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uzumaki-rebellion · 3 months ago

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Preview.... "Lick Back 2"

Lick Back 2 by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Angst, Domestic Drama, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Blood & Violence, Drug References, AITA!Terry Richmond.

Summary: Terry Richmond didn't expect to become a father over night. A surprising photo in the mail reveals that an illicit affair he had with a married woman eleven months ago resulted in a baby girl named after him. Ecstatic to be a new dad, he races to South Carolina to reunite with Nova, and bring their new family to Louisiana for Christmas. Unfortunately, Nova's estranged husband Jordan has different plans.

Preview Word Count: 3.6K

Arriving in full on Christmas Eve! Tell a friend! Part 1 HERE.

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"I took one look at you

And it was plain to see

You were my destiny

With you I'll spend my time

I'll dedicate my life

I'll sacrifice for you

Dedicate my life for you"

Method Man & Mary J. Blige—"You're All I Need"

Terry Richmond couldn't stop looking at the eight by eleven color photo he received in the mail.

Terrina Richmond.

He had a daughter. A two-month-old baby girl.

His mind raced with so many chaotic thoughts. He'd had an affair with a married woman and she left him to salvage her wreck of a marriage in South Carolina. Terry spent months trying to forget her, poured himself into his work, and blotted out the memory of Nova Patterson.

The last time they made love, he nearly broke the bed, pulling out his best erotic moves to keep her. By his calculations, that was when he impregnated her. They loved each other, but ultimately, he had to let her go. She belonged to someone else and already had an infant son. Who was he to prevent a reconciliation of a family?

He worked day and night, taking on extra hours, even requested deployment overseas to get away from Nova haunting him with her beauty, kindness, and intelligence. He wished the world for her, but couldn't bear to be in the states knowing he couldn't have her.

The big bosses denied his request. They wanted his skills building up their elite soldiers in Oceanside. Make more war machines. Oorah.

Terry booked a flight to Charleston the moment he hung up the phone with Nova. An hour later he still sat on his couch wondering who to confess his shocking news to. His first inclination was to reach out to his family, but he wasn't ready to explain the circumstances of fathering a child with a married woman to his parents just yet. His closest friends Von and Bethany were next in line, but he could already hear Bethany chewing him out for being no different than Jordan, with Von nodding his head in agreement. Telling his homegirl Angie would only result in a flying fist socking him in the jaw.

He had accrued ninety days of leave time that he planned on using up for Nova and Terrina. His godson Junior, too. He stroked his chin. Junior would become his stepson now. A bonus child. Nova gave him purpose. He had a family to care for.

Terry cancelled his flight.

Nova would have a ton of things to bring back with the children. He would drive there instead of flying and rent a U-Haul cargo trailer in Charleston. Nova could take what she wanted and he would buy anything else she needed once they returned to Oceanside. He glanced around his condo. They could stay in his place until the lease ended the following summer and then look for a new home big enough for the four of them.

Four.

How strange. He woke up that morning a single man living a solitary life. Now he was responsible for three other people. He wanted to marry Nova as soon as possible, that way he could get them on his health insurance. Terry grinned. He moved like a man with a plan.

Packing more clothes for an extended trip, the reality sank in further. He was a father. He stopped to look at his daughter again. She had his ears. Funny how he hadn't noticed it before. Terrina's eyes struck him first, but then all the other little details jumped out. She was his mama's color. Terry got his eyes from his maternal grandmamma and his ears from his paternal grandpa. Terrina repped both sides of his family like him. He sat down on his bed and rocked his body, staring at her picture like it was going to disappear if he stopped looking at her.

That was his baby girl.

Nova carried her while enduring the stress of an unraveling marriage. His woman needed peace and a home fit for a queen. He was determined to give it to her. Texting his parents, he sent them a quick message that he had to postpone coming to Louisiana because of work.

He stopped by his local coffee shop and loaded up on an egg white breakfast sandwich and coffee. Hitting the road by noon, he headed east after texting Nova that he was driving and would arrive in Charleston within two days. She sent him another picture of Terrina and Junior. He smiled so hard in his truck after taking a restroom break. Junior was nearly two years old, and it shocked Terry that he didn't look like Jordan anymore. The boy had Nova's face dipped in milk chocolate. He noticed that she'd typed the names Terrina and Novan. He typed the name Novan with a question mark. A minute later, she sent a message that she legally changed her son's name to hers. His nickname was Van-Van. Yeah, she was really done with Jordan if she yanked his son's name away from him. That shit was tough.

"My baby girl will never have that problem," he muttered, heading onto the freeway again.

Terry drove non-stop, only taking breaks when the truck needed gas. He loaded up with a bunch of Big Macs from McDonald's in Dallas, and his heart started beating wildly. Sitting in the parking lot, he inhaled deeply several times and listened to one of his meditation apps. On the verge of a panic attack unless he spoke to someone about his sudden anxiety at meeting his daughter, he called Bethany and confessed everything.

"I'm sitting here freaking out, Bethany. I just want to get to South Carolina and see Nova…hold my baby, but right now I'm losing it. Cuss me out, yell at me, I don't care…I just needed to talk to someone I trusted who knows me…knows I wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone on purpose. Not even Jordan."

Bethany gave a long sigh. He waited for a shrill tone to rip his ear apart.

"Terry, I have to be honest with you. Nova called and told me everything a month ago."

"She what? A month ago?"

"Don't be upset. She was scared and didn't have anyone supporting her. Her family flipped out…Jordan's family flipped. Jordan is on a downward spiral. It's a shitshow out there…but I promised her I wouldn't say anything until she was ready to face you. Go easy on her, okay?"

"I'm glad she has you," he finally said after a long pause.

"You should be glad to have me, too. I should kick your butt, though."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything about her…and me."

"Didn't have to. I already knew something was up. I just hoped you two would've ended it quietly without all this blowback. You make a pretty baby, though. She looks just like you and your mom."

"I'm nervous Bethany…a little scared. I'm thrilled to have Terrina…it's just…I'm halfway across the country ready to uproot Nova from her hometown. Am I doing the right thing for her and the baby? I mean…she has Junior…Van-Van. Can I take him away from his father like this?"

"She reached out and wants you to come for her. That's all you need to concern yourself with. I'll let her tell you herself what's been going on, but that is your family now. Jordan should be an afterthought in your mind."

"I want to marry her."

"Get her out of Charleston first. Text me when you get there."

"Does Von know?"

"No. This is something he needs to hear from you when you get back."

"Thank you for being there…for the both of us."

"You have a darling little two-month-old who needs her daddy. Drive safe, Terry. Love you."

Terry sat in the truck, feeling better. Bethany didn't hate him. He texted Nova despite the late hour in her time-zone.

He started the truck and drove closer to his love.

Terry sat in a parking lot of a Target store in a town just outside of Charleston on Sunday morning. He wanted to buy gifts for Nova and the baby, but the store didn't open until seven. The weather was already hot, and he rolled the windows down to wait three hours. He contemplated waiting at a Jack in the Box parking lot, but there were two cop cars there and the last thing he wanted was to attract the attention of the police outside of a fast-food joint at four in the morning.

He spent time on his smartphone looking up all the things he had to do legally to establish paternity. DNA test. Filing the results with the court. It would probably be a hassle to take Jordan's name off the birth certificate, but Terry would spend whatever money it took to pay all court fees to do so. He'd need to get a lawyer in Charleston to navigate everything.

The store opened, and he grabbed a cart, rolling it to the children's section. There was no sales associate around to ask about sizes, so he looked at infant clothing that claimed to fit newborns up to two months. He bought a fancy box of chocolate for Nova's grandmother who she stayed with after leaving her brother's home. Flowers for Nova. Baby balloons. A clunky-looking Captain America action figure for Van-Van. It took him a minute to find the Black one. Sam Wilson. It was going to be all Black everything in their household. Terry paused in the toy section. He imagined his life being like Von and Bethany's, raising two children and being happy. Von always went home to a happy wife and happy children. Sending up a prayer to God, he wanted to provide the same life for Nova and his new family.

He paid for everything at check-out and rolled his cart out to the truck. Bethany was right about Target. You can't ever go inside and come out with the one thing you went in for. He spent over two hundred dollars on all kinds of toys for his daughter and bonus son.

Terry smelled like long hours on the road and stopped at a café to purchase a blueberry muffin that gave him access to the restroom. He washed up, brushed his teeth, and changed into fresh clothes he carried in a backpack. By the time he hit the road again, he was ready to face his future. Following the directions on his GPS, he admired the old buildings and the slow pace of Charleston's southern charm. That went out the window when a palmetto bug flew into the truck. A goddamn flying roach. Hell nah!

He rolled up his windows and put on the air conditioner. The directions showed that he still had an hour to reach Edisto Island. He leaned into the steering wheel once he started crossing the McKinley-Washington Bridge that led to Nova. The Dawhoo River below him looked like mysterious black water. The tannins seeping out of decaying trees turned the water a dark tea-color. Nova once explained that the word "Edisto" meant "black" and was also the name of the indigenous people who lived there, including her Gullah kin, from way back.

His heart palpitated, and he started breathing faster when he reached the street where Mrs. Mariam Walker, the matriarch of Nova's family lived. He smelled the heavy scent of the sea and the river. The house was only a few blocks away from Edisto Beach. Everything around him had been built by Gullah hands. Homes. The bridge. Docks. Churches. Everything.

He passed Mrs. Walker's house because there was no parking available on both sides of the street. Making a U-Turn, he found a spot where a driver left in a brown van. He glanced over at the large white house with the double stairs leading to another stairway that led up to a semi-wrap-around porch. Several older Black men and a couple of men Terry's age stood on the porch looking his way. They built the old house high to avoid flooding, and it seemed like it should've been on a heritage museum tour. He typed into his phone.

I'M HERE.

He put on a stoic expression to face Nova's male relatives. They probably weren't thrilled to see him approaching the house.

The front door flew open and Nova dashed out. She ran down the top stairs first and waited on the landing, her eyes searching the street. When she fixed her gaze on him, she covered her mouth and jumped up twice before running down the left set of stairs, hurtling forward like a comet to greet him. He moved so fast people could've sworn he had wings on his feet like Mercury.

"Terry!" she cried out.

A bunch of women exited the house to watch them.

The moment Nova reached him, he lifted her up high. She hugged his neck so tight that she almost cut off his circulation. He set her down, and they held each other. Embracing her was like having a missing puzzle piece slipped back into its proper place. It was hard to look at her without the tears in his eyes making it difficult to see. She trembled in his arms and every hitched breath she took tore at his heart. He had been a fool to let her go. Sparing another man's feelings in a wasted act of nobility cost him time with the woman he loved and a daughter he hadn't met yet. Lying to Jordan about not sleeping with Nova had been the wrong choice to make eleven months ago. He should've come clean and faced the music back then. It cost him his own happiness. Cost him sharing the journey of Terrina's birth.

He touched and smelled Nova's fragrant hair. She still carried the scent of sugar cookies and strawberries on her skin. Her cornflower blue wrap dress sat snug around her figure. Having babies just made her look enchanting to him.

"Told you…told you I would come the moment you needed me," he said.

She nodded, and they pressed their foreheads together.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

She burst into tears. He rocked her in his arms, saying her name over and over.

"Are the babies inside?" he asked.

"Van-Van is with Jordan for the weekend. Terrina is inside with my mother and grandmother."

Nova wiped her wet face and puffy eyes.

"Ready to meet your daughter?"

He laughed out loud, and then bit down on his tongue gently to keep himself from leaking more water out of his eyes. He wiped his face and glanced at the welcoming committee on the porch.

"Mawmaw cooked a big Sunday breakfast and invited the family over to see you," she said.

"See me, or beat my ass?" he joked.

Nova's eyes welled up. He stroked her arms.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Bethany told me you're having it rough here. I gotta take that weight off of you. I'm the one who got you pregnant…I'm the one who'll fix all of this, too."

He kissed her forehead. She kept her cute pixie cut and fixed her baby hairs to look like curling ocean waves. He rubbed her back. She rested her head on his chest, unable to look at him.

"Terry…I didn't know she was yours. Jordan and I got back together, and I tried to put you away in my heart. He started messing up out here…I left him…but I still thought she was his. I wasn't hiding her from you…I wasn't trying to keep her a secret from Jordan, either. I didn't realize until after she was born that she wasn't his. I was so frightened of what would happen to me and her when everyone found out what I did. People in my family called me a whore…and Jordan…"

She wept. He soothed her as best as he could.

"Just think about us…okay? Hold on to us and I promise, Nova…things are going to get better."

"Okay."

She wiped her nose and inhaled deeply to calm herself down. He clasped her hand in his, and she walked him up the steps. Her family members held paper plates of food and hushed their talking as Terry looked at them.

"Everyone, this is Terry…Terry Richmond. Terrina's father."

"We can see dat. Can't miss his chirren at all."

The other relatives tittered under their breath. An older woman in her eighties pushed a walker and Nova's family parted to give her room so her eyes could track Terry up and down. She had slightly wrinkled, dark pecan-brown skin and gray hair clipped short. Mariam Walker…Mawmaw.

"I see una have no shame coming here after putting a baby in her the wrong way."

"Mawmaw," Nova whispered.

"Ma'am, I'm not here to upset you. I want to meet my daughter and be with Nova."

"Be with Nova?"

Mawmaw sucked her teeth and pointed at Nova with an accusatory finger.

"Look ya. Dat is a married 'ooman. You a comeya, messing up the peace of dis family."

"Ma'am, I don't mean any disrespect—"

"Tie yuh mout!" Mawmaw shrieked.

A female relative stepped forward.

"Okay now, Mawmaw…my Lord, let the man get inside the house first before y'all put all they business in the street. Hi Terry, I'm Cornelia…Nova's aunt. People call me Nella. Come inside. Mawmaw is going to fuss no matter what you say."

Nella walked toward the screen and opened it for Terry. She was forty-ish, heavyset, and a shade darker than Nova, but had the same sparkling brown eyes.

"I have some things in the truck to bring in," Terry said.

"Go get 'em, then," Nella said with a warm smile.

Terry walked back down to the truck with Nova. He collected the flowers and gave them to her. Her face brightened up with the full, colorful bouquet in her hands. He grabbed the balloons, Terrina's bag of baby clothes, and chocolate, then headed back to the house with Nova by his side.

"This is for you, ma'am…Mawmaw," he said.

Mawmaw looked at the big box of expensive Godiva chocolate shells, and her eyes widened; surprised that he was giving her something.

"He tryna butter her up," one of the older men snickered.

Nella waved for him to keep moving.

"Tote all that in here, Terry, c'mon now. Can't let these no-see-ums in the house."

Terry glanced at Nova.

"Mosquitos. The ones here will eat you up and you won't even see them," Nova said.

He grinned hard enough to show his gums.

"They've been eating me up since I got here."

Nova led him inside the quaint living room filled with old, cared-for furniture and several sizes of intricately woven tan baskets with dark brown geometric patterns woven in the detail that decorated the corners. The interior smelled of good southern cooking and something else, something that the west coast didn't quite have yet: the odor of history. His hometown in Louisiana had it. All the south and the east coast had it in abundance. Compared to the south, the west was still young and feeling its oats.

Old family pictures cluttered a mantle, and so many people were crammed inside that it made Terry feel like the Jolly Green Giant. He definitely was the tallest person there. His eyes were drawn to a large painting above the mantle of elongated ebony figures showcasing men, women, and children dressed in clothing from the 1930s with blue-black skin and featureless faces. The painting seemed to be the focal point of the room that gave it a cozy feel rooted in a proud lineage.

Three women Mawmaw's age sat on a couch wearing their good Sunday wigs. They scrutinized everything on him. Somewhere out back, the excited voices of children playing added a comforting noise.

Nova took the bag of clothes from him and set them on an empty chair.

"Hello…I'm Terry, pleased to see everyone," he said.

Mawmaw shuffled in with her walker and Nella helped her sit down on an old rocking chair.

"Dis him," Mawmaw said to the ladies on the couch.

Nova introduced him to everyone present. He became eager to make a good impression despite the hard stares and thin-lipped expressions from the elders. All he needed was a knife to cut the simmering animosity in the front room. A giant bible sat propped open on a bookstand next to Mawmaw's rocker. A huge brown lacquered cross hung next to a picture of a tawny Jesus on the wall behind her seat. Terry took in the context clues and understood quickly that he was in a serious religious household. That meant their situation would never be acceptable to MawMaw. The matriarch's frigid brown eyes stared him down like she was going to turn him into a pillar of salt.

A baby's cry interrupted the family showdown.

Mawmaw's eyes immediately softened, and she tried to stand up too fast, almost losing her balance.

"My great-grandbaby is calling for me," Mawmaw said, or at least that's what Terry made out.

The shrill cry shattered the peace again, and Terry felt a lump grow in his throat. He imprinted that sound to memory. That was his daughter. His first time hearing her.

Nella gently pushed Mawmaw back in her seat.

"Bring ha," Mawmaw said.

"Mawmaw…Terry needs to see his baby. He come three thousand miles. Man is probably tired and hungry rushing here. Let him have his time alone with Terrina," Nella said.

Nova placed her flowers on an end table near one of the older adult men sitting in the room and grabbed Terry's hand.

"Come…she's back here," Nova said.

Her eyes were shiny with pride and love.

They moved past family members who ogled his height and muscular build. His body looked big and battle ready from all of his military training. Moving through a short hallway, they skipped past two other bedrooms and made their way to the last one.

A.N: Hope you enjoyed the preview! Be ready for more on Christmas Eve! This one will be a little longer than Part 1, but I don't think y'all mind! One of the best ways to support Black fanfiction writers that doesn't cost a dime is to reblog & comment. We thrive off of kind words to keep us going, and it's always great to extend our reach to new readers. In 2025 I'm making more of an effort to get my stories out to as many Black women as possible. We are in our #RestEra and deserve nice things to come home to for our reading pleasure. Okay, off to finish this thing. It's already over 18,000 words, lol!

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#Lick Back 2 Preview #Lick Back 2 #Terry Richmond #Rebel Ridge #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge fanfiction #terry richmond smut #Uzumaki Rebellion #Christmas 2024 #Black Fanfiction #Black Fanfiction Writer #terry richmond x oc #Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

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inkedbydesire · 4 months ago

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Extortion (18+)

Jimmy Uso x Black Fem Reader

(Part 2)

Warning: 18+ Content, detailed storyline with SMUT, MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Summary: Eight months into your relationship with Jonathan Fatu (aka Jimmy Uso), things start to feel strained. When you first met Jonathan, you had no idea who he was, as you weren't into sports, so you had no knowledge of his WWE legacy or the spotlight it would bring. As his girlfriend, you were now facing pressures you never expected, and the constant attention was beginning to take a toll on your mental health. In an effort to reconnect and help you clear your head, Jonathan decides to take you on a five-day trip to Costa Rica, promising a distraction-free escape. At a private villa, you both agree to turn off your phones and focus on nothing but each other. On the morning of your final day, you and Jonathan get carried away on the balcony, unaware that you're being watched…

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: This will be my first shot at writing on here so please bear with me. I apologize in advance for any grammar errors or typos.

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"I just feel like you always mad at me over some shit that I can't fully control"

There it was. You and Jonathan were finally having the conversation you'd both been avoiding since arriving in Costa Rica four days ago. The first few days had been filled with beach relaxation, dining out, and exploring shops—anything to distract from the real reason for this sudden vacation. But now, on the sun-drenched balcony of the private villa you and Jonathan were sharing, it was time to confront the elephant in the room and address the growing distance between you two.

"I just didn't think it would be this hard Jon." You stated to him as you shifted your eyes from the intensity of his stare down to the watermelon you were currently having for breakfast. You picked up your fork and pushed the pieces around for a split second before deciding you weren't hungry.

"You didn't think what would be this hard baby?" Jonathan's voice was soft as he leaned closer, his cold pancakes and bacon long forgotten as he fully focused on nothing but you.

"Being in this relationship." you confessed, finally voicing what you'd been holding in for months. You loved him deeply and understood that all relationships had their challenges, but sometimes it felt like things were harder than they needed to be.

If you'd known then what you knew now, eight months ago, when you met Jonathan at the gym, you might have thought twice about giving him your number. But as the memory crept back into your mind you knew you were lying to yourself. He had you the moment his eyes locked on yours.

8 months ago you decided to fulfill your cliché New Year's resolution of hitting the gym more. You were desperately in need of a fresh start so you picked a new gym that was miles away from your old one. On one particular night, you couldn't fall asleep no matter what you tried, so around 1 am, you drove to that gym to see what it was like. Luckily for you when you arrived there were only about 3 other people in attendance. The normal people obviously sleeping at this hour. You quickly walked over and blended in with the others as you placed your AirPods in and began your routine.

About 20 minutes into your workout, that was when you first noticed him.

You were minding your business until you glanced over and almost choked on the water you were sipping. Damn, you thought, as your eyes involuntarily traveled from his neatly braided hair down to his broad shoulders. He was lifting weights, his back flexing with every rep unbeknownst to him feeding into your weird quirk for backs. If he looked this good from behind you couldn't help but wonder how much better it got from the front.

You soon got the answer to your inquiry as the man abruptly turned around and caught you staring. He indeed did look better from the front something you weren't at all surprised about. Your heart fell to your ass as you wondered if he could feel you watching him. Was that why he turned around so suddenly? You awkwardly held eye contact with him for a few seconds then sheepishly went back to your routine. But still, you just couldn't keep your eyes off of him. You felt like a creep as every so often your eyes would wander over to him only to be caught again and again. But yet ....... you swore that some of those times he was already the first one looking.

On maybe your 5th time of being caught he surprisingly started walking over to you. When he made it to where he was standing right in front of you, you removed your AirPods to give him your undivided attention.

"You don't have to be scared to approach me." He said his voice deep and playful sending a shiver through you.

"I don't bite or nothing." He added with a smile that made your knees almost give out on you. You assumed that he was boldly saying that you shouldn't be afraid to shoot your shot. But then he soon revealed that he was a Pro Wrestler who was signed with the WWE and he thought you were eyeballing him because you were too shy to ask for an autograph. It was a funny misunderstanding and you quickly explained to him that you didn't know him from anywhere which he took absolutely no offense to as you both laughed it off. You still had to come up with a reason for why you were watching him though. You opted to go with honesty and told him it was because you found him attractive. You weren't normally that up front but somehow this perfect stranger was already making you feel comfortable. He took the compliment with another flash of that breathtaking smile of his then introduced himself as Jonathan Fatu. You in return introduced yourself as Y/N and you guys chatted for a spell before he admitted that he found you attractive also. Before you left the gym he asked if he could keep in contact with you and that's where things started.

You soon found out that on top of being violently fine, Jonathan was also funny, kind, humble and extremely attentive. Everything that you could've asked for in a man and definitely a major step up from the last person you were entertaining. Things were perfect in your eyes with Jonathan when your relationship was kept between you two. But then 4 months into dating he wanted you to come to one of his matches. He ended up getting a little too friendly with you in front of the cameras and that's when people started talking. Then the problems came. First, it started with some of Jonathan's overzealous fans taking a special interest in your relationship. They started feeling the need to tag you in everything and bombard you daily with unsolicited opinions. Most of his fans were kind enough, but the trolls were relentless. Some even blamed you for Jonathan not dating one of the female wrestlers they thought he belonged with. Then came the gossip blogs getting too invested in your personal life. All of this unwanted attention was solely based on the fact that you were now Jimmy Uso's girlfriend.

You tried your best to ignore everything. You didn't enjoy being in those crowded arenas but you could tell that Jonathan loved when you came to see him. So you did that for him. You powered through all of the invasive and sometimes hateful comments. You powered through Jonathan's hectic schedule. Out of a 7-day week, you were lucky if you would get 2 full days with him but you had fallen in love so you were willing to deal with it.

But a few weeks close to a month ago your facade started to crack. You found yourself snapping at Jonathan, holding grudges, and letting your frustrations fester instead of speaking up. But you were scared. Scared that your feelings wouldn't be validated, that maybe Jonathan would think you were just looking for a reason to complain.

Of course, like most humans, he had his spare share of flaws but above it all he was genuinely such a loving man. He treated you like you were his whole world.

Like now, for instance. He sensed that something was wrong with you and cleared his whole schedule, something that was nearly impossible to do, so y'all could have this time together. So why couldn't you just suck it up?

"You know what...... never mind Jon. It's not that important," you spoke to him, plastering a fake smile on your face deciding that sucking it up was exactly what you were gonna do. Here you had this beautiful view and this beautiful man. Why ruin it over something so trivial?

"I've just been a little stressed out lately but it's fine," you said and before Jonathan could respond you stood to your feet. You fixed your robe as you slowly walked over to the railing of the balcony. You let your eyes roam over the awe-inducing scenery as you worked on swallowing your feelings ..... again. But it wasn't long before you felt Jonathan's hands on your hips gently pulling you into his arms.

"Nah don't do that Y/N." He said, his breath warm against your ear. "If it's got you feeling a way towards me then it is important."

You two stood there silently for a beat then he grabbed your hand and led you over to the couch that was placed in the corner of the balcony. He sat down and then silently tapped his lap indicating that he wanted you to join him. Without protest, you straddled his lap, your body instinctively seeking comfort in his presence.

"Get it off your chest." Jonathan urged his dark eyes locking on yours as you placed your hands on his shoulders. You signed, your heart beginning to pound but you knew that you had to speak up if you two were ever going to reach a resolution.

"I love you, Jon. You know that," you said beginning to speak freely without worrying too much about the consequences. "But it's just that at times everything that comes with being with you ....... it all gets to be too much"

"The lights.... the cameras.... the attention. I just wanted you, Jonathan. I never wanted all of this. Before you, my life was so simple. I could say, go, and do whatever I wanted. But now I have all of these eyes on me. " you laid out to him as he focused on you intently. His eyes caught your every move as he silently allowed you to pour out your heart without any interruption.

"I know you can't change who you are Jon and I wouldn't want you to. I love that you get to live out your family's legacy. But this lifestyle..... your lifestyle .... I don't think it's for me." you finalized what you were feeling to him and now all you had to do was wait to see how he was going to react.

"So.... wait a minute..... what does that mean?" Jonathan asked as you watched confusion arise on his beautiful brown features. He adjusted you on his lap as he tightened his grip around your waist.

"You saying you don't want to be with me no more Y/N"

Visual hurt flashed in his eyes as he searched your face for understanding. This was another reason why you'd been afraid to bring it up. You didn't want him to jump to conclusions. But you understood his reaction. Jonathan couldn't change who he was, and what he represented meant the world to him. If you couldn't handle the spotlight that came with being committed to him, maybe the only option was to walk away. But despite that, you also knew that you were in too deep to go anywhere now.

"No, that's not what I'm saying, Jon. I'm just telling you what's been bothering me." you quickly reassured him as you moved your hand up to gently cup the side of his face. You felt his body relax again under your touch.

"I won't lie like the thought hasn't crossed my mind though." You admitted to him. "But I'm in love with you, Jonathan. And that's bigger than anything else I may be feeling."

You sighed then said, "I just get a little overwhelmed sometimes." You ran your fingers through his hair, one of your favorite things about him, before dropping your hand back down to rest on his shoulder.

"You need to tell me when you're feeling like that Y/N so we can figure it out together," Jonathan spoke, his tone soft and comforting. "And when I can I'll take you away from it for a little while."

"I'm use to my lifestyle 'cause I've been in it all of my life but I know everything can't be easy for you 100 percent of the time. But don't bottle that shit up. Just talk to me whenever you feeling like you can't handle it. Alright?" he told you, his eyes reflecting how much he meant every word. You nodded at him in response feeling 10 times better now that you two had finally confronted the issue. Of course, talking about it wouldn't make things cease to exist. Tomorrow Costa Rica would be over and the real world would be waiting. But at least you knew now that whenever things got too tough you could have a moment with Jonathan about it.

"Thank you for understanding Jon. I feel so much better now." you expressed to him. Feeling so overcome with gratitude you tilted your head down and placed a light peck on his lips that he surprisingly didn't return. He sat there in a dead silence that began to make you get all anxious about the situation again.

"I don't" he finally spoke. His face was stern and his dark eyes glared into yours. You searched his facial features for a hint of amusement but found none.

"I don't like you having crazy ass thoughts about not wanting to be with me." He spoke as he moved his hands from around your waist to slowly trail them up your robe all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours. As his big hands gripped your thighs with a possessive firmness, you instantly knew exactly where his mind had shifted. And you were 100 percent with it.

"You gotta make that shit up to me." He said with a smile as he took hold of the string that was holding your robe in place.

"I'll try" you responded playfully as he fully undid the string.

"You gone do more than that." He commented as he pulled the top half of your robe down your shoulders revealing your breast to the open air because all you had on underneath was a pair of panties. Gently grabbing you by the neck with one hand Jonathan pulled your mouth to his. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip before closing in on the kiss. As you two fell into a familiar rhythm you felt his other hand moving up your stomach until it reached one of your breasts. As he slowly started caressing the nipple with his thumb his mouth moved from yours down to your neck. After planting a few kisses along your collarbone he then moved his full attention down to your chest.

"Ummm" a soft moan left your lips as his warm tongue connected with your right nipple as he used his hand to play with and tease the other. You were so wrapped up in pleasure that it barely crossed your mind that you and Jonathan were basically outside right now. You had never engaged in sex in a place that wasn't closed off. Whether it was a bedroom, a bathroom, a car, whatever. Each place had always had a door to close you two off from the rest of the world. So being out on this balcony was a new experience for you. You thought that maybe you should tell Jonathan to move things inside but you didn't want to interrupt the current state he had you in. Besides the villa was private. The workers were on call so you and Jonathan were the only two in the house. There was nothing to stress about. So you allowed your mind and body to be completely immersed in the moment as you felt your wetness and desperate need for Jonathan grow.

"You been playing with me since we got here but I got you," Jonathan told you bringing your mind back to him as he tilted his head back to look at you. You knew that he was referring to the fact that you hadn't done anything sexual with him since the plane landed. In your previous relationship, sex was used to cover up most of the issues you and that person had. Nothing was ever discussed, talked out, or even really resolved. You didn't want to start that habit with Jonathan so you thought it would be better to abstain from doing anything with him on this little vacation until things were figured out. It wasn't easy because Jonathan tried every trick in the book but you stood your ground spamming the hell out of that I'm just not in the mood excuse. Which was definitely a bald-faced lie. You've wanted Jonathan in the worst way since you guys arrived. So bad that you even started dreaming about it. Lucky for you things were okay enough for you to now indulge. So indulge… you would.

"Take these off," Jonathan told you as he reached down and tugged at the brim of your panties. Obeying him you removed yourself from his lap and stood to your feet. You took your robe the rest of the way off letting it hit the balcony floor followed by your underwear. The sun and Jonathan's eyes were glued to your naked body as he took you in. 8 months later he still had that same hunger in his eyes each time you two found yourselves in this position. Looking into your eyes Jonathan then stood to his feet also. His 6'3 frame towered over you as he came out of his boxers and the grey sweatpants he had on. You both were now naked as the day you came into this world out on a balcony in Costa Rica but that was the last thing on your minds. The sexual tension was thick in the air as Jonathan sat back down on the couch while taking hold of your hand. He tried pulling you back down on his lap but you had something else in mind. You reached past him and grabbed one of the pillows off of the couch. You dropped the pillow down on the floor between his legs before dropping down to your knees on top of it. You watched Jonathan run his tongue across his lips at the sight as you took his dick into your hands.

"You look so fucking good." He complimented you as you slowly stroked his dick up and down with your manicured fingers while keeping your eyes on his. Deciding not to tease him any longer you shifted your focus down to what was in your hands. Picking up a little more speed with your stroking you took the tip of his dick into your mouth and started slowly running your tongue around it.

"Shit" you heard Jonathan grunt as you took as much of him as you could into your mouth coating him in your saliva. You suddenly felt him grab hold of the braids you got solely for coming to Costa Rica. He gathered them into a makeshift ponytail as you went to work on his dick. Jonathan moaned and cussed as you completely lost yourself in pleasing him. His moans were always the most intoxicating thing to you so it wasn't long before you felt yourself throbbing with urgent need. Not being able to resist you let go of his dick with one hand to reach down to please yourself while tending him. You gently rubbed your clit as you took some time to spit on Jonathan's dick before taking him into your mouth again. You shoved him so far into your mouth that his dick was damn near down your throat but at times like this, you didn't care if you suffocated. Jonathan used your hair to guide you up and down to his liking while your fingers slipped over your clit as your wetness became almost unbearable. You knew Jonathan's body well at this point so you knew when he was near his climax. You felt that feeling coming as he gripped your hair tighter and barely could sit still on the couch.

"Fuck Y/N" he grunted softly before shooting his seed into your mouth. You caught as much as you could and collected the rest before swallowing.

"Come here" Jonathan told you while helping you up. Neither one of you were anywhere close to being done with the session yet so within seconds you found yourself sliding down onto his dick. This was what your body was craving the most and yet the feeling was still overpowering as you came all the way down on his full length.

"S-shit" you let out as your body shuddered at the feeling of him having him inside of you. Jonathan's hand was back around your throat again as you begin to bounce up and down on his dick. How wet you were could be heard as Jonathan moved his hips up to meet you halfway every single time.

"Look at me Y/N" you heard his voice say not even realizing that your eyes were closed. You were so focused on trying not to cum too soon as his dick repeatedly connected with your g-spot. You listened to him and opened your eyes to the best of your ability and found his eyes fixated on your face like they always were anytime he had you in this position. He leaned in and pulled you into a kiss as he wrapped his other arm around your waist. Holding you tighter he picked up his pace and began to pound into your wetness from below.

"J-Jon" you moaned his name as you broke the kiss. You were in fear that you were going to bite down and draw blood from his lip something you couldn't do especially with his profession.

"Look at you," Jonathan said as he watched the faces you made as you took every inch of him.

"You not going nowhere .... you love this dick too much" he gloated. In response, your eyes retreated to the back of your head. Jonathan who always spoke such sweet words to you turned into a totally different person when he was fucking you. And you enjoyed every minute of it.

"Tell me you love this dick Y/N" he demanded from you as his grip on your neck got tighter and your need to cum grew stronger.

"I l-love it J-Jon" you muttered followed by many profanities as his pace quickened and you fought to keep up. You could feel your walls clenching around him indicating that you were losing the fight. Your climax was so close that you could feel it darting up your legs.

"I can't hear you. Speak the fuck up." Jonathan commanded.

"I love it" you whined out louder as your climax reached the pit of your stomach.

"FUCK ... I love it." came out louder as you bounced on Jonathan's dick with more determination than ever as your whole body became heated all over.

"Cum for me then." He told you as he released your neck and reached down to massage your clit to aid you in reaching your peak. It only took a minute of feeling Jonathan's fingers on your clit combined with his dick hitting your g spot before you found yourself making a mess on his lap. Your climax hit you full force as your body twitched and shook as Jonathan's dick became drenched in your cum. Not long afterwards he cursed and shot his load into you while repeatedly saying your name. You both were breathless and it took serval minutes to come back down to earth. Once you did you cleaned yourselves up and decided to spend the rest of your last day in Costa Rica out and about.

********************************************

Day 6 came quicker than you wanted but it was time to pack for your flight back to the United States in a few hours.

"Shit, I hope I didn't miss nothing too important," Jonathan said while you sat on the bed folding clothes and putting them back into your suitcase while he turned on his phone which had been off for the last 5 days. You both made a mutual agreement to ignore the rest of the world so your phones were shut off immediately after arriving. You tried to convince Jonathan that ditching his phone wasn't needed because you understood that he was a very busy person but he insisted on focusing on nothing but you on this trip.

Your phone remained shut off on the nightstand because you didn't feel as compelled to get back on it as him. Your mom and best friend could wait.

"Damn," you commented to Jonathan while lifting your brows at him because when he did power his phone back on it began to bing and buzz in his hand nonstop.

"Shit, I got like 30 missed calls from Tamina," he told you referring to his manager.

"Go handle it I'll finish packing for you." You told him. You knew that if she called that many times then it had to be something beyond urgent. Jonathan left the room as you continued to collect yours and his belongings. As you moved around the room you wondered what could be so urgent while at the same time hoping it wasn't that big of a deal. It took a little over 30 minutes for Jonathan to return to the room. When he came scrolling back in the look on his face told you that whatever Tamina was calling him about was indeed a big ass deal.

"Baby sit down." He told you.

"What is it Jon?" you asked him as you ignored his request for you to sit down.

"I don't know how to explain or tell you this so here," he said while holding out his phone to you. You were confused and your heartbeat quickened as you took hold of his phone. When you looked down the first thing you saw was what looked like an email with a few attachments.

"One of the workers must've tipped somebody off or something. I don't know how this shit happened. This villa was supposed to be private." Jonathan said to you as you read the email and became mortified. Suddenly you started to feel a little dizzy as you tried to process what you just read. Whoever sent the email was demanding 50 thousand dollars to be sent to them or they were going to sell some inappropriate images of you and Jonathan to the highest bidder. All you could think was who, what, and how? On top of being modified, you became sick to your stomach as you opened the attached files and saw pictures of you and Jonathan out on the balcony yesterday morning. The pictures were slightly blurry and looked like they were taken from a very far distance. But because of Jonathan's hair and his distinct tribal tattoos, it was easy to tell that it was either him or his twin brother Joshua. This was just yesterday morning so you wondered how in the hell could someone get ahold of something like this so quickly. But then you connected that if the person took those pictures yesterday morning then they had the whole rest of the day to send the information around. They did this without you and Jonathan knowing a thing because your phones were off.

Overcome with a feeling that you couldn't put into words your breathing became labored as you could visibly see the room start spinning before you.

"Baby, are you alright?" Jonathan's voice questioned you. It sounded like it came from a great distance, but he was standing right in front of you. The room began to spin faster as you stumbled back. Jonathan moving closer to you was the last thing you remembered before things went completely black.

Part 2

#jimmy uso #jimmy uso x black reader #jimmy uso smut #jimmy uso x oc #jimmy uso x you #jimmy uso x reader #the bloodline x reader #jimmy uso fanfiction #wwe imagine #black writers #black women writers #black reader

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fatecantstopme · 2 years ago

Text

The Connection

Pairing: Elliot Stabler x reader

Summary: Elliot Stabler is your best friend and has been for years. When he and Kathy get divorced, you let yourself wonder what it would be like to be with him...despite your current relationship status. Elliot's jealously will either bring you together or tear you apart.

Warnings: Divorce. Panic Attack. Gun shot wounds. Mentions of death. Hospital. Cursing. Use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M & F receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex (P in V)

It had been eight months since Elliot and Kathy had divorced. Eight months Elliot had spent alone, trying to figure out what the hell to do next. Eight months of trying to find the words to say and eight months of failing to.

The first couple months after Elliot's divorce, you thought about telling him how you felt--how you'd felt for years. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about it every single day since the moment he told you they were getting divorced.

Your fear of losing your best friend was what stopped you from ever admitting your feelings. You couldn't bear to face that possibility. You’d rather have him as just your friend than nothing at all.

But everything changed for you when you met a handsome stranger just outside your favorite coffee shop on your way to work. Tony, as you would later learn, was an emergency room doctor at Mercy Hospital. He had just recently moved to the city after finishing his residency at a hospital in Chicago.

Before long, you and Tony were inseparable. He was kind, charming, and funny--and he treated you better than any man ever had. You were content, happy even, despite the little voice in the back of your mind. The voice that reminded you of how much you loved Elliot--how much you needed him.

That voice was always strongest when you were together, which meant you started to pull away from him--spending more time with Tony and less with Elliot. Even though the two of you worked together and saw each other nearly every day, you tended to stay in your office and avoid too much actual contact with him if you could.

You felt badly about the distance you'd created, but you didn't know what else to do. If Elliot felt the same way, he'd never even hinted at it, let alone expressed it, so you felt the point was moot. Why put yourself through the pain of rejection if you didn't have to? Plus, you had Tony now. Focusing on your relationship with him had to be your priority.

Elliot was no fool. He watched you pull away from him after you met Tony—and he thought he knew why. He couldn’t stand to hear you talk about him—didn’t want to imagine you with someone else. Someone other than him. He had no right to feel that way and he knew it, but there are just some things you can’t control.

You’d been with Tony for 6 months when Elliot finally reached his breaking point. The two of you, along with Olivia, Munch, and Fin, were in the squad room after a particularly stressful case. You were chatting with Olivia about her latest beau and she inquired about Tony. You told her you had been canceling dinner plans with him for the last week due to your case load, but you were planning on seeing him tonight.

“He’s perfect for you, (Y/N),” Olivia said with a smile. “You always light up when you talk about him.”

You offered her a small smile in return. “He really is amazing.” You leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. “I think he’s been shopping for rings.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “How long’s it been?”

“6 months,” you answered.

“Damn. That’s fast.” She shrugged, “but if you know, then you know.”

You opened your mouth to tell her that you didn’t know, but Elliot beat you to it. “Jesus, (Y/L/N), I didn’t expect you to just marry the first guy who jumped in your bed. When did you turn into such a needy slut?”

Your face paled and you stepped back as if he’d slapped you. He knew you well enough to know exactly what to say to hurt you and he didn’t pull his punches.

“What the hell, Elliot?” Olivia snapped.

Elliot avoided making eye contact with you—immediately regretting his outburst. He wasn’t one to apologize, and to be honest, he wasn’t very good at it, but he felt the strong urge to beg for your forgiveness.

“I shouldn’t've—“ he started.

“Leave it,” you cut in. “Whatever it is you were about to say, just don’t.” You grabbed your coat and your bag before turning back in his direction. “I’m going to dinner with a man who treats me with respect and genuinely cares about me. I would think you of all people would be happy for me.” You paused. “I know you're tired and stressed, but you don't have the right to take it out on me. I'm your friend, Elliot, although given what you just said to me, I'm not even sure about that."

With that, you walked out the door, never slowing or sparing a glance behind you.

Elliot felt terrible in more ways than one as he watched you leave. He could feel the gazes of his friends, but he couldn’t bear to look at them. “I’m going home,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, maybe you should get some sleep before you insult anyone else,” Fin said none too gently.

In any other situation, Elliot would have clapped back, but the fact that he'd just hurt you like that made him keep his mouth shut. He threw on his coat and stormed out of the precinct before anyone else could speak.

The entire way home, Elliot was fuming. He was mad at himself, mad at Tony, but most of all he was mad at you. Mad that you found someone who fit you so perfectly. Mad that you wanted someone else. Mad that you were happy. God help him--he felt terrible for it--hated himself, even. What kind of person felt this way about their best friend? Wasn't he supposed to be your number one supporter? Your biggest champion?

He was filled with regret as he entered his small apartment. It was mostly empty and completely devoid of personality. He had pictures of his kids, but not much else.

There was, however, one particularly special picture in the living room. He walked over to it and picked up the frame, his heart clenching as he stared at it. It was a picture of you and him on a random Saturday. He'd dragged you to the park for an early morning run, which he knew you hated. You'd gotten your revenge by pushing him into a pond beside the running path.

After you'd stopped laughing, you tried to help him out of the water, but he pulled you in with him, leaving you both soaking wet and laughing hysterically. When you made it back to dry land, you'd dragged him close and snapped a picture of the two of you--muddy, wet, and laughing.

The picture really showcased your personality--light, bubbly, happy, and just a bit goofy. It was his favorite picture and one of his favorite moments with you...it was the moment he realized he loved you. A feeling he'd never expressed, even though he'd felt it long before he and Kathy solidified their divorce.

It was almost two years later and he still hadn't told you how he felt. And now that he was a free man--and had been for a while--you'd found the man of your dreams. He'd managed to blow his chance to be with you and now it was too late.

The picture suddenly became blurry and he sat it back down on the table before wiping his eyes. He wasn't good with emotions and he was thankful no one was there to witness this particular display.

He tried to push all thoughts of you from his mind as he wandered around his kitchen, scrounging up something to eat. He tried not to picture you at dinner with Tony. He tried not to imagine what you would do after dinner. He tried not to think about anything at all...but no matter what he did, you plagued his mind from the moment you'd walked out the door. He decided to go out to a bar and get himself a drink or two. It was Friday after all and he'd had a long week. Why not blow off some steam?

You weren't in the best of moods when you met Tony for dinner that night. Elliot's words echoed in your ears and the feeling of hurt had yet to dissipate. He'd never lashed out at you like that before. Not once. You'd heard him do it to other people, especially when he was angry or frustrated--but he'd never done it to you. You weren't sure what it meant now that he had, but you were certain it wasn't good.

Tony picked up on your mood immediately and he was obviously concerned. He'd asked if you were alright, if you wanted to reschedule...but you'd told him it had just been a long week and not to worry.

"You seem distracted, (Y/N)," Tony commented gently. "Are you sure you're okay?"

You looked up from the food you'd been playing with on your plate and sighed. "Sorry, Tony. I've got a lot on my mind."

He nodded. You could tell he wanted to probe deeper, but he wisely opted to back off. He started to chatter about some new resident at the hospital, complaining about how green the kid was, and your mind began to drift.

You knew you should have been paying attention, but you really couldn't find the energy to--or perhaps desire was the better word. All you could think about was Elliot. When had everything gone so wrong? How did it all become so fucked up? Why did you care so much? He clearly didn't.

A single tear slid down your cheek and dropped onto your plate, surprising you out of your thoughts. You hadn't realized you'd been crying until that moment. You quickly wiped your eyes, hoping Tony wouldn't notice. When you glanced up at him, you knew he'd seen and you could tell he wanted to know what the hell was going on.

The problem was, you weren't even sure what was happening. Why did you feel so damn sad? As you stared at Tony, you realized there was only one person you wanted to talk to about it...and it wasn't the man in front of you. You were hurting and you only wanted the man who'd hurt you. How fucked up was that?

"Seriously, babe, what's going on?" Tony asked gently, concern lacing his voice.

You shook your head. "I don't really wanna talk about it."

"Okay...I wouldn't normally push, but you were literally just crying into your pasta."

"I'm aware, Anthony," you said rather harshly.

He winced slightly and you sighed sadly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap," you said softly.

"It's okay."

There was something about the placating tone of his voice that just set you off. "No it's not! None of this is okay! I'm not okay!"

He was clearly taken aback by the intensity of your outburst and you found yourself feeling incredibly embarrassed...and perhaps a bit annoyed.

"I just--I just wanna go home," you mumbled.

"Okay," he said gently. "Why don't you go wait in the car. I'll pay the bill."

He handed you the keys and you practically ran out of the restaurant. You couldn't explain what you were feeling--it was like you were suffocating, like the very air you were breathing was toxic. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and everything just felt wrong. Your vision started to darken and you felt like you were being crushed...you fell to your knees on the sidewalk, body shaking as you started to hyperventilate.

Moments later, Tony came rushing out and dropped to his knees beside you. You could hear him asking you what was wrong, but you couldn't answer him. You hadn't recognized the signs at first, but somewhere inside you, you knew you were having a panic attack. You couldn't explain why and you certainly couldn't tell him what was happening.

You heard Tony say something about an ambulance, but your brain was too foggy to comprehend what was happening. You'd had panic attacks all your life, but this one felt different--it came on even more suddenly and it was more intense than any attack you'd ever had before. Something about it felt final...deadly.

You heard the sounds of sirens in the distance, and at first you thought they were headed for you, but they never seemed to move any closer. Your vision was almost black, your head was pounding, and you felt as if your body was full of lead--you knew you were moments away from passing out. The last thing you heard was the ringing of a cellphone in close proximity to you. Just as you realized the phone was yours, you succumbed to the blackness of unconsciousness.

A couple blocks away, an ambulance and several police officers were responding to a call for shots fired at a local bar. According to the call, one man was dead, one was critically injured, and four more were wounded.

Witnesses said a man had opened fire inside the bar after an argument had escalated. After the first few shots rang out, another man had gotten up from his seat, pulled out his gun, and identified himself as police. The first gunman pulled the trigger twice, shooting the police officer twice in the chest. As he was falling to the ground, he pulled his own trigger, killing the gunman almost instantly with a shot directly to the heart.

The officer laid on the ground, blood seeping from his wounds, terror gripping his body. His only thought was of his family, and how he would never get to see them again.

He could hear voices all around him, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, and he was beginning to feel cold. He knew what that meant, even if he didn't want to admit it.

He heard the scream of sirens followed by the sound of footsteps near him. He heard a man's voice ask a question, but he didn't hear the response.

He heard snippets of what was said, "Gun," "argument," "scared,"...but the one that caught his attention was "Benson." He didn't understand why someone had said his partner's name and he tried to ask, but his voice came out as nothing but incoherent sounds.

The sound of more sirens neared and he began to drift towards sleep or death...he wasn't sure which one. His eyes had closed and his body felt heavy as he took what he feared would be his last few breaths.

"Detective Benson," Olivia answered on the second ring.

"Hi, Detective. This is Officer Bailey."

"Hey, Bailey. You got a case for me?"

"Not exactly, ma'am..." he paused. "It's your partner. Detective Stabler?"

Olivia felt her blood go cold. "What about him?"

"He was involved in an incident at O'Malley's Bar on 5th," Bailey said slowly. "Bar fight turned deadly. Apparently, Detective Stabler shot the gunman."

She inhaled sharply. "Is he alright?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line that told Olivia everything she needed to know. "How bad is it?" she asked softly.

"It's bad, detective. They're taking him to Mercy Hospital. You should probably go there."

Olivia's first thought was of Elliot's kids--she needed to call them when she had more information. She didn't want to scare them if she didn't need to. "Thanks for the call. I'm heading over there now."

She hung up, grabbed her keys and her coat, then ran out the door. She intended to drive with lights and sirens to get there--policy be damned.

When she got to the first floor of her apartment building, it suddenly hit her that she should call you. Even after his comments earlier that day, Elliot was still your best friend. You'd want to know if something happened to him and you'd be beyond pissed if Olivia didn't tell you right away.

She called your phone several times as she drove to the hospital, each time leaving a voicemail begging you to call her back.

She was thankful she lived so close to the hospital and she made it there in record time. She pulled up to the emergency room entrance just as an ambulance pulled up to the front doors.

Olivia quickly got out of her car and jogged towards the entrance, but she stepped aside as EMS rushed someone through the doors. Olivia's face paled as she got a good look at the person on the gurney--you.

She ran in after them, practically running right into Tony as he came in. Olivia recognized him immediately. "What the hell happened?" she asked in a rush.

Tony looked over at her in surprise, as if he was just realizing she was there. A look of recognition crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced with confusion. "She, uh--I don't know. She collapsed outside the restaurant." He eyed her carefully. "What are you doing here?"

"Elliot was involved in some sort of altercation at a bar. They brought him here, so I came down to figure out what the hell happened."

Tony looked shocked. "When?"

"About 15 minutes ago."

Tony's face paled. "That's right about when (Y/N) collapsed..."

Olivia's eyes widened. "What are the odds of that?"

He shook his head. "I'm gonna say extremely unlikely."

She sighed and shook her head too. "I need to check in with the front desk and see what they know."

The ladies at the front desk informed Olivia that Elliot had received two GSWs to the chest and was currently in surgery. They promised to keep her updated and let her know if anything changed. She also asked them to keep her updated on your status as well. It didn't seem likely that the two incidents were connected, but she had to admit it was really damn weird.

Olivia joined Tony in the waiting room and made several phone calls to Elliot's kids and the rest of her team. She wanted to make sure they all knew what was going on. The kids were out of town with Kathy, but Fin, Munch, and Cragen all promised to come down to the hospital immediately.

When they arrived, the five of them sat in the waiting room in silence. None of them knew what to say.

About an hour after the others had arrived, a nurse came into the waiting room. "(Y/L/N)?" she called.

Tony looked up at the sound of your name. He jumped out of his seat and walked towards the nurse. "Is she okay?" he asked urgently.

The nurse nodded. "She's awake and asking for someone named Elliot."

Olivia made eye contact with Fin, who was sitting across from her. He shared her knowing glance before they both looked in Tony's direction.

"Oh, um...I'm her boyfriend. Would I be able to see her?"

The nurse nodded again. "Sure, Dr. Cooper. She's in 103."

Tony immediately headed towards your room without waiting for the nurse to follow. Olivia got up and walked over to the nurse before she could walk away. "Excuse me," she called.

The nurse turned back to her. "Yes?"

"You said (Y/N) was asking for Elliot?"

She nodded. "You know him?"

Olivia nodded her affirmation. "He's my partner. He was brought in about 2 hours ago for GSWs to the chest. I believe he's in surgery right now."

The nurse paled. "Dr. (Y/L/N) didn't have any noticeable injuries. Was she there when he was shot?"

Olivia shook her head. "She was a couple blocks away. We're not sure what happened to her."

"The doctor said it was probably an intense panic attack, based on the symptoms Dr. (Y/L/N) described."

Olivia was a little surprised, but she didn't say it. "Thank you."

The nurse nodded and headed back into the patient area. Olivia returned to her coworkers and shared the information she'd just received.

"A panic attack?" Fin asked in surprise.

Olivia nodded. "That's what the nurse said."

"At the same time Elliot got shot?" Munch asked.

"Roughly, yeah." Olivia confirmed.

"What the hell are the odds of that?" Cragen asked.

"I'd say a million to one," Munch answered.

"At least she's gonna be okay," Fin said softly.

They all nodded their agreement. No one wanted to mention their fears about Elliot's survival...they just had to hope he would pull through.

You'd been surprised to find yourself in the hospital when you awoke, but you quickly realized the intensity of your panic attack must have literally knocked you out. Tony wouldn't have known what was happening, so of course he called 911.

You checked your phone as soon as you woke up and discovered you had several missed calls and messages from Olivia. You listened to the most recent one and felt the blood drain from your face.

"(Y/N), please answer your phone! I'm getting worried. Elliot's been in some sort of altercation and it's bad. I don't know what's going on, but I'm on my way to the hospital. Please call me." Olivia's voice sounded panicked, so you knew it must be really bad.

You pressed your call button and the moment a nurse walked into the room you asked for Elliot. The nurse told you she didn't know who that was, but she said she'd go out to the waiting room to see.

Much to your dismay, the person who walked into your room 5 minutes later, was Tony. You felt terrible for feeling that way, but not seeing Elliot standing in your doorway confirmed your worst fears.

"Elliot?" you whispered, the meaning of your question very clear.

Tony sighed as he came to the side of your bed. "He's in surgery," he said gently.

Your skin was already pale, but you turned white as a sheet upon hearing those words. "What happened?"

"He was shot twice in the chest. Some guy shot several people during a bar fight and Elliot stopped him."

"How bad is it?" You didn't really wanna ask, but Tony was an ER doctor after all...he would know and he wouldn't lie to you.

His expression was sad. "It's bad, (Y/N/N)," he said honestly. "It's really bad."

You couldn't stop the tears from sliding down your cheeks. You didn't want to ask more questions--didn't really wanna know--but you needed to. "What are the odds?"

Tony shook his head, not wanting to upset you further.

"Anthony, please," you begged.

He sighed. "He might not make it through surgery, but even if he does, the chances of survival are slim. He lost a lot of blood and there was internal damage from the bullets."

You closed your eyes and took a shuddering breath. "Where's Olivia?" you whispered.

"She's out in the waiting room. Want me to get her?"

"Please," you said so softly he barely heard you.

A few minutes later, Tony reappeared in the doorway with a distraught Olivia. She pushed past him and into your room, quickly crossing the short distance to your bedside. Tony backed out of the room and out of sight.

"How are you feeling?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," you answered. "I don't understand how this could happen."

Olivia knew what you meant, but she didn't have a good answer for you. Elliot didn't frequent bars alone, nor was he the type to get into any kind of bar fight. But honestly, what really bothered her was the timing of your panic attack. "Why did you have a panic attack?"

You looked at her in surprise. "I--I don't really know. It just came on suddenly."

"Right when Elliot was in trouble? That just seems...odd."

"I can't explain it. I was outside waiting for Tony to pay the bill and it hit me. I was on my knees, unable to breathe, in mere seconds."

"You know I'm not a superstitious person and I don't really believe in any of that mystical stuff, but if I did...I'd say you felt something happen to him and that's why you had the attack."

You wouldn't classify yourself as some kind of mystic either, but you were a psychologist. You'd spent years studying the human mind, and nothing about it made complete sense. The brain is the most complex part of human anatomy...so complex, in fact, that we may never fully understand it.

"I suppose it's possible," you began slowly. "We know there are examples of minds being connected in inexplicable ways, the best example being that of twins. Twins claim to be able to sense each other and understand each other in ways the rest of us could never really understand. Twins a 1,000 miles away from each other claim to know the exact moment their twin died. Some people claim to have similar bonds with siblings and significant others. So while it seems unlikely, it is entirely plausible that such a connection could be formed between two people."

"If anyone was to have a connection like that, it would be you and Elliot."

"What makes you say that?"

Olivia gave you a knowing look, one you'd seen on her face countless times before...just never directed at you. "I might not be a profiler, (Y/N), but I'm not an idiot. It doesn't take a good detective to know that the bond between you and Elliot is different--special."

"He's my best friend," you conceded, although you knew that was not what she meant.

"This goes way beyond friendship," she said simply.

She didn't elaborate and you didn't need her to. Some part of you knew she was right, or at least suspected it. But if her idea of this connection was accurate--and your interpretation of the meaning was accurate--then didn't that imply your feelings were not one-sided?

You weren't sure if you were ready to admit it, but this revelation changed everything for you. In that moment, you decided if Elliot survived this, you would tell him how you feel...consequences be damned.

**********

Two weeks went by without much change or improvement in Elliot's status. He'd made it through surgery, but he'd been in a coma ever since. The doctors weren't quite sure why...there didn't appear to be a medical cause.

You visited Elliot every single day, sometimes spending hours at his bedside talking to him. If there was even the slightest chance he could hear you, it was worth it.

That first night in the hospital had changed a lot of things for you, and it made you realize you couldn't keep pretending anymore. You broke things off with Tony, unable to lead him on any longer. He was surprisingly understanding about it, despite the obvious hurt.

The rest of the squad would stop by periodically to check in on Elliot and to see how you were holding up. You'd come back to work right away, but you'd made yourself as scarce as possible. You weren't ready to face the possibility that Elliot may never wake up, even if your coworkers were.

It was week three of Elliot's coma when you were called to testify in court for an SVU case. It wasn't a case you wanted to relive, but you'd played a vital roll in identifying the offender and your testimony was crucial.

You'd testified for a day and a half before you were finally released from court. Having done your duty, you pulled out your phone to check your messages. You were surprised to see several missed calls--all from Olivia.

Your heart clenched in your chest and terror froze your body in place. You weren't sure you wanted to listen to the message she'd left...you wanted to live in this moment just a while longer. In this moment, in this world, Elliot was still alive, but if you listened to that voicemail, that world might shatter.

You forced your body to move, making your way to a more secluded part of the courthouse before taking a deep breath and pressing 'play' on the voicemail.

"I know you're in court, but I wanted to make sure you heard this as soon as you finished up. We're all at the hospital--Elliot's awake!"

You didn't listen to the rest of the message--nothing else mattered. All you heard was "Elliot's awake!" and you were already running towards the exit. You ran at top speed all the way out of the building and to your car, pushing past anyone who got in the way.

When you reached your car, you jumped in the driver's seat and took off, ignoring almost every single traffic law in existence. All that mattered was getting to the hospital--all that mattered was Elliot.

After parking your car, you raced into the hospital and into the elevator, angrily pressing the button for the 3rd floor repeatedly. When the doors finally opened to the ICU, you sprinted from the elevator and down the hall towards Elliot's room.

You were breathless when you reached the doorway of his room, but you didn't care. Olivia, Munch, Fin, and Cragen all stood around the bed and they turned towards the door when they heard you.

You barely noticed any of them. Your focus was entirely on the man sitting up in bed, his bright blue eyes locked on yours. "Elliot," you breathed softly.

Every single person in that room felt the air shift when you entered. It didn't take a trained investigator to recognize the tension in the air. You didn't move from the doorway and your gaze didn't leave Elliot's face.

"Why don't we give you guys a moment alone?" Cragen suggested as he started to back out towards the door.

The other three followed their captain, Olivia shutting the door as she exited the room.

"Hey," Elliot murmured once the two of you were alone.

"Hi," you said softly, voice catching slightly as your emotions washed over you.

"Come here," he coaxed.

You crossed the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed.

The two of you stared at each other in silence, emotions threatening to overwhelm both of you. It felt like everything inside you bubbled up all at once and you gasped, "I'm sorry."

Elliot spoke his apology at the exact same time. "I'm sorry."

You both let out a breathy laugh, some of the tension easing from your bodies.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Elliot asked.

"I shouldn't have ever questioned our friendship. It was cruel."

He shook his head. "If anyone was cruel, it was me. Frankly, I deserved way worse than what you said. I didn't mean a word of it, (Y/N), not a single word."

"I know--" you began.

"Let me finish," he cut in insistently. You fell silent, allowing him to continue. "I shouldn't have called you a slut. I shouldn't have judged your relationship--it wasn't my place. I was upset and I took it out on you...it wasn't fair and I'm sorry. You deserve better."

"I appreciate that," you said quietly. "But why did you say it? You're never cruel to me...ever."

The pain in your voice nearly broke his heart in two. "I was mad at you," he mumbled. "It's stupid and it doesn't matter 'cause you're with Tony anyway and you're happy and I should be happy toorightbecauseyou'remybestfriend--"

You grabbed his arm to bring his attention back to you and cut off his ramble. "You can breathe now," you teased you lightly.

He chuckled. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I think it's cute when you ramble like that."

He rolled his eyes. "Great. I'm cute."

You grinned. "Very cute," you said in a teasing tone. As you looked at him, your smile slipped and a sad expression slid into place. "I thought I was going to lose you," you whispered.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'm harder to get rid of than that."

Tears filled your eyes, despite your attempt to smile. "What happened, Elliot?"

"They didn't tell you?"

"I know the official story, but I wanna hear it from you."

"I needed to blow off some steam, so I went to the bar for a couple drinks. Some guy got into an argument, pulled out a gun, and started shooting...so I shot back."

Your eyes fluttered closed. "You could have been killed."

"But I wasn't."

"But you could have been!" you said loudly. "Why the hell did you go to that bar alone? Why didn't you just stay home? You could have called someone to go with you! You could of--"

"(Y/N)," Elliot cut in gently. "I'm okay."

You realized you'd been rambling and you inhaled deeply to catch your breath. "I was so scared," you whispered. "When I woke up and Olivia told me what had happened...it felt like my world was falling apart. All I wanted was to see you, but you were still in surgery. Even when you finally made it to recovery, they wouldn't let me see you because they wanted to keep me for observation overnight."

"Wait, what? Who wanted to keep you for observation?" he asked, confused.

"The hospital," you answered. "I got here about 5 minutes after you."

"What?" His eyes scanned over your body, checking for wounds or signs of injuries. "Why? What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you assured him gently. "It was just a panic attack."

He looked even more confused. "A panic attack?"

"It was intense," you admitted. "I passed out and Tony called 911. I didn't know what happened to you until I woke up in the hospital and listened to my voicemails from Olivia."

"I thought you usually knew when a panic attack was coming on."

"This one was weird. It hit me suddenly and literally brought me to my knees." You paused. "Anyway, I'm fine. How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Elliot admitted. "My chest feels like an elephant is sitting on it."

"Do you need pain meds? I can get the nurse--" you turned to call for the nurse, but he grabbed your arm to stop you.

"No, please--don't go."

You turned back to him. "I'm not going anywhere, but if you're in pain, the nurse can help."

He shook his head. "The meds make me sleep. I don't wanna sleep."

"Alright, but if the pain becomes unbearable, please tell me."

"I will," he promised. "I just want to talk to you for a while longer."

You smiled. "I can't say no to that."

For the next several minutes, you helped Elliot get caught up on everything that had happened in the last three weeks, leaving out a few key things about changes in your life until the end.

"I, uhh--I broke up with Tony," you mumbled quickly.

Elliot's eyes widened and you swore his face lit up before he tried to hide it. "Oh? I'm sorry, (Y/N/N). I know you really liked him."

You shrugged. "He's a good man and he'll make a great husband for someone, just not me."

"So...why'd you break up with him?"

"He deserved to be with someone who loved him the way he loved me and I knew I'd never be able to."

"Why not?" Fuck subtlety, he thought to himself.

You laughed breathily. "Good lord you're full of questions."

"That's not an answer."

You shot him a look of annoyance, but he knew you weren't actually upset. You were clearly trying to decide how to answer his question...and how much information you really wanted to give him.

"You can't love more than one person at the same time. At least not fully."

He raised his eyebrows. "Who do you love?"

"Elliot," you groaned softly. "Why does it matter?"

"I want to know." I need to know.

You sighed heavily. "How long have we known each other?"

He was clearly confused by your question, but he answered it anyway. "Eight years?"

You nodded. "And you were married for most of it, right?"

"As far as I'm aware, yes," he said in boorish tone.

"Six years, Elliot. Six whole years of my life," you said softly.

"What do you mean?"

You bit your lip and stared at the blanket covering his chest, unable to look at his face as you answered his question. "That's how long I've loved you," you whispered.

He'd waited two very long years to hear you say those words, but he'd never actually imagined you would ever say them. He was so stunned by your admission that he found himself rendered mute.

The seconds ticked by and you started to feel incredibly foolish and embarrassed. "Please say something," you begged.

He realized he'd been silent for too long and he rushed to say the words that had lived in his heart for so long. "I don't really know when I fell in love with you, (Y/N), but I'll never forget the moment I realized I loved you, and I don't think I'll ever be able to stop loving you."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor as your eyes shot up to meet his. You'd never dreamed he'd feel the same...at least not until three weeks ago. Perhaps Olivia was right after all--perhaps you really were connected in a deeper way. "El..."

"You don't have to say anything," he whispered.

"I love you," you said simply.

His chest ached from more than just the gun shot wounds. "I love you too."

You let out an awkward chuckle. "So what do we do now?"

"Right now?" he asked. "Well right now, you're going to kiss me because I can't really move."

You laughed warmly before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to his warm lips. The moment your lips connected, it just felt right. Everything about him felt right.

"As much as I'd love to kiss you until one or both of us passes out from lack of oxygen, I think I might need those painkillers instead," he said softly, finally letting the pain creep into his voice.

You nearly smacked him. "How long have you been in this much pain?"

"Doesn't matter. This was more than worth it."

You glared at him, but the glare quickly softened to an affectionate expression of concern. "I'll get the nurse."

You returned moments later with the nurse in tow. She gave Elliot a shot of morphine to dull his pain. It didn't take long for him to drift back off to sleep.

You settled into a chair beside his bed, content to stay beside him for as long as the hospital staff would let you.

**********

Four days later, Elliot was finally released from the hospital. You insisted he come to your place because there was absolutely no way you were going to let him be alone yet. Much to your surprise, he didn't argue, if anything he seemed glad for your insistence.

"At least I don't have to give you a tour," you said with a smile as you held the door open for Elliot.

"I've only been here 100 times," he teased.

You closed the door behind him and watched as he moved slowly towards the couch. You knew he was still in pain, though he likely wouldn't admit it.

"Do you need anything?" you asked tentatively as he sunk down onto the couch with a muffled groan.

"Nah, I'm fine."

You knew better than to argue with him. "How 'bout we order Chinese for an early dinner? I don't really feel like cooking."

"God, yes. That sounds amazing."

"Hospital food that bad?" you teased.

"Worse."

You laughed and went to the kitchen to grab the number for your favorite take out place. You ordered enough food to feed a small army before settling onto the couch beside Elliot.

"Okay, so here's the options: we can watch TV, we can sit in silence and awkwardly stare at the wall, or we can talk."

"I vote for the awkward staring."

You laughed. "TV it is."

You turned the TV on, but nothing seemed particularly interesting. Eventually you settled on some mindless drama.

You pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it across your lap. "Do you need one?"

"I'm good."

A few quiet moments went by before Elliot cleared his throat. You looked over at him, but he didn't say anything. You turned back to face the TV, but he started shifting beside you, as if he was restless.

"El?"

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

He shook his head. "Not really. It's just--well it's just that you're kinda far away."

You raised an eyebrow as you regarded him. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"Well, I wanna hold you and I don't really give a damn if it hurts me."

You offered him a small smile. "I'll be gentle."

You moved closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close, wincing slightly as he shifted. Once you'd both gotten comfortable, your focus went back to the TV.

About 20 minutes later, the buzzer for the door went off and you jumped up to answer it. You let the delivery guy in the main doors and waited for him to reach your apartment.

"Do you always let the delivery guy in?" Elliot asked.

"Yeah."

"It's not safe, (Y/N)."

A knock at your door alerted you to the presence of your dinner. You opened the door, took the food, and paid before shutting the door behind him.

"I've never had any issues," you commented.

"We know plenty of people who have," Elliot said softly.

You glanced over at him and sighed. "El, I've been living alone for most of my adult life. I'm painfully aware of the dangers of being a single female in this city, and I'm always careful."

He nodded, but he didn't look like he really wanted to let it drop.

You walked back into the living room and started laying out the takeout boxes on the coffee table. "Dinner is served."

He inhaled deeply. "Damn that smells good."

"Thank you. I slaved away in the kitchen for hours to make it for you."

He laughed warmly. You saw the look of pain cross his face, the laughter clearly aggravating his wounds.

"At least take a couple Tylenol," you begged.

He sighed. "Will it make you feel better?"

"Yes."

"Fine. I'll take a couple."

The two of you had managed to eat a large portion of the food you'd ordered and you'd gotten Elliot to take some pain medication. All in all, you felt very successful.

The two of you were curled up on the couch watching a movie. Your head was in Elliot's lap, a blanket covering your body, and his arm draped across your torso.

At some point, his hand began to play with your hair and gently trace meaningless designs against your skin. The motion relaxed you and you sighed contentedly. Your eyes drifted closed and you knew you should get up go to bed, but you were simply too warm and comfortable to get up.

Next thing you knew, Elliot was gently shaking you awake. "Sweetheart? It's late. You should go to bed."

You let out a little groan. "But I'm so warm."

He chuckled. "You'll be nice and warm in your bed too. Come on," he coaxed.

You grumbled softly as you sat up. You dragged your weary body off the couch and started to walk back towards your bedroom. When you realized Elliot wasn't following you, you turned around. "Coming?"

"Oh, I--uh...I can sleep on the couch, ummm--if you want."

"We're adults, Elliot. We can share a bed."

"Thank god," he said as he slowly made his way towards you. "Your couch isn't comfortable to sleep on."

"Hey! You've never complained before."

"That's because sleeping in your bed was never an option before."

"I suppose you have a point."

He followed you into your room and chuckled softly as you crawled directly into bed, not even bothering to change into your pajamas. He walked to the other side of the bed and stood there for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do.

"You okay?" you asked.

"I, uhh, I normally wear a lot less clothing when I sleep."

"Oh," you mumbled with a blush. "Umm, you can get comfortable. I don't mind."

"I'll keep some stuff on for modesty," he teased lightly. "I just gotta lose the sweatpants or I'm gonna sweat to death in the middle of the night."

You laughed. "We wouldn't want that."

He quickly shed his pants before crawling into the bed beside you. "Shit," he said with a sigh. "You've been holding out on me."

"Huh?"

"This bed is 1,000 times more comfortable than the couch."

You laughed and very lightly smacked his arm. "You're the worst. You're lucky I let you share in this great comfort."

He grinned. "I feel very lucky. I'd even go so far as to say I feel honored."

You blushed. "Oh hush. Go to sleep, you dork. I'll see you in the morning."

You turned off the bedside lamp and settled back into the bed.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Elliot."

**********

For the next couple weeks, Elliot was on desk duty at work, which meant he had much more time to spend with you. On slow days, he would come sit in your office and chat with you for hours until someone (usually Cragen or Olivia) came looking for him.

Even though he was more than capable of living alone again, Elliot was still crashing at your house. You'd insisted at first, but it had become a comfortable routine that neither of you were quite ready to break.

The rest of the squad started to notice the change in your relationship too. Elliot was much more affectionate towards you, both physically and verbally. He'd use terms of endearment as often as possible and he was always within arms' reach of you.

The shift in dynamics really became obvious when you and Elliot continued to arrive together to work in the morning after the doctors had cleared him for duty.

"Okay, I'm tired of dancing around this shit," Fin spoke up when you and Elliot walked in the door together.

"Dancing around what?" Olivia asked.

"That," he responded, pointing at you two.

"What about us?" Elliot asked.

"Are you still living with (Y/N)?"

"Yeah," he answered with a shrug.

"So are you dating?" Fin probed.

Elliot shrugged off his jacket and plopped down in his desk chair. "Yeah."

Three surprised voices started peppering you with questions. "Since when?" "Why didn't you tell us?" "How long has this been going on?"

"Guys!" you yelled as you threw up your hands. You were surprised that Elliot had admitted to the relationship so freely. You hadn't discussed keeping it a secret or anything like that, but you also hadn't discussed if and when you were going to tell everyone. "Can you at least wait until I put my bag down before you verbally assault me?"

The questions and comments continued, but were now aimed at Elliot as you made a beeline to your office to drop off your bag and coat.

Before you could make it back to the squad room, there was a gentle knock on the doorframe. "Got a second?"

You turned around at the sound of Cragen's voice. "Sure," you answered as you leaned back against your desk. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I may have overheard the commotion in the squad room when you and Elliot got in."

"Oh."

"Were you planning on telling me?"

"Honestly, sir, we hadn't discussed it. We didn't even really discuss our relationship...it just sort of happened."

"Near-death experiences will do that to you."

You nodded. "It was rather eye-opening for both of us, I think."

"Not as much for the rest of us."

"What do you mean?"

Cragen smiled. "It doesn't take a good detective to see how much the two of you care about each other, even long before Elliot got shot."

You blushed. "I tried not to be obvious."

"I make it a point to know my people, (Y/N), and I pay attention."

"I hope our relationship isn't going to be an issue, sir."

He shook his head. "I'm not worried about the two of you one bit. You've always been professional and I don't think admitting you love each other out loud will change that."

"I appreciate that, sir. I know Elliot will too."

Cragen just offered you a simple smile before making his way back towards the squad room. You followed slowly behind him, allowing yourself time to steel yourself for the onslaught of questions.

Much to your surprise, the conversation had shifted to other topics, namely Munch's permanent bachelor status and Olivia's terrible choices in men.

You leaned against Elliot's desk and he looked up to smile at you.

"I see they've moved on."

"I put them in their place," he said with a smirk.

"Do I wanna know what that means?"

"Probably not."

You laughed. "You're probably right."

Elliot's next thought was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He answered it, listened for a few moments, then said "We'll be there in 15," before hanging up. "Liv, we've got a vic over at Bellevue."

She sighed and grabbed her coat. Elliot followed suit, but he paused to kiss you softly before following her out the door. "I'll see you later. Love you."

You smiled. "Love you too. Be safe."

"Always," he said with a wink.

You watched him walk out the door and you felt a pang in your chest. You'd always worried about him--about all of them--every time they went out on a call, but it felt different now. Knowing he loved you as much as you loved him made it so much harder to watch him leave knowing he might never come back.

Thankfully, he did come back, though he was not in a pleasant mood. He was snapping at every person who crossed his path and anyone who dared look at him sideways.

"It was the dad, Olivia," he was yelling when you came into the squad room. "I'm sure of it."

"Okay, Elliot, but we don't have any proof!" she yelled back.

"Hey," you cut in. "What's going on."

"Little girl is in the ICU because she'd been beaten pratically to death. The doctor said there was also evidence of prolonged sexual abuse," Elliot answered.

"That's terrible."

"Yeah, what's worse is the father did it," he said angrily.

"What proof do you have?" you asked.

"God, not you too."

"El, we can't just assume it's the father without some sort of evidence."

"My instincts and years of experience not enough for you?"

"It might be enough for me, but it's not enough for a court of law," you countered.

You could see the rage in his eyes and you knew exactly what he was thinking. You knew the statistics as well as anyone, so you knew it was likely that the child had been raped by a close family member. As a father himself, Elliot hated when a father was the cause of such trauma to a child. That hatred fulled his anger, which led to poor decision making.

"Why don't I talk to the father?" you suggested.

"I'm bringing him in tomorrow morning. I want first dibs," Elliot insisted.

"I think it's best if I talk to him first," you said gently, but firmly.

"Why?"

You sighed, not really wanting to answer him. "Because I'm not sure you can be objective, Elliot."

As you suspected, that only fueled his anger more. "Of course I can be objective! I'm objective! Why do you think--"

"You're angry," you said, cutting him off.

He paused. "Of course I'm angry!"

"I may not have children, but I understand where your anger is coming from, Elliot. The difference is you let your emotions guide you--you imagine yourself in that person's shoes and it fuels your rage." You sighed deeply. "For what it's worth, I trust your judgment. If you think he's guilty, I'm inclined to agree, but I want to talk to him first."

Your words seemed to calm him down. He hated seeing a child hurt, especially one that had been hurt repeatedly. He knew you were right--he was emotional and that tended to cloud his judgment. You, on the other hand, knew how to remain calm and rational, which tended to get you better results.

"You're right. You should interview him."

At that moment, Cragen stepped out of his office. "Emily Riley just passed away. The parents are on their way down to the station now."

"What happened?" Elliot asked.

"She threw a clot to her brain. It was likely caused by the beating she took."

"Why are the parents coming down here?" you asked.

"Mrs. Riley attacked Mr. Riley. She was screaming something about him doing this to Emily. Uniformed officers are bringing them down."

You turned to look at Elliot, who had a slightly surprised look on his face. "I think that means you were right, El."

"Maybe, just once, I'd like to be wrong."

When the Rileys arrived down at the station, Fin and Munch took Mrs. Riley to an interview room, while you took Mr. Riley to another room. Olivia joined you at your request, while Elliot and Cragen watched from the other side of the glass.

It didn't take you very long to get a full confession from Mr. Riley. He admitted to sexually assaulting his daughter for several years. It took a little longer for him to admit to beating her, but eventually he did. He told you and Olivia that he had to kill Emily because she threatened to tell her mother about what he'd done to her for years.

Once he admitted that, Elliot stormed into the room and yelled at him--screaming that he was a pervert and a monster. "You'll get the needle for this...and I'll be right there watching."

Elliot put handcuffs on him and took him to booking, with Olivia trailing behind. You met Cragen outside the interrogation room and he told you you'd done a good job.

"Honestly, I'd rather never have to do an interview like that again."

"But you're good at it, (Y/N)."

"Doesn't mean I like it."

"I don't think any of us really like it."

You offered him a sad smile before walking away, heading to your office to sit down and have a nice cry.

About 30 minutes later, Elliot found you in your office, eyes red from crying.

"Doll?" he asked. "You okay?"

You nodded. "I'm fine. I just...I hate doing those."

He came around the side of your desk and pulled you into him. "I know, baby. I don't like them either."

"That poor little girl. She never had a chance."

He squeezed you tighter. "At least he's going to prison for the rest of his life...thanks to you."

You looked up at him. "I can't take all the credit. Olivia was there too."

"You're the one who won him over. You got him to admit to everything he'd ever done to his daughter."

"At least this is done. I just wanna go home."

"Me too," he said as he stood up. "Get your coat and let's get out of here."

"I want a hot bath," you grumbled.

He chuckled lightly. "Hot bath, a glass of wine, and a good night's sleep next to your very handsome boyfriend, should do the trick."

You rolled your eyes as you threw on your jacket. "I'm taking you up on that."

"It's a guarantee," he said with a wink.

**********

It had been two months since Elliot had been shot. Two of the best months you'd had in a long time. Elliot felt the same. He loved spending time with you and just being around you made him feel so at peace. Just sitting next to you on the couch while you watched a movie made him happy. It was all the little moments that warmed his heart.

Tonight was special. It was the anniversary of the day Elliot realized he was in love with you. To you, it was an ordinary Tuesday, but to him, it was one of the most important days of his life.

He'd made dinner reservations for your favorite restaurant for that evening, but he wouldn't tell you anything else he was planning.

"Why tonight? What's the occasion?" you'd asked him that morning.

"Because I love you and I want to show you just how much," he'd answered.

You didn't believe there wasn't more to it, but you let the matter drop. By the time 5pm rolled around, you'd almost forgotten about your plans for that evening.

"Come on, babe, we gotta go," Elliot said as he popped his head into your office.

"Just let me finish this--"

"We've got reservations at 6:30, sweetheart."

You looked at your watch. "It's only 5:15."

"We have to get home and change first."

"Where are we going that I can't wear this?"

"It's a surprise! Now come on."

You laughed and gathered your belongings before following him out the door.

When you arrived home, you found that Elliot had already picked out exactly what both of you would be wearing that evening. He'd selected a beautiful dress for you and a well-tailored suit for himself.

Thirty minutes later, he was dragging you out the door, insisting he didn't want to be late.

When Elliot pulled up in front of the restaurant, your face lit up in surprise. "Elliot, you hate this place," you insisted.

He shrugged. "But it's your favorite."

"El..."

"Come on, beautiful." He hopped out of the car and quickly came around to your side to help you out. He dropped his keys in the valet's outstretched hand before guiding you to the door.

"You never do valet. You always say it's a waste of money," you whispered.

"Tonight is a special occasion," he countered. "Besides, you're worth it."

You blushed heavily as he held the door open for you and followed you inside. "Is that why you took me to one of the most expensive restaurants in Manhattan?" you murmured quietly.

"Mhmm," he hummed.

"Am I missing something here? What's the special occasion?"

Before he could respond, you were met by the maitre d'. "Good evening. Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes. Two for Stabler."

The man smiled at the two of you. "Right this way sir, ma'am."

You followed him to a nice secluded table in the far corner of the restaurant. It gave Elliot an excellent view of the entrance and it suited your preference for a quiet table.

A bottle of wine was immediately brought to your table and two cups poured. It was, of course, your favorite wine.

"Seriously, El...what's with all the fanciness?"

You chuckled. "Can't I treat my girl just because I want to?"

"You can, but I know you. You don't like fancy things."

"But you do."

"Sometimes," you conceited. "Especially when it comes to food."

He grinned. "You have very high expectations as it relates to food."

"You're not wrong."

A server seemed to appear out of nowhere to take your orders. You hadn't even begun to look at the menu, but you didn't need to. You knew exactly what you wanted. After the server left, you turned your attention back to Elliot.

"Are you going to tell me what's so special about today?"

He looked you in the eyes and for some reason, his expression made you feel emotional. "Two years ago today, I realized I was in love with you. This is the first time I've actually had the opportunity to celebrate that love."

Tears welled in your eyes and you gently fanned your face with your hand. "Come on, (Y/N), don't cry in public," you said lightly to yourself.

Elliot laughed warmly and reached across the table to take your hand. The man wasn't big into romantic gestures, but he'd made an effort for you and that meant everything to you.

"This is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"You need to meet better people then," he said with a smile.

"It wouldn't have the same meaning coming from someone else."

It was his turn to blush. "You deserve to know how much you mean to me. I want to make sure you never forget it."

"I love you, Elliot," you said softly.

"Not as much as I love you."

The evening was extremely beautiful. Delicious food, incredible company...who could ask for a better night?

When you made it back home, you immediately slipped off your shoes and dropped onto the bed. "Who invented heels and can I kill them?" you grumbled.

Elliot laughed as he tugged off his tie. "I'm 80% certain murder is illegal. Besides, they make your ass look incredible."

You laughed. "You're not wrong, but only 80%?" You sat up and watched him as he continued to remove his shirt. Your eyes followed his hands as he unbuttoned his shirt--mouth watering slightly at the teasing bit of his form you could see.

Ordinarily you'd be embarrassed by how blatantly you were staring, but it had been a long time since you'd felt the touch of a man and your body suddenly lit up.

Elliot was still chattering on about something until he looked in your direction and fell silent. The look on your face was hungry--possessive even--and it sent a shock wave of desire through his body.

"Baby?" he asked tentatively.

"Come here," you responded, voice low and husky.

Even if he'd been blind and deaf, he still would have been able to feel the desire oozing from every pore in your body. It wrapped around him, enveloping every part of him, pulling him towards you.

He stopped at the edge of the bed, eyes slowly tracing over your body, waiting for you to give him permission to touch you.

"Help me up," you purred.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you to your feet. "Turn around," he said softly.

You did as he asked, exposing the zipper of your dress to him. You felt his fingers slide slowly up your spine before grasping the zipper and pulling it down at an agonizingly slow pace to just above the curve of your butt.

His lips brushed against the exposed skin of your shoulder as he began to remove your dress. He could feel your heart racing, the blood pumping through your arteries as he kissed your neck.

You gasped softly as his teeth grazed your pulse point, sending shivers through your body. His hands pushed your dress the rest of the way down, letting it pool at your feet.

You felt his hands caress you, sliding around your midsection and pulling you back against him. The way he touched you only made you want him more--the slow pace he'd set driving you crazy.

As if he sensed your need for more, his left hand began to slowly glide up your torso towards your breasts. He slid his hand across one breast and then the other, giving each one a gentle squeeze as he did so.

Your body was flush against his and you could feel his arousal pressing into your back. The lack of skin-to-skin contact was making you desperate. You needed to feel him--all of him.

You turned your head to look up at his face, but you were surprised by his heavy-lidded expression. You'd never seen him look like that and it did something to you.

Your lips parted slightly as you gazed at him and he found it impossible to resist. He leaned down to press his lips against yours, earning a soft sigh from you. You turned around so your chest was pressed against his, and your arms wound around his neck.

His shirt was already unbuttoned, so all you had to do was push it back off his shoulders and let him tug it the rest of the way off. You then let your hands wander under the hem of his undershirt, palms flattening against his taunt abs.

He knew what you wanted, so he pulled back just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head. He leaned back in to kiss you, but you pulled back slightly, hand pressed against his chest to keep him in place.

He would have been hurt by the motion if he'd missed the look on your face. Instead, he felt his chest swell with pride as you eyed him like he was the god, Adonis.

"See something you like?" he teased.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. "I see a whole lot I like."

He grinned and pulled you back in for another searing kiss. You swore that every time he touched you, it was like your body was on fire--each touch increasing the intensity of the burning. But it wasn't painful...it was an incredible feeling and you wanted more.

Elliot's hands made their way to your back, and he deftly unclasped your bra with practiced hands. You let the bra slide down your arms, exposing your breasts to his hungry eyes.

He cupped them, lifting them to his mouth as he lowered his head to taste your skin. You let out a moan of pleasure as he nipped and sucked, paying each breast and each nipple its dues.

Your fingers began to claw at his belt, desperately trying to free him from the confines of his pants. Elliot chuckled softly at both your desperation and your frustration at not being able to undo his belt.

He pulled back and nodded his head towards the bed. "Lie down, baby."

You did as he asked, eyes never leaving him. He quickly undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. He was slow to remove them, clearly enjoying the tortured expression on your face.

Your breathing was labored, despite the fact that you weren't doing a damn thing. You could feel your arousal pooling in your panties and you knew you were seconds away from completely losing it.

"How 'bout I just remove these too while I'm at it?" Elliot asked as he tugged his boxer shorts down his legs. When he stood up straight, you got your first view of his erection and you felt your pussy clench as a little gasp escaped your mouth.

He was thick and long--larger than you were used to, but not so big that it scared you. Your mouth watered slightly, the mere thought of feeling his weight on your tongue a massive turn on.

You quickly pulled yourself off the bed, cutting off Elliot's question before he could even speak as you dropped to your knees in front of him.

His eyes widened slightly as he gazed down at you. You looked up at him with a doe-eyed expression that nearly buckled his knees. He watched as you tentatively placed your hands on his thighs, eyes flicking up to his, checking to make sure it was okay.

He reached out and ran his fingers through your hair, letting you know he was comfortable. You licked your lips as your hands moved up his thighs, nails gently scratching the skin.

Elliot's breathing was already heavy and he knew he was going to have a hard time controlling his orgasm. It had been a long time for him too, after all.

You gripped his cock in your dominant hand, leaning towards him to take him into your mouth. You took as much of him as you could without gagging, eyes never leaving his face.

"Fuck," he whispered as he looked down at you.

The single curse word sounded like praise to you, so you ran with it. You wasted no time--you set a quick, intense pace, and he was loving it.

His fingers were tangled in your hair and a string of moans, heavy pants, and curses slipped from his mouth. He watched you as much as he could, but his head would roll back involuntarily as he reacted to the pleasure.

"You're doing so well, baby--feels amazing."

You moaned softly around his cock in response. The vibrations mixed with the warm, wet heaven of your mouth nearly made him cum. You felt the way his body tensed and knew he was close, so you sped up your movements, paying special attention to his sensitive head.

Elliot had been determined not to cum yet, but he was struggling to hold himself back. It just felt so damn good. "Baby, I--I'm close."

You were well aware and you wanted to taste him so badly--so you did the only logical thing...you looked up at him as you sucked, eyes filled with desire.

Within seconds, Elliot filled your throat with his cum--orgasm slamming into him like a freight train. As he started to come down from his high, he realized his grip on your hair was way too tight and he let go of you instantly.

"Sorry, baby. Did I hurt you?" he asked breathlessly.

You smiled up at him and licked your lips, making sure to get the last of his cum into your mouth. "Not at all, El. I loved every minute of it."

He relaxed and let out a relieved sigh. "Well so did I...you were phenomenal, (Y/N/N)."

He helped you up and pulled you against him so he could kiss you--not giving a damn that he could taste himself on your tongue.

"Can you lie down for me, baby? I'd like to repay the favor."

"You don't have to," you assured him as you settled onto the bed.

He looked at you in confusion. "You say it like it's some sort of chore."

You shrugged. "Not all men reciprocate."

"What kind of heathens have you been dating?"

You laughed. "Well...none of them were you."

"See, there's your problem," he teased.

He climbed onto the bed with you, hovering over your body, eyes scanning your face as if he was memorizing it.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" he murmured.

"Once or twice," you said, cheeks blushing slightly.

"Hmm," he hummed. "I've gotta tell you more often. No one compares."

Now your cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "Elliot..."

He suddenly sat up. "You know what, babe? I've got a much better idea." He flopped down onto his back. "Sit on my face."

"Say what?"

He turned his head to look at you. "Sit on my face," he said again.

"I...umm. That sounds dangerous."

He cocked an eyebrow. "It's not dangerous, it's sexy as hell."

You sat up and turned to face him. "Are you sure? I mean...couldn't I smother you?"

He laughed. "Absolutely not." His expression sobered suddenly. "Are you telling me no guy has ever asked you to sit on their face?"

You shook your head, embarrassment creeping into your face.

He sat back up and reached for you. "We don't have to do anything you don't want, but I promise you it's worth it--for both of us."

"Are you sure?" you asked again.

"I'm absolutely positive, babe."

He looked and sounded so confident--and to be honest, you'd always wanted to try it--so you nodded your agreement.

You quickly pulled your panties off before climbing on top of him. You straddled his chest--a slightly worried expression on your face.

"I promise you, you're not gonna hurt me," he reassured you. "Besides, I'm strong enough to throw you off me if I had to."

His tone was light and teasing, which made you feel better. Plus, you knew it was true--he really could throw you around if he wanted to.

You took a deep breath and moved your body so your pussy was directly over his face. You lowered yourself slightly, but you didn't actually sit on him.

He sighed in annoyance. "Did I ask you to hover over my face, baby?"

"No," you mumbled.

"What did I ask?"

"You asked me to sit."

"Mhmm...so sit."

You lowered yourself a little more, but you didn't put your full weight on him. You didn't think he would notice, but you were completely wrong.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and tugged you down so you were completely flush against him. He made the happiest noise you'd ever heard before diving into the delicious feast above him.

You nearly jumped off of him as he began to eat you out--the sensations so intense, it startled you. But holy fucking shit did it feel incredible.

The sounds coming from your mouth were loud enough to wake your neighbors. You grasped the headboard for support as you moaned and begged and chanted his name like a prayer.

All-the-while, Elliot was expertly attacking your pussy, sending wave after wave of unimaginable pleasure through your body. He groaned into you as he feasted, your cries of pleasure spurring him on.

He felt your nails rake against his scalp and your thighs began to shake. He tightened his grip on you as he continued his ministrations.

"Elliot--fuck," you gasped. "I'm so close."

"I know," he said into your pussy, knowing full well you couldn't hear him. He sped up his assault on your clit and seconds later your orgasm washed over you--screams of his name echoing in the small room.

He continued lapping up the mess you'd made, arms still wound tightly around your legs, keeping you against his mouth.

You started to squirm, but he didn't let go. "El--sensitive."

After a couple more licks, he finally released you and you practically fell off of him and onto the bed. Your legs shivered as aftershocks worked their way through your body.

Elliot was happily licking his lips as he watched you, expression smug. You looked almost delirious with pleasure and it brought him great pride.

"That...was...incredible," you said between breaths.

He grinned as he sat up. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." He wiped the rest of your slick from his face with a satisfied smirk.

You looked over at him and laughed breathlessly. He just looked so pleased with himself that you couldn't help but find it funny.

"Kiss me," you pleaded softly.

He was never one to deny you, so he pulled himself up and climbed onto your body, hovering over you once again. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips against yours, earning a contented sigh from your lips.

You cupped the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you as you deepened the kiss. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable and you could feel his arousal press against your thigh. You smiled against his lips, appreciating that he was willing and able to keep going.

Elliot felt your lips curve into a smile and he pulled away so he could look at you. "Something funny, doll?"

You shook your head. "Nothing's funny. I'm just...pleased."

He chuckled and kissed your neck. "Pleased, eh?" He pressed another kiss against your skin. "About what?"

"You," you said breathlessly--his kisses quite clearly having the desired effect on you.

He smiled as he nipped at your collar bone. "I'll take the compliment."

You lifted your hips, brushing against his cock in search of friction. He hissed softly, the feeling too much and not enough at the same time.

Elliot grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him so he could settle more comfortably between your legs. He went back to kissing you, his hands gently skimming over your skin, his cock pressed against your entrance.

You ran your fingers through his short hair and whined softly.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Need you."

"I'm right here." His teasing tone annoyed you slightly--he knew exactly what you wanted.

"Elliot," you whined.

He grinned. "Come on pretty girl, just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

"I want you."

He nipped at your jaw. "Come on...you can do better than that."

You whined again, squirming beneath him, in dire need of his touch. "I wanna feel you inside of me, Elliot--please," you begged.

He growled softly, hearing you beg for him like that made him almost feral.

To your surprise, he started to pull away from you. "El?"

"Need a damn condom."

"I'm on birth control," you said quickly.

"You sure, babe? We know this little swimmers are potent."

You laughed. "I'm sure. Come here."

He lowered himself back on top of you and lined his cock up with your entrance. His eyes locked onto yours, searching for any sign of discomfort. Seeing none, he started to push into you slowly.

The stretch was both delicious and painful at the same time. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you winced slightly when he was about halfway in.

"Shit, am I hurting you?" His worried tone matched his facial expression.

"I'm fine," you assured him. "You're just...big."

He grinned wolfishly, pride pumping through his veins. He kept pushing forward until he completely bottomed out inside you, a deep groan escaping from his lips.

He gave you a few moments to adjust before he began to move. His speed was slow and languid, and his eyes never left yours. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and enjoying yourself as much as possible.

"More," you gasped out softly.

He sped up his movements, earning a series of moans from you. He shifted his body to get a better angle and you cried out in pleasure, nails scratching into his skin.

He knew better than to slow down or shift any farther. With each thrust, he brought you closer and closer to the edge--and the convulsing of your tight pussy mixed with the sounds coming from your mouth, pushed him towards the edge too.

"Please, please, please" you chanted.

"I've got you," he murmured.

Your nails dug even deeper into his skin, drawing blood as they raked down his back. You cried out in pleasure--a sound that closely resembled his name--as your orgasm hit you.

Elliot barely held on long enough to get in another thrust before he was filling you up with his seed, whispering your name like a prayer in your ear.

As the two of you came down from your highs, Elliot slowly pulled out of you. You shivered at the loss of contact and you could feel his cum leaking from your hole.

"I'll be right back, baby," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You could hear him in the distance, but you were a little delirious from all the pleasure he'd just given you. When he came back, he scooped you up into his arms and carried you towards the bathroom.

You let out a little yelp when he lifted you--you were unaccustomed to being carried anywhere. "What--?"

"Hot bath?"

You smiled up at him. He didn't really strike you as an aftercare kind of man, but you could tell he really cared. He wanted to take care of you.

You nodded and he very gently lowered you down into the tub, which was still filling with hot water.

"Temperature okay?"

"It's perfect," you said with a sigh as you leaned back. "Join me."

"In a minute, babe."

He left the room and came back a few moments later with a lighter and a couple candles. He quickly lit them and turned off the light, so the room was bathed in a soft glow. It was surprisingly romantic.

You leaned forward so he could slide into the tub behind you. As soon as he was comfortable, he grabbed you and pulled you back against him. He kissed the top of your head and you sighed happily.

"I love you," he whispered into your hair. "So damn much."

"I love you too, Elliot."

The two of you stayed in the bath until the water began to cool. Elliot helped you dry off and slip on your nightgown before guiding you back to the bed.

He pulled on a pair of boxers and slid beneath the covers beside you. He reached out and put his arm around you, pulling you to him so your back was flush to his chest.

"Sleep well, my love," he whispered.

You were already drifting off to sleep as he uttered those sweet words. He didn't need a reply--he knew exactly how you felt by the way you curled into him, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

#elliot stabler x reader #elliot stabler #elliot stabler x reader smut #detective stabler #law and order svu #law and order svu smut #detective stabler smut #elliot stabler smut

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honeyfarts666 · 15 days ago

Text

Defiant Submission

Previously Titled: A Party Most Vile

Lucius Verus x OFC

Mutual non-con, Slavery, Breeding, Angst, Aftercare, Shame

(please check out all the tags listed on Ao3 for full content warning)

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Chapter 1: A Party Most Vile on Ao3 or tumblr

Chapter 2: An Heir on Ao3 or tumblr

New! Chapter 3: Ragged Breaths on Ao3 or under the cut ↓

Words: 7,557

Excerpt:

Lucius knew that she must have gotten with child. Every night, as he attempted to sleep, his mind filled with thoughts of her and the babe. But seeing her in the flesh with his child so obviously growing inside of her… He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was feel his heart pounding in his chest, a beating drum with an ever-increasing tempo.

AN:

I posted this on Ao3 a while ago but I never got around to making a mood board and posting it here. rip me and my schedule. Enjoy!

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Lucius parried a thrust from a sword with his own as the crowd roared around him. Dry dust hung in the air and irritated his lungs. The other gladiator was new. He was bigger than Lucius, but he was also younger and less experienced. All Lucius had to do was wait for an opening. The other gladiator swung his sword in a wild arc. Lucius leapt back, just in time, as the blade slashed though the air where his nose had been.

The gladiator swung at Lucius again and again in quick succession. The young gladiator certainly didn’t know how to use his sword properly, but he was fast. Lucius would have to be faster. He pushed forward, forcing the other gladiator into a defensive position. But it was short-lived. Somehow, the gladiator managed to twist away from Lucius and knock him down. Lucius fell on the flat of his back with a heavy thud. He had barely registered what happened before the gladiator was standing over him, sword ready to plunge into his chest. Lucius rolled away and scrambled to his feet. He felt blood on his face, but there was no time to wipe it away.

The other gladiator swung his sword in a broad arc again, coming nowhere near Lucius. The gladiator was a decent fighter close up, but he didn’t know what to do at a distance. Lucius could use that. He took a step forward and, predictably, the gladiator’s blade arced toward him. This time, Lucius didn’t jump back. He leaned back to avoid the weapon. The very tip of the blade scraped a clean line across his left cheek. First blood.

A cheer went up from the crowd. The gladiator took a moment to gaze upon the crowds, believing their cheers were for him. It was a grave mistake and the last one he would ever make. Lucius lunged forward, his sword aimed at the other gladiator’s throat. Before the man could react, Lucius plunged his sword into the man’s flesh. The gladiator gasped in surprise and a river of red blood poured from his mouth. Lucius yanked his sword free, and the gladiator’s body fell to the dirt.

The audience roared their approval, but Lucius didn’t hear any of it. It was all drowned out by the turbulence of his mind. He glanced at the imperial box. The twin emperors were there, cheering as much as the commoners. But, behind them, he saw his mother, Lucilla, sitting still and proud with stately poise. Even before he turned to look at her, he knew she was watching him.

In the months since he was forced to lay with Naevia, he had grown numb to everything. Over the course of a fortnight, Lucius had lain with Naevia eight times. Each time, she had spread her legs for him and accepted him with a gentleness he did not deserve. And each time, Macrinus had loomed over them, watching with mild disinterest. The humiliation of being used as breeding stock was more than he could bear. He couldn’t think of it without shuddering in shame and disgust.

It had been six months and Lucius had not seen Naevia nor heard any mention of her. There could only be one reason why, and Lucius tried not to think about it. Instead, he threw himself into practice. If his body was moving, he could drown out the noise in his head. He could lose himself in the motions and forms. With a sword in his hand, he could feel like he had control of his fate. But once he walked back through the Gates of Life and left the arena, the guards took the sword from him.

The only good thing about “performing” was that he was allowed a bath afterward. The bathing chambers were the only place in the Colosseum that didn’t feel like a rat’s nest. And they were the only place where he was allowed privacy. Even in his cell, he was constantly watched by the guards and other gladiators. A slave helped him shed his armor and then he was left alone with his bath. He peeled off the rags he wore. His skin was chaffed at the neck where the rags didn’t quite reach the place where the armor touched his skin. There was a large bruise on his ribs and a dozen small cuts across his face and arms. He had survived much worse before.

It was only when he slipped into the warm water that he realized how exhausted he was. Every muscle in his body cried out with weariness. He knew it was better that way. If he was too exhausted to think, then his thoughts couldn’t trouble him. He had become a creature of instinct, slowly giving up every part of him until only a gladiator remained. Every day, he felt less and less like a man and more like a rabid dog. A thing. A creature to be feared and repulsed by. A creature that lived not on bread and water but on hate and revenge. He didn’t want it. But it was the only way to survive in the colosseum. Another layer of his humanity was stripped away with each hour. Each stroke of his sword. Each breath.

He dipped his head under the water and let the warmth of the bath completely envelop him for a moment. He resurfaced and sat against the wall near the edge. The stone behind him was uneven and rough. But, nonetheless, Lucius settled against it and closed his eyes. He had not known true rest since before his enslavement and he doubted he ever would again.

The sound of the door’s iron hinges swinging caused Lucius’s eyes to snap open. Macrinus entered with a pleased grin. “You did well today, Hanno,” he said as he placed two gold coins on the edge of the bath. It had become a ritual at this point. Lucius fights, he wins, he takes a bath, and Macrinus bestows his earnings. “As you have in every fight.”

Lucius held his jaw tight and gave his master a nod. Macrinus never spoke of Naevia during their meetings, and Lucius never dared to ask after her. It would only give Macrinus the satisfaction of knowing he had succeeded in forming an emotional bond between them. On top of that, Lucius didn’t want to know. Knowing her fate would do nothing to soothe him.

“I have another gift for you,” Macrinus said coyly.

Lucius turned away and said, “I have no need of your gifts.”

“You don’t even know what it is yet.”

Lucius couldn’t resist the harsh retort that fell from his lips, “Another bitch you want me to breed?”

Macrinus laughed heartily. He walked to the door, which stood slightly ajar, and opened it. Naevia stood on the other side. All the air left Lucius’s body as his eyes fell on her face. He couldn’t believe that she was here in front of him! A sudden relief filled him, a sensation he hadn’t known in so long. And then his eyes drifted lower. His mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he beheld her swollen belly. Her simple garments did nothing to hide her condition.

Naevia covered her belly with her hands protectively as she entered the room. Her cheeks were flushed with nervousness. She must have overheard what he had said, and Lucius instantly regretted his harsh words. She glanced between Lucius and Macrinus, clearly uncertain what she was supposed to do next.

Macrinus closed the door and then placed a hand on the small of Naevia’s back. She stiffened under his touch but did not move. “She grows more radiant every day,” Macrinus mused, “I thought you would enjoy her company this evening.” Lucius was still frozen. He couldn’t speak or even think of any words at all. Macrinus, clearly growing impatient, cocked his head and said, “Very well, if you do not want her I will take her back.”

“No!” Lucius shouted instantly, reaching his hand toward her and then pulling himself back. He hated that Macrinus could draw such a reaction from him. But he couldn’t bare the thought of Naevia leaving. Not before he could touch her. Hold her. Feel her skin against his own. Feel the roundness of her belly– He couldn’t let Macrinus take her away!

Macrinus smirked, as he always did. He turned to Naevia and said, “Go join him in the bath.”

Naevia nodded and untied the knot that fastened her robe in place. The fabric fell to the floor and revealed her body to Lucius. She was more than beautiful. She was ethereal. It seemed to Lucius that the rest of the room was cast in dark shadows and she was the only source of light. She placed a hand over her belly again as she walked toward the bath. Lucius couldn’t help but follow her movement and allow his eyes to settle on her womb. She was showing even more than he initially thought. The graceful curve of her body revealed the small life growing inside. Her breasts were larger too, already starting to swell with milk for their babe. Seeing how much her body had changed moved Lucius in a way he wasn’t expecting. He felt fear and terror rumbling deep within him. But he also felt an immediate and overwhelming surge of protectiveness for her.

When Lucius was finally able to tear his eyes away from Naevia’s body, he looked at her eyes and saw she was already looking at him. A blush had spread across her cheeks and down her neck. She must have seen him staring at her body. He swallowed a dry lump in his throat.

Naevia reached the edge of the bath, and Lucius suddenly remembered himself. He stood quickly, water splashing as he moved across the short distance that separated them. He held out his hand, droplets rolled across his palm and down his fingers. Naevia took it without hesitation and his heart soared. He helped her climb into the bath, placing his other hand on her back as she swung her legs into the pool. As she shifted, the hand Lucius had on her back suddenly became a hand on her side. He was almost touching her belly. Almost.

As she stepped into the bath, Naevia looked up at him with nervous anticipation, waiting for him to move. But he couldn’t. After so many months of numbness and isolation, it was too real. All he could do was tremble. He hadn’t dared to hope that he would see her again. And yet, he was also overcome with a fear that it was all a dream. That, at any moment, he would wake up alone in a cold bath with only the memory of her specter to comfort him.

“Lucius?” Naevia whispered, breaking the long silence.

Lucius’s eyes snapped to hers. She looked worried. Her brow was furrowed in concern. And then he realized the concern was for him. Obviously! He must look even more terrified than she did. He took a steadying breath. Fear was a luxury he could not afford. He needed to be strong. He needed to pull himself together! He flexed his hands, feeling her warm, solid body against his touch. She was no illusion. Slowly, Lucius moved his trembling hand from her waist to her belly. His hand rested just below her navel. He took another steadying breath, and then another. She was real. The child was real! He had sired a child! He felt waves of joy and shame crash over him in equal measure.

Naevia opened her mouth to speak but then thought better of it. After all, they weren’t alone. Instead, she covered his hand with her own. It was a simple gesture, but Lucius felt in her touch the weight of all the emotion she desperately wanted to express. Tears formed in his eyes. He couldn’t have stopped them even if he had tried. He wasn’t sure if they were tears of joy or tears of desperation. Perhaps, they were both.

And then, he felt it. A quake under his palm. It was over so fast, Lucius wasn’t sure if he imagined it. But then, it happened again! Naevia let out a soft gasp and clutched his hand as the tremor passed. They looked at each other. Lucius was certain he must look like a mad man. Tears rimmed the edges of his wide eyes, and his jaw trembled with each ragged breath he took. Naevia also had tears in her eyes, but she always looked beautiful when she cried.

A tear slipped down Lucius’s cheek. Naevia lifted her hand to wipe it away, but she stopped in her tracks when Macrinus spoke, “This will be your first bore, yes?”

Lucius startled. He had nearly forgotten Macrinus was still with them. He glared at the man even as the tear reached his jaw. Lucius had once believed the hatred he felt for Acacius was the pinnacle of the emotion. But now, the cold cruelty of a soldier seemed nothing compared to the devastating, personal attacks that Macrinus dealt for no reason except his own amusement. “Yes,” Lucius replied bitterly, his jaw tightly set.

“I can see how much her presence invigorates you,” Macrinus smiled and clasped his hands. “Would you like to see her more often?”

Lucius blinked slowly. What was Macrinus offering?

“Did you hear me, Lucius?” Macrinus asked sharply.

Lucius nodded, “I heard you.”

“Well?” Macrinus asked, his arms opening to emphasize his question.

He didn’t know what game Macrinus was playing, but he was certain this was a trap. Some sort of snare to tangle him and secure his destiny as a slave. Lucius lifted his chin and what was left of his pride and asked, “Will I be allowed to see the child when it is born?”

Macrinus’s lips twitched into a grin, “As long as you remember your place. Do you think you can manage that?”

Lucius still had one hand on Naevia’s belly and he felt the child move again. Naevia leaned into him and let out a soft whimper. The whole time, his eyes remained locked with Macrinus’s. It was a battle of wills that Lucius was certain to lose. But he had to fight, even for just a moment! Through gritted teeth, Lucius murmured, “Yes, master,” and bowed his head in submission. Those two words were always painful to utter, but they were the only ones that would pacify Macrinus. And indeed, he gave one last icy smile and turned on his heel, leaving them in the chamber.

As the door banged shut, Lucius instantly gripped Naevia to his chest and let out a shaky breath. One hand held her against her back, pushing her deeper into his embrace. The other stayed firmly against her belly. Naevia quickly reciprocated and wrapped her arms around him, holding him just as tightly as he held her. For a long moment, it was all they could do. Lucius pressed his cheek to the top of Naevia’s head and began to rock them back and forth gently. She sniffled and trembled against him. And Lucius felt her hot tears land on his shoulder.

In a quiet voice, Naevia confessed, “I feared I would never see you again.” Lucius pulled away from her just enough to meet her eye. Tears painted her cheeks and she smiled at him with sadness burning in her look. “And then today, when Macrinus brought me here, I feared you were already dead!”

Lucius kissed her brow and stroked his hand down her back. “I am well,” he murmured, low and soothing.

Naevia shook her head and ran her finger along the cut on his cheek. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s only a scratch,” he reassured her.

Naevia opened her mouth to reply, but instead she let out a shuddering gasp. Lucius pressed his hand firmly against her belly and felt the child kick furiously. As the tremors passed, Lucius moved his hand in slow, comforting circles over her skin. Naevia looked up at him and said, “He is strong, like his father.”

Lucius’s eyes snapped to hers. “You believe it is a boy?” he asked automatically.

Naevia shrugged and blushed lightly, “Perhaps. Some of the other women say the signs foretell a boy.”

Naevia shivered against him. Lucius ran his hand over her back and felt the goosebumps that had spread across her skin. He suddenly felt ashamed for not considering her needs. He took her hand and gently pulled her deeper into the bath, towards the wall where he sat before. Naevia relaxed slightly as she lowered, and the warm water enveloped her. Her loose hair cascaded down her shoulders. The ends that dipped into the water fanned out in a circle around her and made her look like a river goddess from a legend. She was the loveliest creature in all existence, and Lucius needed to be closer to her. He sat next to her so that their shoulders and thighs touched. He couldn’t bare to be parted from her, even for a moment. Almost instantly, Naevia turned toward him. She rested her head on his shoulder and hooked her knees over his thigh, so her legs dangled between his. Lucius’s heart soared as she reciprocated his touch. He snaked his arm around her waist and drew soft circles on her skin with his fingertips.

Silence lingered between them; the only sound was the soft lap of the water against the stone. They had never spoken much after their forced couplings. Lucius had rarely thought of anything to say to her other than gentle reassurances. He knew her body. It felt like an intrusion to know her mind as well. To demand so much from her. But now, Lucius wasn’t sure what to do. It was the first time he wasn’t forced to breed her. The first time he didn’t have to rape her while someone watched. As the silence dragged on, Lucius felt his anxiety building. What could he even say to her? What words could mend the terrible mess they were entangled in? His mind couldn’t focus enough to find a suitable answer and he doubted that one existed at all.

“What are the signs?” he asked in a low voice.

Naevia furrowed her brow in confusion, “What?”

“The signs,” he said again, “That the child is a boy.”

“Oh,” Naevia replied in soft surprise. “Well, I couldn’t sleep well for the first few months, and one of the other slave women told me that means it is a boy. And then, later on, she told me the shape of my belly is also a sign of a boy. But then, I started craving figs and another woman said that was a sign of a girl, so…”

Lucius hummed, “So, you’re not sure?”

Naevia shook her head, “No, not really.”

Lucius felt a strange sense of relief wash through him. He gave her a tender smile, “So, there is still a chance it will be a girl?”

“You wish for a daughter?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Lucius replied earnestly.

Naevia continued to stare at him as though he had suddenly sprouted a second head. “I thought all men desired sons.”

“Free men, perhaps,” Lucius mused. He thought for another moment, and then replied, “If the child is a boy, he will suffer the same fate I do. He will become a gladiator; Macrinus will see to it. But if the child is a girl, then she will be spared.” When Lucius turned to her, Naevia’s brow was knit together and a pensive frown deepened in her cheeks. She was so distracted, she startled when Lucius brushed his hand over her cheek. He whispered her name with concern, “Naevia?”

Naevia shook her head lightly, as if to clear away a heavy shroud of thought. “I- I don’t see it that way,” she said carefully.

Lucius see her hesitation plainly. She was afraid to speak her mind and he couldn’t live with that. He brushed his fingers over the side of her face and said, “Tell me.”

Naevia let out a frightened breath and rubbed slow circles over her womb. She softly said, “If the child is a boy, he will be taught to fight and to defend himself. He will be a gladiator, yes. But, he will have the chance to change his stars!” Her excitement faded and she swallowed a heavy lump in her throat, “But a girl? Slave girls are not taught to be brave or strong. They are only taught to be silent while they are raped.”

Lucius felt his stomach twist. He hadn’t even considered that possibility. That their daughter would be just as subjugated as her mother. He suddenly felt deeply naive and foolish. Boy or girl, their child would know nothing but struggle. Nothing but hardship. Nothing but strife. No matter what, their child would be a slave, doomed from the very start. Unless he saved them. Lucius’s eyes darted to the gold coins Macrinus had left on the ledge and he thought of the small pile he had hidden in his cell. They had started to add up. But it was still nowhere near enough to buy Naevia. And once the child was born, there would be another price to pay. Not to mention, that he still had to buy his own freedom. He was certain death would find him long before he could achieve any of it. It was an impossible task.

He regretted every action that had led him to this point. He regretted giving into Macrinus’s whims. He regretted ever touching Naevia. He regretted his vow of vengeance, his driving force of will, his hatred of Rome. But most of all, he regretted that he had lived. If only he had died that fateful day! Then none of this would have happened! He would be holding Arishat in the afterlife. What must she think of him now? He hated to think of her looking down on him, seeing what he had become.

The tense silence and stillness was broken when Naevia reached for the sponge. She dabbed it into the water and then started washing Lucius’s shoulders. Lucius tried to take the sponge from her hand, but she stopped him. “Please, let me,” she whispered. Lucius couldn’t find it in himself to resist. All he could do was watch her as she carefully washed the dirt and blood from his wounds. Her touch was enamoring. She was so tender and gentle. It stirred up a violent storm of emotion deep within Lucius’s chest. He wanted to hold her in his arms. He wanted to escape and take her far away. He wanted to hold her close and feel her body shake with the pleasure he would give her. He needed to protect her, provide for her. There was a sharp pain in his heart as he realized he would never be able to do so.

After another moment, Naevia asked, “Are you truly from Numidia?”

Lucius shook his head, “I lived there for a time, but I was born here in Rome.”

Naevia looked nervous, but she pressed on anyway, “I’ve heard Macrinus mention your mother. She is a noble woman?”

Lucius hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t sure how much of his past he should reveal to Naevia. She was still practically a stranger to him. But, surely, it wouldn’t hurt to confirm what she already knew. He nodded and said, “She is.”

Naevia ran the sponge over each of his shoulders. She furrowed her brow and began to ask, “How did…”

“How did I become a slave?” Lucius finished for her. Naevia blushed and nodded. Lucius thought for a moment. He didn’t want to lie to her. But he also couldn’t tell her everything. Not without endangering her. Lucius cast his eyes away from her and said, “After my father died, my mother sent me away. She knew that, if I stayed in Rome, someone would murder me and usurp my position. So, she sent me to Egypt. But even there, it wasn’t safe. I fled to Numidia and forgot who I was… until the invasion.”

“I am sorry,” Naevia said with genuine sympathy. She continued with bathing him; letting the warm water wash away everything from sand and blood to his anxiety and fears. There would be a time for fear, but it was not now. At that moment, he could pretend that the bath chamber was the entire world and they were the only two people in it.

Lucius looked back to Naevia then. He could see her curious nature bubbling to the surface as she wondered about him. Lucius had revealed some of himself to her, but he still knew next to nothing of her past. “What of you?” he asked her, “Where were you born?”

Naevia gave him a surprised look, as though she hadn’t expected him to care. But her surprise quickly melted into a light smile. “I was also born in Rome. I have never left.”

“You were born a slave?” he asked with gentleness.

Naevia nodded. She ran the sponge down his arms and kept her eyes focused on her work. “My mother was handmaiden to an old widow, who was always kind to us. I didn’t really understand that we were slaves, not until she died. Her son sold me and my mother and we were separated. I never saw her again.”

A familiar ache grew in Lucius’s heart. He knew what it was to be separated from the only person who loved him. The only difference was that his mother had willfully sent him away. “How old were you?” Lucius asked.

“Seven,” Naevia replied. She did not meet his eye. Instead, she kept her focus on the sponge as she moved down his chest, carefully circling over his skin in smooth spirals. Her touch was mesmerizing, nearly putting him in trance. Naevia’s hand slowly lowered down his chest until it was submerged under the water, growing closer to where his base instincts wanted her to be.

Lucius sucked in a low breath, trying desperately to control himself. After so many months alone and estranged to any gentle touch, he felt like a beast, half-starved and aching with need. Guilt flowed through him as his cock stiffened. He prayed Naevia wouldn’t notice. She would certainly be disgusted by him if she did. But, almost instantly, her hand fell even lower and the back of her hand brushed against his hard cock. Both of them let out a soft gasp of breath at the contact. Naevia froze and blushed deeply. They locked eyes. But instead of the revulsion he was expecting, she looked at him with wondrous anticipation. She let go of the sponge and it bobbed to the surface, floating away from them. She slowly wrapped her hand around his throbbing cock, stroking him sweetly. Lucius’s breath hitched and he let out a soft groan. Gods! It had been so long. But that was no excuse for him to act like nothing more than an animal! His hand moved through the water to stop her. “Naevia,” he said with a difficult strain, “You don’t have to-”

“It’s okay,” she whispered as she leaned further into his embrace, “I want to please you.”

Lucius’s heart nearly burst. She was so good to him and he couldn’t understand why. He searched her face for the answer but found only a soft look of tender devotion. She stroked him again and, this time, he didn’t stop her. She found a gentle rhythm that had Lucius releasing soft sighs into the air. He let his eyes close and his head tilt back, losing himself in her touch. Her hands were deft, teasing over his tip and then plunging down his shaft. His cock throbbed with need, and his whole body pulsed with lust. She had infected every part of him. She had crept into his mind and burrowed in so deeply, he knew he would never be able to forget the way she worshiped his cock in sweet revere.

Acting on instinct, Lucius gripped Naevia’s hips and pulled her onto his lap. Water splashed between them as Naevia gasped and clutched his shoulders desperately. Her swollen belly and breasts were pressed against his stomach and chest. Another month and this position would become far more difficult. But he could still manage. And he had no desire to bend her over and take her like an animal. She deserved more than that. Her core quivered as his cock pressed against her. Even through the water, he could feel her wetness as he rutted against her. He pressed his hips up and his cock easily slid through her folds. She let out a soft whine, that practically begged him to enter her. He held onto her hips and eased her down his cock. As he entered her, he saw stars behind his eyes. She was even tighter than he remembered. Tighter, warmer, wetter. His memory could never do her justice. Her cunt was a pulsing vice made just for him and her moans were the sweetest music in all the earth. He was certain, if he wasn’t careful, her power would consume him.

Lucius adjusted his grip, shifting his hands from her hips to the roundness of her ass. Naevia whined as he lifted her, pulling out to the tip. It was easy for him to lift her in the water. And even easier to push her back down onto his length. He set a slow pace; he didn’t want to hurt her or the babe. But he also needed to be inside of her. The water splashed about them, waves slowly increasing in size as his thrusts became more fervent. Naevia, sweet as ever, could do nothing but moan and grip his shoulders like her life depended on it. Sitting on his lap, her face was above his. He tilted his chin up to get a better look at her. Her jaw hung open in a prolonged, silent gasp and her eyes were screwed shut. She seemed completely lost in the sensation of his cock splitting her open.

His pace quickened. He couldn’t help it. He needed it, that blissful ache as he entered her again and again. But it wasn’t enough. He needed more of her. “Naevia,” her name fell from his lips with a groan.

Naevia’s eyes fluttered open and looked down upon him as they held each other in their lustful embrace. The hazy look she gave him let Lucius know that she was just as far gone as he was. Neither of them would last very long after so many months apart. One of her hands tangled through his hair, scraping her nails across his scalp. In response, Lucius gripped her ass tighter. Part of him worried that he might leave bruises. But another part of him delighted in the thought of leaving his marks strewn across her skin.

As he pounded into her, one of his hands came to rest over her womb, drawing contemplative circles with his palm. Lucius had come undone faster than he ever had before. He was lost in her and he never wanted to be found. He leaned forward and nuzzled against her, breathing in her scent as she brought him to the edge of bliss.

Naevia clenched around his cock. Lucius couldn’t stop the desperate moan that fell from his lips. They met eyes then. Naevia gazed at him with a longing desperation, like she wanted something but was afraid to ask. The air between them suddenly grew thick with anticipation. Lucius’s eyes fell to her parted lips. They looked so smooth and plump. He had felt those beautiful lips on his cock several times before, but he had never pressed his own lips against them. Before he could think twice, he leaned in and kissed her, hard and fierce. All of Naevia’s tension dissolved under his touch. She opened to him, allowing his tongue to slide against hers in a dance of passion and need. She was sweeter than honey, sweeter than any fruit he had ever tasted. And then, he came. A warm bliss filled every part of him and he struggled to remain upright. He surged forward and broke their kiss with a deep groan as his seed spilled into her womb. Naevia brought her hand to his face and pulled him into another kiss, recapturing his lips as she continued to rock against him, slow and soft but still so tight.

As the bliss of his orgasm passed, Lucius cut off the kiss sharply. He turned his face away. It took a good deal of restraint not to shove Naevia away from him as he felt the guilt of his actions weigh upon his shoulders. He glanced to the heavens and then shut his eyes in despair. He had a wife, for fuck's sake! A dead wife, a little voice in the back of his head reminded him. A wife who was waiting for him in the afterlife. A wife who watched over him. How could he ever join her again when he had abandoned her in this life?

Naevia trembled as she clung to his shoulders. She didn’t deserve to be wrapped up in the long tragedy of his life. Yet, she was trapped here with him all the same. Her brow was furrowed in deep worry. She whispered softly, “I am sorry. I know I cannot replace your wife. But…”

Her words drew Lucius from the tangle of his dark thoughts. “You’ve done nothing wrong,” he told her sincerely. “It is I who should beg your forgiveness.” Naevia shook her head, but Lucius kept going, “You are right. My thoughts linger on my wife, even as I hold you in my arms. I am sorry.”

Naevia nodded solemnly. “I understand. You must have loved her very much.”

Lucius swallowed a lump and then said, “I have sustained myself with the knowledge that we will be reunited in the next life. But now,” his hand shifted in small circles over her womb, “I don’t know how will I face her again.”

Lucius and Naevia fell into a prolonged silence. The chamber became frightfully still. Even the lapping water fell silent. There was nothing more they could say. Nothing that would give either of them, or their child, peace.

Lucius welcomed the darkness and solitude of his cell after the bath. Between the fighting and the sex, he was thoroughly exhausted. But still, sleep evaded him. As much as the hind part of his brain felt the urge to protect Naevia and hold her close, he dreaded seeing her again. The shame he felt consumed what little joy he could feel. There was tenderness between them, but it was not love. How could love be forged in such gruesome circumstances? But he did love the child. He was certain of that, even though it was still unborn. The protectiveness he felt for Naevia grew tenfold as soon as the babe entered his mind. He would rather die than let any harm come to the child. He knew that for certain.

As the stillness of the night wore on, Lucius thought of his father. His true father, Maximus. He had seen him fight in the arena a dozen times, but he had only spoken to the man once briefly. The memory of his father’s death brought a new tide of emotion down upon him. Lucius would have given anything to be able to talk to him, to hear his advice. But another, bitter, thought came to his mind: that his father would be ashamed of him for all he had done. Forsaking his wife and siring a bastard in a slave girl? Surely, the honorable Maximus would have never done such a thing! But, then again, was Lucius not a bastard himself? Had he not been passed off as another man’s son? Named for another man? But those were his mother’s sins, not his father’s. He wondered if Maximus had even known that he was his son.

His thoughts were interrupted by the jingle of the guard’s keys. It wasn’t uncommon for visitors to come to the gladiators at night. Mostly, they were whores. Paid for by generous masters or by the gladiators themselves. Lucius rolled onto his side and prepared to ignore the sounds of sex that would surely follow.

He was unprepared when the guard stopped outside his cell and opened the door. Lucius instantly went on full alert and sat up. But his shoulders relaxed when he saw Lucilla quickly round the corner and enter his cell. She wore a hooded cloak, but Lucius recognized the luxurious fabric from her previous visit. The guard shut the door with a sharp clang and left to give them some privacy. Only then, did Lucilla pull back her hood. Lucius stood but he did not approach her. There was still a chasm between them, stretching infinitely and irreconcilably.

Lucilla clasped her hands to her chest. She looked like she wanted to extend her arms to him. She looked like she wanted to cry as she held him. But, ever the diplomat, she restrained herself. “My son,” she whispered, “I am glad you are well.”

Lucius nodded to her but didn’t reply. He could not answer her with some pleasant nicety, it wouldn’t be truthful.

After another moment, she added, “I feared I would be forced to watch you die today.”

Lucius held back a scoff. What did she know of force? Her position gave her the privilege to do as she willed. If his death was so upsetting to her, she could have left!

Lucilla took a cautious step toward him, still clutching her hands to her chest. She absent-mindedly toyed with a ring on her finger, twirling it around as an anxious distraction. “I have come because there is something I must tell you.” She took a sharp breath and continued in a low voice, “There is a plan in motion to depose the emperors and restore the republic.”

Lucius wasn’t expecting that. He raised his eyebrows and took a half-step forward.

“Acacius and I have coordinated with some of the Senators. But we will need your help.”

“How?” Lucius asked sternly. He didn’t have any interest in helping Lucilla for her sake. But if it meant the downfall of the wicked emperors, it might be worth it.

“The army is stationed in the countryside, just three days ride from the city,” Lucilla said with eagerness. “They will arrive while the games are in progress. If the gladiators were to rise up in revolt at that moment, we can overwhelm the city from within and without.”

Lucius was stunned. It was a bold plan but also a dangerous one, with plenty of opportunity for things to go wrong. “What would you have me do?” he asked.

“Organize the gladiators,” Lucilla said. “I know you hold some sway. You are admired by all. If you can convince them to join us-”

“I cannot,” Lucius said roughly.

“Yes, you can!” Lucilla insisted. She took another step toward him and then another. “You are respected! They will listen to you!”

“No!” Lucius snapped, a little too loud. Lucilla took a small step back, and Lucius felt a pang of guilt in his heart. Whatever his feelings for her, he did not wish to frighten her. In a softer voice, he told her, “It is not possible.”

Another look of terrible concern fell over Lucilla’s face. “Lucius,” she whispered, “Help me understand.”

Lucius gulped. That was the last thing he wanted to do. To explain to his mother the strangle-hold Macrinus held him in. Instead, he said, “Macrinus has eyes and ears in every crevice of the city, especially in the Colosseum. He will find out.”

Lucilla steadied herself and said, “Even if he does, there is nothing he can do to stop it!”

Lucius gave her a long look. Lucilla waited for his response with an earnest look. When he could take no more of it, he turned away and said, “I cannot help you.”

Lucilla closed the space between them, all of her hesitation and fear was gone. Some motherly intuition must have guided her. For, in a gentle voice, she asked, “What hold does he have over you?”

Lucius couldn’t reply. He was too ashamed. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, unable to meet Lucilla’s eye. How could he explain to her what had happened? What he had done? How could he tell her that, in just a few month’s time, she would be a grandmother? He swallowed a lump in his throat and released a shaky breath. He turned his gaze back to his mother. Lucilla looked at him with a deep concern, as though she feared what he was about to say. “There is a slave girl in Macrinus’s house,” he started slowly and then hesitated. He took another steadying breath before he could continue, “She is carrying my child.”

Lucilla’s expression melted into one of sorrowful compassion. She reached for Lucius, placing her hand upon his cheek, offering what little comfort she could. “Oh, my son!” she whispered. “How much more suffering will the gods force you to endure?”

For once, Lucius did not pull away from her. Her touch no longer stung as it had during her previous visit. Instead, for the first time in nearly two decades, he felt all the love she bore for him. And he knew he was unworthy. She had not turned away from him in disgust, but she certainly would once she learned the whole truth. Lucius closed his eyes as he felt tears begin to surface.

Lucilla stroked her hand though his hair and said, “Tell me her name. Perhaps I can buy her from Macrinus and then-”

“No,” Lucius cut her off, snapping his eyes back to hers, “Macrinus knows! He knows that the child is mine and he knows that you are my mother. He will never let you buy her!”

Lucilla was stunned. Her hand fell from Lucius’s face to his shoulder. She steadied herself against his solid frame, “He knows?”

Lucius nodded in reply.

“How?” Lucilla asked in horror.

Lucius let out a dark scoff, “You think he wouldn’t notice the former emperor’s daughter visiting one of his slaves?”

A light blush colored Lucilla’s cheeks, and she withdrew her hand. And then Lucius felt guilty. No matter what she had done, she was still his mother. She was one of two people in the whole world who truly cared for him. Lucius reached out his hand and took Lucilla’s in his own. “Mother,” he whispered softly, “I didn’t intend to chide you. But you depend too much on your servants keeping their ears closed. You cannot trust them to keep your secrets! Especially when the consequences are so dire.”

Lucilla nodded. Her hand came back up to his face and cradled his cheek against her palm. With a sorrowful sigh, she said, “You are just like him.”

Lucius’s jaw trembled. Even a mention of his father had his emotions bubbling over. Lucius covered Lucilla’s hand with his own. “My father,” Lucius began slowly, “Did he… did he know?”

Lucilla gazed at him with tearful eyes and said, “We never spoke of it. But, I believe he knew. Especially after he saw you.”

Lucius swallowed a terrible lump in his throat and nodded fiercely.

Lucilla continued with a sad smile, “He did love you. His final words were, ‘Lucius is safe.’”

Lucius returned the sad smile and shook his head. “But it wasn’t true, was it?” he asked. “Killing Commodus wasn’t enough.”

Lucilla shook her head, “Commodus was the greater evil. But Rome is full of evils, great and small. And all of them wanted you dead.” A tear trailed down her cheek.

Lucius let out a small, dark laugh, “They still do.”

Lucilla was about to reply when the sound of the guard approaching, cut her off. She turned back to Lucius and said, “I cannot linger here long. I will do what I can for the girl.”

Lucilla began to turn away, but Lucius snatched up her hand. “Do nothing!” he begged, “Do not interfere! It will not end how you hope.”

Before Lucilla could reply, the guard rounded the corner and twisted the key in the lock. Without privacy, neither of them dared to continue their conversation. Instead, Lucilla gave his hand a soft squeeze. She lifted her chin and said, “Strength and honor, gladiator.” Lucius nodded to her silently. There was no use trying to say more. Lucilla pulled up her hood and left the cell.

Have you sinned recently? Because I have been sinning non-stop since I saw this fucking movie!! I really thought the first two chapters would have worked this out of my system. But nope! Here we are!!

AN:

Hello again, friends!

As always, thank you, dear reader! I am always amazed that so many people read my little stories! And it is comforting to know I'm not the only degenerate sinner among the populace lmao!!

I would really like to give this story a proper ending. But I'm not sure what to do with it anymore. At this point, I am taking requests! How do you want to see this end?? What other miseries should Lucius endure?? Happy ending? Sad ending? Long, drawn out ending? All of the above? Whatever it is, it will be depraved!

Please consider leaving a comment! I cannot express how much I love reading them! And you can always scream into my ask box!

#lucius verus #lucius verus fic #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii fic #paul mescal fic #lucius verus x oc #lucius verus x ofc #gladiator ii smut #myfic #mymoodboard #defiant submission

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saturnscode · 1 year ago

Text

PART 1

Pete's skin is soft.

And Vegas has tasted every bit of it.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he wasn’t supposed to be lying on the bed with Pete's arms wrapped around his waist and the sunlight coming through the window kissing his bare back. Vegas wasn’t supposed to be brushing his hair from his eyes feeling like he’s running out of air because he has finally come to the conclusion he's been avoiding for weeks.

But last night, as he fucked Pete, slowly and tenderly until their muscles were sore and their heads were spinning, he knew it was too late for him. He was already in love.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Pete was just a tool to get close to Porsche and piss his cousin off and ruin the deal of the hotel's new branches. He just wanted to mess with their heads like he’s been doing his entire life, Pete was a mere link, a fun fuck. Because that’s what Vegas does to gain trust, that’s how he has snatched all Kinn’s boyfriends before. With sex.

But it all went to hell when Vegas kissed those lips in the dirty alley behind Porsche's bar. His mind went numb when he heard Pete's little noises every time he touched him.

Vegas was so fucked he felt suffocating.

He closed his eyes when he felt Pete's eyes wandering on his chest and he felt out a breath when his lips touched his jawline.

"What's on your mind?" Pete asked in a whisper as he was trying to maintain the quiet atmosphere of his Uni dorm.

You. He wants to reply, but it’s more than that.

"Nothing," he smiles, "work stuff, sorry."

Pete smiles, excited. He gets on top of Vegas biting his lower lip, placing his hand on top of his chest, and resting his chin on top of them.

"Porsche is getting back tomorrow from his vacation," he says and his eyes shine so bright it breaks his heart, "we can have dinner with him and his boyfriend at night, what do you think?"

Vegas has been pushing it, trying everything in his power to avoid Porsche and Kinn the moment he started enjoying Pete's company a little too much. He didn’t want it to end, he's been hanging by a thread and he doesn’t know how long it will last when the end seems so near.

"I don’t know, pet." He replies, playing with his hair. "I'm pretty busy lately."

"Oh, c'mon, Grey," he whines and Vegas closes his eyes.

He hates that name. At first, he spitted out when he introduced himself that night in the bar and he's been cursed with it since then. It's the name Pete knows, it's the name he calls and moans, it's the name of the man he loves and Vegas hates.

"It's been eight months already," he pouts, "he’s starting to think I'm faking this whole 'boyfriend' thing since you don’t have any social media and you won’t let me take a picture with you." He pouts and Vegas wants to bite his lips off.

Instead, he stares. He brushes dust from his cheeks and enjoys the little smile Pete gives him. He’s too good and too naïve. It was easy to make him fall in love, but it was easier for Vegas to lose himself in him. He became an escape from his father’s expectations and his self-hatred, he made him forget about who he is with gentle touches and dumb jokes.

He would keep his secrets and treasure them deep in his heart, and then he would try to make Vegas laugh because he couldn’t bear seeing him cry. He cried on his lap as he played with his hair and he felt safe. And he knows he doesn’t deserve him, he knows he started a game he is bound to lose and now, there are no more cards to play.

"Do we have to prove it to him?" He replies like he’s been doing for the past few months.

He would do this thing where is questions Pete’s love, making him feel bad so he would drop the subject alone for a couple of weeks before trying again.

"No, but he is my best friend," he frowns and Vegas wants to kiss it away. "I want the most important people in my life to meet each other."

Vegas smirks, trying to change the mood.

"Oh, are we in the same place in your life?" He says as his hand wanders over Pete's skin, gentle touches from his back to the soft skin of his ass.

Pete holds his breathe, "no, I just-"

He cannot finish the sentence because Vegas' lips attack his, the same moment his fingers wander into the crack of his ass and grab, tightly.

Vegas turns them over, Pete's wrapped around his body, whimpering and crying as he scratches Vegas’ back the moment he thrusts into him.

"Grey," he groans and Vegas hits him deeper, faster.

He hates that name, but he loves the man under him.

"He'll be here," Pete says, stealing glances at the door behind him.

They've been waiting for his boyfriend to arrive for 40 minutes. Even when his best friend doesn’t say it, Pete can see it in his eyes. He doesn’t think Grey is coming, but he promised, and Pete trusts him. He has never failed him, yet.

Porsche is sitting with his boyfriend in front of him. They're holding hands over the table in this fancy restaurant and Pete feels a little - very much - alone.

It's incredible how much Porsche's life has changed. He went from having three different jobs only to support his little brother and trying to keep his house, to changing his major to help Kinn in the future because that’s how certain they are about being together for the rest of their lives.

At first, Pete was reluctant. At Kinn, at his friend's life choices and the entire relationship, but after nights of crying and Kinn doing everything in his hands to prove himself to Porsche, Pete started to believe Yok's bar was magical.

That’s where Porsche met Kinn, and where Pete met Grey.

Pete smiles to himself. He didn’t think they had any future. It was just a one-night stand for him, but then he started bumping into Grey everywhere he went like it was destiny.

He made him feel like no one has before. The way he looks at him, the way he talks to him, and the way he touches him. It's like he was handmade only for Pete to enjoy, to please, to love.

"Ugh," Kinn says, looking annoyed. "This can't be real."

Porsche raises an eyebrow and follows with his eyes to the place Kinn is staring now.

"Oh, great," Porsche mumbles, squirming in his seat.

"What happened?" Pete crouches down on the table, whispering to Porsche.

"Nothing, just Kinn's cousin walking in."

Pete has heard of him. The 'pain-in-the-ass' cousin named Vegas. The guy who is always trying to mess with everything Kinn has or does.

Pete starts to turn his back because even when he has heard plenty of stories about him, he has never seen his face and he would be lying if he says he's not curious.

"No, don’t turn!" Porsche whispers, "let's not look at him so he goes to another table."

Pete nods, standing still in his chair until he sees the displeased look on both Kinn’s and Porsche’s faces.

"Great," Kinn says under his breath.

But their expressions change, suddenly dropping at the same time he feels a hand squeezing his shoulder.

He recognizes the touch, damn, he even recognizes the scent behind him, so he wraps his hand around his wrists and turns to look at him. He's dressed in all black, just like the night they met.

"You're here," Pete smiles.

"I promised I'd be here." He says, his eyes never leaving Kinn's.

Pete frowns because, suddenly, something feels off.

"What is this, Vegas?" Kinn asks, laying back on the chair.

"Vegas?" Pete asks, confused, his eyes going from Kinn to Grey, not understanding the situation. "No, P'Kinn, this is Grey, my boyfriend."

He smiles and turns to Porsche. That’s when his heart drops. Porsche is shaking his head, looking at him with pain in his eyes. Pete turns to Grey once again.

"Grey?" He asks, trying to make him look at him, but he doesn’t move, his jaw tightens up and his fingers start to play with his rings.

That’s when he sees it, a ring that looks a lot like Kinn but in silver. Pete can't breathe.

"Grey?" He asks, softly, with his heart on his throat and his fingers wrapped around his arm. "Why are they calling you Vegas?"

"Porsche," Kinn says and he nods, standing up immediately, grabbing Pete's arm.

"Pete, let's go home." He pleads, but Pete is not having it.

"Grey, what is this?" He shakes his arm but he won't flinch. So he licks his lips, letting a trembling sigh out, "Vegas?"

He turns, slowly, tilting his head to the side, looking at Pete.

He freezes, beside him is the same man that kissed every inch of his body just this morning but his eyes are empty, dark, and soulless. Pete feels like he cannot breathe anymore.

So he releases his arm and lets Porsche drag him out of the restaurant. His eyes never leave the man on the table until the elevator’s doors close on them. He blinks a couple of times and now, he is inside a car, his head in Porsche's chest as he whispers 'sorry' and 'we'll fix everything, don’t worry', but he doesn’t worry, even with the tears running down his face, he can’t feel anything.

#vegaspete #vegaspete au #vegaspete fic #vegas pete fanfic #my writing #vegas theerapanyakul #pete saengtham

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year ago

Text

Lost & Found - Chapter Seventeen.

Here's to the weekend, besties! Hope you all have a lovely one :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen

Words - 4,096

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

The men around the table all sat wide eyed after hearing of the proposal offered to them by Rocco Lombardi, his message relayed by EZ. Well, to call it a proposal was a stretch; he’d point blank told them that come their next shipment, there would also be six children to be moved along with it. EZ and Bishop had met him at a hotel up on Lake Tahoe the previous evening, Lombardi turning a week away there with his closest associates into a chance to meet for business.

The business was, needless to say, not something they wanted to entertain. Moving heroin was one thing; trafficking children was something else entirely.

“It seems what Emma brought to us all those months ago was a very real warning. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been hoping that maybe she was wrong, that what happened to her wasn’t about to become something we now have to face, but that was an unrealistic expectation. I see that now.”

A pin could have been heard dropping in templo, the nine men assembled all looking between each other, Guero being the first to speak. “Well, all of you know my opinion before I even speak it, for obvious fucking reasons.”

Angel’s eyes widened. “I think you’re speaking for all of us, bro. I ain’t down with that, trafficking kids. It’s fucked up.”

“Yeah, but do we even have another choice, here?” Hank rumbled, his frown deep set as the unpleasantness of the situation weighed heavily in his chest. “If we refuse, Lombardi wipes us off the fucking map. That’s how it goes with these mobster pricks. He’s got the weight, and he’s got the numbers.”

“He’s right,” Nestor piped up, lifting his chin. “We either have to do something really messed up, or messed up stuff finds its way to us.”

“Not necessarily,” EZ spoke, looking around the table, feeling the same pressure bearing down upon him as every other member of his club. “There has to be a way around it that we’re not thinking of.” That way around it was not immediately forthcoming, the men filing out of the room again, Guero heading out and over to the workshop. The feeling of creeping trepidation that had begun to consume him was abated at the sight that greeted him, Emma sat aboard a CVO Street Glide, rolling the throttle, the engine like thunder as the ground shook. Her face was so delighted, he felt his heartstrings tug.

“I did this! I repaired it, all by myself!” she called over the chug of the engine, carefully manoeuvring the motorcycle backwards to neatly place it opposite the workshop, ready for its owner to come and collect later that afternoon.

His pride was clear, greeting her with affection after she’d secured the bike and climbed off. “My talented baby,” he cooed, kissing her cheek multiple times, tightening his arms around her as she leaned against him. “You sure you still wanna get your learners permit for a car? You look good aboard a motorcycle. Too good, actually. Damn.”

“I might be subject to changing my mind,” she shrugged, Guero pulling her a little closer. She cast her eyes downward, biting her lip at what she could feel pressing hard against her navel. “Seriously? Jesus fucking Christ, the sight of me on a motorcycle did that?”

He snorted softly, moving her long braid and kissing the side of her neck. “It was more the thought of bending you over it.”

“Guero!” Her little exclamation had him in fits, arms sliding to encircle her hips, preventing her from moving.

“Nah, you can’t move yet. Not until I don’t look like I’m impersonating a fucking tepee.” It was her turn for hysterics then, resting her head against his chest, Lee watching them from the workshop, making a fingers down her throat motion, gagging noises included.

“Revoltingly, disgustingly in fuckin’ love, bleugh!” she teased, although her smile was fond. “Go take your break, sunshine. You’ve earned it.”

“Alright, I’ll go in...” she trailed off, arching an eyebrow at her guy. “How long?”

“Hmm, couple of minutes. You being pressed right up against me ain’t helping.”

She lifted her chin, touching her tongue to her cupid’s bow. “Could go visit the bathroom, make use of the tepee situation?”

He groaned, softly butting his forehead against hers a few times. “Can’t. Gilly’s in there with what he’s calling plague of the ass. Translation, he ate some fucking bad tacos.”

It never surprised her, just how often he failed to learn his lesson. “Ewww, I’m so glad I don’t need to pee!”

Somebody else did, though.

“Fuck, Gilly!” Bottles announced a short time later, leaving the bathroom with a sour look on his face. “That smell, it’s a fucking affront to my nose, man.”

“Told you,” the big man shrugged, looking entertained. “It needs leaving for about fifteen to twenty.”

“It needs a biohazard sign spraying onto the damned door!” he continued, his face still pinched in disgust.

Affront. His usage of that word was the spark in Guero’s brain, since it was something he so seldom heard used by the people within his world.

“It’s an affront to god, snatching children from their families.”

While it had been many months since Emma had recited those words to him, by the underboss of the Romano crime family whose name had since escaped him, he’d never forgotten the statement. It was one he’d agreed with so heavily, it had etched itself into his brain.

They had to leave shortly after, Gilly staying behind on account of the fact he was only ever two minutes from shitting his pants at any given moment. For the entire ride up to meet with the Grim Bastards, their allies requiring assistance in a matter, Guero found himself lost in thought. One set of eyes in particular noticed, the guys all taking a load off after their meeting had been concluded, having a few beers at the Grim Bastard’s clubhouse.

“Can’t help but notice you’re kinda far away," EZ spoke, sliding into a seat next to Guero at the bar.

“Nah, I’m here, P,” Guero assured him, lifting his chin. “I just got something on my mind, something I’m wondering over.”

EZ’s forehead creased slightly. “Care to share that?”

He took a moment, trying to order his thoughts. “I don’t even know if it’s possible, trying to guess the motives of a man we don’t know, but Rocco’s underboss, Emma told me specifically how against the whole child trafficking he was. It’s making me wonder just how badly against it he is. She said he went along with it for the sake of not getting shot, but... ahhh.” Shaking his head, he took a big swig from his beer. “I dunno, man.”

EZ began to smile. “So, what you’re saying is that perhaps if Vincent Calabrese didn’t like it, then we might have a way in where negotiating a different deal is concerned?”

“Yeah, but how? Feels impossible.”

“Your girlfriend would know how. I met him last night for the first time, but his demeanour gave nothing away. However, if he confided something like that in her, then he trusted her on some level, might’ve mentioned other things to her, too.” He took a few moments to think about it further, his eyes narrowing as he scratched his chin. “I wonder how content he is, sitting the next rung down from a man who is participating in something he’s so against?” Another pause followed, EZ finishing his beer. “If there’s a chance we can oust Rocco and bring Vincent to the top instead, then we don’t have to either bend to Lombardi’s will or die.”

Guero frowned, turning to EZ as they both stood. “I guess that depends on how loyal he is to his boss.”

“Yeah,” he remarked, grasping his kutte. “Which is why we need to head back to I can ask the younger of the tattooed, blonde bike princesses all about it.”

He felt a little trepidation at that, knowing that while Emma was recovering well, no longer plagued by nightmares or pre-programmed responses to anything that spooked her, her anxiety also levelled out, mentioning the mafia would likely stir things up for her. Then again, they were at an impasse, one which her knowledge truly could help with.

When they arrived, they found the women had finished for the day, sitting inside with Gilly.

“Hey, you firmed up yet, gut rot?” Guero asked, picking up a beer before joining them at their table, EZ following.

Gilly revealed the bottle of Pepto in his grasp. “It takes like pink death, but at least I’m not shitting through the eye of a needle any longer.”

“Emma, I need to talk to you,” EZ began, his words making her stomach flip unpleasantly. “Nothing bad, well, it involves a person from your past. You okay to talk here, or do you wanna go someplace private?”

She swallowed a nervous gulp, her eyes flitting around before landing on his. “Depends on what you want to know.”

“Everything about Vincent Calabrese is what I wanna know.”

Her insides relaxed a little to hear that. If any man had taken pity on her, not treated her as terribly as the rest did, it had been the Romano underboss. She’d never go as far as to call him a nice man, she truly didn’t know him well enough to gauge that, but his refusal to force himself between her legs every time she’d been offered up to him was something she’d never forgotten. “He was the only one with a shred of decency in so much that he never laid a finger on me. The rest were raping sacks of shit, but he never partook.”

Hearing a deep, pissed off mutter followed by a suck of breath over teeth, she thought it was Guero’s anger rising at first, before realising the sound came from her right, not her left. Lee’s hand rested to her wrist, her fingers flexing in grip, letting her know silently how what she’d confided still made a bolt of anger tear through her.

“And you told Guero that he was against the whole child trafficking ring, yes?”

“Correct,” she confirmed, feeling her heart beginning to escalate, Lee suddenly vacating her seat and striding towards the bar. “He said, and I quote, that it was an affront to god. Anything to do with children is a line many of them just will not cross, be it fear of god’s wrath, or what, but he did allude to the fact that not everybody was on board with it. Arguing with Rocco is unheard of in their world, though.”

EZ leaned forward in his seat, his eyes fixed upon hers. It made her feel a little unsteady, her heart continuing to hammer, reaching to rest her hand to Guero’s thigh beneath the table. He immediately covered it with his own, fingers weaving through hers. “And his loyalty to Lombardi?”

She took a moment, putting the pieces together rapidly. “He told you, didn’t he? Tiny consignment has been proposed?” He nodded, Emma continuing. “He’s loyal, mainly out of respect to Carmine, Rocco’s late father and former boss. I think there might have been a little resentment, that Rocco took the reins of the family at just thirty-two years old when he died, meaning Vincent still remained seated beneath another, but he seemed to toe the line. You’re asking because you need an ally on his side of the fence, right? You want to try and seek out an alternative to Rocco’s proposal and hope you can have a voice close to him that might sway that in your favour?”

“Not exactly,” EZ hummed, Lee arriving back with them, carrying with her five shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. The first one was slid to her friend, Emma downing it in one. “I want a way in to know if there’s a weak point in Lombardi’s fence that if pushed against, will cause that fence to break apart.”

She read between the lines. “Jesus fucking Christ, EZ. You actually want to off him, and seek Vincent’s blessing to do so?”

He remained unflinching, other than to sink the tequila proffered forth by Lee. “Do you think that’s possible? Men of power can be swayed by the promise of greater power, after all. If we served as the facilitators of Rocco's sudden vanishing, meaning naturally Calabrese got to rise into the seat I suspect he’s always hankered for, then he gets what he wants, with no more tiny consignment business to endure, and we get a way out of the predicament that means we either cave and move said tiny consignment, or die.”

He paused for a second, gauging her for a reaction. She looked startled, but did not immediately offer forth words that negated the validity of his tentative plan. “Do you have a contact for him?”

She shook her head. “Nope, never needed to call him for anything. The only phone number I remember from that life is Marie’s, and I will die before I endanger my mom by reaching out to her for it, that I can tell you. It was risky enough contacting her once to let her know I was safe. I won’t do it again.”

Her hand clenched hard upon Guero’s, and he could tell instantly that it wasn’t just fear that gripped her. She was getting angry, because she knew, she knew exactly where he was leading.

“Then I need you, Emma. He’s in Lake Tahoe right now at that hotel Bish and I met Lombardi within. I need you to quietly go meet with him.”

Her jaw set. “Oh, so I’m just supposed to travel up there, back into the jaws of the organisation I escaped from ten months ago? Fuck that. As soon as Rocco sees me, he’ll take me back again.”

“Not if you’re careful,” he began, pouring himself another tequila and sinking it, refilling her glass, too. “Disguise yourself, head up there with Guero, find out what room he’s in and go put my offer to him. If I go back there, it’ll rouse suspicion. Has to be someone Lombardi hasn’t seen before.”

"And if he isn't suggestible, I'm a goddamned sitting duck."

"If you don't, then we all are. In fact, we're worse. We're either trafficking kids, ones who won't have the safeguard of Marie Lombardi protecting them like you did, or we're all dead and you're back on Staten Island, this new life of yours obliterated along with the rest of us."

Panic began to flood her, her chest beginning to heave, Guero quick to rest his hand to the back of her neck, squeezing gently. “Breathe, baby. It’s okay.”

“No,” she gulped. “No, it fucking isn’t.”

He knew it wasn’t, too. Unfortunately for Guero, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, wanting to speak up in defence of his girlfriend and say to EZ that it wasn’t that simple for Emma to risk exposing herself like that, but also gently suggest to her that if she could at least try, they might be in with a shot of escaping their dilemma.

“And it won’t be, unless you agree,” EZ added, the thumbscrews tightening. Just because Guero couldn’t speak up against his president, it didn’t mean another at the table felt forced into silence.

“Ezekiel, you’re scaring her. Enough,” Lee spat, her hand once again resting to Emma’s wrist.

He leaned across the table, eyes narrowing. “This doesn’t concern you. Don’t get involved.”

“The fuck, I won’t!” she hissed, Bishop hearing her ire and moving himself over immediately. He did not trust his wife not to leap across the table, and that was the last thing anyone needed. “If you want her to be in any way, shape or fuckin’ form agreeable, then you don’t handle it like this. You don’t make her fuckin’ regress to being that same frightened girl who came in here little under a year ago after fleeing for her life. No way, not on my watch, ain’t happening.”

“This is the gun to her head all over again, bro,” Guero spoke, not able to hold it back. The feeling of Emma trembling against him prompting his words before he’d truly given them consideration. Leaning forward, he spoke quietly into EZ’s ear. “Gimme a moment. There’s a better way than being blunt. She knows what’s at stake, believe me.”

EZ’s face remained under a veil of contemptuous thunder, Guero taking Emma’s hand and pulling her up, walking with her out of the clubhouse. Since more people, other guys from different charters, the usual scattering of bike bunnies too had all shown up, he took her off across to the awning their bikes lined up beneath, leaning back against his and wrapping her in his arms. As soon as she was within the safety of his embrace, she began to cry.

“S’okay, baby. Shhh, it’s alright.”

“But it isn’t, though!” she sobbed, her throat pinching tight, burying her nose against the side of his neck and inhaling his scent for comfort. “I only have one option, and that’s to go and risk everything I’ve worked so hard to run away from. If he sees me, Guero, oh god. I’m done for.”

“Hey, no you’re not.” He reached beneath her chin, making her emerge from her hiding place. “There’s a way we can do this where you get to see the one person there who you know ain’t gonna hurt you, and not be seen by the one who will. Side note, though. The fuck is he taking you from me, nah. A hundred percent not happening.”

She felt a little reassured by that, of course forgetting that her boyfriend would likely take down anyone who attempted to harm her. But it’s what would happen to him in the aftermath that made her worry. He saw the fear in her rising to the surface, her eyes still widened and glassy, kissing her before he continued.

“This is how we do it. One thing EZ suggested that was good is disguising you, because even if Rocco gets a glimpse of you from afar, you won’t fit the mental picture he has of you. Emma to him is a tall, pale blonde. Now, you’re a tall, tanned, tattooed blonde, but stick you in a wig and I dunno, you’re a tall, tanned, tattooed redhead?”

True, her appearance had changed since arriving, her skin now perpetually golden, and her collection of tattoos ever growing. She now also sported two half sleeves along with the large piece that stretched from her sides down across her lower back, one arm dedicated to her love of birds, the other a dryad surrounded by a canopy of leaves, which was in the process of being finished.

Seeing her begin to calm, Guero continued. “Stick some of your big shades on as well and cover your cheek mole up, and he ain’t gonna see it’s you from a glimpse, is he? I’ll go check us in first and then we’ll just head right up to the room, where you don’t have to leave until we know where Vincent is staying. Wanna know why you’re not gonna leave? Because your man here is going be laying some serious pipe in you for as long as we’re there. That’s all it’ll be, room service and a fuck fest. How’s that sound?”

Softness and humour. Yes, her guy certainly knew how to handle her when she was spiralling into fear.

“That sounds great,” she replied, breathing a sigh of relief. She could do that, she guessed, although she knew that even in the lobby, she’d experience the fear flooding her, just in case she came face to face with him. She had no choice, though. Her love and her friends ending up dead and her back in captivity in New York was definitely the scarier option. “How are you gonna find out what room he’s in, though?”

He shrugged, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’ll work something out.”

Just then, shouting became audible from the open clubhouse door, Bishop emerging, carrying Lee over his shoulder.

“What the...” Emma trailed off, Bish scanning the surroundings, changing his course when he saw them and heading over. He didn’t look impressed. Placing her down, they soon found out why.

“I swear to god I’ll...” she began, her husband pointing a stern finger.

“No! Not another fucking word, Eileen Mary.” His stare lingered before he walked back the way he came, Emma turning to Lee.

“What did you do?”

She held up her hand, her knuckles an angry shade of red. “Punched EZ in the face.”

She cringed, Lee flexing her fingers and muttering. “So, that's why you got the full first name and middle name treatment, huh?"

Lee’s eyes widened, the presence of EZ coming hurtling from the clubhouse distracting them as they watched it unfold, Bishop pushing against his chest. “Leave it, mano. C’mon, I don’t agree with her punching you, but you ain’t gonna go after my wife. She might be wrong, but I’ll fucking drop you if you lay a hand on her, president or not.”

“Then she needs to not involve herself in club matters! This ain’t the place for old ladies to be getting up in our fucking business!”

Bishop continued pushing him back. “Yeah? You just asked another to get involved, one who just so happens to be her best friend. C’mon, EZ. You know how protective she is. Cool it.”

Lee wound an arm around Emma’s shoulders, laying a kiss to the side of her head. “Damned fuckin’ straight, you’re my best friend.”

Emma turned, her face stunned. “You punched him for me?”

“Sure did, sunshine.”

Hearing that, Guero reached for her, clasping her face and planting a huge smacker of a kiss on her lips. “Thank you for that, because I kinda wanted to, but couldn’t. Cuz’ there’s the rock, there’s the hard place and then there’s Guero fucking Ortiz, right in the goddamned fucking centre!”

His gesticulating had them chuckling, Guero shaking his head, indicating he’d be back. “Yo, prez! It’s handled, man. Emma and I will go up there, I’ll book us a room right now for a couple of nights.”

EZ began to simmer down immediately, as Guero knew he would, having his wishes complied with. “Just in case of shit going south, take a couple of others with you.”

Bishop shook his head immediately. “Nah, it’ll attract too much attention, a sudden influx of outlaw presence there.” He then looked to his wife before his eyes scanned the rest of the yard. “Gilly! Get over here.”

A plan was swiftly formed, Emma and Guero and Lee and Gilly would attend, for all intents and purposes simply looking like two couples spending a few days away together so as not to rouse suspicion, but also being the help on hand should anything nefarious arise. Bishop couldn’t do it, of course, with Lombardi knowing his face.

After that, apologies were extended, Lee and EZ clearing the air, and the night continuing. Outlaws. While they fought big, they loved bigger, EZ taking a moment to have a private word with Emma, too.

“I want you to know I appreciate you, and I’m sorry. I’m too hot headed, not good at dialling it back when I know my club is in mortal danger, the kind of danger that you know better than anyone. Still, it’s no excuse.” He reached for her then, taking his face in her hands, kissing her forehead. “We’ve both worked too hard for everything we have; I don’t want either of us to lose it.”

She nodded, smiling. For once, she felt nothing but very genuine sincerity coming from him. “Neither do I.” She gently thumbed his eye, EZ laughing a small burst from his nose as he saw her trying not to laugh. “My girl got you good, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” he snorted. “She loves the hell out of you.”

Looking over at Lee, who gave her a wave and a wink, Emma could only agree that the feeling was entirely mutual.

She loved her friends and the life she had carved out for herself with them, and if that meant she had to face the demons of her past in order to continue enjoying it while also keeping those people safe, then she knew what had to be done.

#guero mayans mc #guero mayans mc fanfiction #guero fanfiction #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #guero x ofc #guero smut #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic #mayans mc season 5

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baileys-writing-desk · 1 year ago

Text

In which a dragon gets pink nails

Link paints the old Thunder Dragon’s nails pink.

(spoilers for the end of skyward sword!)

AO3

Months after Link delivered the final blow to Demise, and he and Zelda moved down to the Surface, the hero makes his way to Lanayru Gorge to see his new friend. First he had traveled to the dragon’s current residence north of the desert, to find that Lanayru wasn’t there. He had gone to visit home today.

The Timeshift Stone has been deactivated and taken from the area, leaving a hot, barren landscape, so Lanayru can return. As Link walks up to where the dragon floats, he smiles to himself, thinking of the last time he was here to do the Lightning Round. After fighting eight bosses in quick succession, he now bears the strongest shield of all: the Hylian Shield.

“Link!” Lanayru exclaims in his cheerful, bellowing voice. “Hello there, it’s great to see you again!”

“Mighty Thunder Dragon, I have something special for you today…if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, why not?” The dragon shrugs his shoulders. “Let me see.”

Link reaches into his pouch, summoning the magic to bring out a thick paintbrush and a massive clear bottle filled with Luv’s bright pink polish, which he had used earlier to paint both his and Zelda’s nails. Knowing the size of his next recipient, he gathered more of the material to fill a much larger bottle.

“Hold out your claw for me,” he exclaims.

The dragon’s eyebrow furrows, and he stretches out a front claw, still many feet above Link’s head.

“No, I need to reach it.”

“What is this for…?”

“I’m gonna paint your nails!!” Link beams with delight, holding out his own hand. “Your claws will look just like this.”

“You’re gonna…paint my nails pink?” The Thunder Dragon lets out a hearty laugh. “I’ll do many things for you, but this is ridiculous!”

“Lanayruuuu,” Link whines, “pleeease?”

The dragon sighs with defeat. “….Fine.”

Lanayru floats closer to Link, lowering himself down onto the ground with his left claw sitting on the small round ledge. Link is brought back to his adventure, when the dragon laid in a similar manner while hacking up coughs, glancing at the hero with bleary eyes. He had been ill for so long, that surely he thought it was the end…and before Link intervened, it was. Although it has been over a thousand years for Lanayru, these events are still very recent for the young hero.

The dragon takes the bottle and brush with his other claw, placing each object on the ledge as Link hoists himself up. The hero dips the brush into the bottle and smiles as he begins to apply the first coat, on a pointy nail nearly as large as his body. Zelda had mixed silver sparkles into the polish, Link now realizes, and he chuckles slightly.

“Looks like your nails are gonna be sparkly!”

The Thunder Dragon groans, closing his eyes and letting Link continue without protest. It seems, however, that Lanayru isn’t too pleased with having pink sparkly nails. But since the two have become good friends now, they each often give in to the other’s demands reluctantly.

Link applies the paint across each of the dragon’s nails, for what seems like forever…until at last the coat is finished on one claw. The bright sparkles gleam in the sunlight, nearly an exact match to the hero’s own nails. This coat shows up well, to his relief, since there wouldn’t be enough polish left for another. He has already used so much.

“Okay Grandpa, give me your other claw,” he demands. “Blow on this one gently to help it dry quicker.”

“I’m really not that old.” Lanayru rolls his eyes teasingly, obeying Link’s request. Soon the other, non-pink front claw is on the ledge. “I’ve already got Faron and Eldin making fun of my age ‘cause I’m the oldest.”

Link begins painting on the second claw, grinning. “I’m not saying your age is a bad thing. Just that you’re like the grandfather I never had. It’s a compliment!”

“If you say so.” Lanayru laughs once again as he gently blows on the other claw, being careful not to touch it to his fluffy white beard.

While Link works, he quietly hums the Song of the Hero to himself, the song the dragons had taught him, and the song that led him to the Triforce. The back of his left hand now glows with the three golden triangles, even long after the defeat of Demise.

The Thunder Dragon’s eyes light up as he hears the soft tune. “Hey…that’s my song.”

“You bet it is. That’s why I saved you, old man!”

“Ah, right.” Lanayru’s booming voice turns somber. “You only saved me because of that song…you needed it. I would certainly have been left for dead otherwise.”

“Lanayru!” Link scolds, but then considers his own words. “I’m sorry…that was bad wording on my part. Sure, I needed the song, but I would have saved you even if I didn’t. That’s what heroes do, you know.” He pauses, taking a breath as he continues painting. “And that’s why I always come to see you, to keep you company, because I know you get lonely out here by yourself.”

“…I do.” Lanayru sighs. “That’s why I left this place. But sometimes I need to come back. Lanayru Province is my home, even…” He waves a pink-nailed claw at the desert around them. “Even like this.”

“You know, if I could bring your land back, I would.” Link explains. “Not just by going into the past with Timeshift Stones…I would return everything to how it was before, for good, so you could be happy again.”

“There is no need. This was bound to happen, Link, and nothing I could do would revive this place. Believe me, I tried, but…I couldn’t. Instead I left. There is nothing here for me to protect anymore. I was able to relocate most of the robots to save them, but some had already rusted…the facility is filled with sand and monsters, the sea is all dried up, everything that made this place great is…gone.” Lanayru holds up his newly painted claw again, the pain clear in his eyes, gaze distant. The mighty Thunder Dragon never cries, but this must be his equivalent. “You know this, hero. There is nothing you can do.”

“I’m so sorry,” Link mutters. “I shouldn’t have brought that up…I won’t from now on, ok?”

Lanayru remains silent, barely speaking a word as Link continues to paint, and the hero’s heart sinks in his chest. Why did you do that? He ponders over all the baggage the Thunder Dragon must carry on his shoulders, to watch the fall of the great Lanayru Province he was tasked to protect…

He apologizes again, but the dragon simply sighs. It seems he needs a minute to process his thoughts. Finally, Link uses the last bit of polish to completely cover the nail, and sets the brush down with a slightly sore arm.

“Here, your nails are finished.”

Lanayru’s gaze returns to the hero’s, eyes slowly lighting back up. “You’re done?”

“I am. Now do the same thing as the first one, blow on it. Just don’t pick at them, and it should last a little while.”

Lifting his claw up, the dragon slowly floats through the air to his original position, his large form towering over Link.

“You know, this looks pretty good.” He chuckles as he studies his nails. “Thank you.”

“See, I knew you would come around to it!”

“Link, I have an idea…” Lanayru hums in thought. “Let’s get out of this place. I wanna take you somewhere.”

…

Lake Floria is calm and quiet this afternoon, with the Water Dragon outside of her hall to bask in the fresh air. She dives under the water, circling around her small jellyfish friends, before resurfacing, splashing water across the lake with a chuckle.

The waterfall that she’d opened for Link, leading to the Ancient Cistern, is once again pouring in front of the dungeon, preventing anyone from passing through. Link has long ago obtained Farore’s sacred flame, and upon receiving the news that the young hero had defeated Demise and completed his adventure, Faron had closed it back up. There is no need for anyone to enter now.

Along with the noises of the waterfall and the splashing of the lake, the dragon almost misses the hearty laugh from up above. But the noise causes her to look up, only to see Lanayru the Thunder Dragon, flying down toward her.

Ugh. What does he want?

As the other dragon approaches, Faron notices something small and green on his shoulder, and realizes it’s a person. Link. The chosen hero. It has been quite a while since she and Link crossed paths, perhaps because her attitude towards him had driven him away.

“Howdy, Faron!” Lanayru bellows, dipping his lower body into the water to face her. “Look what Link did for me.”

He extends his front claws out for her, keeping them above the surface, and she gasps in surprise.

“Your nails…they’re pink!”

“Do you like ‘em?” Lanayru and Link both giggle, and she can’t help but scowl in response.

“I can’t believe you let him do that, Lanayru.”

“Come on, it’s a lot of fun!” The Thunder Dragon exclaims. “And if you’d like, Link can do the same to yours. Then we can match!”

Faron huffs, folding her scaly arms across her chest and rolling her eyes.

“Let’s get something straight.” She glares at the hero, still on Lanayru’s shoulder. “If you paint my nails PINK, you’re dinner!”

#bailey writes #skyward sword link #(my babyyyy)#lanayru the thunder dragon #faron the water dragon #a little bit of talk about lanayru desert #otherwise it’s fluff #…yeah 👍#luv is the woman who makes potions #it would make sense for her to make nail polish with all those ingredients lol #also i don’t usually write for sksw but this was fun i should mayhaps do more!

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fanficsfreeideas · 3 months ago

Text

fall from grace

Chapter 13

Lucifer cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His eyes flickered with hesitation and his voice carried a heavy weight as he began to speak. His elegant hand clenched slightly on the armrest, betraying the burden he carried. "There's... one more thing," he said, his gravelly voice filled with unease. He glanced away, as though the words themselves were venomous. "Adam's body... it's not like normal sinners'. It's... different."

Charlie's golden eyes widened in astonishment and confusion as she processed this information. Lucifer exhaled heavily, his shoulders slumping under the weight of what he was about to reveal next.

"I believe it's his punishment," he said slowly, bitterness lacing his words, "for the lives of sinners he's taken. Lives that Heaven forced him to take. A cruel twist of irony, don't you think?"

Charlie remained silent, her mind reeling from this revelation. Lucifer's thoughts grew darker as he prepared to broach an even more troubling subject. He knew it was time to tell her and the others about Alastor and Adam. But how? Would Charlie believe him if he told it like a fairytale?

Clearing his throat once more, Lucifer put on a forced smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Charlie, you won't believe what I saw," he began cryptically, leaning forward as though sharing a secret. "It was like something out of those stories I used to read to you."

Curiosity sparked in Charlie's eyes as she tilted her head towards him. "What do you mean?"

Lucifer clasped his hands together and leaned in closer conspiratorially. "When Alastor first laid eyes on Adam, he was smitten. And somehow, it was mutual." He couldn't help but feel disgusted by this fact. "Adam found solace in Alastor."

A soft smile tugged at Charlie's lips as she gasped in delight. "Really? Alastor?"

Lucifer's stomach twisted at her innocent joy, but he pushed forward, forcing himself to continue the charade with an exaggerated grin. "Oh yes," he said, rolling his eyes for effect. "Alastor said something ridiculous... something like 'Don't worry, my sweet doe. You did nothing wrong. I am your buck, your Eden. And you - my everything.' Stuff like that."

Charlie's giggle was like a dagger in Lucifer's heart. He loathed Alastor and this twisted portrayal of love was almost too much for him to bear. But he swallowed his bitterness and spun a nauseating tale of love for her sake.

"They're fated, Charlie," he continued, feeling bile rise in his throat. "Adam is the only doe and Alastor is the only buck. Can you believe it? A love story like none other in hell."

"That's beautiful," Charlie breathed, her eyes sparkling with wonder.

Lucifer forced a dry chuckle, bitterness creeping closer to the surface. “Yes, well… they’re probably getting to know each other better right now,” he said through gritted teeth. “Who knows, they might even…” He choked on the words but forced them out. “Start making a fawn soon. We may have fawns in eight to nine months.”

A flush of delight spread across Charlie’s face, and she clasped her hands over her chest in excitement. “That’s wonderful, Dad!” She was so overwhelmed by the love story that she completely missed the implication of there being fawns on the way.

Lucifer’s smile tightened as he tried to suppress his hatred for the situation. It wasn’t wonderful—it was grotesque. He could see the glint of Alastor’s shadows lingering in the corner of the room, gloating. That smug bastard.

“What did you say, Dad?” Charlie asked, not catching what Lucifer had muttered under his breath.

“I only said it’s amazing, Charlie,” Lucifer lied, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. “Truly a love story for the ages.”

His daughter’s joy was pure and radiant, completely oblivious to the venom seething within him. Lucifer forced himself to play the role of a storyteller, even though it made his stomach churn. No matter how much he despised the tale, he had to tell.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin charlie #alastorshippermonth

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free-for-all-fics · 5 months ago

Note

i am but a humble yapper in your inbox since i’ve got thoughts™️ about hollenius and christine as parents.

pretending that karel never happened (or maybe he does but christine isn’t with him) in this scenario. i’m a firm believer in the fact that they probably did not ever want to be parents in the first place since they’re too focused on careers and stuff. maybe, maybe they wanted a lasting legacy or something but alex is completely unforgettable as an artist either way in his mind. ig they both got busy or just never had the thought in their heads. tbh, they give that one childless couple at family gatherings and they proudly flaunt the fact that they use their money on trips and each other instead of a noisy brat.

now, my brain won’t shut up on the fact that christine would absolutely babytrap alex. what better way to tie the man to her than with his living breathing duplicate? or even worse, a mini-christine?

Their (1) daughter was an accident. not saying they’re bad like fanny skeffington bad just…they have a kid and they literally don’t know what to do with it 😭 like, they bring it home from the hospital and just…stare at it.

you mentioned this before but alex is a girl dad, no questions asked. his daughter will be decked out in bows and gems and have like a million teddy bears in her crib.

now, i either imagine their baby being as big of a drama queen as alex or the baby never talks, like ever. christine doesn’t even feel any kicks until alex insults her for getting fat around the eighth month or whatever. then, she’s like “oh, yeah, by the way-“

maybe the first time she cries, alex is like “why is she screaming in the key of a” and christine is like “since you act like a baby, why don’t you look after her”

firm believer that this man is in constant disbelief that his fucking around actually DID something. like yes he loves his precious angel girl but whoa. there’s consequences? for HIS actions?

probably more of an alex effort but i could see christine getting in on this too but music lessons start from even before birth. he’ll be banging on his piano to ensure he’s gonna get a prodigy when the baby comes. as soon as she can grasp keys, that sucker’s gonna sit on mama and daddy’s lap to play the appasionata.

i’m probably just yapping on here but your writing is so good and it inspires me sm. any thoughts about the hollenius family? 🎶🎹🤍

He’d want to recreate Mozart’s education and upbringing to an extent with his daughter. He’d be their daughter’s teacher and by age four or five she’d be writing her first compositions and by age eight she’d write her first symphony. Your upbringing is like how Adam Lemp raised his daughters, but not as relaxed or casual. Even before you were in diapers, it was Beethoven playing for pregnant Christine to go to sleep and Rachmaninoff during the day. The Pavlov conditioning started earlyyyyy with you.

Also because Hollenius is a little shit throughout the entire movie and is deathly allergic to talking like a normal person or give direct/straight answers to Christine’s questions, I just have this feeling like he’d make her go crazy with doubting the paternity of her child if Novak was still romantically involved with her. Alex would be like “Hmmm. The child is musically gifted like her father. She must have good genetics from him.” Just casual remarks to make Novak and her doubt the paternity but rubbing it in when they don’t have the guts to take a paternity test because they dread the answer. (If paternity tests were even a thing back then idk)

“Oh honestly, stop being so dramatic!”

“I wonder where she gets that.” In a sarcastic tone.

I feel like Alex with a biological child could go one of two ways: Either he wants the child to live up to his legacy, or he wants to make absolutely sure his legacy is never surpassed, not even by his own child. Because he has major ego issues. Like his child will be a musical genius at the same level as him, but never be too talented to the point where Alex becomes overshadowed by his own offspring. He’s the original Hollenius. And it’s often said the original is the best.

This man would never ever ever want to become a grandfather because he feels like that carries connotations that he’s old. He’s TIMELESS not old! If his daughter said she was pregnant he’d be like “you’re pregnant? With a child? Ohhhhh! Ohhhhh!”insert sarcastic clapping. “You’re- you’re keeping it? Okay. There are options now. There are options. Options your mother didn’t have at your age that you now have. Okay. Wow. I’m a grandfather. That is so— oooh. It is hot in here. I’m gonna use the restroom. I have to vomit. Not because of the news! Christine, bring the car around. Okay! I- excuse me - okay! Can they call me Uncle Alex instead of grandpa?” Kinda like that. 😅

#anonymous asks #anonymous #thank you nonnie #nonnie <3 #i appreciate you

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uzumaki-rebellion · 2 months ago

Text

Lick Back 2 (Part 1) by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Angst, Domestic Drama, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Violence, AITA!Terry Richmond.

Word count: 18.6K

Read Lick Back (The Beginning) HERE.

youtube

"Like sweet morning dew

I took one look at you

And it was plain to see

You were my destiny

With you I'll spend my time

I'll dedicate my life

I'll sacrifice for you

Dedicate my life for you"

Method Man & Mary J. Blige—"All I Need"

Terry Richmond couldn't stop looking at the eight by eleven color photo he recieved in the mail.

Terrina Richmond.

He had a daughter. A two-month-old baby girl.

The big bosses denied his request. They wanted his skills building up their elite soldiers in Oceanside. Make more war machines. Oorah.

Terry cancelled his flight.

Four.

That was his baby girl.

"My baby girl will never have that problem," he muttered, heading onto the freeway again.

Bethany gave a long sigh. He waited for a shrill tone to rip his ear apart.

"Terry, I have to be honest with you. Nova called and told me everything a month ago."

"She what? A month ago?"

"I'm glad she has you," he finally said after a long pause.

"You should be glad to have me, too. I should kick your butt, though."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything about her…and me."

"Didn't have to. I already knew something was up. I just hoped you two would've ended it quietly without all this blowback. You make a pretty baby, though. She looks just like you and your mom."

"I want to marry her."

"Get her out of Charleston first. Text me when you get there."

"Does Von know?"

"No. This is something he needs to hear from you when you get back."

"Thank you for being there…for the both of us."

"You have a darling little two-month-old who needs her daddy. Drive safe, Terry. Love you."

Terry sat in the truck, feeling better. Bethany didn't hate him. He texted Nova despite the late hour in her time-zone.

He started the truck and drove closer to his love.

I'M HERE.

He put on a stoic expression to face Nova's male relatives. They probably weren't thrilled to see him approaching the house.

"Terry!" she cried out.

A bunch of women exited the house to watch them.

"Told you…told you I would come the moment you needed me," he said.

She nodded, and they pressed their foreheads together.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

She burst into tears. He rocked her in his arms, saying her name over and over.

"Are the babies inside?" he asked.

"Van-Van is with Jordan for the weekend. Terrina is inside with my mother and grandmother."

Nova wiped her wet face and puffy eyes.

"Ready to meet your daughter?"

He laughed out loud, and then bit down on his tongue gently to keep himself from leaking more water out of his eyes. He wiped his face and glanced at the welcoming committee on the porch.

"Mawmaw cooked a big Sunday breakfast and invited the family over to see you," she said.

"See me, or beat my ass?" he joked.

Nova's eyes welled up. He stroked her arms.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Bethany told me you're having it rough here. I gotta take that weight off of you. I'm the one who got you pregnant…I'm the one who'll fix all of this, too."

He kissed her forehead. She kept her cute pixie cut and fixed her baby hairs to look like curling ocean waves. He rubbed her back. She rested her head on his chest, unable to look at him.

She wept. He soothed her as best as he could.

"Just think about us…okay? Hold on to us and I promise, Nova…things are going to get better."

"Okay."

"Everyone, this is Terry…Terry Richmond. Terrina's father."

"We can see dat. Can't miss his chirren at all."

The other relatives tittered under their breath. An older woman in her eighties pushed a walker and Nova's family parted to give her room so her eyes could inspect Terry up and down. She had slightly wrinkled, dark pecan-brown skin and gray hair clipped short. Mariam Walker…Mawmaw.

"I see una have no shame coming here after putting a baby in her the wrong way."

"Mawmaw," Nova whispered.

"Ma'am, I'm not here to upset you. I want to meet my daughter and be with Nova."

"Be with Nova?"

Mawmaw sucked her teeth and pointed at Nova with an accusatory finger.

"Look ya. Dat is a married 'ooman. You a comeya, messing up the peace of dis family."

"Ma'am, I don't mean any disrespect—"

"Tie yuh mout!" Mawmaw shrieked.

A female relative stepped forward.

Nella walked toward the screen and opened it for Terry. She was forty-ish, heavyset, and a shade darker than Nova, but had the same sparkling brown eyes.

"I have some things in the truck to bring in," Terry said.

"Go get 'em, then," Nella said with a warm smile.

"This is for you, ma'am…Mawmaw," he said.

Mawmaw looked at the big box of expensive Godiva chocolate shells, and her eyes widened; surprised that he was giving her something.

"He tryna butter her up," one of the older men snickered.

Nella waved for him to keep moving.

"Tote all that in here, Terry, c'mon now. Can't let these no-see-ums in the house."

Terry glanced at Nova.

"Mosquitos. The ones here will eat you up and you won't even see them," Nova said.

He grinned hard enough to show his gums.

"They've been eating me up since I got here."

Three women Mawmaw's age sat on a couch wearing their good Sunday wigs. They scrutinized everything on him. Somewhere out back, the excited voices of children playing added a comforting noise.

Nova took the bag of clothes from him and set them on an empty chair.

"Hello…I'm Terry, pleased to see everyone," he said.

Mawmaw shuffled in with her walker and Nella helped her sit down on an old rocking chair.

"Dis him," Mawmaw said to the ladies on the couch.

A baby's cry interrupted the family showdown.

Mawmaw's eyes immediately softened, and she tried to stand up too fast, almost losing her balance.

"My great-grandbaby is calling for me," Mawmaw said, or at least that's what Terry made out.

The shrill cry shattered the peace again, and Terry felt a lump grow in his throat. He imprinted that sound to memory. That was his daughter. His first time hearing her.

Nella gently pushed Mawmaw back in her seat.

"Bring ha," Mawmaw said.

"Mawmaw…Terry needs to see his baby. He come three thousand miles. Man is probably tired and hungry rushing here. Let him have his time alone with Terrina," Nella said.

Nova placed her flowers on an end table near one of the older adult men sitting in the room and grabbed Terry's hand.

"Come…she's back here," Nova said.

Her eyes were shiny with pride and love.

Pauletta, Nova's mother, sat on a worn pistachio green armchair.

"Nova, she's not wet or anything. She might be ready to eat again—"

She fell silent, spotting Terry standing behind Nova. He sensed a wariness in her eyes, but she only pressed her lips together. Terry looked down at Pauletta's lap. Air rushed out of his chest instantly.

Terrina.

So tiny. So chubby. So adorable. So his twin.

He let out a shaky breath. Pauletta noticed the tears in his eyes. Her demeanor changed immediately. Nova lifted their daughter up and brought her closer to him. Terrina's cheeks held a few dewdrop tears that looked like tiny crystal jewels to him.

"Hey Terrina…meet your daddy," Nova said.

"Sit down," Pauletta said, leaving the armchair available to him. She left him alone with Nova and the baby.

Terry sat down with a heavy body, and Nova placed his daughter in his arms. Terrina squirmed and made little mewling sounds. Her eyes tried to focus on the enormous face staring down at her. She scrunched her cheeks and eyes up then let out a few "Neh…neh…neh" cries, threatening to bawl loud and long. With tiny clenched fists waving about, her cheeks soon turned a ruddy brown complexion, filled with distressed baby emotion.

"Heh…heh…heh…neh," she said.

She lined her green eyes with his, and Terry said her name for the first time to her face.

"Hello Terrina, daddy's here. I made it. Baby girl…I'm here," he said.

The deepness of his voice quieted Terrina's discomfort. She latched onto his face with teary eyes and studied him like she had to take a test the next day. He touched her thin blue t-shirt with little white ducks on them and looked over the matching bottoms that covered her diaper. Her hands relaxed, and he touched each finger, admired every little toe. He stroked her ears that stuck out like his, and he sniffed her dark brown curls that looked so full all over her scalp. She had Nova's heart-shaped face and plump cupid-bow lips, but everything else on that baby was him.

"Nova…thank you," he said.

He squeezed his eyes shut and made a vow. No one would ever shame Nova for having Terrina. People could keep it in the groupchat about the adulterous affair. Their baby came to them beyond the depths of pain and confusion. Love created her. Nothing more, nothing less.

He heard the murmurings and loud chatter out front. English and Gullah-laced conversations rambled on, but Terry was in a love bubble with Terrina and Nova. Terrina started fretting and moving her limbs about.

"Sit on the bed, Terry. I need to feed her."

He stood and gave up the chair for Nova, then handed her the baby. Nova slid the top of her wrap dress aside and pulled down the flap on her dark blue maternity bra that revealed a heavy breast. Terrina's little body started bouncing with anticipation. She stuck out her tongue and made sucking motions.

"Yes, mommy is going to feed you now," Nova said in a singsong voice.

His heart melted when he witnessed Terrina's slobbery smile for the first time in person. She latched onto the nipple and her chunky cheeks puffed in and out as she fed. Nova rubbed her hair and Terrina stared at her mother with peace in her eyes. Her little feet kicked up, and he touched her toes again.

"I can't believe we made her," he said.

"We did."

Terrina actively sucked away, keeping her little green eyes on Nova's face. Occasionally, her eyes wandered to look at him, still trying to figure out who the unknown man in the room was. Eventually, she released the one nipple from her small mouth and Nova offered her the other one.

"She feeds from each breast…you can tell when she's ready to switch by the way she bounces and slows down on sucking," Nova told him.

Terry kissed Nova on the cheek. He observed it all with wonderment.

"I have a breast pump, so you'll be helping with this," she teased.

"I'm ready," he said.

A creaking sound on a floorboard caught their attention. Mawmaw pushed her walker near the doorway.

"Oonah stomach in ya back?" Mawmaw asked him.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Terry asked.

Nova giggled. Mawmaw looked at her.

"Axum fuh me," Mawmaw said.

Nova smiled at Terry.

"Are you hungry? We've got plenty of leftovers."

His stomach growled and for the first time, Mawmaw grinned at him.

"Wolf in his belly. C'mon…fixin' ya plate…"

Mawmaw turned around and shuffled off.

"Go get something to eat. We'll be right here waiting for you," Nova said.

He lowered his head and kissed her firmly on the lips. She parted her lips, and he sought the familiar taste of her tongue to remind himself that she belonged to him. Terrina swatted a chubby finger on his cheek and he kissed her small hand and forehead. Baby powder and Johnson's baby lotion scents wafted into his nose. He wanted to stay but his stomach snitched on him again. Starving.

Terry followed Mawmaw as she rolled her walker past a small dining room into her kitchen. A stove full of big pots and pans caught his eyes, as well as a kitchen table displaying the remains of leftover homemade biscuits, white gravy, link sausages, fried potatoes, and scrambled eggs. Mawmaw pointed to an empty chair at the far end of the table near the window. A dark-skinned woman in her fifties with short red-dyed locs sat across from him, finishing up a plate of food.

"How you doing? I'm Terry."

"I'm doing well this Sunday. I'm Brielle."

Brielle broke apart a biscuit and smothered it in gravy.

"You drove here, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thirty-seven hours with two catnaps."

"My goodness. By yourself?"

"Yes."

Mawmaw lifted a plate on the counter and scooped out a healthy serving of yellow grits and covered it in shrimp and gravy.

"You have shrimp and grits before?" Brielle asked.

"My mama makes it."

"Where you from?"

"Cypress Bend, Louisiana."

"That's where you drove from?"

"I came from California…I can get that," he said.

He stood and took the plate and a fork from Mawmaw so she wouldn't have to struggle to move around. She turned and sat on the small seat connected to her walker. He closed his eyes and prayed over his food and when he opened them back up, Mawmaw seemed pleased by the act.

"Una go to church, young man?" Mawmaw asked.

"Not as much as I should. I used to sing in the choir at my church back home. I was raised Baptist."

Mawmaw nodded.

"What oonah parents think 'bout whatchu did?" Mawmaw asked.

"Mawmaw, let him eat his food," Brielle said.

"My house, I talk when I want."

Pauletta popped in and went directly to Mawmaw.

"Mawmaw, Mrs. Tinely is outside. She brought you some of her collards."

Mawmaw, stood and turned her walker toward the front room. Pauletta followed behind her. Terry dug into the food. It was still warm and savory. The grits were creamy with butter, and the gravy was packed with salty bacon and onion bits. Garlic and bell peppers rounded out the flavor, and he smacked his lips.

"This is a good roux. Nice and thick," he said.

Brielle wiped crumbs from her bottom lip with a napkin.

"Listen to me good, Terry. This family has been in an uproar about this situation with you and Nova. We love Terrina…she's blood and she ain't did nothing wrong coming into the world. I think what you did is wrong, but I understand how things can happen. Shit, we dragged Jordan by his edges, too and it caused a rift between our two families. Mawmaw won't even let him come inside the house anymore. I hope your intentions being here are good for Nova's sake…and my grand-niece."

"They are. I love, Nova."

"Jordan said he loved her, too. Words don't mean nothin' to me. We got two babies who need fathering. If you mean well, all ya gotta do is show us, and you'll be alright young man."

Terry kept eating. Brielle's tone didn't sound adversarial. It was forthright. He acted the same way.

"Who called Nova a whore?"

Brielle blinked twice, and her lips moved slightly to the right of her face.

"Uncle Pete is old school. A deacon in the church. Old people don't mince words."

"I don't either."

She grinned.

"Okay now, that's real good. Don't back down from the naysayers. However, if the Patterson family find out you're here, things might get outta hand. None of them wanna see you 'round these parts."

Terry piled a few sausages on his plate with a biscuit.

"Nobody can run me off from my baby or Nova. I'm taking her with me when I leave. Her and the children."

"Say what now?"

"I didn't come this far to visit and leave by myself. I'm taking my family with me."

"She's not even divorced yet."

"Does she have full custody of Van-Van?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then she can leave…freely."

"You can't take them kids away from Mawmaw. It'll break her heart."

"Nova doesn't want to be here. She's not happy. Who would be, though? Being called names by her family members and looked down on like she's wearing a scarlet letter 'A' on her chest."

Brielle stood and touched his arm.

"It's not everybody, mainly the older ones. Show them who you are and things will smooth over. You already doin' better than Jordan."

"How's that?"

"Mawmaw let you in the house."

Brielle winked her eye and cleared her dishes.

He ate his food in silence. A bunch of children ran into the kitchen from the back door. Three boys and two girls, all around eight to twelve-years-old.

"Who are you?" the oldest girl asked.

"Terry," he said.

The girl stared at his eyes.

"You got eyes like, Terrina."

"I'm her father."

"How you her father when Auntie Nova is married to Uncle Jordan?"

Terry chewed his last piece of sausage and cleaned up his plate in the sink. He left the children staring at his back.

The adults gossiped in the front room and out on the porch. He slipped past them and searched for a restroom. After relieving himself, he stared at his reflection.

"Relax…relax…"

He splashed cool water on his face and used a paper towel on the sink to wipe the excess liquid away. His lips curled into a smile, noticing the fancy hand towels on the rack behind him. Mawmaw didn't want anyone touching her nice pink hand towels. Paper towels for everyone. Just like his mama back home.

Before he went back to Nova and Terrina, he wanted to speak to Uncle Pete.

He followed a plastic runner on the floor that led him back to the front room. The elders watched him open the screen and step outside. Mawmaw sat on her walker, talking to a middle-aged fair-skinned Black woman, Mrs. Tinely, in a corner of the porch. Nella perked up when she noticed him.

"Which one of these men out here is Uncle Pete?" Terry asked.

Nella turned her head to show him, but the older man stepped forward. Pete looked to be in his mid-sixties, with a paunchy belly and umber skin. His receding hairline added a few years to his appearance, and the dull brown church slacks and tan button-up shirt screamed conservative and cheap.

"I'm Uncle Pete," the man boomed with a voice almost as deep as Terry's.

"May I speak to you, sir, in private?"

Nella gave Pete a look, and the older man glanced around to see if anyone heard Terry. They did. He followed Pete down the steps with several sets of curious eyes tracking them from the porch. The two men stepped to the right side of the stairs that led to a driveway with part of the house acting as a carport covering. Blue glass bottles decorated a small tree at the edge of the property. Sunlight struck a few of the bottles, creating streaks of blue diffuse refection against the side of the house. He recognized the tradition that was done in Louisiana, too. Used for protection and to ward off evil, his daddy called them spirit bottles. His grandmother in Yazoo, Mississippi had one. The blue color was meant to imitate water and thwart troublesome entities from bothering the home since they couldn't cross over running water. The bottles were supposed to trap them if they dared to trick their way near.

Pete folded his arms across his chest.

"What do you want to speak with me about?"

"I heard that you called Nova a whore because she gave birth to my daughter."

Pete tilted his head and spoke boldly.

"Do not prostitute thy daughter, to cause her to be a whore…lest the land fall to whoredom, and the land become full of wickedness."

Terry stepped closer to Pete, lowering his head so he could look the man directly in the eyes.

"Respectfully, sir, no man, especially a man of God, should disrespect his niece by calling her a whore."

"Tell him!" Nella said.

"Nella!"

Mawmaw's voice echoed loud above them.

Pete looked past Terry. Nella stared down at them with Mawmaw, Brielle and the other men present. Sweat traced several paths on Pete's face from the rising temperature and the sun hanging directly overhead. A glint of blue bottle reflection speckled his cheek.

"Men are talking," Mawmaw said.

"Talk to him, Terry," Nella urged.

"Any anger, disappointment, or harsh words you want to speak…you say them to me. Not her. Jordan broke his vows to her in California first several times over. He'd been doing so even before she came out there. Nova tried her best to be a good wife to him, but he neglected her. Could I have inserted myself into her life properly by waiting for her to divorce? Sure… but I didn't, and that's on me."

"I won't stand here and have a snake in the Lord's garden justify his actions leading Nova astray. Her sin and your sin ended a marriage that had been in the making for years. You put asunder two large families, not just two individuals, son."

"I don't need to justify my actions to you. She and I have a beautiful daughter together that I want to support. I plan on taking responsibility for both of them. I'm asking you to stop insulting her because I won't tolerate it."

"You created a broken home, young man. Do ya think coming here absolves you of that? We don't know you. We don't know your people. Had you not interfered, she and Jordan could've weathered the storm with more counseling and time to heal."

Terry placed his hands together in front of Pete.

"Let me make this clear to you, …sir…Nova suffered mental, and emotional abuse with Jordan's infidelity. Physical abuse too, if you count the potential sexually transmitted diseases he could've brought home to her. He screwed so many women that they were sending him care packages overseas while he had a wife and child at home waiting on him. Nova is done with him. Sorry to his family, but I plan on making a new family with her the moment her divorce goes through. Jordan broke his family…not me."

Terry's voice rose loud enough to concern Nova's people. Pauletta lowered her head. Hearing the full extent of her son-in-law's behavior must've shocked her. A few of the younger men walked down the steps to watch them closer. Nella came down too, with Brielle.

"Jordan ripped her heart out and I'm putting it back in… and protecting it from now on. Please save your words about whores and wickedness for him, not Nova."

"She never should've had a child out of wedlock with someone who isn't her husband!"

Nella stepped forward and waved her hands.

"Now…now Uncle Pete…let's not go there. You the last person who should be talking about having kids out of wedlock with all the outside kids you have running around here."

She put a hand on her hip.

"It's always the folks who live in their self-righteous glass houses that wanna throw stones. Be the first ones ready to judge people like they shit don't stink. It's time we all mind our business and let Nova live her life without a bunch of hypocrites wagging they finger. Maybe you need to call Aunt Evelyn and ask her how it felt to be married to you back in the day with all your cheatin' and carrying on."

"I'm a saved man walking with Christ now!"

Pete threw up his hands in disgust and stomped down the street. Nella catcalled him.

"Yeah, kitchen got hot and ya gotta leave with Christ, huh, Uncle Pete? Don't like it when a mirror is put up to your face, huh?"

Pete climbed into a red Escalade and drove off. Brielle rolled her eyes and glanced at Nella.

"Watch him call Mawmaw whining about this later," Brielle said.

"You know he will," Nella said.

Terry walked past the younger men who avoided eye contact with him. He climbed the stairs and looked at the rest of the family on the porch.

"Excuse me," he said.

He grit his teeth and fought the urge to check every single person there. Nova's mother stayed next to Mawmaw. He swept back into the house and picked up Nova's flowers and his daughter's bag of new clothes. Even the children moved out of his way as they sat on the floor watching a cartoon in front of an older model big screen TV.

His long legs carried him to the back bedroom.

Nova held Terrina by the open window where a crib stood. She heard everything through the screen. He placed the bag on the bed and put the flowers on a nightstand.

"Food was good," he said.

She nodded and kissed Terrina's forehead. He moved over to her and wrapped his arms around them both. Looking down at his daughter, he noticed her cheeks puffing out. Nova caught the strained expression on her face, too, and sniffed the air.

"Uh oh, someone's gone stink-stink," Nova said.

She handed him Terrina and dug into a diaper bag under the crib. She grabbed a towel on a dresser and spread it on the double bed. Gesturing for him to bring the baby, she stepped back.

"Time for your first diaper changing session," Nova said.

Oh, Lord.

Terry held Terrina for the longest time until his eyes drooped. His road trip caught up to him and he slept on the bed while Nova fed their daughter once more.

The colors of the sky had changed from powder blue to blue-black when he woke up. The temperature was slightly cooler, yet still muggy. Nova was no longer in the bedroom with him. He heard her voice speaking softly in another room.

Terrina slumbered peacefully in her crib.

Terry stared at her for a long time. His mama and dad would faint with joy, knowing they were finally grandparents. He itched to call them, but decided he would bring Terrina to them as a surprise Christmas gift. They longed for grandchildren out of their three children. But his oldest sister married her husband and raised two golden retrievers as their children. His older brother worked in a fast-paced five-star restaurant in New York as an avowed bachelor. Most of their cousins had children and his parents sulked every holiday, lamenting at the fact they were everyone's favorite aunt and uncle, yet never grandparents capable of spoiling their own grandkids. Terry broke the baby drought finally. He couldn't wait to see their shocked expressions in three months.

He rested his large hand on his daughter's midsection to feel the rise and fall of her chubby tummy. She stirred. Her limbs quivered, and she wiggled a bit before opening her eyes.

"Hi my sweet little girl," he said softly above her.

Her lips poked out, and her fretful expression humbled him. Terry lifted her up and held her close to his heart, bouncing her gently to offset the unhappy noises she made. He was still a stranger to her. He cooed and made soft sounds. She didn't cry, only gurgled and squirmed in his arms. Terry rubbed her back and walked around the room. When he cradled her, Terrina's face looked ready to cry.

"Daddy doesn't want to upset you…let's go find mommy, okay?"

"Neh…neh…" she replied, with a crinkled nose.

He wandered through the hallway and journeyed to the front room. Mawmaw sat in her rocker with Nova across from her in another armchair. Nella sat on the couch watching the TV. All eyes gazed at him walking in with his baby.

"You must've slept well," Nella said.

He grinned.

Mawmaw studied his presence and he figured the thawing out came from holding his own child and loving on her. It shifted something in the matriarch. Maybe it was the curt words he had with Uncle Pete. He glimpsed lines on Nova's forehead and became alert to restlessness in the mood of everyone there. The bulk of the Walker family already left.

He sat down next to Nella on the couch and Terrina relaxed in his arms as the familiar sound of Nella's baby-talking voice kicked in. Mawmaw glanced at Nova. Nova fidgeted in her seat.

"Terry, Jordan is on his way to drop off Van-Van. He'll be here soon."

"He know I'm here?"

"No."

"I'll stay in the backroom when he comes."

Nova nodded.

"I have to face him soon, Nova. You know that."

"I know."

He stood and padded over to Mawmaw, handing her Terrina. She held the baby close to her chest.

A late evening breeze rattled a few of the bottles on the tree outside. The lights of a car pulled into the carport driveway. Nova jumped up, and Terry retreated to the back bedroom. He sat on the bed and rested his hands on his thighs. A car door opened and slammed shut. Terry waited for Jordan to enter the house with Van-Van. Instead, he heard a woman's voice.

"He had a nap earlier so he may take longer to get to sleep tonight…Jordan bought him more pull-ups and put them in his bag with the cleaned clothes," the voice said.

"I'll bring him next week earlier," Nova said.

"You can drop him off at Boppie's house, Benji's birthday party is on Friday."

"Alright. Please make sure Boppie keeps Van-Van at the house. If Jordy makes runs, I want someone going with him…I don't trust where he goes."

"We're doing everything we can, Nova…Charles has been keeping an eye on him. You can call me if you don't want to speak to Jordan directly."

"Is he in the car?"

"Yeah."

"Sober?"

"As far as I know, yeah."

"He must not be if you had to drive and not him."

"He's just tired from earlier. We took Van-Van to the park with Erika's boys…hey Mawmaw…Nella."

"Hey, Michelle."

"Night."

The front door closed.

Terry peeked from the window and watched Michelle walk down the steps. Her tall frame disappeared under the carport where the back bedroom sat above.

Nova joined him in the bedroom and sat on the armchair. Her face had relaxed from its pinched expression right before Van-Van arrived.

"Nella has Van-Van," she said.

Heaviness pressed down on the room. Reality sunk in for Terry. Nova's life and the life of the children were in his hands. He reached over and held her hand, threading their fingers together.

"Why did you leave Jordan? Did he cheat again?"

Nova lowered her gaze to their hands clasped together and shook her head.

"His friend Charles got him a job at the port authority…helping to manage the trailers and containers. He makes decent money. I thought we were going to be okay, but then…I started finding tiny plastic baggies around the house…in his car. There were extreme mood swings. He started peeing in the bed almost every night. I thought something was wrong with his prostate. I had to put rubber sheets on our bed because he soaked up two mattresses. He started losing weight, and his face looked gaunt. I thought he was sick and begged him to get help. People I didn't know started hanging out with him. White guys. Backwoods lookin' people. At first I thought they were his new co-workers, but Charles said they were a rough crowd that hung out at a bar I've never been to before. A bunch of drug dealers and users. I showed Charles the little bags, and he told me Jordan was hooked on meth. God, Terry, I wish he was seeing another woman."

She covered her face with her hands.

"Take your time," he said.

She ran a nervous hand over the curls at her nape.

"I confronted him about it and he promised to stop. I changed Van-Van's name during that time because I could see the writing on the wall. He agreed to the change as long as I stayed with him. I did so only to get his signature for the legal documents. I called his parents and told them what was going on. His family did an intervention, and he checked into rehab. He came home and two weeks later…I found the baggies again. That's when I left him. Took Van-Van to my brother's house and then moved here after Terrina was born."

Nova took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead.

"I filed for a no-fault divorce. We have to live apart for a length of time and I'm hoping it'll be finalized by Christmas or New Year's at the latest. I requested full custody of both children and he gave it because he didn't want me filing about his drug use. I just don't understand how someone who had everything handed to him could ruin his life on purpose. He comes from a solid family…had a promising military career. Our families are so close. The man isn't stupid. He skipped going to college because he wanted to be a marine his whole life like his dad. I thought our life was going to be perfect. But then he left for basic training…"

Nova leaned her elbow on the armrest and covered her mouth.

"What kind of man throws his life away…the life of his son and wife, too…for nothing?" she asked.

Terry pulled her onto the bed with him. They laid back and faced each other.

"I went to Oceanside thinking my dream had come true. The boy I was crazy about grew up into this handsome, virile man… a soldier…yet it all turned into a nightmare. When I look back on it, I really think he wanted me pregnant because he didn't think I'd leave him because of our families being tight. He had the nerve to tell me after I handed him our divorce papers that we'd get back together again because no one wants a single mom with two kids."

"What happened when he found out about Terrina?"

Her eyebrows knitted together. It took her a long time to gather her thoughts.

"When she came out of me, none of us suspected anything. She was all wrinkled and very sensitive to light. Her eyes looked puffy, and she slept a lot. It was her ears that caught my attention after I brought her home. Then…it was clear by the eyes that she was yours. Jordy was the first and only man I ever slept with until you came along. I believed Jordy was my one true love, so even when we were on the outs, I never let any other man inside of me."

She stroked his shirt.

"The first time I met you, I thought to myself, 'That is the type of man I want Jordy to become'. When I got to know you better, I knew Jordy didn't have it in him to be like you."

He pulled her in closer. She spoke in a whisper.

"I was attracted to you the first time I met you, Terry. I took one look at your face and got scared…like I knew my life was all wrong…like I'd made a mistake. The first time I kissed you, I knew you were my destiny. Jordy was out getting high when Terrina was born. He visited us at the hospital lit as hell. His family pressured him to clean up again a few days later, and that's when he found out. He saw Terrina's eyes and got real quiet. Scary quiet. I confessed to him everything. He cried…cursed your name…cursed me while I held her in my arms. My brother put him out of the house and we didn't talk for about a week. He came back and said he would claim Terrina as his daughter, no matter what. Said I got my lick back by having another man's baby, but I was still his legal wife and the law would see him as Terrina's father because his name was on the birth certificate. As far as he was concerned, Terrina was his daughter and he would take the L and deal with it. I called Bethany because you had changed your number. She told me to do right by Terrina and tell you the truth. It took me a month to get the courage, and even then, all I could do was send you a picture and my new number. Jordy didn't want anyone to know. Instead of leaving me alone, he got it in his head that he would raise Terrina. I told him I was going to tell you. That's when he threatened to kill you and me if you ever came into the picture."

Terry's body tensed.

"He threatened physical violence against you?"

She nodded.

"Did you tell anyone? Get a restraining order or anything?"

"I went to the magistrate's office, but in order to file a complaint, you must have two incidents of harassment, stalking, or anything else threatening."

"What about when he cursed you out about the baby?"

"He was angry and directed most of his hate at you. Besides, he has a cousin who works in that department, and another cousin who is a cop here. They'd lie on his behalf to protect him and keep their family's reputation intact. I kept the paperwork and let Jordy know if he ever did anything, I would file anyway, and then head to family court to deny him visitation rights with Van-Van. God…none of them witnessed what I went through with him in California. They coddled him and turned me into the villain who tore the marriage apart. I hate it here so much."

"We have to get tests done for me and Terrina. I have to file paternity rights with the court. I want his name off her birth certificate. Nova…I want to take you and the children to Louisiana for Christmas. I haven't told my family about you and Terrina yet because I want to surprise them. I have plenty of leave time to deal with court stuff and spend time here getting to know my baby. But I have to speak with Jordan this week. I can't hide from him. Things will get uncomfortable, but the sooner he knows I'm in the picture, he'll have to come to terms with going through me for anything dealing with you."

"I want to be with you, Terry. I don't want my kids growing up around him. He'll put up a fight with me taking Van-Van away, and I don't want to deal with that or his family."

She broke down in tears.

He wiped her tears away and kissed her nose.

"I don't have much in savings or anything. The only money I get now is what Jordy gives me for the kids. I can get a job when we go to California."

"Don't worry about money or working. I have enough to cover us and I'm making some investments soon for long-term financial moves. We'll figure out a budget and expenses while I'm here… together. My condo's lease ends next August. I'll let you decide where we live. I don't even mind commuting if you want to try that TV station internship again."

Her eyes shined with delight at the idea. She'd lost so much with her goals. He was determined to give her those opportunities back.

Someone knocked on the bedroom door.

Terry removed himself from the bed and opened the door. Nella stood before him.

"Hey…the kids want to be with you, Nova. Terry, I made up the pullout bed for you to sleep on in the front room. Mawmaw doesn't want you sleeping in the bedroom with Nova because Van-Van shares the bed with her."

"I'm okay with that," he said.

"I'll bring them in here. Mawmaw is going to bed now."

He nodded and took a seat in the armchair. Nella returned holding a sleeping Terrina. She ushered Van-Van inside. The boy rubbed at his eyes.

"Hi, Van-Van," Terry whispered.

Nella put Terrina in her crib, and Nova pulled her son onto her lap.

"Night y'all," Nella said.

Van-Van stared at Terry with open curiosity.

"I suppose you don't remember me at all, huh, buddy? I was your godfather for a minute."

The toddler leaned into Nova's chest. His little 'fro was an explosion of thick corkscrew curls about three inches long.

"I'll let you two get ready for bed," he said.

He left the room and meandered back to where he would sleep. Two blankets were folded and stacked for him in the middle of the made-up sleeper. He stepped out of the house and drove his truck into the driveway. There were still two bags in the backseat, along with his duffle bag of clothes and toiletries. He left his two rollerbags of clothes under the truck bed covering. No need to pull them out until they left town.

He showered and changed his clothes in the bathroom, donning a thin t-shirt and plain blue pajama bottoms. Brushing his teeth, he settled in for the night. He pulled a wave cap over his hair and returned to the front room. The sleeper bed wasn't too lumpy. The mattress was thin, though.

He fell asleep thinking about Nova in the next room.

Terry awoke to find Nova sitting in the armchair across from the sofa bed, feeding Terrina. He glanced at his phone on the end table. Four in the morning. She looked exhausted and half asleep. Terrina released her nipple and wiggled in her arms.

"Here, give her to me. You go back to bed," he said.

Nova handed him the baby, and he rested Terrina on his chest. Right near his heart.

"Go on," he said.

Nova lingered.

"I'm so happy you're here," she said.

He puckered his lips, and she kissed him.

"Bring her to me if she becomes too much."

"She's never too much for me."

"I'm going to use the pump to make a bottle for you, in case she needs to be fed again in the next couple of hours. I'll put it in the fridge. There's a bottle warmer on the counter right next to the toaster. You can drop it in and press the 'on' button. It's already pre-set for the temperature."

Nova touched her bottom lip and her eyes looked off into the distance as if she were trying to remember something else.

"Nova…baby…I'll figure it all out. I know where the diapers, wipes and creams are. Go sleep. I got this. When she's back to sleep, I'll put her in the crib. I have the baby monitor right there if she wakes up again."

Nova wandered back to the bedroom. The soft suction of the breast pump hummed after a few minutes. He looked down at Terrina.

"You and me? Tag team?" he said, softly.

He rubbed her back gently, and she released a little burp that made him smile. Listening to the sounds of the old house, it didn't take long to hear Nova's footsteps moving into the kitchen, putting a bottle away. She ducked her head back in.

"I was able to make two bottles," she whispered.

"Okay. We're good here."

She went back to the bedroom.

Holding his child so close, Terry felt like the world had grown bigger with Terrina in it. Used to living day by day, no further than the week ahead of him, he now had to consider years into the future. She wouldn't always stay a tiny baby. She'd learn to walk, talk…run. He couldn't worry about protecting the country anymore from outside threats. He had to hone in on the tiny girl on his chest from now on… his flesh and blood, not the unknown citizens he trained other men to go fight for.

The world could be a dangerous place, and little girls needed fathers who would slay dragons for them. His precious baby slept on his chest for about an hour before he was positive she wouldn't wake up if he moved. He carried her into the back bedroom and quietly put her back in the crib.

Van-Van slept against Nova's side. He watched them both sleep for a minute and then returned to the sofa bed. Sleep wouldn't come to him, so he watched the color of the sky slowly change into pale pastels to bring in the new day. Terrina's soft whimpering crackled on the baby monitor. He rose from his bed and entered the back bedroom again, getting a feel for everything Nova had to do twenty-four seven. Finding the baby's diaper clean, he picked her up; she stared at him, her tiny lips forming shapes as she stuck her tongue in and out.

"Somebody's hungry again. Good Lord, little girl, you'll be as big as daddy if you keep eating so much."

The corners of Terrina's lips went up at the sound of his voice, and she opened her mouth, making breathy sounds. He grinned at her and she gave him the biggest smile that melted his heart.

"Daddy loves you," he whispered.

Nova rolled over and looked at them.

"Sleep some more," he said.

He walked out carrying Terrina and went to the kitchen. Heating the baby bottle was easy and soon enough he was in the front room armchair feeding his daughter an early breakfast. Around seven thirty, Mawmaw and Nella roused up and started cooking breakfast, using the leftovers from Sunday's breakfast.

Mawmaw peeked at him holding Terrina.

"She take to una, real good, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Van-Van ran in and hugged her.

"Mornin'," Mawmaw said.

She patted Van-Van's hair and Nova came out to join him wearing a robe.

"Got some sleep?" Mawmaw said.

"Thanks to Terry."

"Breakfast is ready. Y'all come on in here," Nella said.

Terry could tell Mawmaw wanted to hold Terrina, but she moved her walker toward the dining room. He started following them, but stopped when he smelled a sudden odor. He sniffed and looked at Terrina. Her cheeks puffed out like she had jawbreaker candies stuck in them. Stink-stink.

He changed her diaper and enjoyed the rest of the day with his new family. Mawmaw started talking to him about his life and Nella listened in while weaving sweetgrass baskets with Nova on the porch. The women's nimble fingers wove the pleasant-smelling plant fiber using a long nail and twisting the long strands of sweetgrass around. Nella sold them in a little shop she co-owned with a cousin and also online.

Mawmaw was a master basketweaver and taught her children and grandchildren the skill. Nova instructed him on how to start his own basket and he was able to weave a little coaster for his beers. She showed him the round earrings she made for herself and wore them proudly. There was something sacred about watching the women weave as Mawmaw overlooked their work with advice and suggestions on the designs. He admired the baskets around the house that were over a hundred years old and crafted by Mawmaw's aunts and other kin. She told him stories about cymbee spirits in the rivers surrounding the island and warned him about trickster mermaids in the ocean who loved to seduce handsome men and drag them to their watery world. Terry grinned and Mawmaw teased him, "They like a big fella like una. Watch out now!" Nova giggled with embarrassment witnessing her grandmother warming up to him further.

In the late afternoon, he went for a walk to the beach with Nova and the children. She fitted his shoulders and midsection with a stretchy orange baby wrap, and placed Terrina in it so he could carry her while she held Van-Van's hand. A shyness came over her as they joined hands for the first time in public. Van-Van's curiosity about him would transform their relationship. This was their first step in becoming something new in the world together.

They watched Van-Van run around on the beach with his toddler waddle. Terrina fell asleep, and he loved the feel of her warm little body snug against his. On the way back, they stopped by the bottle tree so Van-Van could look at the pretty blue colors sparkle in the sunlight.

After putting the children down for a nap, he and Nova called to make an appointment for the paternity test. They also narrowed down a choice of lawyers to a Black woman with a solid reputation. He called and spoke to her directly, making a personal appointment for Wednesday.

By dinner, Terry grew comfortable in Mawmaw's house. He washed the dishes and looked after the children with Mawmaw while Nova helped Nella clean the porch. They laughed and told jokes and seemed at peace until Nova's father showed up.

Mr. Titus Easton was fifty-one, broad-shouldered, good-looking, with a cleft chin, and a boisterous energy about him. It reminded Terry of Jordan.

"Terry, this is my father. Daddy, this is…well, you know who he is," Nova said.

Mawmaw and Nella left the front room to find other things to do in the house. Van-Van played with the Captain America doll, and Nova held their daughter.

"Sit down, young man," Titus said.

Nova turned to leave the room, but her father pointed for her to sit on the couch next to Terry. Titus sat in the armchair and stared at them both with sad eyes.

"I didn't come to Sunday breakfast with your mother Nova because I was too upset and afraid of what I would say while everybody was here. But I thought about it and I want to know what you two plan on doing."

Terry sat close to Nova as she cuddled Terrina. Van-Van went on about his business saving the world with Sam Wilson on the floor.

"I contacted a lawyer, sir, and this Wednesday I'm getting a DNA test to establish paternity. We're getting Terrina's birth certificate amended as soon as possible."

"And then what? My daughter's divorce hasn't gone through. She's still married to Jordan. What are your intentions besides taking care of the child you made with her?"

Terry didn't sense anger in Titus. The man genuinely sounded worried for his daughter and grandchildren. Terry hadn't planned to talk about marriage until he asked Nova for her hand, but her father pressed him to speak about everything.

"I want to marry her, Mr. Easton."

Nova's eyes widened, and she couldn't hold back a smile.

"I see. Will you relocate here?"

"No. I'm taking Nova with me. The children, too."

Titus kept quiet. He looked at his grandson on the floor.

"Does your mother know this, Nova?"

"No."

"Is this really what you want to do?"

"I want to be with Terry. We have a daughter now, and we need to be together to raise her. Van-Van as well."

"Is he a good man?"

"Better than good, daddy. He supports me. Loves me. Wants to be with me."

Terrina wiggled and Terry took her from Nova's arms. Titus looked at his granddaughter's precious face and then studied the same features on Terry's.

"Terry is the one, daddy. Jordan was a terrible mistake that can't be fixed. Prayer and counseling don't work. He broke me…brought me to my lowest."

Nova's lip trembled, and she buried her face against Terry's shoulder. Titus stood and walked over to her.

"Come here, sweetheart," Titus said.

Nova stood and hugged her father. He stroked her hair and patted her back.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I had to come see for myself. I've always wanted the best for you and you've always been a good person who worked hard and did all the things in life right. It hurt me when your mother told me about what Terry said…how you suffered so much humiliation. Why didn't you tell us when you were out there?"

Nova wiped her eyes.

"You taught me to always try to work through problems…and Jordy and I…it was hard to tell everyone the truth about him because everybody had such high expectations for us…for our families connecting. I didn't want to give up if there was a chance for things to get better. They just didn't…not even when we came home."

"Okay…okay…I understand…"

Titus comforted his daughter. He stepped back from her and held his hands out for Terrina.

"May I?"

Terry handed the baby to him.

"Hey punkin, grandpa came to see you and Van-Van."

Van-Van heard his name and jumped up, grabbing hold of Titus's leg, showing him his new action figure.

"He fly, grampa," Van-Van said.

"He does? Lemme see."

He moved over to the middle of the floor and Van-Van ran in a circle around him, holding up Sam Wilson. Titus spent an hour with his grandchildren before handing Terrina over for a feeding.

"Come to the house for dinner on Thursday," Titus said. "We'll break the news to your mother and work out ways to help you."

"Thank you, daddy," Nova said.

Titus held out a hand to Terry.

"We can talk again…later. I feel like things are moving too fast for the two of you, but I won't stand in your way," Titus said.

"I respect that," Terry said.

Titus left, and Nova continued feeding the baby. Van-Van showed Terry the other things he bought for him and they interacted in a way that made Mawmaw smile when she returned to the front room and settled into her rocking chair.

The evening quieted his mind and he sat with Nova on the porch trying to catch a cool breeze. They held hands and talked quietly, reminding one another of why they fell in love. Each of them had inquisitive minds and they admired that about the other. Technology and new media interested them and they laughed about the short videos she posted on social media back in Oceanside, where she described life as a marine wife and Sci Fi geek. She had a couple of popular videos where she talked about books and others about being a new mother that went viral before she left for South Carolina.

On Wednesday, they packed up the baby in a car seat and left Van-Van with Nella to babysit so they could get the paternity test done at the South Carolina Department of Social Services. Cheek swabs were taken for him and Terrina, and afterward, they headed over to see his lawyer, Shelly-Anne, where they would make sure all legal paperwork went through her. They explained their situation and Nova gave Shelley-Anne Jordan's address to be notified of the legal proceedings as they came about pertaining to Terrina.

He dropped Nova and the children off at her parent's house Thursday morning and drove to a popular Charleston barbecue joint, Rodney Scott's BBQ. Terry didn't tell her he was meeting Jordan face to face before dinner with her parents. She would've freaked out and probably insisted that she come with him. He had to see the man alone. But he kept the venue public.

Arriving ten minutes after the place opened, he requested a seat on the outside patio and waited. He spotted Jordan as he rounded a corner.

The man didn't look well at all. Jordan once had the physique and clean-cut look the marines put on the cover of brochures for marketing, but now…

Meth had taken a toll on him.

There were deep grooves in his cheeks and the weight loss startled Terry. Jordan looked half his former size. Some muscle mass still gave him a cut, lean look with his frame, but the scruffy beard that didn't connect and the faraway look in his eyes hinted at the man's struggle. People who didn't know Jordan would probably see a handsome Black man out in casual dress of basketball shorts and a hoodie with a purposely unkempt short 'fro, with legs in need of lotion. To Terry's eyes, the man appeared unwell, and not just physically.

Jordan peered at the other patrons on the far side of the patio area with suspicion. When he lined his gaze with Terry, his body tensed and he halted, as if Terry were an apparition he wasn't truly expecting to see. There was no masking the blistering contempt in his eyes.

Jordan moved closer with an erratic bounce in his step and sat down across from him. For a full five minutes, they stared at each other. Actually, Terry stared and Jordan glared. A server brought them water and menus.

"We'll need some time looking this over. There's a lot to choose from," he told the server.

"No problem."

The young white woman walked away. Jordan leaned forward.

"I asked you to your fucking face if you were fucking her, and you told me…to my face…that you weren't. Some friend you turned out to be."

Terry didn't break eye contact and kept his cool.

"Why did you sleep with her?"

"Because your neglect made it easy to take her."

His voice came out condescending, and that's not how Terry wanted to sound. That was ego talking. That was male flexing to dig at a loser. False bravado masking the dirt on his hands for taking another man's woman even though he knew it was wrong. Jordan wasn't really a loser…just lost. Somewhere along his path to adulthood, he got stunted. Used other women to hide whatever internal failings he had.

Terry folded his hands on the table.

"I fell in love with her, Jordan. It's as simple as that. You didn't want her. I did. Now she and I have a child together—"

Jordan slammed his fist on the patio table. Terry glanced around. No one paid attention to them isolated in a corner.

"Nova is my wife—"

"Estranged wife. That divorce paperwork is coming soon. I'm also getting my name put on Terrina's birth certificate. I want you to hear this from me first…I'm taking Nova away from Charleston."

His words slowly registered in Jordan's brain. Tears welled up in the man's eyes.

"I take care of both my kids," Jordan barked. "Terrina is my daughter legally. I pay child support for her. Whatever you and Nova had is over, nigga. You're not taking my wife and kids outta Charleston."

"Nova doesn't want to be here. Her life will be away from you. I'm sorry, man. That's the way it's going to be. From now on, we'll work out things civilly without short-changing you. You can stop paying for Terrina because that's my responsibility as her father. You're Novan's father. Nothing changes that. But let's be real here. You failed Nova as a man. Look at you…wasting away like you don't care. Stressing her out to where she wants to leave her entire family. We can set up visitation for you and Van-Van—"

Jordan lunged across the table. Terry anticipated the action, deflecting Jordan's hands away. Both men stood up and faced off. Jordan reached into the kangaroo pockets of his hoodie and Terry clearly saw him grip the outline of a gun. He quickly glanced around to make sure no patrons were nearby to get hurt. Holding up his hands to his chest, Terry stayed calm. From his peripheral, he noticed Titus approaching them.

"He has a weapon, Mr. Easton," Terry said under his breath, not wanting to escalate the situation.

"Jordy, stay easy…let's not get out of hand," Titus said.

"Why'd you invite him here?" Jordan said.

"I didn't."

Titus gingerly approached Terry's side.

"Your sister Michelle got a hold of me and told me you were meeting Terry here. She was worried about you getting into it, and she was right…we can all work this thing out like sensible men."

"Work things out? He's stealing my wife…taking my kids away from me."

Titus glanced at the outline of Jordan's hand gripping the gun.

"Jordan, we can get you some help. Get you back on the right track," Titus pleaded.

"Nah. I'ma get me a lawyer…I'm gonna fight this. Fight for my marriage. Ain't no slick, pretty boy taking my family away from me. Life ain't promised, but death is for sho'. I'll kill you first, Terry, before I let you take what's mine. Your days are numbered, nigga."

A police vehicle rolled by on the street, spooking Jordan. He stormed past Titus and left the patio just as other patrons entered to be seated. Terry took a deep breath and sat down. Titus took over Jordan's spot across from him.

"I…I had no idea he was that far gone," Titus said. "I knew he had problems, but…he actually wants to kill you."

"I can take any threat as long as it doesn't go toward Nova."

Titus's hands shook.

"His eyes looked so dead. That is not the same young man that married my daughter. My God."

The server returned and Terry encouraged Titus to eat lunch with him inside the establishment with a good view of the entrance, in case Jordan returned. They ordered pulled pork with coleslaw and hushpuppies. Pauletta planned on cooking an enormous meal for their dinner, so a sandwich with easy sides was what the two men allowed themselves to indulge in. Terry's calm dealing with an agitated Jordan impressed Titus. They spoke about his work in the marines and he explained from his side of things how he fell for Nova. He tried to keep away from her, but the pull—the attraction — was just too damn strong. Titus let slip a smile at the way Terry described all the qualities that made Nova special to him…made him willing to risk it all for her. Her sweetness. The way her mind worked. How she made him feel whole when he was with her. How she made everyone want to be their best selves when she was around. Her low country cooking. The unassuming beauty she carried inside and out. He couldn't tell him the more mushy poetic things he felt, like how the sun rose in her eyes, or how her kisses gave him the breath of life, or how her touches on his skin turned him into sculptor's clay that she could shape any way she liked.

They ate their food and got to know each other as mature men wanting the best for Nova and the children.

Terry followed Titus back to his Victorian-styled home. Neither of them wanted to alarm the women about Jordan, but Titus encouraged Terry to find a place to stay where he could keep Nova and the children safe quickly.

Dinner was tense with Titus and Terry listening for any cars pulling up, or waiting for calls to come at Nova. The Easton household had outdoor security cameras, and that helped with any warning. Nova kept her phone off and that left her in the dark until they ended the meal, when she wanted to call Nella and Mawmaw and let them know they were on their way back. Titus had sounded the alarm to the Patterson family after they left the BBQ spot, and Jordan's people searched the streets of Charleston looking for him, afraid he would harm himself. Everyone agreed Terry was the target, and Nova called Jordan's mother, Boppie, to cancel all of Van-Van's weekend visitations with his father until further notice.

Both families were on edge. Terry found a decent extended stay hotel with a small kitchen and double beds. Nova turned it into a home for them, cooking hearty meals and sharing childcare with him. The hotel afforded them some measure of safety and freedom until his lawyer completed his legal paperwork. Titus paid for their accommodations for a month and checked in with Terry every day.

Through it all, he bonded with Terrina and Van-Van.

His daughter loved the animated way he'd speak to her and nothing gave him joy in the morning more than waking up to the sound of her squeals or Van-Van tapping his face to wake him up for a trip to the nearby park. Nova became more relaxed in her own space. At night, when the children were fast asleep, they snuggled together under the covers, their only intimacy holding each other. They laughed and chatted away the hours, reigniting a passion that never left, even when she had been far away from him. Sharing a bed with Nova unlocked a new level of closeness he never experienced with a woman before. She tended to talk with her hands, gesticulating her points with dramatic sweeps in the air like butterflies dancing. While he spoke of his dreams for them, she would stare deep into his eyes. His voice mesmerized her and sometimes she'd look at him as if entranced, even if he was just talking about buying her a car when they returned to Oceanside.

The first time they shared a bed all night together, Terry awoke with a jolt several times in a fitful sleep, and had to feel for her in the dark to make sure she was still by his side. He cherished the first time he watched delicate rays of yellow morning light touch her face before she woke up.

Sometimes they kissed. Other times they spooned and luxuriated in the freedom to touch each other without a time limit. Nothing sexual took place. That wasn't important to him. She was still healing and their reconnection started with the mental, which was where their love began in the first place. Talking to each other and discovering the hidden layers. Each night became a fun slumber party, and they'd hide under the covers to whisper to each other, not wanting to wake the babies.

He made the mistake of buying Van-Van a children's book that had bells and whistles and little noise makers on each page to correspond with the story. The boy loved playing with it every day as Terry read to him, but seemingly it occurred at the most inopportune times when Nova tried to put Terrina to sleep. She hid the book in a drawer from her son who always asked Terry to read it to him. However that didn't work because Terry also liked playing with the book, and would amuse himself with it after Van-Van went to sleep. Nova literally had to pry it out of his hands at night to hide it from him, too.

"I swear, you're just as bad as Van-Van, making all that noise when you know Terrina is trying to sleep," she'd scold with a playful tone.

Nova took him to his first baby doctor appointment for Terrina. She was weighed and measured and the doctor was pleased with her progress. He watched his baby receive a fresh dose of vaccine shots for two-month-olds. He nearly started crying himself, listening to his daughter wail after her shots. Her trembling bottom lip covered her top one as tears spilled down her chubby cheeks while he cooed soft words of comfort. His love for her soared and he walked around feeling blessed.

Two weeks in, he called his friend Von and had a long talk with him about his new life. Von took it in stride, although there was a slight hint of disappointment that he hadn't confided in him about his struggles being in love with Nova. He also called his friend Angie over a video chat and she listened to him, flabbergasted, for an hour.

"You must tell your parents," Angie said.

"I want to surprise them for Christmas.'

"Your mother will have a fit if you deny her this time to know Terrina and Novan."

"It's only a couple of months."

"Trust me on this."

Nova walked in on him with the children at the hotel. She'd gone down to the courtyard to get some air and to let Van-Van explore.

"I told Angie about us…about Terrina," he said.

Nova handed him the baby, and Terry showed his firstborn to Angie.

"Oh…Terry…aw…she's so cute…listen, I'm hanging up. Make a zoom chat with your parents. They have to know about this before Christmas."

He glanced at Nova.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Nova released Van-Van's hand and sat down on the bed next to him.

"I agree with Angie."

"Hey, Nova. I'm happy for you both. I really am."

"Thank you."

"I'm jumping off this call. Contact your parents right now, T. Bye!"

He lifted Terrina into his arms and sniffed her dainty curls. They smelled like cocoa butter.

"We should do it now while it's still early…and I'm feeling brave," Nova said.

He carried the baby over to his laptop on the hotel desk and Nova dragged a wingback chair next to the roller one he plopped down in, holding Terrina. His entire body shivered and his mouth went dry. He always did video chats with his parents every two weeks, so it wouldn't be out of the blue contacting them. Nova rubbed his arm.

"Are you nervous too?" he asked.

"A little."

He glanced over at Van-Van, who happily played with two race cars Terry bought for him. His squeals of delight encouraged Terry to turn on the laptop. Nova held Terrina for him, freeing his hands to text his mother quickly. His mother, Tonette, responded three minutes later, asking him to wait five minutes so she could get his father from their backyard garden.

The time came, and he sent a link to his parents to jump on a call with him. His parent's faces popped up together, but on his half of the screen, he left up the avatar picture of himself in full marine regalia.

"We can't see you Jaybird," Tonette said.

"I'll turn on the camera in a minute mama, but I need to talk to you both about something important."

"They're finally shipping you out, aren't they?" Tonette asked.

His mother's pleasant face shifted into a concerned expression behind her glasses. The short micro-braided brown bob she sported gave her a youthful exuberance. The tone of his voice brought worry lines to both of his parent's foreheads. His father, Gordon, pressed his lips together, steadying himself for any news that could be bad. Terry noticed the sun's darkening of his light nutmeg-colored skin from spending days of his early retirement outdoors growing beans and squash. He'd recently trimmed his beard that had more gray in it.

"Is that why you couldn't come see us?" Gordon asked.

Terry took a deep breath and watched his avatar blink as he spoke.

"I had to take a trip to South Carolina to meet someone."

His mother clasped her hands together.

"You finally have a steady girlfriend? Is that it?"

Her face became animated.

"Um…it's a little more than that, mama. I did meet someone special. Three years ago. It's a bit complicated, but we've decided to be together. Her name is Nova."

"Nova…ooh that's so different. That's Latin for 'new', isn't it Dino?" Tonette said.

She nudged his father's arm, using her nickname for him.

His father's expression remained neutral. He could hear the stressors in Terry's voice.

"I'm going to bring her with me to Christmas."

Tonette's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Oh, she's definitely special if you're bringing her home with you," Tonette joked. "Jaybird, is your camera not working?"

Terry glanced at Nova, and her eyes were bright, appreciating his mother's enthusiasm.

"Mama, Dad, when I come, I'm bringing you a very special Christmas gift, but I want to share it with you now."

"If it's special, save it for then," Tonette said.

Terry swallowed the lump in his throat. His father's face loomed on the screen next to his mother.

"I can't save my gift because she'll be a lot bigger by then, and I want you to see her now."

"See her?" Gordon asked.

Terry tapped the camera view on his end. He cradled Terrina in his lap with Nova pressed into his side.

His mother's mouth fell open.

"Nova and I had a baby. This is your first grandchild. Say hello to Terrina Octavia Richmond."

His mother burst into tears and nearly knocked her glasses off by holding her face in surprise. His father's eyes lit up so brightly that Terry could feel the warmth eight hundred miles away.

"Oh my, God…oh my God," Tonette murmured.

She peeked at Terrina with watery eyes. His father swelled with pride. Terrina babbled and cooed, her baby feet kicking his thighs.

"That's my grandbaby?" Tonette asked.

"She sure is, mama."

"She looks like you, oh Lord, she looks like me too!"

Tonette laughed and covered her mouth. She gazed at Nova.

"Hello, Nova...oh, I look a mess. Had I known this was a momentous occasion, I would've dressed up to meet my grandbaby!"

His mother sniffled and hid her face in Gordon's neck.

"Hi there, Terrina…I'm your grandpa…Grandpa Dino."

Nova wiped her eyes and looked at Terry. They both didn't want to go into how it all happened, but they had to. His mother calmed down, her face all blotchy and wet from the news.

"How come you didn't tell us?" Tonette asked.

"It's complicated, mama. Nova and I are dealing with something, and it's why I had to come to Charleston to get her and Terrina."

"What's going on?" Gordon asked.

Van-Van squealed and ran over to them, waving a toy truck around.

"You gave us two grandbabies and didn't tell us?" Tonette shouted with glee.

"Novan is my son from a previous relationship," Nova said, her voice quivering.

"We get to have two grandbabies for Christmas?!"

Tonette was over the moon.

"Van-Van, go play over there so we can talk, okay, baby?" Nova said.

"Hi Van-Van, it's your Grandpa Dino."

"Hi!" Van-Van shouted.

"He is so adorable," Tonette said.

"Mommy, come play with my doll."

"In a minute. Mommy has to talk some more, okay?"

"Talk to the people in the TV?"

Gordon chuckled, and Tonette beamed in her seat, so enamored with both children.

"How old are you, Novan?" Tonette asked.

Van-Van held up two fingers and then ran over to his bed. He played with all the cool toys in his new collection.

"Mama…Dad…Nova and I met three years ago in Oceanside. She was married to a soldier I trained and…well…he mistreated her. She and I fell in love while she was pregnant with Novan and then we parted when she wanted to make things work out with her husband."

"You're still married, Nova?" Gordon asked.

"I'm waiting for my divorce to go through. I gave birth to Terrina here, in Charleston, and didn't know she was Terry's until I saw her. We recently had a paternity test done and we're waiting for Terry's name to go on the new birth certificate."

"My goodness," Gordon said.

Terry's parents looked at each other with a wordless understanding. Terry cleared his throat.

"As soon as I get the paternity papers, I'm going to convert my accrued vacation leave into paternity leave so I can save all those other vacation days for another time. I get twelve weeks of paternity leave, and we want to spend that time with you in Cypress Bend. That way you can know the baby, Novan…and Nova."

Tonette burst into tears again and left her seat. Gordon nodded his head.

"You can stay for as long as you like. We can't wait to meet you, Nova," Gordon said.

Tonette returned with a tissue in her hand, sans glasses. She wiped her eyes and sat back down.

"Sorry y'all, I'm just overwhelmed. I can't believe all of this. I'm happy …overjoyed. I've been wanting this for so long…oh! Nova, I don't know if he told you…we've been waiting to have grandchildren for years. Dino is retired, and I work part-time now from home, so we have plenty of time and the energy to help with grandbabies, and none of our kids gave us any! I need pictures and video. I have to tell everyone and brag that I'm a grandma now!'

Tonette stared at Terrina. The baby seemed confused by the voices and faces staring at her.

"Say hi to Grandma and Grandpa," he said.

Terrina stared up at his face and gave him a happy smile. His parents watched him, and Terry let go of the anxious burden that sat in his chest from the start of the call. They accepted the situation.

"My baby had a baby," Tonette said, and wept again.

Their call lasted nearly three hours until Terrina had to nurse. Nova moved out of view of the camera to feed Terrina and Van-Van chatted with his parents for another twenty minutes until they ended the call.

Terry put Van-Van down for a nap, and Nova placed Terrina inside the portable crib he purchased when they first moved into the hotel. He cuddled with Nova on their bed. Relief shined in her face. His parents accepted her with open arms and no judgment.

"They are going to fall in love with you the way I did," he reassured her.

"I'm so happy they took to Van-Van well."

"Are you kidding? Did you hear my mother? She's already shopping on Amazon to order everything that little boy could ever want for Christmas. I bet she's going to have matching pajama sets for all of us when we get there."

"I can't wait to meet them in person."

His cell phone blew up with texts from his brother and sister. Even his favorite cousin Mike left a voicemail congratulating him. He shot off photos and videos of Terrina and Van-Van from his phone. Angie had been right. Telling his parents sooner would make their Christmas even sweeter together. Also, the truth about them as a couple was out in the open. Nova was excited about staying in Louisiana for a good chunk of time during the holidays. She looked so happy. All he could do was hold her tight.

Shelly-Anne filed the paperwork for the birth certificate.

Terry held the copy of the parternity results. He informed his commander that he'd already contacted Human Resources to claim his paternity leave, and spent most of his days organizing his personal affairs. He set up an allotment to Nova's bank account for the children and contacted his health insurance company to add them, too. Things were falling into place nicely.

He took a drive around town alone to enjoy the day while Nova spent the afternoon with her mother and Brielle shopping for clothes. He gave her money to buy herself some new things to spoil herself. By late afternoon, Nova texted about Jordan's suspension from his job for acting strange. His friend Charles sent him home. Terry had been ready to shoulder the responsibility of providing for Van-Van. Nova wanted to use his child support money as a monthly college deposit for her son. If Jordan's financial stability tanked already, he'd have to fine tune the budget he and Nova put together for their expenses. She had encouraged Terry to think about finishing college after he left the marines. He completed his junior year at Louisiana State University before dropping out to join Von in the military after Von lost his athletic scholarship because of a serious football injury. They both started acting a little wild and the marine discipline shaped them both right up.

Terry stopped at a bar & grill to eat a burger and have a beer before joining Nova and the kids. His mother kept texting him questions about Nova and her interests so she could find Christmas gifts for her. Nova loved to read, and he mentioned books. Since she picked Terrina's middle name after her favorite science fiction writer, Octavia E. Butler, he suggested a box set collection of Octavia E. Butler's Patternmaster series that he checked out online on Nova's public wishlist. Moments later, his mother sent him a jpeg of the book set she ordered for Nova. Terry tapped his front pants pocket. He had the perfect gift he planned on giving her.

An engagement ring.

He had to be slick trying to get her ring size without her knowing. While she slept, he snuck one of her everyday rings out of her small jewelry box she packed at the hotel. He took it to the best jeweler in town and chose an oval cut diamond ring with a 14K white-gold band. Taking the black velvet box out of his pocket, he set it on the bar table and peered at it again. He planned to do his big one by proposing to her properly on Christmas Eve when his entire family got together for caroling and eating oysters with champagne, a family tradition. He would use that time as a partial engagement party for them among his family and friends. Von and Bethany were going to be there for Christmas, and he would take that time to ask Von to be his best man for a future wedding after they settled in Oceanside. Maybe they could have a beach wedding with flag football. He grinned. In his mind, he could already see Nova running up to him in a puffy white wedding dress, snatching a flag from around his tuxedo as he tried to throw a football.

He pocketed the ring box and paid his tab. Wandering out to his truck, he had the sensation of being watched.

The parking lot was full of cars. He glanced back and forth, looking for other patrons. No one. He couldn't shake the feeling and moved with caution. Starting his truck, he didn't waste time glancing at his phone like he normally would to check-in with Nova. He backed out and drove onto the street, checking his rearview constantly. Going straight to Nova's parents had been the plan, but he opted to drive around to make sure he wasn't being followed by Jordan.

Merging onto a main highway that led to the suburbs, he noticed a dark, mid-sized sedan following him. He changed lanes twice and sped up, but the other vehicle filled the gap between them by at least three car lengths. Tinted windows didn't help him make out the driver, and the two-lane road had no other cars heading in their direction.

The other car sped up next to him and swerved to the right like it wanted to hit him, causing Terry to jerk the wheel and fly off the shoulder onto a grassy field. He braked hard before his truck hit a ditch and rolled. Startled, his eyes narrowed, and he shifted gears. He chased the car down, losing it on an off-ramp. He considered following, but didn't know the area well enough to trust that he wasn't being led to more trouble. Unable to confirm it was Jordan or some racist redneck trying to be funny, Terry continued to Nova's parents.

Outside the Easton home, Nova argued with four other adults alongside her parents. Terry pulled into the driveway and hopped out. He recognized an older woman as Jordan's mother, Boppie and Jordan's sister Michelle, along with their father, Maxwell. He guessed the other man harassing Nova and her parents was a brother. Jordan's mother was teary-eyed, but cursed a blue streak at Nova and Pauletta. Titus stayed in front of his wife as Jordan's father spewed angry words like his spouse. The Easton's returned the same fervor, blaming Jordan for everything.

Boppie spotted Terry and shouted, taking her purse and striking him in the face. Nova shoved the woman back.

"Don't you touch him!" Nova screamed.

Terry touched his lip. The purse emblem cut his lip. He bled a little and Pauletta charged Boppie, but Titus held his wife back. Michelle yelled at Nova.

"He has a right to see his son! So do we!" Michelle shrieked.

"How can you do this to Jordy, Nova? To us?" Boppie screeched.

Terry reached for Nova's arm and tried to pull her away, but she thrust herself in front of Jordan's relatives.

"Jordy is a fucking meth addict!" Nova screamed. "Stop treating him like a baby and demand that he act like a grown ass man for once and control his substance abuse! I'm leaving this place and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Terry let her get the emotions out. It felt terrible watching two close families go at each other, however he recognized the power it took for Nova to speak up for herself and her needs, no longer letting her ex's trials and tribulations stop her from moving on.

"I will never trust him with Van-Van! None of you!"

Boppie threw her head back and lashed at the sky, begging God to intervene. Maxwell glared at Titus.

"You'll let some stranger tear apart twenty-five years of friendship?" Maxwell said.

Titus walked up to his friend.

"Jordan needs help, Max. He's abusing that stuff. He abused my daughter's trust. Humiliated her as his wife. I watched him threaten to kill Terry with a gun!"

"Liar! He would never do something like that!" Boppie shrieked.

Maxwell wore bewilderment on his face.

"He had a gun?" Maxwell asked.

"He carried it in his hoodie," Titus said.

Nova stomped over to the Patterson's.

"I'm leaving this state. Jordy needs long-term help. Something is wrong with him and I won't let my son be around any of you in the future until you deal with that. Terry is the man I love…we're leaving soon and I don't want you coming to my parent's house like this ever again!"

The tone in her voice quieted everyone present.

A police car pulled up to the curb. The neighbor called for disturbing the peace. Terry glimpsed an older white man standing in his driveway across the street with a cordless phone, observing the entire confrontation.

"Let's go in," he said.

He ushered Nova and her mother inside the house while Titus dealt with the cops and the Patterson family. Nova shook with a feral rage in his arms.

"Can we leave here now?" she begged him.

"We'll head out Wednesday. I'll reserve the U-Haul tonight," he said.

The cops gave Titus a warning, and it took a long time to calm Nova down. She wanted to fight everybody. Pauletta wept about them leaving, but nothing would change their minds. Nova tended to his cut lip, and he kept his mouth shut about being run off the road. They were leaving Charleston. That's all that mattered.

Within two days, they had a U-Haul cargo trailer ready to hitch on his truck in Mawmaw's driveway. Nova packed everything she owned inside of it. She carried purpose and determination on her face, and he loved her more for it.

He spent a brisk fall Tuesday morning making a final payment to his lawyer for her work and bought Nova a bouquet of sugary pink roses just because. Under different circumstances, Charleston might've been a cool place to vacation and spend more time in, but the Patterson family soured every inch of the low country for Terry. His mind stayed on spending Thanksgiving and Christmas with his family in Cypress Bend.

"Comeya, follow me," Mawmaw said, after a hearty lunch.

She had cooked Nova and Terry fried fish and Charleston red rice with a side of thick okra soup, and he suspected it was an attempt to keep them there longer by stuffing him with delicious food. He followed her into the front room.

"Take it down," she said.

She pointed to the painting above the mantel. He lifted the heavy frame from the thick hook in the wall.

"Dat is my gift to una… and Nova. Parta we go with the chirren. Hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

Nella and Nova wrapped the painting in a blanket and he secured it carefully under the truck bed covering he kept locked. Mawmaw also handed him a small sweetgrass basket she made.

"I put Carolina Gold Rice in dere. Nova cook up some red rice for oonah family," Mawmaw said.

Uncle Pete arrived and picked Mawmaw up. She didn't want to be around when they left in the morning, and gave long hugs and kisses to Van-Van, Terrina, and Nova. Before climbing into Pete's Escalade, she moved away from her walker and hugged Terry. Whatever litany of exaggerations she may have formed in her mind about him when he first arrived had dissipated. He was family now.

"Take care of Nova and dem chirren, hear?" she whispered in his ear.

"I promise, Mawmaw," he said.

He released her frail body that encased an inner strength. Nella patted his back.

"She'll be okay. You showed yourself to be an honorable man to Nova. She knows you love them kids fierce, too," Nella said.

He went to gas up the truck and picked up snacks for the road at around two-thirty. Edisto Island looked glorious in the early fall, and he took himself to the beach to gaze at the eastern shore one more time before they departed for good. He kicked off his shoes and socks and dipped his toes in, letting the Atlantic Ocean chill rejuvenate his tired feet. Lifting and packing things for Nova, while also running around playing with Van-Van, had his dogs howling. He plopped his backside on the sand with the tall sea oat plants against his back and surveyed the horizon where the sky touched the impossibly green ocean.

He closed his eyes and let the ocean breeze kiss his eyelids.

"God…thank you. Thank you for bringing Nova into my life with Van-Van. Thank you for allowing us to have Terrina. Please watch over us as we make this journey to my family in Louisiana. Grant me the strength and fortitude to be the best man and father I can be for Nova…"

He listened to the sound of the surf and the squawk of a seabird after he finished his prayer. The sharp scent of the ocean refreshed him, and he took a deep inhale. Opening his eyes again, he stood and wandered slowly back to his truck as the shadows of early evening enveloped him.

At Mawmaw's, he pulled his truck into the driveway. He'd connect to the U-Haul trailer in the morning. Craning his head to look up at the house, he noticed the front room lights weren't on. He guessed Nova went to bed early to rest with the children. Nella's car was on the street and she was probably watching her shows in her room. He clicked his key fob, locking the truck. Stretching his arms, he knew Terrina would be antsy to eat. He hoped there was a bottle in the fridge he could heat so that Nova could rest. Another strong breeze blew across his face.

Heading for the stairs, the sound of glass breaking steered him toward the carport. Shattered pieces of blue bottle glass sat under the bottle tree. A gust of wind shook a branch so hard that another bottle fell and broke, glass fragments shooting toward the cement driveway.

The back of the U-Haul trailer caught his eye.

It was partially open.

He lifted the handle to check if anything had been stolen. Nope. The trailer remained packed to the gills. He slammed the roll-up door back down and locked it with the key still stuck inside the lock. That's when he glimpsed something shiny jammed against the right back tire and picked it up. Nova's cell phone with a shattered screen. He glanced around the rest of the driveway, using a flashlight app on his smartphone. Drops of blood led to the edge of the property where he found Nella crumpled in a heap.

"Nella!"

Terry dropped to his knees and touched her neck. She was alive, just knocked out cold.

"Nella…Nella…"

Nella moaned with groggy energy. She came to and stared at Terry with unfocused eyes.

"Jordon…" she mumbled.

"Jordon did this to you?"

She nodded and grabbed his arm.

"He walked up on us. Nova tried to call the police…he knocked her phone out of her hand and grabbed Van-Van. He…pulled out a gun…she was holding Terrina, and he threatened her…ordered her to get in his car. I tried to stop him, and he… hit me with the gun. He took them. "

"How long ago did he take them?"

Nella sat up and touched the back of her head where she bled.

"Maybe thirty…forty minutes ago."

Terry quelled the panic rising in his chest.

"Is there any place you can think of where he would take them other than his family members?"

Nella shook her head.

"Tell me exactly what he said."

"He told Nova she would never leave him. Her or the babies. She pleaded for him to let the children go and just take her, but he wanted them all. Terry…he had this look in his eyes about Terrina. He said she was the reason their family broke up…I think he's going to do something to her to get back at you."

"I need you to wait on calling the police, okay? Can you do that?"

"Yeah."

Nella stood on wobbly legs. He tried calling Jordan's number and heard a ringing sound out near the street. Holding his cell to his ear, he followed the rings and found Jordan's phone near the curb.

"Fuck!" he shouted.

Nella glanced at Nova's phone in his hand and snapped her fingers.

"Wait…wait! Nova's Airtags!" Nella shouted.

She snatched Nova's phone from his hand. The touchscreen still worked.

"She put one in Terrina's car seat. Van-Van should have one stuck in his little zipper pocket on his jeans. She started putting them on the kids as a precaution when she dropped them off at Boppie's house, in case she let Jordan take them somewhere without being watched. She stopped letting them see Terrina, but probably left the tags on them."

Nella swiped the phone and found the Airtag app on Nova's phone.

"See, there they are! They're still on the island."

Terry shook his hands with enthused encouragement and kissed Nella on the forehead.

"Thank you, thank you!"

He grabbed Nova's phone and ran to his truck. The Airtag stopped near an area by the Edisto River. He held the phone up to Nella's face.

"Is there any place by the river that Jordan would possibly go?"

"He never lived here year round, but his family spent summers with us on special occasions."

Precious time ticked on.

"Think, Nella…think!"

Nella's eyes watered, and her lips poked out in concentration.

"The Edisto River…our families used to go fishing there. I never went because I don't like to fish or camp out. They'd rent a treehouse cabin."

"Call Titus or Pauletta and ask them where, and call me on my phone afterward! Do not tell them what's happening or they'll call the police and make things worse. Jordan is dangerous, and he's also a trained sniper."

Terry tore off in his truck and stuck Nova's phone in the holder attached to his dash. He followed Terrina's Airtag timestamps on the phone. Thank God there were other Apple devices nearby to help track the data.

His cell rang. Nella.

"Terry, Titus said they used to rent the cabins at a place called The Edisto Treehouse Retreat. They usually stayed close by the river to launch their paddle boats."

"Got it, I'm headed there. Give me an hour's head start before you call the cops."

He pulled over to switch his phone onto the dash so he could save the battery life of Nova's phone. Punching in the name of the rental cabins, he jetted there on a wing and a prayer. Jordan sought seclusion and privacy. The river was a good place to hold Nova and the children captive without attracting attention.

Since he was only thirty to forty minutes behind Jordan, he prayed to reach them before anything turned grave. He ventured into the more natural parts of Edisto and worried about losing a signal out in the wild. The temperature had dropped, too. Nova had worn a long sleeve shirt and a jean skirt. Terrina only had on a pink cotton onesie and Van-Van wore little jeans and a T-shirt.

"Don't do anything fucking stupid, Jordan," Terry mumbled to himself.

Part 2 of Lick Back 2 HERE.

A.N.:

The painting used in the story was made by the Gullah artist Sonja Griffan Evans. You can find her work at:

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akittenwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Queen of Ice and Prince of Fire [5]

Author: @akittenwrites

Summary: Lady Y/N Stark of Winterfell has declared herself Queen in the North. That means war, against King Viserys, and also against Prince Daemon. But the Rogue Prince doesn't want to fight her.

Type: multichapter series

Chapter: five

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x reader

Word count: 3628

Warnings: swearing, violence.

Part one.

Part two.

Part three.

Part four.

Saying goodbye to her brothers hadn't been easy. It could be the last time she would ever see them yet she had to pretend everything would be alright for their sake.

"Why can't I stay?" Edrick asked her for the umpteenth time. "I am fourteen! I can wield a sword! I must fight!"

Y/N sighed, taking him by his shoulders and leaning down so they could see each other's faces under their cloaks. It was snowing heavily and a thick white blanket covered the ground.

"You can't stay because you are fourteen," she explained, serious. "Also, because you are the future Lord of Winterfell… or King in the North. You must be protected at all costs. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, Edrick."

"So the whole remaining as a pack thing was a lie? You are to stay as a lone wolf to face the dragons."

"The pack will remain together in Bear Island. You must protect your brother and show your strengths as a leader while you are there."

"With the women and children!" he exclaimed.

"Edrick!" she chastised. "There is no dishonor in not engaging in battle. Your duties are different. These people are scared. Scared about losing their parents, their partners, and their children. It is your job to guide them, to show them how to be strong. Can you do that?"

Her little brother nodded.

"Good. Maester Waller will show you how we will distribute this year's harvest. We have to stock up on food for the rest of winter. Watch and learn. Anyone can learn how to wield a sword, but not anyone can be a good leader… or king."

"Alright," he agreed, tears forming in his eyes. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her chest. "I'll miss you, Y/N. Please take care."

Y/N nodded, hiding a few tears of her own. The warm embrace of her brother reminded her why she had to do this.

"We will see each other soon," she answered, before moving on to hug her youngest brother goodbye as well. He was barely eight summers old and didn't fully understand what was going on. He was leaving home for the first time in his life. He had just lost his father and now was parting ways with his sister again. Having spent the past few years in King's Landing, Y/N hoped he didn't have that many memories of them together to miss. Right then, she wished she had a dragon as big as Caraxes to take both her brothers with her as far as she could, to live in peace somewhere else. Away from Westeros, away from winter, away from war.

Reality was cruel.

Once she sent them off, she wiped away her tears and went to find Lord Karstark. Her heart was in pieces, but, what else could she do? They had a war to fight.

Two days later they received a raven from one of their watchmen near Moat Cailin. An army was marching towards Winterfell, a force of approximately thirty thousand men and three dragons. The sudden snow had slowed them down, but they were expected to arrive within ten days. Y/N already knew, though. Her mind and the mind of her direwolf Storm were connected, and she could see flashes of what the wolf was seeing. Caraxes, Meleys, Seasmoke. Daemon. They were lucky so many living dragons remained riderless or were too small for battle… yet King Viserys had managed to raise a substantial army at very short notice. She wondered what he had had to give up for it.

The North had been preparing for a possible war for months, and they only had sixty thousand men. It was enough, though. Twenty thousand would stand in Winterfell. The rest would be stationed further north at the Last Hearth under the command of Lord Umber, awaiting news and orders.

Y/N would stay in Winterfell as well, despite Lord Mormont's protests. She was Queen in the North and she would not cower in Bear Island while sending thousands of men to their deaths. She would die with them if that was her fate. The majority of her army was camping outside the castle, though, while she would remain on the battlements. Whether dragonfire could burn through the double walls was still not decided. No man who could fight would remain inside.

They had built twelve large scorpions and hundreds of bolts, which were now strategically placed on the battlements. Each scorpion had five soldiers assigned, as they had found they could be loaded and fired better with a group of men instead of just one. Archers would be by her side, and the walls of the castle would protect her.

The direwolves were south of Winterfell, in the woods, waiting. She hadn't told anyone but Maester Waller about her dreams, and it had been him that had educated her on the power of warging. And now that she could control all the wolves, could warg into Storm even when awake, and was sure it had been her blood and tears that had brought forth this terrible winter, the Maester was leaving.

She had told him everything, though.

"The Gods have seen your suffering and have granted you the power to win this battle," he had claimed. "The tides have changed. This winter will not hurt us. It is meant to protect us."

She had kept that conversation to herself, still unsure of what would happen. So far the heavy snow had only delayed the dragon army, though, and the cold weather appeared to be bearable.

It was on the ninth day that the army finally reached them. She was in her chambers as her maids helped her with her breastplate when she felt it. Danger. She hurried them as they finished dressing her in her long white fur coat and sent them to hide in the crypts.

She looked at herself in the mirror one last time.

The white fur covered her clothes, sword, and armor, and her white high-heeled boots matched, yet something was missing. Her eyes were then directed to the old crown Lord Karstark had given her. It had been found in an excavation at Castle Black a few months ago and Lord Karstark had claimed it must have belonged to a King in the North, hundreds of years ago.

She put it on her head. It was heavy, forcing her to make an effort to maintain her posture upright, but it looked like it belonged.

Then, she abandoned her chambers, sending for the Lords that would be by her side in this battle and telling the servants to go to the crypts.

When she met with Lord Karstark at the battlements, the sense of danger had become even more pronounced.

"They are here," she told him, looking down as their army assembled outside the castle under Lord Mormont's command. Then images of soldiers wearing red, green, and black started to flash before her eyes.

Lannisters, Hightowers, Baratheons. Kill them all.

The wolves attacked the men, ferocious and without restraint, their fangs tearing them apart. She could hear the screams of terror and pain and smell the men's fear as the wolves dismembered them with ease. Blood was everywhere; the carnage had just begun.

Y/N closed her eyes and focused on what was in front of her, forcing the images of what was happening a few miles away to leave her mind. Then she heard the cries of dragons and cursed under her breath. She couldn't see them because of the snow and the fog, but they were approaching fast and would burn their army to ashes if they weren't ready.

She looked down, seeing the men walk a few steps back as they heard the dragons' screeches as well.

The sky was grey and not a single ray of sunlight made it through.

"Load the scorpions!" she commanded. "We have to be ready to defend the men on foot! Shoot at the fucking dragons! They are big and can't fly high because of the weather, all it takes is one shot to bring them down!"

She ran along the battlements, barking her orders.

"Archers! Shoot at the dragonriders! No mercy, they will have none for you!"

Then she yelled at the men on the ground, making her best effort to be heard.

"Do not walk back! Do not walk back!" She leaned down, the wind carrying her voice. "We are Northerners, we do not fear those fucking flying snakes! The weather is on our side! March forward! Give them no quarters! Slaughter them all!"

She paused to catch her breath, knowing she only had a few seconds before the dragons would become visible in the sky.

"For honor, and for glory! And because today is a good day to die! Show those green knights what real war is!"

Her words were repeated over and over, passed forward until they reached Lord Mormont's ears.

"You heard her!" he roared. "Kill them all!"

The cheers suddenly turned to silence when Caraxes' appeared in the sky, followed by Meleys and Seasmoke. Most of the men in her army had never seen dragons before and the gigantic beasts were beautiful yet menacing. She couldn't blame them for their fear. She was afraid too.

"Wait!" she ordered the men on the battlements.

The dragons were almost upon her army, but they were still out of reach for their bolts and arrows. They were lucky the weather didn't allow them to fly high or they would be dead in seconds with an attack from above. Yet that didn't mean they could be careless; one second of distraction could mean hundreds of men would burn to their deaths.

"Wait!" she commanded one more time, holding her hand up, her grey eyes fixed on the Blood Wyrm. The second Caraxes stretched its head back, readying to burn her men, she yelled again, unsheathing her sword Ice and using it to point forward. "FIRE!!!"

Lord Karstark repeated her words, and so did the soldiers along the battlements.

"FIRE!!!"

Twelve bolts and hundreds of arrows soared through the sky, and she watched as the dragons dodged them with speed and elegance, remaining unharmed. But as long as they had to avoid being impaled by the bolts, they couldn't breathe fire. And that was all she needed.

The soldiers on foot were soon met by the Targaryen army, though it arrived in a disorderly manner, already drenched in blood and sweat, and too agitated to attack properly. The direwolves were responsible, still on the offensive, taking down hundreds with cruelty and brutality.

"Keep firing!" Lord Karstark yelled. "Do not stop to catch your breath!"

Seasmoke, after flying to avoid two bolts, breathed fire all over hundreds of her men, and their screams mixed with the sound of swords clashing.

"Fire at that one!" she ordered the men on the left side of the battlements, pointing her sword at the dragon. It was the smallest and fastest target, which made it harder to aim properly. She walked behind them as she coordinated the attack, wrinkling her nose as the smell of burnt flesh permeated the air. "You go low, you high, you go for the heart, and you for the wings!"

They did as she commanded, the bolts nearly unavoidable for the dragon as one perforated its left wing. It screeched in pain and flew towards them, getting closer and closer to the castle.

"Reload!" she urged. "Do it again!"

The men followed her orders. Every second counted.

"Archers! It's getting close! Fire!"

A multitude of arrows flew toward Seasmoke and hit him everywhere, unable to pierce through the dragon's scales.

"We only made it angry!" one of the archers cried out.

"If you see a blonde head, fucking fire at it!" Y/N answered as Seasmoke was almost at a fire-breathing distance. Lord Karstark was commanding the other side of the battlements, trying to keep the dragons occupied, but she saw Caraxes burning the front lines with no intention of slowing down, not distinguishing friends from enemies.

She had no time to think about that though, Seamoke was almost upon them.

"Get down!!" she ordered, ducking and hiding behind the thick stone walls. The rest of her men did the same, firing the scorpions and throwing themselves to the floor at an impossible speed.

She closed her eyes, awaiting the dragonfire that would at least heat up the stone she was leaning against, but it never came. Instead, a cry from the majestic beast was heard and Y/N stuck her head out to see what was going on. One of the bolts was lodged in the dragon's side, its suffering evident as it lost altitude and slowly flew away from the battle.

She saw her men reloading the scorpions and steering them to take aim at Seasmoke again, a perfect opportunity to finish killing off the beast. Yet she knew deep in her heart it was wrong. Dragons were noble, magical, a fantasy turned reality. She wasn't going to be held responsible for eliminating what little of it still remained in Westeros. Even if they were at war.

"Stop," she ordered, standing up. "Save the bolts. That dragon is already defeated and will not return."

They were displeased. The idea of killing a dragon was probably thrilling but they obeyed her all the same.

Maybe if she hadn't spent so much time with Daemon and Caraxes, the wolf blood coursing through her veins would've encouraged the killing of the beast. Yet that was not the case.

He left part of him in me, she thought, fiddling with the ruby ring.

Y/N looked at the battlefield again, seeing the men locked in battle, some of them running away to avoid the unquenchable fire that had taken down so many of them. Wherever there wasn't fire, blood and dead bodies surrounded those who were still fighting. Chaos reigned.

Daemon had been forced to stop his merciless attack on both sides and back away as Lord Karstark ordered most of the scorpions to focus on Caraxes.

Yet that dragon wasn't the problem at the moment.

She watched as Meleys, who had been attacking the sidelines, suddenly turned around and flew in a straight line toward her and her men. Y/N's eyes locked with Princess Rhaenys' for a split second, before the purple ones turned to her army as she ordered her dragon to burn it.

Laenor's defeat had awakened her wrath.

"Take cover!" Y/N yelled, panicking, sheathing her sword. There was no time to take aim and fire the scorpions.

Meleys was on them in an instant, leaving a trail of fire behind it, and Y/N closed her eyes as she lay on the floor, next to the wall, and awaited the dragonfire. Her crown fell from her head with a clatter yet she made no attempt to recover it.

It had stopped snowing, she noticed, as the snow under her body was melting.

She was going to die. The screams of her men as they burned to their deaths were echoing in her head. What had she done? What had ever made her believe she could fight an army of dragons? She had sent twenty thousand men to their deaths. And after they were done with her, they would annihilate the other forty thousand left.

Meleys roared, directing the fire towards the battlements, rising above them and burning the scorpions right next to her… and the men with them. Y/N slid across the floor, using her elbows to try and get away from the fire, but Rhaenys had already seen her.

And just as Meleys' jaws opened and she was sure she would face her death, great thunder rolled in the sky and it started raining. But it wasn't only water that fell from above.

A shower of hailstones as large as her fists rained down on them, the ice rocks not breaking down as they hit the floor with strong thuds. And suddenly there were hundreds of them. Y/N saw as both Rhaenys and Meleys were taken by surprise by the sudden storm, the dragon flying in circles as its rider attempted to protect herself from the weather.

Y/N stood up, covering her head with her hands, and picked up a shield that belonged to one of the dead. Using it to cover herself, she recovered her crown and ran along the battlements. The confusion allowed her to reach Lord Karstark and the remaining archers.

"What happened to the snow?" she asked as she arrived to his side, and the old man smiled at her, using only his hands to protect his head, not seeming to mind the water running down his face.

A flash of lightning illuminated the sky.

"The Gods deemed it too soft for this battle," he said, raising his voice to be heard above the sound of the stones hitting the ground. "Now, what are you doing holding that with your hand?"

He reached down and took the crown from her, placing it on her head.

"This storm will damage our army as well," Y/N lamented, looking around.

Lord Karstark laughed then, as if she had told him the funniest joke in the world. Y/N frowned, confused.

"What are you laughing at?!"

The old man kept laughing gleefuly as he pointed at her head.

"Leave the shield, Queen Y/N," he grinned. "Winter is on our side."

She slowly put down the shield she was using to cover her head, noticing that as the hailstones rained around them, not a single one touched her. All she received were drops of ice-cold water that soaked her from head to toe.

But the rain didn't bother her.

It was cleansing her.

The blood in her hands, her sins, her fear.

She closed her eyes and let the water run down her face and her body, breathing in the fresh air. Then she raised her hands to her head, trying to figure out what had Lord Karstark in such a good mood.

The crown was cold under the touch of her fingers, and as she slid them against the carved longswords, she realized the parts of it that were missing —the parts of the swords that had been lost to time— had been returned. Her crown was whole again; strong yet delicate ice had replaced the lost pieces as if it had been sculpted by the Gods themselves.

It was now complete, made of metal and ice, as were her weapons against the dragons.

Queen in the North.

Queen of Winter.

Queen of Ice.

She stood straight as she looked at the battlefield, her eyes now glinting with newfound courage and confidence. The dragons were flying around without purpose, and her men were clearly cutting through the Targaryen army now.

"Lord Karstark," she said, looking at the man on her side. "Command the scorpions and arrows we have left. Take down Princess Rhaenys and her dragon. She will strike again as soon as the rain stops."

"What about Daemon Targaryen, Your Grace?" he asked.

"I will deal with him."

Caraxes breathed fire over the armies again. Daemon had managed to gain control of it despite the hailstone rain. Y/N knew he was crazy enough to let himself get hit by the stones over and over instead of backing down.

As he rode his dragon under the storm, her eyes found his. She held his gaze for just a moment before turning around and disappearing from his view.

Her fingers left a trail of ice on the wall as she made her way down the wet stone steps, leaving the battlements. Once she made it to the small hidden west gate, she opened it and left the castle. The battle was only a few yards away, but she wasn't seen because of the castle towers and terrible weather.

Storm was waiting for her, her fur wet with rain and blood.

Y/N caressed her direwolf's back, her fingers disappearing into its light grey fur. The bond they shared had never been as strong as it was right then, and Storm bent down so its back was at the height of Y/N's hips. Following her instincts, she mounted the back of her direwolf just as she had mounted many horses before, her white fur coat covering Storm's back. And then, she held onto her for dear life as she sprinted across the mud, taking her far from the battlefield. She closed her eyes, feeling the wind on her face and the rain on her back, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. It was only a few minutes of euphoria until Storm slowed down and finally stopped.

She opened her eyes in disbelief as she tried to catch her breath. After a few seconds, she dismounted the beast, caressing its back once again. Then, she turned around to look at the sky.

She knew he was coming. He had understood.

Caraxes cried as it flew across the darkened sky at an incredible speed before landing hard in front of her. Its yellow eyes were fixed on her as it stretched its long neck to take a closer look.

Y/N stared back, placing her hands in front of her as she stood tall and fearless.

Daemon's boots touched the ground, and she watched as he made his way toward her.

He stepped from behind one of Caraxes' wings, his silver hair soaked and his black armor shining with red rubies, not unlike the one she wore on her finger.

He walked the few steps that separated them carrying himself with the confidence of a warrior.

----------------------------------

And once again, they found themselves face to face, looking into each other's eyes.

Next part

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princehrry-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Daddy?

happy Easter if you celebrate it!! I've been working on this for a couple weeks!! It's the longest one-shot I think I've ever written.

word count: 5180

please please please flood my inbox with your thoughts and comments!! i want to know what you think!!!

warnings: some swearing (i think), absent birth father, single mom, nothing too serious.

“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.

“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.

“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.

“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”

“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.

“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.

“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her.

Y/n is a single mom and Harry wants to be a part of the family.

Getting pregnant was definitely not something Y/n wanted to be doing at 20 years old. She had a boyfriend and the career of her dreams but as soon as the news broke, one of those things was no longer true. Her ex skipped town faster than she could even finish telling him she was pregnant, so Y/n was left to her own devices since her family was so far away.

She was a songwriter. She had worked with all the big names in the industry from Taylor Swift to All Time Low. She was known for being able to write in any genre, that’s what set her apart and why people were clawing at the chance to work with her.

And then she got pregnant. She kept writing songs until she was eight and a half months along but due to minor complications, her doctor had ordered her to stay home. So she did. She stayed home, had the baby, and raised her all by herself. Now that baby, whose name is Stella, is four years old and is traveling the world with her mom. Y/n had gone back to work when Stella was a year old. At first, she would leave her baby with a sitter, but eventually, she got to a point where Stella was old enough to come along to writing sessions and quietly color or play with toys in a corner. She really liked going to work with her mom. She got to see a bunch of cool places and meet a lot of nice people.

And one of those people was Harry Styles. Y/n had met him a few times back when he was with One Direction, had even tried to work with the band a few times but things never lined up right. But now he was making his second studio album and only wanted the best of the best to write with him so naturally, he called Y/n. Harry knew she had a kid but he didn’t expect her to bring said kid to a writing session. Harry didn’t really mind- he loves kids, but his friends had been known to curse a lot and he didn’t want to cause any harm to the child.

He made sure to give everyone a stern talking to, even though Kid already knew to hold his tongue (his little ones had repeated some colorful words a few times). He wanted everything to go right, needed it to. Y/n was more than just another songwriter.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it!” Harry smiled as she walked into the studio. She smiled back, walking into his open arms for a hug.

“Thank you so much for having me, I’m super stoked to be working with you!” She said, slightly muffled by his neck. Harry looked down behind Y/n and saw a little girl that looked exactly like the woman currently in his arms looking right back up at him. When the two pulled away Harry was quick to kneel down to her height.

“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.

“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.

“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.

“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”

“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.

“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.

“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her. Although he wasn’t mad, he understood Y/n had to teach her not to say things like that even if they were funny.

When Stella had settled at a table out of the way of the adults in the room with her coloring book and a juice box, the work began. Y/n and Harry sat at a piano bench ( he hoped she couldn’t hear his pounding heart) while Kid and Mitch, along with Jeff, sat scattered around the other furniture in the studio.

“So, I have a couple of ideas that I’ve been sitting on that I think you might like. You can look through this and see if there's something that catches your eye.” Y/n said, handing Harry a notebook. She tried to ignore the tingle she felt run up her arm when their fingers brushed. He flipped around the pages, noticing random little doodles in the corners and in between lines, and the somewhat messy but readable handwriting. He thought it was cute how she connected her s’s to her t’s and k’s when she wrote.

One page, in particular, caught his attention.

Golden, Golden, Golden

As I open my eyes

Hold it, focus

So you take me back to the light

I know you were way too bright for me

I’m hopeless, broken

So you wait for me in the sky

Brown my skin just right

“Is this a verse or a chorus?” He asked, pointing it out to her. She shrugged saying she didn’t really know yet but it would probably be a verse.

“I like it a lot,” He said and she smiled, picking up her guitar and strumming it to the tune she had thought of for the words. He listened and nodded along, already getting ideas for where to go next.

“I like the golden thing. I think that could be a good hook, something like we’re so golden,” Kid spoke up, tapping his fingers along to what she was playing.

“Or you’re so golden,” Mitch suggested. Harry and Y/n’s eyes widened at the same time, both looking up at each other when they heard the line.

“You’re so golden, you’re so golden…” Y/n hummed.

“I’m out of my head, and I know what you said about hearts get broken,”

“How about I’m out of my head and I know that you’re scared because hearts get broken,”

“I like that better, yeah!” Harry smiled, nodding along to the beat.

Y/n looked over 30 minutes later to see Stella had sprawled out on the floor with her arms folded beneath her head, first finger stuck into her mouth, and she smiled, breathing out a laugh.

“She’s so precious,” Harry murmured from beside you. Your gaze found his and the smile on your face widened a little bit.

“She is, isn’t she.” She said, pride present in her eyes.

“Looks just like you as well,”

“Yeah thank god, I don’t know what I would have done if she had ended up looking like her sperm donor,” Malice dripped from the end of her phrase. Y/n couldn’t even entertain the idea of her looking like the man who helped create her. That nerve was still a little raw, not because she had any remaining feelings, but because he had abandoned not only her but the beautiful baby girl who was napping not 15 feet away from her. She figured they were better off without him, yet her heart always shattered a little when Stella asked if she had a daddy like the people she sees on tv.

“I couldn’t imagine finding out the woman I loved was pregnant and then leaving her, any real man would have stayed.” His eyes were genuine, which she appreciated. Most people would say they felt sorry for her, pity dripping from their gaze, but she didn’t need pity, didn’t need people to feel sorry for her. But what Harry said was out of pity, he just honestly couldn’t understand how anyone would abandon a child.

“Yeah well, I guess I just wasn’t the woman he loved.” She said, looking back at her baby. Stella made all of that pain from when he disappeared worth it.

Harry wanted to be able to take that pain away.

---

“Hey I know it’s late, but I have this idea and I want you to hear it,” Harry’s raspy voice chimed through the speaker of Y/n’s phone. She glanced at the time, reading 1:30 AM, and sighed.

“Ok,”

“Come open the door,” He said.

“Wait what? You’re here?”

“Yeah, come on. It’s cold out here.”

“Ugh, hold on,” The woman sighed, hanging up and tip-toeing out of her room so her footsteps wouldn’t wake the sleeping four-year-old in the next room over. Her door was open and she was a light sleeper.

The door swung open and Harry stood there with a small smile on his face, burrowing as deep into his coat as he could to shield himself from the cold air outside.

“Hi!” His cheeky smile made Y/n’s heart flutter.

This was the first of many times he would show up at her place in the middle of the night.

---

Another night of Harry coming over late with a song idea he couldn’t wait to show Y/n, although now it was more he would come over after Stella fell asleep and the two would watch movies and talk, and sometimes write songs (even though the album was done).

The pair were perched on the couch in a heated conversation about whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza (it does and that is a fact not an opinion) when the sound of little footsteps caught their attention. They both looked up from where they sat at the sound of loud crying coming down the stairs, seeing a small child with tears barreling down her face, cheeks flush an angry red, first finger stuck in her mouth, teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest.

“Baby what’s wrong?” Y/n cooed, getting up and sweeping her into her arms. She went and sat back down on the couch, cradling the baby to her chest, brushing her hair out of her face, and rocking her back and forth.

“Scawwy dweam mommy,” She hiccuped into her mom’s neck, where she hid her face. Her tiny hands clutched onto her shirt, finger stick tucked between her lips.

Harry held back a coo at the little girl, feeling himself fall further and further for the little family of two sitting before him. He hadn’t been able to take his mind off of them since that first day he met Stella. He’d always had a schoolboy crush on Y/n since they first met all those years ago but knew it was one-sided when she introduced her boyfriend one of the last times they had seen each other. As fate would have it though, they found their way back to each other. Neither of them could deny the feelings they held, but Y/n was scared to bring someone into the picture because she didn’t want Stella to get attached to someone who wouldn’t be permanent. She was lucky her ex left before he ever got the chance to meet Stella, the kid had no clue what she was missing, therefore didn’t have any pain due to her absent father.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t imagine Harry stepping into that role. But she couldn’t ask that of him. He was at a time in his career where he didn’t have time to be the father of a four year old.

But life is full of surprises.

“Hawwy.” The baby whimpered and crawled off of Y/n’s chest, into his lap and snuggled her head right into him like it was where she was meant to be all along. His heart just about burst when the little girl fisted his shirt, tucking herself into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, cradling her into him and rocking her back and forth like her mother had been only moments ago.

Stella calms down almost immediately, to Y/n’s surprise. It usually takes her a while to console her baby from bad dreams, but all Harry had to do was hold her, and boom, no more tears.

“You alright petal?” He cooed into her hair, soothing his hand up and down her back to keep her calm. She nodded, letting out a huge yawn and closing her eyes, falling back asleep in his arms.

Y/n was astonished. Stella had never fallen asleep on anyone but her mom or her grandmother. She’s known Harry for a few months and was acting like he’d been there her whole life.

“Wow… she loves you.” Y/n whispered, not really meaning for him to hear but he did and his smile gave her the impression that he loved her too. But Stella wasn’t the only one he felt such affections for.

“Y/n....” He starts after a moment of silence, “I know this sounds crazy because we’ve only truly known each other for a few months… but I’ve had feelings for you for years. I missed my opportunity when you got with your ex but I’m here now, and I love you, and I love Stella, and I would do anything to stay in both of your lives if you’d have me. I want to be here for you, and I want to be here for her as well.” His confession shocked the woman sitting across from him.

Y/n was quiet, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought while she took in what he was saying. Trying her best to keep her fantasies of playing house with him at bay, she spoke.

“Harry, as much as all of that sounds lovely, you’re about to start press for the album and then go on tour. You’re not gonna have time to be in a relationship, and as much as I wish I could just jump into something like that, I can’t. I have her to think about…” She gestured to the toddler sleeping on him.

“She needs consistency, her life is already hectic enough.”

“So come with me!” He spouted, and then retracted a bit realizing he could wake Stella up.

“What?”

“Come with me! You two travel around already, so come on the press tour with me and then come on the big tour with me! I know this sounds impulsive and it’s probably the craziest thing I’ve ever said in my life ever, but I’ve never been more sure of anything. I know what I want Y/n, and that’s to be a part of this family. I want to be a part of your lives!”

“Harry, I-”

“Please Y/n. Give me a chance! I won’t let you down!” The gleam in his eyes shows her that he’s serious. He really does want this. Harry just hopes that Y/n can see just how willing he is, how much it would mean to him to have (what he already affectionately considers to be) his girls with him on tour.

It’s quiet, only sounds of Stella’s even breaths and the light noise of her sucking on her finger fill the room. Eventually, Y/n gathers her thoughts, mind made up.

“We’ll try it out… see how it goes….” She said, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding on to. Harry’s smile grew tenfold at her confession, reaching over and bringing her face closer to his to kiss her lips, careful not to wake the baby in his arms.

He had never been happier, Harry decides, than he is right now.

---

“Hawwy?” Stella’s voice catches Y/n’s attention from where she sits on the plane, in between her and Harry. She turns her little head to the man sitting in the aisle seat, big round eyes staring right into his.

“What is it, lovebug?” He asks, pushing her wild baby hairs away from her eyes. Y/n did her very best not to coo at the two of them. Harry had fallen perfectly into step with the mother and daughter, like this duo had been a trio all along. She was still hesitant to think of him as a father figure for Stella though, just because if things went south somehow, she didn’t want her baby suffering a loss like that (a second time).

Stella’s little fists rubbed at her tired eyes. She let out a small ‘hmph’ and laid her head on Harry’s arm, wrapping her own little arms around his.

“Awe you my daddy?” She asked and Y/n choked on her spit, looking back over at the toddler.

“Stella, baby-”

“I would love to be your daddy lovebug, but that’s not really up to me…” He spoke and glanced up at Y/n quickly, trepidation clear in his eyes. Harry was afraid he might overstep. Sure he knew that things were still new between him and Y/n but he wanted nothing more than for Stella to think of him as her dad.

“Who’s it up to?” Y/n could tell she was about to fall asleep but was fighting it in order to get her answers. She had adjusted to a more fast pace schedule quite nicely. She slept through most plane and car rides and absolutely loved being backstage at concerts. Harry thought she looked so adorable with her big noise-canceling headphones on. They had been on the road for a few months now, and it had been 8 months since Y/n decided to give him a chance.

“It’s up to mummy, baby.” He answered, his fingers tangling into his chestnut curls in a futile attempt to keep them out of his face.

Stella’s head immediately whipped to look at her mom, who sat frozen in her seat, not knowing what to do.

“Mommy, is Hawwy my daddy?” She repeated her question. Y/n had a feeling that Stella thought Harry was her real dad, the one that her mom didn’t like to talk about. She had to make sure there was no confusion.

“Not like you're thinking he is, baby. He’s not your birth dad, he didn’t help mommy make you, but if you want him to be your daddy, then that’s ok with me.” Y/n locked eyes with the man sitting across from her with a smile on his face. She was glad that they were flying private because she really didn’t need anyone ruining this moment for them. All her fears of this not working out felt stupid now.

How could she ever think that things with Harry wouldn’t work out? He was right where he belonged.

---

“Daddy!”

“Baby!” Harry knelt down to catch the running (almost) 5 year old, picking her up and spinning her around in his arms. They were in England for two weeks on tour. One for shows, and one so that Y/n and Stella could meet Harry’s mom and sister for the first time as a part of the family. Y/n had met them before as “a friend of Harry’s” many years ago, but they had never met her as Harry’s girlfriend, and they hadn’t met Stella.

Currently, Harry was in the middle of a show and Stella had just escaped her mothers arms side stage in favor of running to her dad. Y/n still couldn’t get over saying that. Harry is Stella’s dad. She doesn’t think that will ever get old.

No one knew how serious the relationship between Y/n and Harry was. The public knew they were together (after a very vague post on instagram of the mother/daughter duo napping with the caption “my girls”). Many people thought this was a PR stunt, just because it was so unlike Harry to post something like that. But he had actually confirmed in an interview that, yes, he was in a relationship with the songwriter and it was pretty serious. That was all he chose to say, in favor of keeping his secrecy, as he so famously loves to do.

What came as a shock to the audience was what the child had called Harry. They all knew about Stella, obviously, but no one would have thought that this child would think of him as her father. A lot of people didn’t like thinking about Harry being a father.

“What are you doing out here baby?” He said into her ear, making sure he could hear her over the loud noise of the audience. Most of them loved getting glimpses into his life, so the crowd was excited to see Stella out on stage and many thought it was adorable that she already thought of him as her dad.

“Missed you.” She said into his neck. The microphone had somehow picked up their little exchange and the whole crowd sighed a collective “awe” when she said that. She was perched on his hip with her little arms wrapped around his neck, her favorite place if she had to choose one. She was pretty small for a 4-year-old, most people usually thought she was younger.

Harry chuckled and saw Y/n standing there with a smile on her face. Mitch was giggling at the exchange and kept glancing back at Sarah with a knowing look of “That’s going to be us soon,” written on his face.

“I missed you too lovebug, but I’m in the middle of a show! I gotta send you back to mumma.” He said. Stella didn’t like that though, because as soon as the words left his lips she was clinging to him like he was her life force and the tears began streaming down her face. She didn’t like having to share her daddy. She just wanted to be held by him right now, and she’d be damned if she got anything but her way.

This amused everyone, the child's insistence to be in her father's arms, so he sighed and bent to her will because how could he say no to his baby girl?

So he walked over to her mom and got her headphones, slipping them on her, and walked back to his microphone with her on his hip, ready to start the next song.

“Harry and Stella” was trending on twitter the very next morning. No one could get enough of the father-daughter duo.

---

Y/n hadn’t been this nervous since she was about to give birth to Stella. She stood with her baby in her arms as Harry opened the door to his childhood home, announcing to his mom and sister that they were there. She had to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans more than once.

Anne rushed out from wherever she had been, greeting the three of them. Stella had met Anne via FaceTime many times so it was not news to her (or Gemma) that Harry had stepped into the role of Stella’s father. She will admit she was surprised at first but then she was reminded that Harry had been in their lives for almost a year before Stella had asked the question. It wasn’t something that was rushed into.

Anne was very excited to be meeting her grandbaby and was very excited to meet the girl that had made her a grandmother.

Stella got shy, not being used to seeing “Nana” in person. Gemma had emerged from her spot in the kitchen as well, greeting everyone.

“Hello, my loves! How was the trip?” Anne said, kissing both of them on the cheek, her hand gently caressing the child's cheek in an attempt to get her out of her shell. Once she realized that this was her Nana that was standing before her, Stella reached out for Anne, silently asking to be held by her. Anne jumped at the chance, sweeping the baby into her arms and giving her a big hug, kissing her on the forehead multiple times, not being able to quell her affection for her first grandchild.

“It was good mum, Stell slept the whole way and traffic was pretty light,” Harry said, slipping his hand into his girlfriend’s, brushing his thumb back and forth trying to help calm her anxieties. For whatever reason, Y/n was worried that Gemma and Anne wouldn’t like her because she had come into their son/brother's life with a child, but it was clear that the two ladies loved the idea of Harry being Stella’s father.

“Oh, that's lovely!” She smiled, cuddling Stella impossibly closer to her. Y/n felt most of her worries melt away seeing the woman with her baby.

She felt silly for thinking Anne would be anything but happy.

---

Anne would not put Stella down for anything. The two were attached at the hip every waking second. Y/n was actually starting to miss her baby, but she appreciated getting to spend time with Harry without having to keep an eye on their little one. Gemma was absolutely smitten with Stella as well. She was very excited to be “Auntie Gem” as Stella had quickly adapted to calling her. Stella was very happy as well. She had never been around so much family in her whole life. She’d been so used to just her and her mom, and then just them and Harry, but now she had two whole grandma’s all to herself and an auntie she gets to call her own, something she never knew she was missing, that Y/n never thought her baby would get to have.

Harry was so happy to see his baby with Anne and Gemma. They had been bumped to spot number 3 and 4 on his favorite girl list, with Stella and Y/n taking spots 1 and 2. They didn’t mind one bit.

“Daddy, can we watch a movie?” Stella jumped up onto his lap as he and Y/n sat on the couch, just talking and enjoying each other's company. Y/n smiled at the girl, tightening her grip around Harry’s shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“Of course we can lovebug! Go get Nana and auntie Gem and we’ll all pick one out together!” He replied, petting her wild baby hairs out of her eyes just like he always did.

“Auntie Gemma said to ask you if we could watch…” She paused for a second, her little finger tapping on her chin like she couldn’t remember what she was gonna say. Suddenly, she was up and running back to the hallway she had just come from. Y/n and Harry heard little whispers before she came running back out and plopped back onto Harry’s lap, on ‘oof’ erupting from him.

“This Is Us!” She finally said. Harry’s face dropped as he looked behind them to see Gemma standing there, trying to hold back her laughter. Y/n just started cackling and Stella was giggling even though she had no idea what was going on.

“Daddy’s in that movie baby,” Y/n finally calmed down enough to say to her daughter. The little one’s eyes lit up, her hands clasped underneath her chin. This was what she did when she wanted her daddy to say yes to her because she knew he couldn’t resist how adorable she was.

“Please please please!!!!!!” She whined, leaning in to place her forehead against Harry’s. She knew exactly how to get him. He caved every single time.

“Yeah, fine. We can watch it!” He finally said and all three girls cheered. Anne came in at the noise wondering what was going on.

“What’s all this?” She asked and Stella ran up to her, pulling on her

“We watching Daddy’s movie Nana!” She said, jumping up and down with a glowing beam on her face.

“Oh, are we now? Which one?” Anne asked and Stella paused.

“Daddy, how many movies awe you in?” She came back and crawled into his lap. She still had trouble saying her r’s. Her and Harry were working on it.

“Two, lovebug. But one of them you can’t watch until you’re older. It’s too scary f’you.” He said, cuddling his baby into his chest. She put on a little pout hearing that. She didn’t like when her daddy told her no, but this was something he wasn’t gonna budge on.

“Ok,” She sighed. All the adults thought this was adorable.

So they all settled in and watched the movie. Harry had a permanent blush on his face and Stella would jump up and down every time he was on the screen.

“Nana look!! That’s you!!” Anne laughed and nodded to her granddaughter.

“Yes, it is baby!”

“Mommy, why aren’t you in this movie?” She asked and everyone giggled.

“Me and Daddy didn’t know each other very well back then, baby.” Y/n laughed. Stella didn’t really understand but she didn’t say anything else.

The last few days had worn her out and that became very obvious when Harry looked down and saw his baby asleep on his chest, her first finger stuck in her mouth just like it always was when she fell asleep.

“Love, I’m gonna go lay her down, and then I’ll be right back,” Harry whispered, cradling the sleeping girl in his arms and slowly standing up. Y/n nodded, kissing his cheek before he left.

“He’s so good with her!” Gemma cooed, her face lighting up seeing her brother with his kid. A sight she was still kind of getting used to seeing.

“He really is…” Y/n smiled, “It was pretty instant too. Anytime he’d come over and she was still awake, he’d insist on putting her to bed, reading to her, singing to her, he’d bring her toys. She’s had him wrapped around her little finger since he first laid eyes on her.”

“That’s so precious,” Anne spoke up, coming to sit next to her, wrapping Y/n in her warm embrace.

“I can’t wait until you two get married!” Y/n laughed at Gemma’s confession, snuggling into Anne.

“All he has to do is ask, I’m ready to say yes!” What none of the girls knew was that Harry was standing right outside the living room, hearing everything that was being said. His mind raced back to his suitcase where a velvet box sat tucked away between all of his clothes.

He was hesitant to bring the idea up because it had only been a year, but the saying when you know, you know he thought.

He came back into the living room, acting none the wiser, sitting on the other side of the girl he was going to marry (she just didn’t know it yet), and cuddled into her just as she had cuddled into his mom.

“Daddy,” A small voice broke through the now quiet hum of the tv.

“Lovebug, what are you doing back up?” He asked, lifting the sleepy little thing into his lap.

“Scawwy dweam, daddy.” She said and he pouted, pulling her closer into his chest and snuggling her back to sleep.

Harry was exactly where he belonged in life. With his baby girl in his arms, and his Love by his side.

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