to see manon over you

without thinking much you pull in the girl to kiss you, you melted into her lips, she was so intoxicating, manon's hands ran down your waist as she moans into you, her thigh creeps up between yours which made you groan

“fuck, you're so beautiful like this y/n” manon whispers into your lips, no one breaks off even though you two were nearing passing out from the lack of oxygen

manon felt like heaven, and you couldn't ignore how her thighs were in between yours, nothing mattered now, only manon

“shit” you breathe out breaking off to take a breathe — you look up at manon who just smirked smugly, her lip gloss now smudged and some stuck onto your lips

like a silent agreement, you sat on her lap, and held her nape kissing her yet again, manon but your lip making you groan she gained access to your mouth too, her tongue probed around tasting you — her hands were planted on your waist firmly which made you dizzy

you two eventually fell back leaving you on top of the girl, you moaned into her feeling turned on by the second — her hands now trailed down to your thighs, she then detached from your lips kissing your jaw down to your neck, sucking a particular spot which made you whimper

her hands skim your thighs scratching lightly — “f-fuck manon please” you beg in that soft whiny voice that manon just couldn't resist, “tell me what you want sweetie?” manon teases

“hey uhm guys..someone broke the tv in the lounge area” megan awkwardly breaks the session, you groan and manon scoffs annoyed but she had to check it

“ill be back princess, wait for me okay” you nod breathless, you fall back onto the bed, reflecting what just happened in the past 20 minutes — “what the fuck” you mutter to yourself immediately chatting yunjin about it

wc: 1.6k

[rhiannonsknife]

French-Canadian Shauna Shipman who has a particularly hard game, if seeing her become sloppy due to her anger on the field wasn’t enough, you can hear it in the way she mutters to herself in French, the way she huffs and puffs, finding herself at your side and complaining about how that team “100% cheated”.

And if that still was not enough, you could feel it. The little signs she always gave of what would occur that night. Her hands somehow on you: gripping onto your shoulder as she kisses her teeth and walks off the field, getting you to sit in the front after a tense goodbye with Jackie who stays oblivious to what you and her best friend are about to do.

Shauna’s hand finds your knee once you park at somewhere notably not your house and her eyes lock on yours. Shes at least cooled a little now, but there’s definitely a different kind of heat behind her gaze, one that takes you both tumbling out of her car, and through the front door.

It was routine, now. Win or lose, you’d find yourself next to Shauna the next morning, if it was for nefarious reasons or genuinely just to feel her company next to you.

That’s where you find yourself now, tangled up with Shauna Shipman in her way too creaky bed and with your shirt being pulled up, off of you and Shauna scrounging for the strap, more French falling from her lips as she finally finds it and pulls herself up with box in hand, momentarily happy with herself.

- Season 3 thoughts annon. (Note: not proof read and Im not a writer, I tried to make it clear but as long as it helps thats great. I don’t mind if you don’t reply or dont take this direction if you don’t think it fits, there’s no pressure! Have a great day)

shoutout to my best friend for helping me with the french…explaining the situation to her was interesting…nsfw content, obviously, so mdni.

shauna’s pissed.

you could tell before she walked off the field: her passes got sloppier the longer the game dragged on, and she mouthed off at the ref without even trying to hide it. her fists clenched, and her muttering slipped from english to french the angrier she got.

even through the noise, you could hear her from the stands: “c’est quoi cette merde…” she muttered for the third time, jogging past.

when the game ends, shauna storms off the field, her mouth already forming a new complaint as her fingers catch your shoulder in passing.

you barely catch a glimpse of jackie still making her way toward the bench, holding her captain’s posture, or the rest of the team because shauna is already dragging you off with a muttered, “viens-t’en.”

she doesn’t say anything else, not until you pull up to her house and her hand lands on your knee, the heat of her palm burning through the denim.

her cheeks are flushed, her lip caught between her teeth, jaw ticking. shauna’s thumb rubs a slow circle over your thigh.

she still won’t say a word, not in english, not in french.

the next thing you know, you’re stumbling out of the car like you’ve been lit on fire, her hoodie sleeve caught in your hand, your mouths fused together in the moment it takes to get through the front door.

you somehow end up tangled in the too-narrow sheets of her too-creaky bed, half-dressed and breathless, with shauna still smelling of sweat from the previous game.

she’s all over you before you even realize she’s taken her cleats off.

your shirt is tugged up over your head, tossed across the room whilst her fingers knead your breasts through your bra, her mouth catching yours in another kiss.

she’s cursing again, muttering angry french phrases into your mouth. “putain, où est-ce que je l’ai mis…” shauna mutters, pulling away just long enough to dig under the bed.

you watch her, chest rising and falling as shauna holds you in place. she lets out a victorious little “ha!” when she finds it: the strap, stored underneath the bed frame. once she’s got the harness and the dildo in her grip, she climbs back over you.

the rest of it comes together in pieces; french slurred into your skin. her mouth on your shoulder. her fingers adjusting the harness, hips fitting into the space between yours until you feel the head on her cock against yourself.

“regarde-moi”

you never learned french properly. with shauna, you’ve picked up just enough to understand what she wants from you and look up at her.

shauna’s hands push your legs apart harshly, no room left for the “softness” that she tried so hard to maintain on the field. you reach for her waist to ground her, yet her hand catches your thigh, thumbs digging in a little as she huffs through her nose, nostrils flaring.

“tu m’as manqué,” she mutters, her mouth grazing the edge of your jaw. “t’as pas idée…toute la journée.” on the last word, shauna’s hips piston forward and she pushes the strap into you to the hilt, drawing a ragged moan from the back of your throat at the sudden stretch.

shauna knows your body too well for it to ever be uncomfortable. she knows this particular strap, too. how it fills you just enough, how your body takes to it without needing much preparation. more than anything, she knows you enjoy it this way, when she’s wound tight from the day, needing somewhere to pour all that pent up energy. you always take it.

she groans like she just shoved her real cock into your cunt and feels your tight walls clenching around her length now that she’s all the way inside. her hips roll, shallow and testing as she drops her forehead to yours, panting.

you clutch at shauna’s waist, the only thing you can still hold onto through the relentless pace she immediately sets. all you can really do is take it, lay back and take it, as shauna fucks you into the mattress. she is heaving against your skin, her grip on your thighs keeping you wide open.

she is no longer bothering with translations either, just grunting barely coherent french against your skin as she expertly grinds, her length hitting your g-spot every time she bottoms out.

“tu m’as regardée depuis les gradins comme si t’en savais rien- comme si t’étais pas là hier soir, dans mon lit, en train de-” the sentence morphs into a groan, which hardly matters, considering you don’t understand most of what she’s saying anyway.

shauna thrusts again. you gasp, your head falling back against the pillows.

“tourne-toi,” she urges suddenly. her hand finds your shoulder, gives it a firm tug. “allez, tourne-toi.”

too fucked out to think straight, you hesitate and shauna groans impatiently. “turn around, baby,” she snaps, switching to english. “hands and knees”

immediately, you scramble to obey, trying to catch your breath as the mattress shifts under your shared weight. from behind, shauna makes a sound bordering on a whimper, followed by the rustling of fabric as she gets into position. “comme ça,” she praises, her eyes ranking over your arched back. “just like that,”

her fingers snake around your hip, the others spread across your lower back, holding you there when she fills you again in one fluid motion. you’re so wet that she slides right in.

the full length of the toy is sinking into you now and your jaw goes slack at the sheer force behind her thrusts, the depths she’s reaching inside. “tellement bonne pour moi,” shauna grits out through her teeth, the sound of your wetness squelching muffling her words.

your mouth parts to ask what it means, but it turns into another moan as her hips start to roll again and your elbows nearly give out under the intense sensations.

“je peux pas penser, quand t’es là…je peux pas- fuck! je te veux tout le temps, tu comprends?” shauna’s voice cracks.

you can’t answer anyway, not when she’s fucking you like this, deep and angry and so good your eyes roll to the back of your hand whilst she ruts into you. there’s a tension building low in your belly, pulled from the grind of her body against yours.

blindly, you reach behind yourself, fingertips brushing the outside of her thigh. shauna catches your wrist mid-motion and presses your hand back down into the mattress. her rhythm never falters.

“là. reste là.” she instructs. “je veux que tu jouisses pour moi”

you don’t need the translation for that part, familiar enough with the command, and rock back against her, fucking yourself on her strap. your body understands even if your brain struggles to keep up.

shauna’s nails dig into your waist, your ass slapping against her thighs rhythmically. all the anger she couldn’t get out on the field is bleeding into every deep thrust.

eventually, her body folds over yours, the full weight of her pressing you down into the mattress. you’re sandwiched between the push of her chest against your back and the sheets, the leather of her harness creaking with each rut. underneath you, the blankets are twisted, damp with sweat and hot with friction. shauna buries her face against the curve of your neck, mouthing at the skin and muttering something feverish in french you can’t make out.

“bouge les hanches,” she instructs once. “let me feel you.” even when you move, shauna matches your rhythm greedily. the bed creaks like it might give out. your thighs ache. her sweat mixes with yours, slick where her skin drags across your back.

“t’es parfaite,” shauna pants. “so fucking perfect for me”

she moves one hand from your waist to your chest, sliding it up until it rests just below your throat, fingers spread wide. her thumb brushes your pulse, and you can feel how hard hers is hammering in her wrist, still so close behind you, pressed in deep.

her lips graze the shell of your ear. “encore…” she rasps. “just a little more.”

you give it to her.

[qrrieterisunnq]

Good Luck Kiss - Jack Hughes

strawberry girl masterlist

JACK!HUGHES X AMARA!JAMES — WARNINGS: nothing, just sweet pure content — SUMMARY: Jack swears he plays better when Amara kisses him before every game. Now that he’s injured, Amara kisses every Devil on the cheek for good luck. — WORD COUNT: 2,4K — AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey there, guys! Quick question: Would you be interested in a taglist for the AU's and fictions? If yes, please let me know!! Love you guys!<3 PART OF STRAWBERRY GIRL AU

No one believed when Jack said that you were his good luck charm. At first, Amara didn’t believe it either, but then she started to notice that it might be true.

Every time she kissed him, the devils won the game, but the days when she couldn’t attend the game and give him his kiss, they lost.

And later into it, the rest of the Devils noticed it too. And they made it their mission to not let Jack step on the ice before he got a kiss from her.

But now, with Jack being after surgery, they don’t know who their luck charm will be.

“Jack!” Jesper yells when he sees his friend entering the locker room. “Amara!” he yells even louder, happy to see their luck charm. Yeah, that is what they started to call her.

“Hey, Bratter.” Jack grins at him, wrapping his good arm around Amara’s shoulders.

“Hi Jesper,” Amara smiles back and snuggles deeper into Jack’s warm chest. “Hey, guys.” She waves back at the others as they stand by the entrance of the locker room.

“Came to look at us?” Nico asks, walking towards them and pulling Amara in for a hug. Amara melts in his embrace, closing her eyes for a brief moment just to enjoy the presence of her best friend.

“Yeah, decided to fly down to give you some moral help! You better win it, assholes!” he looks around the locker room, earning laughs from everyone.

“Plus, I wanted to give you your lucky kisses.” Amara smiles up at Nico and at Luke, who is the next one to pull her in for a hug, even though she lives with him.

“Oh, I’m gonna kiss the hell out of ya!” Dawson smirks at her, blowing her a kiss. The whole room explodes in laughter when they notice Jack’s face.

“I can’t wait!” Amara winks at him while she watches Jack’s surprised look from the corner of her eye.

“Are you serious, Berry?!” he asks in disbelief, while the entire locker room laughs at him.

“Course not, baby.” She grins up at him, walking back to him to snuggle in his chest.

Jack pulls her even closer, resting his hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and kisses her hair. “Good, 'cause you’re mine.”

“Oh, we know that, Jacky.” Pauly wiggles his brows at them.

“Anyway, we’re going upstairs to watch warm-ups, and then we’ll return so Amara can give you all your lucky kisses.” Amara looks around the locker room and enjoys the atmosphere there as Jack speaks, and they slowly make their way to the door. “But don’t think this will be happening next season. As soon as I’m on the ice, I am the only one she’ll be kissing.” He glares at the guys who are in there and walks out with Amara. But before they can exit the room, Amara turns and blows them a kiss.

 “Don’t be jealous, Jacky,” Amara nudges his side as they make their way to the family section.

“M’not,” he grumbles, but tightens his grip on her hand. “Just don’t like sharing, s’all.”

“I love you,” Amara smiles up at him and brings their hands to her mouth, kissing his knuckles.

He looks down at her, his eyes softening at the sight of his girl. “I love you.” Bending down, he kisses her lips with a smile.

They both make their way to their seats, greeting the staff on their way there.

“Shit,” Amara whines when she searches for her crocheting kit.

“What?” Jack asks with cocked brow.

“I forgot my crocheting in the car. Can I borrow your keys?” she looks at him with doe eyes.

“Yeah, be careful, okay?” he pulls out the keys, handing them to her. With a peck to his cheek, Amara takes the keys and jogs down the stairs and out to the parking lot to get her crocheting.

“Best at the end.” Amara grins at Dawson, who is standing right in front of her. Jack, who is standing a few feet from them, just rolls his eyes, but doesn’t look away.

“Of course. Gimme my kiss, babe!” he says, blush creeping up on his cheeks. Giggling, Amara grabs his cheeks and gives him a chaste kiss on his forehead.

“No, go out there and win the game, handsome!”

“Will do, Ma’am!” he salutes and spins her around, landing her in front of Jack. “Here you go, Rowdy. Wasn’t that bad to share her with us, was it?”

“Good thing this is the last time she’s doing it!” Jack grunts as he wraps his hands around Amara’s front and brings her flush against his hard chest. He dips his head down, planting a few kisses on her hair.

“But what about the playoffs?” Luke’s brows shot up in well-played confusion, and with a pout on his lips.

“No-”

“The games you’ll play here, I’ll be standing at this spot waiting for you!” Amara grins at him and bumps his fist.

Cheers interrupt in the locker room, as Amara laughs at them and Jack frowns. He doesn’t like that his girl is kissing other men.

“Oh, come on, babe. You know I love you. They are like family to me.” She murmurs in his hand and brings it to her lips to kiss his knuckles.

“I love you, too, Berry.”

“Okay, fellas!” Coach Keefe shouts as he walks inside the locker room, stopping in his tracks as he sees Jack and Amara. “Jack, Amara, hello,” he smiles at them, shaking their hands as a greeting.

“Sir,” Amara smiles back at him, before hiding in Jack’s chest.

“Anyway! Time for you to hit the ice, fellas!”

With shouting and high-fives, the Devil’s leave their locker room and Amara with Jack make their way back to their seats to watch the game.

“So, what’s for dinner tonight?” Jack asks, caressing Amara’s thigh as she watches the game and crochets yet another summer dress.

“Ah, not sure.” She shrugs, looking at him for a second. “Was thinking about salmon and fries or chicken wraps,” she adds. “But maybe I’ll wait for Luke to tell me what he’d like to eat.”

“Oh, Luke will eat everything you cook,” he chuckles, but the smile fades away when one of the Rangers shoots on the net. But Jacob, being the best goalie, saves it, and the game continues. “So don’t worry about him. More like what you’d like to eat.”

“I don’t know, I’m not really hungry or in the mood to eat,” she sighs, her gaze not leaving the ice, as the Devil’s moves toward the Rangers’ net. Timo makes a shot on the net, but the Rangers’ goalie saves it, and the sound of the whistle rings through the arena.

“Did you eat today?” he asks with a sigh and stands up, ready to get them some food.

Amara looks at him with a guilty smile and shakes her head. It’s hard for her with her ADHD to remember to take care of herself, and Jack knows it.

“I’ll bring you something to eat,” he says, shaking his head at her, leaving for the family room with food. He fills their plates with shrimps, vegetables, grilled potatoes, and mushrooms, smiling when he spots chicken nuggets.

Putting some on Amara’s plate, he leaves the room and returns to his seat. His eyes are glued on a guy, standing next to Amara, who doesn’t even care to hide how he’s checking her out.

His grip tightens around the plates as he reaches them and leans down to kiss the crown of Amara’s head.

“Got your food, baby,” he smiles at her, his eyes searching hers for something. He isn’t sure for what exactly, but for something.

“Thank you,” she mumbles back, reaching for his hand, interlocking their fingers. Amara then looks back at the guy, who is openly looking at her boobs. She clears her throat, earning his attention back.

Jack shrugs his jacket off, throwing it around her shoulder to shield her boobs from the guy's gaze.

“I guess you can go now,” Amara says, wrapping the jacket tightly around herself and looking back at Jack with a wide smile, taking the plate from him. “Oh, shrimps!” she exclaims happily, taking one in her mouth.

Jack smiles at her enthusiasm for shrimps, but his face tightens when he notices the guy still standing there.

“Need something else? Do you wanna sign something?” he asks, his brows knitted together in jealousy and confusion.

“Oh…ugh…no…sorry,” he stumbles over his words, jogging away.

“Who was it?” Jack asks, sitting back in his seat, taking a bite of the nugget.

“I have no idea. He just showed up, saying that my crocheting is cute.” She shrugged, her full attention now on her food and the game.

Jack just nods his head, relaxing in his seat and enjoying Amara’s presence and the game.

There are two remaining minutes of the last period, and every Devil’s fan is sitting on the edge of their seats. Devils lead by one, but Timo just got a two-minute penalty for slashing, and the Rangers look really happy about it.

They are now almost thirty seconds in the Devil’s defensive zone, attempting shot after shot on Jacob. But being the absolute king he is, he blocks every single one of them.

Jack grabs Amara’s hand when Trocheck skates towards the gate with a puck on his stick. Nico skates quickly to catch him, but it’s not helpful when he scores a goal a second later.

“Fuck,” Jack groans, falling back in his seat.

“They’ll win, don’t worry. They will score a goal in overtime. And if another kiss helps them, then I’ll be down there in a second.” Amara grins at him, bringing their interlocked hands to her mouth as she kisses the top of his hand.

“Yeah, let's go.” He stands up and lets Amara drag him down to the locker room. Coach is just giving the boys a speech when they get in, so when he’s done, Amara and Jack step in, grinning at them.

“Came to give you another good luck kiss.” She smiles shyly at them, watching carefully their reactions.

“Come here with them!” Luke yells, making grabby hands at Amara, causing giggles to slip from her mouth.

While Amara does her job of giving all of the Devils their lucky kiss, Jack talks with them and shares his ideas on how to play the next twenty minutes.

“Hey there, handsome,” Amara says in a flirtatious tone when she reaches Nico. Nico grins up at her as she stands between his legs. He places his hands on the back of her thighs, his eyes watching Jack.

It takes him a few seconds before he searches the room for Amara. But when Jack’s eyes land on Nico’s hands, which are lingering on the back of Amara’s thighs, he frowns.

“Is he looking?” she asks as giggles leave her mouth. She isn’t really sure why she wants to make him jealous; she’s just in the mood for jealous Jack and what will come as soon as they get home.

“Why are you even trying to make him jealous?” he asks, chuckling, when Jack's gaze doesn’t leave his hands.

“Probably want to rail him up,” she shrugs, turning her head to look at Jack with a sweet smile like nothing is happening. “You know, for tonight,” she wiggles her brows at Nico.

Nico makes a gagging sound, which makes her laugh even more.

“Okay, here’s your kiss,” she says, kissing his forehead. “You better win this, cap.”

“We will, Berry.”

“You done touching my girl?” A masculine arm wraps around Amara’s waist and pulls her away from Nico.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Hughes.” Nico grins at him.

“M’not jealous.” He denies.

“Okay, fellas! Let’s win this game!”

Cheering and the sound of a loud siren sound through the Prudential, as Dawson scores the winning goal.

Jack’s shouting in excitement, his not-injured hand curled around Amara’s shoulders, who is cheering with him.

“You really are our luck charm,” He shouts, bringing her in for a deep, passionate kiss. “Fuck I love you so much,” he groans in the kiss, but pulls away, not wanting people to stare at them. “But don’t think I don’t know what you were trying to do all night,” he frowns at her, causing giggles from her.

“I love you, too, Jacky,” she grins back at him, resting her head on Jack’s chest. “Let’s go to the locker rooms! I need to congratulate them!” she cheers, packing her crocheting, jumping up in place from happiness.

Jack doesn’t say anything, he just waits for Amara to pack her things before his hands sneak around her waist, so she doesn’t run from him too far, especially with thousands of people leaving the arena.

Moving his hand to her wrist, he interlocks their fingers and leads her to the locker room. When they arrive five minutes later, music blasts through the room, some of the boys are changing, a few of them are doing interviews, and the rest are just enjoying the atmosphere.

“Luck charm!!” Cody yells when he catches a glimpse of Amara’s long, dark hair at the entrance.

“Congratulations! I am so proud of all of you!” she shouts, hugging Cody tightly. Even though he’s been in Jersey for only a month, he took a spot in her heart.

“Thanks, Ara,” he murmurs, pulling away only for her to be pulled in a chain of hugs from the rest of the boys.

She congratulates every single one of them, praises them on how good they did, and just enjoys their presence.

“You coming to the bar?” Timo asks Jack as he comes out of the showers.

“Uhh,” Jack looks at Amara, who has a tired smile plastered on her lips. “I think we’ll head home. Amara looks tired, and my shoulder is starting to hurt a bit.” He explains, rubbing his shoulder in the process.

Timo nods his head, drying his hair with the towel.

“But you’ll come tomorrow for dinner, right?” Nico asks, pulling on his dress pants.

“Yeah, we will,” Jack turns around, noticing his girl standing behind him. “What am I supposed to bring?”

“Well, you don’t have to bring anything, but if you wouldn’t mind helping me with the food?” he asks with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” she grins.

“Now c’mere!” Nico and Timo pull her in a hug, giving her kisses on the cheeks.

“Thank you for the kisses.” Nico grins at her.

“Whenever you need one.” She wiggles her brows.

“You are such a tease.” Jack grunts, smacking Amara’s ass.

“But you love me.” She nudges him.

“Yeah, I do.”

“And I love you!” Luke shouts, throwing his hands around their shoulders. Grinning Jack looks over at Amara with so much love and pride. She just won them another game.

[baronessvonglitter]

Behind Closed Doors

husband's best friend!Joel Miller x f!reader | WC: 2.1K

Summary: Your husband comes home early and walks in on you with his best friend - Joel Miller.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Adultery. Cuckolding. Threat of murder/violence. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism. Breeding kink. If it's not your thing you don't have to read. Reader is married (see Adultery above) and able-bodied with female anatomy but no description otherwise. No y/n. If I've missed anything please let me know!

A/N: this is the follow up to hbf!Joel head canon which I promised but have been remiss in working on until today. It was practically finished already! 🙌🏼 I'm on a roll this week.. I'm just glad to be getting these ideas out and on paper your screen.

fun fact for today: I have never cheated on anyone. Does a kiss count as cheating? If so, then I change my answer and I did cheat once. Oops.

dividers by @strangergraphics 👑

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO HER??"

Your husband walks in to find you with his best friend Joel Miller. The guy he's been friends with since fourth grade, who played on the football team with him in junior high, who took the fall when he crashed his parents' car after a party one night, who was his wingman for years before he found you.

That same man is in his bedroom, fucking you, his lawful wife, while you're on all fours on the bed, taking his cock as if you've done so a dozen times before. He doesn't know that you actually have.

Joel falters slightly, his rhythm off a bit as he's taken by surprise by your husband's coming home early.

"Don't stop!" You squeeze your nails into Joel's thigh. He looks at your husband with an icy stare and gathers your hair in one hand to give it a little tug.

"I won't stop, darlin'.. he can watch me fuck ya." And you squeal as he snaps his hips against you, this time with a fury.

Your husband steps further into the room, his blood boiling as he yells at Joel with a voice that sounds like venom. "I SWEAR TO GOD, MILLER, GET OFF MY DAMN WIFE OR I'LL BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT!"

You groan in frustration. "Honey, get out!!"

Your husband is shocked to hear you yell at him like this, especially in the situation you're in.

"GET OFF MY WIFE RIGHT GOD DAMN NOW OR I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!"

"You're a bit too late for that," Joel says, his voice surprisingly even, before he starts to move in you again. His voice is like silk when he speaks next. "Darlin' did you want me to stop?"

"Please don't stop," you whine, pushing your hips back against his to keep him moving. Your actions and the pleading in your voice make him moan softly and his body reacts on its own. He looks back at your husband, making direct eye contact with him as he starts to move again.

"You hear that? She doesn't want me to stop."

You whimper as he moves again. The squishy sounds you make fill the room along with your sighs.

"YOU'RE A SICK SON OF A-" your husband yells, stepping forward as if to put a stop to it, but Joel gives him a warning glare.

"I wouldn't if I were you," he growls. "You come one step closer and you're gonna find out just how sick I can be."

His words make your stomach flutter. "Joel.. he's not gonna do anything."

But Joel doesn't take his eyes off the man as you speak, and he pulls your hair tighter. "You don't know what he wants to do.. he wants to kill me for what I'm doing with you right now."

"He won't kill you," you gasp at his hair pulling. "He won't kill you. He's in shock."

Your husband can't believe what he's hearing coming from you. He's shocked and angry. "SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" he yells suddenly, but Joel doesn't like that at all, and he snaps his head back at your husband. "Don't talk to her like that," he says firmly.

"Joel," you whine again. "Just ignore him. I need you.."

Joel looks at you again, seeing how frustrated and annoyed you are, and he can't ignore you. Especially when you say you need him. He looks at your husband again, his grip on your hair loosening. "She said she needs me," he says, almost challengingly.

With a huff you get up, straddling Joel. "So rude to keep me waiting," you murmur, riding him.

He looks up at you, his hands coming to automatically rest on your hips before he looks over at your husband, his eyes still carrying that possessive look. "You heard her," he says without taking his eyes off your husband, "You interrupted us."

"Get out!" you say, frustrated.

Your husband's veins almost pop out of his skin from how angry he is, but he doesn't leave, only looking between the two of you. "You two are SICK," he says in a disgusted tone.

"You're sick for staying and watching," you pant, leaning down to kiss Joel.

Your husband looks like he's about to explode, but then you lean down to kiss Joel and his eyes darken at the sight.

You swear you've never heard a deeper tone than when Joel growls, "Get out" in a firm and menacing voice. "Your wife and I are gonna finish what we started."

"Listen, honey," you try to reason as you slow down, grinding on Joel. "Joel's under our roof -- oh god! -- and while he's under our roof he's our guest -- ooh! right there -- and while he's our guest this is gonna happen."

Your husband looks absolutely bewildered by your reasoning, his face almost turning purple with restrained rage. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" he yells at you, but Joel has heard enough. "Keep your voice down. You're interrupting," he says firmly, gripping your hips a bit tighter, trying to get you to keep going.

You focus back on Joel, riding him the way he likes. "You feel so damn good.."

He groans softly and looks at you, his hands gripping your hips tighter, trying to get you to keep the pace on him a bit faster. Your husband is sitll in the room but Joel almost forgets about him when you ride him like that. "God, baby, you feel so goddamn good," he says, breathless. "You like ridin' me like this?"

"Yes! Oh you're so deep!" You ride him faster.

The way you ride him is almost maddening, and Joel can't do anything but let you take control of him. He groans and grunts lowly, the feeling of you on him making him almost lose his mind., He looks up at you like he owns you but then he suddenly realizes that your husband is still in the room watching, He looks over at him again, his eyes dark and possessive. "She likes ridin' me, don't she?"

Your husband's face is even redder now and looks like he's about to scream at you, but Joel interrupts him before he gets a chance to open his mouth.

"Keep your mouth shut," he says, his voice firm and low. "I'm still not done with her."

Your cries grow louder. You scream his name until you come.

"Goddamn baby, you are so perfect," he pants, his hands digging into your hips a bit harder, as if he's holding onto you for dear life. Your husband looks beyond horrified, like he can't process what he's seeing and can barely keep it together when Joel looks over at him again. "Her man doesn't like it when I make her moan like that," he says with a smirk.

You're still squeezing him with your aftershocks, whimpering and sweating. Joel is so close behind you, almost completely lost in you and how you look and sound on top of him, trying to keep yourself up. He squeezes your hips as you ride out your aftershocks and he groans lowly as he feels you still squeezing around him. His eyes meet yours and he give you a possessive look, the need to claim you written all over his face.

He looks over at your husband, who's still watching you from the corner of the room, and speaks in a low, huskier tone. "You see her? I bet you've never seen her come like that. Have you ever even made her come?"

Your husband is speechless, looking like he wants to yell at the both of you, but he can't talk. Joel sees the look on his face and he smirks before looking back at you again. He suddenly grabs your hair as he thrusts up into you and makes you look at him, his voice low and deep, a challenge in his tone.

"Who do you belong to, baby?"

"You, Joel." you whimper. "I belong to you."

He growls lowly at your reply, the possessive need in him taking over him completely. He knows your husband is still watching but he doesn't care. He wants you to say those words, he wants you to look at him and tell him you're his.

He pulls your hair a bit harder and puts his other hand on your hip, pulling you down on him again. "That's right, baby, you're mine," he says in a low growl.

Another orgasm crashes through you as you're stuffed full of him. You coming again, squeezing him so perfectly, is almost enough to make him explode right then and there. He groans lowly again, his voice like gravel as he feels you squeezing down on him. He leans his head back, almost like he's fighting the orgasm, trying to prolong the moment and make it last.

"Fuck, baby, you're going to make me come," he groans and then looks at your husband, taunting him.

"Want you to come, Joel. Want you to fill my pussy," you whine.

Your words and how they come out in a needy, impatient whimper are like music to his ears. His head is clouded by the need to claim you and make you his. He looks at you again, his eyes almost feral, then he looks at your husband once more. "You hear that?" he says huskily. "She wants me to fill her up."

Your husband looks like he's about to combust, his veins visible in his neck from how angry he is. Joel just looks at him, his eyes dark and a smirk on his face, his breathing still heavy and his voice huskier than usual. "Does that make you upset?" he asks, his tone mocking.

Your husband is in shock and struggling to find words. but before he can speak Joel suddenly looks back at you, his eyes darkened even more. "You want me to fill you up, baby?" his hands digging harder into your hip. "You want me to come inside you?"

"Fill me up," you beg. "Put a baby in me," you say, knowing it can't happen anyway but you have to shock your husband.

The idea of knocking you up makes everything in Joel feel primal. He looks at you, his eyes almost feral, possessiveness radiating from him. "You want me to breed you, baby? You want me to fill you up and give you a baby?"

"Yes," you moan. "Want you to fill me full.. let my husband watch you get me pregnant."

When Joel glances at your husband he's almost surprised to find him with his cock out, pumping it, spitting on it to make it glide.

"Yeah, fuck your fist. That's all you're gonna get while I'm here," Joel grunts to your husband. Then he flips you over, his hips housed between your thighs as he slams into you, relishing the loud cries coming from your mouth.

"Ain't gonna fill ya until you come for me, baby," he says, nearly gasping for air. "Gotta earn my cum, baby. Gotta earn it so I can put a little Joel in your belly."

His thumb circles your clit, moving clockwise then counter-clockwise, gentle and insistent unlike the way he's moving inside you, hips pistoning as he works you into another frenzied orgasm, wrenching one from you as easily as he always has.

Tightening and pulsating, lightning runs through your veins as you let go with a loud curse, body arching up, taking in every blessed inch of him. "Good girl," Joel coos, slamming into you until he's at the edge, and then he turns to see your husband, still crying and pumping his useless cock with his fist. With a snarl, Joel maintains eye contact as he pumps you full of his cum, fucking you until the last drop is deposited deep inside you, and when he finally pulls out he uses his tip to softly push it back in when it starts to dribble.

"There, baby, so glad I finally got to cum inside you.." he places a kiss on the corner of your mouth, smiling as he sees your blissed-out expression. As an afterthought he glances at your husband, his fist full of come that spilled over as he watched you two.

"Not that I don't love usin' that pretty little mouth to swallow up all I've got," Joel adds fuel to the fire. "Or that tight little ass. I love fillin' up that tight lil' hole.."

With a smirk he rolls off you, gently caressing your belly, imagining it swollen, jiggling with baby kicks and your tits getting big with milk. "From now on I'm the only one who gets to come inside you, darlin'. Gotta make sure it sticks."

tagging those interested from the head canon: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @everybodylovedcontractors @probablyreadinsmut

@tateypots @eviispunk @thedilfdiaries @lanielooo21 @sunnytuliptime

@cxrsed-angel @joelalorian @myownwholewildworld @lilac-boo

@sawymredfox @aurorawritestoescape @604to647

@chewingbunny @sighofthetimez @coolranchdavidian

@tammythr @notgoingtomalta @amyispxnk @lokischocolatefountain

@megangovier @almostempty @tuquoquebrute @jinxispunk

@hotgirlbedtimescenarios @frannyzooey @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@rabreu1414 @inept-the-magnificent @letsgobarbs @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu

and if I've forgotten any please forgive me 😅

[heartyluv]

‧₊⚡︎ 🖇️° 🐍 ✘⚠︎

Note: Creds to @/kodaswrld for the vine divider and @/omi-resources for the consent label!

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Warning: Smut, Caleb is toxic in this but please understand my luvlys, this is fiction and behavior like this is not to be accepted/tolerated in real life!

Word Count: 2,332

Summary: Caleb doesn’t like to argue with you. It’s why he doesn’t, even when you have the right to be upset with him. Maybe he should just show you how “sorry” he is.

Caleb/Reader

Caleb watches your pretty face contort with so many emotions, simply admiring you with a suppressed smirk because of your animated movements. You were mad at him, absolutely furious, and you had every right to be, yet he couldn’t find himself regretting what he had done. And he never did, not one bit. Not when it came to things he felt were right for you.

“This is the third time you’ve made a guy feel like he has to stay away from me because of whatever bullshit you’re saying to them! How many times do I have to tell you, Caleb? That’s not your place!”

He wanted to retort, wanted to tell you that it absolutely was his place to drive off any man who got too close. Not because he was insecure and thought you’d leave him. No, you could argue and be mad at him for anything. One thing was always certain—you and him would always be together. He made that vow to you they day you two became a couple and he’d let no one, not even you, break that promise.

“How the hell did you even find him?” You really wanted to know, but in all honesty, your best bet—Caleb said something to him the night he picked you up from class. He said he had to run to the store down the street really quick, leaving you in the car for no more than five minutes. Somehow, Caleb must’ve found him and threatened the poor man in that small amount of time.

“He wouldn’t even tell me what you said. How crazy did you sound?” You question him more, but you know your boyfriend. Unfortunately, it’s one of the things that drew you to him like a moth to a flame. He is absolutely all about you. He is so smitten by your every breath, your every thought, that he would never hesitate to attempt to set the sun with his bare hands if you asked him to.

“You’re seriously just going to stand there and not say anything?” You cross your arms, already exhausted from the tirade you started the moment you walked in the door. You had met the guy, Nate, at the nighttime pottery class you go to with one of your girlfriends. You went every week and he was always there alone, so you and your friend saw no harm in letting it become a little group thing.

You remember telling Caleb about him, how sweet and kind he was, and didn’t think anything of it when he just sat there in silence, nodding his head as he listened to you. What Caleb was really doing was digesting and trying to figure out who this man was and how to keep him from you. And he did just that.

Caleb could only speak for himself when he thinks of how he was when he first experienced the perfection that was you. He was so enthralled with your smile, the way you were so accommodating and loving to everyone, and how you made any bad day feel like one that was worth it. And he wanted that all to be for him, wanted you all for himself.

There was no way he was the only one who saw that, who could have experienced that with you. So, of course he has to make sure no other man other than family, could have access to your light in the way that he does. If Caleb was so in love with you at first glance, he knows that other men would feel the same.

It was after the guy told you, “I don’t think your boyfriend wants us being friends”, tonight in the class, that made you leave immediately. You apologized profusely to him and your friend, leaving abruptly to confront Caleb who has been nothing but nonchalant.

Caleb’s eyes soften as he looks into yours like a puppy. He walks toward you, hands out as he goes to place them on your hips. You turn your head away from him, trying to ignore the small kiss he presses to your cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles as he presses multiple in the same spot. He wasn’t sorry, but he doesn’t need to make himself believe that. Just you.

You pull back your face, not your body though, because Caleb has made you incapable of doing so. You keep your attention on a random wall as his kisses start to trail down the side of your neck.

“You know how I get.” His smooches tickle your skin like a fluffy feather.

“That doesn’t make it right, Caleb. You make the mere thought of having guy friends feel impossible because you get so…whatever the hell this is! And you know what? It’s so fucking crazy that I don’t know what to do with you. It’s not fair to me—”

He lets your words fade in the background as he focuses on distracting you. You’ve threatened him with many things, things you’ve clearly never went through with, like separating, taking breaks. But he’s so addictive and knows just how to make all your concerns and hesitations turn into nothingness when he starts to make your body feel good.

You’re still speaking, your body tense with so much irritation as he grabs your ass and nods as if he’s hanging on to every word. He smirks against your skin when you start to stutter while he gently licks your neck. It’s because you’re not stopping him that he knows he already has you where he wants you.

“Please forgive me, princess,” he coos as he feels you start to melt. Your hand rests on his shoulder while he starts to suck on your skin. “I only want to keep you safe, is all. You know that.”

You breathe out a small whimper as he presses his semi hard cock against you, feeling him stir even between the clothes you both wear. But, you’re quick, pulling away from him. Caleb isn’t shocked. You have moments where you gain your senses back for a brief moment and separate yourself from him, but he never lets it be for long.

He chuckles to himself, waiting a little bit before following you to your shared bedroom. You stand in front of the large mirror that’s attached to your dresser, looking at yourself as you remove your jewelry, jeans, and top. Caleb feels his cock jump at how your flesh ripples so effortlessly with every little movement.

Your boyfriend comes up from behind, wrapping his arms around you as you squirm to be released.

“Let me go, Caleb,” you try and say sternly.

“I want to apologize. You’re right, I did say something to him and I was out of line.” He looks into your eyes through the mirror.

“You say the same shit every time,” you roll your eyes.

“If my words aren’t believable, let me show you how much I need you to forgive me.”

“You want me to forgive you, but you’re not sorry for what you did?” you challenge.

“I’m sorry that I’ve made my pretty girl upset. It’s never my intention to do so.”

“Yet it’s always your result,” you huff.

“Please,” he says softly as he starts to pull at the waistband of your panties. Your pussy throbs in them at how he breathlessly apologizes, even if you know he’s not doing it for the right reason.

“I want to make you feel better, want to make you feel good.” He pulls your panties down and again, it’s because you don’t stop him, because you look into his eyes through the mirror with yours so full of lust as the panties glide down your thighs, then your legs, and swiftly falling to your feet, that he knows you want what he’s aching to give you.

“Will you let me show you how sorry I am?” he grinds his clothed cock against your bare ass.

Your clit is begging to be touched, tasted, anything. You’re supposed to be mad, angry. Hell, you are, but you’re desperate for him more than anything.

“Turn around, love. I want you to see what you do to me. Want you to take me out.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, begging your legs to keep you upright as you turn around to look at him directly. His soft hair falls into his eyes, making the man you are just so furious with seem so innocent.

You look down at his black sweatpants, pressing your thighs together because you know what’s waiting for you. You could almost cry needy tears just thinking about it.

Caleb is your first everything. First date, kiss, boyfriend, and the first and only man you’ve ever had sex with. And his cock is the only one you want to know, even if he can seem erratic and batshit crazy. It’s not just because he’s your first. It’s because he’s so thick, so made for you. No matter how many times he fucks you, you’ll never get used to how deep he gets, how well you wrap around him so tightly that you can’t stop clenching. The thought of him ever giving it to anyone else makes you feel just as insane as he can be.

You push past his underwear, taking his cock into your hand. He gasps, then licks his lips when you squeeze him ever so gently.

“Take me out,” he commands this time, making you smile.

“Should I? Maybe you don’t deserve to feel good,” you tease, rubbing your thumb over his tip and feeling his sticky precum smear.

“Don’t play devil’s advocate,” he says lowly, the heaviness of his tone making your cunt tighten around nothing. “That pretty pussy of yours wants me inside.”

“Two things can be true,” you say as you stroke him, just a little bit.

He hisses, his head falling back, putting his strong neck on display. He looks back down at you with a knowing smile and you don’t have even a millisecond to react when he turns you around and bends you over on top of the dresser.

He looks down between you two as you breathe desperately, knowing his impatience has been worn incredibly thin. He spreads your legs with his foot, one hand on your hip and the other works his pants before looking back up. Then, he stares at you at the same time he slides inside your tight pussy.

Your eyes start to flutter shut at how you stretch for him, but he tugs on your hair to keep your attention

“Eyes on me. Look at me when I tell you how sorry I am.”

You cry out as he slams into you with strong thrusts, feeling his cock slip in and out of you with determination as his length kisses your cervix just right. The lewd sound of your slick cunt taking his cock is enough to make you come already.

“I’m gonna do better, baby,” he claims as he ruts into you. “You believe me, right? Gonna be so good for you…”

The way his balls slap against your clit makes you feel dizzy at the indescribable pleasure. One hand snakes up to your face as he presses against your back, forcing you up some as you feel the material of his tank top rub against you. You arch your back to accommodate his powerful onslaught when grabs your jaw, making you watch your fucked out face in the mirror.

“Tell me you forgive me,” he licks your ear. “Tell me while you watch how pretty you look when you soak me with your cum.”

“I forgive you, Caleb,” you mewl, not even bothering to fight as you watch the way your tits jump in your bra. His thumb finds its way to your mouth, sliding inside as you suck on it while your core sqeezes him.

“You accept my apology, princess?” he coos mockingly, knowing how stupid his dick makes you. “This cock is yours just as much as this pussy is mine. You understand?”

“I do, I promise.” Your cries are muffled around his digit, feeling your impending orgasm tighten in your belly.

“We’ll be good for each other, yeah?” His hips never falter, even when you feel him pulse inside of you because of how close he is.

You nod profusely, letting him leave sloppy wet kisses down your neck as you finally tense, finally start to become jello in his hold. He shucks on your skin, the mix of slight pain and immense pleasure almost making you dizzy.

“I got you, pretty baby. Come on your cock.” The way he gives you such ownership over him, the way he’s so vocal about it, makes you cream all around him. He’s right behind you, his hips finally stuttering before you feel his seed pump into your hungry cunt. You take every drop, relishing in how he holds you by the throat so tenderly.

He kisses your back when he finally releases you. You bend over fully again to rest on the dresser.

“We’re okay?” he asks sweetly that it makes you want to yell at him all over again because you know he thinks this is a game. But, you offered no effort to show how serious you were when you let him fuck you despite knowing he should genuinely feel bad for what he did.

You wish you could say you want to make him sweat, but you truthfully aren’t mad about the situation anymore, even though you know you should be. It’s like he legitimately removed the emotions from you with his cock. You’re more irritated with yourself for caving so quickly every time he gets to putting those lips on you.

“For now,” you answer simply.

He smiles, leaning down to kiss down your spine. “I have plenty more apologies that I can give you to make it forever.”

You roll your eyes when he grips your hips, knowing that deep down, you never want him to change.

“I bet you do.”

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 29

Word Count- 8.3k

Warnings- swearing, death, and canon violence

PSA- THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF RACISM, HOMOPHOBIA, DEATH, AND ABUSE OF GAY POC. 

“You’re a bitch.”

“Good to see you too, My Love.”

I let out an almost animalistic growl as I turned over to Alastair, who was sitting beside me in the driver’s seat of his new Porsche. When I saw him after all this time, standing in the Mikaelsons’ foyer, I was surprised and slightly happy to see him, now that I remember everything he had done in the past few months, all I am is pissed. It doesn’t help that he gave me puppy eyes and pretty much begged me to let him drive me home since I didn’t have any way to get home, and oddly enough, Elijah was off doing whatever Elijah does in the shadows, and Klaus was plotting…again. I had told Alastair I’d rather walk, and then he said if I tried that he’d just follow me to make sure I got home safe, and he knows I hate walking. 

I’ve really got to stop giving my secrets away to strangers who end up being vampires.

“So you’re going to talk to me?”

I don’t turn away from the window, “Nope.”

“You technically just did.” I’m going to pull out my gun.

The ride continues in silence until we reach the gravel driveway of my house, which seems so much tinier after spending so long in the Mikaelson mansion. Mom’s car is in the driveway, parked along mine. 

Without another word, I hop out of the car as soon as Alastair puts it into park. 

“Y/n! Please just give me a second to explain myself, alright!”

“Nope.”

I hop up the stairs as I hear the vampire trail me. 

“You don’t understand why I had to do what I did,” The yearning was clear in his voice. 

I whip around and glare at him, “Then explain to me why?! Explain to me why you pretended to be my friend all this time, just for Klaus! Why are you so loyal to him!?”

Alastair rubs a hand over his face and then gestures with the same hand towards the staircase of the porch. With a dramatic huff I place my ass on the top step and Alastair sits on the one right below it. 

“I’m gay.”

“No surprise there.”

Alastair sends me a dirty look, and I respond with a raised brow. Obviously, I knew he was gay. He’d told me plenty of times when we would hang out together, especially when we talked about Supernatural and how he’d like to do certain things to Dean Winchester. 

“What I meant was… I’ve been gay for a long time. Like 200 years long. And being gay in this century is hard enough, can you imagine how hard it was for someone like me 300 years ago? I’m literally a gay black man, Y/n, times were and are hard for me.”

A wave of sadness washes over me at his words, and I nod for him to continue. 

“Even though I had to hide who I was… that didn’t stop me from falling in love,” A soft, sorrowful smile comes across his face, “August. His name was August and he was the most beautiful man I had ever laid my eyes on. And not to brag, but he thought the same of me. We kept our relationship a secret, hidden in the shadows. Meeting behind alleys, or whatever dark corner we could find, even if it was only for a single moment. Any moment with him was enough.”

He’s quiet now, as if he’s reliving the memories.

“We met up on a Friday night. He was in my embrace when the first hit came. The next thing I knew, a group of white men were kicking us. It went on for so long that I didn’t even know at what moment August had taken his last breath. One of the men had his boot on my throat, and I waited with bated breath for my final moments, but the next thing I heard was screaming. At first I thought it was my August, but when the man had moved his foot off my throat and I was able to turn over,” Alastair stops and I know what he must have seen, “Anyways, my eyes were practicality swollen shut from all the hits I had taken but I still made out the man ripping the others apart. I was about to lose consciousness when I felt something warm spill down my throat. A few hours later, I awoke and saw the same man sitting before me. He told me that August was dead and so weren’t the men that killed him, except one, who had run away during the bloodshed. He had told me that he could make all the memories go away and I’d forget this ever happened…Or I could become something no one could ever lay a hand on again.”

Alastair’s solemn face morphs into one of anger, “I chose the latter. Not being able to see the Sun was kind of a bummer then, but it didn’t stop me from finding the last man who took my August from me,” Alastair turns to look at me, “I ripped him apart. Tore him piece by piece. And it felt good…until it didn’t. Until I realized no matter how many people I killed, it still wouldn’t bring back the love of my life. That’s when Klaus found me again and took me under his wing, showed me control, and got me a daylight ring. As years went on, we kept in touch; he’d ask for a favor here and there, and I’d do it. Not because he made me, but because I wanted to. He had saved my life that day and then given me a new one. So when I got the call from him that only he trusted me to watch over his soulmate…I knew I had too. I know what it was like to lose the love of your life. I didn’t want that for my friend either. I had expected to be watching over some hot-headed nuisance like Klaus since y'all are bound, but… I didn’t expect to meet you. I remember the first time I saw you,” He laughs to himself, and I find myself smiling, “You were with Elena, and you guys were outside the Grill drinking Shirley Temples and then you proposed to see who could down theirs first,” He raises an eyebrow at me and I nod.

“And I won…”

“And then you threw it up in the bush,” Alastair's laugh is melodic, “And I remember watching you with…honestly disgust, but then you did something that made me pause. You laughed. You laughed so hard you fucking threw up again, and then Elena started laughing and you both were on the ground looking bat shit crazy next to a pile of vomit while passerbys gave you dirty looks. And at that moment, I knew you weren’t like him, like Klaus. You weren’t some copy…you were you. A girl thrown into a world that she wasn’t ready for, and I knew that I needed to make sure that world didn’t ruin that laugh of yours. And then a few weeks went by and I compelled myself a job as a bartender, and before I knew it, you weren’t just important to Klaus…you became important to me, too. You and you’re dumbass,” He points to me sarcastically, “moodswings.”

“So why did you leave?”

Alastair rolls his eyes, “Your boytoy got jealous. It must’ve been the night when you were on the verge of a panic attack, and all my immortal life I’ve always stood by Klaus’ side, but in that moment when he told me to leave you…I couldn’t. It was the first time in over 100 years I had chosen someone over him. And it didn’t help the way you clung to me, even when you were supposed to be mad at me. So he shipped me off to Denver to watch over your brother’s friend. He called me a few days ago and told me it was time to come home and that his brother would be taking my spot.”

I shake my head from the information overload, “Wait, you were stalking Jeremy?!”

“Stalking…watching over,” He makes a thoughtful face. 

“So, where does this leave us now?”

Alastair stands up and brushes himself off, and reaches a hand down for me to take. I think it over for a second and then place my hand in his, which makes a soft smile fall onto his face.

“That’s up to you. I’m here for the foreseeable future. And I kind of miss my work buddy, so…”

“For fucks sake,” I mutter before throwing my hands over Alastair’s shoulders and he quickly wraps his arms around me.

“You missed me, loser. Admit it.”

“Never.”

We part, and I give him a sideways grin, “Thank you for telling me everything, and I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

Alastair slightly shoves me and then shrugs, “Just don’t be going around town spilling my secrets, alright.”

I do a crossing-my-heart motion. 

“Y/n?”

My light mood instantly shifts as I hear my mother’s voice come from behind me. 

Alastair and I both turn to the dark-haired woman who stands at the front door with a blue robe wrapped around her. 

“Oh, Alastair! We haven’t seen you around here in some time,” My mother smiles at the man next to me, and he nods.

“I was away,” His now curt voice makes my mother nod.

“Well, Y/n’s got school in the morning, so she should be going to sleep now.”

I roll my eyes at my mother and then turn to Alastair, who is glaring at my mother. Ever since I told him a bit about my childhood, he’s always had disdain towards the woman. 

“Bye, loser,” Alastair places a kiss on the top of my head and then makes his way down the stairs. 

“Bye, Alastair.”

I turn back towards my mother and then push past her and go into the house.

“Why are you home so late, and whose clothes do you think you’re wearing?”

“Like you actually care,” I say as I continue to walk towards my room, but still hear her following after me.

“I am your mother and you’ll answer me when I talk to you,” She yells, and I whip around towards her. 

“Why don’t you just go back to work, Mom. That’s what you’re good at. Trust me, Theo and I are quite fine without you here. I’ve got the whole mother and father thing down.”

My harsh words stop her and give me the chance to open my door and shut it in her face. I sigh as I place my forehead on the frame of the door.

I hear a cough, and I whip around in surprise to see Theo lounging on my bed.

“Welcome home, Harlot.”

—--

“Theo, we are not having this discussion… GET IN THE CAR!”

Theo has been on a tangent about why I wasn’t home for a day, and then proceeded to come home in men’s clothing. He even camped out in my room so he could be all dramatic and catch me as soon as I came home. I eventually got him out of my room by grabbing him by the scruff of the neck like a mom cat does with her kittens. But of course, as soon as I was ready to be out the door for school this morning, Theo was camped out waiting for me. 

“I’ll get in the car if you tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened, you freak!”

Theo, who is standing by the passenger door of my car, crosses his arms, “So why’d you come home a day late in men’s clothes?”

“None of your business.”

Theo groans, “C’mon! Ok, how about this, you tell me which one it was and then I’ll get into the car.”

I narrow my eyes at my brother, “You do realize how weird this is, right, Theo?! You’re my little brother, we’re not supposed to be talking about this stuff.”

Theo thinks to himself for a moment before nodding, “Ok yeah, but c’mon. Jeremy’s gone, and I’ve got nothing better to do than hear you’re fucked up life.”

Damn.

“Just tell me.”

“Nope,” I open the driver’s side door and step in, “Theo if you don’t get in right now I’m leaving your ass.”

Theo doesn’t move until I turn on the car, and he’s quickly getting into his seat.

“Damn fine,” He’s quiet for 3 seconds, “So….”

“Shut the fuck up Theo.”

—-

The rest of the school day consists of me avoiding Theo and Rebekah. Theo, who was somehow lurking around every corner, and Bekah whom I had every class with. She kept staring at me with a knowing smirk, and whenever I told her not to start, she would shrug and then ask me to help her set up for the upcoming decade dance, to which I denied each time. 

Caroline found me as she was leaving school and said she was going to be having a little talk with me soon, since she heard from Bonnie that I was at the Mikaelson’s looking, in Bonnie’s words, “perfectly fucked.” Caroline said she was pissed she wasn’t the first to find out but after she runs some errand she’s doing she’s going to have a chat with me. Great.

—-

The next morning, I awoke to a loud knock at my bedroom door. 

“Theo, I swear to God!”

“It’s me,” A soft, feminine voice comes from the other side, “It’s Elena.”

Oh Jesus. 

“Come in.”

I sit up in bed as I watch the doppelganger slowly enter my room with a shy smile. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

We both watch each other until Elena clears her throat, “How have you been?”

“What do you want, Elena?”

Elena frowns, “What do you mean?”

I give her an annoyed look, “I haven’t seen you in weeks, after you all continuously tried killing my soulmates and their family, and all of a sudden you’re here. Why?”

Elena is quiet as she walks over and sits on my desk chair, “I missed you.”

I give her an annoyed look, and she shakes her head.

“I swear I do. And I promise that I would never do anything to hurt you. Yes, I know that we tried to kill Klaus, but as soon as I found out that it would kill you, we stopped. We’ve been trying to find a way to break the bond you have with him and Elijah to free you.”

“What if I don’t want the bond to be broken?”

Elena pauses and gives me a weird look, “Y/n…what do you mean? Klaus, he’s a monster, he killed me! How could you want to be with him?”

“Didn’t Damon kill Jeremy?”

Elena flinches back in shock, “Well… yes, but he’s alright now!”

“And aren’t you?”

Elena stands up and shakes her head, “Why are you acting like this?! We’re trying to help you.”

“Elena, I don’t want to be helped! I don’t need it! I like Elijah and I like Klaus, even though they both get on my fucking nerves… I-,” I pause and run a hand over my face as I stand up, “Do you not even realize that at just the thought of losing the bond, I feel like I’m literally going to die? I know what Klaus did to you and I’ll never forgive him for it, but…you guys can’t act like the Mikaelsons are the only people who have done wrong in this town.”

“Y/n, I didn’t know…”

“Of course you didn’t,” I raise my hands in exhaustion, “How could you? You never call or text anymore! All you guys care about is killing the people who have actually given me the time of day in the past weeks. You all were supposed ot be my friends, but at this point, it seems like the only times I hear from you are in passing moments or when you need information about Klaus. I’m sick of it, and I think you should leave.”

“Y/n..”

“Get out, Elena!”

Elena flinches at my outburst but still nods as she makes her way to my door. Her hand is on the knob when she turns back towards me. 

“Damon told me what he said to you,” My shoulders tense at her words, “He was wrong. You are worth fighting for, and I plan to fight for our friendship and winning back your trust. And I told him this,” She pauses and cringes, “After I punched him in the face for saying that.”

I don’t say anything, which makes Elena frown and then sigh, “Well, the decade dance is tonight and I’ve got to go set up with Caroline. I would ask you to join, but I know how much you hate stuff like that. But… if you do end up coming tonight, save me a dance, ok?”

With those final words, she walks out of my room. 

“And you say Jeremy and I are gay for one another,” I hear my younger brother say as he enters my room.

“Theo screw off.”

—-

“I’m really liking this idea of having supernatural in-laws,” Theo says as he enters the living room of the Mikaelsons.

He walks into the room wearing a 20s-style suit he borrowed from Kol since they’re around the same size. 

“Looked better on me,” Kol, who’s back from stalking Jeremy, mutters from beside me.

Theo lets out a loud laugh as he admires himself in the mirror. 

“Please, as if anyone could pull this off better than I.”

Kol says something in return, and then Theo responds, and their bickering continues on as I stand up and walk out of the living room.

I walk into the entryway, careful not to trip with the pumps I’m currently wearing, courtesy of Rebekah, who is nowhere to be found. 

“Beautiful.”

I turn towards the stairs where Elijah stands in a dark 20s style suit that only makes him even hotter. If possible. 

I brush my fingers over the beaded dark blue flapper dress I'm wearing and shrug, “Rebekah has good taste.”

“Although the dress is nice,” Elijah walks over to me and smiles, “I was talking about the woman wearing it.”

My face heats up at his smooth words, and I roll my eyes, trying to cover it up.

“I don’t want to go to this thing. You’re sister is making me, and yet she’s nowhere to be found.”

Elijah's face contorts into one of slight suspicion, “Yes, that is odd, but my guess is she is already at the dance, preparing finishing touches and yelling at the poor workers.”

Elijah's words settle in me, but I can’t fight the odd sinking feeling I have that tells me something bad is about to happen. 

“Just enjoy tonight, Elskan. I won’t leave your side.”

I sigh and smile at Elijah, “You know you don’t have to go to this thing, right?”

Elijah smirks, “And leave you alone in a room full of hormonal teenage boys looking like this,” His eyes, filled with something dark, travel down my frame, “Never in a thousand years.”

“Oh, Brother, she wouldn’t be alone, she has me,” Klaus’s sarcastic voice comes from around the corner as he enters the room wearing a white suit. Good Lord.

I laugh as Elijah rolls his eyes and turns to his younger brother, “Yes, Niklaus.”

Klaus’s smirk softens as he turns his attention away from his brother and over to me. He doesn’t say anything as he strides towards me, grabs my hand, and presses a soft kiss to it. 

“Breathtaking, Astin Min.” 

“Um, I think not, Dog,” Klaus is quickly pushed away from me by Theo, who has just entered the room with Kol.

“Call me dog again, Child and I-”

“Niklaus, please,” Elijah says tiredly.

Klaus glares at Theo but doesn’t say anything else, making Theo smirk. 

“Knock it off,” I slap Theo in the back of the head, and he screams dramatically.

He quickly runs over to Kol.

“Tell me she didn’t ruin my hair!”

Kol assesses the damage and then fixes one singular hair, “Still looks horrible.”

“I take it back, I hate this family…Except Rebekah. I like her. Why couldn’t you have been mated to her instead of these things,” Theo points a finger at Elijah and Klaus, who both look tired of Theo’s antics. 

“Theo, be nice. They’re the ones who gave you that suit you’re wearing.”

Theo turns his glare at me, “Only because you called them an hour ago asking them to. You know she doesn’t need you two tonight, right? Kol and I are perfectly fine protecting her.” 

“I still can’t believe I’m being made to go to this bloody thing,” Kol mutters to himself.

Klaus takes a step forward, and I place a hand on his chest to stop him, “Enough! All of you. Everyone get your asses in the car, right now.”

No one moves. 

“Fine, then I’ll go by myself. Maybe I’ll see if Matt Donovan wants to dance.”

As soon as I walk to the front door of the mansion, I hear all four of them follow behind me. Idiots.

—-

The most annoying car ride of my life is finally over as we pull into the parking lot of the high school. Dozens of students pile into the school, all wearing different assortments of 20s clothing. 

Where tf is everyone finding these old ass clothes?

Elijah gets out of the driver’s seat and makes his way over to the passenger side door to open it for me.

“Thank you, kind sir,” I smile at him, and he gives me the cutest grin ever. Almost makes you forget he’s literally a serial killer.

“Get me out of here!”

I turn to see Kol, Klaus, and my brother all push past each other to get out of the back seat, where they were all squished in together.  

“God,” Kol stands out of the car and brushes himself off, “I’d rather go back into the coffin than ever ride with you lot again.”

Klaus, who steps out behind him, glares at his little brother, “Arrangements can be made for that to happen.”

Kol just smirks at his brother and then walks over to me and grabs my shoulder, “Can’t dagger me, brother, Y/n said so.”

“I literally didn’t, but ok.”

Kol shoots me a glare, “We had a deal, Little doll.”

I roll my eyes, “Just keep an eye on you know who tonight.”

Kol and I both turn our attentions to Theo as he falls out of the call, landing on his ass.

Kol sighs, “Maybe the dagger would be easier.”

Kol shakes his head and then walks over to my brother, picks him up, and pulls him toward the school’s entrance, “C’mon, Little Nuisance.”

I watch with a small smile as Theo continues to talk Kol’s ear off as they enter the school.

“I don’t like that pairing.”

I look over to Klaus, who narrows his eyes.

Elijah responds, “No one does.”

A cold wind sends chills down my spine, “Well, you two can stand out here, but I’m going in.”

With that, I begin walking towards the entrance. It’s not even a moment later that I feel both brothers grab each of my arms. 

“You guys do realize how many people are going to talk about me entering the dance with two dates, right?”

I see Klaus and Elijah peer at one another, and then Klaus shrugs, “I’ve never been one to shy away from public attention.”

—-

Loud music and bright lights fill my senses as all three of us enter the dance. The gym is decorated with red and white decorations, and the entire floor is covered with people dancing to swing music. 

“How…human.”

Klaus’s remark makes me smirk. 

“You made it!” 

Caroline’s loud voice comes from beside me, and I turn to see her dressed in a beautiful flapper gown. She looks at me for a moment before her attention turns to the men by my side.

“Um…hi,” Caroline says less enthusiastically. 

“They’ve promised to behave,” I speak for both men, “No bloodshed tonight. They’re just here as my dates.”

Caroline seems to ease up with that. 

“Ok cool…in that case, I need to ask a favor,” She reaches a hand out for me to take, and I turn to Elijah and Klaus. Elijah gives me an encouraging smile whilst Klaus looks annoyed. I still grab Caroline’s hand and let her guide me through the crowd of people. 

“What’s going on?”

Caroline brings me to a table full of snacks, “Tyler’s here.”

“Oh.”

I remember bits of Klaus telling me how he was going to kill his hybrid for leaving him, so him being here isn’t the best idea. 

“Is there any way you could ask Klaus to just give us tonight?”

I let out a sigh, “I don’t know if he’ll listen to me, Care.”

Caroline gives me a look, “Seriously Slut! That man would burn everything in his path if it meant you’d never feel cold. You walk all those Mikaelsons like dogs.”

I roll my eyes at her antics, “Fine. I’ll ask.” 

I begin to walk away, but she quickly pulls me into a hug, “Sorry! I know you don’t like touching, but I’m just so happy. And trust me when I say tomorrow you’re going to give me all the dirty details about your trysts with those brothers,” Caroline beams at me, “God, I can’t believe I just said that! My baby is growing up and spreading her legs!”

My mouth drops open in shock, “CAROLINE!”

Caroline just smirks and pushes me towards the crowd. 

What the fuck.

I push through hordes of dancing teenagers as I try to find my guys. 

“SISTER!!!”

A strong grba pulls me from the crowd, and I see Theo smile brightly at me, “Look who’s back!!!”

I turn to look at Jeremy, whom my brother is pointing at, and smile at him, “Nice to see you, Jeremy. Now Theo has someone else to both now.”

“Hey!”

I ignore my brother and watch as Jeremy gives him a soft smile. Kol stands beside them and stares at me with an annoyed look, making me smirk. 

I wink at the Mikaelson and go to say goodbye to my brother, but he’s already talking to Jeremy’s who listens intently. 

I continue on my venture until I see Klaus and Elijah standing with Stefan and Elena. Oh Goody. 

I walk up to them cautiously, and it doesn’t even take a moment before they notice me. 

“Y/n, Hi! I’m so glad you came. You look so pretty,” Elena smiles at me, and I force a smile in return.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re calling for a truce,” Elena says quickly, “For you. I listened to what you said earlier, and even though I don’t like Klaus and never will,” I hear Klaus mutter something under his breath, “I’m willing to live with him if it means you stay safe.”

“And you’re cool with this,” I turn to Klaus, who definitely doesn’t look cool with this.

“He’ll agree with it if it means you’re safe and out of harm's way,” Elijah speaks up for him, “Right, Niklaus?”

Klaus glares at Elena and Stefan for a moment before looking at me, instantly dropping the glare. I give him a hopeful look, and I instantly see his shoulders loosen. 

“I’m up to listening to them.”

Phew, well, that solves things. 

“Well, not that we’re good, I should probably tell you this now. Tyler’s here!”

Klaus’s look instantly shifts into one of pure murderous rage.

I quickly grab his hand before he can go kill someone, though, “Dance with me!”

I pull Klaus behind me, and surprisingly, he doesn’t need much force to pull him onto the dance floor. Once we’re on the dance floor surrounded by people, I freeze. 

“Ya, so…I don’t know how to dance,” I shrug, and Klaus rolls his eyes before grabbing me and pulling me into him. 

He sways me to the soft music, and I watch him as he is clearly in his head right now, planning many murders. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” I softly say, knowing he can still hear me over the music. 

My voice shakes him from his plotting, and he gives me a soft look, “And let me brother bore you all night long? Never.”

“Elijah isn’t boring,” I chastise, and he gives me a look, “Don’t be mean.”

“The twenties were a vivacious time. Music was loud, liquor was spilling, and people lived freely,” Klaus says as he spins me. 

“Sounds nice, y’know, except the racism, sexism, and homophobia.”

Klaus ponders for a moment before nodding, “Yes, that did make the period much worse.”

“Thank you for letting Alastair come back.”

Klaus’ eyes meet mine, “You’re welcome.”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Ask for anything and it’s yours,” His voice comes out strong, and I know he means it.

“Don’t kill Tyler.”

“Anything besides that.”

“Klaus, come on, please! He’s my friend and Caroline’s boyfriend, and technically, you were the one who uprooted his entire life and quite literally killed him.”

“He went against me,” He growls.

“One, don’t growl at me, and two he’s a fucking teenager! He’s going to act out!”

Klaus and I glare at each other until he finally breaks.

“Only on one condition.’’

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

I fight back the grin fighting to break onto my face, “You’d really spare Tyler’s life if it meant I gave you one tiny kiss?”

Klaus smirks, “What can I say? I’m a man with a horrible addiction.”

"And what addiction would that be?"

Klaus smirks down at me, "You."

I shake my head and laugh, “You’re pathetic.”

Klaus’s face shifts, and I realize I must’ve hurt his feelings. I don’t give it a second thought as I lean forward and place my lips onto his. The kiss, unlike our usual ones, is soft and filled with something unspoken.

I pull back and smile at him, “I’m starting to think I like my men pathetic.”

It’s Klaus’s turn to laugh as he throws his head back at my words.

“I fear I’m stepping into an odd conversation,” Elijah says from beside us.

“Then leave,” Klaus remarks, giving his brother a look.

“I was hoping I could steal you for a dance,” Elijah says, looking at me.

I turn towards Klaus, who looks annoyed, and I kiss his face softly, “Get me a drink?”

Klaus rolls his eyes but still makes his way towards the refreshments table. 

“Hmm, maybe Caroline was right.”

Elijah takes my hand in mine and swings me, the music having a faster pace now.

“Right about what, My Love?”

I look at him and shake my head, “Oh, nothing.”

“You wouldn't be hiding something from me, would you,” Elijah smirks as he spins me so my back is pressed to his front and he sways us. 

“And if I were?”

Elijah leans down so our lips are mere millimeters away, “Then I’d have to find a way to get that secret out of you, wouldn’t I?”

I giggle at his words and then let out a louder laugh as he grabs under my arms and swings me on either side of him, my legs flying in the air. 

He sets me back on the ground as I laugh, “Now I’m starting to wonder what you were doing during the 20s.”

Elijah places a chaste kiss on my lips, “If you can have your secrets, My Dear, then so shall I?’’

The song comes to an end after another minute, and Elijah leads me over to Klaus, who is standing with a scowl, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He hands me a cup of punch, and I smile at him. 

“Enjoying yourself,” I ask him.

“Not as much as our brothers,” Klaus nods forward, and I look to see Theo, Jeremy, and Kol all dancing off beat to some newer age song. 

“That’s unsettling.”

Klaus and Elijah both hum in agreement. 

“Ugh, Y/n?”

I turn to see Elena approach all three of us cautiously. 

“Hey, Elena.”

Elena seems to be relieved that I’m actually speaking to her, “Could we talk?”

I look towards Klaus and Elijah, who watch Elena skeptically.

“Ya,” I walk towards her and feel both brothers follow me.

“Give us a minute alone,” I say to them, and they both look stressed about the idea of leaving me alone with someone in the Scooby gang, but they still let me go with Elena out to the hallway. 

Elena and I made it to a small bench in the hallway and we watch some students walk by as we sit together in silence. 

“I missed you. I mean… I miss you.”

Elena’s words make me frown, “Continue.”

“I know I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I was…I was just scared I was going to lose you, too. I promise it had nothing to do with Klaus being your soulmate. Yes, I hate the man, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. I could never. Lately, I’ve been so self-centered with the Salvatore brothers and everything that’s going on that I didn’t even think to see how you were doing with everything, and I’m sorry. I wish we could just go back to it just being us and our little book club,” Elena sadly laughs.

I watch a clearly drunk girl be held up by two of her friends as they walk by us, “That feels like another lifetime ago.”

“It doesn’t have to be, though,” I turn to Elena at her words, “I promise from here on out I’ll be a better friend to you. No secrets between us. If I know something, you’ll know it too. I swear…just please give me another chance?”

I’m really just forgiving everyone today, aren’t I? Who am I the fucking Pope?

“Fine…but only on one condition,” I tell her, and she nods her head so fast I think it might shake off, “No more plotting behind my back. I don’t want to break the soul bond, so tell Bonnie to stop looking.”

Elena pauses for a second but then nods her head, “If that's what it takes, then ok, I’ll tell her.”

We sit there for another moment, but I can see Elena practically buzzing with energy.

“So we’re good,” She asks.

“We’re on probation.”

Elena lets out a small squeal and pulls me into a tight hug, “Can we have a sleepover tonight? We have a lot ot talk about?”

“Uh, ya ok. I’m sure Jeremy and Theo will be having a sleepover too since he’s back in town.”

Elena's smile gets bigger, if possible, at the mention of her brother, “Ya, Jeremy was talking about how excited he was to see Theo the entire way bringing him home.”

I groan, “Ugh, tell me about it. As soon as Theo got the call from Jeremy telling him he was coming home, he literally squealed and ran into my room, hopping on my bed like a kid on Christmas morning.”

“If they were anyone else, I’d think they were in love with each other,” Elena jokes, and I laugh.

She laughs.

Then we both stop laughing. 

Wait. 

Oh. 

They couldn’t…

“They’re not…”

“I mean…”

Elena and I both sit in silence and stare forward as we think. 

We both turn back to each other, and I open my mouth and then close it. She does the same. 

“Let’s put this conversation on the back burner,” Elena says as she sees Damon and Stefan approach us.

“Definitely.”

Damon and Stefan approach us, and Stefan gives me a smile, to which I ignore.

“I’ll be leaving now.”

I got to leave, but Elena grabs my hand, “Nope. No things from you. Whatever they want to say to me, they can say in front of you.”

“Fine by me,” Damon says and then turns to me and gives me a small smile, “Hey Pukey.”

“Die in a hole.”

Stefan snorts out a laugh, and Elena clears her throat. 

“What's going on, Stefan?”

—-

So remember when I said I had a feeling something was going to go wrong, and everyone told me to chill out? Ya. Guess who was right?!

So, from what the squirrel eater was saying was basically that Alaric is a serial killer, but it’s not technically him since he’s being possessed by his evil self that he now has because of the ring that brought him back from the dead too many times. And now his evil self is fully in control, and he’s not taking the herbs Bonnie made him to get rid of his evil self. 

Cool.

 “Why don’t we get him off vervain and compel him,” Stefan suggests.

“To do what, pretend to be Alaric? The guy that we know is gone,” Damon says, “We’re talking about someone who not only hates vampires but vampire sympathizers, which makes one of his targets, oh, I don’t know, you two?”

Elena and I eye each other. He’s not wrong. 

“What? You think he’d go after Elena and Y/n?”

“Just another Tuesday,” I say to myself casually. 

“So wait. What are you suggesting we do?”

Damon looks at Elena, “I’m suggesting we put him out of his misery.”

I laugh, “Of course you suggest killing your only friend.”

“What!”

“No way in hell,” A loud voice comes from behind us, and I turn to see Jeremy.

“Oh, come on,” Damon looks at the boy, “It’s what he would want. It’s a mercy killing.”

“You are out of your mind.”

Elena takes a step towards her brother, and he stops her, “Jeremy..”

And the next thing I know, Elena’s dragging me down the hall after her brother. Now that she’s got me back, I’m really starting to doubt she’s going to let me go anytime soon. 

—

“Jeremy, stop!”

Elena and I follow Jeremy outside. 

“This is Alaric we’re talking about. He looked out for us, and we need to do the same for him.”

Elena shakes her head, “No one is going to hurt him.”

Jeremy scoffs and begins walking away. Elena follows him.

“Hey, look at me. I promise.”

“Elena.”

Oh I know that fuckass British voice.

Esther, mind you, a supposed to be dead, Esther stands before us.

“Oh no way in fucking hell. You were dead!”

“I was brought back, hello Y/n.”

“Elena, if you wish to help your friend Alaric, I suggest you come with me.”

“Jeremy, go inside and take Y/n. Go get Stefan and Damon now,” Elena tells her brother.

Jeremy goes to grab me but I shake my head, “Someone needs to stay with Elena and I’m not letting that bitch out of my sight,” I point to Esther who side eyes me, “Go get Elijah and Klaus.”

It might just be me, but I think my vampires would fare better in this fight than Elena’s. 

Jeremy leaves us, and I go to stand next to Elena, who grabs my hand in hers. Old habits die hard, I guess. 

“I mean you no harm,” Esther tells Elena.

I snort, “Funny how she doesn’t say that to me. Wonder why,” I raise an eyebrow at the witch.

“I apologize for my actions in causing you harm, My Dear. I’ve had time on the other side to think over my ways, and I realize now that what I did was wrong. You are nothing but a victim of fate.”

Forget Elijah, I’m going to rip this lying bitch’s head off myself. 

“You will come with me, Elena.”

With that the bitch turns around and starts walking. Elena looks at me and then starts following her. I grab her hand, stopping her.

“What the hell are you thinking?”

“It’s Ric, Y/n. I have to. You stay here, I’ve got this.”

Elena pulls her hand away and follows after Esther. I watch them for a moment before letting out a loud groan and running after them. 

A machete would come in real handy right now. 

—-

“You’ll forgive me for taking you from the dance this evening, ” Esther says as she leads Elena and me through a dark cemetery, “That’s the burden of being the doppleganger, I’m afraid. Your blood is a potent binding agent for a witch’s spell.”

I roll my eyes at her words. 

“Please just don’t hurt Alaric,” Elena begs.

“She’s not hurting me.”

I look forward and see Alaric come out from behind a tree. Very dramatic. 

Elena goes towards him with a smile on her face, but I stop her as I look at the cold glint in Ric’s eyes. 

“What’s going on? What are you doing with him?”

“I’m going to remake him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Make him strong, fast, like my children,” Esther gazes at me as she says that, “Indestructible. For one final time, I’m going to tap into the dark magic I used a thousand years ago. Like my husband Mikael before him, I will make Alaric into a true hunter, the vampire to end all vampires.”

“You can’t create another original. What if he turns out to be a bigger monster than your children?”

“He won’t. Now that he’s embraced his darkest aspect. His hatred for them will become more pure and uncompromising. In death, that hatred will be magnified.”

“You really are a crazy bitch,” I shake my head at her amazed.

“You don’t know anything about him,” Elena tells her.

“That is where you’re wrong. Each time he died with that ring during his brief journey into death, I was there on the other side. I spoke to him. I nurtured him, knowing that every death brought him closer to his true self. Vampires took everything from him. Now he’s getting his vengeance.”

“So you’re basically saying you groomed him? I knew you were evil, Esther, but that has got to be a new low even for you,” I glare at her, and she shakes her head at me. 

“My child-”

“I am not your child,” I growl at her and release harsh breaths through my nose, trying to calm myself.

“You defend my children, but you have only known them for a split second of their millennium. They have lived 10 lifetimes more than I don’t blame you for falling for their charms.”

I let out a sick laugh, “You know nothing about me.”

“I know what the birthmark on your shoulder means.”

My eyes narrow.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Confusion clouds Esther’s eyes for a moment before a look of sorrow comes over her face, “You defend my children, and yet they hide from you who you truly are.”

“Once again, what the hell are you talking about, Esther?”

“That birthmark on your shoulder isn’t just a coincidence, My Dear. No, it has a long history of bloodshed and misery that comes with it. My children know what it means, and yet they haven’t told you.”

“So why don’t you tell me right now,” I challenge her.

“You’re a monster bound to the moon, My Child.” 

—- 

Elena has just stuck a stake through Alaric’s heart, and yet I can’t feel anything. I’ve been staring at the stone wall in front of me for the past 10 minutes since Esther just dropped a bomb on me.

“Monster bound to the moon.”

A wolf. 

Maybe she was lying. Maybe this is some kind of psychological warfare. Maybe she's…

“Y/n, someone's here,” Elena pushes me u,p and I feel myself stand up and follow her, my mind is still buzzing and I’m not really sure what is going on, but I watch as Matt and Jeremy stand before us with bows. 

Esther says something to them, but I’m so out of it that I notice the shift when they both pull their weapons on to one another through Esther’s control. 

“Esther, stop!’”

Elena’s yells are interrupted but a gasp from Esther, and I turn to see Alaric stab her right in the back.

—-

“How many times will we have to deal with our mother’s dead body?”

I look up from my seated position on the dirty ground to see Kol, Elijah, Klaus, Theo, and the Salvatore brothers, all staring down at Esther’s dead body. 

Theo’s eyes meet mine, and he instantly runs over to me and kneels in front of me, “Y/n, are you ok? What happened,” He places his hands on the side of my face, checking me over for injuries, “I swear, if that witch did anything to you, I’ll find a way to bring her back to life just so I can kill her myself. 

Elijah and Klaus both stand behind my brother now, both assessing me.

“Elskan?’”

“Luv, tell us what’s wrong?”

“Did you know?”

Both of them frown in confusion, and Kol joins us.

“Know what, Luv?”

“Did you know what my birthmark means,” I finally look up at them to gauge their reactions, and even though they’ve had a thousand years on me, I can still read them clearly. 

They knew. 

Elijah sighs deeply, “Y/n, I swear-”

“Go.”

“Elskan, please…”

I stand up so fast that Theo almost falls over; thankfully, Kol grabs him and helps him stand up. 

“I said, go, Elijah! I don’t want to see either of you! Grab your deaad mother and leave me the fuck alone,” I snarl in anger at them and Elijah and Klaus both have looks of hurt on their faces. Good. 

Klaus steps forward, but Theo quickly stands in front of him, blocking me from his sight. 

“She said leave, Klaus,” Theo’s words come out strong. 

Jeremy, who was standing next to Elena, comes to stand next to my brother, blocking Elijah from seeing me. 

“You heard the lady, brothers,” Kol steps in between Theo and Klaus, “You grab mommy dearest, and I’ll make sure everyone gets home nice and safe.”

I don’t see them, but I hear a low growl and then footsteps. I peek around Theo and see Klaus pick up Esther’s body, and both brothers leave the graveyard. 

“Thanks,” I choke out, and Theo instantly turns back to me.

He wipes a stray tear from my face and pulls me into a tight hug, “Stop getting kidnapped, please. You’re giving me wrinkles.”

I pull away from Theo and smile at Jeremy, who nods and then walks over to Alaric. 

“Did you know,” I ask Kol.

Kol gives me a look, “Not a clue what birthmark you’re talking about, Doll. But if you want to show me,” He smirks, and Theo punches him in the shoulder.

—-

The next hour consists of everyone saying their goodbyes to Ric, who decided not to complete the transition and to let himself die. Everyone here is filled with sorrow and has tears in their eyes, well… except for Kol. Kol looks clearly uncomfortable at the emotions being thrown around and clearly just wants to go home. 

Jenna exits the tombstone with a sob, and I hold out my arms for her, and she dives into me. I feel her tears coat my shoulder as I shush her. 

“I’ve got you, Jen. I’ve got you.” 

Theo stands next to Jeremy with a hand on his shoulder, Bonnie, Caroline, Tyler, and Matt all stand together, and Elena walks out of the tomb next, and I don’t even have to say anything because she’s already diving into my arms. She and Jenna both cry into my shoulders for another moment before Jenna leans back to look at me.

“Do you want to…”

I don’t say anything but just nod, leaving both women to console one another.

I walk into the tomb to see a ghostly-looking Ric sitting against the wall. He notices me and gives me a painful smile. 

“Hey, Kiddo.”

“Heya, Ric.”

I sit across from him in silence. 

“Are you scared?”

Ric looks at me for a moment, “I’ve already died like a thousand times, what’s one more?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Kiddo,” Ric tells me with tear-filled eyes, “You just stay you, alright? Don’t let any of this supernatural stuff ruin you like it did me. You’re too good. You, Theo, Elena, and Jeremy look out for each other, alright? You guys need each other.”

I release a shaking breath, “Will do. And I’m sorry I never turned in my paper on the Industrial Revolution,” I try to joke, but my tears just make it even sadder.

Ric laughs, though, so it was worth it. 

“No problem, Kid. I’m sure it would’ve been brilliant.”

I stand up and give him one last look before walking to the door.

“Y/n?”

I turn around. “It was a pleasure to meet such a bright mind like yours. You will always be my best student.”

I give him a sad smile, “You were a pretty good teacher yourself, Ric.”

—-

Theo, Jenna, and both Gilbert siblings walk in front of me as we enter the Gilbert household. Kol walks beside me, keeping his word on making sure everyone got home safe. 

“Alright, I’m done here.”

I look at Kol and give him a smile, “Thank you, Kol.”

Kol eyes me for a second before shrugging, “Just keeping up with our deal, Doll.”

I give him a look, “Ya…sure.”

He rolls his eyes and runs off without another word. The cold wind brushes through my hair, and my gaze makes its way up towards the star-filled sky. My eyes lock onto the daunting crescent moon in the sky, and a sick feeling washes over me. 

“Y/n?”

I turn towards the front door, where Elena is standing with her hand held out for me, then give one last glance at the moon, and then turn back to my friend.

“I’m coming, Lena.”

[levissslutt]

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, mention of drug use, kidnapping, cheating wc:11.9k

The Mechanic Final Part

You woke to a delicious burn in your thighs, covered in a fluffy white duvet. A pang of panic hit your chest, wondering how you got back in your house before memories of the day before flooded your mind.

Josh had brought you home, much like the first time the two of you met, only this time he'd brought you home, as his girl , and that had a fat ass smile plastered on your face. Cheesing ear to ear.

The smell of breakfast had your feet moving before you realized what was happening. You rounded the corner, to a very large man in your kitchen. You almost doubled over immediately at the sight. He was wearing some shorts he must've found in your drawer, not paying attention to what was on them.

"Juicy" was sprawled out in rhinestones on the backside of the shorts, walking over you caressed him from behind, kissing his back.

"You look way better in these than me."

You tapped his right cheek, watching it move, damn near more than yours.

"You got me feeling like Im the women in the relationship."

His voice was gruff, full of sleep. You laughed at him, hugging him closer. You loved how he just let you love on him.

"This just how I show my affection, and damn, have you affected me."

He set the pan he was holding down on the stove, spinning around.

“You really my girl now.”

He was grinning like a child in a candy store.

“Yes Joshua I am now flip over my pancakes before they burn.”

He slapped your ass pecking your cheek.

“Girl I got this, go roll up assum.”

Pulling him in for another kiss, you nosed his cheek.

“I gotchu you Chef Fatu.”

You saluted retreating back to your bedroom. He watched you, smile never leaving his face. This was all he ever wanted, something, someone genuine. He couldnt wait for his little boy to meet you, you were what they needed, someone solid.

-

The next day was the most fun you’d had in a while. The day before Josh had a few clients that needed detailing so after breakfast he headed out.

But today was the day you where going to meet his son for the first time, Jeyce, he was 6 years old and from the pictures his dad has shown you he was his twin, down to the curls.

-

You sat nervously in the passenger seat of his truck twiddling your thumbs, as you inched forward in the car pool line.

“Girl will you relax.”

You pouted slightly, “I am relaxed.”

“You ain’t even hear what I said just now.”

You turned to look at him with raised eyebrows.

“What did you say.”

“I love you.”

Your heart lept in your chest.

“Just like that?”

He nodded.

“You don’t think we moving too fast.”

He shook his head quickly.

“That’s just how I feel, you don’t have to say it ba-

“I love you too Joshua.” Cheeks flushed, because you did, you loved him and that felt good to say.

He grinned, all 32 showing.

“Just like that lil mama.” He chuckled under his breathe.

Soon the two of you made it to the front of the line, Jeyce running eagerly towards the back door, bookbag bigger than him. He didn't even notice you at first. One of his teachers held the door for him, watching you closely, you thought nothing if it assuming no one had ever been with Josh to get him.

He hopped in the back, talking 50 miles a minute about his day, his little back was turned trying to settle into his seat, the two of you were turned around watching him with smiles on your face.

“Jeyce buddy I got someone I want you to meet.”

He stopped talking just as fast as he started when he sat down buckling himself in, finally noticing you. His eyes went big, voice trailing off.

“Hi Jeyce, I’m Bella.”

He squinted at you slightly but waved nonetheless, a small smile twitching on his small face.

“Hi Bella, are you and my dad friends?”

The two of you exchanged looks, you stuttered not knowing what to say.

“Nah this is my girlfriend Jeyce, we’ve been seeing each other for a little bit now and I wanted you to meet her.”

He looked between the two of you, allowing his features to spread into a real smile.

“So you really like her dad ?”

He was grinning ear to ear now, same smile as his dad.

“Yea lil man I really do like her, how about we go grab something to eat and we can all talk?”

You couldn’t possibly imagine his smile getting any bigger but it did, his entire face was lit up, nodding eagerly at the idea.

-

The afternoon was perfect, filled with laughter and new memories made.

Josh had taken y'all to the best pizza place in town. You recognized the street he turned on, as the run down Italian spot came into view.

"What you know about this place Mr. Mechanic."

"Only that they got the best mothafuckin pizza in town, best breadsticks, best salad...lets just say we finna gain a few pounds."

Jeyce was too tickled in the back, his eyes looking through his window with excitement.

Your stomach fluttered, eyes squinty as you smiled. It felt good to share a place the two of you both know of before knowing each other. It was like fate had brought you two together just to experience the good things in life you discovered before.

Finally seated, with sweet teas all around the table, conversations flowed easily. Your heart was full, and you were happy, genuinely happy. Jeyce even insisted on sitting next to you, talking your right ear off, but you didn't mind not one bit, listening to every word he said with a smile on your face.

-

A few months had gone by. Everything you ever wanted was falling into place. When you first met Josh you told him your goal was to have another studio within the next year, and here you were only about 6 months later, making it happen.

Jeyce was in school for the day, and Josh closed his shop for the time being to help you find a new studio space. You wanted to buy out some space further from the city, still in a populated area, but not smack in the middle of the city, in doing so you hoped for new cliental that way.

"Baby will you relax, we don't have to figure it all out today."

The two of you were standing in the middle of the 4th building you've toured for the day, and nothing was speaking to you, nothing stood out and your frustration was festering and Josh could tell.

Walking over he pulled you into a hug, his chin resting on the top of your head, beard tickling your forehead.

"Take a deep breathe baby, it wasn't no way you was going to find the perfect option for you the first day we started looking."

His hands were rubbing your shoulders in a soothing motion, finally taking a deep breathe you sighed heavily.

"Im a perfectionist, and as unrealistic as it sounds I actually was expecting to find the perfect space for me today."

He pulled out his phone checking the time.

"Well how about this, we aint gotta get lil man for a few more hours, why don't we grab something eat and then try to squeeze in a few more places before the end of the day.

Although you were pouting like a damn child he laughed and pulled you out the building nonetheless.

"You are dramatic as hell pretty girl we gon find you the perfect studio."

"I know just let me be dramatic please."

He pulled you over his shoulder, feet dangling in the air.

"Sir if you don't put me down."

"Not until you fix yo face."

"I - I know damn well you don't got me in air jail."

He was laughing so hard he could hardly hold you up.

"Baby you- yo ass need to calm down."

You crossed your arms over his head. If somebody saw the two of you like this you were positive they would take a picture, two grown ass folks giggling like kids in a random parking lot. You didn't care not one bit though.

Josh had a way of bringing out your inner child, you were still contemplating if he was just childish himself or if Jeyce had his dad wrapped around his finger.....both. Jeyce was really the mastermind behind the way Josh acts and his own personality just drove it in.

-

He was still chuckling as he let you out of air jail, lifting you into his house of a truck.

You didn't see your phone ringing at first, but as your laughter died down you heard the vibration, yanking it out of the cup holder already irritated all over again.

"I swear to god if this number calls me one more time."

You declined it, blocking the number like you have for the 100th time since the calls started. They started exactly a week after you met Jeyce for the first time.

Josh raised an eyebrow.

"Who dat."

"I don't even know Josh they been calling me nonstop multiple times a day, at first it was the same number and I blocked it after the fourth time they called, then another number started calling me and I didn't make the connection until a few days later, and once I realized I blocked that one too, Josh another fucking number started-

"Why you aint tell me ma that's not ok."

He cut you off snatching your phone out your hand, scrolling through your call log.

"Well I just don't know who it could be honestly so I didn't know enough to be worried, its just annoying as hell constantly getting calls."

"Maybe you should change your numb-

His face had gone pale, voice trailing off, as he stared at the small device in his large hands.

"Josh what is it, what's wrong."

He said nothing, he had froze, literally froze, his entire body was rigid, but his hands were trembling.

When he spoke his voice was low, cautious, trying to mask the emotion in it.

"Bella. How did you get this number."

The look he had on his face had sent chills all the way through your body.

"I- I didn't get it from anybody those numbers are the ones that are calling me."

He shook his head, it almost looked like there was a smile on his face.

"Nah there's no way."

Your stomach was twisted , heart pounding against your ribcage, because the normal silly Josh was long gone, his entire demeanor had changed within seconds . There was a literal chill in the car from the tension.

"Imma ask you one more time Bella. How the fuck did you get this number."

You tried gaining back control of the situation, something was wrong very very wrong. Leveling your voice the best you could,

"Josh I just told you, I didn't get that number from anybody, they started calling me the week after we hung out with Jeyce."

He looked over to you, locking eyes with you once, and then he returned his focus back to the small device. You relaxed slightly seeing his eyes and features had softened a bit.

Running a hand down his face, he stared at your phone as if it was going to give you all the answers he needed.

"This just don't make no sense."

"Joshua please tell me wants going on."

He finally looked at you, not just a glance, he turned his body to face you, taking your hand in his, voice still small, holding way too much emotion for your liking.

"Baby I really need to know how you got this number."

You sighed again deeply, growing frustrated that he thought you were lying. Your voice rose more than you would have liked it to when you spoke.

"I don't know why you're acting like this, this the third time I just told you no one gave me that fucking number Josh, it started calling MY phone, not the other way around, do you understand?"

A beat of silent passed, his hands never left yours and you didn't want to pull away from him no matter how frustrated you were getting because you wanted him to explain what was going on.

"That number belongs to someone I know to be dead."

Your heart slammed against your chest.

"Who baby, who's number is that please tell me what's going on."

He suddenly ripped his hands away from yours, getting out the car. His hands were over his head, pacing back and forth, trying to control his breathing, but it was no use. The tears came, hot, and they didn't stop.

Not another second had passed before you stumbled out of his truck, rounding the car to him.

He was hyperventilating, his chest rising and falling as tears slipped from his eyes, you reached for him, trying to steady him.

"Josh-

"That's his fucking mom yo- fuck man."

The realization had hit you like a ton of bricks.

The number that had been calling you was from the mother of his kid. Well the first one anyway.

"How is that even possible I thought she was -

Your voiced trailed off, as you watched Josh sit back in the drivers seat of his truck, your phone was trembling in his hands.

You moved in between his legs to try to give him some form of comfort in this moment, but what exactly were you supposed to do ?

Imagine the mother of your kid who overdosed on drugs is now calling the phone of your new girlfriend. What kind of K drama shit was this ?

He wrapped his arms around your backside, burying his face in your chest. This small action had you relieved he was till in there somewhere. The deepest trauma he's ever been through was just dug back up in the bed of his new garden. You.

The worse of the day had yet to even come.

-

Josh had pulled himself together, putting every number that had called you in the notes app of his phone, double checking they were all blocked, he messaged each and every number with the same message.

' If this is who I think it is, tread lightly.' - J

In the midst of all of that the time to get Jeyce had come sooner rather than later.

Pulling up to the carpool line the two of you waited in silence, fingers tangled in each others in a silent prayer. Inching forward felt like the incline on a roller coaster the way the day was going, your stomach preparing to drop at any moment.

Finally reaching the front , you had given Jeyces name to his teacher, who had already looked confused to see the two of you which was odd, considering you've been picking him up with Josh for weeks now, she knew who you were.

"I though he was picked up already, guess not." She spoke into her walkie as she walked away.

Josh head snapped up so fast the car shook slightly. He reached over you quickly before you could yell after the teacher, he did just that.

"Wait miss come back, wait you mean you thought he was picked up already."

As she was walking back, the words that came over her walkie, echoed through the car.

"Oh yea Jeyce Fatu was picked up earlier by his parents, weren't you aware sir?"

You could've sworn everything was moving in slow motion after that.

Josh was yelling over you through the window, causing people to look our way.

" What the fuck you mean he was picked up already by his parents if we sitting right here."

He was out the car in the teachers face before you could stop him, scrabbling after him you wedged yourself in between him and the startled teacher.

"Y'all aint never seen nobody but me come and get him so what the fuck you mean my kid was already picked up."

By now a few male teachers had come to push him back after hearing the commotion, it was no use he was a big guy pushing through all of them.

You were trying your hardest to keep your hands on his chest to push him back, but he wasn't letting up. He was yelling now, everyone around y'all had either tried to get out the way or was watching the scene unfold with shocked faces.

Somehow they managed to get him to the ground, one teacher on top of him. You were crying now, the situation was out of hand and you were being tossed around like a rag doll in the middle of it.

As the teachers were trying to get a hold of Josh, you turned to the teacher who he was yelling at, tears coming down your face, voice broken, pleading for some answers.

"Ma'am that is his father whoever came to get him earlier was not his parents, you gave him away to some damn strangers, aren't there fucking precautions in releasing kids to other people." Your voice was raising growing angrier at the situation.

The realization was spreading across her face, an expression of horror left in its wake. The principal had come out now, as well as a few more teachers, still trying to calm Josh down, he was thrashing around on the side walk, people on top of him pulling him every which way.

The principal was half running have hobbling your way in her heels, a twisted confused expression on her face.

"What happened, isn't that Jeyces dad, what's going on."

"Yes Im his girlfriend Bella, we came too get him and y'all are telling us he was picked up already, by his parents, how when y'all have only ever seen Josh get him, and even then Ive been the only other person with him, so what the fuck is going on, where is he."

Your mind was racing as you spoke, trying to keep calm as the scene behind you was unfolding.

The teacher who must've been the one on the walkie came forward and spoke in a matter of fact tone, voice dripping with attitude.

"Actually his father did come pick him up, he showed us his id-

All you saw was your hand going across her face, fast and hard.

"Are you deaf, dumb, or delusional?"

She held her cheek, mouth wide open in shock.

"Joshua is his father, he's only 6 years old he aint even been in school that long. If Josh was the only person ever coming to get him and never put down a list of people who could also pick him up, why THE FUCK would you release him to some randoms 'cause they showed you an id' fuck outta here yo, so I will be calling the cops because what your telling me is he was kidnapped."

You backed away from the group of women pulling your phone out and dialing the 3 numbers quickly. The princapal as well as a few other teachers where in your face trying to calm you down saying things like, "it was a mistake", "There could be a reasonable explanation for all of this", "Please calm down."

Bullshit basically they was spewing bullshit in your face, because at the end of the day they fucked up and they knew it now.

"Im going to ask y'all once, back the fuck up."

You had your hand over your phone and found a different pair of eyes for every word you spoke. And they did just that.

-

Cops had arrived about 10 minutes later, all the kids were cleared out the school ,and all the teachers were standing outside, talking worriedly amongst themselves.

Josh had managed to get back to his feet, still yelling before the cops had come, he had calmed down enough to get the teachers off him but his voice was echoing off the empty parking lot.

You spoke to the cops first before Josh or the teachers, he was livid, rightfully so, and the teachers where trying to cop a plea at this point. Fuck that.

After explaining the situation to the cops, and after they got all the information they needed, they immediately put out a missing child report.

-

Exhausted, angry, confused, hungry, hot and very much over it, you plopped in the passenger seat of Joshs car, that had been running this entire time. From the moment the teacher informed y'all Jeyce was not there, to now, it had been over an hour, and there still was no resolution.

However there were a few more details added to the situation, apparently the women who came and got Jeyce was his mother. The women that the Fatu family, including you, had thought to be dead. her being alive was enough of a gut puncher within itself, but its who the "father" that was with her that really drove it home. Josh had a twin brother. That is who was with the women earlier. The teachers couldn't even backpedal and say they thought it was Josh because they had already admitted to checking his id and even named him as Jonathan, not Joshua.

A screeching sedan came bumbling into the parking lot, a women who looked uncanny like Josh got out, immediately, running over to him. He bear hugged her, you had been watching him talk to the cops across the lot. His shoulders shook into her as she clung to him, the way he looked 10 years younger in her arms and the way he clung back to her, that had to be his mother.

You didn't know what to do, part of you felt like this was your fault, maybe if you would've told him about the calls sooner this wouldn't have happened. Your face was in your hands, silently sobbing.

Strong hands had wrapped around your wrist pulling you into their chest.

"Im already knowing what you thinking Bella, this is not your fault baby, you better scrub that idea from your mind right fucking now."

Josh, his voice strained and pained.

You looked up at him, sobbing, no sound coming out.

He held you as you cried, your breathe eventually catching, causing a loud sob to come from you.

"it is Josh it is my fault, Im sorry, Im so sorry-

Another voice from behind him spoke in a language you didn't understand, but your spirit felt the words all the same.

"Bella wipe your face baby, look this my moms."

He side stepped so his mom could walk up, grabbing your other hand.

"Hi pretty girl, I hate how this is how we're meeting, Ive heard so much about you."

She all but pushed Josh out the way to embrace you, holding you in a way only a mother could. She was rubbing your back , and somehow Josh managed to keep a hand on your knee.

She had tears in her own eyes as she backed up to look at you. She held your shoulders firmly.

"We will find him Bella, don't you worry. Stay here with her Joshua while I try to get some more answers from the principal."

You nodded as she made her way back to the group of teachers huddled on the side walk.

"Look at me my love."

Your eyes met, both of your faces, red, tear streaked and sad, and to think the day started off with searching for studio space.

His thumb and index finger came up to pinch your cheek.

"You so cute when you cry." He whispered ever so slightly.

The faintest of smiles spread onto your face, fading almost immediately.

"I know its a lot going on right now, but I haven't been fair to you, I raised my voice at you earlier, I- Im sorry."

"Im not gonna lie Josh that shit hurt a little when you didn't believe me about the number, I know it was really because you were in shock, but I would never lie to you, I would never hide anything from you so don't ever do that to me again. However I shouldve told you about the numbers, maybe-

"Nah none of that, you had me until the end, this aint your fault Bells, this aint your fault at all." He bear hugged you, holding you like that for a bit.

-

The two of you as well as Mrs. Fatu followed the police cruisers back to the station. The sun was long gone by now, the chill you'd felt in the car earlier never leaving you. Goosebumps had lined your arms, as silence filled the car.

The city blurred in an unfamiliar haze.

Joshua was a mess, he was trying his best to put on a poker face, but his lip trembled anytime his mind wandered too much. His boy was gone, he's all he ever had and he's gone. He prayed to whoever was listening that he didn't have to end up in prison, protecting his son.

Even through all of it, he never let your hand go, not once, his soft lips brushing on your temple every so often reassuring you he was right here. Through it all he was reassuring you.

-

The police station smelled of burnt coffee, leather, and cedar wood, a very odd combination. You and Josh sat side by side in the office of one of the officers, every sound, every door, opening, phone ringing, made the both of you jump. Anxious wasn't even the word.

It was torture, sitting , waiting , not knowing if he was ok, how far they gotten, how they were even able to get to him, it all was too much. Too much had happened too fast and you where beginning to spiral, left leg jumping against Josh.

"Baby, baby please relax." His hand reached out steadying your knee.

He kept his hand there, looking at you with tired eyes, you swore you saw anther patch of grey in his beard, he would have definitely earned it after today.

You couldn't even look him in the eye, none of this made any sense, and it didn't matter how many times him and his mom told you it wasn't your fault, it didn't matter that he was trying to comfort you or crack small jokes despite the situation, it was your fault and the way your stomach twisted and churned only confirmed that fact

-

It was dark when your eyes fluttered opened, almost forgetting where you were at first. You barely had time to adjust your body to its surroundings, before you heard the yelling.

It was two men, shouting in the next room over, one of them sounding a lot like Josh. Looking over to the empty spot where he was sitting, confirmed that it was him.

You pushed yourself off the couch that lined the wall of the office you were in, stumbling in the dark to the door. Flinging it open, part of you had wished you stayed asleep, and pretended this was some bad nightmare.

Your heart slammed again your chest at the sight of Jeyce, his hair was sticking up all kind of ways his clothes were dirty he was dirty and his little hands were scraped up.

He saw you before you could call out to him, he ran across the police station, throwing his little body into yours. He was crying so hard he couldn't even catch his breathe, you dropped to your knees crying with him.

"Ive got you sweetheart, you're safe now." Your arms wrapped around him, squeezing him.

Josh's mom had made a trip to the store, grabbing snacks and anything y'all would've needed for being in that police station for god nows how long, but the second she rounded the corner and saw you and Jeyce on the floor, she dropped all the bags, hurling herself over the two of y'all.

Speaking rapidly in samoan, tears falling from her eyes, she held the both of you as all three of you cried. Jeyces small hands clung to your shirt. Your heart was in pieces at the sight of him.

Scooping him up, you and mama Fatu got him some food and water, wrapping him in blankets.

"Ill sit with him Bella go and find Josh."

You nodded, taking an actual deep breathe for the first time since earlier that morning.

The room next to the one y'all were in had the blinds drawn and the door shut, standing right up to the door the two men were no longer yelling, but they werent whispering either. You could make out a few sentences before you decided to knock on the door.

"She been alive this whole time."

"I fucked up I- im sorry...I never meant to hurt you."

"She was going to hurt him."

You knocked twice softly, the door opened revealing an angry looking Josh, his brows knitted, one hand was on the door the other was clenched into a fist by his side, as if it were taking everything in him to not punch a hole through the wall.

You looked slightly passed him, only to see another man who looked identical to Josh leaned against the window seal. Both of their expressions softned at the sight of you .

"Hes here Josh, we got him some food and water, but he's banged up pretty bad, he's too shaken up to to even tell us what happened."

Your voice caught at the end, and to your surprise Josh didn't bust through the door like the koolaid man to see his son, instead he comforted you. He pulled you into him pressing a kiss to your temple. You noticed his entire body was trembling, but you said nothing, just held onto him.

"Im bout to go check on him now, I just need you to get out yo head, I know excatly what you thinking, and we gone figure all this out ma, me you and lil man gon be alright, ok?"

"This my big bro Jonathan, my twin, he was the one that was calling you, if you let him explain it'll make a little bit more sense, I just im-im done im so fucking done yo."

The way he said "my big bro" and "my twin" like it held a lie didn't go unnoticed to you

He was already walking out the room as he talked, more confused than ever, you turned to the twin, eyebrows raised.

He gestured for you to sit, but you didnt, just caught his gaze and didnt look away. There was too much going on, it was practically the next day, Joshua never once mentioned he had a twin, the dead mother of his cild isn't well ya know dead, and now here you were getting the story from said twin brother that you knew nothing about.

A cold cigarette, and 55 casamigos shots were needed. ( And an obituary after that.)

He sighed deeply, eyes averting yours.

"Look, me and him do not talk at all, we haven't since before Jeyce was born, we fell out and he has good reason to have not said anything about me, it was all my fault anyways."

Your eyes softened at the way he spoke, buy you nodded for him to continue, your eyes piercing into his.

"When we were 24, he had a girlfriend , they were pretty serious, its not Jeyces mom someone different, but long story short, she cheated on him, with me. He never forgave me for it, I mean I wouldnt either, especially since I had gotten her pregnant."

Oh fucking boy.

You were shocked, but let him continue.

"Anyways, when he found out he blocked me and her on everything and moved out here, our mom was so heartbroken, but she understood why he was angry, and honestly she was probably more upset at me than he was, anyways when he had met Aliriyah, lil mans mom, our mom knew, she was like you need to leave her alone, she's no good for you."

"Josh is stubborn though, im sure you know, especially when its over someone he cares about, he poured and poured and poured himself into that women, and it broke our mom seeing him drain himself out."

He paused every few sentences as if to choose his words carefully

He sat down, rubbing both hands down his face. The striking resemblance in their family was uncanny.

"When she got pregnant, he was over the moon excited, he's a big softie and that's all he ever wanted was a family, we talked things out, our relationship will never be the safe from what I did and Im gathering that, but I only did this for Jeyce, she was going to get to him one way or another."

"Did what for Jeyce."

Your voice was tight, angry, but steady holding just enough bite for him to know you didn't trust him no further than his twin in the next room.

" For a while things looked picture perfect, she was clean, getting healthy Josh and the shops were thriving, he bought a house for them..."

His voice faltered, almost too ashamed to let the words spill out.

"Ultimately she stayed clean and was able to deliver him no issues...thats when she disappeared. She up and left everything Josh had for them, completely ghosting him, and taking Jeyce with her."

He told you part of the story, but hearing it pieced together like this almost sounded like a joke.

"He probably told you she overdosed, but the truth is she wasn't even there, he tracked her car down to some crack house and that's where he found Jeyce, but she was never actually there, having never spoke to her again he assumed she was dead, especially considering the state Jeyce was in when he found him."

Your patience was gone, there was nothing left anymore after this.

"Im not gon lie you need to get to the point and I mean quickly, how did y'all end up with him."

"She blackmailed me."

"How Jonathan, stop giving me bits and pieces of a back story, why the fuck does he look like that what did y'all do to him."

You were damn near vibrating with anger, the way he sat so comfortably, talked so causal, he was choosing his words carefully, but it was too rehearsed.

"Because Jeyce is..."

He trailed off, voice wavering.

"Boy if you don't spit it out."

"Jeyce is my kid Bella, not Josh's, she cheated on him, but I swear to you I had no idea who she-

That was it.

That was the moment you snapped.

All you remember was your legs flying across the room, and your arms swinging on the man that was sitting against the window, punching and grabbing any part of him you could get to. You clawed at his face as he tried to get you off of him. You kicked and punched, the commotion had officers running towards the room, stumbling over each other.

After you finally came to, Josh had you pinned to the wall, officers holding Jonathan to the other.

"Get him out of here, we have enough evidence to book him, anyways."

And with that Jonathan was whisked through the door, lip busted, shirt ripped up from the altercation.

"Imma kill him, I swear to god Joshua. Ill do it right here in the station they can book me next I dont care."

"Isabella look at me."

He had your hands above your head and one of his knees in between your legs, if you weren't so angry you wouldve enjoyed this, you weren't. Nothing about this situation was enjoyable.

"Did he tell you."

His grip loosened , his head hung low, eventually he let you go all together. it wasn't until you had lifted his face in your hands did you realize he was crying.

No words could be said. None.

-

Its been 3 weeks, since the incident. Jonathan and the crack head were booked and sentenced, for kidnapping and child endangerment, and human trafficking.

It was a 50/50 chance of them walking free and getting custody of Jeyce since in the end, those were his parents, as fucked up as it sounded, they technically had birth rights, but after hearing the entire story, the jury was on Joshuas side. Everyone was.

And so were you.

Never leaving his side through any of it, his mom being another anchor in it all.

The women was so fucked up in the head she had the idea to, blackmail Jonathan into taking the boy, but she told him it was so she could raise him as her own, Jonathan wanted nothing to do with it having caused enough pain to his brother, but when she found out that Josh didn't know that he wasn't the father she used that against Jon. Saying if he didn't help her shed tell Josh the truth.

Her plan all along wasnt to raise him as her own, she was going to sell him. A fucking child. Her fucking child. And when they actually got him in the car, she had taken them in the opposite direction on where they had originally planned on going. Alarms were going off in his head, and when she pulled over to an abandoned house to meet a shady looking man he told Jeyce to run, to run far and as fast as he could.

He called the cops immediately explaining everything. Since there was already an active missing childs report on Jeyce someone recognized him from the description the news gave. He had been running through shallow woods on the side of the high way trying to make his way back to the city and was able to flag somebody down. An intelligent kid he was.

Once the women realized that Jonathen caught on to her intentions she tried to run with the man she met, but was Jon saw his car and gave a description of that too, the both of them being picked up a little ways down the highway.

He had to make it right, no matter if that meant that he was going down in the process.

-

That day in the police station after Jonathan got his ass tore up from the roota to the toota, Josh had broke down.

You had to close the door to give him some privacy, he was crying that loud. Broken sobs leaving his chest and he just clung onto you as if it would change anything, and you let him because you knew, you just knew you had to step up for your boys.

3 weeks later

"Bella can we go to the pool while they are gone ?"

Jeyce was back to himself, bright eyed and hyper as hell. His grandmother was going home today. She had stayed and crashed on Joshs couch until he had some sort of footing back. A man needs his momma ok.

"Ooouu only if we can bring those little crackers and juices we like."

Josh rounded the corner with his moms book bags, she was going on a business trip, and Josh was taking her to the airport.

"Seriously Bella you bout as bad as him." Josh had chuckled from the kitchen.

"Hey hey, that snack is a staple in this house hold, dont be a hater."

"Exactly let them babies have fun at the pool, they deserve it."

Mama Fatu chimed in, winking at you before pulling you into a hug. You sunk into her, embracing her. A mothers hugs were just too healing. She stepped back slightly to catch your eye, hers just a little glossy.

She didn't even want to leave, but her son insisted that the three of y'all were ok.

"Take care of my boys ok?" her voice was small, holding in the waterfall, and well honestly you were too.

"I will." You own eyes now glossy as she pulled you into another hug.

She moved to Jeyce next, ruffling his hair and pinching his cheeks. You turned to Josh, the far away look in his eye hadn't left since that night.

The kind of person he was though, didnt let it get to him. He poured his heart into you and Jeyce, taking time off from work, he tried everything he could to keep his mind from wondering.

"Hey."

"Hi Bella." His voice was small, tired, but he grabbed your hand, pulling you into him. He was so warm, you could fall asleep standing up from the way he held you, so gentle.

"You're everything to me." He mumbled into your hair.

You had your arms wrapped around him, looking up you kissed his lips, and then his cheeks, his nose, any part of his face you could reach.

"My heart is yours my love."

For the first time in weeks, you saw him smile.

-

Too many juice boxes and crackers later, you and Jeyce were lounging by the pool, enjoying the sun before it dipped out the sky.

"Omg." You gasped.

The tiny human to the right of you had snapped his head up at you, soft curls floating around his face.

"Your birthday is coming uppppp."

His confused expression tuned into pure happiness. He jumped up from his chair.

"It is! Im going to be 7 FINALLY."

You were laughing at the way he had jumped up so quickly, like he almost forgot his own birthday.

"Ok we gotta go all out, a mean how many times do you turn 7 ya know."

He sat down sipping his juice and pointed at you ,"exactlyyyy."

-

You and Jeyce had talked for so long, you looked up and it was dark. Not only that the low rumble of a familiar face filled the air.

"Y'all still out here, y'all gon catch a cold."

Rolling your eyes you hopped up, swallowing his words in a kiss. His arms hadn't even reached all the way around your body when you heard a very disturbed "eewwww."

"Boy his this right here is love, so uh get used to it and get yo stuff, lets order a pizza and have a movie not or sum."

-

You, Josh and his mom had decided for now, to not tell Jeyce about Jonathan. Y'all figured he had enough going on for him to learn both of his parents are disgusting people. Even if Jon tried to make it right after the fact, the damage was done.

It had been almost a month, and still, the story they gave seemed too damned flawed to have been what happened. After everything was said an done, Jonathan admitted to tapping you phone. After they had access to where Jeyce went to school it as over.

The women blackmailed Jon. She told him if he had helped her get their son back shed never tell anyone the truth about what had happened, but in the end it was Jonathan who told his own brother about what he did.

The only reason why Josh didn't sucker punch him through the 3rd floor of the police station was because, he'd been there before, done that, it doesn't change a thing. Part of him was still proud as hell though when he pulled you off of him.

If it wasn't him, somebody needed to put they hands on his ass. How you betray on your own brother, twin fucking brother like that, TWICE, hollering about 'I didn't know, I didn't know', uh- uh uh bullshit.

-

Showered and in one of Joshs t shirts, you paddled softly behind him as he carried Jeyce up to his bed. It was a little past midnight, and you guys watched Moana, the second one, and then ended the night with a certified classic, Monsters Inc.

You held the door cracked for Josh as you watched him, put his son in the bed, kissing him goodnight. It didnt matter what a piece of paper or dna said, that was his baby.

"You deserve the world, you know that."

You looked him in the eye as he came out the room, closing it with a sift 'click'.

His arms wrapped around your waist, grounding him in the moment. He didn't say anything for a moment, just held you, eyes closed. Eventually he moved the two of you to his bedroom, clothes littered the floor, it looked a mess, but what you didnt realize was that you had been over here with him the entire time his mom was also here.

The mess on the floor was comforting in a way, it was a mixture of you and his lives together, a little messy, strewn about, but in the end it all made sense.

The best part about his room was he had a reading nook in his window, it was angled just high enough you could see past the tree-line, watching the blinking far away lights, indicating a bumbling city life.

He pushed the door closed, walking in the room he sat you on that ledge, standing between your knees.

"I am so so sorry for all of this." His head dipped, soft brown curls shaking.

You looked at him puzzled for a second.

"What are you apologizing for."

"You got caught right in the middle of my family mess Bells, I never meant for that to happen."

You grabbed his hands, holding them in your lap.

"I know too much has been going on, too much to talk about, but one things fasho, Ian going nowhere Joshua, I am your family, and Im not caught in the middle of anything, we fighting this shit back to back. Your heart is too big, and people take advantage of that, not anymore, I won't let you fall again"

His head had dipped lower, nose brushing your shoulder as his hands slid out of yours and onto your thighs. He didn't say anything, and he didn't have to. You knew him, all the words he didn't or couldn't say where translated through his touch. His fingers burned a path of ambers on your skin.

In that moment he had made up his mind about what the future held, he was going to stop at nothing to achieve it too.

-

He kissed you like you were the only women left on earth, and not just that, he kissed you like he'd picked you specially to be there with him. His lips smashed into yours, moving in synch, sloppily making out.

Your hands where in his hair, his on your hips, hiking his t-shirt up. Before you could get up and back him into the bed, he grabbed the back of your knees, yanking you onto your back.

He wasn't even shocked to see your bare core, no panties in sight.

"You miss me pretty girl."

"So much." You breathed out.

His tongue was in your folds, not wasting another second. His arms where wrapped around your legs, anchoring you the window seal seat.

Your eyes fluttered, sighing at the satisfaction, hips bucking up.

"Mhmm"

Your lips quivered, body trembling at the anticipation. Two of his fingers entered you, slowly curling into the perfect spot, his tongue working on your clit, swirling and sucking the sensitve bud.

Your fingers were tugging at his scalp, mouth wide open.

He mumbled incoherent sentences into your pussy, little nothings about how wet you ere, how good you tasted.

"This my pussy, my shit." He growled.

"Im all yours Josh- fucckk."

Him claiming you as his hit even harder now. He needed you, he needed someone who was his, and his only.

The night whirred buy in whispered praises and stolen kisses.

-

Today was Jeyce's birthday party and you where running around like a madman. Josh told you you were doing too much, but he said it while laughing so you knew he would be doing the same.

The entire school had heard what happened, and sent an unwavering amount of support when Josh decided to take him out of the school. Two of his closest friends from his class, followed him to his new school. The parents not wanting to separate them since they had been friends since kindergarten.

Your heart was full, knowing they had y'all's back, because they didn't have to go through all the paperwork and obstacles just to have them together, but in the end the three boys appreciated it more than anyone else.

Today was Jeyces day, big 7 not the little one. He requested a small party at home with his best friends and a sleepover. You had spent all day decorating the house. Josh was running errands for the party getting stuff ready for the weekend.

"Every time I come back this damn balloon is in a different spot."

Josh pushed through his front door carrying bags.

You had your hand on your hip, a nasty bruise forming on your leg from when you busted your ass trying to tape it to the ceiling a minute ago.

"Listen....me and that ballon gon fight. I might just pop its ass."

He threw his back laughing, meeting you across the room.

"That balloon did allat ma?"

He gestured to the bruise on your thigh. You nodded slightly pouting.

"I bruise too easily that's going to be huge."

He held your thigh rubbing small circles over it.

"Well lil mama, didnt nobody tell yo fine ass to get up there to begin with."

You poked his cheek, pushing him towards the balloon of destruction, handing him the tape.

"Well gon on then Mr. handy man, since you got your degree."

He laughed even harder, at the slight pout on your full lips.

"You going all out ma, he's gonna love this."

His back was turned to you as he worked with the balloon. The sun coming through the window perfectly, shining on his face. His golden skin dancing like diamonds.

God you were so happy your car broke down in front of his shop.

-

The day was absolutely perfect. You picked up all three boys from school, grabbed some pizza, and made a snack run before returning back to the house.

Josh insisted he stayed home while you ran out with them, already knowing he was up to some bs, especially when he texted you to make sure Jeyce was the one that opened the door.

The second he walked through his dad attacked him with silly string, the boys squealing and running around the house, cans in both of his hands. You were just happy this was his house and not yours, got the string got everywhere.

An ear to ear grin never left the face of Jeyce. He was happy, and that's what mattered.

You sat curled up on the end of the couch, sipping wine from a Transformers mug. Courtesy of having a man child as a boyfriend.

"Well well well."

"Boy what you want."

Josh met you on the couch, leaning over you, his hands on either side of your body.

"My favorite girl, wearing my favorite hoodie drinking out my favorite mug."

You pecked his lips.

"Lucky you."

"I am."

His smile faded slightly as he sank into the cushion next to you.

"Listen, we haven't got to talk much."

You held your hand up cutting him off.

"I want to put whatever the fuck that was far, far, far, far, far behind us....far."

His shoulders shook slightly letting out a breathy laugh.

"This is why I fell for you so hard so fast, you just get me, I can feel a certain way or be thinking something and some how some way you be on the same damn page every time, it's like I made you in a computer."

Your hand found his, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand with your thumb.

"Josh, you mean the world to me. The second I met Jeyce and we were all laughing and talking as if we've been doing this forever, it felt good. I didn't think I was ready for a serious relationship, and I damn sure didn't feel like I was worth being loved, but youve shown me more than that. It isn't just the sex, its every single moment Im with you, every time you look at me or kiss me...it just grounds me, I feel like I can do anything when Im with you."

Your voice didnt waver, or get small once, you spoke proudly and freely about how he made you feel, because he deserved that he deserved to know how amazing he made you feel.

"You are my world baby, the way you look at me it feel like you see all parts of me, not just the person I paint for the world to see on the outside, first time I saw you I knew you had read me energy to the bone, to be honest I was more worried about you than me, thought you might throw me in the trunk assum."

The palm of your hand smushed his face- "Ya know, I might've."

"See I was already knowing, but forreal girl, you is something magical, your smile lights up my heart, and I never get tired of seeing it, the way you treat my boy, like he's yours, that shit means more to me than you know."

His voice broke slightly, but continued.

"You know he asked me if Imma marry you, that's how much you mean to him."

Your mouth almost fell on the floor.

"He asked you that?"

"He did Im forreal, that aint just me tryna be slick, you mean a lot to him, to us.

He lifted your hand kissing the back of your knuckles.

"Imma marry you one day babygirl, I mean that."

The day ended in bliss, the two of you watching the boys terrorize Joshuas home as you talked about what the future held.

Three years have gone by now.

A lot has happened in your life, so much. And it was all you could ever ask for, it was truly, truly a blessing. You were now at the grand opening of your FIFTH yoga location. And not only was it the biggest location yet, it was the next state over, meaning either you had to move to manage that one or hire store managers like you did at the locations back at home.

Joshua on the other hand wasn't thinking about yoga at all, he was thinking about positions, but not yoga positions...

It was your birthday and he wanted to make it perfect, he planned everything, he even packed your bag for you.

"Will you please tell me where we are going."

You tried keeping up with his long strides throughout the airport, but you ultimately ended up in a half walking half jogging motion, clinging onto him for dear life.

He just grinned, headphones around his neck, chain swinging on his black nike tech.

"I told yo ass its a surprise, why you can't just rleax and sit pretty mama?"

"I hate surprises."

He hooked his arms around you and dipped his head to whisper in your ear, practically dragging you along.

"Well you gon like this one."

-

You wore a tight red dress, it had spaghetti straps and hugged your torso beautifully, the bottom flared slightly, a slit all the way up to your hip on one side. You where going to pair it with your usual silver jewelry, however you got a matching set of grills, copied Jeys to the detail. So instead you kept it simple, a gold clasped bracelet , that matched your necklace.

His back was turned to you, his all black suit, crisp and clean, the air lingered with his cologne and your perfume, it was intoxicating in the most ravenous way.

"Baby you almost re-

He yelled for you but caught the striking red dress in the mirror he was looking in. He turned around dramatically and began walking towards you, but halted immediately, when you grinned slightly, golds dancing in the dim light.

He was getting ready to say something before you grinned, mid step, hands still in the air, mouth just open.

"You looking mighty stuck."

His voice was low, dangerous, eyes looking like the devil.

"Girl you - you got golds in?"

This time you smiled, mouth looking like a disco ball dripped in honey, his own grills dancing off the light slightly.

You nodded sheepishly.

"I wanted to match you."

"Mhmmm."

He began circling you like some prey. His hands rubbing togther, bottom lip tucked in his teeth, one step harder than the other.

You laughed .

"You look like my damn pimp, boy cut it out."

He came up behind you, chest pressing on your shoulder blades, breathe fanning your ear.

"Nah...we might not make it to dinner, when my dessert ready for me right now."

He kissed your nape, sending shivers down your spine, then your shoulder, his hands slid down your arm, eventually grabbing your hand, spinning you around.

Instinctively, you arms hooked around his neck, looking up to him like he was an almighty entity. His hands found your wasit pulling you flush to him.

"You have no idea how fucking good you look right now princess."

"Well come show me off then."

He chuckled deep, kissing you deeply.

"Lets go then birthday girl."

He held out his arm, and you took it leaning into him.

-

The restaurant was crowded, but of course Josh just had to rent out a private room.

Knowing what lied ahead had his nerves firing off in every direction. The closer the two of you approached the room, the redder his face got.

The two of you radiated so much energy heads naturally turned in the dimmed space, to glimpse of either you or Josh.

"Is you bout to pass out why are you the same color of my-

But as the waiter y'all were following pushed the door open, every thought dissipated from your mind. It was replaced with the inner little girl in your screaming. It was replaced with all the nights you had to hold yourself up, all the times you deserved more than you received.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw.

"Will you marry me Isabella"

Was spelled out in rose petals against the wall, the same petals littered the floor, candles and small wrapped gifts covered the table, and in the center was the most beautiful cake you've ever seen in your life. Matching the scenery perfectly.

You spun around, tears streaming down your face. Josh was already kneeled, the door now shut.

"Joshua-

"Isabella Marie, will you do me the honor and be my forever?"

No words came out, just a choked out sob, as your dropped to your knees in front of him, nodding so hard your head hurt.

"Uh uh beautiful, get up."

He lifted you off the floor, guiding you by your elbows, and then taking your hand, sliding the ring on.

"Joshua."

"Isabella."

He smirked , watching you in complete shock, holding you in his arms as you held out your hand.

"Joshua."

"Isabelllaaaa."

"Oh my god."

He held you by your waist peppering kisses on your face.

"Your joking."

"I told yo ass I was gonna marry you one day, and I meant that shit."

Your hand was still in the air, looking at the ring, in complete shock.

"Baby close your mouth I got more stuff for you."

Finally you looked at him, really looked at him.

"Joshua..you- you really did all this for me?"

"If you asked me for the world, everybody else would just have to find somewhere else to go, cause it's yours."

He looked at you so casually, as if loving you was the easiest thing in the world.

To him it was. Loving you was the best thing that's ever happened to him. Loving you came second to breathing.

Your hands trembled in his as you looked at the diamond on you ring.

Balling up his collar, you yanked him to your lips. Kissing him like he might change his mind, tuh like he would. He got you, his Bella, his everything.

He backed you into the table, stepping between your legs.

"Maybe I should've asked you after we ate."

You shook your head, lip tucked into your teeth.

"Nah, this is perfect."

He grinned ear to ear, one of you favorite sights to see. His big brown eyes caressing you like a warm hug. His salted beard perfectly groomed, mullet still a little damp from his shower earlier.

Perfection.

He sat you down on the other side of the table, pushing you in. As if on cue a couple of waiters knocked before entering with some appetizers. The room filled with delicious smells immediately, and in the moment you hadn't realized how hungry you were.

They placed trays of food on the tables, after making sure the two of you were all set, the waiters were gone.

Making a small plate with everything on it, you took in the scenery around you, taking in the moment.

"You ready for your gifts?"

"I think you just might be anxious for me to open them." You laughed.

He nodded, his soft features crinkling under the dimmed lights.

He pushed forward the first box that was on the table.

"You've done enough for me baby what else you got me."

You grinned as he nodded for you to open the box. Your mouth dropped, at the sight. It was a trio set of a Van cleef necklace, bracelet and another damn ring.

"Josh-

"Money cannot represent how much you are worth to me, don't worry about it."

This had to easily be 35k just sitting in a tiny box.

"I love it."

"Ready for the next one ?"

Your heart was hammering against your chest.

"No.."

He chucked at the smallness in your voice, watching you with the most adoring gaze. You meant worlds to him, and he was going to make sure you knew it.

"How bout this, open this next one now and then we can save the rest for when we go home?"

You nodded, tears in your eyes, plate untouched.

"Where my spicy lil mama at now."

A dinner rolls smacked him on the chest, as you wiped your eyes.

"Shut yo ass up, im trying to remember how to breathe."

The next gift was in an envelope, you opened it carefully sliding the papers out, and as you read your world tilted. There was no way you were going to be able to eat anything now.

Your head dropped, sobbing into your hands as Josh rounded the table to pull you into his arms.

"He asked me personally, so I didn't ask you to marry me just for me, but for him too." Your hands were bunched in his jacket as you cried into him, happy tears, tears of a new future, new beginnings.

What he showed you were adoption papers for Jeyce. He wanted you to be his mom, not just his step mom, not just his dads girlfriend, wife, fiancé, but his mom. He loved you just as much as Josh did.

-

It was a miracle any of the food actually got eaten, the way your nerves had you trembling wasn't even funny.

The car ride back to the villa was a comfortable silence , the tension in the air growing each second, soft R&B hummed low through the car.

Parking the rental Josh rounded the car lifting you out of it as if you were precious cargo. You unopened gifts long forgotten in the back.

You squealed as he flung the door open, a sly smirk on his features.

He put you down spinning you around and his lips crashed into yours, hands on your hips backing you into the nearest surface.

"Every time we fuck, you take control, sit back for once, let me have you like the little slut you are, yea?"

It was a cute attempt at trying to be the dominate one, but you saw the uncertainty in his eyes. God he was adorable.

"Gon head, if you can't handle it imma take ove-

His had was around your neck so fast, his grip unforgiving. Tears brimmed your eyes.

"Your safe word is red. Do not test me."

You nodded, but your core was soaked. He was so submissive you naturally had control over him, but not tonight.

He just marked you as his and this may not have been your honey moon, but he was going to make it feel that way

He found the zipper on the back of your dress, moving in slow deliberate motions. Tugging it down over your chest watching it fall effortlessly to the floor, leaving you in nothing but nipple jewelry, red laced panties and your red bottoms.

"Yep, that's my wife right there."

He lifted you by your waist, and you wrapped your thighs around him, allowing him to carry you to the bed room. He kicked off his shoes stripping himself of his blazer and button down.

You sat patiently on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. Straightening up he hooked his fingers in your panties sliding them down your legs.

"I could ring these out." He chuckled.

"If you don't come fuck me sir."

A low guttural growl came from the bottom of his throat.

"Say it again."

"Come....fuck....me."

In an instant he some how managed to flip you on top of him and laid down all in the same motion. This man was something else. He centered you above his face, facing you away from him , ass in his face, just how he liked it.

His tongue was on you like white on rice, flicking and sucking your folds like the last supper. He didn't let up either, slick tongue working through your pussy like a magician.

His hands were snaked around your torso, large hands resting on your soft mounds, fondling them, pinching your nipples.

You were clinging to his forearms, nails digging into his ink, hips rocking into his face.

"Jeyyy fuck baby, im close alreadyy."

He chuckled into you, hands rubbing up and down your chest. Beard tickling you just right.

"Cum for me slut."

Your legs trembled against him, pussy too sensitive from the position you were in, legs locking around his head as you came.

"Fuckk mhmm I love that shit Josh." Hardly holding yourself together you were a moaning mess , his perfect little whore.

He was groaning into your core, slurping up any drop that came his way, beard soaked, out a breathe. He didn't care one bit. His fiancé was riding his face with red bottoms on.

On top of the world wasn't even the statement to describe how he was feeling. His heart thumping against his chest he laid you down gently, crawling back on top of you. Lips swollen and soaked in you.

His hands grabbed your thighs pinning them to either side of you, spreading you out like some money.

"You always so wet for me baby, pussy looking like honey."

"That's all you pretty boy." The tips of his ears flushed red.

Your eyes did not leave each other as y'all spoke. He dragged his tip along your clit, your legs instinctively spreading more.

"Why you playing, fuck mee." You were breathless, eyes begging.

"Lemme savor this treasure baby, I need you so bad, all mine."

He spoke low, voice rumbling as he eyed you like his prey, tip brushing through your folds like a canvas, had your hips bucking for the sensation.

He sunk in slowly, stretching you out so good, like his shit was made for you. He bottomed out, teeth barred at you, grills flashing in the dark.

"This all me baby, look at yo shit spread round me so perfectly, gah damn."

"Fuck me like it then Joshua, fuck me like I'm yours baby."

You were a whining mess, hips rolling as he watched you amusingly, he never got to see this side of you and he wasn't about to let it go unseen. He was going to savor this like a dream.

He started slow, fucking you like he had a point to prove, his hands gripped your thighs, pushing you into the mattress. Your hands were gripping anything you could find, him , his chain, the bed.

"Look at you, a fucking mess."

The bed was rocking, head board slightly hitting the wall. His pace picked up, snapping into you. Skin on skin was all you heard over your damn self, moaning and calling out to Josh.

Music to his ears.

His mouth was open slightly, breathe shallow, hair slick on his forehead. Tattoos on full display.

He was loud as hell, groaning into your neck, his head dipped low, fucking you stupid.

"Joshh ohmygod."

Your eyes were fluttering open and shut in bliss, nails scraping his back. He hissed at the pain but didn't dare slow down.

He was staring down at you almost in disbelief, like he couldn't believe you were real. You were his dream and as much bullshit he's been through, he fucked you to forget it.

Screaming his name as he slammed his hips into you, back glistening in sweat, chain smacking you in the face.

"Tell these neighbors who you fucking you baby, let them know."

"Josshhh fuckfuckfuckkk."

Your voice shook from the force he was punishing you with, tip hitting your g spot with ease.

"Ah fuck princess take my nut, take all of it. Finna put my kid in you fuckkk."

"Yesyesyesyes nut in me baby, give it all to me."

He twitched inside of you once before filling you to the brim, not a single drop coming out.

"Uhuh, take my shit, you love this shit don't you."

You were a mess, legs trembling in his hands, a tear streak in your left eye. His eyes bore into you savoring every detail. Studying every perfection .

That night the two of you held anew record, he fucked you four times. Holding onto you like a chill in the fall, and you clung to him like summer heat, bodies warm and tangled into each other.

-

The wedding was everything, but it was more, so much more. Beautiful wouldn't even begin to describe it. From the decorations to the cake, your dress, the venue, it was perfect.

It was on the beach of course, a beautiful house overlooking the water. Chairs lined the sand leading up to the alter, every chair wrapped in light pink bows. There were palm trees lining the sand just before it started leading to the beach. They were wrapped in fairy lights, the trunks wrapped with the same pink ribbon.

The inside of the house was for the food, tables lined the other side of the house much like the chairs in the front. Each table had a bouquet of flowers with party warmers, everything a light dusted pink.

You thought his mom was making too much food.....little did you know how big his family is, he didnt talk much about his family, but when he sent out that he was finally getting married the response and support was overwhelming.

There was a story behind why he didn't speak to them much, but he didn't tell you so you didn't push, especially after what his own brother did to him...twice, peace was all you wanted.

His brothers ex wife even showed up, Trinity, you had seen a photo of her with Jeyce when he was a tiny baby. She had bright green streaks in her hair and a smile that could light up a room. Jonathan was out his mind for loosing her. She helped your mom with guest lists and seating arrangements as well as some last minute decorations. Your sister was too excited to see you to be much of any help.

Joshs mom took care of the food and music , all the men helping out where needed. This was all you ever wanted. A big wedding with the man of your dreams with both of your families at your backs.

-

Now sitting outside in the back of the house everyone had a plate of food, chatting amongst themselves. The sun was starting to set, a soft glow over everything. Kids squealing and running around in the sand. Laughter from old stories being told, and new ones.

Families and cultures mixing into a beautiful harmony.

Josh had his hand on your thigh, his eyes never really left you, even when you weren't looking him he was looking at you, he couldnt help it. Studying the side of your face like he'd never see it again. It was a habit of his.

"You ready?"

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you nodded. He helped you to your feet, the table the two of you were at facing everyone else.

He clinked his glass a few times to get everyones attention, all eyes immediately on you.

"I just wanted to start off by thanking everyone for coming today, it means the world to us really."

Claps and cheers erupted in the backyard, people whooping and punching the air.

"I just have two more things to share with y'all before we call it a night, Jeyce come here lil man."

He came running from the table he was at, damn near tripping over his little church shoes, everyone chuckling at his excitement.

"Slow down buddy we gon be right here, alright read to them what that says." A proud smile on Joshuas face. Eyes crinkling.

"This certifies that Isabella Marie Fatu has officially adopted Jeyce Fatu. By signing this certificate I promise to give him a lifetime of love care and attention that they deserve. I promise to do my best to protect him and help him live a happy and healthy life. Signed Isabella Marie Fatu."

Everyone was on there feet, jumping and cheering, Jeyce was crying you were crying Josh was crying the sun was crying there were tears everywhere.

You bent down embracing him, squeezing him so tight his eyes might pop, but you didn't care.

"Jeyce I love you my sweet boy. We are going to have so much fun raising you and watching you become anything you want to be. I love you so so so much." You sniffled.

"I love you too....mom." His arms were wrapped around you, face buried into your stomach.

More tears.

"Ive got something for you too actually." You whispered.

His eyes twinkled, almost like he knew. You handed him the paper to read it out loud to everyone.

"This is to certify that on this day Friday, May 2nd, Jeyce Fatu....is hereby considered forever A BIG BROTHER."

He spun around eyes wide in shock, it took a second for everyone to catch on, but your mom was the first to jump up hollering, of course.

"ISABELLA ARE YOUR PREGNANT." Her chair done fell over, it had gotten so quiet for a moment, you could hear the waves crashing in the back

You gestured to the decorations around you, the realization slowly hitting the crowd. Your mom was the first to reach you, embracing you in a way mothers only could.

More cheering and whooping filled the air. Praises and positivity captured the moment.

"Im so proud of you Isabella, you did it my girl."

You hugged her back, clinging onto her.

Then Joshs mom was next, pulling you into her.

"You took care of my boys." She smiled, with tears in her eyes.

"Always mama Fatu."

The night ended with many congratulations, Josh and Jeyce at your side like body guards as you said bye to everyone. Close family stayed behind to help clean up.

You started packing the chairs up from the front lawn, when a loud booming voice came from across the way.

"Girl if you don't leave them damn chairs alone and come sit down somewhere."

It was Josh of course, his long stride reaching you before you could protest, scooping you up bridal style, he made his way to the porch , plopping down in the swinging bench.

"How you feeling mama."

"I feel like Im in heaven."

"Word. Crazy you say that cause it feel like Im looking at it."

His eyes were boring holes through yours, his head dipping low to kiss you. Your hands threaded in his mullet, lips moving in synch.

His Bella.

Her handy man.

Together until the end.

a/n: ohhhhh my god. I have never written anything this long, I am not super confident in my writing style but, I tried to deliver as best I could. The vibes for this one is a little different, had to throw a curveball in there lmao, anyways I so so so so appreciative of all the likes and comments y'all have given me. This the first story Ive ever actually finished , and it wasn't even planned gotta give myself a little creds for that, again thank y'all for the support and I hope y'all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Tags: @mselenalovebug @duhitzkay380 @theusotwinzcom @uceyliyahh @brwnlikefoxy @that-90s-girllll @keenagurl @luuvprincess @transparentphantomface @yana3sworld @bebesobrielo @msklassickilla @jeyusosqueen @nayys-world @spiicii @punksyeet @mjonthetrack @sisifromthed @luuvprincess @fafomama @sheaabuttaababyy @bloodlineslut @4milly @prettyfilmz @blkgirlsneedluv2 @seokminieee @tmensah @t4nner08 @bamakakechick @nameless-jamie @thisuserdoesexist @thisuserdoesexist @kia758 @papireigns-05 @possessedmagpie @sleepyspudbrainrot @glitteryearthquakeshark @mamis-girly @rose-bliss @ahudsbbki @yafavkei @vynaissance @astrogirlwrld @mutlivrp @catxo @rheas-ripley @dogwithablog35 @luvlamya @cintatheone @charmed-dreamssss

[rafes-honey]

Thinking of… Sugar!Daddy!Rafe x Maybank!Reader.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

The Range Rover’s parked deep in the cut, tucked off a dirt road between the Outer Banks trees where no one’s supposed to be. Except you. Except him.

Your legs are thrown over Rafe’s lap, his hand riding high under your skirt, playing with the lace of the panties he picked out for you.

“You like makin’ me act like this?” he asks, voice low, words slurred on lust and that dangerous edge he always carries. “Keepin’ secrets, runnin’ around like a fuckin’ Pogue slut?”

You roll your hips into his touch, mouth curled in defiance. “Didn’t hear you complainin’ when I was on my knees in your shower this morning.”

He grins, nasty and proud. Cocky. “Yeah, ’cause you look real good like that. All messy. All mine.”

He grabs your chin roughly, forcing your gaze to meet his. You can smell the weed on his breath, the sweat on his collarbone. Gold chain resting over his collar, glinting in the moonlight through the windshield.

“You ever let a dirty pogue touch you like this?” His hand dips lower, fingers pressing into the heat between your thighs. You jerk, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loud.

You shake your head. “No. Just you.”

“Damn right.” He pulls your panties aside and pushes two fingers inside without warning. “He couldn’t fuck you like this.”

The car’s too hot, windows fogging, your breath catching in your throat as he finger fucks you hard and fast, watching your face like it’s the only thing in the world he needs to survive.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you,” he growls. “So fuckin’ wet. Bet it’s ’cause you know you’re my dirty little secret. My Pogue girl with her legs spread in my car.”

You can’t even talk. Can’t think. Just feel the stretch of his fingers, the filthy words, the low rasp of his laugh when he sees you fall apart on his hand.

And then he’s pulling you onto his lap, pushing your panties to the side as he frees his cock thick, veiny, already leaking for you.

“No condom tonight,” he mutters. “You let me cum inside, yeah? Let me fill you up nice and deep.”

You should say no. You know you should say no. But when Rafe pushes inside you in one long, deep thrust, all you can do is whimper his name and claw at his shoulders.

He fucks you hard, rough, hand gripping your ass to slam you down on him over and over. The leather squeaks. The car rocks. The only sound is skin on skin and the broken little gasps you can’t hold back anymore.

“You keepin’ secrets, baby?” he pants, thumb pressing against your clit. “You tellin’ your Pogue friends how you ride Rafe Cameron’s dick like a fuckin’ pornstar?”

You moan high, desperate. “N-No… Just you. Only you.”

“That’s right.” He groans as you clench around him, eyes rolling back. “Only me. ‘Cause you’re mine. All that smart mouth, that tight little pussy mine.”

When he cums, it’s deep hot and possessive, his teeth in your neck, hips twitching as he empties inside you. You feel it leak out the second he pulls out, thick and warm between your thighs.

He watches it, smirking. “Gonna make you walk home like that. Let your fucking bitch of a brother and his friends’ see what a little Kook cum looks like runnin’ down your legs.”

Your cheeks flush, but you don’t argue.

Because you love it. The danger. The filth. Him.

Even if he’s the worst thing that ever happened to you. It pays the bills at night.

[thirteenheavens]

hii can i req an enemies to lovers fic w scenario 1 where y/n gets stranded in a snowy cabin w hoshi (rival)

-🐯

Snowed in||Kwon Soonyoung x Reader

Notes: buckle in guys it’s a long one <3

You pulls up to the secluded cabin, the snowflakes already falling as you unload your bags from the car. The quiet surroundings seem almost eerie, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not alone. You shiver as you step out of the car, your breath visible in the cold air. As you approach the cabin, the door swings open and out steps Soonyoung, or Hoshi as everyone calls him. He's already dressed in warm clothes and looks annoyed to see you.

"What are you doing here?" he snaps, crossing his arms. "I thought I was the first one to arrive."

"Well, clearly I was faster," you retort, rolling your eyes as you try to brush past him into the cabin. "Don't worry, I'll stay out of your way." Hoshi steps in front of you, blocking your path. "No, you won't," he says firmly. "I don't want to be stuck here alone with you. Can't you just leave?"

You scoff and glare at him. "As if I'd want to be stuck here with you either. But I'm already here, so we might as well make the best of it." Just as the tension between you and Hoshi reaches its peak, your shared friend's call comes through on Hoshi's phone. He answers it with an irritated sigh, stepping aside to take the call.

"Yeah, what is it?" he snaps into the phone, shooting you a dirty look as he walks further into the cabin. You hear him talking in hushed tones, the conversation clearly agitated.

"Wait, what do you mean everyone else is stuck in traffic?" he exclaims, his voice growing louder. "And the storm is getting worse?" Hoshi ends the call with a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. "Great, just great," he mutters, turning to face you. "Apparently the roads are blocked and everyone else is stuck in traffic. We're the only ones who made it here." He paces back and forth in the small living room, his annoyance growing by the minute. "This is all your fault, you know. If you hadn't gotten here first, I wouldn't be stuck with you."

"Oh, don't even start with that," you snap back, crossing your arms. "It's not my fault that the roads were clearer earlier. And it's not my fault that you can't handle being around me for more than five minutes." Hoshi glares at you, his jaw clenched in anger. "You're so full of yourself. I can't stand how you always have to be right and how you think you're better than everyone else." The cabin feels even smaller as the tension between you grows thicker, the snowstorm outside raging on.

You and Hoshi sit on opposite ends of the sofa, the only sounds in the cabin being the crackling of the fire and the faint buzzing of the TV. The awkward silence is suffocating, but neither of you seems willing to break it. Hoshi occasionally glances at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and something else you can't quite place. The tension is palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.

As the hours pass, the storm outside grows worse, and you realize that you're both stuck here for the night. Hoshi finally breaks the silence, his voice low and strained. "We need to figure out how to make this work. We can't just sit here in silence all night."

You turn to look at him, surprised by his sudden willingness to talk. "What do you suggest we do, then?" you ask, your tone still guarded. He shrugs, running a hand through his hair again. "I don't know... maybe we can play a game or something. Or at least try to be civil."

Despite your mutual dislike, the prospect of being stuck together for an entire night starts to weigh heavily on both of you. The cabin seems to shrink even more as the snow continues to fall outside. Hoshi gets up from the sofa and heads to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets until he finds a bottle of wine and some snacks. He returns to the living room with an armful of food and drinks, setting them down on the coffee table between you.

"Here," he says, pouring you a glass of wine. "We might as well make the best of it." You hesitate for a moment before accepting the glass, taking a small sip as Hoshi sits back down on the opposite end of the sofa. The tension in the room seems to have shifted slightly, but it's still present.

Hoshi grabs a handful of chips and offers you the bag. "Truce?" he asks, his expression serious. You eye him suspiciously for a moment before nodding and taking a chip. "Truce," you agree, albeit reluctantly. "For tonight only."

Hoshi relaxes a bit at your response, leaning back against the sofa and reaching for the remote. "So, what do you want to watch?" he asks, flipping through the channels. The wine starts to work its magic, and as you both settle into watching a movie, the air between you grows less hostile. You steal glances at Hoshi when he's not looking, noting the way his features soften when he's focused on the screen.

The snow continues to fall outside, but inside the cabin, a fragile truce begins to form between you and your reluctant companion. As the night wears on and the wine bottle empties, you and Hoshi find yourselves laughing and joking together, surprising each other with your mutual sense of humor.

"I can't believe we were fighting earlier," you say, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "This is much better." Hoshi nods in agreement, his expression surprisingly warm. "Yeah, I guess we were both being stubborn for no reason. You're not as bad as I thought you were." The wine has loosened both of your tongues, and the barriers between you begin to crumble further. You share stories and memories, realizing that you have more in common than you initially believed.

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, Hoshi glances at you with a newfound softness in his eyes. "Maybe we should do this more often," he suggests, his voice gentle. You feel your heart skip a beat as Hoshi moves closer to you on the sofa, his body heat radiating against your side. The air between you grows warmer, and the tension from earlier has transformed into something entirely different.

"You know," he says, his voice low and husky. "You look really beautiful when you laugh." Your cheeks flush at the compliment, and you take another sip of wine to hide your reaction. The small distance between you seems to disappear as Hoshi's gaze lingers on your face.

"Hoshi..." you start, unsure of where this is going. "I didn't know you could be so... nice." He chuckles softly, his hand brushing against yours on the sofa. "I have my moments," he says, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your skin. Your breath catches in your throat as Hoshi's fingers continue to trace patterns on your skin, sending sparks of electricity through your body. The air between you is charged with electricity, and the wine has made you both bolder.

"Maybe I misjudged you too," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're not the arrogant jerk I thought you were." Hoshi leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours. "I'm glad you see that now," he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. "And I'm glad we're stuck here together."

The snowstorm rages on outside, but inside the cabin, everything has changed. The realization hits you that perhaps there's something more between you and Hoshi than just mutual dislike. Your eyes flutter shut as Hoshi's lips brush against yours, the kiss tentative at first, then growing more confident as he deepens it. The taste of wine and something uniquely him fills your senses.

He pulls you closer, one hand cupping your face while the other slides around your waist. Your body melts into his touch, the tension and animosity from earlier completely forgotten. The kiss grows more heated, tongues tangling together as your hands explore each other's bodies. Hoshi breaks away to trail kisses down your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he whispers against your skin, his voice rough with desire. Your mind is spinning as Hoshi's hands slide under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. You can feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the knowledge that he wants you as much as you want him sends a thrill through your body.

"We should... we should probably move this to the bedroom," he suggests, his voice rough with need. "If you want to, that is." You nod, unable to form words as desire consumes you. Hoshi stands up and takes your hand, leading you down the hallway to the only bedroom in the cabin. As he closes the door behind you, he pulls you into another heated kiss, his hands already working to remove your clothes.

Your clothes fall to the floor in a pile as Hoshi guides you backward towards the bed, his lips never leaving yours. His hands explore your body with growing urgency, mapping every curve and dip. You feel the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and Hoshi gently pushes you down onto the mattress. He climbs on top of you, his body covering yours as he kisses a path down your chest.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his lips closing around one of your nipples. "I've wanted you for so long." You arch up into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair as he switches to the other nipple, giving it equal attention. The air is filled with the sound of your moans and the rustling of sheets as Hoshi continues to worship your body. Hoshi kisses his way down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your underwear. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, his fingers tracing the edge of your panties. "We can still stop if you want." Your heart is racing, but you don't hesitate as you reach down to pull him back up for a kiss. "I'm sure," you whisper against his lips. "I want this. I want you." Hoshi groans at your words, his lips claiming yours in a fierce kiss as he slides your panties down your legs. His fingers find your wet folds, and he groans again at how ready you are for him.

"So wet," he says, his voice thick with desire. "All for me." Your hips buck against his hand as he slides a finger inside you, then another. The feeling of his fingers stretching you sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you gasp his name.

Hoshi continues to work you with his fingers, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles as he watches your reactions. "You're so responsive," he says, his voice rough with arousal. "I can't wait to be inside you." He kisses you deeply as he removes his fingers, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. The sound of a condom wrapper being opened fills the air, and you hear him rolling it on.

He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. "Are you ready?" he asks again, his eyes locked on yours. You nod frantically, too lost in pleasure to form words. Hoshi pushes into you slowly, filling you inch by inch until he's fully seated inside.

"Fuck," he groans, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel amazing." He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he starts moving, his hips thrusting in a slow, deep rhythm. The stretch is deliciously painful, and you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

The cabin fills with the sounds of your moans and skin slapping against skin as Hoshi picks up the pace, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. Hoshi takes his time, dragging out each thrust and savoring every moment. His lips find yours again, swallowing your moans as he continues to drive into you at a torturously slow pace.

"You're driving me crazy," he whispers against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place. "I want to make this last." You dig your nails into his back, desperate for more, but he refuses to speed up. Instead, he changes the angle of his hips, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

The pleasure builds slowly but intensely, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. Sweat beads on both of your bodies as the room fills with the scent of sex and desire. Hoshi's control begins to slip as your walls flutter around him, his pace picking up just slightly. He buries his face in your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as he thrusts deeper.

"I'm not going to last much longer," he groans, one hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit again. "Come for me, Y-N." The combination of his fingers on your clit and his cock hitting your g-spot sends you hurtling over the edge. You cry out his name as you come, your body trembling beneath him.

Hoshi follows seconds later, his hips stuttering as he spills into the condom. He collapses on top of you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from your high. Hoshi rolls onto his side, pulling you with him so you're facing each other. His arm wraps around your waist, holding you close as you both catch your breath.

"That was..." he starts, trailing off as he struggles to find the right words. "That was amazing." You nod in agreement, feeling a mix of satisfaction and confusion. The animosity from earlier has completely disappeared, replaced by something much more intense.

"I don't know what this means," you say softly, looking up at him. "But I don't want to forget what just happened." Hoshi brushes a strand of hair from your face, his expression uncharacteristically tender. "Neither do I," he admits, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Maybe we can figure it out tomorrow." The snowstorm outside shows no signs of stopping, and you find yourself growing sleepy in Hoshi's arms. The events of the night have left you emotionally drained, and you feel safe and secure in his embrace.

"You can stay here tonight," he murmurs, pulling the blankets up over both of you. "It's not like we have much choice with the storm." You nod, too tired to argue, and snuggle closer to him. His body is warm against yours, and you can feel his heartbeat slowing down to a steady rhythm.

"Goodnight, Y-N," he whispers, his breath tickling your ear. "Sleep well."

[savyindeepspace]

Snowy Getaway ❄️

Tags: fem reader x Zayne, couple, anniversary, slow burn, smut, praise, aftercare, multiple spice scenes, longer read

Description: you and Zayne are celebrating your one year anniversary and he surprises in multiple ways.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Zayne always held a special place in your life. The shy and quiet child you knew since you were nine years old had grown into your closest friend. Zayne became a surgeon by 28 to fulfill what he felt was his life’s purpose. He swore to dedicate his career as a doctor to treat the Protocore Syndrome that plagued your heart after the Chronorift Catastrophe. Having a stern attitude towards your health never overshadowed his gentle touch and kind words. You knew there was warmth within him no matter how cold he appeared to others. Every moment spent in his presence always confirmed your growing desire. Secretly, he always loved you, but expressing emotions wasn’t his strongest trait. You made it easier for him to relax and confidently speak his mind. Now, after a year together, it was time to celebrate your anniversary. Zayne already made plans, but it was gnawing away at you to not know what they were. “Just trust me, love,” he reassured. You did, with your life as a matter of fact, but you were growing restless. “You’ll need clothes for snow, but bring a bathing suit as well,” he instructed. Where exactly was he taking you? Regardless, you packed what you thought was necessary for your getaway, wherever it could be. The last item tucked in your luggage was new lingerie. You admired the suggestive garment that would hopefully be thrown to the floor faster than being on your body. White and silver snowflakes were embroidered on the silky sky-blue fabric, lace details adorned the hem and it was short. When you first tried it on, your ass was barely covered. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips imagining the look on Zayne’s face when he’d slide it off your frame.

•••

Pacing around the living room, you finally felt the vibration of your phone. “I’m in the elevator right now, are you ready?,” Zayne asked. You giggled at his serious tone, “of course, I’ve been waiting on you.” “My apologies, I had a few last minutes reports to file. Now, can you open the door, please?” Just as the call disconnected, a knock echoed through your quiet apartment. Warmth surrounded you as Zayne’s arms tightly hugged your shoulders. You both exhaled sharply, it had been days since seeing each other and now you finally got a weekend to yourselves. Realizing you were standing in the open doorway, you began to pull away from his embrace. The doctor’s biceps flexed and he held you tighter against his chest, “I’m not done yet,” he murmured quietly. Your arms squeeze around his waist and wander up his back. His muscles were prominent and sculpted, even while hidden under his dress shirt. Lightly clawing the fabric, you breathe in Zayne’s scent. Clean and sanitary just like the hospital, but his crisp cologne lingered on his skin as well. He smelled like home regardless of where you were. Finally, you pull away and stare at each other. ‘I missed you’ was evident in your expression. Zayne swept his thumb over your bottom lip, “I missed you too.” You walked to the elevator while he rolled your luggage with his free hand. His BMW was quietly humming outside.

•••

Almost looking deliberately placed, a pamphlet for a cabin in Snowcrest was sitting in the car’s center console. Zayne conducted research there often, but you didn’t know the city doubled as a vacation spot. “Hm, ‘clothes for snow’ makes sense now. Still confused about needing a bathing suit though,” you mumble, buckling your seatbelt. Adjusting his mirrors, Zayne retorts, “it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you why you needed it, right?” You sigh and settle into the leather seat, “I guess you’re right.” Leaving your apartment complex behind, you stare out the passenger window.

•••

The drive was pleasant and quiet, you even slept during the last hour, occasionally hearing classical music fade in and out. Zayne suddenly patted your thigh and spoke lowly, “we’re here, love.” Groaning awake, your eyes take their time to open. It was bright compared to the darkness behind your eyelids. Soft, ivory snow blanketed the ground, trees and rooftop of the quaint cabin in front of you. “Home sweet home. Well, for this weekend at least,” Zayne announced, gesturing to the front door. The view was breathtaking. Sunlight leaked through the tree branches, making the snow appear dusted with glitter and just behind the cabin was a frozen lake. A cold breeze filled your nostrils with the scent of pine needles. “It’s perfect.” Making your way inside, you both stared at the intimate layout of this, according to the brochure, “Lover’s Cabin”. A red, heart-shaped bathtub caught your eye as you walked by the bathroom. Unironically, you could picture yourself in it with Zayne, sat snugly between his knees with bubbles towering past your shoulders. “I don’t know if my legs would even bend properly sitting in that,” he quipped. You poked his waist, “might be worth a try.” His ears reddened and he cleared his throat. Your boldness occasionally caught Zayne off guard, even after all this time.

•••

Unbeknownst to you, he had been there days prior. Stocking the small kitchen with supplies, booking ski lessons and a private day at a couple’s hot spring. You just took his absence as him being occupied with numerous meetings and surgeries. After unpacking, you excused yourself to shower. Once the door clicked behind you, Zayne felt in his coat for a small box. The necklace inside was still safely in place. He knew a proposal would be too early, so this was a promise of his devotion to you until that day came. When the water cut off, he shoved it back into his pocket and sighed nervously. “Everything alright, Zayne?,” you ask from the doorway, blotting your hair with a towel. “Just thought I forgot my toothbrush–found it,” he replied, hanging his coat in the closet.

•••

For the first night, he planned to make dinner and relax before your full itinerary the next day. The scent of dumpling soup wafted throughout the kitchen and dining room, you practically floated to the table from the aroma. A glass of wine was already waiting for you, its bittersweet taste crashed over your tongue like waves with the first sip. The dark red liquid burned your throat as you swallowed, leaving your full lips lightly stained. Zayne set down two full bowls and pulled out your chair before sitting across from you. “So, how long were you actually planning all of this?,” you prodded, bringing a spoonful of broth to your lips. The perfectly combined flavors poured over your taste buds, the dumplings were tender and savory. A satisfied chuckle vibrated from his chest, “just a few days, I’m happy to see you’re enjoying it so far.” Sipping your wine again, you squint at him over the rim of the glass. What else did this sly man have up his sleeve? After dinner, you lazily sank into the plush comforter on the bed, then rolled onto Zayne’s chest. Heat radiated off you like a furnace. The touch of the man beside you made your skin tingle as his hands traced light patterns on your back. Soft, lengthy ministrations caused your eyes to close, but not from tiredness. Arousal started to bloom between your legs and goosebumps prickled across your skin. Zayne’s fingertips ignited the flames in your core and having him alone–uninterrupted, only made that sensation harder to ignore.

•••

His heart rate thrummed wildly when your leg suddenly swung over his waist. He slid his large hand up your thigh, squeezing the flesh possessively. “Zayne…,” you whisper, wine lingered on your breath “I have something to show you.” You rose from the bed and disappeared into the walk-in closet. The lingerie you were dying to wear cascaded over your body like a waterfall, its silky material hugged your curves with tailored perfection. Patiently waiting for your return, Zayne froze as you appeared in his sight again, relaxed against the door frame. His eyes were wide and he stuttered, words trapped like a fly in a web. You sauntered to the edge of the bed, eyes lidded with lust. Your hands and knees dug into the mattress as you crawled toward him like a feline stalking her prey. His posture straightened against the headboard, calm breaths transformed into desperate panting. He was drinking in the vision of you. The way your back arched, skin glowed from the fireplace and cleavage spilled over the neckline of your night gown was enough to spike his blood pressure.

•••

Straddled on his lap, you laced your arms around Zayne’s neck. “Surprise,” you purred in his ear, tracing the lobe with your tongue. His breath hitched and hands latched to your waist, long fingers curling into the satin. “It looks like I wasn’t the only one planning something,” he exhaled, his cool breath blew loose hair away from your neck. Damp lips suddenly pressed to your skin and your body melts. Your long awaited hunger was finally being satiated. Tilting your head back to allow for more pecks, Zayne’s mouth lingered at your collarbone, teasing you with a gentle nibble. A whine escapes you, “mm, more…please,” your hips began to roll slowly against his bulge. He held you down firmly, rocking upwards to provide more friction, “shit…” Your fingers raked through his black hair, gripping the locks at the root. Wetness started to run down your legs. The satin gown rubbing against your breasts made your nipples harden, threatening to tear through the delicate fabric. Zayne’s erection became stiffened as it ground against you. Working open the buttons of his shirt, your breathing became ragged, desperate. “Ssh relax–,” he restrained your wrists gently, finishing the last of his buttons. Your freed hands ran down his bare chest and abdomen, flinching slightly when you feel the cool metal of his belt buckle.

•••

Zayne leaned forward and captured your lips in a chaste kiss, his tongue tangled with yours. You moaned into his mouth and tried to remove the belt impatiently. His hands layered over yours to assist in the process. Finally the sound of metal clicked from his waist and you pull the leather restraint from his pant loops. Zayne groaned deeply when your hand cupped his hardness. The heat coming off his clothed cock was enough to scorch your palm. Steady hands grazed up your sides underneath the lingerie, “as beautiful as you look in this, I’d like for it to come off now,” he whispered. You meet his gaze and nod, raising your arms up. The night gown glides off your curves hastily and falls to the floor. A harsh breath catches in your throat when the sensation of Zayne’s tongue swept over your nipple. Him kneading the flesh of your breast and sucking the overstimulated peak made your eyes roll back. A wet spot began to spread on his unbuttoned pants from your needy writhing. With his other hand, Zayne feathered his fingertips through your soaked folds before plunging inside. “So wet, already,” he growled. You whimper, grinding greedily against his slender digits.

•••

“Zayne…I want more, please,” you beg. His arm ropes around you and you’re swiftly positioned on your back. “Only because you said please,” he teased, pressing a soft kiss against your temple. You sigh, hands fisting the sheets at either side of your hips. Zayne left a trail of wet kisses down your stomach. He paused at your hips and sunk his teeth into the skin, earning him a broken moan. “Mmm,” he moaned, ghosting his lips randomly on your inner thighs. Your back began to arch off the bed but was held down by Zayne’s strength. “No squirming,” his breath teased at your entrance. A languid swipe of his tongue over your pussy made you whine. You cry out again and again as he shatters your nerves with his mouth. His handsome nose bullied your clit to reckless abandon. Each lick, suck and rub against your aching sex rendered you weak. “Should I continue?” Zayne asked, lapping away at your essence. “P-please,” you beg, looking at him through hooded eyes. His lips, wet and glistening stretch into a lustful grin.

•••

Zayne bent down to kiss you again, your unique taste mixed with remnants of wine melted on your tongue. The sound of rustling fabric filled the room as any remaining clothing abandoned his lower half. He grabbed the backs of your knees and locked both legs around his waist. “Eyes on me,” his command was gentle, yet firm. Slowly, the tip grazed your entrance, making you mewl impatiently. “Ssh, almost there,” he soothed. Zayne filled you entirely, grunting softly when he bottomed out. “Ooh god…,” you gasp, nails dug into his back, leaving small indents behind. He steadily slid his cock in and out, hazel eyes studying your pleasured expression. Your walls squeeze his length and the man above you shutters. “If you keep doing that I’ll–nng!,” he almost collapsed trying to maintain his composure. You clenched again purposefully, hoping it would elicit more strokes from him. Granting your silent plea, his hips began to rock aggressively. “Yes, yes Zayne! Please don’t stop!,” you cry. Your breathing became uneven as the coil in your gut wounded tightly, just waiting to snap.

•••

A bruising kiss muffled your pleasured sobs as Zayne’s hips erratically slapped against you. The intense friction was invigorating and you felt your climax bubbling like a geyser. Sweat misted your skin like morning dew, making it glow under the dim lighting. “Cum for me, please,” Zayne instructed, tenderly cradling your cheek. You took his hand and put two fingers in your mouth, sucking the salty skin and remnants of your wetness. He retrieved his hand and began to rub torturous circles on your clit. “Mm–don’t stop, baby. Please…,” you moan, rolling your hips to match his pace. Simultaneously you increase the momentum, bated breathes thickened the air between you. The coil finally broke as Zayne shoved himself deep, pushing you into a mating press. Your orgasm explodes and you cum messily, “Zaaayne!,” you scream. Hearing his name shrieked so desperately was enough for him to falter. Zayne’s climax followed, pouring his release into your throbbing center. His body trembled as he slowly pulled out and you whine at the emptiness that followed.

•••

Your spent bodies collapse onto the bed, chests still heaving. Soft kisses trail from the back of your hand, up your forearm, “I love you,” Zayne professes. You stroke his rosy cheek with your thumb, “I love you, more.” Sleep crept over you and your bodies moulded together. The sound of soft breathing was the only noise made throughout the night as snow silently fell outside the window.

~*~*~*~

Sunlight filtered through the shear drapes. Zayne’s body intertwined with yours as he held you against his chest. The faint chirping of birds acted as a natural alarm and you opened your eyes. Running your finger over Zayne’s features, you admired his sleeping face. His body stirred to your touch and you felt strong arms tighten around you like vines. “Good morning,” he murmured into the crook of your neck. You ran your fingers lazily up his back, “morning.” The sanctuary that was your king size bed could ensnare you for the entire weekend, but you had to be at your ski lesson by ten A.M. After a quick shower and breakfast, you dressed in layers and waited patiently for Zayne to pull up the GPS route. Admittedly, you were a bit rusty when it came to skiing but you felt more confident knowing your big snowman would be there to catch you if you fell. Stomping your way through ankle-deep snow, you both met with the ski instructor and got acquainted. “Is this your first time?,” she asked buckling your foot into each ski. “He’s more experienced than me, I haven’t been in years,” you reply, meeting Zayne’s gaze. He braced his hands on your shoulders, “you’ll do great.”

•••

Sitting side by side on the lift, your thighs pressed together nervously. Being a Hunter meant you faced harsh trials frequently, but being this high made your stomach churn. Sensing your unease, Zayne squeezed your gloved hand. Your tense muscles loosened and you leaned into him. “We’ll need to jump soon, are you ready?” As much as you wanted to say no, adrenaline began to surge through your veins. 3, 2, 1…landing in the powdery snow, you soared down the mountain, chilled wind biting at your cheeks. Keeping your knees softly bent, you weaved back and forth with grace. Zayne followed closely behind and couldn’t help but smile to himself watching you race to the bottom. Your pulse drummed loudly in your ears as you were nearing the end of the course. Remembering the instructions from earlier, you pivot your body abruptly, skis kicking up a misty wall of ice. A harsh breath rips from your mouth and you collapse from exhaustion. “Hey–are you alright?,” Zayne asked, his voice laced with concern. “Ah!?,” taking him by surprise, you yank him on top of you. His nose and cheeks were flushed from the cold and you giggled at his annoyed expression. “I’m great! Who knew that muscle memory would return after all this time?,” you exclaim. Zayne’s face relaxed and he joined in your laughter, “I’m proud of you. I knew you could do it.” You laid in the snow a while longer, watching delicate flakes descend from the sky. After warming up with a cup of cocoa, you headed to your next destination.

•••

The car crawled up winding hills lined with towering trees. Finally a sign came into view that read ‘Historical Snowcrest Hot Springs’, just what you needed to defrost your chilled bones. “Welcome in, your name for the reservation?,” a receptionist greeted. “Zayne Li, for the private hot spring, please.” Well, you knew why you needed your bathing suit now, but you didn’t expect to have privacy as an added bonus. You and Zayne were given robes, slippers and towels before being directed to separate changing rooms. You shimmy into your bikini and meet him outside. Steam rose off the water, creating transparent clouds of mist against the cold air. Zayne’s back faced you, the deep hot spring surrounded his shoulders. You sank in slowly beside him and he turned to watch you. A relieved exhale leaves you as the hot water engulfed your body. “You keep surprising me, Dr. Zayne,” you said, laying your legs over his lap. His arm looped around your waist, “After a full day of skiing, we definitely need to relax, doctor’s orders.” You didn’t anticipate any of this, but you were overflowing with gratitude. Every detail about this trip was thoroughly executed and you knew only Zayne could plan something this spectacular.

•••

You kissed him, tangling your fingers in his damp hair. “Thank you for everything. I’ve never known happiness like this before being with you.” He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, “of course, you should know how happy you make me as well.” Your gazes linger for a moment before your eyes fall to Zayne’s lips again. “You know, we have this entire hot spring to ourselves. No one will walk in on us,” Zayne whispers, his eyes were framed by his dark lashes and glossed with mirth. “Zayne!,” pink blush flooded your cheeks. Before you could scold him further, your lips were captured in a sensual kiss. Zayne’s hands traveled down, firmly squeezing your ass. A gasp bursts from your mouth when you felt his teeth graze your throat. The spring water’s temperature suddenly felt hotter around you. “I want you—,” he rasped, “now.” Your bodies were pressed against each other and his hands bared down on your hips. He rocked you back and forth, the friction elicited quiet moans from your lips. “M-mm..,” you failed to speak as you ground greedily against his growing hard-on. “More?,” he asked, holding your hips still. “Please,” you whine breathlessly.

•••

Loosening his grip, he rewarded you with a harsh roll into your core, “good girl.” You laced your arms around him, “are you sure we’re alone?” Zayne leaned in to kiss your neck, “mhmm, promise.” The tie around your neck loosed between his fingers and your top fell, exposing your breasts to the chilled air. You pressed against Zayne’s chest for warmth and writhe your aching sex into him. He kissed down your shoulder and across your collar bone, “hold on tighter,” he instructed. You brace against him and he leaned back into a more comfortable position. “I can see your face better this way,” his voice was low and hungry. Biting your lip, you began to move your hips faster, “Zayne…mmn.” His fingers clawed at the waistline of your bikini, slowly making their way to the ties on each hip. “Off?,” he whispered. “Yes…please..,” you breathe. Your bottoms slipped off with precision. Zayne threw them to the side before returning his grip to your waist. He kissed you slowly, as if to memorize the curve of your lips. his tongue swirled around yours, writing poems on the insides of your cheeks.

•••

“Please, let me taste you,” you plead. Zayne complied and sat on the ledge, his eyes bored into you as you lowered into the water. Nestled between his thighs, waist deep in the hot spring, you kiss from his navel to the tip of his cock. You held him at the base and ran your tongue along the veiny underside, slowly stroking him with one hand. “Touch yourself, too,” he commanded. Looking up at him, mouth full, you pressed two fingers against your swollen clit. The first rub makes you moan against him and Zayne’s body tenses. “That feels…so good,” he praised between ragged breaths. You bobbed up and down, making a mess on his lower abdomen. His hands palmed your wet hair, gently pushing you further down. “You’re taking me so well, just a little more,” he purred before releasing your head. Zayne pulled you up into his lap and kissed you sloppily, barely giving you a chance to breathe. The tingling between your legs still lingered from your own ministrations.

“Ride me..,” he growled. Using his shoulders for support, you positioned yourself and slid down slowly. Zayne filled you even deeper than the night before. He gasped when you reached the bottom, “god, so warm. Just let me feel you for a bit.” You desperately wanted to grind, to bounce, anything. “Zayne..,” the lack of movement became unbearable and you were losing patience. Zayne took your hands in his, “slowly...” Your hips rose and sank, feeling the length of his cock against your walls made you weak. “Mmmm. Can I please go faster?” His hands scooped under your ass and pulled you close, pumping into you at an agonizing pace.

•••

Pressure was building in your core from Zayne’s heavy thrusts. Your eyes locked onto his dazed expression, he was absolutely drunk with lust. The way your pussy accepted him deeper with every stroke was a reminder that this was where he belonged. His face glistened with sweat and when you kissed the taste of salt lingered on your lips. Suddenly he lifted you off his lap, “turn around,” Zayne flipped you over, your hot skin stung against the cold earth. A hiss rips from your teeth and you claw at the ground, searching for anything to hold. Warm fingers spread you open and you’re reintroduced to the inches that filled you so perfectly. Zayne’s solid abdomen slapped roughly against your ass, sending ripples through each cheek. Both of his palms pressed into the small of your back, “fuck,” thrust “you feel,” thrust “amazing,” his tip tapped your cervix as he dug into you. “Zayne…I-I’m gonna—,” one last shove and your orgasm spills over. Chills spread through you and goosebumps bud on your skin. “Ah–mmm!,” broken moans and sobs are all you can muster as the friction begins again. Zayne’s movements became erratic as he chased his climax. He gripped your hips firmly, pulling you into him as he dug deeper and deeper. “Fuck baby, I can’t hold back anymore,” you felt a sudden emptiness as he pulled out. Messily stroking himself, he gasped for air as he came on your back, his warm release pooled in the valley of your spine.

•••

You felt a heavy weight against you as Zayne’s body collapsed. He peppered kisses down your neck and between your shoulder blades. The soft texture of a towel smoothed over your skin as he cleaned you up. You hummed softly and faced your lover. His skin was flushed and glowing, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, “you look so beautiful.” The sky was painted a blend of orange and red as the sun began to set. Changing out of your robe, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your face looked radiant, the post-sex glow was apparent and you giggled, hoping the receptionist wouldn’t make any comments. “Thank you for coming!,” she said as you walked out the door, you and Zayne glance at each other and smirk. The drive back to the cabin wasn’t rushed. Stars brightly twinkled in the sky and you admired the view before the heavy weight of sleep conquered your eyes.

•••

You woke up on the couch under a flannel blanket. Zayne was in the kitchen making dinner again, this time you smelled braised meat and roasted vegetables. He stood over the counter and you quietly walked behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re awake,” he hummed. His skin smelled faintly of body wash and cologne as you nuzzled into his back. “I’m not sure what made me so tired,” you teased. A small chuckle rattled his frame, “well if you need help sleeping again, I know just what to do.” You pinch his sides and withdraw from his warmth. “Can I help with anything? It smells delicious in here.” Zayne gestured to a bottle of champagne, “could you open that, please?” Holding the bottle over the sink, you released the cork with a loud pop and white foam poured over your fingers. You walked to the dining room and filled two champagne flutes, looking over the candle lit table setting. Zayne placed your plate down and moved behind you, pulling out your chair. You watched him walk to the other side, his hand was resting over his pants pocket. “I feel so spoiled,” you said looking into Zayne’s hazel eyes. His sharp features were softened by the candlelight, so handsome and gentle. “Well, one year anniversaries only happen once, I wanted this to be special,” his voice was soft and earnest. “It is. You’re special too,” you profess. Blush dusts his cheeks and he clears his throat, “thank you.”

•••

You both return to the couch, Zayne hands you your champagne, “cheers to one year,” he pauses, “and to many, many more.” Your glasses clink and you sip together, his face twists from the bitter taste. “You don’t have to drink that y’know,” you laugh. “I thought I’d try. Although, I wouldn’t want a repeat of the chocolate incident,” he said setting his glass on the table. You smile at the memory of that night, taking care of a very drunk, stubborn Zayne who wouldn’t take his hangover pills. He takes your hands in his, his expression was serious. “I have something else to say…I want to spend the next decade with you. If it were possible, I’d spend centuries by your side. I don’t want to lose you.” Your chest grew tight, “you’ll never lose me.” A the lump formed in your throat after hearing his confession. “Close your eyes,” Zayne instructed, “and lift your hair for me.” Moving away the strands from your neck, you felt a cool sensation against your skin. Zayne clasped the necklace he had been so desperate to see lay on your chest. The delicate gold chain was weighed down by a sapphire pendant in the shape of a jasmine flower. On the back, a small engraving of the date was carved into one of its petals. A single tear rolled down your cheek, “it’s beautiful, thank you.” He brushed his thumb over your skin, “you won’t have to water this one, it will always be in bloom.”

•••

Your lips melted into his, the kiss was long and slow, a promise of devotion that didn’t need words. Zayne pressed his forehead to yours, letting your breaths mingle. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears when his lips met yours again and again. He held you so close that you felt his pulse thrumming in tandem with your own. “I’ll always be by your side,” you whispered in his ear and kissing the lobe lightly. Zayne’s body relaxed to the sound of your voice. Taking your wrist in his hand, he pressed your palm to his chest, “until it stops beating and even after that, my heart will always belong to you.”

•••

The weekend was over and you felt reluctant to return home. ‘Home’. That word had a new meaning since you weren’t alone this time. Home was where he was and that was right beside you. Forever.

~*~*~*~

End.

Readers note: thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed!! :)