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the text. tiffany stratton. language of love series.
tiffany stratton x girlfriend!reader
words of affirmation
The suitcase sat open on the bed, somehow looking twice as full as it had an hour earlier. You leaned against the bedroom door with your arms folded, watching Tiffany zip another jacket into the already overstuffed case before immediately unzipping it again. "I don't think that's going to fit," you said.
"It literally will."
"It literally won't."
She shot you an offended look over her shoulder. "You have absolutely no faith in me."
"I have faith in you," you corrected with a grin. "I don't have faith in the laws of physics."
"They're more like... suggestions."
You laughed quietly as she attempted to sit on top of the suitcase to force it closed. It worked for approximately three seconds before the zip protested and split back open just enough to undo all her hard work.
"There." She pointed triumphantly at it. "It closed."
"It reopened."
"It was closed."
"For a moment."
"Still counts."
You shook your head, crossing the room to help before she declared war on the poor suitcase. "Move."
She narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
"I've watched you fight this thing for fifteen minutes."
"I was winning."
"You were absolutely not."
"You don't know that."
You gently pushed her aside, ignoring the dramatic gasp she let out as though you'd committed the greatest betrayal imaginable. Folding one hoodie slightly differently and shifting a pair of trainers to the opposite side was all it took before the zip slid effortlessly around the case. You looked up. "There."
Tiffany stared. "...I hate that."
"You should."
"I was literally about to do that."
"Mhm."
"I was."
"You definitely were."
She stepped forward anyway, wrapping both arms around your waist from behind before resting her chin against your shoulder. "I would've figured it out."
“Eventually”
"I don't like your attitude."
"I know."
"You should apologise."
"For what?"
"For doubting me."
You turned your head just enough to catch the exaggerated pout she was wearing. "I'm not apologising."
She sighed dramatically. "This relationship is so toxic for me."
"Oh, is it?"
"Mhm."
"You seem alright."
"I've suffered immensely."
You laughed again, reaching up to smooth a strand of blonde hair back behind her ear. "You're going to survive five days."
She wrinkled her nose. "I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it."
Neither of you did. Tour weeks weren't exactly rare anymore. They'd figured out how to make the constant travel work months ago, settling into a rhythm of airports, FaceTimes, hotel rooms and hurried reunions whenever your schedules finally lined up again. It wasn't ideal. But it was yours. You stepped out of her hold so she could finally close the suitcase properly, and she immediately wandered over to your wardrobe instead. "...Tiffany."
"What?"
"What are you doing?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she pulled one of your oversized hoodies from its hanger with suspicious confidence.
"Tiff."
"What?"
"That's mine."
"I know."
"So..."
"So..."
You watched as she folded it with absolutely no intention of putting it back.
"You already packed."
"I found room."
"You absolutely did not."
"I'll make room."
"You own hoodies."
"I own hoodies," she agreed. "I don't own your hoodie."
You laughed through your nose. "You stole my grey one last month."
"I borrowed it."
"You never gave it back."
"Because you looked so happy letting me keep it."
"I don't remember that."
"I do."
She tucked it neatly into the suitcase before you could stop her. "There."
"You know that's my favourite one."
"I know."
"You are unbelievable."
"I know." She smiled far too sweetly to feel even slightly guilty. "You smell nice."
"You can't steal my clothes because I smell nice."
"I absolutely can."
"No, you can't."
"I literally just did."
You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling despite yourself. "You are the worst."
"And yet..." She walked back over until there was barely any space left between you. "...you adore me."
"I tolerate you."
"Liar."
Her hands found yours automatically, fingers weaving together so naturally neither of you seemed to think about it anymore.
The apartment had fallen strangely quiet. The suitcase was packed. Her phone buzzed on the bedside table with another reminder that she should already be leaving if she wanted to beat traffic to the airport. Neither of you reached for it. Tiffany looked down at your joined hands before gently swinging them once. "I'll call you tonight."
"I know."
"And tomorrow."
"I know."
"And probably three more times before I actually go to sleep."
"I know."
"You sound thrilled."
"I am."
"You don't look thrilled."
You smiled softly. "I'm just going to miss you." The honesty slipped out before you could dress it up into something lighter.
Her expression softened immediately. "I'll miss you too."
"I know."
She leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before resting hers against yours. "Five days."
"It'll go quickly."
"It always does."
There was another buzz from her phone. She sighed. "I hate responsible people."
"You are responsible people."
"I know." She groaned. "It's exhausting."
You reached past her to pick up her phone before slipping it into the pocket of her jacket. "Come on."
She made absolutely no effort to move. Instead she wrapped both arms around you again, burying her face into your shoulder. "No."
"Tiff..."
"No."
"You have a flight."
"I've decided not to go."
"Oh?"
"Mhm."
"I'm sure WWE will understand."
"They should."
"They definitely won't."
"They'll survive."
You smiled into her hair. "You are so dramatic."
"I've been told." Eventually she let you go with the kind of exaggerated reluctance only Tiffany could pull off. You followed her downstairs, suitcase wheels clattering over every tiny crack in the pavement until the waiting car came into view. The driver climbed out to load her luggage into the boot while Tiffany lingered beside you instead. She took both of your hands again. "I'll text you when I land."
"You always do."
"I'll FaceTime tonight."
"You always do."
She tilted her head. "You make me sound predictable."
"You are predictable."
"I prefer reliable."
"I'll give you that."
She smiled, satisfied with the compromise. You squeezed her hands once before letting them slip away. "You'll be too busy to miss me anyway." The words left your mouth so casually you barely registered saying them. It was only after they landed that you noticed Tiffany's smile disappear. Not dramatically, just enough.
Her brows pulled together in the smallest frown. "What?"
"You'll be busy," you repeated with a shrug. "Shows, media, travelling..."
She looked at you for another second, almost like she was trying to work out whether you actually believed what you'd just said.
Then she stepped back into your space. "No."
You blinked. "No?"
"No." She reached up, brushing her thumb lightly across your cheek. "I'll be busy." Another gentle stroke of her thumb. "I'll also miss you." She smiled, softer now. "Those things aren't mutually exclusive."
You felt a small warmth spread through your chest despite yourself. "I know."
"I don't think you do."
Before you could answer, she leaned in and kissed you, slow enough to make the airport deadline worth risking, gentle enough to settle every frantic thought that had started bubbling beneath the surface the moment you'd watched her zip that suitcase shut. When she finally pulled away, she rested her forehead against yours one last time. "I'll see you in a couple weeks."
"You'd better."
"I always keep my promises."
The driver cleared his throat politely from beside the car. Tiffany sighed dramatically towards the sky. "He's ruining my moment."
You laughed. "I think he's trying to stop you missing your flight."
"Details." She squeezed your hand one final time before climbing into the back seat. You stood on the pavement until the car disappeared around the corner, lifting a hand when she waved through the window. Only once it had vanished completely did you turn back towards the apartment. The silence greeted you before you even unlocked the door. It was funny how somewhere could feel so much bigger after one person left.
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The apartment stayed quiet in a way you never quite got used to. Not empty. Just missing something. You noticed it most in the evenings, when there was no voice drifting in from another room, no half finished conversation carried through the walls, no blonde whirlwind stealing your blanket before claiming she'd been there first.
The first morning wasn't so bad. You woke up out of habit, reached for the other side of the bed, and smiled to yourself when your hand found nothing but cold sheets. Your phone was already waiting on the bedside table.
Tiff Landed!!
The hotel room is ugly.
Miss you already.
A second message arrived before you'd even opened the first.
Also they gave me weird tiny pillows.
You laughed quietly.
You Your priorities are incredible.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
I know. Call you later?
The first couple of days slipped by in the comfortable rhythm you'd built over months of travelling. Good morning texts, pictures of airport coffees, faceTimes from hotel rooms while Tiffany sat cross-legged on an unmade bed, still wearing half her gear because she'd been too excited to call you before changing. Sometimes she'd ramble about a match, sometimes you'd tell her about your day, sometimes neither of you said much at all.
Just having her there, even through a screen, was enough. It worked. Until it didn't.
Wednesday started with your laptop crashing. Not freezing, crashing, completely. You stared blankly at the black screen before trying the power button again, nothing. "...Seriously?"
After three increasingly desperate attempts, it finally flickered back to life. Only for the document you'd spent all morning working on to announce it couldn't be recovered.
You closed your eyes. It was fine, annoying. But fine, you'd rewrite it.
An hour later you knocked your coffee clean across the kitchen counter while reaching for your phone. The mug somehow missed everything except the notebook you'd been using. Dark liquid soaked through the pages almost immediately. "Oh, come on." You snatched it up far too late. The ink bled into soft grey streaks before your eyes, perfect.
By Thursday afternoon the rewritten work still wasn't finished because another email had landed asking for unexpected revisions. Nothing impossible. Just enough to push everything back. You rubbed your eyes at your desk, blinking away the ache beginning to build behind them. Your stomach growled. You glanced at the clock. Half past three. You'd forgotten lunch, again.
"I'll eat in a minute."
You didn't.
That evening Tiffany called while walking through the corridors of another hotel. The camera bounced with every step. "I swear every hallway looks exactly the same."
You smiled. "I think they buy them in bulk."
"They literally do." She pushed open her room door before dramatically collapsing backwards onto the bed. "I'm exhausted."
"You wrestled."
"I know."
"You travelled."
"I know."
"You've been awake since...?"
"Four."
"You should sleep."
"I wanted to talk to you."
Something warm settled in your chest. "I appreciate the sacrifice."
"I know you do." She propped her phone against a water bottle so both hands were free, immediately beginning the complicated process of removing enough bobby pins to qualify as a construction project. You watched her work and she watched you watching her. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You've got your thinking face."
"I don't have a thinking face."
"You absolutely do."
"I don't."
"You squint."
"I do not."
"You've literally been squinting at me for the last thirty seconds."
You hadn't even realised. Your expression softened into something closer to a smile. "I'm just tired."
"Mhm." She didn't sound convinced. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Just one of those weeks."
"What happened?"
You hesitated. "My laptop died."
She gasped dramatically. "No."
"I lost some work."
She frowned. "That sucks."
"I spilled coffee everywhere."
"Baby."
"And work's been a bit... annoying."
"You've eaten though?"
"...Yeah."
The lie came too quickly. Tiffany tilted her head. "You hesitated."
"I didn't."
"You literally did."
"I just had to think."
"You had to think whether you'd eaten lunch?"
You looked away from the screen. "...Maybe."
She sighed. "You forgot."
"Maybe."
"You definitely forgot."
"I got distracted."
"You always get distracted."
"I know."
There wasn't any judgement in her voice. Only concern. "You need to eat."
"I will."
"Now."
"I'll make something after we hang up."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
She studied your face for another second before nodding. "Good."
The conversation drifted onto lighter things after that. Chelsea had accidentally locked herself out of her rental car. Someone had hidden one of Tiffany's boots before the show. Nick had somehow managed to keep a straight face through the entire thing. By the time you said goodnight, you genuinely felt lighter. That was the thing about Tiffany. She somehow made everything seem manageable simply by talking to you.
Friday morning started with doomscrolling. A mistake. You knew it was. Still, you found yourself lying in bed, absentmindedly flicking through social media before you'd even properly opened your eyes. One comment caught your attention. Then another, then another, most people were kind. They always were. But every now and then someone said something that lodged itself somewhere it shouldn't. It wasn't even particularly creative. Just dismissive. Questioning your work. Questioning why anyone cared. You knew better than to take strangers seriously, you closed the app.
Made breakfast, washed the dishes, started work.
And somehow the words followed you anyway.
That night Tiffany called from the airport. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. No makeup, grey hoodie, she looked tired. Beautiful. But tired.
"There you are."
"There I was."
"I thought you'd abandoned me."
"I considered it."
"Rude." She smiled anyway. "What've you been up to?"
"Oh... not much."
"Work?"
"Mhm."
"How'd it go?"
"It got done."
"You don't sound very enthusiastic."
"I'm just tired."
"You've said that every day this week."
You looked down at your lap. "I guess I have."
She was quiet for a moment. Not awkwardly. Just thinking. "You sure you're okay?"
You nodded automatically. "I'm okay." It came so easily. The familiar answer. The safe answer. "I'm just looking forward to you coming home."
Her smile returned. "I'm looking forward to coming home too." A boarding announcement echoed through the terminal behind her. She grimaced. "That's me."
"Go."
"I don't want to."
"I know."
"I'll call you tomorrow?"
"You always do."
"I always will."
You smiled. "I know."
She blew you a kiss before the screen disappeared. You stared at the now-dark display for another few seconds before setting your phone beside you on the sofa. The apartment fell silent again.
For the first time all week the silence didn't just feel lonely.
It felt loud.
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You didn't expect the silence to bother you quite so much. By Saturday evening, you should have been used to it. You should have settled into the routine by now. Instead, the apartment seemed quieter than it had all week. The television filled the room with meaningless background noise while your laptop sat open on the coffee table in front of you, the cursor blinking patiently at the end of a sentence you'd rewritten four times.
You stared at it. Deleted it. Tried again. Deleted that too. Your phone buzzed. Without thinking, your hand reached for it.
Tiff Baby :(
You smiled despite yourself.
You Hi.
The typing bubble appeared immediately. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Flight got delayed.
You frowned.
Again?
Yep. Been sitting at the gate for nearly two hours.
You imagined her exactly as she always was during delays, legs tucked underneath herself in an airport chair, expensive headphones around her neck, complaining to absolutely anyone who would listen.
Poor you.
I know.
I'm incredibly brave.
You laughed quietly.
The bravest.
Three dots appeared. Then stopped. Then started again.
I was gonna FaceTime but the airport Wi-Fi keeps dying.
It's okay.
I'll call when I land.
You looked back towards the untouched document on your laptop.
Don't worry about it.
She replied almost instantly.
I always worry about it.
Before you could answer, another message arrived.
Actually...
Then another.
Give me a second.
You frowned. The typing bubble stayed there. Longer than normal. Long enough that you assumed she was being interrupted. Then your phone vibrated again. Not once. Three times. Four. Five. One enormous message filled your screen.
I know you've been saying you're okay all week. And maybe you are. But I also know you. So just in case your brain's being mean to you today, here's a few things I'd like to remind you of.
You blinked. Your thumb hovered over the screen. Then you kept reading.
You always make enough dinner for two, even when I'm away, because you say leftovers taste better than cooking twice. You apologise to tables when you walk into them. You still laugh at your own jokes before you've finished telling them. You remember everybody's birthdays without putting them in your calendar. You somehow know exactly where everything I lose is, even when I swear I've already looked there. You leave the last bite of dessert for me every single time. You don't even think about it anymore. You just do it.
Your chest tightened. The smile on your face had softened into something much smaller. Much more fragile.
The message continued.
You always stop to wave at dogs. You thank bus drivers. You still get excited when the moon looks particularly pretty. You make every hotel room feel less lonely just by answering the phone. You celebrate my wins like they're bigger than your own. You've never once made me feel like I had to earn being loved.
A lump settled stubbornly in your throat. You swallowed around it.
There was more. So much more.
Not generic compliments, Not things anyone could have written, Things Tiffany had noticed, tiny pieces of you that you'd never imagined anyone was paying attention to.
You make people feel important. You make me feel safe enough to be completely myself. You make ordinary days my favourite ones. Home stopped being a place a long time ago. Now it's just wherever you happen to be.
Your vision blurred, you blinked quickly. It didn't help.
The final few lines were shorter. Almost like she'd thought about them the longest.
I know you don't always see yourself the way I do. So until you can borrow my eyes.
A tear slipped down your cheek before you realised it had escaped. You laughed quietly at yourself, wiping it away with the sleeve of your hoodie. One last line waited at the bottom.
And tomorrow, if your brain starts lying to you again...
Read this again.
You stared at the screen. Read it again. Then immediately scrolled back to the top, slower this time. You pictured Tiffany sitting in a noisy airport terminal, surrounded by delayed flights and strangers rushing past, taking the time to type every single word.
No. Not type. You knew her. This wasn't something she'd thrown together while waiting to board. There was no way someone came up with details like you apologise to tables in five minutes. You could almost picture her adding to it over time. A note in her phone, a sentence here, another there. Every time she caught you doing something that made her smile. The thought made your chest ache.
Your phone buzzed again.
Tiff Don't overanalyse how long it took me to write that. Your eyebrows lifted. She knew you far too well. Another message appeared before you could reply.
Just let me love you, okay? ❤️
You looked back down at the message she'd sent. Then at the little heart sitting underneath it. For the first time all week the apartment didn't feel quite so empty.
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Sunday morning arrived quietly.
You woke before your alarm. For a few blissfully unaware seconds, everything felt normal. Then your eyes landed on the empty side of the bed, right. Another day. You reached for your phone almost on instinct. Not because there were any new notifications. Because you wanted to read it again. Your thumb found Tiffany's conversation without thinking. The message was still there, stretching far enough down the screen that the tiny "Read more" prompt had long since disappeared.
You started from the top. By the time you reached the end you realised your shoulders weren't sitting quite as high as they had when you'd woken up. The knot in your chest had loosened.
Only a little. But enough.
Enough was something.
The day didn't magically improve. Your laptop still chose the worst possible moments to freeze, work still demanded revisions you hadn't expected, the washing machine started making a noise that definitely hadn't been there before, life continued exactly as it always had. The only difference was now, whenever your thoughts started turning against you, you knew where to go.
Monday afternoon. Your inbox pinged. Another email. Another request for changes. You read the first sentence. Felt that familiar frustration creeping up your spine. Before your brain could finish constructing all the reasons why you weren't good enough your phone was already in your hand. One tap.
Tiff
You didn't even read the whole thing this time.
Your eyes landed halfway down.
You make people feel important.
You stared at the sentence for a few seconds.
Then locked your phone. Took a breath. Opened your laptop again. The revisions suddenly didn't feel quite so impossible.
Tuesday evening. The supermarket was busier than usual. Someone barged past your trolley without so much as an apology. You reached for the pasta sauce on the top shelf, knocking another jar sideways in the process. It shattered against the floor. The sharp crack echoed down the aisle. "Oh my God." Heat rushed into your face. "I'm so sorry."
An employee hurried over. "It's alright."
"I can help"
"It's okay."
"No, really, —"
The embarrassment settled heavily in your chest as you stepped back to let them clean it. You knew accidents happened. You knew they did. It didn't stop your brain from replaying the sound over and over as you wandered towards the checkout. By the time you reached your car, you'd convinced yourself everyone in the shop thought you were an inconvenience. You sat behind the steering wheel without starting the engine. Unlocked your phone. Scrolled. There it was.
You apologise to tables when you walk into them.
A tiny laugh escaped you.
You could almost hear Tiffany's voice saying it. Shaking her head. Smiling. The embarrassment melted away just enough for you to start the car.
Wednesday. You caught yourself smiling at a golden retriever outside a café. Its tail wagged furiously against the pavement while its owner struggled to untangle the lead from a bench. You waved without thinking. The dog barked happily. Halfway down the street, you stopped. Opened your phone.
You always stop to wave at dogs.
"...You're unbelievable."
A passer-by glanced at you curiously. You smiled to yourself and kept walking.
Thursday night. Sleep refused to come. You'd turned your pillow over twice, fluffed it. Moved to the other side of the bed. Checked the time far too many times. Eventually, with a sigh, you reached for your phone from the bedside table. The room glowed softly in the darkness.You didn't scroll this time. You knew exactly where your favourite sentence was.
Home stopped being a place a long time ago. Now it's just wherever you happen to be.
Your throat tightened. You missed her. God, you missed her. Not in the dramatic, all-consuming way films liked to portray. Just in all the little moments. The second mug staying in the cupboard, nobody stealing the duvet, nobody talking through whatever you were trying to watch, nobody absentmindedly humming while getting ready in the morning. The spaces she'd quietly filled before leaving had become impossible not to notice. You pressed the phone lightly against your chest. It wasn't the same. Of course it wasn't. But somehow it made the bed feel a little less empty.
By Friday afternoon, you realised something. You'd stopped opening the message because you were upset. Now you opened it because it made you smile because every sentence sounded exactly like Tiffany. You could hear the playful emphasis she'd put on certain words. Picture the little grin she'd have worn while writing others. It had become less like reading a text and more like borrowing a piece of her until she came home. When your phone buzzed with another notification from the same conversation, you smiled before you'd even looked.
Tiff Guess who's boarding their flight home?
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By the time you heard keys fumbling against the front door, you were already smiling. Not because the lock had actually opened. Because nobody else on earth managed to make unlocking a door sound quite so complicated. The handle rattled. "...Seriously?" A muffled huff came from the other side. "I literally live here."
You laughed, pushing yourself off the sofa just as the door finally swung open. "There she is."
"There I am." Tiffany stood in the doorway with one hand still on her suitcase, her hair slightly windswept from the journey home and a hoodie you'd seen disappear into her hanging from her shoulders, your hoodie. She looked exhausted, eyes a little heavier than usual. Travel bag slipping down one shoulder. But the second she saw you her entire face lit up. She barely gave herself time to let go of the suitcase before she crossed the hallway in quick strides and wrapped both arms around you. The hug was immediate, firm. The kind that squeezed every lonely evening of the past week into something much smaller. You buried your face against her shoulder, laughing quietly when she rocked the two of you from side to side. "I missed you."
"I know. I missed you more."
"You definitely didn't."
"I absolutely did."
"You've been surrounded by people all week."
She pulled back just enough to look at you. "And none of them were you."
You smiled. "I missed you too."
"I know." She leaned in, kissing you once. Then again. Then one more quick kiss to the tip of your nose. "I've decided," she announced, "tour is cancelled."
"Oh?"
"Mhm."
"You told WWE?"
"Not yet."
"I think they'll want a little more notice."
"They'll cope."
You laughed, reaching down to pull her suitcase fully inside before nudging the door shut with your foot. The apartment felt different already. Louder. Warmer. Like somebody had switched the lights on without actually touching them. Tiffany kicked her trainers off carelessly, letting them land somewhere in the general direction of the shoe rack without making even the slightest attempt to actually use it.
You noticed. "So we're still doing that?"
"What?"
"The shoes."
"They're near the shoe rack."
"They're in a different postcode."
"They know where they're supposed to be."
You shook your head. "I gave up trying to change you months ago."
"I know." She smiled proudly. "It's one of your better qualities."
You rolled your eyes. "Come here."
"I am here."
"Closer."
She obeyed immediately, slipping one hand into yours as naturally as breathing while you wandered together into the living room. Neither of you spoke for a while. You didn't need to. She flopped dramatically onto the sofa with an exhausted groan. "I'm never getting on another plane."
"You say that every trip."
"This time I mean it."
"Mhm."
"I do."
"You've got Smackdown in three days."
"...Don't ruin this for me."
You laughed, sitting beside her. For a few peaceful minutes, the only sounds were the hum of the fridge from the kitchen and Tiffany absentmindedly tracing lazy circles across the back of your hand with her thumb. She'd always done that, without thinking, without even realising. Your phone buzzed softly on the coffee table. You reached over to check it. A delivery notification. Nothing important. You unlocked the screen anyway before setting it back down. You didn't notice Tiffany watching.
"What?” You frowned. "My wallpaper?"
"No."
"My contact photo?"
"No."
You looked at the screen. "I don't know what you are looking at."
She leaned sideways, trying to peek properly. "You just opened our chat."
"I didn't."
"You literally did."
"I was checking a notification."
"Mhm." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "And somehow you accidentally ended up looking at me."
"I wasn't"
"You absolutely were."
Heat crept into your cheeks. "I wasn't."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying."
"You've got the guilty face."
"I don't have a guilty face."
"You absolutely do." Before you could stop her, Tiffany leaned across your lap with surprising speed and snatched your phone from the coffee table.
"Tiff—"
"Evidence." She grinned triumphantly as she unlocked it with the passcode she'd known for months. "You trust me too much."
"I know."
She opened your messages. Found your conversation. Then she stopped smiling. Not because she'd found anything bad. Because the first thing she saw wasn't today's conversation. It was her message, still open, still sitting exactly where you'd left it before the delivery notification arrived. Her thumb hovered over the screen she could see where you'd highlighted little sections with heart reactions. One sentence had two, another had a crying emoji. There were tiny replies scattered underneath different paragraphs across the week.
You remembered that?
I love you.
Shut up.
❤️
You hadn't expected her to ever see them. She looked back up at you. "...Baby."
You suddenly found the pattern on the sofa cushion incredibly interesting. "What?"
"You've been... replying to it?"
"It felt weird not to."
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You've read it again."
You scratched absentmindedly at the sleeve of your hoodie. "...Maybe."
She raised an eyebrow. "How many times?"
You hesitated. "...I don't know." She gave you a look. "...Twenty." Another look. "...Seven." Silence. "...Twenty-eight."
Tiffany laughed, not at you. Just softly like her heart had grown two sizes in the space of a few seconds. "You actually counted?"
"I stopped pretending I wasn't rereading it after about fifteen."
She looked down at the message again, then back at you. There was something wonderfully unfair about how easily she could make you feel seen. "You know," she said quietly, "I was hoping you'd read it twice."
You blinked. "Twice?"
"Mhm Not..." She glanced at the phone. "...twenty-eight."
You smiled sheepishly. "I had a rough week."
The laughter faded from her expression, replaced by something much softer. She reached over, lacing your fingers together. "I know."
It wasn't pity. It wasn't sadness. Just understanding. She'd known long before you'd admitted it.
The room settled into a comfortable silence. Your phone still rested between you, Tiffany's message filling the screen exactly as it had every day that week. Neither of you reached to lock it, neither of you needed to. Tiffany looked back down at it, smiling to herself as she scrolled through the reactions you'd left beneath different sentences. "You hearted the pasta one."
"It was cute."
"You cried at the hotel room one."
"I did."
"You laughed at the table one."
"...I did."
"And you replied 'shut up' to the dog one."
You covered your face with one hand. "I forgot I'd done that."
"I didn't." She nudged your shoulder with hers. "I was very offended."
"You absolutely were not."
"I recovered."
"Barely."
She laughed quietly before her eyes drifted back to the message. Her thumb brushed lightly over the screen. "You know..." She hesitated. "I didn't actually write this at the airport."
You looked at her. "I figured."
"You did?"
"There was no way you randomly remembered I apologise to furniture."
"Told you."
"Tables."
"Same thing."
"They're completely different."
"They're both objects."
You smiled, shaking your head. "What did you mean?"
She tucked one leg underneath herself on the sofa, turning until she was facing you properly. "I started it before I left."
"Before tour?"
She nodded. "Way before." Your eyebrows lifted. "I have a Notes app folder."
"You have a what?"
"A folder."
"Tiffany."
"What?"
"You have a folder?"
"I know how to use technology."
"I never said you didn't."
"You implied it."
"I absolutely did."
She reached for her phone from beside her bag, unlocked it, and held the screen out towards you. There, buried between shopping lists and gear ideas, sat a note simply titled: Things I Love About You ❤️
Your breath caught.
"You weren't supposed to see that."
"I don't think I was supposed to read it twenty-eight times either."
"Twenty-eight is still insane."
"I had free time."
"You absolutely did not." She smiled. "Every time you did something that made me smile..." She shrugged. "I wrote it down."
You looked back at the note. It was much longer than the message she'd sent. Far longer. Little bullet points, half-finished thoughts, tiny observations, dates beside some of them.
One simply read: Held my hand in the car because she knew I was nervous.
Another: Got excited because she saw a really fluffy pigeon.
Another: Fell asleep halfway through a film but still insisted they'd watched the ending.
You laughed through the sudden sting behind your eyes. "You've been collecting these."
"For months."
"Why?"
She looked at you as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Because I never wanted to forget them."
The answer landed somewhere deep inside your chest. Not because it was elaborate. Because it wasn't. It was simple. Every tiny thing you'd convinced yourself was forgettable she'd been making a note of. You reached for her hand. "I don't think anyone's ever looked at me that closely before."
"They should." She squeezed your fingers. "They're missing out."
You laughed softly. "You know..." You glanced at the still-open message on your phone. "There were a few days this week where I really believed all the stupid things my brain was saying."
Her expression softened. "I figured."
"I almost believed them."
"Almost?"
You nodded. "Then I read this." You lifted the phone slightly. "Again." A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "And again." She laughed. "And again."
"You've made your point."
"I don't think I have."
She watched you for a moment before reaching over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm really glad you borrowed my eyes."
The words settled gently between you.
You thought about the week. About the empty apartment. The rewritten emails. The spilled coffee. The comments that had lingered far longer than they deserved. None of those things had disappeared. Life hadn't magically become easier. But every time your confidence had started to crack Tiffany had already left something there to hold it together.
You leaned forward until your forehead rested against hers. "I love you."
"I know." She smiled. "I love you too."
Outside, the evening carried on as it always did. Cars passed below the apartment windows, someone laughed somewhere out in the street, the world kept moving, inside, though, everything felt wonderfully still.
Your phone buzzed quietly on the coffee table. Another notification. Another email. You barely looked at it before turning the screen face down. It could wait.
Because for the first time all week, you didn't need to borrow Tiffany's eyes anymore.
She was home.
one more thing. cody rhodes. language of love series
cody rhodes x wife!reader
words of affirmation
The smell of coffee reached you before your alarm ever had the chance. You smiled into your pillow, eyes still closed as the familiar sounds of your morning drifted through the house. A cupboard door opened somewhere downstairs. The coffee grinder whirred for a few seconds before falling quiet again. A spoon clinked gently against ceramic.
Cody was awake, which meant there was absolutely no point trying to steal another ten minutes of sleep.
You stretched slowly beneath the duvet before finally dragging yourself out of bed, padding across the bedroom floor with considerably less enthusiasm than your husband seemed to possess before eight in the morning. The house felt comfortably lived in. One of Cody's hoodies hung over the banister where he'd clearly abandoned it the night before. A pair of trainers sat beside the front door instead of on the shoe rack. Somewhere in the living room, the television murmured quietly with the morning news despite nobody actually watching it.
You smiled to yourself, some things never changed.
By the time you reached the kitchen, Cody already had his back to you, grey joggers, a faded WWE T-shirt, bare feet against the wooden floor, his attention was entirely focused on pouring coffee into two mugs waiting patiently beside the kettle. He hadn't noticed you yet.
You leaned against the doorway instead, deciding to enjoy the view for a moment. There was something unfairly comforting about watching him exist when he didn't know you were looking. The gentle hum under his breath, the way he automatically reached for the sugar you always forgot, the slight crease between his eyebrows as he concentrated on not spilling the coffee despite doing this exact routine every single morning. You weren't entirely sure how someone could make making coffee look endearing. Yet somehow, he managed it.
Without turning around, he smiled. "You're staring."
Your eyebrows lifted. "I wasn't."
"Were too."
"You don't even know I'm here."
"I do." He finally looked over his shoulder, amusement already dancing across his face. "I can feel it."
"You can feel me looking at you?"
"Mhm."
"That's ridiculous."
"It is."
"And yet..." He picked up one of the mugs before crossing the kitchen towards you. "...I was right."
You accepted the coffee with a grateful smile. "You got lucky."
"I don't believe in luck."
"No?"
"I believe my wife is incapable of being sneaky."
You gasped dramatically. "I am incredibly sneaky."
"You walked down the stairs like a herd of elephants."
"I absolutely did not."
"You absolutely did." He leaned down to press a quick kiss against your forehead before taking a sip of his own coffee. "You also sighed before you even reached the bottom step."
"I was waking up."
"You sounded personally offended that morning had arrived."
"I was."
"I know."
You laughed into your mug. Marriage suited the two of you. Not because anything had dramatically changed after the wedding. It hadn't. You'd still stolen his hoodies. He'd still stolen your side of the bed every single night before insisting he hadn't moved an inch. You still argued over whose turn it was to unload the dishwasher before inevitably doing it together anyway. If anything marriage had simply made the ordinary parts of life feel even more like home. Cody glanced towards the clock on the microwave. "We should probably leave in ten."
"We?"
"I'm dropping you off."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
"You've got your own meetings."
"I know."
"You'll be going the opposite direction."
"I know."
You narrowed your eyes. "So..."
"So I'm dropping my wife off."
"You say that like it's a privilege."
"It is."
You rolled your eyes affectionately. "You're unbelievable."
"I've been told." He reached for your free hand, absentmindedly intertwining your fingers as the two of you stood together in the middle of the kitchen. Neither of you spoke, you didn't need to. The silence between you had never been awkward. Just peaceful. The kind earned through years of knowing each other well enough that conversation wasn't required every second.
Eventually, you glanced at the clock yourself. "We really should get going."
"I know."
Neither of you moved. You smiled. "Cody."
"I know."
"You just said that."
"I know."
You laughed, giving his hand a gentle tug towards the hallway. He followed willingly this time, collecting his car keys from the bowl by the front door while you shrugged on your jacket. Your wedding ring caught the morning sunlight streaming through the window. You adjusted the sleeve over it absentmindedly.
Cody noticed anyway, he always noticed. "You ready?"
"Mhm." You slipped your bag onto your shoulder before stepping closer, rising onto your toes to kiss him. It was soft, quick, comfortable. The kind of kiss shared by people who knew there would be another one waiting later. "I love you," you murmured.
His smile was immediate. "I love you too."
You squeezed his hand once before turning towards the front door. Your fingers had only just brushed the handle when you stopped. "...One more thing."
You heard the quiet laugh before you turned around. "What?"
"You look really handsome today."
He blinked. For just a second, genuine surprise crossed his face. "Thank you."
"I mean it."
"I know."
Satisfied, you turned back towards the door. You managed exactly three steps. "...Actually."
Behind you, you heard him chuckle. "There's another one, isn't there?"
"There might be."
"I knew it."
You looked back over your shoulder. "I really liked waking up next to you this morning."
His entire expression softened. "My love..."
"What?"
"We wake up next to each other every morning."
"I know."
"So?" You shrugged, smiling. "I still liked it."
For a moment, he simply looked at you. Like you'd said something extraordinary instead of something so wonderfully ordinary. Then he crossed the hallway in three easy strides until there wasn't even an inch of space left between you.
His hands settled lightly on your waist. "I've got one."
"Oh?"
"Mhm." He kissed the corner of your mouth. "I really liked waking up next to my wife this morning too."
You smiled so hard your cheeks began to ache. "I was hoping you'd say that."
"I know." He kissed your forehead this time.
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
The drive to work lasted just under twenty minutes. Twenty-three, if Cody insisted on taking what he claimed was the "better route." You still maintained it wasn't. "It's literally three minutes longer."
"It has less traffic."
"It has three more sets of traffic lights."
"But less traffic."
"That doesn't even make sense."
"It makes perfect sense."
You laughed quietly, turning your head to watch the streets drift by outside the passenger window. It was the same conversation you'd had at least six times before. Maybe more. Neither of you had any intention of changing your minds. That wasn't really the point. The point was getting to spend another twenty-three minutes together before the day pulled you in opposite directions.
By the time Cody pulled into the car park outside your office, the conversation had somehow wandered from traffic to breakfast cereal, then to whether Pharaoh had always known exactly when Cody was about to leave for tour.
"He absolutely does."
"Cody."
"I'm serious."
"You think the dog understands your travel schedule?"
"I know he does."
You smiled. "I think you're giving him too much credit."
"I think you're underestimating him." He put the car into park before looking at you with complete sincerity. "He can tell."
"...You know what?"
"What?"
"I hope you're right."
"I am."
"I'll choose to believe you."
"I appreciate that."
You leaned across the centre console, kissing him softly. "I'll see you tonight."
"You will."
You reached for the door handle. "...One more thing."
His hand paused halfway towards starting the car again. "There it is."
"What?"
"I was wondering how long it'd take."
You smiled. "I'm really proud of you."
His eyebrows knitted together. "For what?"
"For everything." You shrugged lightly. "You work harder than anyone I know."
A small smile spread across his face. "You don't have to say that."
"I know."
"You already tell me."
"I know."
"So why are you telling me again?"
"Because I thought it."
He laughed under his breath. "I don't think your brain has a filter."
"No it just... says things."
"When they're nice. I'm not complaining." His hand reached across the console until it found yours. "I've got one."
"You always do."
"I do." He squeezed your fingers gently. "I don't think I tell you enough how much I admire the way you care about people."
You blinked. "What?"
"You just... do." He smiled, looking at your joined hands instead of you. "You remember everybody's birthdays, you always check in on people, you make everyone around you feel included, you don't even realise you're doing it."
Your chest warmed. "Cody..."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
"I've watched complete strangers leave conversations with you smiling." He finally looked back at you. "That's a gift."
For a second, neither of you spoke. Then you laughed softly, mostly because you could already feel yourself getting emotional and refused to cry in his car before nine in the morning. "You're ridiculous."
"So my wife keeps telling me."
"I married a professional speech giver."
"You did."
"It's very dangerous."
"It is."
"You can make me emotional before I've even started work."
"I'd apologise..." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "...but I'm not actually sorry."
"I knew you were going to say that."
"I know."
You smiled, shaking your head. "I really do have to go."
"You do."
This time you actually climbed out of the car. You'd made it halfway across the car park before your phone buzzed.
You didn't even have to look to know who it was.
Husband One more thing.
You laughed out loud. The woman walking past glanced over curiously. You smiled apologetically before opening the message.
I forgot to tell you...
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Thank you for making ordinary mornings my favourite part of the day.
You stood completely still in the middle of the pavement. People continued walking around you. Car doors slammed somewhere behind you. Someone laughed across the car park. For a moment, the rest of the world faded quietly into the background. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard. You smiled to yourself before typing back.
One more thing.
Almost immediately, the typing bubble appeared again.
I knew there'd be one.
Your smile only grew.
Thank you for never making ordinary feel boring.
You pressed send. Locked your phone. Made it all the way through the revolving doors of the building, past reception, into the lift. The doors were almost closed when your phone buzzed again. You sighed dramatically, already laughing.
The man standing beside you glanced over. "Good news?"
"The best kind."
He smiled politely as you looked down at your screen.
One more thing.
You make being married look really easy.
You bit back another smile. By the time the lift reached your floor, you'd stopped trying to win.
There was simply no beating a man who loved you enough to turn every goodbye into three more. And if you were honest you didn't think either of you wanted to.
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
By lunchtime, the morning had somehow disappeared. You'd barely looked up from your desk since walking through the office doors, one task bleeding into the next until your calendar looked more like a game of Tetris than a schedule. The only reason you realised what time it was came when your stomach reminded you. Loudly. "...Right." You rubbed a hand over your face before reaching for your phone.
Three unread messages.
All from the same person.
Husband Hope your meeting went well.
Remember to eat.
One more thing.
You laughed before even opening the last one.
You've got this.
Simple. Five words. They still made you smile. You checked the time.
12:47.
If you left now, you'd have just enough time to make it to the Performance Centre before Cody's afternoon meetings started.
You'd promised him lunch earlier in the week anyway. Besides you missed him.
The reception staff greeted you with familiar smiles as you stepped inside. After years of travelling alongside Cody whenever schedules lined up, you'd become a familiar face. "He's in the gym," one of them told you.
"Thank you."
"You'll probably hear him before you see him."
You laughed. "That sounds about right."
Sure enough, the unmistakable thud of weights reached you before the room itself came into view. You followed the sound, weaving through corridors until the doors opened into the training area. The place buzzed with its usual energy, someone climbed into the ring, music echoed faintly through overhead speakers, conversations overlapped with the metallic clink of barbells meeting the floor.
Your eyes found Cody almost immediately. Not because he stood out. Because they always did. He was midway through talking to one of the younger talent, gesturing animatedly while listening just as carefully as he spoke. You waited. There was no rush. Eventually, he glanced in your direction. The change in his expression happened instantly. His smile spread before he'd even properly registered you were there. "There she is." His voice carried across the room.
You couldn't help smiling. "There you are."
He excused himself from the conversation without hesitation, crossing the gym in quick strides until he reached you. "Hi."
"Hi."
He leaned down to kiss you, completely unconcerned by the fact that half the room had just watched him do it. "I wasn't expecting you."
"I brought lunch."
"You brought lunch?"
You held up the paper bag. "I figured somebody had to make sure you remembered to eat."
He placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "My hero."
"I know."
"You came all this way just to feed me?"
"You texted me three reminders."
"I was worried."
"You were projecting."
"I absolutely was." He laughed, slipping his hand into yours. "Come on."
The two of you ended up sitting outside on a pair of production cases tucked just beyond the loading bay. It wasn't glamorous.
The sun was warm. The air smelled faintly of fresh tarmac. Someone drove a forklift across the far side of the car park, perfect. You handed Cody his sandwich.
He looked inside the bag. "...You got my favourite chips."
"I did."
"I didn't even ask."
"I know."
"You remembered."
"I always do."
He smiled to himself before taking a bite. For a while, conversation wandered wherever it pleased. Stories from your morning. Someone in creative accidentally replying all to an email. A dog you'd seen wearing tiny boots on your way into work. Cody insisting the boots were probably practical. You insisting they were fashionable. The argument remained unresolved.
Eventually, you checked the time. "I should probably let you get back."
His shoulders dropped dramatically. "I disagree."
"I'm sure you do."
"I think you should stay here all afternoon."
"I have a job."
"So do I."
"And?"
"I'd simply rather spend it with you."
You laughed, gathering the empty wrappers. "Unfortunately, adulthood has other ideas."
He stood as you did, brushing the crumbs from his hands. "I'll walk you out."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
"You've got people waiting."
"I know."
"You always know."
"I usually do."
The walk back through the building was slow. Not because either of you walked particularly slowly. Because neither of you seemed especially interested in reaching the exit. By the time the front doors came into view, you stopped. "I'll see you tonight."
"You will."
You leaned up, kissing him quickly. "I love you."
"I love you too."
You took three steps towards the door. "...One more thing."
He smiled immediately. "I was wondering when it'd happen." You laughed. "What?"
"I think..." You paused, trying to find the right words. "I think you're really good at making people feel like they belong." His smile faltered. Not from discomfort. From surprise. You continued before you lost your nerve. "I watched you in the gym." He glanced back over his shoulder instinctively. "You listened to every single person who spoke to you. You remembered everyone's names. You made time for everybody. You never made anyone feel like they were interrupting you." You smiled softly. "I don't think you realise how much that matters."
For perhaps the first time all day Cody was speechless. He blinked once. Then smiled in that quiet, almost bashful way he rarely did. "I..." A small laugh escaped him. "I've never thought about it like that."
"I have."
He looked at you for another moment. "I think I needed to hear that."
Warmth spread through your chest. "I'm glad."
Just as you turned to leave, his voice called after you. "Hey."
You looked back. He was still standing exactly where you'd left him. One hand tucked into his pocket. The other lifted slightly to catch your attention. "...One more thing."
You laughed. "I knew you had another."
"I always do." He smiled. "You make every day worth coming home from."
Before you could answer, "Oh, for the love of—" Both of you turned. CM punk stood a few feet away, shaking his head so dramatically it bordered on theatrical. "I've watched this goodbye happen four times."
Cody looked completely unbothered. "Have you?"
"Yes."
"You've said goodbye." Punk held up one finger. "Then kissed." A second finger. "Then said 'one more thing.'" A third. "Then complimented each other." A fourth. "And now you're doing it again."
You bit your lip, trying very hard not to laugh.
Punk looked between the two of you. "You realise you're insufferable, right?"
Cody didn't miss a beat. "I've been told."
"By me."
"I know."
Punk pointed towards the exit. "Go."
Then pointed at Cody. "And you." Another point. "Stop looking at your wife like she's hung the moon." Cody frowned slightly. "I can't really help that."
Punk closed his eyes. "I walked straight into that one."
You laughed openly this time. "I'll actually go now."
"You probably should," Punk muttered.
You started walking backwards towards the doors.
Cody lifted a hand in a small wave. "So..."
You smiled knowingly. "So."
"I'll see you tonight?"
"You will."
This time, you made it all the way outside before your phone buzzed in your pocket. You didn't even need to look. You already knew exactly how the message would begin.
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
The drive home felt slower than usual. Not because of traffic. Because neither of you was in any hurry to fill the silence. The radio played quietly, some playlist Cody had insisted was perfect driving music despite the fact it seemed to jump wildly between classic rock, country and songs you'd never heard before.
"You've definitely skipped something."
He looked up from the dashboard. "What?"
"This playlist."
"I haven't."
"It doesn't make sense."
"It makes perfect sense."
"It went from Elvis to Shinedown."
"Mhm."
"And now..." You glanced at the display. "...Johnny Cash."
"It's called range."
"It's called musical whiplash."
He laughed, drumming absentmindedly against his knee. "I like variety."
"I can tell."
The conversation faded naturally after that. Not awkwardly. Comfortably. The kind of silence built over years of knowing neither of you had to perform for the other. You rested your elbow against the door, watching the evening blur gently past the window. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Cody looking at you. "What?"
"Hm?"
“You just looked at me."
"I did."
"Why?"
He smiled to himself. "No reason."
"Cody."
"I was just thinking."
"Dangerous."
"I know."
"You've got that face."
"What face?"
"The one where you're about to say something ridiculously sentimental."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You absolutely do."
He lasted another thirty seconds. Maybe.
"I think you're my favourite person."
Your heart did that annoying little flip it only ever seemed to do around him. "You have to say that."
"I don't."
"You married me."
"I did."
"So it'd be a little concerning if I wasn't."
"I suppose."
You reached across the centre console until your hand found his. His fingers intertwined with yours immediately, like they always did. "I think you're mine too."
He looked over briefly, smiling so warmly it made your chest ache. "That's good."
"Oh?"
"I'd hate to be competing with someone."
You laughed. "I don't think there's much competition."
"No?"
"No." You squeezed his hand gently. "I've met you."
"And?"
"I've been biased ever since."
His ears turned faintly pink. It still amazed you that after everything he'd accomplished, after standing in front of thousands of people without so much as a flicker of hesitation, you could still fluster him with a single sentence. "You know..." he said quietly.
"Hm?"
"I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing you say things like that."
"Really?" He shook his head. "Never."
"Good."
He glanced at you again. "Good?"
"I'd hate for you to start taking them for granted."
"I couldn't."
"You'd better not."
"I don't think I physically could."
You smiled to yourself. Outside, the traffic slowed to a gentle crawl at a red light. Cody rested your joined hands against the gear stick, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. "You know what I like?"
"What?"
"These bits."
"The traffic?"
He laughed. "No. I was going to say..." He looked out through the windscreen for a moment, searching for the right words. "...the in-between bits." You frowned thoughtfully. "The drive home, the coffee before work, the five minutes before we fall asleep, the little conversations in supermarket queues." His thumb traced another slow circle across your hand. "I think people spend so much time waiting for the big moments that they forget how lovely the ordinary ones are."
You watched him for a second. "You've thought about this."
"I have."
"I can tell."
He smiled sheepishly. "I think..." He shrugged. "I just really like doing ordinary things with you." The traffic began moving again.
You sat quietly for a few moments, letting his words settle. Then "...One more thing."
He laughed immediately. "I knew there'd be one."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"I think..." You looked down at your joined hands before meeting his eyes again. "I've never felt ordinary since I met you."
He blinked. "What?"
"You keep calling these ordinary moments."
"I know."
"They don't feel ordinary." He stayed quiet. "They feel..." You smiled softly. "...like the kind of moments people miss when they're gone."
His throat bobbed. For a second, you wondered if you'd embarrassed him. Then he lifted your joined hands and pressed a kiss against your knuckles while the car waited at another set of lights. "I don't know how I got so lucky."
"You've said that today."
"I know. I'll keep saying it."
"You don't have to."
"I do." He smiled. "Because every time I think I've already told you everything..." He glanced at you, that familiar sparkle returning to his eyes. "...I remember one more thing."
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
The moment you stepped through the front door, Pharaoh came skidding across the wooden floor. His nails clicked loudly against the hallway as he practically launched himself at Cody first, tail wagging so enthusiastically his entire body seemed to move with it.
"There he is!" Cody crouched immediately, laughing as Pharaoh attempted to climb into his lap despite weighing considerably more than he seemed to realise. "I missed you too, buddy." Pharaoh responded by enthusiastically licking the side of his face. You slipped your shoes off, watching the reunion with a smile.
"I think I've been replaced."
Cody looked up. "What?"
"He barely acknowledged I came home." Pharaoh finally wandered over to you, accepting a scratch behind the ears before promptly returning to Cody. You folded your arms. "See?"
"He just knows who the fun parent is."
"Oh, does he?"
"He does."
"I fed him."
"I wrestle with him."
"I took him for a walk."
"I let him win."
"You absolutely do not."
"I absolutely do."
You laughed, bending down to kiss the top of Pharaoh's head before heading towards the kitchen. "Come on."
Cody stood, giving Pharaoh one final pat. "Dinner?"
"Dinner."
Cooking together had never been particularly efficient. It wasn't because either of you couldn't cook, you could. It was because one of you always ended up talking or laughing or stealing ingredients before they made it into the pan, usually all three.
"You chop." Cody handed you a chopping board.
"I'll cook."
"You don't trust me?"
"I trust you."
"You hesitated."
"I trust you with knives."
"But?"
"I don't trust you not to wander off halfway through."
"I've never done that." He simply looked at you. "...Recently."
"There it is."
You grinned, reaching for the peppers. The kitchen settled into its familiar rhythm. The gentle sizzle of onions hitting the pan. The steady tap of your knife against the chopping board. Music humming softly from the speaker on the windowsill. Neither of you spoke for a while. Not because there wasn't anything to say. Just because there didn't always have to be. You slid the chopped vegetables across the counter towards him. He smiled. "Perfect timing."
"I know."
He stirred everything together before reaching for the garlic. Without looking, he held the cloves out towards you. You took them automatically. Years together had taught you a quiet choreography. Neither of you needed instructions anymore. You simply... knew where the other would be. What they'd need next. "Can you—"
"Already doing it." You held up the garlic press.
He laughed. "I married a mind reader."
"You married someone who knows your cooking routine."
"Same thing."
You smiled to yourself. "...One more thing."
He looked up from the pan immediately. "I was wondering when it'd happen."
"I really love watching you cook."
He blinked. "You do?"
"Mhm."
"Why?"
You shrugged. "You always look so... focused."
"I am focused."
"I know."
"You make that face."
"What face?"
"The little one."
"I don't have a face."
"You absolutely do."
You scrunched your eyebrows together dramatically. "You get these tiny lines here." You reached up, gently brushing your fingertip between his brows. "And you start talking to the food."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
"I've never spoken to a vegetable in my life."
"Cody."
"What?"
"You just told the onions they were 'doing great.'"
He stared at you. "...Did I?"
"You did."
"I don't remember doing that."
"I know."
A laugh escaped him as he rubbed the back of his neck. "That's slightly embarrassing."
"I thought it was adorable."
"You did?"
"I married you, didn't I?"
His smile returned so easily it almost looked automatic. "You've got strange standards."
"I've got excellent standards."
He shook his head fondly before returning his attention to the stove. For approximately forty-five seconds. Then, "...One more thing." You smiled without even looking up from the herbs you were chopping. "I like that you always make enough."
You frowned. "Enough?"
"For tomorrow."
You glanced towards the saucepan. "I always make leftovers."
"I know."
"You've mentioned that before."
"I know." He stirred the sauce thoughtfully. "But I realised something today."
"What?"
"You never make enough because it's practical." You paused. He looked over at you. "You make enough because somewhere in your head..." His smile softened. "...you assume someone should always have a meal waiting for them." Your hands stopped moving. "I've watched you do it for years." He shrugged. "You don't even think about it, you just..." He gestured vaguely towards the saucepan. "...care."
You hadn't.
Thought about it, that was.
You simply always doubled recipes. Made extra portions. Kept containers in the freezer. It had never occurred to you that Cody had noticed. "I didn't realise you paid attention."
He looked genuinely confused. "My love..." He set the wooden spoon down. "I pay attention to everything you do." Your heart squeezed painfully against your ribs.
Before you could answer, a sharp smell drifted through the kitchen. You both froze. The garlic. "Oh no." You spun towards the pan just as Cody did. He reached it first, hurriedly stirring the slightly-too-brown garlic into the sauce before it crossed the line from toasted to burnt. You burst into laughter. "This is your fault."
"My fault?"
"You distracted me."
"You were the one complimenting me."
"You started it this morning."
"I did."
"You've been emotionally ambushing me all day."
He laughed so hard he had to steady himself against the counter. "I have not."
"You absolutely have."
"I regret nothing."
"I know you don't."
You reached for the wooden spoon. "Taste."
He obediently leaned down, taking the smallest bite. He hummed thoughtfully.
"What?"
"It's good."
"You hesitated."
"I was building suspense."
"Cody."
He smiled. "It's perfect."
You rolled your eyes. "Liar."
"I'm married to an excellent cook."
"You have to say that."
"I absolutely don't."
He stole another bite before you could stop him. "I choose to."
You sighed dramatically. "You are impossible."
"I've been told."
"By your wife."
"My very intelligent wife."
You pointed the wooden spoon at him. "Flattery isn't going to stop me noticing you stole another spoonful."
"It wasn't flattery." He smiled. "It was an observation."
And somehow you believed him.
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Dinner ended the way it usually did. With Cody insisting he'd wash up, with you insisting you'd cooked just as much as he had, with the two of you somehow ending up standing shoulder to shoulder at the sink anyway.
"You know this defeats the point."
"What does?"
"Arguing over who does the washing up."
"We're not arguing."
"We absolutely are."
"I'd call this a discussion."
"You've been trying to steal the sponge for three minutes."
"I have."
"And I've successfully defended it."
"I'll simply dry, then."
"You were going to dry anyway."
"I know."
You smiled to yourself as you passed him another plate. There was something strangely comforting about the routine. Wash. Pass it over. Dry. Put it away. It wasn't particularly exciting. It didn't need to be.
The conversation drifted easily between half-finished stories from your day, what Pharaoh had apparently done while you'd both been at work, and whether either of you had remembered to buy milk.
"You forgot."
"I absolutely didn't."
"You absolutely did."
"...I absolutely did."
"I'll get some tomorrow."
"I know."
When the last plate finally disappeared into the cupboard, Cody reached past you to switch the kitchen light off. "Living room?"
"Definitely."
The sofa had somehow become your place over the years. Not because it was especially comfortable, it wasn't. The cushions were beginning to lose their shape, and one corner still dipped slightly where Pharaoh insisted on sleeping every afternoon. You'd talked about replacing it more than once. Neither of you ever actually had.
It held too many evenings. Too many lazy Sunday mornings. Too many nights exactly like this one.
You settled into your usual corner before Cody disappeared briefly into the kitchen. He returned carrying two mugs. "Tea?"
"You remembered."
"I usually do."
He handed one to you before sitting close enough that your knees brushed. Not long after, that wasn't close enough anymore. Without either of you acknowledging it, he stretched one arm along the back of the sofa. You leaned naturally into his side. His arm settled around your shoulders, there, better. "What are we watching?"
"I have absolutely no idea."
"You picked."
"I know."
"So?"
"I wasn't paying attention."
You laughed.
"Then why did you put it on?"
"I wanted background noise."
"You don't actually care what's happening."
"Not remotely."
You looked at the television. Something dramatic appeared to be unfolding. Neither of you could have explained the plot if your lives depended on it.
Five minutes passed. Maybe ten. You couldn't have said. Your attention wandered between the television and the steady rise and fall of Cody's breathing beside you. His thumb traced absent-minded circles against your upper arm. The same slow pattern, over and over. You weren't entirely sure he realised he was doing it. "...One more thing." You smiled without taking your eyes off the screen. "I've run out."
You turned to look at him. "What?"
"I think I've officially told you every nice thing I can think of."
You gasped dramatically. "No."
"I have."
"You haven't."
"I genuinely have."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I've been complimenting you since seven this morning."
"You've barely scratched the surface."
He laughed quietly. "I don't know..."
"You've still got loads."
"I don't."
"You do."
"I promise you—" You interrupted him with a look. He sighed theatrically. "...Fine."
"I knew it."
He tilted his head, pretending to think. "Hm." You waited patiently. After nearly thirty seconds, his face brightened. "There it is."
"I knew you'd find one."
"I remembered."
"What is it?"
His smile softened. "I love how safe I feel with you."
The words landed differently from all the others. Quieter. More thoughtful.
You frowned ever so slightly. "Safe?"
He nodded. "I know people usually talk about feeling safe because someone protects them." He looked down at your intertwined hands. "But that's not what I mean." You stayed quiet, letting him find the words. "I mean..." He let out a small breath. "I never have to be anyone else when I'm with you."vYour heart squeezed. "You've seen me stressed." He counted softly against your fingers. "You've seen me frustrated, scared, exhausted, you've seen every version of me." He looked back at you. "And somehow..." His smile was almost shy. "...you've loved every single one."
Emotion caught unexpectedly in your throat. "Cody..."
"I don't think I tell you enough how much that means to me."
You reached up, resting your hand gently against his cheek. "You don't have to earn being loved."
"I know."
"I've never expected you to."
"I know."
"You don't have to be 'The American Nightmare.'" A tiny smile appeared. "You don't have to have all the answers, you don't have to be perfect, you just have to come home."
He closed his eyes briefly, leaning into your touch. "I can do that."
"I know."
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The television continued talking quietly in the background. Outside, rain had started tapping softly against the windows. You smiled to yourself. "...One more thing."
He laughed into your hand. "I knew there'd be another."
"There always is."
"What is it?"
You brushed your thumb gently across his cheek. "I've never once doubted that I was loved." His eyes met yours. "Not for a second." You shrugged lightly. "You've made sure of that."
The silence that followed wasn't empty. It was full. Full of years. Of ordinary mornings. Late-night conversations. Airport goodbyes. Shared dinners. Countless tiny moments that, stitched together, had quietly become a life.
Cody smiled. "I think..." He leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours. "...that's my favourite one you've said today."
You smiled back. "I was saving it."
"I noticed."
"I've still got one left."
He chuckled. "I don't believe you."
"You'll have to wait until bedtime."
"Oh?"
"Mhm."
He kissed the tip of your nose. "I'll be counting the minutes."
"You usually do."
"I know."
And for the first time all day neither of you felt the need to say anything else. There was still one more thing. But it could wait until the lights were out.
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The house had settled into its familiar nighttime rhythm. The television had long since switched itself off after neither of you had paid attention to it for nearly an hour. Even Pharaoh had given up trying to convince somebody to throw one last toy before bed, choosing instead to curl himself into a contented heap in his favourite corner of the living room.
You smiled down at him as you switched the downstairs lights off. "He gave up."
Cody glanced over your shoulder. "He'll pretend he wasn't asleep the second we move."
"Of course he will."
"He has a reputation to maintain."
You laughed quietly before reaching for Cody's hand. "Come on."
The two of you climbed the stairs together, your fingers still loosely intertwined. It had become one of those habits neither of you had ever consciously started. Somewhere along the line, walking through the house hand in hand had simply become... normal. By the time you reached the bedroom, Cody had already wandered towards his side of the wardrobe. "You stole another hoodie."
"I borrowed another hoodie."
"You've been borrowing that one since October."
"I haven't given it back yet."
"So..."
"So it's still borrowed."
He shook his head, smiling to himself. "I married a thief."
"You married someone with excellent taste."
"I did."
You disappeared into the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed, returning a few minutes later to find Cody already sitting against the headboard, absently flicking through a book he clearly hadn't read a single page of. "You've been on that chapter for three days."
"I know."
"You like pretending."
"I do."
"You've read the same paragraph every night."
"It keeps me company."
"You could've just said you were waiting for me."
"I could've." He closed the book with a soft thud, placing it on the bedside table. "But this sounded more intellectual."
You laughed as you climbed into bed beside him. The mattress dipped beneath your weight. Almost automatically, Cody shifted closer. One arm wrapped around your waist. Your head settled against his shoulder. Neither of you had to think about it anymore. It was simply where you fit. The bedside lamp cast a warm glow across the room.
You let out a contented sigh. "This is my favourite part of the day."
Cody looked down at you. "Really?"
"Mhm."
"More than coffee?"
"Barely."
He laughed. "I'll take second place."
"It isn't second."
"Oh?"
"It's tied."
"I can live with that."
Silence settled comfortably around you. Not awkward. Not expectant. Just peaceful.
The kind of silence that only existed between two people who had long since realised they never needed to fill every empty space with conversation.
Eventually, Cody reached over and switched the lamp off. The bedroom softened into darkness. Only the faint orange glow from the streetlamp outside slipped between the curtains. You closed your eyes. Listened to the quiet rhythm of his breathing. Counted perhaps twenty seconds, maybe thirty.
Then, “Cody?"
He smiled before he'd even answered.
"There it is."
You laughed. "You knew."
"I've been waiting."
"Mhm."
"You promised me there was one left."
"There is."
He shifted slightly until he was facing you, even in the darkness. "What is it?"
You traced absent-minded circles against the back of his hand. "I don't think we've ever gone to sleep angry."
He was quiet for a moment. "No."
"Not once."
"We've been frustrated."
"We've disagreed."
"You've annoyed me."
"I've definitely annoyed you."
He smiled. "But no."
You nodded against his shoulder. "I was thinking about that today."
"What brought that on?"
"I don't know." You shrugged lightly. "I just realised..." You smiled softly. "...I really like that we've always chosen each other before we've chosen being right."
The room fell quiet again. When Cody finally spoke, his voice was gentler than before. "My dad used to tell me something."
You looked up. "What?"
"He used to say..." Cody paused, as though hearing the words exactly as they'd been spoken years before. "'Never assume you'll get another chance to say something kind.'" Your heart squeezed. "He'd say life has a funny way of reminding you that tomorrow isn't guaranteed." His thumb brushed slowly across your knuckles. "I think..." He let out a small breath. "I carried that with me." You stayed quiet. "I've spent so much of my life travelling, so many airports, so many hotel rooms., so many mornings where I'd kiss you goodbye and think..." His smile was small. "...what if that's the last thing I ever say to my wife today?" Emotion tightened your throat. "So I decided a long time ago..." He looked at you in the darkness. "...that if I thought something kind..." His fingers squeezed yours gently. "...I'd say it."
You blinked quickly. "So that's why."
He nodded. "I never wanted there to be something I wished I'd told you."
Your eyes stung. "You know..." You whispered. "I think I've accidentally started doing the same thing."
"I noticed."
You laughed quietly. "I can't seem to stop."
"I hope you never do."
A comfortable silence stretched between you. Then "...One more thing."
He chuckled. "I wondered who was going first."
"I don't ever want you to wonder if you're loved."
His answer came so quickly it almost overlapped yours. "I never have."
You smiled. "Good."
"My turn?"
"Mhm."
He reached up, even in the darkness somehow finding your face with effortless certainty. "I don't ever want you wondering either."
"You've made that impossible."
"I'll keep making it impossible."
"You don't have to."
"I know." His forehead rested gently against yours. "But I want to."
You smiled, your eyes already beginning to grow heavy. “I love you."
"I love you too."
A few moments passed.
You thought that was it. Then, "My love?"
You laughed into the darkness. "What?"
"...One more thing."
"You promised there wasn't another."
"I lied."
"You did."
His smile was unmistakable, even though you couldn't properly see it. "I don't think..." He pressed one last kiss against your forehead. "...I'll ever run out."
You smiled so widely it almost hurt. "I don't think I will either."
The room fell quiet once more. This time, neither of you broke the silence. You simply lay there in the darkness, tucked safely into the arms of the person who had somehow turned an ordinary Tuesday into your favourite kind of love story. And somewhere between I love you and one more thing, you drifted off to sleep, already certain that tomorrow would bring another ordinary morning and another reason to remind each other just how loved you both were.
tour buddy. chelsea green. language of love series
chelsea green x girlfriend!reader
quality time
The alarm went off at an hour that should have been illegal. You didn't even bother opening your eyes before reaching blindly across the hotel bedside table in search of your phone.
5:03 a.m.
You let out a long, dramatic groan before dropping your head back onto the pillow. "No."
Beside you, Chelsea hummed sleepily. "No what?"
"It's still night."
"It objectively isn't."
"It feels like it."
She smiled without opening her eyes. "I know."
You buried your face further beneath the duvet. "We should boycott morning flights."
"We don't really get a vote."
"We should."
"We'd lose."
"We don't know that."
Chelsea finally cracked one eye open, grinning before she'd even looked at the time. "We definitely know that."
You sighed so dramatically it earned a quiet laugh from her. Tour had taught you many things. How to fall asleep almost anywhere, how to unpack a suitcase in under five minutes, how to survive on airport coffee far more often than anyone should.
Most importantly how to function on an alarming amount of very little sleep.
Neither of you particularly enjoyed the early mornings. You'd simply become professionals at complaining about them.
Chelsea stretched lazily beside you before throwing the duvet back with considerably more enthusiasm than you'd managed. "Come on."
"I refuse."
"You have a flight."
"I know."
"You have to get up."
"I know."
"So?"
You reached an arm towards her without moving anything else. "I'd rather stay here."
She laughed softly before taking your hand anyway. "I know."
For a few seconds neither of you moved. You simply sat there, still half asleep, hands loosely intertwined in the middle of a hotel bed that looked almost identical to the one you'd slept in three nights before and the one before that. Sometimes you genuinely forgot which city you were waking up in. "Chelsea?"
"Hm?"
"...Where are we?"
She frowned thoughtfully. A beat passed. "...Honestly?"
"Mhm?"
"I was hoping you knew."
You burst into laughter. "No."
"I think..." She looked around the room as though the beige curtains might provide the answer. "...Detroit?"
You reached for your phone. "Cleveland."
"So close."
"They're not."
"They both start with the same letter."
"They don't."
She blinked. "...Right."
"You've been awake for thirty seconds."
"I told you it was too early."
You climbed out of bed with considerably more effort than dignity, shuffling across the room towards your suitcase.
Behind you, Chelsea had already wandered into the bathroom, cheerfully singing something that sounded vaguely like the entrance music of three different wrestlers mashed together.
You smiled to yourself. There wasn't a morning on tour where she wasn't making some sort of noise. Humming, talking, singing. Narrating what she was doing as though invisible cameras followed her twenty-four hours a day.
The silence never lasted long once Chelsea Green was awake.
"I've got a very important question." Her voice drifted through the open bathroom door.
"Oh?"
"What are we wearing today?"
You laughed. "...Gear?"
"No." She reappeared, toothbrush balanced dramatically between her fingers. "Airport outfits."
"I don't think airport outfits are a thing."
"They are absolutely a thing."
"I think they're just clothes."
"They're a statement."
"They're joggers."
"They're fashionable joggers."
You pulled one of your hoodies over your head. "They're grey."
"They're elevated."
"They're cotton."
"They're couture."
You raised an eyebrow. "Couture?"
She nodded confidently. "Couture."
"...You've completely made that up."
"I absolutely have not."
"You absolutely have."
She gasped dramatically, one hand resting over her heart. "My own girlfriend questioning my fashion expertise."
"I've seen what you packed."
"You loved what I packed."
"I loved about eighty percent."
"Eighty-five."
"Eighty."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Eighty-three."
You pretended to consider it. "...Deal."
Less than an hour later, the hotel lobby buzzed with familiar faces. Suitcases rolled across polished floors, someone yawned loudly near reception, a production assistant balanced three takeaway coffees while trying not to drop their phone, the entire roster somehow managed to look simultaneously exhausted and ready for television.
Chelsea slipped her fingers through yours as the two of you followed the group towards the waiting shuttle. "You hungry?"
"Starving."
"Airport breakfast?"
"You know airport breakfast is ridiculously overpriced."
"I know."
"So?"
She looked at you as though you'd asked the most ridiculous question imaginable. "We're making memories."
"By spending twelve dollars on a croissant?"
"Exactly."
You laughed. "I admire your optimism."
"It's one of my best qualities."
"So I've heard."
The shuttle ride passed in a blur of half-finished conversations and sleepy complaints. By the time you reached the airport, the sun had only just begun creeping over the horizon. The terminal felt strangely peaceful, not empty, just quieter than usual.
Business travellers hurried between gates with coffees clutched in one hand, families tried to keep sleepy children awake, the smell of fresh pastries drifted from a café near security.
Chelsea stopped walking immediately. "There."
You followed her gaze. "It's six in the morning."
"I know."
"We literally had breakfast at the hotel."
"We had toast."
"So?"
"This..." She pointed dramatically towards the display cabinet. "...is breakfast."
You looked at the price of a bacon roll. You looked back at Chelsea. "You cannot be serious."
"I've never been more serious."
"It's nearly fifteen dollars."
"It's an investment."
"In cholesterol?"
"In happiness."
You shook your head, already laughing. "You are impossible."
"I've also been told that's one of my best qualities."
"You've mostly been told that by yourself."
"Positive reinforcement."
Somehow, despite complaining the entire time, the two of you ended up carrying one breakfast between you anyway. One bacon roll. One hash brown. Two coffees. Chelsea insisted it was "financially responsible."
You suspected she simply wanted an excuse to steal half of everything you ate. The gate area was still relatively quiet, so instead of sitting in the rows of uncomfortable airport chairs, you found an empty stretch of carpet beside the window overlooking the runway.
Chelsea kicked her trainers off immediately before sitting cross-legged.
"You know there are seats."
"I know."
"So?"
"The floor has better vibes."
"The floor has... vibes?"
"It does."
You lowered yourself beside her, still shaking your head. "I think touring has finally broken you."
"It set me free."
You handed her the breakfast bag. "I'll let you have the first bite."
"Really?"
"Mhm."
"That's true love."
She took an enormous bite. Far larger than necessary. Then looked back at you innocently. "What?"
"You've just eaten half of it."
"I was checking."
"Checking what?"
"Quality."
You stared at her. "...The quality." You laughed "And?"
She nodded thoughtfully while chewing. "It's excellent."
You laughed so hard you almost spilled your coffee. "You're unbelievable."
"I've never claimed otherwise."
She tore off a much more reasonably sized piece this time before holding it out towards you. You accepted it with an exaggerated sigh. "I can't believe I let you get away with this every single trip."
"You love me."
"I do."
"So..." She shrugged. "...you'll keep sharing your breakfast."
You smiled despite yourself. "Probably."
"I knew it."
For a little while, the two of you simply sat there, sharing a breakfast sandwich, passing coffees back and forth, and watching planes taxi slowly across the runway. Neither of you felt any rush to fill the silence. Chelsea rested her shoulder lightly against yours. You leaned into it without thinking. There would be another airport next week, another hotel, another rental car, another city that blurred into the next. But somehow no matter where tour took you, Chelsea always found a way to make even the most ordinary Tuesday morning at Gate 17 feel like the start of a little adventure.
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The rental car smelled faintly of fresh upholstery and airport coffee. You dropped your backpack onto the back seat before sliding into the passenger side with a sigh of relief, stretching your legs out in front of you as Chelsea climbed into the driver's seat.
She looked far too excited for someone who'd been awake since five. "Ready?"
You looked around the empty car. "For what?"
She plugged her phone into the dashboard. "The concert."
"We're driving to the hotel."
"Exactly."
She tapped the screen with all the confidence of someone who had spent the last ten minutes planning this very moment. The speakers crackled to life. For approximately three seconds, peaceful instrumental music played.
Then, "IT'S GONNA BE ME—"
You physically jumped.
Chelsea, meanwhile, slapped the steering wheel in delight. "Excellent choice."
"It wasn't a choice."
"It absolutely was."
"You've just assaulted me with NSYNC."
She grinned. "I eased us in."
"Eased us in?"
"This is the warm-up."
"I'm scared to ask what comes next."
"You should be." She pulled out of the airport, sunglasses perched on top of her head despite the fact the sun was still hiding behind thick clouds. "I've spent years perfecting this playlist."
"I don't think 'perfecting' is the word I'd use."
"You haven't even heard it yet."
"I've heard enough."
"You've heard one song."
"I know enough about your music taste."
She gasped dramatically. "My music taste is elite."
"You have three different versions of the same Taylor Swift song."
"They're different recordings."
"They sound identical."
"They absolutely do not."
You smiled to yourself, resting your elbow against the window as the airport slowly disappeared behind you. This happened every week. Different airport. Different rental car. The same conversation. Chelsea always insisted on driving if she could. You always pretended to complain about her playlist. Neither of you ever actually wanted it any other way.
The song changed.
Then changed again.
Then, "...Chelsea."
"What?"
"Is this..." You frowned at the speakers. "...the soundtrack from High School Musical?"
She didn't even glance away from the road. "Mhm."
"You skipped from Fleetwood Mac to High School Musical."
"I believe in variety."
"I think you believe in emotional whiplash."
She laughed. "You'll thank me in about thirty seconds."
"I really won't."
The chorus arrived and Chelsea looked at you expectantly.
You folded your arms. "No."
"What?"
"I'm not doing it."
"You know every word."
"I don't."
"You absolutely do."
"I've never heard this song in my life."
She raised one eyebrow. "You performed the entire dance at a house show in Glasgow because the music accidentally came on."
Your cheeks warmed. "That was different."
"How?"
"I was committed to the bit."
"And now?"
"I'm retired."
Chelsea reached over and turned the volume up another notch. "I don't believe you."
"I've matured."
"You've become boring."
"I've become twenty-seven."
"Same thing."
You held out for nearly a full minute. Then the second chorus started. Without thinking, you quietly sang one line.
Chelsea's head whipped towards you so quickly you worried she might pull a muscle. "I knew it!"
"I only sang one bit."
"You're singing."
"I'm humming."
"You are absolutely singing."
"I'm supporting you."
She laughed so hard she nearly missed the turnoff.
Within another song, the two of you were no longer pretending. The windows stayed firmly shut, sparing everyone else on the motorway, but inside the car it might as well have been a sold-out arena. Chelsea used her water bottle as a microphone. You pointed dramatically at invisible audience members every time a chorus hit.
When an old pop anthem came on, Chelsea reached over and grabbed your hand during the key change as if the moment demanded emotional support. "We're absolutely winning a Grammy."
"We're not even recording."
"Minor detail."
Traffic slowed at a set of lights. A family in the car beside you glanced over. Chelsea happened to be in the middle of an unnecessarily passionate performance, complete with exaggerated facial expressions and one hand conducting the imaginary band. The little girl in the back seat burst into giggles and Chelsea noticed immediately. Without missing a beat, she gave the child an exaggerated bow from behind the steering wheel. The girl clapped.
Her mum laughed, shaking her head.
The lights turned green.
Chelsea waved dramatically as you pulled away. "I've still got it."
"You've got something."
"I made her day."
"You probably did."
"I think I should start charging for appearances."
"You've just performed Dancing Queen in a Nissan."
"Art comes in many forms."
You leaned back in your seat, laughing so hard your stomach ached. This. This was why you loved touring with her. Most people would remember the flights, the early mornings, the delays, the endless miles of motorway stretching between airports and arenas. You remembered Chelsea convincing you to sing at the top of your lungs before nine in the morning. You remembered laughing at traffic lights with complete strangers. You remembered her turning an ordinary drive to the hotel into something you'd still be talking about months later. The playlist settled into something calmer for a while. Chelsea rested one hand lightly on the steering wheel, the other tapping absent-mindedly against the centre console in time with the music. You looked out of the window, watching a new city slowly unfold around you.
"Hey."
You turned back towards her. "Hm?"
"I'm glad you always say yes."
"To what?"
She smiled, eyes still fixed on the road. "All the silly little things."
You blinked. "What do you mean?"
"The playlists, the random cafés, the tourist traps, the walks, the stopping because I saw a cute bookshop." She shrugged. "You never make me feel silly for wanting to do them."
You smiled softly. "I don't think they're silly."
"No?"
"They're my favourite part."
She looked over at you for just a second. "The city?"
"You." Her smile was immediate. "No matter where we are..." You reached across the centre console until your fingers found hers, letting your hands rest together between the seats. "...I know we're going to have fun."
Chelsea squeezed your hand gently. "I was hoping you'd say that."
"You didn't need to hope."
"I know." She brought your joined hands briefly to her lips while the car waited at another red light, pressing a quick kiss across your knuckles before letting them settle back onto the console.
Outside, the sat nav announced another turn, another hotel, another arena waiting somewhere ahead. Inside the car, though, it didn't really matter where the road ended. As long as Chelsea was behind the wheel, singing far too loudly and getting distracted by every song that came on the radio the journey always ended up being your favourite part.
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By the time you'd both checked into the hotel, unpacked just enough to stop yourselves living entirely out of suitcases, and changed into something a little more comfortable, the afternoon sun had settled warmly over the city. Call time wasn't for another few hours.
Which, according to Chelsea, meant there was an important decision to make. She stood in the middle of the hotel room with one hand on her hip. "So."
You looked up from tying your trainers. "So?"
"What are we doing?"
You blinked. "I thought we were going to the arena later."
"We are."
"I thought that was the plan."
"It is."
You waited. She smiled expectantly. "...You're doing that thing."
"What thing?"
"The one where you already know what you want to do."
"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
"Chelsea."
"What?"
"You've got the face."
"What face?"
"The 'I've secretly planned an entire afternoon' face."
She gasped dramatically. "I don't have a face."
"You absolutely do."
She lasted all of three seconds before breaking into a grin. "...I found a bookstore."
You laughed. "Of course you did."
"It has three floors."
"You looked this up before we landed, didn't you?"
"...Maybe."
"You definitely did."
"I believe in preparation."
"You believe in shopping."
"They're basically the same thing."
You shook your head fondly, grabbing your room key from the bedside table. "So we're going to the bookstore."
"We're starting at the bookstore." You narrowed your eyes. "Starting?"
She linked your arm through hers as you headed for the door. "I've also got a bakery."
"Oh?"
"And a record shop."
"Chelsea..."
"And this tiny little vintage store that everyone says is amazing."
"You've planned a route."
"I made a map."
"You made a map?"
"It has colour coding."
You stared at her. "...You made a colour-coded map."
She looked impossibly proud of herself. "I did."
"I love you."
"I know."
The city buzzed with the lazy energy of a warm afternoon. People sat outside cafés with iced coffees balanced on tiny tables. Street musicians played on busy corners. Cyclists weaved effortlessly through traffic while tourists stopped every few feet to take photos.
Chelsea took approximately twelve steps before stopping. "Oh my God."
You smiled knowingly. "What?"
She pointed excitedly across the street. "Look."
You followed her finger. A little independent florist had spilled buckets of colourful flowers onto the pavement outside. "They're pretty."
"They're gorgeous."
Before you'd even finished your sentence, she'd already tugged you across the crossing. "You don't even want flowers."
"I know."
"So?"
"I want to look at them."
You laughed, allowing yourself to be pulled along. This happened every single city. Chelsea never rushed anywhere she wanted to see everything. Not the famous landmarks, the little things. The bakery tucked down a side street. The mural painted on the side of an old brick building. The coffee shop with handwritten menus. She noticed everything and somehow you'd started noticing them too.
The florist smiled as Chelsea admired every arrangement like she was judging an international competition.
"They're beautiful," Chelsea said.
"They really are."
The woman behind the display beamed. "Thank you."
After another minute spent deciding which bouquet was her favourite despite having absolutely no intention of buying one, Chelsea finally wandered away. "I liked her."
"The florist?"
"She seemed lovely."
"You spoke to her for about forty seconds."
"I know."
"You've decided she's lovely."
"I trust my instincts."
"You do."
She slipped her hand into yours as you continued walking. "So..."
"What next?"
"The bookstore."
"I had a feeling."
It took exactly six minutes inside the bookstore for Chelsea to disappear. One moment she'd been beside you. The next she was gone. You wandered slowly through the shelves until you spotted her sitting cross-legged on the floor of the travel section, completely absorbed in a book she'd picked up. "There you are."
She looked up with a guilty smile. "I got distracted."
"I can see that."
"You have to look at this."
You crouched beside her. "What is it?" She turned the book around. It was a collection of photographs from old wrestling territories across North America. Your eyebrows lifted. "You found that quickly."
"I manifested it."
"I don't think that's how bookstores work."
"It worked, didn't it?"
You smiled, leaning your shoulder gently against hers as the two of you flicked through the pages together. Neither of you said much. You didn't need to. Every now and then Chelsea would point at an old arena. Or a particularly ridiculous ring outfit from decades ago. Or a photograph that reminded her of someone backstage.
Mostly you just sat there, on the floor. In the middle of a quiet bookstore. Perfectly content.
Eventually, Chelsea closed the book with a soft sigh. "I love places like this."
"You do."
"They're quiet."
You looked at her, amused. "You?"
"I know."
"You've voluntarily stopped talking for nearly five whole minutes."
"I can be peaceful."
"You can. occasionally."
She nudged your shoulder. "I heard that."
"I wanted you to."
She smiled before standing, brushing imaginary dust from her jeans. "Come on."
"What now?"
"Ice cream."
You laughed. "It was a bookstore five seconds ago."
"I've evolved."
"You change your mind every ten minutes."
"I contain multitudes."
"You contain distractions."
"They're more fun."
You stepped back out into the sunshine together. The afternoon stretched ahead of you with no real plan beyond following whatever caught Chelsea's attention next. A bakery became coffee, coffee became a walk through a little park, the park became sitting on a bench sharing a cinnamon roll because Chelsea insisted it "looked too good for one person."
At one point she stopped dead in the middle of the pavement. "What?"
She pointed excitedly at a tiny souvenir shop. "They've got magnets."
You laughed. "We don't even collect magnets."
"We do now."
Twenty minutes later, you walked back out carrying the most ridiculously oversized magnet shaped like the city's skyline. "It doesn't even fit on a normal fridge."
"Exactly."
"You only bought it because it made you laugh."
She looked at you like that was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course I did."
You shook your head, smiling to yourself as she happily tucked the bag under her arm.
The funny thing was, if someone asked you what you'd done that afternoon, the answer wouldn't sound particularly exciting. You'd wandered through a bookstore, shared a cinnamon roll, bought an impractically large fridge magnet, looked at flowers neither of you intended to buy.
Objectively it was an incredibly ordinary afternoon.
But as Chelsea reached for your hand again while excitedly pointing out another little shop further down the street, you realised something.
You couldn't remember the last time an ordinary afternoon had felt quite so extraordinary.
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Backstage always felt louder than the crowd ever did. People hurried through the corridors carrying equipment cases almost as tall as they were. Production assistants darted between dressing rooms with headsets pressed against one ear. Music from someone's entrance echoed faintly through the concrete hallways before disappearing beneath overlapping conversations and the distant thud of bodies hitting the ring during rehearsals.
It should have felt chaotic. Instead it had become strangely familiar. You adjusted the strap of your gear bag as you stepped out of your locker room, glancing instinctively down the corridor.
You didn't even have to think about where your feet were taking you.
There were half a dozen directions you could have gone. Hair and makeup, gorilla, catering, medical.
Instead you turned left.
Chelsea's dressing room sat three doors down. The door was already open. You knocked lightly against the frame anyway.
She looked up from the makeup chair, her face immediately brightening. "There you are. I've been looking for you."
You looked pointedly at the corridor between your rooms. "...We're about twenty feet apart."
"I know. it was a very difficult search."
You laughed as you stepped inside.
The room looked exactly like every shared women's locker room eventually did before a show. Gear hung from hooks along the wall. Open makeup bags covered every available surface. Someone's curling iron rested dangerously close to a pile of jackets. Chelsea sat in front of the mirror while one of the makeup artists carefully blended the final touches around her eyes.
"You busy?" you asked.
She glanced towards the artist. "Am I busy?"
The artist smiled without looking up. "You've got about... six minutes before wardrobe steals you."
Chelsea grinned triumphantly. "You heard her."
"So?"
"So..."
She patted the empty chair beside her. "...sit."
You did. Without question, without asking why, six minutes was six minutes. She reached for your hand almost immediately, absent-mindedly intertwining your fingers while the makeup artist continued working as though this happened every single week.
Which, it did.
"You eaten?" Chelsea asked.
"Mhm."
"What did you have?"
"Pasta."
"Catering pasta?" You nodded. She winced dramatically. "My condolences."
"It wasn't that bad."
"It was."
"You haven't even tried it."
"I don't have to."
You smiled. "You are unbelievably dramatic."
"I've built a career on it."
The makeup artist laughed quietly. "I can confirm that's true."
Chelsea pointed at her reflection. "See? You've got witnesses now."
"I've always had witnesses." You squeezed her hand gently. "I still like you."
"I knew you would."
The artist stepped back after another minute. "Done."
Chelsea studied herself in the mirror before smiling. "I look expensive."
You looked at her. "You do."
She turned towards you expectantly. "Just expensive?"
You pretended to think. "Mmm..."
She narrowed her eyes. "I'm waiting."
"You look..." You smiled. "...like you're about to complain to at least three members of management."
Her laugh filled the room. "Now that is a compliment."
"It suits you."
The makeup artist packed away her brushes. "I'll leave you two to it before someone comes looking."
"Thank you!" Chelsea called after her.
The door clicked shut.
The room immediately became quieter. Chelsea stood, smoothing down her ring gear before walking over to where you sat. Without saying anything, she rested her forehead gently against yours. You smiled. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Chelsea."
"I just missed you."
You blinked. "...We've literally been in the same building all day."
"I know."
"But not together."
You couldn't really argue with that. Since arriving, you'd crossed paths countless times, passing each other in corridors, sharing coffee in catering, walking to production meetings. Each interaction lasted a minute or two before someone needed one of you somewhere else. Now for the first time all day nobody was asking for anything.
"You've got your match soon."
"So do you."
"You nervous?"
She shook her head. "Not really."
"You?"
"A little."
Chelsea reached up, adjusting the zip on your jacket that had folded awkwardly beneath your chin. "There."
"Thank you."
"I've also noticed..." She frowned thoughtfully. "...your necklace is backwards."
You looked down. Sure enough it was. "You've got a talent for spotting things."
"I know."
She turned it around before smoothing it back into place. "There."
"You've fixed me."
"I always do."
You smiled softly. "I appreciate it."
"I know."
A knock sounded at the open door. One of the producers leaned inside. "Chelsea, five minutes."
She gave them a thumbs up. "Got it!"
As soon as they disappeared, she looked back at you. "I've still got four minutes."
You laughed. "You timed him."
"I always do."
"You are unbelievable."
"I prefer efficient."
She reached for both your hands this time. "So."
"So?"
"What are we doing for dinner after?"
"I thought we'd order room service."
"Ooh." She nodded enthusiastically. "I like that plan."
"Pizza?"
"Definitely."
"Dessert?"
"Obviously." You smiled. "I don't think we've ever had a serious conversation about food."
"We don't need one."
"No?"
"We always agree."
"You've got me there."
Another voice echoed down the corridor. "Chelsea!"
She sighed dramatically. "They're ruining my quality time."
You laughed. "I think they're expecting you to wrestle."
"Very inconsiderate."
"You should probably go."
"I know."
Neither of you moved. Chelsea looked at you for another second before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around your waist. You hugged her back automatically. The embrace wasn't rushed. It wasn't dramatic, just familiar, comfortable. The sort of hug that happened dozens of times a week simply because it could.
When she finally stepped back, she smiled up at you. "Right."
"Right."
"You go have an amazing match."
"You too."
"I'll meet you straight afterwards."
"You always do."
She leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. Then another. "For luck."
"You've already given me luck."
"I'm giving you extra."
You laughed. "I'll take it."
One last call came from somewhere down the corridor. "Chelsea!"
She groaned dramatically. "I'm coming!"
She looked back at you one final time. "Race you to the hotel?"
"You know you'll spend twenty minutes talking to everyone after the show."
"I will."
"So I'll definitely win."
She pointed a finger at you. "Don't get cocky."
You smiled as she finally disappeared into the corridor, already greeting people she passed with the same infectious energy she carried everywhere.
You watched her go for a moment before turning towards Gorilla yourself. There were thousands of people waiting on the other side of the curtain. Matches to wrestle. Interviews to film. Photos to take. A whole evening still ahead. But somehow, your favourite part of every show had already happened. It wasn't the entrance or the crowd or even stepping into the ring.
It was those six quiet minutes in a dressing room, sitting hand in hand with the person you loved, simply because neither of you could think of anywhere else you'd rather spend them.
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By the time you finally made it back to the hotel, it was well past eleven. The adrenaline from the show had begun to wear off somewhere between leaving the arena and climbing into the rental car, replaced by the kind of exhaustion that settled pleasantly into your bones after a good night's work.
Chelsea unlocked the hotel room with a dramatic sigh. "I'm home."
You laughed behind her. "This isn't home."
"It is for tonight." She pushed the door open before immediately kicking her trainers off into opposite corners of the room. One landed neatly by the wardrobe. The other bounced off the suitcase rack.
You looked at her. "...Really?"
"I'll find it tomorrow."
"You absolutely won't."
"I absolutely won't." You bent down to pick it up anyway, placing it beside the other one. "I appreciate you."
"I know."
She smiled as she shrugged off her jacket. "I was hoping you'd do that."
"I know you were."
Tour had a funny way of making even the nicest hotel rooms blur together. Different city, different carpet, different artwork on the walls. The same crisp white bedding, the same tiny kettle, the same armchair that looked comfortable but somehow never was. You'd stopped paying much attention to the rooms months ago. The person you shared them with mattered far more than the wallpaper.
Chelsea disappeared into the bathroom to wash off her makeup while you changed into an oversized T-shirt and a pair of shorts, happily abandoning any attempt at looking presentable. A few minutes later, she emerged with damp hair tucked behind her ears and one of your hoodies pulled over her ring gear shorts.
You smiled immediately. "That's mine."
She looked down innocently. "Is it?"
"You know it is."
"I thought it looked familiar."
"It literally has my initials on the sleeve."
She examined the embroidered letters. "...That does explain it."
"You are impossible."
"I've been told."
"Mostly by me."
"Mhm."She wandered over before stealing the hairbrush from your hand. “My turn."
You turned around without even thinking. She'd done this hundreds of times before. Travelling meant constantly helping each other with the little things. Undoing stubborn boot laces, fixing zips, straightening gear, brushing out hairspray after a match. You stood quietly while she worked the brush gently through your hair, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were the soft strokes of the brush and the distant hum of traffic outside the hotel window. It was strangely peaceful. "There." She gave your shoulder a gentle pat. "All done."
You looked over your shoulder. "Thank you."
"Always."
Your fingers found hers for just a second before she wandered towards the bed. "So..." She flopped backwards onto the mattress with absolutely no elegance whatsoever. "What now?"
You glanced at the television. "We could go downstairs."
"No."
"Find somewhere for dessert?"
"No."
"Watch a film?"
"Mmm..." She considered it for a moment. "...Also no."
You smiled. "What do you want to do?"
She held one hand out towards you. "This." You slipped your hand into hers, allowing her to tug you down onto the bed beside her. The mattress bounced gently beneath your weight. Within seconds, Chelsea had shuffled closer until your shoulders touched, then your knees, then, apparently deciding that still wasn't close enough, she rested her head lightly against yours. "There."
"There?"
"Perfect."
You laughed quietly. "We're literally just lying here."
"I know."
"In silence."
"I know."
"You've chosen silence."
She smiled with her eyes closed. "I chose you."
Your heart softened immediately.
For a while that was all you did. The television stayed off, neither of you looked at your phones. Outside, the city carried on without you, headlights drifting past the window in soft streaks of light. Inside the room, time seemed to slow. Chelsea traced lazy patterns across the back of your hand with her thumb. You watched the ceiling. Every now and then one of you would point something out.
"That crack looks like Florida."
"It absolutely doesn't."
"It does if you squint."
"I'm not squinting."
"You lack imagination."
"I have excellent eyesight."
"Debatable."
Then it would fall quiet again. Not because the conversation had run out. Because neither of you felt the need to keep it going. Eventually, Chelsea rolled onto her side so she could look at you properly. "You know what my favourite part of touring is?"
You pretended to think. "The airports?"
"No."
"The rental cars?"
"They're in the top ten."
"The giant fridge magnet?"
"Current number one purchase."
You smiled. "What then?"
She reached over, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "This."
You frowned slightly. "This?"
She nodded. "The bit after."
"After what?" "The show."
Her smile was small, but impossibly fond. "Everyone always talks about the crowds, the entrances, the matches, the titles."
"They're amazing."
"They are but..." She looked around the hotel room. "...this is the bit I look forward to."
You followed her gaze. The room was nothing special. Half-open suitcases lay on the luggage rack. Your gear bags were still dumped by the door. The room service menu sat folded on the bedside table.
It was just another anonymous hotel room. "I don't get it."
"You don't?" She shook her head gently. "I don't care where we are." She squeezed your hand. "It could be the fanciest hotel in the world." "Or somewhere with questionable wallpaper and tiny towels."
You laughed. "So... every hotel."
"Exactly." She grinned. "It all feels the same. What makes it different..." Her thumb brushed over your knuckles. "...is that I get to end every day with my favourite person."
Your chest tightened. "You really mean that?"
She looked genuinely confused. "Of course I do."
"I just..." You smiled shyly. "I didn't realise you'd been thinking about it."
"I think about it every trip." She shrugged. "We spend all day making memories. Then we come back here and I get to hear about your match. You hear about mine. We steal each other's hoodies. You complain about my alarm for tomorrow. I'll complain about yours. It just..." She smiled. "...makes every city feel a little bit like home."
You reached across the space between you, cupping her cheek. "I think that's my favourite thing you've said today."
She leaned into your hand instinctively. "Really?"
"Mhm."
"I've said a lot today."
"You always do and somehow..." You smiled, brushing your thumb softly across her cheek. "...I still never get tired of listening."
Chelsea's grin was immediate. "So..."
"So?"
"I can keep talking?"
You laughed, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "I don't think I'd know what to do if you ever stopped."
She gasped dramatically. "Well, that's good."
"Why?"
"Because I've already got tomorrow's conversation planned."
You rolled your eyes affectionately. "Somehow I knew you were going to say that."
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The airport looked exactly like every other airport you'd passed through that year. Bright departure boards, the smell of coffee drifting through the terminal, rolling suitcases rattling over polished floors, sleepy travellers queuing for breakfast despite it barely being seven in the morning. If someone had asked you whether you were in Texas, Illinois or Arizona...
You probably wouldn't have been able to answer immediately. The cities had started blending together somewhere around month three, the memories hadn't.
Chelsea walked beside you, one hand hooked around the handle of her suitcase while the other stayed comfortably wrapped around yours. She yawned dramatically. "I'm tired."
"You said that before we even left the hotel."
"I've remained consistent."
"I'll give you that."
She rested her head briefly against your shoulder as the queue for security slowed to a stop. "You know what we need?"
"What?"
"A holiday."
You looked at her. "We're literally travelling."
"I know but this is work travelling."
"So?"
"I want holiday travelling."
"What's the difference?"
She thought for a moment. "Less ring gear."
"Fair."
"More beaches."
"I can get behind that."
"And absolutely no five a.m. alarms."
You laughed. "Now that sounds impossible."
"I choose optimism."
"You always do."
"I have to." She smiled up at you. "I've got you to convince."
Nearly an hour later, you found yourselves sitting by the gate with two coffees balanced between you. Your bags rested against your legs. Chelsea had slipped one earbud into your ear, keeping the other for herself while some random playlist drifted quietly between the two of you. Neither of you paid much attention to it. You were too busy watching the world go by. A little boy hurried past, proudly dragging a suitcase almost as big as he was, an older couple shared a newspaper, a group of wrestlers walked through the terminal, laughing loudly about something that had clearly happened before either of you had arrived. It all felt strangely peaceful.
Chelsea nudged your arm. "Look." You followed her gaze. A woman sat cross-legged on the floor near the window, reading a book while her husband slept against his backpack beside her.
You smiled. "That's us in thirty years."
Chelsea laughed. "No."
"No?"
"We'll still be talking."
"You think?"
"I know."
You smiled.
"I think you'll still be getting distracted."
"I definitely will."
"And you'll still pretend every airport café serves the world's best breakfast."
"They do."
"They objectively don't."
"You can't prove that."
"I've eaten them."
"So have I."
"And?"
"I remain optimistic."
You shook your head fondly. Some things, you suspected, would never change.
Your flight was delayed by fifteen minutes. Nobody around you seemed particularly pleased. Chelsea, on the other hand, leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile. "Extra coffee time."
"You'd find a silver lining in anything."
"I would."
"I know."
She looked over at you. "What?"
You glanced down at the paper coffee cup in your hands. "I was just trying to remember..."
"What?"
"...what my favourite part of this week was."
Chelsea smiled. "The giant fridge magnet?"
"It was impressive."
"The cinnamon roll?"
"Also excellent."
"The bookstore?"
"I loved the bookstore." She waited. "But?" You looked at her. "My favourite part..." A smile spread across your face almost without your permission. "...was sitting on the airport floor sharing breakfast with you."
She blinked. "Really?"
"Mhm."
"Not the city?"
"The city was lovely."
"The show?"
"The show was great."
"The shopping?"
"You bought a magnet the size of a dinner plate."
"It was iconic."
"It was." You laughed. "But none of that's what I'll remember first."
"What will you remember?"
"You stealing half my breakfast."
"I stand by that decision."
"You singing High School Musical in the rental car."
"You joined in."
"I did."
"You brushing my hair after the show."
"You looked after me too."
You shrugged gently. "It was all just..." You searched for the right word. "...us."
Chelsea's smile softened into something quieter. "I think that's why I love touring."
"You do?"
She nodded.
"I get to see all these amazing places." She gestured vaguely towards the terminal around you. "But if I'm honest..." Her fingers found yours between the armrests. "...I don't think the places are actually the point."
You intertwined your fingers with hers. "No?"
She shook her head. "I could be anywhere." She smiled. "As long as you're there too."
The boarding announcement echoed through the gate. Passengers immediately began standing despite the airline clearly calling rows one through five first. Chelsea watched the chaos unfold with amusement. "They're never going to get on any faster."
"They never do."
She stayed exactly where she was, making no attempt to join the queue. "We've got ages."
"We do."
She looked at you. "So..."
"So?"
"What city is next?"
You frowned thoughtfully. "I honestly can't remember."
She burst into laughter. "Me neither."
For a second, the two of you simply looked at each other before laughing even harder. A nearby businessman glanced over, smiling despite himself.
You wiped at the corner of your eye. "We're hopeless."
"We really are."
"But we'll figure it out."
"We always do."
Eventually your boarding group was called. You stood together, adjusting your backpack onto your shoulder before reaching automatically for Chelsea's hand. She squeezed it once. "Ready?"
You looked out through the huge windows lining the terminal. Another plane, another flight, another city waiting somewhere beyond the cloud, another week of arenas, hotels, rental cars, early alarms, airport breakfasts, bookshops, late-night room service, tiny adventures that would probably sound completely ordinary to everyone else.
You smiled. "Yeah."
Chelsea tilted her head. "For the flight?"
You shook your head. "For another week with you."
She grinned, slipping her fingers more firmly through yours as the two of you joined the queue. The destination would fade eventually. The airport would blur into the next one. The hotel keycards would end up forgotten in the bottom of a suitcase. But years from now, when neither of you could remember what city you'd flown into on a random Tuesday in the middle of tour you knew you'd still remember sharing one breakfast, singing far too loudly in a rental car, browsing a quiet bookstore, lying in a hotel room doing absolutely nothing.
Because the places had never been what made those trips unforgettable.
It had always been the person you were lucky enough to experience them with.
The women's locker room buzzed with the familiar rhythm of another tour morning. Hair dryers hummed somewhere near the mirrors. Someone was hunting for a missing boot. Music drifted faintly from a speaker balanced precariously on top of an open suitcase, changing songs every few minutes as different people connected their phones. It felt less like a workplace and more like organised chaos. Which, after long enough on the road, had somehow become comforting.
You sat cross-legged on one of the sofas, phone balanced in your hands, your attention completely stolen by an article you'd stumbled across over breakfast. A grin slowly spread across your face. "Oh." You scrolled a little further. "Oh, that's adorable."
Across the room, Rhea looked up from lacing her boots. "What is?"
"You have to look at this."
She didn't move. "You've said that before."
"And?"
"It was a goat wearing pyjamas."
"It was cute. it was wearing little ducks."
"It was." She smiled despite herself before pushing herself off the bench. "I still don't know why you thought I needed to see it."
"Because you're my best friend."
"I walked right into that one."
You beamed as she dropped onto the sofa beside you. "Exactly."
You held your phone out towards her. "It's not another goat."
"It better not be."
"It's a little independent bookshop."
Rhea frowned. "...Okay?"
"It's only ten minutes from the arena."
She looked between the screen and your excited expression. "And?"
"And look."
You swiped through the photos. Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, dotted with cosy armchairs, trailing plants and little handwritten recommendation cards. One corner housed an old café with mismatched furniture and homemade cakes displayed beneath glass domes. "Oh my God." You all but bounced where you sat. "They've got a resident cat."
Rhea couldn't help smiling. "I knew there was a catch."
"His name's Marmalade."
"Of course it is."
"Apparently he just walks around judging everyone."
"I respect that."
You laughed. "So..." You nudged her shoulder. "Wanna come?"
Rhea's expression immediately shifted into one that you recognised all too well. The apologetic one. "I can't."
Your shoulders fell just a fraction. "Oh."
"I've got media after lunch."
"Right."
"Then photos."
"Yeah."
"And Priest wants to go over something before the show."
You nodded, already smiling again. "That's okay."
"You sure?"
"Mhm."
"There'll be another city."
"There always is."
It wasn't unusual. Every week you found something, a museum, a café, a bakery, a little market tucked down a side street. Half the fun of touring, to you, was remembering that every city had people who called it home. You liked seeing the bits that weren't arenas and airports.
Most weeks nobody else had the time or the energy. You'd never really minded exploring on your own.
Rhea reached over, gently bumping your knee with hers. "I would've come."
"I know."
"If I wasn't working."
"I know."
"You know I like your weird little adventures."
"They're not weird."
"They're a little weird."
"They're charming."
"They're weird."
You laughed. "They can be both."
"They absolutely can." Rhea glanced back at your phone. "You gonna bring me back a picture of the cat?"
"I'll bring you several."
"Good."
"And maybe a bookmark."
"You don't read."
"I know."
"I'll still get you one."
"See?" Rhea shook her head affectionately. "That's why I can't say no to you."
You smiled. "I wasn't trying to convince you."
"I know."
"You're just nice."
"Unfortunately."
"Very unfortunate. You make it difficult to maintain my terrifying reputation."
"I think the tattoos do most of the work."
"And the resting bitch face."
"You don't have one."
"I absolutely do."
"You've smiled at me six times this morning."
"That's because you're annoying."
"You love me."
Rhea rolled her eyes. "I tolerate you."
"You bought me coffee."
"You forgot your wallet."
"You also bought me a muffin."
"You looked sad."
"I wasn't sad."
"You looked like you were about to be."
You laughed, leaning your head briefly against her shoulder. "I appreciate you."
"I know."
A voice echoed from the doorway. "Catering?"
You looked up to find a handful of people already heading out for lunch. Perfect timing. You slipped your phone into your pocket before standing. "Come on."
Rhea pushed herself to her feet. "I suppose I need feeding."
"You absolutely do."
"You buying?"
"You know I can't afford to keep buying your lunch."
"I was testing my luck."
"You fail every week."
"One day."
"You've got a better chance of convincing Jey to pay."
Rhea snorted. "Now that's funny."
The two of you wandered out into the corridor together, still talking over one another as you made your way towards catering. The arena seemed even busier now. Crew members hurried past carrying lighting equipment. Someone jogged in the opposite direction with a headset clutched in one hand. A producer called after one of the referees disappearing around the corner. You smiled to yourself, you loved this part, not just the wrestling, everything around it. The people. The routine. The feeling that every week, no matter what city you woke up in, you were surrounded by familiar faces. As you stepped into catering, the smell of fresh coffee and warm food immediately greeted you.
Rhea reached for a tray. "So..."
She glanced sideways at you. "Who are you going to ask?"
You looked at her innocently. "What do you mean?"
"You ask someone every week."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
"I just..." You shrugged. "...don't like exploring by myself if I don't have to."
Rhea smiled. "I know."
Your eyes drifted around the room, searching more out of hope than expectation. Most people were already sitting in little groups. Chelsea and Tiffany laughed loudly at one table, Damian and Truth occupied another, a few members of production sat in the corner discussing the night's show. You drew a small breath. Maybe everyone really was busy this week.
Then, from across the room your eyes met Solo's. He'd been sitting quietly near the end of one of the tables, halfway through his lunch. The second he noticed you looking over, he gave a small nod.
You smiled automatically, lifting your hand in a cheerful wave. "Hi, Solo!"
He nodded again. "Hey."
Rhea looked between the two of you. Then back at Solo. Then at you.
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You should ask him."
You blinked. "Solo?"
"Mhm."
"I don't know him that well."
"So?"
"What if he thinks it's weird?"
Rhea looked over your shoulder just in time to see Solo glance in your direction again before quickly looking back down at his plate. "No," she said quietly, a knowing smile growing on her face. "I don't think he'd think it was weird at all."
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Catering slowly emptied as people disappeared in different directions. Some headed for production meetings. Others drifted towards the gym. A handful made a beeline for the coaches' office, folders tucked under their arms. You stood near the drink station, absent-mindedly stirring your iced coffee as you looked down at the map on your phone. The bookstore was only a twelve-minute walk away, you could easily go on your own, you always had before.
Still, Rhea's words lingered in the back of your mind. You should ask him.
You glanced up. Solo was still sitting at the same table, finishing his lunch in complete silence while the room buzzed around him. He didn't seem busy. But then again he never really seemed anything.
You smiled to yourself. What's the worst he can say?
Taking a quiet breath, you walked over. "Hi again."
Solo looked up almost immediately. "Hey."
"You, um..." You shifted your coffee from one hand to the other. "...you busy?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Oh." You smiled. "Good."
A tiny crease appeared between his eyebrows, waiting patiently for you to continue. "I found this little bookshop nearby."
You held your phone out so he could see the photos. "It has a café." He looked. Then looked at you. Then back at the phone. "They've got a cat." Another beat of silence. "Marmalade." You pointed excitedly at the orange cat sprawled across one of the armchairs. "He just walks around the shop apparently."
Solo studied the picture for a second longer than you'd expected. "...Orange."
"Very." You laughed. "I was going to walk over before call time." You suddenly felt a little awkward. "You don't have to or anything. I just thought..." You rubbed the back of your neck. "...if you weren't doing anything..."
Before you'd even managed to finish the sentence, "I'll come."
You blinked. "...Really?"
He nodded once. "Yeah."
Your face lit up so quickly it almost caught him off guard. "Oh!" You smiled so brightly it made something warm settle quietly in Solo's chest. "Okay."
He stood, grabbing his hoodie from the back of the chair. "When?"
You glanced at your watch. "Now?"
"Okay."
"...You don't need convincing?"
"No."
"You don't want to think about it?"
"I'm thinking." You waited. "...I wanna go."
A grin spread across your face. "Perfect."
You turned towards the exit. "This way."
Solo fell into step beside you without another word.
The walk into the city was comfortable almost immediately. Not because either of you filled every second with conversation. Because you didn't feel like you had to. You happily pointed out things as you noticed them. "Look."
Solo followed your gaze. A tiny dog wearing an oversized yellow raincoat trotted proudly past its owner. He looked at the dog. Then at you. You were already smiling. "...Cute."
"I know."
A few minutes later "Oh!"
"What?"
"There." You pointed towards a mural covering the side of a brick building. "I love finding stuff like that."
Solo stopped beside you while you admired it for a moment. "You take pictures?"
"Mhm. You don't?" He shook his head. "You should."
"...Maybe."
You snapped a quick photo before continuing down the street.
The conversation drifted naturally. Mostly led by you. "So where's your favourite place you've wrestled?"
Solo thought for a second. "...Japan."
"Oh?"
"Mhm."
"Why?"
"The crowds."
"They're loud?"
He smiled faintly. "...Sometimes."
You laughed. "I've heard they're amazing."
"They are."
"What about yours?"
You looked thoughtful. "I think..." A smile spread across your face. "...Honestly?" He nodded. "I don't think it's about the cities."
"No?"
"It's the random little memories."
He looked across at you. "What kind?"
"Oh..." You started counting on your fingers. "The bakery in Boston, the beach in San Diego, the old record shop in Nashville, the woman in Seattle who gave me an extra cookie because she liked my earrings."
Solo listened quietly. "...I barely remember the arenas."
You smiled. "But I remember all the little adventures."
He looked ahead for a moment. Then quietly said, "...That's nice."
You looked over at him. "You think?"
"Mhm."
"You should come on more." The words left your mouth so casually you barely thought about them. "You'd probably like it."
Solo didn't answer straight away. Instead a tiny smile appeared. "...Yeah."
"I think I would."
The bell above the bookshop door chimed softly as you stepped inside. Immediately, the noise of the city disappeared. Warm lighting spilled across rows and rows of wooden bookshelves. The café in the corner smelled faintly of cinnamon and fresh coffee. Someone sat curled up in an armchair reading by the window.
And, just as promised an enormous ginger cat lay sprawled across the middle of the front counter, completely unbothered by the customers wandering around him.
You gasped quietly. "Marmalade."
Solo looked towards the cat. "...Big."
"He is!"
You crouched down beside the counter, holding one finger out carefully. The cat lazily stretched before rubbing his head against your hand. Your smile somehow became even brighter. "Oh, hello."
Solo stood a couple of feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He wasn't looking at the cat anymore. He was looking at you. Watching the way you laughed softly every time Marmalade bumped his head against your hand. Watching how excited you became over something so small. You looked happy. Completely, effortlessly happy. "You were right."
You looked back at him.
"Hm?"
"He's friendly."
"I told you!" You stood again. "Come here." Solo hesitated. "You can pet him."
"I don't..."
"Marmalade likes everyone." You held your hand out towards him. "Come on."
For reasons he couldn't quite explain Solo stepped closer. You gently guided his hand towards the cat's head. "There." Marmalade immediately leaned into the scratch behind his ears.
Solo's eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. "...Huh."
You laughed. "I know."
"He's soft."
"I know."
For the next few seconds neither of you said anything. You simply stood shoulder to shoulder, absent-mindedly petting a sleepy bookstore cat while the world outside carried on without you.
Eventually, you looked over at him with an easy smile. "I'm really glad you came."
Solo looked back at you. There wasn't even a second's hesitation. "...Me too."
And somehow. he realised he wasn't talking about the bookshop. He wasn't even talking about the cat. He was talking about spending the afternoon with you.
He just didn't know it yet.
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A week later, another city greeted you through the aeroplane window. From above, it looked like every other place you'd flown into over the past few months, grids of roads, clusters of buildings, tiny cars moving like ants beneath scattered clouds. You still smiled anyway. Every city had something worth finding. Even if it was just a good coffee shop.
The rental bus rumbled towards the arena while conversations drifted lazily around the seats. Some people slept with their heads against the windows. Others watched films on their phones. Chelsea and Tiffany were halfway through a debate about whether cereal counted as soup. You decided it was safer not to get involved.
Instead, you pulled out your phone and opened the little folder you'd created months ago.
Tour Ideas.
Each city had its own note.
Little recommendations you'd saved from TikToks, travel blogs, Instagram reels and comments
from fans. Bookshops, vintage markets, parks, museums, independent cafés. You scrolled until you found today's city. Your eyes lit up immediately. "Oh..."
Across the aisle, Rhea looked over the top of her sunglasses. "What've you found now?"
You turned your phone around. "A little bakery." Rhea studied the photos. It was tucked into a narrow brick building with flower boxes beneath every window. Glass cabinets displayed rows of pastries dusted with icing sugar, and handwritten menus hung behind the counter. "They make cinnamon rolls the size of your head."
Rhea nodded approvingly. "Now you've got my attention."
"They've also got homemade hot chocolate."
"Hm."
You watched her hopefully.
"You coming?"
She sighed dramatically. "I wish."
"So that's a no."
"I've got media."
"Again?"
"I'm very popular."
You snorted. "So I've heard."
"And after media I've got rehearsal." She reached over and squeezed your knee. "But you should still go."
"I probably will."
"You definitely will."
"I don't like wasting cities."
"I know." Rhea smiled to herself. "I know."
By the time everyone had settled into their locker rooms and grabbed something to eat, the familiar pre-show routine had already begun. The corridors filled with producers carrying clipboards. Music drifted from somewhere near Gorilla. Someone hurried past balancing four takeaway coffees.
You wandered into catering with your phone already unlocked. "Okay..."
Chelsea looked up immediately. "There it is."
You frowned. "What?"
"The face."
"What face?"
"The 'I've found somewhere' face."
Tiffany laughed. "Where's today's adventure?"
You grinned. "A bakery."
Chelsea clasped her hands together dramatically. "I love bakeries."
"I know."
"But I've got glam."
"I know."
"You'll bring me something back?"
"If there's anything left."
"There better be."
You laughed, looking around the room. "So..." Your voice lifted just enough for the nearby tables to hear. "...anyone fancy coming?"
There was a chorus of responses.
"I've got a meeting."
"Need a nap."
"Sorry."
"Maybe next week."
You nodded happily. "No worries." You'd expected as much. You turned to grab your water bottle
"I'm coming."
You smiled before you even looked up.
Somehow you'd expected that answer too. Solo stood from his chair, sliding his phone into his pocket.
Jimmy watched him. Then looked at Jey. Then back at Solo. "...Again?"
Solo glanced over. "What?"
"You goin' to another little café?"
"It's a bakery." You corrected automatically.
Jimmy grinned. "My bad."
"A bakery." Solo gave a single nod. "Mhm."
Jey rested his elbows on the table. "I thought you were gonna hit the gym."
Solo shrugged. "Later."
Jimmy frowned theatrically. "You hate crowds iIt's the middle of the afternoon, it'll be busy."
Another shrug. "S'alright."
Jey slowly leaned back in his chair. "Huh."
Solo ignored him completely, looking back at you instead. "You ready?"
You smiled brightly. "Yeah."
As the two of you headed for the door, Rhea appeared carrying two bottles of water. She watched you leave. Then looked at the twins. "You two seeing this?"
Jimmy didn't take his eyes off the doorway. "Oh, we're seeing it."
The bakery smelled like butter before you even opened the door. Warm air wrapped around you as little bells chimed overhead. Behind the glass counter sat rows of pastries in every shape imaginable. Croissants, fruit tarts, cookies, brownies. And right in the centre the enormous cinnamon rolls.
You gasped. "They weren't lying."
Solo looked at them. "wow."
"They're huge!"
You turned to him with the excitement of someone who'd just discovered buried treasure. "We're sharing one."
He blinked. "I don't really—"
"We're sharing one."
He almost smiled. "...Okay."
A few minutes later you managed to carry the oversized plate to a little table by the window. Two forks. One cinnamon roll. One hot chocolate. One coffee. You stared at the pastry. "I think this could feed a family."
Solo picked up his fork. "You first."
"No." You pushed the plate slightly towards him. "You came because I invited you."
"You first."
You narrowed your eyes playfully. "We're doing this?"
"Mhm."
"...Fine." You cut off a ridiculously oversized bite. It nearly fell off the fork. You laughed. "This is impossible."
Solo watched you carefully balance it all the way to your mouth. The second your eyes widened he already knew. "It's good?"
You swallowed quickly. "Oh my God."
"That good?"
You nodded enthusiastically. "You have to try it."
You cut another piece before holding your fork out without thinking. "Here." The moment froze for half a second. You realised what you'd done. "Oh!" Your cheeks warmed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to” Before you could pull the fork back Solo leaned forward slightly and took the bite anyway. Your brain stalled completely. "...Sorry."
He looked at you, chewing thoughtfully. Then gave one decisive nod. "...Good."
You laughed, relief washing over you. "I know!"
For the next twenty minutes, the two of you slowly demolished the cinnamon roll while you talked about everything and nothing. You told him about the tiny aquarium you'd visited on your last holiday. He admitted he'd never actually been inside one. "You've never been?" He shook his head. "You'd love it."
"Mhm?"
"They've got little jellyfish."
He smiled faintly. "You like jellyfish?"
"I like everything."
"I noticed."
You laughed. "I can't help it."
"No." He looked out of the window for a second before quietly adding, "...I don't think you should."
The words were so quiet you almost wondered if you'd imagined them. You looked at him. "What?"
He met your eyes. "You always get excited."
You smiled sheepishly. "I do."
"It's nice."
Warmth spread through your chest. "Thanks."
He just nodded, taking another sip of his coffee.
It wasn't until your phone buzzed with a reminder for call time that you realised nearly an hour had disappeared. You blinked. "We should probably head back."
Solo checked the time. "...Yeah."
Neither of you sounded particularly enthusiastic about it. As you stood, you carefully folded the leftover half of the cinnamon roll into a takeaway box. "You taking it?"
You nodded. "Chelsea threatened me if I came back empty-handed."
Solo's mouth twitched. "...Fair."
You laughed.
Together, you stepped back out into the sunshine and began the walk towards the arena. As you chatted away beside him about where next week's tour stop might be, Solo found himself doing something he almost never did. He hoped there would be another little adventure. Not because he cared about bakeries or bookshops or museums. But because somewhere between sharing one cinnamon roll and listening to you talk about jellyfish with complete sincerity he'd realised those afternoons had quietly become his favourite part of every tour stop.
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The following week, you found yourself in another city, another hotel, another arena, another little pin waiting to be added to the map you kept saved on your phone. You smiled to yourself as you walked through the loading bay, suitcase rolling behind you. Every place felt new.
That was your favourite part. No matter how many times you'd toured, there was always another little coffee shop to discover or another street to wander down.
Rhea fell into step beside you, coffee already in hand. "So."
"So?"
She took a sip. "What's today's adventure?"
You laughed. "I haven't decided yet."
"You've definitely decided."
"I've narrowed it down."
"How many options?"
"...Five."
Rhea groaned. "Five?"
"I couldn't choose."
"You never can."
"I like them all."
"You always do."
You unlocked your phone as the two of you walked through the maze of corridors, pulling up the folder labelled Tour Ideas. "Okay." You turned the screen towards her. "So there's a botanical garden."
"Mhm."
"A tiny comic book shop."
"Mhm."
"A second-hand record store."
"Mhm."
"Oh!" You scrolled again. "And apparently there's a little family-run ice cream place that makes everything fresh every morning."
Rhea smiled despite herself. "You're impossible."
"I know."
"I swear you get more excited about exploring than wrestling."
You gasped dramatically. "I can love two things."
"You definitely can."
As you reached the women's locker room, Rhea nudged your shoulder. "So..."
She looked at you over the rim of her coffee cup. "Which one are you taking Solo to?"
You blinked. "What?"
She looked completely innocent. "I didn't say anything."
"You absolutely did."
"I asked a question."
"I haven't even asked anyone yet."
"Mhm."
"You think he's coming?"
"I do."
"What makes you think that?"
Rhea only smiled. "You'll see."
By lunchtime, the arena had settled into its familiar rhythm. People drifted in and out of catering between meetings, music played quietly from someone's speaker, a production assistant hurried through carrying enough paperwork to bury themselves under.
You wandered in with your tray balanced carefully in one hand. The moment Chelsea spotted you she pointed her fork in your direction. "There she is."
You frowned. "What?"
"Explorer."
You laughed. "I have a name."
"Barely."
Tiffany looked up. "So where are we going?"
You looked around the table in confusion. "What do you mean 'we'?"
"The imaginary group that asks before abandoning us."
"I don't abandon anyone."
Chelsea smiled. "You kind of do."
"I invite everyone."
"You do."
"You all say no."
"Correct."
"So that's hardly my fault."
Rhea sat down beside you, trying very hard not to smile. "So..." She rested her chin on her hand. "Where are you going today?"
You pulled your phone out. "I found this botanical garden."
Chelsea immediately sighed. "I'd actually love that but I've got glam."
You'd barely finished speaking when a familiar voice came from behind you. "I'll come."
Without even thinking, you smiled. "Hi, Solo."
He gave a small nod as he stopped beside the table. "Hey."
You looked up at him. "I found a botanical garden."
"Mhm."
"They've got butterflies."
He nodded once. "...Okay."
"I thought we could walk there."
"Okay."
You smiled brightly. "Perfect."
Across the table Chelsea slowly lowered her fork.
Tiffany looked at Rhea.
Rhea took a very deliberate sip of her drink.
Chelsea leaned a little closer. "...Has he..."
Tiffany whispered back, "...been on every one?"
Rhea didn't answer. She simply raised one eyebrow.
The three of them watched as you happily continued telling Solo about the botanical garden while he listened with complete attention, occasionally asking the odd quiet question. "...They've got a koi pond too."
"Mhm."
"And apparently a greenhouse full of orchids."
He nodded. "...Sounds nice."
"I thought so."
You looked at your watch. "Oh."
"We should probably head off soon."
"Yeah." Solo hadn't even picked up his tray yet. He simply turned around. "I'll grab my stuff."
"Okay!"
You smiled after him before sitting back down. Only then did you notice the three women staring at you. "...What?"
Chelsea blinked. "Nothing."
Tiffany nodded far too quickly. "Absolutely nothing."
Rhea looked down at her lunch to hide the grin spreading across her face.
You frowned. "You're all being weird."
"Nope."
"Very normal."
"The normalest."
You narrowed your eyes. "I don't think that's a word."
"It is today."
You laughed, shaking your head. "You lot are strange."
As soon as you wandered off to refill your water bottle Chelsea immediately turned to Rhea. "...Okay."
Rhea smiled into her coffee. "What?"
"What is happening?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
Tiffany nodded. "I've literally never seen Solo volunteer for anything."
Rhea leaned back in her chair. "I know."
Chelsea frowned thoughtfully. "Has he ever said no to her?"
The three of them fell silent. Thinking. Rhea counted on her fingers. "Bookshop, bakery, botanical garden."
Chelsea added, "He was with her at the airport last week."
Tiffany looked up. "And I saw them walking back from the hotel together after SmackDown."
Another pause.
Rhea finally smiled to herself. "...Huh."
Chelsea looked at her. "'Huh?'"
"I think..."
Rhea glanced across the room just in time to see Solo return with his backpack slung over one shoulder, automatically walking over to where you were waiting by the door.
You smiled at him. He nodded back. Without discussing it, the two of you fell into step beside each other and disappeared down the corridor.
Rhea watched until you were out of sight. Then she looked back at Chelsea and Tiffany. "I don't think he's going because of the places."
Chelsea's eyebrows shot up. "You think he's going because of her?"
Rhea smiled knowingly. "I've had that feeling since the bookshop."
Tiffany laughed softly.
"Oh..." Chelsea grinned. "...He's got it bad."
Meanwhile, completely unaware of the conversation you'd just inspired, you looked over at Solo as the afternoon sunshine hit your face outside the arena. "You know..."
"What?"
"I've never actually been to a botanical garden before."
He looked at you. "No?"
You shook your head. "So..." A smile spread across your face. "...we get to experience our first one together."
For reasons he couldn't quite explain that made him smile too.
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Another Friday, another city, another arena. By now, it had become something of a tradition. You'd arrive, you'd unpack just enough to make the hotel room feel lived in, you'd spend the morning bouncing between production meetings, rehearsals and catching up with everyone you'd only seen a few days earlier.
Then, somewhere around lunchtime you'd appear with your phone. "So..."
The word barely left your mouth before Jimmy called across catering. "Where we goin' today?"
Laughter rippled around the room. You smiled. "I haven't even said anything yet."
"You don't gotta." Chelsea pointed her fork towards you. "You found somewhere."
"I did."
Jimmy leaned back in his chair. "Course you did."
You laughed, unlocking your phone. "There's a little market by the river."
"Mhm."
"They've got handmade jewellery."
"Mhm."
"Oh! and apparently someone sells homemade fudge."
Chelsea looked tempted for a split second. "...No. I've got hair."
Tiffany shook her head. "I've got media."
Rhea smiled into her coffee. "I've got absolutely nothing..." Your face brightened. "...But I'm not coming."
You pouted dramatically. "Traitor."
She shrugged. "I'm busy."
"You just said—"
"I'm busy."
"You've become very suspicious recently."
"I've always been suspicious."
You narrowed your eyes. "I don't believe you."
Jimmy was already looking past you. "You gonna ask him?"
You turned. "Him who?"
As if summoned simply by the conversation Solo walked through the catering doors. Jimmy couldn't help himself. He looked at Jey. Then dramatically checked an imaginary watch. "Right on time." Jey snorted into his drink.
Solo frowned. "What?"
"Nothin'."
"You sure?"
"Mhm."
You looked between the three of them in complete confusion. "...Have I missed something?"
"Nope."
"Not at all."
Jimmy waved you off. "So..." He nodded towards Solo. "Ask him."
You blinked. "I was going to."
"I know."
"...How?"
"'Cause you always do."
You laughed. "I don't always."
"You absolutely do."
You walked over to Solo before anyone else could continue whatever strange joke they were all apparently in on. "Hi."
"Hey."
"I found a market." He waited. "There'll be food."
"Mhm."
"And jewellery."
"Mhm."
"And there's a man who makes tiny glass animals."
For the first time since you'd met him Solo's eyebrows lifted just a little. "...Glass animals?"
You nodded enthusiastically. "Tiny ones."
He thought for all of half a second. "...Let's go."
The market wound its way alongside the river in a patchwork of colourful stalls. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed above your heads despite the afternoon sun still shining brightly. The smell of fresh bread mixed with coffee and cinnamon drifted through the warm air. Someone nearby played an acoustic guitar while children chased each other between the stalls.
You smiled almost immediately. "I love places like this."
Solo glanced at you. "I know."
"You do?"
"You always smile."
Your smile somehow grew even wider. "I do."
"You do."
You wandered slowly, stopping every few feet because something else caught your eye. "Oh!" You hurried towards a stall covered in tiny ceramic animals. "They're adorable." Solo followed without complaint. You picked up a tiny duck no bigger than your thumb. "Look."
He looked. "...Cute."
"It has a little hat."
"It does."
You laughed quietly before setting it back down. At the next stall, an elderly man sat behind dozens of tiny blown-glass animals that glittered in the sunlight.
You crouched down almost immediately. "They're beautiful."
The man smiled warmly. "Take your time."
You carefully admired each one. Foxes. Owls. Whales. Tiny turtles no bigger than your fingernail. Then You spotted it. "Oh..." You reached for a tiny orange cat. Its tail curled around its paws exactly like Marmalade's had in the bookshop.
The man noticed your smile. "You like that one?"
"It reminds me of a cat I met."
He chuckled. "That's a good enough reason."
You turned it carefully between your fingers before reluctantly placing it back down. "It's really pretty."
Solo looked from the cat to you then quietly wandered a few steps away while you became distracted by another display. A minute later, you thanked the stall owner and continued walking.
Completely unaware that Solo had lingered behind for just a moment.
"You know..." You looked over as the two of you walked along the river.
"What?"
"I've noticed something."
Solo glanced at you. "What?"
"You've started talking more."
He looked genuinely surprised. "I have?"
"Mhm. At first I think I spoke enough for both of us."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You still do."
You laughed. "I know but..." You nudged his shoulder lightly. "...I like hearing what you've got to say."
For a moment, he didn't answer. Then quietly, "I like listening."
"I know."
"It makes it easy."
"What does?"
A small shrug. "Being around you."
Your heart softened. "I hope that's a good thing."
"It is."
The words came so naturally that neither of you really stopped to think about them.
You eventually found a quiet bench overlooking the river. You sat down with two lemonades and a paper bag full of warm fudge you'd somehow been convinced to buy after sampling "just one piece." You tore off a tiny square and held the bag out. "Wanna try?"
Solo nodded. "Mhm."
He reached into the bag only for your fingers to brush. It was barely a second. Barely anything at all.
Yet somehow neither of you moved straight away. You looked up. His eyes were already on you. The sounds of the market seemed to fade into the background. For just a heartbeat it was only the two of you, then someone shouted happily across the river.
The moment broke. You smiled shyly, looking back down at the bag. "...Sorry."
"For what?"
"I don't know."
"You didn't do anything."
"I know."
He took the piece of fudge, turning it over thoughtfully before taking a bite.
You watched him expectantly. "Well?"
He chewed. Then nodded once. "...Good."
You laughed. "That's all I get?"
"It's really good."
"There we go."
He almost smiled. "You happy now?"
"Very."
The two of you sat there for a while longer, watching boats drift lazily past.
It wasn't silent. But it was quiet. Comfortable. The sort of quiet that only existed between two people who never felt any pressure to fill every pause.
Eventually, you sighed happily. "I think this might be my favourite one."
Solo looked at you. "The market?"
You shook your head. "The afternoon."
He followed your gaze to the river. "Mine too."
He wasn't talking about the market.
And this time he knew it.
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
The pattern became impossible to ignore, not for you, you were still blissfully unaware.
But for everyone else?
It had become the easiest game on tour.
Every new city, someone would ask exactly one question.
"Where's she taking Solo today?"
Another Monday, another airport, another early morning. The women's locker room hadn't quite woken up yet. Chelsea sat curled up on the sofa with a coffee almost as big as her head. Tiffany scrolled through her phone. Rhea was attempting to convince herself that six in the morning should be illegal.
You wandered in with your backpack still slung over one shoulder. "Morning!"
Rhea looked up. "You're smiling."
"I am."
"It's six."
"I know."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You found somewhere."
Your grin widened. "...Maybe."
Chelsea groaned dramatically. "She's done it again."
You laughed as you dropped into the seat beside Rhea. "It isn't even that exciting."
"What is it?"
"A little aquarium."
Rhea blinked. "...An aquarium?"
"They've got rescued sea turtles."
Rhea chuckled. "So..." She leaned back. "You asking him?"
You frowned. "Him?"
"The very large Samoan who's apparently become your personal tour guide."
You looked genuinely confused. "You mean Solo?"
"Mhm."
"I mean..." You shrugged. "I'll ask everyone."
Chelsea and Rhea exchanged a look. Neither of them said a word.
By lunchtime, the game had already begun. Jimmy spotted you walking into catering with your phone in your hand. He didn't even look up from his lunch. "There she is."
Jey glanced over. "What's today's adventure?"
You smiled. "Aquarium."
Jimmy nodded thoughtfully. "Nice." Then he looked around the room. "Where Solo at?"
As if the universe enjoyed proving him right the catering doors opened. Solo walked in.
Jimmy immediately slapped Jey's arm. "There."
Jey burst into laughter. "I swear he got a tracker."
Solo frowned. "What?"
"Nothin'."
"You keep sayin' that."
"'Cause there ain't nothin'."
You walked over before the twins could confuse you any further. "Hi."
"Hey."
"So..." You unlocked your phone. "I found an aquarium."
"Mhm."
"They've got rescued sea turtles."
He nodded. "Okay."
"And little penguins."
"Mhm."
"And jellyfish."
Something softened in his expression. "You like jellyfish."
Your face lit up. "You remembered?"
He looked almost surprised that you'd sounded so pleased. "...Yeah."
You smiled. "I do."
He nodded once. "I'll come."
Before you'd even asked.
You blinked. "Oh. I..." A little laugh escaped you. "I was actually about to ask."
"I know."
"You knew?"
"Mhm."
"You would've said yes?"
He looked at you as though there wasn't another possible answer. "Yeah."
You smiled so warmly it made his chest tighten. "Okay, meet you after lunch?"
"Mhm."
"Perfect."
You wandered off towards the dessert table, happily humming to yourself.
The second you were out of earshotJimmy slowly turned towards Solo. "Bro."
"What?"
"You ain't even let her finish."
Solo frowned. "So?"
"So?" Jey laughed. "She didn't even ask yet."
"I knew what she was gonna say."
Jimmy leaned forward. "And you already knew your answer."
"...Yeah."
The twins stared at him. Completely speechless.
Finally, Jimmy spoke. "You know you could say no."
"I could."
"But you don't."
"No."
"Why?"
Solo looked genuinely confused by the question. "'Cause I wanna go."
Jey rubbed a hand down his face. "That ain't what I'm askin'."
Solo stayed quiet.
Jimmy tried again. "You don't even like aquariums."
"I never said that."
"You've never been."
"So?"
"So why you goin'?"
Solo opened his mouth. Then paused. His answer should have been easy. He could have said he wanted to get out of the arena. He could have said he was bored. He could have blamed the sea turtles. Instead the only honest answer sat quietly in his chest. Because she asked. Because she smiled when he said yes. Because somewhere between bookshops and bakeries and markets those afternoons had become the part of tour he looked forward to most.
He didn't say any of that. He simply shrugged. "...Sounds fun."
Jimmy stared. Then looked at Jey. "You hear that?"
Jey nodded solemnly. "I heard it."
"He lying."
"He lying real bad."
Solo rolled his eyes. "I ain't lying."
"You are."
"You hate museums."
"I went."
"You hate shopping."
"I went."
"You don't even drink coffee."
"I still went."
Jimmy stood dramatically, pointing across the room towards where you were laughing with Rhea over something one of the catering staff had said. "You know why."
Solo followed his finger automatically. You were still smiling, still laughing, still completely oblivious to the fact that three people were talking about you. His expression softened without him noticing.
Jimmy caught it immediately. "There."
Jey nodded. "There."
"What?"
"That."
Solo looked back at them. "What?"
"The face."
He frowned. "What face?"
Jimmy couldn't stop grinning. "The one you get every time you look at her."
Solo opened his mouth to argue. Nothing came out. Because for the first time he wasn't entirely sure they were wrong.
An hour later, the two of you wandered slowly through the cool, blue-lit aquarium. A rescued sea turtle glided lazily past the glass. You pressed your hands together excitedly. "Look."
Solo didn't answer, you turned. He wasn't looking at the turtle. He was looking at you. "What?"
He blinked, as though you'd caught him doing something. "...Nothin'."
You smiled. Then looked back at the turtle.
Neither of you noticed Rhea standing on the upper level with Damian Priest, looking down into the enormous central tank. She glanced from you, to Solo then smiled to herself. Damian followed her gaze. "...What's that look for?"
Rhea folded her arms. "I've been watching this happen for about a month."
"Happen?"
She nodded towards the two of you. "He hasn't looked at a single fish."
Damian frowned. "...Huh."
Rhea laughed quietly. "Exactly."
"He keeps saying yes because of the adventures." She shook her head. "No." Damian looked back down just in time to see you excitedly point at another exhibit, immediately setting off towards it. Without hesitation Solo followed. Not because he'd read the sign. Not because he cared what was in the next tank. Simply because you were going there. Rhea smiled. "He'd follow that girl anywhere."
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
A few weeks passed, a few more cities, a few more little adventures. A record shop where you spent twenty minutes trying to convince Solo to buy a vinyl player despite the fact he didn't own a single record. A tiny art gallery where you accidentally spent almost an hour sitting on a bench trying to decide whether one abstract painting was "deeply moving" or "just three blue circles." An animal sanctuary where Solo had quietly become attached to a goat that kept following him around.
You'd laughed so hard you'd nearly cried. "You've got a friend."
He looked down at the goat. "...Mhm."
"I think he likes you."
The goat nudged his leg. Solo reached down absent-mindedly to scratch behind its ears. "...He's alright."
You'd taken approximately twelve photos. Rhea had made one of them her lock screen.
By now, the adventures had become expected. Not just by everyone else.
By you.
You found yourself looking forward to them as much as the shows.
Because somewhere along the way you'd stopped thinking of them as exploring new cities. They'd simply become your afternoons with Solo.
You were halfway through getting ready when your phone buzzed. A single message.
Solo: You busy?
You smiled. He never texted much. Usually only if it was important or apparently if there was a free afternoon.
You quickly typed back.
You: No! Why?
Three little dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Solo: Found somewhere.
Your eyebrows lifted. Solo? You replied almost immediately.
You: You found somewhere??
This time, his response came a little quicker.
Solo: Thought you might like it.
For a second you simply stared at your screen a smile slowly spread across your face.
You found him waiting just outside the hotel lobby. Hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. Just like always. Except, this time, you weren't the one holding directions on your phone. "You planned today?"
He nodded. "Mhm."
"I'm impressed."
A tiny smile appeared. "I remembered."
"You remembered what?"
"You always find places."
"I do."
"So..." He shrugged. "...Thought I'd find one."
Something warm fluttered in your chest. "Okay."
"So where are we going?"
He started walking. "You'll see."
It turned out to be a little hill overlooking the city. Nothing touristy. No cafés, no markets, no museums. Just a quiet walking path leading up to an old stone viewpoint where you could see almost the entire skyline. The afternoon sun painted everything gold. You slowly turned in a circle. "Solo..." He looked over. "This is beautiful."
"Mhm."
"How did you find it?"
"I asked."
"Who?"
"Hotel guy."
You laughed. "You asked the concierge?"
"He said tourists don't usually come here."
You looked out across the rooftops again. "I can see why."
"It’s quiet."
"It is."
"I thought..." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "...you'd like that."
You smiled at him. "I love it."
For a while, neither of you spoke. You simply leaned against the old stone wall, watching the city stretch endlessly beneath you. The breeze tugged gently at your hair. Somewhere below, a church bell rang. It was peaceful, wonderfully peaceful.
Eventually, you looked sideways at him. "So..."
"What?"
"You've never suggested somewhere before."
He nodded. "I know."
"What changed?"
He was quiet for a long moment. "You always plan everything."
"Mhm."
"You always find nice places."
"I try."
"So" Another shrug. "Thought it was my turn."
Your heart squeezed. "You didn't have to."
"I know."
"But I wanted to."
The simplicity of the answer stole every other thought from your head. You looked back out at the view, trying to ignore the strange warmth blooming in your chest. It lingered there, long after the conversation had ended.
As the sun began to dip lower, you sat on a nearby bench, sharing a packet of crisps you'd picked up from a vending machine in the hotel lobby. You nudged the packet towards him. "Last one."
He looked inside. One lonely chip remained. "You have it."
You shook your head. "No. You."
"We're doing this again?"
"Mhm." You laughed.
"You're impossible."
"So I've been told."
You reached into the packet at exactly the same moment he did. Your fingers brushed, again.
This time neither of you pulled away immediately.
You looked up. He was already looking at you. Not saying anything. Just looking.
Your stomach fluttered, it was different. You couldn't explain how. It just was.
You smiled first. "What?"
He blinked, almost as though you'd pulled him out of a thought. "...Nothin'."
"You keep saying that."
"Mhm."
"But it never feels like nothing."
For the first time since you'd met him Solo looked genuinely flustered. His eyes dropped to the packet in your hands. "Sorry."
Your smile softened. "You don't have to apologise."
A comfortable silence settled between you again. Only now it didn't feel quite the same.
Because for the first time you caught yourself wondering why Solo had remembered how much you loved finding hidden little places. Why he'd gone out of his way to ask someone at the hotel. Why he'd wanted to surprise you. Why every spare afternoon for the last two months had somehow ended with the two of you wandering through another city together. The answers should have been obvious, yet somehow, you'd never really stopped to ask the question.
Until now.
As you looked over at him again, watching the breeze lift the edge of his hoodie while he quietly admired the view, one thought settled gently into the front of your mind.
Maybe, these little adventures hadn't become your favourite part of tour by accident.
Maybe they had become his favourite part too.
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
The next city arrived with grey skies and light rain. The kind that never seemed to fall particularly hard, yet somehow managed to soak everything anyway.
By lunchtime, the arena had settled into its usual rhythm. Music echoed faintly from somewhere down the corridor. People wandered in and out of catering between rehearsals. Crew members rushed past with headsets pressed against one ear. Nothing about the day felt unusual.
Until you walked into catering. Phone already in hand.
Rhea noticed first. "Oh no."
You looked up innocently. "What?"
"You've found somewhere."
"Maybe."
Jimmy, who'd only just sat down with his lunch, let out a dramatic groan. "Every week."
"I don't force anyone to come."
"No." He looked across the room. "You don't have to."
You frowned. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing." Jey coughed into his drink to hide a laugh. Chelsea smiled into her coffee. Tiffany suddenly found the table incredibly interesting.
You looked between all of them. "Why are you all being weird?"
"We're not."
"You are."
"We're really not."
"You definitely are." You narrowed your eyes suspiciously before giving up. "Fine." You unlocked your phone. "So..." "I found this little planetarium."
Jimmy immediately looked towards the catering doors. "Three..."
Jey grinned. "Two..."
Chelsea bit her lip. "One..."
Almost on cue the doors opened. Solo walked in. He paused for barely a second before spotting you. Then naturally he started walking over.
Jimmy threw both hands into the air. "I TOLD YOU!"
Solo frowned. "What?"
"You ain't even got here yet!"
"Okay?"
"You don't know where she going."
Solo looked at you. You smiled. "Hi."
"Hey."
"I found a planetarium."
He nodded once. "Okay."
"It starts in forty minutes."
"Mhm."
You smiled. "Wanna come?"
"Yeah."
Jimmy physically dropped his fork onto the table. "There!"
Jey buried his face in his hands. Chelsea laughed so hard she nearly knocked over her drink.
You looked around the room, completely bewildered. "What?"
Jimmy pointed dramatically at Solo. "You!"
"What?"
"You ain't even askin' questions no more!"
Solo blinked. "I know where we're going."
"That's not the point!"
You looked between them. "I'm confused."
"We know." Rhea laughed softly. "You've both been confusing for weeks."
You frowned. "We have?"
Jimmy looked at Solo. "You tell her."
Solo stayed quiet Jey nudged him. "Go on."
Another silence. The room somehow became noticeably quieter. Even a few people at nearby tables had started pretending not to listen. You looked at Solo. "You don't have to if they're teasing."
He looked back at you. Then quietly said, "They're right."
You blinked. "About what?"
A long pause. Long enough that you wondered if he was going to change his mind. Instead he looked down at the floor for a second before meeting your eyes again. "I don't really care where we're going."
Your smile faltered slightly. "You don't?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Oh." For some reason That stung a little. You looked down at your phone. "I thought you liked the adventures."
"I do."
"You just said-"
"I like 'em" He searched for the words. Then found them. "...'Cause you're there." Silence. Complete silence. "I'd go anywhere with you." His voice stayed as calm and steady as it always was. As though he wasn't quietly turning your entire world upside down. "It could be a bookshop, a bakery, a museum, a walk, I don't really mind." Another tiny shrug. "My favourite part" His eyes never left yours. "isn't where we go." Your heart pounded. "It's spending time with you."
No grand declaration. No dramatic speech. Just the truth.
Simple. Honest. Entirely Solo.
You stared at him for what felt like forever. Then, very quietly "So" Your smile slowly returned. "if I told you I'd actually forgotten to plan something today..." He waited. "You'd still want to go?"
"Yeah."
"What if we just walked around for an hour?"
"Mhm."
"What if we sat in a coffee shop?"
"Okay."
"What if we bought absolutely nothing and just wandered?"
A tiny smile appeared. "Sounds nice."
You laughed softly, warmth blooming right through your chest. "So" You stepped a little closer. "It was never about the places."
He shook his head. "Never."
"It was me?"
Another nod. "Always."
You felt your cheeks warm. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were the one struggling to find the right words. Then you smiled. The same bright smile he'd quietly fallen for somewhere between a sleepy bookshop cat and an oversized cinnamon roll. "I've got an idea."
He tilted his head. "What?"
You slipped your phone into your pocket. "No plans, no maps, no recommendations. Just…” You held your hand out towards him. "let's go and get lost."
For a second, Solo simply looked at your outstretched hand. Then, without hesitation, he slipped his fingers into yours. His hand was warm. Steady. Like it had always belonged there.
A quiet chorus of exaggerated sighs echoed behind you.
Jimmy clutched dramatically at his chest. "'Bout damn time."
Jey laughed. "I've been watchin' this for two months."
Rhea just smiled, arms folded across her chest. "I told you all."
Chelsea leaned against Tiffany with a grin. “I knew the adventures were dates."
"They weren't dates," you protested, laughing.
Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "You spent every week exploring cute places with one man."
You opened your mouth. Closed it again. "...Oh."
The entire room burst into laughter.
Solo looked down at you, the corner of his mouth lifting into that rare, soft smile you had learned to treasure. "What?"
You nudged his shoulder. "You could've told me."
He shrugged. "I liked watching you figure it out."
You laughed, intertwining your fingers with his a little more securely. "Come on."
"Where we going?" You smiled up at him. "I haven't got the slightest idea."
For once, there was no carefully researched itinerary. No saved TikToks. No list of hidden gems waiting on your phone. Just a rainy city. A free afternoon. And the boy who had quietly turned every ordinary adventure into your favourite memory.
Solo gave your hand a gentle squeeze as you stepped out into the corridor together. He had been right all along.
it's been three days since you promised jimmy that you'd quit smoking. he hadn't asked you to but you wanted to be healthier; for yourself and him. you've tried nicotine patches, chewing gum; anything to replace that hand-to-mouth motion you were so used to.
"now i understand why sunflower seeds didn't help mr. sir's mood from holes", you grumble to yourself as you pop a fresh piece of gum into your mouth.
you settle into the couch with an ebony magazine, trying not to think about the emergency pack of cigarettes you have hidden in your underwear drawer. you glance at the clock for the tenth time; it's 3:17am. jimmy should've been back from that frat party already. your foot jiggles nervously as you try your best to focus on the magazine, the nicotine gum in your mouth already flavorless.
reaching for your pink motorola razr, you call him. it rings and rings until you get his voicemail "yo it's big jim, you know what to do. leave it at the beep". you roll your eyes and snap your phone shut.
where the fuck is he?
if only you had a cigarette to take the edge off.
just one wouldn't hurt... right?
no...
you promised yourself and jimmy...
but his ass still ain't back yet so... maybe you could have one before he gets back.
just one.
you spit out the gum in the trash and gun it to your underwear drawer. you pull out the pack of emergency marlboro reds with a lime green lighter taped to the box. you go back to the couch, take a cigarette out of the box, put it between your lips, and light it. you inhale, savoring that sweet smoke hitting the back of your throat. you're not even into your second drag, when jimmy finally stumbles back to your dorm, tipsy and giddy from the party. he sees you on the couch, smoke curling from your lips.
"baby...", he says. guilt laced in his voice as he realizes how late he actually is. you scowl at him.
"don't 'baby' me. i called you so many times" you pout, taking another drag. he sits on the bed, rubbing his tired eyes.
"my phone died, i didn't mean to stay out this late", he says as he eyes the cigarette between your fingers. "you smokin'?" he asks.
you shrug your shoulders. "these withdrawals are a bitch", your voice lowers as you look away. "plus, i... missed you".
"c'mere..."he says softly. you reluctantly walk over to him, standing in between his knees. his hands wrap around your waist. you let him pull you onto his waist. cigarette still between your fingers, you take another drag.
"why you bein' so hard on yourself, baby? i already told you, i don't have a problem wit' it.", he says.
"maybe you should...", you say as you lower your eyes. he tilts your chin up. you feel his fingers take the cigarette from yours.
"what you doin?", you ask.
he puts the cigarette between his lips, inhaling awkwardly.
"damn", smoke sputtering out of his mouth as he laughs.
you can't help but laugh as you take the cigarette back. "you don't smoke foo, what you do that for?"
"i know..." he smiles. you wrap your legs around his waist. he places his strong hands on your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks. he's so pretty like this—slightly buzzed, messy curls framing his face, eyes glassy and wet, that smile beaming up at you. you missed your man so much, even though he was only gone for a few hours.
"i'm still mad at you, you know." you whisper. your eyes look at his lips and back to his eyes. you want to kiss him but you hesitate, wanting to remember him exactly like this.
"you ain't gon forgive me, mama?", his voice becomes low and sweet, that voice he uses to get out of trouble. that voice that works on you
every
single
time.
you don't answer. he rests his forehead against yours as he takes the cigarette from you again. you watch him bring it to his lips, inhaling. "c'mere, open your mouth" he murmurs. his hand cradles your cheek as you lean in, just hovering over his. he blows the smoke into your mouth as you inhale it. your breaths becoming one. you hold his smoke in as long as you can, not wanting to let the moment end just yet.
summary: Treasure knew better than to fall for pretty words. She already had a man at home, even if the relationship been dead for a minute. But when quiet, observant Jimmy Uso starts slipping into her space during late nights out with her girls, she finds herself craving the one thing she swore she wouldn’t fall for again: A man who knows exactly what to say. And sugar talking can only sweeten a bad situation for so long.
fanfic is 18+ NO MINORS ALLOWED
warnings: heavy making-out, mentioned of abuse, oral (f receiving)
word count: 12.3k (another lengthy one)
smut warning: it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I am improving at the moment
Jimmy Uso x Treasure
comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍
ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.
I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios
again mdni you have been warned.
title inspired by the song “Sugar Talking” by Sabrina Carpenter
thanks to my friend @charmed-dreamssss for helping me with the summary 🫶🏽
TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @sharmelasworld @spiicii @theusotwinzcom @mingisfavgf @trippiexlove @wisteria-bae @yourleogf @wrestlingprincess80 @jeyseyes @liv4jey @uceyjucey @mikaelsonharem7 @yyaktayak @lyricailove
It was ten-thirty in the morning, and the sunlight streamed through the curtains downstairs while birds chirped outside. The house was enveloped in silence, with only the sound of Jimmy sleeping soundly.
He and Treasure were nestled together on the couch, her head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped protectively around her waist as they both enjoyed a peaceful slumber.
Their breaths were in perfect harmony.
However, that tranquil slumber was abruptly interrupted by the vibration of Jimmy's phone on the coffee table, prompting a groan of annoyance from him. He opened his eyes slowly, noticing Treasure sleeping soundly on his chest as he gently reached for his phone.
He noticed that his brother was calling, so he decided to answer it.
“What Fool?” Jimmy asked out of annoyance, voice hoarse from sleep.
“Where yo’ ass at dawg? I had to open up shop for us cause yo’ ass was sleeping.” Jey said over the phone.
Jimmy paused for a moment to blink before glancing at his phone, noticing it was 10:30 AM.
“Shit…” he cursed underneath his breath.
“Yeah, no shit sherlock. Bring yo’ ass.”
He gazed down at Treasure, who stirred in her slumber, brushing her hair aside to reveal her face more clearly. She appeared so serene while she slept.
He placed the phone over his ear. “I’m kinda of tangled up right now.”
“What’chu mean tangled up?”
It got silent for a moment before Jey got the hint.
“Oh shittt, is Treasure with you?”
“Yeah, but she’s sleeping right now.”
“Okayy, my boy. I see you got some.”
Jimmy rolled his eyes.
“Nah, we kept it slow and steady at her pace. Not doing allat with her.” Jimmy said, watching her shift in her sleep.
“Such a gentleman.” Jey replied.
“Unlike someone I know.”
He could hear Jey smacking his teeth over the phone. “Man, whatever. just bring yo’ ass to work after you and shawty get done cuddling it up.”
“Bye twin.” With that, Jimmy ended the call and set the phone back on the coffee table, wrapping his arms around her waist in a protective embrace once more.
All he could recall were the events that unfolded between them the previous night.
It was imprinted in his brain like crack.
It happened so suddenly.
Them passionately making out
Marking each other’s bodies
Then back to kissing
The thought crossed his mind, causing a smirk to form on his lips.
At that moment, he heard a gentle groan from Treasure as she stirred, her eyes fluttering open to survey her surroundings, realizing she had spent the night on the couch with Jimmy.
She shifted her gaze to Jimmy, who was already awake, offering her a warm smile.
“Good morning, Miss Sleeping Beauty.” He said.
She whined, hiding her face in his neck which made him chuckle.
“What time is it?” She asked, voice groggy from the sleep.
“It’s 10:30 in the morning.” Treasure nodded her head—lying back down on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.
She could feel his warm hands underneath the blanket rubbing against her back.
“I gotta get up though ma.”
Treasure whined softly, “do you have to get up?”
“You comfortable where you at?”
“Yes, and you feel so warm, cuddly like a teddy bear.”
Her affectionate demeanor brought a smile to his face as he looked intently into her rich brown eyes, mirroring her actions by gently tracing her finger down his chest.
“Well, I have to get up for work. Before Joshua calls me again complaining in my ear.” Jimmy says.
She smacked her teeth. “Five more minutes.”
“Treasure.”
“Five more minutes Jimmy, Pleaseeee.” She was giving him puppy eyes, something he couldn’t resist causing him to sigh, nodding his head as she smiled at him.
Jimmy shakes his head.
“You’re something else mama. You know that?”
“That’s because I get whatever I want.”
“Oh really? You think pouting like a puppy is going to get you anything you want?”
“Yes, indeed.”
They both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before chuckling.
“A’ight, whatever you say mama.” Jimmy said.
A hush enveloped them, with only the sound of birds chirping and cars driving by—Jimmy intertwined his fingers with hers, gently toying with her digits.
“Yo’ hands are tiny as fuck.”
Treasure shot him a look.
“Well you have big ass hands so of course my fingers are gon be tiny.”
“Touché mama, but c’mon I gotta get ready for work and take you home.”
A chill ran through her veins upon hearing that, and for some strange reason, she was reluctant to return home.
Not in this state, with hickies marking both sides of her neck and even on her thighs. The previous night had been intensely passionate for both of them.
It caused her to sit up abruptly, a look of confusion on her face.
“I cannot go back home looking like this.” She says, showing off her hickies on her neck which made him grin. “Fix your face now.”
“What? I’m just admiring my masterpieces, that's all.” He said.
Treasure rolled her eyes and started to stretch her body, emitting a soft groan that caused her shirt to ride up, revealing a glimpse of her lower body, while Jimmy simply observed her.
He gradually sat up too, keeping her steady on his lap, his shirtless torso adorned with hickies and his hair in disarray.
While she was distracted, he gently took her chin and pressed a tender kiss against her lips.
“Jonathan.”
Jimmy looks at her innocently, titling his head.
“What mama?”
“You cannot be doing that.”
He sat up straight, leaning in closer to her face, allowing his tongue to moisten the lower part of his lips.
“Why not hm? You wasn’t saying that last night.” Jimmy teased.
She instantly fell silent, averting her gaze from him as her cheeks began to flush with color.
“That’s what I thought.”
She smacked him on his arm.
“Shut up, I swear you’re annoying.” She clapped back.
Jimmy laughed softly at her, shaking his head as his smile grew broader. It was at that moment they heard footsteps descending the stairs, capturing both of their attention. They turned their heads to see Mama Fatu making her way down, noticing the two of them.
“Good morning you two.” Mama Fatu greeted them, with a grin on her face.
As soon as Treasure got off his lap and settled beside him, they quickly composed themselves, prompting Mama Fatu to chuckle as they made their way into the kitchen. There, she began gathering ingredients for breakfast from the fridge and cabinet.
Meanwhile, Jimmy rose from the couch and walked over to the kitchen to embrace his mama with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Morning Ma.” Jimmy replied.
She checked the time on the clock and started prepping for breakfast. “Dont you gotta be at work boy?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, briefly looking at Treasure before redirecting his focus to his mother.
“Yes, Ma’am. But I overslept so I’m finna get ready right now.”
“Alright Son, are you taking Treasure home?”
Jimmy shakes his head. “Nah, not yet. I was going to later on though.”
Mama Fatu had a smile on her face. “That means she can stay for dinner then.”
Dinner?
She darted her attention towards Treasure, smiling at her. “Would you mind staying for dinner dear?”
“Yes, of course I can. I don’t have anything planned tonight.” Treasure said.
“Perfect.” Mama Fatu replied. “Why don’t you come help me cook some breakfast.”
Treasure rose from the couch and made her way to the kitchen, where Mama Fatu and Jimmy were busy. She started assisting Mama Fatu in preparing breakfast while Jimmy observed them closely.
He watched as she selected the seasonings for the eggs, adding them to the bowl one by one before whisking them together, appreciating the moment of connection between his mother and her.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed, indicating that Jey had sent a message—he knew Jey would be on his case for arriving late as if he owned the place.
“A’ight, imma get ready and head out before your son gets all pissy.” He announced.
“Okay dear, drive safe okay?”
He kissed his mother on the cheek. “I gotchu ma.”
He locked eyes with Treasure, who offered him a subtle smile, likely thinking that he felt shy about expressing his feelings in front of his mother, before she redirected her focus to the eggs.
However, her smile faded the moment she glanced away from him.
He noticed it as well.
While she waited for the skillet to heat up, listening to Mama Fatu chatter away about something, she suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist, causing her to flinch. Turning her head, she saw his tall figure looming over her.
“Yes?” She asked.
They locked eyes, their noses nearly touching, lips almost brushing against each other. It was as if she was holding her breath, captivated by the depth of his almond-shaped gaze.
“Your smile dropped.” He mentioned.
Damnit
She pretended like she didn’t drop her smile. “It didn’t.”
“It did and I saw you. We lying now?”
“I’m not lying Jimmy…” Treasure set the pan spray on the skillet, allowing it to heat as she attempted to free herself from Jimmy's hold. However, he drew her nearer to his chest, whispering softly in her ear. “Stop runnin’ from me mama.”
His deep voice sent chills down her spine.
“I-I….” He pressed a passionate kiss against her neck, causing her knees to weaken beneath her.
She cracked the eggs into the skillet, starting to cook them while stirring until they transformed into a fluffy scramble, adding cheese for an extra burst of color and taste.
Jimmy leaned in to plant another lingering kiss on her neck, followed by a gentle peck on her cheek before he finally pulled back.
“I’ll see you later aight?” Jimmy said.
Treasure nodded, fully aware that her mind was racing with countless thoughts after everything that had happened, and she had so much to share with Liv about last night.
As his footsteps receded from the kitchen, she kept preparing breakfast alongside his mother. Then, Mama Fatu made a comment that caught her attention.
“My son is a very affectionate man, once he gets attached he changes into a whole different person. You seem like a great young lady for him and.” She paused for a moment eyeing down at Treasure’s neck. “I can see that he didn’t waste no time with marking you?”
Treasure felt embarrassed trying to hide her face as Mama Fatu playfully hit her on the arm.
“I’m just teasing you dear.”
All she could do was smile at her hoping that today would go smoothly.
✎ᝰ.
Afternoon came around as the shop was steady with folks coming in for appointments to get cover ups on some stupid tattoos folks would get or get their tattoos done, Jimmy had just got done with a client that came in for a cover up as he was telling his client about changing the saniderm wrap after 3 to five days before cleaning it and replacing it.
The music was booming in the speakers in the background as everyone was doing their task, Jimmy wiped down his station making sure that his area was sanitized before the next client had showed up.
That’s when Jey had spoken up. “Soooo are we not going to address the elephant in the room.”
Jimmy glanced at his brother as he tossed a paper towel into the black trash bin, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “And what is that?”
Jey aimed his Apple Pencil at Jimmy's neck, which was covered in hickies, as if he didn't care at all about hiding them before coming to work.
He looked at himself in the mirror spotting the hickies.
“What about them?” Jimmy asked nonchalantly.
He smacked his teeth at his brother.
“Dawg, c’mon. you got all of those hickies on your neck. Don’t be acting nonchalant about it.” Jey replied.
“I’m not acting like anything.”
“Then just admit that you and treasure were messing around last night at mama’s house.”
Jimmy shot him a look. “Don’t say it like that.”
Jey had his hands on his hips like a typical dad.
“Then how do you want me to say it?” He asked.
“Don’t say it like we fucked, it was nothing like that last night.”
Silence hung over them as the music changed to a different song hearing the bass booming.
“What was it like then?” Jey questioned him.
Jimmy stroked his beard, fully aware that his brother would persistently nag him for a real answer until he finally provided one.
“We were in a heat of the moment last night, that’s all.”
Jey had looked at Jacob then back at Jimmy with a suspicious look on his face. “That wasn’t the ‘heat’ of the moment last night from what I’ve seen. It looks like yall wanted to do all of that kissing and tonguing each other down for a minute ever since you met her at the club.”
He rolled his eyes at him. “Believe what you want to believe.”
“See here he go being in denial again.”
“I’m not in denial about anything.”
“You are in denial about it because why are you being this hostile?”
Before he had the chance to speak, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He quickly retrieved it, unlocked his device using Face ID, and checked his notifications. Among them, he noticed a message from Treasure along with several other alerts.
One message from Treasure🧘🏼♀️
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: hey dummy hows work?
He chuckled, typing his thumb away.
Jimmy🩶: it’s been steady for a min, and I’m getting questioned by my own brother rn.
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: about what exactly?
Jimmy🩶: about the hickies on my neck.
Bubbles appeared.
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: oh I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to mark u up like that last night
Jimmy🩶: it’s all good mama u don’t need to apologize we were just very deep into it last night.
Very deep into it.
He saw bubbles appearing then disappearing.
And reappearing again.
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: oh okay, Liv hasn’t said anything about it yet.
The 'oh okay' response felt insincere, especially when she changed her tone to mask the fact that it was actually bothering her, even though it clearly was.
He noticed all the little things about her.
Typing his thumbs away.
Jimmy🩶: did me saying that bother u?
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: no it didn’t but I understand tho we were in a heat of the moment last night consumed by weed and alcohol.
Jimmy🩶: Treasure.
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: no I get it but it’s okay tho, but imma ttyl bc Liv is yappin my ear off.
Jimmy muttered a curse under his breath as he watched her activate Do Not Disturb on her phone. He set his own phone down beside him, let out a deep sigh, and rubbed his hands over his face.
His brother and cousin quickly picked up on his stress, noticing his agitation right away.
“You good twin?” He asked.
He nodded his head, hearing the door bell ringing.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m straight, we got a customer coming in, let's focus on work.”
Jey remained silent, ending the conversation as he walked toward the entrance to welcome the customer. In the meantime, Jimmy prepared his station for the customer, reflecting on the entire discussion he had with Treasure, aware that he needed to meet her after work.
She seemed so conflicted about it.
The way she ended the conversation and placed her phone on DND.
It seemed as though she was accustomed to this specific scenario in her relationship with Giovanni; however, the reality was that Jimmy was completely different from Giovanni in every way.
He didn’t want her to overthink things.
He wanted her to communicate with him.
Breaking these kinds of habits.
In a bustling salon across town, Treasure and Liv were surrounded by satisfied clients who were coming in and out, all pleased with their new hairstyles. Soft R&B music filled the air, complemented by a TV playing in the background for the clients' entertainment.
Liv couldn't help but notice that her best friend had yet to mention the hickies on her neck, nor had she acknowledged them at all. Treasure seemed preoccupied, barely checking her phone throughout the day.
This lack of communication made Liv anxious.
She was aware that Treasure and Jimmy had indulged in alcohol and weed the previous night at his mother's house, which likely led to an intense makeout session and possibly more after Liv had left.
Determined to get to the bottom of things, Liv planned to pull Treasure aside when the salon quieted down. After her last client departed, she seized the opportunity.
Treasure was busy tidying her station, sweeping up hair clippings and tossing plastic from a hair product package into the bin. As she worked, she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find Liv standing right behind her.
“Yeah?” Treasure spoke.
“Let’s talk bestie.” Liv said softly.
“Okay.” She stopped sweeping the floor placing the broom next to the chair—grabbing her phone while following Liv towards the couches in the lobby.
Once they sat down on the couch that’s when Liv said something.
“Are we going to talk about the hickies on your neck and why you’ve been avoiding checking that phone?” She says.
Treasure sighed deeply. “There’s nothing to talk about, when we were just in the heat of the moment last night. It didn’t mean anything.”
Liv raised an eyebrow.
“Did he say that?”
“Well…” she trailed off. “Not exactly like that, but he said we were deep into it.”
She saw Liv slap her hand against her face.
“And you assumed he said something like that? Oh we were in the heat of the moment. That sounds like something Gio would say but Jimmy doesn't seem that type of guy.”
She didn’t understand why did it bother her so much.
“Bestie, you’re pushing him away, you know that right?”
“I’m not trying toooo. But fuck man.” She said running her fingers through her hair in frustration.
“Ressi, all of those things you and him were doing together. Isn’t that what you want?”
Yes it is what she wants.
“It is….i can’t stop thinking about it you know? It’s like I wanted more and more from Jimmy.” Treasure confessed.
“Then why don’t you tell him that then? And if it’s because of Gio girl fuck him like honestly. You cannot let Giovanni ruin this for you.”
Giovanni was the main reason why, all of those insults from him through their messages and putting her down like she was nothing to him.
When’s she’s been everything to him.
Just for him to act like she doesn’t matter.
She held her head down.
“So it’s because of Gio ain’t it?” Liv asked.
Treasure nodded her head not looking at her hearing Liv scoffed underneath her breath.
“I’m so sick of his ass Ressi, and I don’t like this version of you.”
“He’s been blowing up my phone since last night at the party, just questioning me. I don't even think I want to go back there…” she replied.
“See nah, you a grown ass woman he don’t need to be acting like that for real. Lemme see your phone.”
Without a moment's hesitation, she handed Liv her phone, watching as Liv unlocked it using her password. As she scrolled through the notifications, it became clear that Jimmy had sent her several texts, followed by a flurry of messages from Giovanni.
“You’ve been ignoring Jimmy too?”
“I-I…didn’t mean to…what is he saying?”
Liv read through his messages.
“He just said that he was coming to see you at work during his lunch break, and that he misses you including some other things.” That caught her attention that he missed her.
“He misses me?”
She nodded her head showing her his messages.
Now she felt bad for ignoring him. “I feel horrible ignoring him over something small that could’ve been talked about but I avoided that.”
Liv wrapped her arm around her shoulders.
“Y’all can still talk about it but you cannot always run away from things like this.” Liv said.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Treasure replied.
At that moment, they heard the doorbell ringing, thinking it was just another client. However, as they emerged from the lobby, they were surprised to find Jimmy waiting there, holding two bags of food in his hands.
Naturally, Jey and Jacob were right there with him.
“Hey, mama.” Jimmy said.
She gazed at him with a smile as he tilted his head, suggesting they find a secluded spot to eat and converse without anyone eavesdropping.
Treasure glanced back at Liv and the others, silently pleading for assistance by mouthing the word 'help,' but they all responded with a shake of their heads.
“They’re going to make up to be honest.” Jey said.
“Oh most definitely.” Liv agreed.
As soon as they found a secluded spot, Jimmy closed his truck door with a satisfying click. He handed Treasure her favorite meal—a bag filled with lemon pepper wings, accompanied by ranch dressing and a side of fries.
How did he know that this was her favorite meal?
A heavy silence enveloped them as they shared a meal in his truck. Not a single word was exchanged; they simply listened to the sounds of passing cars.
Treasure was uncertain whether to break the silence or let it be, occasionally stealing glances at Jimmy. She noticed a ketchup stain on the side of his mouth, prompting her to wipe it away with her thumb, which caught his attention.
“You had something on the side of your mouth.” Treasure mentioned.
“Oh shit thanks.” Jimmy said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
And then it went silent once again.
Treasure tugged at the hem of her shirt, letting out a deep sigh of frustration as she gazed at him.
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to ignore you over something small like that…when I could’ve just talked to you about it. I’m just so used to these types of things with Gio…and I know you aren’t like him but…” she vented.
She continued on, "I understand that last night was just us in the heat of the moment, maybe it didn’t mean as much for you as it did for me…because it’s been so long. So long since a man has given any type of affection or given me attention.”
“I miss it…but I always have this voice in the back of my mind saying that I don’t deserve this…I-I don’t know it sounds stupid.”
She exhaled gently, as if she had been holding her breath for an eternity—gazing out the car window.
He remained seated, gazing at her as she expressed her frustrations about having to pause eating his food.
“Treasure, look at me.” He said softly. “Look at me mama.”
That’s what got her.
Treasure locked eyes with him, peering into his almond-shaped brown eyes as if she were on a quest to uncover something hidden within them.
“I get it I really do, I don’t want you to shut me out. Just talk to me. I'm here for you don’t feel scared to talk to me about anything you hear me?”
She nodded her head.
“Good.” All she could do was smile warmly at him, feeling his hand gently cradling her chin, his thumb softly gliding across her cheek as she leaned into his touch, embracing it.
“teine aulelei” Speaking in his language that she didn’t understand made her tilt her head confused like a puppy.
“Hm?” Treasure responded.
“I said pretty girl in Samoan.” She hummed in response, taking a bite of her lemon pepper wings and finding out he was speaking his language suddenly attracted her.
“What else can you say in your language?”
“You’re interested?”
Treasure nodded her head. “Indeed, you sound sexy….talking like that…”
Jimmy grinned.
“I do huh?”
“Mm-Hmm I wanna hear more.”
His massive hand seized her throat, drawing her face nearer to his, his lips grazing her ear, leaving her utterly disoriented.
Whispering in her ear. “tama aulelei, e vave ona avea oe ma a'u.”
Placing a wet kiss on her cheek then her jawline.
“tama o le a sa'o oe.” He says softly
“What’chu whispering in my ear boy?” She asked.
“Some sweet shit mama.”
“Oh yeah?”
All he could do was stare into her deep chocolate brown eyes, shifting his gaze from her lips back to her eyes. He completely lost track of the food that lay before them.
Her cheeks flushed a bright red as she turned her head away, feeling overwhelmed by his irresistible charm.
He gently grasped her chin, licking his lips in anticipation.
“vaai mai ia te au pepe.”
She started to feel flustered.
“J-Jimmy, our food is gonna get cold.”
Jimmy glanced down at their food with an indifferent look, his mind elsewhere as he admired her beauty, which was clearly for her own benefit.
He shut the lids of their meals, carefully placing them back into the bag one by one, the sound of crinkling bags filling the air as he set them in front of her. Then, he slid into the backseat, leaning against the plush leather of his truck.
With his arms stretched across the seat, he waited for her.
He gestured for her to join him.
Treasure paused momentarily, scanning her surroundings to ensure no one was watching before she climbed into the backseat, settling onto his lap. As she did, she felt his hands instantly move to her ass.
He began to rub in gentle circles while she grasped his shoulders for balance.
“You’re very touchy you know that.” Treasure said.
He grinned.
“Ion hear you complaining though mama.” Jimmy replied as he continued to rub circles around her ass.
“Maybe because I like it.”
He tilted his head. “Oh for real? Tell me what else you like me doing to you.”
She gently ran her fingers along his tattooed arms, locking eyes with him. His dark gaze made her feel a rush of nerves, as if he were silently expressing a desire to consume her right there in his truck.
“I like it when you…kiss me, touch me, make me feel seen like I matter, make me feel wanted. And I like it when you show dominance wrapping your hand around my throat…and if I’m being honest..” she expressed while taking a moment. “It turns me on…”
She noticed a subtle shift in his facial expression as he straightened up, still holding her on his lap.
“It turns you on when I do this.” Jimmy's hand encircled her throat while she gripped his wrist, her gaze fixed on him as she bit her bottom lip.
That made him chuckle knowing that she was a little freak, a shy one at that.
“You a little freak aren’t you baby?” He said softly seeing her nod her head.
“Only for the right person.”
“Am I the right person to bring it out of you?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He nodded his head looking at her lips then back into her eyes before saying.
“Stick yo’ tongue out fa’ me then.”
Her eyes went wide open at his request, already feeling her cheeks getting red and he noticed it right away, placing a soft kiss on her cheek getting her warmed up.
He kissed her cheek once more trailing it down to her jawline towards her neck as she felt this electric shock down her back.
Her pussy started throbbing something she hadn’t felt in months.
Jimmy was giving her bite marks causing her to moan softly, she could feel how hard his dick was underneath her making her pussy throb even more.
Once he trailed his kisses back up to her cheek he pulled back looking at her seeing her face all flustered that made him chuckle at her seeing how cute she looked.
Planting a soft kiss on her lips with his eyes locked onto her deep chocolate brown eyes, as she tenderly massaged his curls, fully aware of his fondness for her touch.
One kiss turned into Two kisses
And the third turned into four
After that it started to turn into a whole makeout session in the backseat of his truck.
Her fingers tangled deeply in his curls, causing him to grip her ass tightly, his nails pressing into her skin as she let out a hiss of pain.
She ground her hips against his lap.
Their kiss was chaotic, tongues dancing within each other's mouths, one taking control over the other as if they had done this countless times before.
Muffled moans and groans escaped from both their lips.
As she continued to grind on his lap, he held her steady, guiding her hips to move rhythmically against his hardened member.
With one hand around her throat and the other on her hips, he directed her movements as they lost themselves in a passionate make-out session.
“Ou shit mama, just like that.” Jimmy muffle between kisses.
Jimmy had bit the bottom of her lips pulling it back before going back into the kiss making it sloppy.
“fuck, jimmy, fuck.” Treasure muffles back.
His erection pressed firmly against the fabric of his sweats ignited a fire within him as he gripped her tightly, lifting Treasure and drawing her down onto him.
With his feet firmly planted on the floor for enhanced stability, Jimmy lifted and thrust his hips against her. Each movement resonated with their intimate moments, the outline of his erection rubbing against her, while the damp fabric of her panties pressed against her clit.
He broke away from the kiss, trailing wet kisses along her jawline, kissing it gently as she moaned his name.
“Jimmmy.” She whines.
Jimmy looks up at her with his almond-shaped eyes watching her crumbling on his lap.
“o le a le pepe? o le a.” He whispers gently in her ear. “o le mea lea na e mana'o ai purinisese.”
Treasure melted at the way his native language rolled off his tongue to smoothly have her mind all tangled up all over the place.
Couldn’t even form words together earning a slap on her ass.
“Huh baby?”
“Y-yes…”
“What?”
“Yes, Jimmy, yes. Jesus.”
He smiled, biting his lower lip, captivated by the sight of her. Watching her hips sway and her head tilt back as she clung to him for balance put him in a trance.
“Looking so sexy mama, grinding on my dick like this.” Jimmy grunted.
“You feel so big jimmy…” Treasure moaned.
“You want this big dick inside of you mama? Hm? Is that what you want?”
Without even thinking, being too caught up she says. “Fuck me, come fuck me.”
This prompted him to lift her and press her against the leather seat of his truck, securing her hands above her head while he locked his gaze onto hers.
Seeing her chest heaving up and down.
“Not like this treasure.”
Treasure’s facial expression changed into a confused expression.
“What? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that I—“ Jimmy pressed a soft kiss on her lips to shush her troubled spirits.
They make out for a second finger being tangled in his curls once more pulling him closer so they could be closer together.
Chest to chest
Foreheads pressing against each other
Nose brushing against each other
She moved her head to the side letting her get lost in the make out session.
“You don’t want me?” Treasure muttered.
Jimmy pulled away looking deeply into her brown chocolate eyes.
“Of course I want you, been wanting you since I’ve seen you at the club with your girls.” Jimmy said softly.
They kissed some more.
“you scared?”
He chuckled at her bold statement.
“me scared? never that.” She kissed his soft lips more, caressing his salt & pepper beard.
“sure seems like it.” Teasing him made Jimmy clench his jaw tightly.
Circling his large hand around her throat bringing his lips closer to her ear so she could hear him loud and clear.
“keep on with that teasing shit mama, and I’ll take yo’ ass home with me ass bent over on the bed fucking the shit out of you.” That made her freeze in her place listening to his voice changing into a deeper tone made her pussy throb for him.
And he didn’t even know.
“that’s what you wanna do to me?”
“Mm-hmm sure do, you real bold little girl.”
“Maybe because I miss you.” Her eyes went wide open when she said it so casually seeing that sly grin on his face.
Dipping his head down to press a wet kiss on her cheek.
“You miss me?”
She felt a wave of embarrassment as she giggled, covering her face with her hands. How could she possibly miss a man she had only known for three to four days and already feel such a strong attachment to him?
Jimmy gently took her hands away from her face.
“Don’t hide your face now after saying that.” Jimmy teased.
She rolled her eyes at him.
“I’m embarrassed.” Treasure replied.
“Don’t be.”
A hush fell over them, with only the sound of cars passing by one after another as they locked eyes. Treasure absentmindedly twirled his curls, as if her fingers were destined to be there, until she finally shattered the silence.
“Do you think this is wrong?” She asked.
“What baby?” He responded.
“Doing this with you…all of this..”
Jimmy sat up straight in the backseat, while she reclined on her back, enjoying the gentle caress of his hand on her thigh.
“I mean I don’t wanna ruin what you got goin on with yo’ man at home.”
Treasure smacks her teeth at him. “It was already ruined once he stopped showing me affection and attention just out of the blue…I don’t wanna feel like I’m using you or anything….thats not what I want…what I’d yearned for.”
“Then tell me what do you want then?”
She played with her fingers not saying anything, she knew what she wanted in a man and Giovanni was not giving it to her.
She had to look elsewhere.
Biting the bottom of her lips she sighed.
“I just want a man to love me, appreciate me as much as I do for them, you know? Love on me, fuck me. Do whatever to me. I have to beg for things like that whenever I’m with him…”
“I can give you all of that.”
“But I don’t wanna feel like I’m using you jimmy…like you are too precious.”
At that moment, he lifted her onto his lap, securing her with his hands resting on her hips to ensure she remained steady.
“Listen to me ma, you aren’t using me I know how you feel whenever you're around me. You smile, you get all nervous, shy. You get irritated when I tease you for your country accent slipping out. You get turned on when I touch you or kiss you and make you do things you have never done before.” Jimmy said.
He continued on with his thumb caressing her cheek. “Does he cross your mind whenever you with me?”
No he doesn’t
She doesn’t even think about him whenever she with jimmy.
“N-no…” Treasure responded with a soft voice.
“Then no this doesn’t feel wrong, but like I said before we can go at your pace okay? We don’t gotta rush into anything when I’m still tryna get to know you.”
“I am too…”
He held his hand out initiating them to create a handshake.
“I gotchu Treasure, I’m here if you need me.” They both created a cute handshake between them having Treasure smiling from ear to ear as he placed a soft kiss on her lips.
“I’m right here you hear me?” He said.
She nodded her head. “I hear you.”
“A’ight then. Cmon so we can head back in before they start trippin.”
✎ᝰ.
Treasure had finally returned home after Liv dropped her off. As she walked up the steps to her apartment, her mind was filled with the recent moments she shared with Jimmy, causing her to lightly touch her lips with her fingertips.
Checking her phone, she noted it was 6:30 PM, realizing it was time to prepare for dinner at Mama’s Fatu house once more.
Just as she approached her door, ready to unlock it, she spotted Giovanni standing there, the door wide open, arms crossed, and his jaw clenched.
Looking pissed.
“Where the fuck you been at Tres? You haven’t read my messages?” Giovanni questioned her.
She strode past him, unwilling to engage with his nonsense after the messages he sent the previous night while she was at Mama Fatu's house. As she entered their bedroom down the hallway to drop her purse on the bed, she could hear his footsteps approaching from behind her.
“Don’t you hear me talking to you? You must be deaf huh?” He said.
Treasure continued to walk away, ignoring him as she removed her clothes one by one, tossing them into the dirty laundry bin beside the dresser without a second thought about the hickeys on her neck or the mark on her hips.
Giovanni immediately noticed when she pushed her hair aside, prompting him to stride towards her, grabbing her by the arm while she stared at him as if he were insane.
“Where the fuck did these hickies come from? You been fucking another nigga behind my back?”
She could if she wanted to.
“Let go of me Gio, I don’t have time to deal with this tonight.” Treasure said.
He scoffed. “Oh? You don’t have time tonight huh? But you have time to fuck some other nigga and not answer my messages.”
“I wasn’t fucking nobody Gio, you’re being delusional.” She responded, yanking her arm away from him.
Treasure headed inside of the bathroom where he followed her with heavy stomps.
“Tell me who is he?”
“Who’s who Gio?”
“Don’t play fucking stupid with me Tres.”
“I’m not playing. I don't know who you talking about, and can you get out please so I can take a shower.”
As she was about to turn on the shower she felt him yanking her by her hair causing her to yelp looking into Giovanni’s eyes in fear.
“W-what the fuck are you doing?! You’re hurting me Gio!”
“Oh I’m hurting you? When you can come home the next day not answering my text or calls then show up with fucking hickies on your neck like I’m some dummy.”
She would have to come up with a lie somehow.
She tried fighting him off with the strength she had only for him to yank her hair harder than before.
“Ouch Gio! Let Go!” Treasure shouted.
“Not until you tell me who you’ve been fucking.” Giovanni replied.
“Nobody! I’ve got these from Liv! We were just playing truth or dare at her house!”
Treasure sensed his grip starting to slip, giving her the chance to shove him away and land a stinging slap across his face, causing him to stagger back, clutching his cheek.
In retaliation, he struck her back with force, causing her to collapse onto the cold ground, feeling a warm trickle run down from her nose. As she touched her nose, she felt the blood streaming down, triggering a rush of panic in her heart.
She looked up at him, seeing his face filled with regret.
“Tres—“ Treasure threw her hand up at him.
“Get the fuck out now.”
“I didn’t mean—“
“Get out! Now!”
After he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him, she was left there, vulnerable and frightened. Gathering her strength, she rose from the cold floor and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, where she saw blood trickling down her face.
In a state of panic, she quickly reached for some tissue paper, dabbing at the blood on her nose, only to realize that her lip was also swollen and bleeding.
“Fuck…he cannot see me like this…” She whispered to herself.
She successfully tended to her wound before stepping into the shower to cleanse her body.
The sound of the front door slamming shut startled Treasure, causing her to flinch in fear as she entered the warm water that cascaded over her body, letting out a deep sigh.
Maybe Liv was right.
Maybe she should leave him before it gets worse.
But it was already starting.
He had put his hands on her which she didn’t expect him to do knowing him for so long.
This wasn’t the same Giovanni she met back in college.
This wasn’t the same man she lost her virginity to once they got together.
This isn’t the same man that would shower her with gifts, kisses, anything she wanted.
No this was a whole different person that she didn’t know anymore.
She lowered her head, allowing the water to cascade down her back as tears started to stream down her cheeks, her own sobs reverberating through the hallway.
Jimmy must never find out about this. The only person she could confide in was Liv, but the thought of Liv insisting she tell him—or worse, doing it herself—terrifies her.
For now, she must keep up the facade.
Treasure kept sobbing, her lashes becoming wet as she leaned her head against the wall, pouring her heart out in tears.
She sniffed her nose. “I cannot believe he would do that to me without even thinking…”
“Just straight slapped me like I didn’t matter.” Treasure said to herself.
Making her shake her head. “Jimmy cannot know or he’ll be pissed. But he’ll be even more pissed if I don’t tell him.”
She cursed underneath her breath running her fingers through her wet hair.
What am I going to do?
What am I going to do?
What the fuck am I going to do?
That’s all she could think about in the back of her mind.
“I’m going to have to tell Liv…she’s gonna be pissed.”
After enjoying a long shower, she began preparing to go to Mama's house. With her makeup perfectly applied, hair elegantly curled, and a generous spritz of perfume, she felt a surge of confidence.
Glancing at her phone, she realized it was time to leave. She picked up her purse and keys, opening the bedroom door to a still silence.
Noticing he was absent from the couch, she recalled that he had departed earlier following their disagreement in the bathroom. Her heels clicked rhythmically as she made her way to the door.
Turning back, she shook her head in disbelief while locking up, then walked to her car. After unlocking it and sliding into the driver's seat, she shut the door beside her, tossed her purse onto the passenger seat as usual, and inserted her keys into the ignition, turning it on.
She glanced at her reflection to ensure her lips were shining with gloss and her lashes were perfectly in place while she styled her hair. The address was already programmed into her GPS as she began playing 'Constant Bullshit' by Summer Walker, the bass thumping in the car.
She fastened her seatbelt, hearing that reassuring click that confirmed her safety, and checked her surroundings before pulling out of the parking lot.
On her way to the destination.
Treasure was enjoying the music as she drove to Mama Fatu’s house for Sunday dinner. This was her second visit to meet Jimmy’s family, but this time, Liv wasn’t by her side.
She sang along to the lyrics, word for word,
Bar for bar.
It felt all too familiar, reflecting her current situation with Giovanni.
Reflecting on his impulsive decision to strike her, he wished to convince himself it was unintentional, yet she knew better… it seemed as if he was eager to unleash his pent-up frustration on her, just as he had done before.
A lengthy drive across the city led to the Fatu family's gathering spot in the suburbs.
She arrived around 8:30, parking behind several cars already lined up along the street—Jimmy’s customized truck and a few others she didn’t recognize. The sound of music drifted softly from the open windows: a blend of classic R&B, laughter, and the clinking of plates.
Treasure inhaled deeply, adjusted her top, and ascended the steps. Just as she was about to knock, the door swung open.
Jacob appeared, clad in a fresh graphic black tee and black jeans, a golden chain glinting around his neck, his gummy smile lighting up his face.
“Yooo Treasure what’s good! Jimmy said you was coming.” Jacob said.
She moved her hair to the side. “Y-yeah…didn’t want to miss it, is Jimmy here?”
He stepped aside letting her come in.
“Yeah he’s out back right now with the guys, you want me to let him know you’re here?”
Before she could say anything she heard some call out her name gaining her attention as she had seen Jeyce running up towards her.
“Miss Treasure!” Jeyce shouted, making her appearance known.
She hugged him tightly smiling at the little boy.
“Hey, Jeyce. I see that you kept your hair fresh in that durag huh?” Treasure teased.
Jeyce nodded his head showing off his hair that made her giggle.
“Sure did! Well my pops made me because I kept forgetting.”
Treasure smiled at him.
The aroma of the house was divine: tender oxtails simmering, garlic wafting through the air, plantains sizzling in hot oil, and cornbread just baked to perfection. Voices mingled together—Roman was raising his voice at Jey over something happening outside, children were darting about, and the hearty laughter of the uncles filled the space.
Mama Fatu emerged from the kitchen, her apron sprinkled with flour, and her face brightened with a warm smile the moment she saw Treasure.
“Treasure my dearest! I was worried you weren't going to show up!” She pulled Treasure into a hug that smelled like home-cooked everything. “Come, come, you hungry darling?”
Treasure laughed softly, already feeling the warmth seep in. “Starving. Smells great here.”
“Good. Go grab a plate dear.” Mama Fatu smiled at her.
She made her way to the dining room, where a lengthy table was overflowing with food, and chairs were already occupied halfway, with everyone engaged in lively conversation. As the sliding glass door opened, the guys entered, and Roman was the first to notice her, giving Jimmy a gentle nudge.
“There go your’ girl cuz.” He teased.
“She ain’t my girl.”
“Not yet, hey Treasure!”
She smiled at him. “Hey Joe.”
That was the moment she and Jimmy locked eyes, but there was something unsettling about his gaze—his eyes darkened as if he believed she had done something wrong.
This frightened her.
The guys were seated next to one another, while Jimmy sat beside Treasure, remaining silent. Plates were passed around, food heaped high—oxtails tender and falling off the bone, rice and peas, collard greens, and mac and cheese, golden and bubbling.
As grace was recited—hands clasped around the table, heads bowed—she stole a quick glance at him before he sensed her gaze, prompting her to shut her eyes.
Once grace was finished, everyone dug into their meals, chatting over one another, passing dishes around as Treasure took a forkful of mac and cheese, savoring the delightful flavors that danced on her palate.
She hummed in contentment, her eyes fluttering shut.
“This is so good, the best thing I ever had in a while.” Treasure said.
“I’m glad you like it dear. I mean look at my boys.” Mama Fatu replied.
She snickered. “They’re big boys that love their mothers cooking can’t blame them.”
The room was alive with laughter as the kids, having finished their meals, dashed through the back door, leaving the adults behind. Meanwhile, Treasure continued to enjoy her food, tuning in to Jey's chatter with Jimmy and Roman.
As she savored her meal, she felt a hand resting on her thigh, drawing her attention. Looking down, she realized it was Jimmy's hand, his thumb gently stroking her thigh while he listened to his brother's conversation.
This gesture brought her a sense of comfort, yet she remained puzzled about the way he had looked at her earlier.
“Treasure my dearest, I hear you’re from the countryside.” Mama Fatu mentioned, wiping her mouth.
“Yes ma’am, I’m a Houston girl born and raised.” Treasure replied.
“What made you come to Chicago?”
“Wanting to grow my salon business honestly.”
“Jeyce was telling me something about your salon business.”
She chuckled knowing Jeyce probably said something the moment he got his hair done.
“I bet he did, that little boy is something else.” She said.
“Is your family from Houston as well?”
She nodded her head. “Yeah, they’re more country than me I must say but they love it down there.”
Mama Fatu nodded her head smiling. “Hopefully we could travel together one day soon have some mother and daughter bonding.”
Jimmy had coughed on his spit as soon as he heard that looking at his mama like she was crazy.
She rolled her eyes, waving him off.
“Don’t mind his dramatic ass, lemme tell you ever since he was with that one girl. Oh honey I didn’t like her pain in my ass.” Mama Fatu expressed.
“Mama!” Jimmy shouted.
“What? I’m being honest. I didn’t like her.”
What girl?
She glanced at him, seeking answers, but quickly averted her gaze, not wanting to push him into discussing something he was reluctant to share.
It appeared he was upset with her over an issue and preferred to address it privately.
Mama Fatu clapped her hands, gaining their attention.
“That’s another story for another day, but it’s time to clean up the table. Jonathan, Josh, Joe please take out the trash while I clean up the dishes.” She said.
“Time to get slaved, damn!” Jey had rubbed the back of his head looking at his mother pointing her finger at him.
“I didn’t raise you to be lazy.”
“My fault ma, my fault.” As the guys stood up from their seats to dispose of the trash, Treasure observed them. It was then that Jimmy lightly brushed his hand against her shoulder, prompting her to turn and look at him.
“When I get done with this imma need to holla at you for a minute.”
Treasure felt her heart dropping down to her ass.
“Y-yeah…okay.”
As she approached the trashcans where Jey and Roman were, a wave of panic washed over her. She couldn't help but wonder what on earth he wanted to discuss when he returned.
Jimmy looked so pissed off at her and she didn’t know why.
She immediately grabbed her phone out her purse and started texting Liv.
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: Bitch why does jimmy looked pissed off?
Liv🍬: he is?
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: yes! He looks pissed off at me! I didn’t do anything wrong did I?
Liv🍬: well….
It suddenly dawned on her that she had confided in Liv about the incident with Giovanni back home, where he had been physically aggressive towards her. Liv had warned her that if she didn't inform Jimmy about it before going over, she would take matters into her own hands and tell him herself.
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: Olivia don’t tell me that u told him right?
Liv🍬: abusing my government is crazy butttt I did and I told u I was going to do it if you didn’t
Fuck she thought to herself.
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: u couldn’t give me time to tell him?
Liv🍬: you said that u were unsure to tell him knowing that he’ll be pissed which he had every right to be but I know u bestie u wasn’t going to tell him
Im so fucked
I’m so fucked
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: well great now he’s pissed at me and wants to talk to me after he gets done doing what he was doing
Liv🍬: I’m sorryyy bestie but yk I love u and he needed to know I mean yall are technically messing around lately
Treasure didn't refute that, yet it didn't alter the reality that in just a few minutes, she would find her head held down like a misbehaving puppy as soon as that sliding door at the back swings open.
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: I’m so cooked bro now I wanna go home
Liv🍬: aht aht don’t do that, u need to put on your big girl panties and own up to it. If he stays mad then let em be mad okay?
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: sigh okay…I’ll text u for updates
Liv🍬: alrighty girl
She let out a deep sigh, running her fingers through her hair as she inhaled and exhaled through her nose. The sound of the sliding door closing made her flinch, and she could hear three deep voices in the background.
She didn’t dare to look back, fully aware that his gaze would be piercing through her skin, so she feigned interest in her phone for the moment.
As she scrolled through Instagram, resting her hand under her chin, she glanced at everyone’s stories and reels.
In the midst of this, she felt someone clear their throat, drawing her attention. Turning her head, she saw Jimmy’s tall figure looming over her, a beer can in his hand, looking down at her.
“Yes?” Treasure answered.
“C’mere so we can talk.” Jimmy replied, cocking his head towards the back where they can talk in private.
Treasure remained silent, not offering any excuses to dodge the conversation as she tucked her phone into her purse and followed him to the back.
Once outside, Jimmy closed the sliding door and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, while she stood there nervously playing with her fingers.
An awkward silence enveloped them, with only the sounds of music from inside the house and the laughter of children breaking the stillness.
Until Jimmy broke the Silence.
“So when was you gon’ tell me about yo’ boyfriend putting his hands on you Treasure?” Jimmy questioned her.
Shit here we go
Before she could say something he cut her off. “Why did I have to hear it from Liv instead of you? Hm?”
“I-I’m sorry…I was going to tell you…but I didn’t know how…knowing you’ll react like this…” Treasure replied.
“Of course imma act like this when he put his fucking hands on you Treasure.”
“If I would’ve told you then what Jonathan? It would make the situation more complicated than it already is when he believes that I’ve been fucking around.”
He pointed his beer can at her. “Don’t abuse my government name.”
She felt her body shaking as she tried to brush it off.
“I’m sorry, you're right. I should’ve told you…” she apologized.
“One thing about me is that ion like hearing shit from nobody else unless it comes from that person, if we gon be messing around like this and build trust I need you to trust me Treasure.” He explained.
He was right
He needed her to trust him
If this was going to work
Jimmy pushed himself off the wall walking towards her way.
“Lemme see.”
“J-jimmy…”
“Lemme see Treasure, don't play with me.” She followed his command, feeling his hand gently support her chin as he noticed the scar on her split lip, causing his jaw to clench tightly.
Treasure gazed into his eyes, which were brimming with fury, yet he maintained his calm demeanor as he let out a deep sigh.
“Should’ve told me.” Jimmy said softly.
“I-I was scared…” Treasure replied.
“Scared of what? I’m not gonna hurt you Treasure but I will correct you if I have to.”
A tingling sensation coursed through her when he spoke those words.
Perhaps she could find a way to escape this situation.
Treasure embraced him, her arms around his neck, while his hands rested on her hips, their faces mere inches apart.
She pressed her lips softly against his, and he looked down at her, responding to the kiss.
“I’m sorry Jimmy.” Kisses his lips. “I’m really sorry.” Kisses him some more.
Jimmy wasn't no fool; he knew what she was doing and it was not going to work on him either, remembering what she had said about getting her way for certain things.
“You think you slick huh? Quit playing with me Treasure. You not having your way this time.”
“I said I was sorry though.”
“And I hear you but you ain’t having yo’ way.”
Damn I thought that would work.
She released her embrace from around his neck, stepping back and noticing only her lip gloss smudged on his lips, giving them a shiny appearance.
They remained silent about the moment as he opened the sliding door, stepping aside to allow her to enter, the sound of the door closing behind them echoing in the air.
A wave of embarrassment and sadness washed over her, guilt evident on her face as she observed him walk towards the guys, acting as if nothing had occurred.
This left her spiraling into overthinking.
✎ᝰ.
The living room was filled with everyone enjoying the changing music, while Kyomi found herself in the kitchen, savoring a sip of wine that glided smoothly down her throat.
As she swirled her wine glass, she took another sip before setting it down on the kitchen island. She then pulled out her phone and noticed a few messages from Liv.
Three messages from Liv🍬
Liv🍬: just checking in on u sis
Liv🍬: how did the talk go with jimmy?
Liv🍬: he still mad at you?
She typed back.
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: I’m not okay I feel so bad for not saying anything to him I feel like he hates me
Liv🍬: what? Don’t say that he’s just upset that’s all has he said anything else to u?
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: no he’s just been distant from me yk? I can’t even look at him honestly…😟
Liv🍬: omggg ressi it’s okay
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: it’s not I feel my emotions taking over me, I’m trying to keep my composure.
She took another glance at him seeing him smiling and laughing with his brother and cousin which made her heart ache.
Liv🍬: why don’t u take a moment to get it together
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: I’ll do that but I might just call it a night tbh maybe we will talk tmr idk
Liv🍬: you leaving?
Treasure🧘🏼♀️: yeah…I’ll just stay the night at your place I’ll just make an excuse
Treasure set her wine glass down on the counter and grabbed her purse, making her way upstairs toward the bathroom, catching his eye as she did so.
He noticed her expression faltering as she ascended the stairs, sensing that she needed a moment alone before she could hold it together any longer.
The bathroom felt familiar to her, as if she had lived in this house ages ago. She opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind her, sitting down on the toilet with her left leg trembling beneath her.
Anxiety surged within her, making her feel as though she had jeopardized their relationship when all she needed to do was communicate her feelings to him.
She inhaled and exhaled through her nose, attempting to steady herself and prevent tears from ruining her makeup.
Treasure fanned her tears away with her hands, keeping her head held high as she fought against the urge to cry.
“You’re okay Ressi, you’re okay.” Treasure said softly, huffing heavily. “He’s just upset at you that’s all, you guys will talk and make up right?”
Giving her flashbacks of her and Giovanni being like this before and they didn't talk for about a week.
This scared her.
She didn’t want that with Jimmy.
Once she had composed herself, she let out a deep sigh and rose from the toilet, making her way to the mirror to freshen up before leaving.
She tidied her curls and ensured she reapplied some lip gloss, carefully wiping the corners of her mouth.
“Just tell his mama that you have to get up early in the morning to open the salon.” She said to herself before throwing her purse over her shoulder.
As she opened the door, a rush of cool air greeted her skin, immediately following the sound of the bathroom door closing behind her, her heels echoing down the hallway and all the way down the steps.
Upon descending the stairs, she noticed Jimmy was nowhere in sight. She shrugged, assuming he was with either Jey or Jacob, and reached into her purse for her keys as she made her way to the front door.
Just then, she heard someone calling her name and turned to see Jey approaching her.
“Yo! Treasure you leaving?” Jey asked.
“Yeah, got things to do in the morning.” Treasure lied with a slight smile on her lips.
However, she was confident that Jey would trust her, especially given the way he stood with his hands on his hips, looking at her intently.
“That’s not why you leaving huh? You leaving because of my brother right?”
She sighed. “It is…he’s mad at me Joshua and i don’t know what to do but to leave. Give him his space you know? I didn’t expect him to be upset like this.”
“That’s how he is sis honestly that’s like one of his pet peeves.”
She played with her keys. “You don’t think I should leave?”
“Honestly no, I know he cares about you and likes you but you have to let him in—in order for this to work out and you leaving right now would shut him out completely.” He said.
Ouch
That hit her immediately.
“I don’t wanna shut him out…I just don’t—“ The sliding door shut behind them, prompting them to glance back as they noticed him entering the house, likely having just finished smoking a blunt to ease his anxiety.
Their eyes met as he tilted his head, observing her holding her keys at the front door, puzzled about her presence there.
This curiosity compelled him to approach them.
“That’s my cue to leave, so y’all can make up.”
Jey turned and walked away after giving his brother a quick fist bump, heading outside with the other guys, leaving him and her alone once more.
Jimmy's hands rested in his pockets, hovering over her petite frame, which made her feel anxious as she looked up at him.
“Yes?”
“Where you goin?”
“I was heading home.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You leaving me already?”
“I-I…got things to do jimmy…” she said nervously.
“Do you now?” She nodded her head fiddling with her keys until he took them out of her hand out of the blue.
“Jimmyyy give me my keys.”
He shook his head. “Nah, tell me why you leaving actually?”
Shit
“Jimmy cmon I need to go.” Treasure begged.
“Tell me Treasure.” Jimmy demanded with a low tone in his voice.
She smacked her teeth at him, “Fuck…I’m leaving because…you’re mad at me…and I don’t know if can handle you being mad at me all night…so I just made the decision to head home for tonight…”
She continued on. “I know I should’ve told you…I was wrong for not telling you about it but I didn’t want to make the situation worse okay? I’m sorry…”
He could see tears forming in her eyes as she looked away from him trying to keep her composure—she knew she wasn’t getting those keys back.
“Go sit down and wait for me.” He says.
She blinked. “What?”
“Go ahead and sit down, wait for me you staying with me tonight at my place.”
Well that took a turn.
“O-okay…” she replied as she walked past him feeling his hand smacking her on the ass causing her to yelp looking at him.
“Go on mama.” Cocking his head towards the living room.
She followed his command, making her way to the living room to take a seat on the couch, her gaze fixed on him—his unexpected behavior left her feeling perplexed.
Why was she spending the night at his place?
What was he going to do to her when they went there?
Treasure watched him hug his mother
Dabbed up his brother and cousins
Along with hugging his nephew.
Hearing Jeyce say, “you better protect her or I’ll beat you up.”
She couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his mother handing him bowls filled with food, just in case they decided to share a meal together at his home.
“Make sure she eats son okay? And take care of her.” Mama Fatu said.
“You know I got her ma, she’s safe with me.” Jimmy replied with a smile on his face while placing a soft kiss on his mother’s cheek. “Drive safe son.”
He gazed at her, clutching bags of food in his hands, tilting his head toward the door, prompting her to rise instantly, with her purse slung over her shoulders.
As she moved toward the door, Mama Fatu embraced her.
“He’ll take good care of you dear okay?”
She smiled at her. “Okay.”
As they bid farewell and stepped out the door, Jimmy wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her down the stairs toward his truck.
The brisk air greeted them as they exited the house—upon reaching his truck, he opened the door for her, allowing her to enter first before closing it gently and making his way to the driver's side.
He set the bags down on the floor of the backseat behind them before sliding into the driver's seat and shutting his door.
After fastening his seatbelt, he inserted the keys into the ignition, started the engine, and adjusted the air temperature to ensure they were comfortable and warm.
“You ready?” Jimmy asked.
“Y-yeah…” Treasure replied.
He put the truck in reverse gear as he backed out of his mother’s driveway checking his surroundings while Treasure looked outside the window not saying anything.
This was gonna be a long night.
✎ᝰ.
After enjoying a warm shower, Jimmy had offered her some extra clothes that were a bit long but draped over her like a gown, with his shirt accentuating her curves perfectly. Just as she was about to head to bed, she heard him calling her name from his bedroom.
Curious, she peeked her head out to find him lying there shirtless, his tattoos on full display, a Cuban link chain resting around his neck, and his hair still damp.
“Hm?” Treasure answered with a hum.
“C’mere mama.” Jimmy replied, signaling her to come inside the room.
As she entered his bedroom, she noticed the care he had taken in decorating it, just like the rest of the house. She closed the door behind her, hearing it click softly.
Unsure of what to do or what he desired, she hesitated to meet his gaze until she heard the bed creak. Stealing a quick glance, she saw him rising from the bed and approaching her.
When he stood before her, his towering height made her feel diminutive, forcing her to look up at him. His eyes held an emotion she couldn't quite put into words.
“What?” She questioned him. “Did you need anything..? Am in trouble—“
Jimmy gently cradled her face, planting a soft kiss on her lips that momentarily surprised her before he effortlessly lifted her by her thighs as if she were weightless.
He carried her towards his bed, both of them lost in a passionate kiss that was delightfully messy, her fingers entwined in his damp hair.
Treasure felt the cool sheets of his bed against her back as his fingers intertwined with hers.
He lovingly pressed his lips against her chest, then turned her onto her back, Nestled between her legs, he showered her with tender, lingering kisses that traveled from her neck to her chest and down to her stomach, making her squirm beneath him.
“W-wait….i don’t know…if I could jimmy…” She breathed, nails digging into his back.
He looked up at her, eyes dark and focused. “Could what baby?”
She felt embarrassed to say that never had an orgasm before, not even with Giovanni just remembering him saying something was wrong with her.
“I never had an orgasm before jimmy…I think something is wrong with me.”
That’s what she believed.
His facial expression changed.
“Baby there’s nothing wrong with you, he just ain’t do it right lemme take care of you please.”
She felt the urge to argue with him, insisting that she couldn't go through with it, yet she held her lips tightly together and nodded in agreement.
Every touch was intentional and prolonged. He moved with determination, as if he had a message to convey—but he took his time. His goal was to leave her gasping for air, to be the only man who could stir such emotions within her—not Giovanni, just him, and only him.
He knelt beside the bed, pulling her closer as he placed gentle kisses along her thighs, his eyes fixed on hers, completely entrancing her.
Without a moment's pause, his fingers found her clit, moving in slow, sensual circles.
“W-wait—“ Treasure started to reply, but was swiftly hushed by a fervent kiss. He pulled back just a bit, his eyes radiating a commanding intensity. Jimmy's fingers moved away from her clit, slowly pushing two fingers inside her, curling them upward, causing Treasure to gasp sharply. A victorious grin appeared on Jimmy's face as he watched her respond to his caress.
“Relax baby, relax.” He spoke softly.
Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he buried his face between her legs. As he kissed her intimately, she paused, looking down at him with a mix of surprise and desire.
Jimmy started to tease her intimately, his tongue expertly exploring her most sensitive areas, making her squirm with pleasure as her body tightened slightly, encouraging him to lock eyes with her. “Relax, pretty girl, I gotchu baby.”
She yielded to his calming voice, her body relaxing under his spell. Restlessly, she wriggled, attempting to stifle the soft moans that escaped her lips, but Jimmy was determined to draw them out of her.
He teasingly explored her curves, momentarily retreating before plunging back in, eagerly traversing her unexplored regions with his tongue, which craved his touch.
His tongue danced with skillful finesse, smoothly navigating her wetness as he savored the soft sighs escaping her lovely lips, sounds he cherished deeply. “How does this feel, mama? Does it feel good?” He cooed at her.
Her fingers danced through his messy hair as she nodded, at a loss for words, prompting a soft chuckle from him below her.
He was enjoying every second, gently exploring her clit with his mouth, delighting in her escalating pleasure as she instinctively tried to retreat. However, he quickly drew her back, holding her exactly where he desired her. “What I say mama? Relax.”
“I’m s-sorry…” she mewled out.
She experienced a sensation of weightlessness, her thoughts blissfully clouded and still tingling from the effects of the weed. Each time his tongue made contact with her clit, powerful waves of pleasure coursed through her, leaving her breathless. Her eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy as she surrendered to the overwhelming feelings, allowing her body to melt under his skilled touch.
As he delicately slid two fingers into her welcoming warmth, a soft gasp escaped her lips. His fingers curled just right, expertly teasing her g-spot, drawing out moans that filled the room as she tightened around him.
“Taste so good Ressi.” He groaned out in the air.
Hearing him say her nickname only her close friends called her had her feeling some type of way.
“J-Jimmy…F-fuck…” Treasure let out a soft moan as she looked down at him, witnessing him savoring her as if it were his final meal of the day. In reaction to his tongue and fingers exploring her, she began to sway her hips, rolling her eyes back in pure ecstasy.
She began to move her hips in response to his tongue and fingers, her eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy. Treasure felt her climax building stronger with each gentle pull on her clit. When he inserted two fingers, he skillfully curled them, thrusting in a steady rhythm that enveloped her in a blissful daze, reminiscent of gazing at a sky filled with stars.
She pressed her lips together, tilting her neck back against the pillow. “Jimmmyyy.”
He grinned against her skin, his fingers skillfully stimulating her g-spot, causing her to surrender to the surges of ecstasy from his touch. He was awakening her passions, his warm body enveloping her throbbing core.
“I’m right here baby, talk to me. you finna make a mess on me mama?” Jimmy emitted a deep growl, sending ripples of sensation through her body that echoed profoundly within her.
“I-I feel s-something….i feel something…” Her voice was just a soft whisper as he explored further with his fingers, his tongue moving with fervor while she clutched his biceps firmly, her impeccably manicured nails nearly piercing his skin.“You feel what mama? Talk to me.”
The fervent nature of his movements rendered her completely speechless; the pleasure he was delivering pushed Treasure into a frenzied state. In mere moments, she found herself quaking and writhing, craving her climax, her eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy.
“Jimmmyyy, I’m cumming. I’m cumming!” That’s she she had snapped almost as if he broke her into pieces.
The sound of her sharp cry echoed as the waves of pleasure enveloped her, her body shaking while her essence gushed forth like a flood, and she could hear him eagerly savoring it as if it were a life-giving elixir.
“There she go baby, look at you. you did so good mamas.” Her body quivered with anticipation, feeling tears coming down her eyes.
He slowly pulled his fingers away from her, mesmerized by the way her chest rose and fell, her legs shaking with anticipation. Positioned between her thighs, he placed soft kisses on her neck and lips, trying to soothe her, while his fingers glided in gentle circles on her thighs, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear.
“Breathe out mama, I’m right here.” His voice flowed with a deep, luxurious quality, reminiscent of honey softly murmuring in her ear. When his lips grazed her cheeks, a surge of warmth enveloped her, causing a tightness in her throat. Slowly, she permitted herself to relax, yielding to the calming embrace of serenity.
He flipped them over, with her comfortably resting against his chest as he reclined on his back. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat while he softly traced circles on her back—she had never felt so utterly drained at that moment. Her eyelids started to flutter as she fought to keep them open, until he eventually commented on it.
“Get some sleep Ressi” Jimmy reassured her.
“A-are you still m-mad at me?” Treasure replied with a drowsy lilt in her voice.
“No baby I’m not mad at you anymore, get some sleep mama.”
Jimmy softly kissed the top of her head, his hands tenderly drawing circles on her back, offering the comfort and reassurance she longed for, away from any turmoil. In his arms, she discovered her safe haven.
He felt Treasure beginning to stir in her sleep, her gentle snores escaping as he watched her peacefully nestled against his chest. With a satisfied sigh, he shut his eyes, letting himself fall into slumber while holding Treasure close.
sugar talkin ‘
a/n: wellll this was another long oneee. work has been whopping my ass fr fr I don’t be having time to write anything only when I’m off work sooo I hope yall enjoy it 🙂↕️
summary: when jey suffers his first significant injury in over a decade, he makes a decision that’ll impact the rest of his life.
warnings: mentions of injury, mature language, & hefty angst!
A/N: thank you to anon for this request. i hope you like it and uhh……sorry in advance! 🥲💌
you were on the couch, wrapped in the comfiest blanket you could find, finishing up the latest episode of love island, when you got the text from jimmy.
a huge pit took over your stomach, thumbs trembling as you rushed to your contact list and pressed his number.
jey hasn’t been hurt in over ten years.
your mind begins to race with a million thoughts per minute.
how bad is it?
is anything broken?
how long will he be out for?
will he even be able to wrestle again?
everything finally stops when the second ring is cut off.
“sis?” jimmy greets you, his usual cheery and goofy tone replaced with an extremely rare worry.
that alone is enough to scare the shit out of you.
“y-yeah,” you reply, hot tears beginning streaming down your face. “is he okay? what happened?”
“no word on his status yet,” he replies, the receiver echoing as if he’s in an empty hallway. “i wasn’t out there to see much, but the broadcast shows him taking a hard landing on a dive over the ropes. refs helped him backstage after the match.”
your chest tightens. “oh my god, jimmy.”
suddenly, muffled sounds of a door creaking open and words you can’t quite pick up take over.
soon enough, they stop and jimmy lets out a “thanks, doc.”
“what’s happening?” you ask nervously.
“just spoke to medical,” he replies, the sound of the door closing again in the background. “they’re still ruling out the severity but he’s definitely gonna need crutches.”
you allow your head to fall into your hands.
“this can’t be happening,” you mutter quietly, a sniffle escaping you.
you hear jimmy let out a deep breath on the other line. “i should’ve been out there with him.”
“jimmy, please. don’t blame yourself.”
“i was out there the first time, eleven years ago. told myself i’d never let my twin get hurt again. and i fuckin’ failed.”
your heart aches at his words.
jimmy has always been protective of his brother, it’s how he was raised as the older twin.
but to blame himself for something he couldn’t - hell, no one could control? you simply can’t allow it.
“jimmy,” you say again, your voice more stern this time. “you said it yourself. you weren’t out there, you weren’t meant to be. how the hell were you gonna prevent this if the people that were physically by his side couldn’t?”
he responds with a sigh and, suddenly, the muffled voices come back.
you press the phone closer to your ear, hoping to understand even a singular word.
the noise of the door comes again and, soon enough, you hear a muffled but unmistakable voice. jey.
“here,” you hear jimmy say, his voice becoming distant.
rustling noises come through the line before you hear the one voice you’ve been dying to listen to since you got the text.
“baby?” jey greets you, a deep rasp in his tone.
not the kind you love when he’s first woken up in the morning, his curls messy from sleep.
not the kind he serenades you with while he’s fucking you deep into your guys’ mattress.
this time, it’s heartbreak. it’s pain. it’s a nightmare.
“hi baby,” you reply, trying and miserably failing to hide the nervousness in your voice. “are you okay? what happened?”
he groans, probably trying to sit up, before letting out a sigh.
“fucked up my ankle in my match with cody tonight,” he informs you. “went to dive and met the floor instead. doc says i gotta be on crutches and keep it elevated for at least six weeks.”
you curse under your breath, running a hand through your hair.
sure it could be a lot worse, god it absolutely could.
but jey is the biggest workaholic you know.
not scheduled to be on tv? you’ll absolutely catch him in the building anyway.
home for two days before traveling? he’s without a doubt working out in your home gym that he set up in the garage.
big segment or match coming up in his next appearance? he’s most definitely been on the phone with jimmy for over an hour planning and perfecting every second of it.
the truth is, you’re absolutely terrified of the person he’ll be when he’s forced to relax and do absolutely nothing.
“i’m so sorry jey,” you exclaim, your tone laced with empathy.
“it’s alright,” he replies. “could’ve been a lot worse, you know?”
that throws you off.
as much as you love jey, as much as he makes you happy, the man can also be one big ball of negativity.
especially during times like these, he’s a hot head and always thinking the worst.
“i know that. do you?”
the hesitation that comes after pretty much answers your question. he’s miserable and trying to hide it from you.
without pushing too hard, you continue. “jey, baby, i’m here. talk to me. what’s on your mind?”
“i just…” his voice trails off, before you hear a quiet sniffle come through the line.
you swear you can feel your heart shatter.
jey has always been an emotional guy, never failing to wear his heart on his sleeve. that’s one of the many reasons you fell for him.
but him crying in such a vulnerable state like this? knowing he was trying so hard not to upset you just moments ago? it tears you to shreds.
“this shit….i-it just fuckin’ sucks man,” he begins again, managing to get the words out through hitched breaths. “just when i’m finally gettin’ back t-together with my family. just when we was about to g-get goin’ again. i gotta fuck up and do this shit to myself.”
you usually know how to comfort him, knowing exactly what he wants and needs to hear.
but right now? you’re too broken. too broken for him to speak.
“maybe it’s a sign,” he says, full blown crying now. “i thought i was strong enough to go another f-few years but….but maybe it’s time to hang it up.”
your own breath hitches this time, chest tightening at his words. “jey, what are you saying?”
he sniffles again. “i’m sayin’ i’m done. i-i’m retiring from professional wrestling.”
the world around you comes to a screeching halt.
professional wrestling isn’t just his profession.
it’s his life. his passion. it’s all he’s ever known.
after an entire childhood of watching and sixteen whole years of fighting, you can’t let him throw it all away.
not yet. not like this.
“jey…” you begin to respond, but he keeps going.
“i’ll be home soon. i love you, baby.”
“jey, please!” you manage to get out before the line goes dead.
“shh,” he shushes you by placing his fingers in your mouth while using the other hand to push inside of you.
he’d done a little convincing to get you on board w this. you were always begging him to practice safe sex, and after a while it started to bore him. he needed to feel you — not w some stupid latex getting in the way. little by little, he’d sprinkle in small phrases to ease your nerves, almost like he was soft launching his raging breeding kink.
“you do love me, right?” he would coo, his eyes darting between your rising chest and the innocent glimmer in your eyes. “you’d do anything to make me happy, wouldn’t u love? y’know you’d make daddy the happiest man alive if he could just make you a mommy. you’d be so beautiful,” he’d continue, pressing his hand against your stomach.
but his personal favorite? “don’t even have to work hard for it, angel. just hold still and take it, it’ll be worth it. i promise…”
he cups your chin, coaxing you to speak, but all that comes out are broken little whines. each slow, deep stroke leaves your eyes rolling back, your sweet body struggling to keep up with the way he moves inside of you.
he wanted you right there with him, feeling every inch instead of getting lost in it. he watched the uncertainty in your pretty eyes slowly turn into arousal as his pelvic bone graze against your clit, his hips rolling forward with steady, deliberate pressure. “hmm… wait, it feels so good. it’s…” you pant, your words breaking apart every time he bottoms out. he looks into your eyes, his pace never faltering as he shoved his fingers in and out of your mouth, muffling your pleas.
his gaze never leaves yours. it’s almost unnerving how calm he looks, especially when he’s literally fucking you stupid.
his praises were so effortless it almost sounded genuine as he used his fingers that were in your mouth to stimulate your clit. “mhmmm, i know baby,” he breathed, almost like he was answering both of you. “you’re doing so good.”
your hand lifts on instinct, fingertips weakly wrapping around his arm, you don’t even have the strength to push.
“move your hand baby…..you're okay.”
you let it fall back beside your head with a quiet whimper, your fingers curling into the sheets instead.
“you’re such a good girl.” he watches your face for the smallest reaction. “you like when i call you that?”
“mhm,” you answered quietly, your chest rose unevenly.
“do you believe that you’re a good girl?”
you nodded.
“then tell me.” he drawled, each word punctuated by the slow roll of his hips, never letting your attention drift.
“oh my gosh…” your voice caught on a shaky breath before you moaned out, “i’m a good girl, roman…” your legs lifted almost instinctively, crossing behind his back.
truthfully, you’ve never really fantasized abt this, abt him doing this to your body, but there’s something about having him inside you. you don’t think it’ll be too bad if he decided to breed you.
“what’s in that pretty head, angel?” he asks condescendingly, studying your face. “thinking of carrying my baby?”
you part your lips to answer, but he grabs your jaw in a firm grip, lips pressed together before a thin string of saliva falls onto your tongue. the sight alone has him cursing under his breath.
“mommy,” roman chuckles though the word leaving him breathless. “such a nice ring to it, huh?”
a whiny sound slips from your throat, “ro…” his hands steady your waist, keeping you perfectly still while he fucks you. every touch leaves your body feeling less like your own, your legs trembling hard enough that they’re slowly losing their grip.
“you said you wanted this," he growled lowly, “you told me you were a good girl… that you’d do anything to make me happy.”
you let out another helpless whine in protest, “please, i’m going-” you started as that familiar warmth begins to build low in your stomach.
“not yet, baby,” his fingertips colliding harshly with your clit, “daddy’s still fucking a baby in you.”
the intensity was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. you were used to the slow kisses, whispered reassurances, the carefulness that always came with a condom. but now, there’s that yearning to be bred.
so when the moment finally comes, there isn’t a single word that could describe the rush that crashes over you. it hits all at once, leaving your body trembling as you cling to him. your eyes squeeze shut as warmth floods through you, the feeling so overwhelming as you gasp, “i feel it!”
“that’s so good, baby,” he smirked, pulling out and inspecting your hole for himself. he took his time, admiring the sight before he absentmindedly pressed his fingers inside of you. a quiet hum left him at the soft, wet squelch… you caught yourself watching him as he watched his fingers fuck his cum back inside of you.
pairing — the usos x fem!reader
word count — 18.6k
summary — after finally crossing that last line between them, things between jimmy and jey quickly fall apart. can the three of you find your way back to each other before its too late?
warnings (please read) — dom!jimmy, switch!reader, sub!jey, lots of angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of blowjobs, humiliation/degradation, threesome, marking, slight daddy kink, praise, insecurity, unprotected sex, begging, bad communication, usocest, aftercare
previous — part seven
next — part nine (coming soon)
note — I know this part is super long. I've never written a fic anywhere near this long before. like I've said before, if this isn't what you're into please just keep scrolling and don't leave hate in my inbox
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Jey had been down on his knees for a while now.
Long enough that the carpet had started to burn in thin, hot lines through the fabric of his joggers, the fibers digging into his skin every time he shifted. Long enough that the dull ache in his thighs had become something he barely noticed anymore.
Usually that feeling grounded him. Usually it made him feel calm, settled, like his body finally understood what it was for.
But tonight it was just noise. Everything was noise except for the slow, steady drag of your fingers through his hair and the solid, unmoving press of Jimmy’s thigh against his cheek.
He kept his face tucked in close, nose brushing the inside seam of Jimmy’s sweats. The fabric was warm from his brother’s body heat, stretched tight over his thick muscle. Every small shift Jimmy made– even just adjusting how he sat on the couch– sent a subtle flex against Jey’s cheek.
It wasn’t a hand. There was no palm resting on his head. No fingers threaded through his curls. No grip at the nape of his neck like there usually was when he was like this. There was just the passive, heavy presence of Jimmy’s leg and the quiet understanding that his twin wasn’t reaching for him.
That part sat wrong in Jey’s chest.
But he pressed his cheek harder into Jimmy’s thigh anyway, like he could pull more contact out of it if he tried hard enough. The warmth seeped into his skin. Underneath the clean smell of detergent, he could catch faint traces of Jimmy himself. That familiar, lived-in scent that had always meant safety and control and home.
Jey’s nose brushed the fabric again and he had to fight not to turn his head and just bury his face there. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. Wanted to nuzzle in deep until he couldn’t smell anything else. Wanted to open his mouth and press it against the fabric and just breathe him in until the noise in his head finally shut the fuck up.
But he didn’t.
He stayed right where he was. Cheek mashed obediently to Jimmy’s thigh, eyes half-lidded, while your fingers kept moving slow and gentle through his hair.
Your touch was soft. Sweet. The kind of petting that would typically make his shoulders drop and his mind go quiet. And it felt good. It did. The slow drag of your nails over his scalp sent little shivers down the back of his neck. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the louder, more uncomfortable feeling sitting in his chest.
He’s not even really touchin’ me.
Not even a little.
The thought sat heavy behind his ribs. Every other time he had been down like this, Jimmy’s hands were on him. Pulling his hair, hands around his neck, keeping him exactly where he wanted him.
That was how it had been. How it always was. Jimmy took. Jimmy claimed. Jimmy didn’t hesitate.
But ever since last night, something had shifted. Jimmy had been careful in the bath. Careful with his hands, with his words. It was like he was scared of pushing too far. Like he was keeping space between them on purpose.
Jey hated it.
He didn’t want careful. He wanted his twin. The real one. The one who didn’t second guess himself when it came to Jey. The one who pushed and took and reminded him that he belonged here. That he wasn’t temporary. That he didn’t have to keep running from what he wanted.
But right now Jimmy was holding back, and it was making Jey’s skin feel too tight. His body ached in a way that had nothing to do with how long he’d been kneeling. He wanted Jimmy to stop worrying. Wanted him to stop treating him like he might break. He wanted things to feel normal again. Or at least the kind of normal they had been building toward.
I just wanna be good.
That was the clearest thing in his head tonight. He wanted to make Jimmy happy. He didn’t want to be the reason his brother looked so tense.
His fingers curled against his own thighs and he closed his eyes for a second. He let out a quiet, shaky breath and nuzzled in a bit deeper, trying to soak up whatever warmth he could get.
Just touch me.
The words looped quiet and desperate in the back of his mind.
But he didn’t say it out loud. He never did.
A few minutes passed. The movie kept playing, loud and forgettable. Jey could feel the tension in his own shoulders. Felt the way his fingers kept flexing against his thighs like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He wanted to reach up and hold onto something. Wanted to wrap his arms around Jimmy’s leg and just stay there. But he stayed still. Obedient. Good.
Then Jimmy moved.
It was casual, just a stretch. He lifted both arms and draped them along the back of the couch, one settling behind you. The shift made his thigh flex under Jey’s cheek, and for a second Jey’s heart dropped. Maybe Jimmy’s hand would drop down onto him.
It didn’t.
Jimmy’s arm stayed behind you, resting along the back of the couch like it belonged there. His other arm stretched out in the opposite direction. He didn’t touch Jey at all.
He felt the disappointment settle low in his stomach before he could stop it.
You leaned into Jimmy a little more, settling against his side. At the same time, your hand slipped from Jey’s hair and slid down to cup the side of his face instead. Your palm was warm against his cheek, thumb brushing slow, gentle strokes through his beard.
It felt good, in a way. Your touch was soft and steady, but it made the absence of Jimmy’s hands even more obvious. Now he could feel the contrast even more clearly– one side of him being petted, the other side pressed against Jimmy but not held by him.
Jey’s eyes stayed half-lidded. He didn’t move. Didn’t lean into your hand or pull away from Jimmy’s thigh. He just stayed there, caught between the two of you, while the movie kept playing.
He still ain’t gonna touch me.
The thought sat heavy and unwelcome. Jey swallowed, his throat working against nothing. He could feel the warmth of Jimmy’s leg against his cheek, could smell him there, but it wasn’t enough. Not when he knew what it felt like when Jimmy actually touched him. Not when he could still remember the weight of his brother’s hands on him from last night.
He could still feel it. The thick, heavy stretch of Jimmy’s cock in his throat. How it had forced his jaw wide and made his eyes water. He could hear the wet, filthy sounds his own throat had made every time Jimmy pushed in deep. How he’d gagged around it, spit and cum spilling down his chin while you rode him at the same time.
Your voice had been right there in his ear the whole time, soft and coaxing.
You want it, don’t you?
Show Daddy how bad you want it.
He had wanted it. He’d wanted it so bad it made his stomach twist just remembering. And when Jimmy finally came, thick and hot and endless down his throat, Jey had swallowed like he was starving for it. He could still remember the taste. Bitter and salty and unmistakably Jimmy.
He could still feel how warm it had been sliding down his throat, how it had coated his tongue and the back of his mouth. He could still see the way Jimmy had looked down at him when he came– eyes dark, jaw tight. Like he was finally giving in to something he’d been holding back from for too long.
Jey’s chest ached.
He thought he was making Jimmy happy. Thought he was giving his brother something he wanted. Thought that for once, he wasn’t the one being difficult or too much or too needy. He’d been good. He’d taken it. He’d swallowed every drop and let Jimmy use his throat until he was shaking.
So why’s he act like he regrets it?
Jey could feel the hesitation coming off him. The way he kept his hands to himself. The way he hadn’t touched Jey once since they sat down. How he’d been so careful last night, washing his hair like he was something delicate, and not the same person he’d just fucked raw a few minutes earlier.
It don’t make sense.
Jey’s throat worked as he swallowed, his cheek still pressed to Jimmy’s thigh. Somehow his scent grew stronger. Right now, it was just making the confusion worse.
Had he done something wrong? Had he not been good enough? Had Jimmy seen how much Jey wanted it and decided it was too much? That Jey was too much?
The thought made his stomach turn.
Your thumb stroked along his beard again, and Jey leaned into your touch without thinking. His eyes stayed heavy, staring at nothing while his mind kept spinning,
Did I fuck it up? Did I make it weird? He really don’t want me like that no more?
He was trying to stay still, trying to be good, but his body was starting to betray him. He could feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck, the way his stomach kept flipping every time he thought about how close Jimmy was and how he still wasn’t reaching for him.
Jey’s brows pulled together as he stared up at his brother’s face. Jimmy wasn’t even looking at him. His eyes were on the TV like the movie actually mattered. Like Jey wasn’t right there on his knees between his legs, practically begging without even saying a word.
Jey’s chest ached harder.
Jey shifted again, this time more obviously. He moved so more of his weight was leaning into Jimmy’s leg, nuzzling in deeper. A small, broken sound slipped out of him before he could stop it. It wasn’t quite a whimper, but close.
His hand twitched, wanting to reach up and grab onto something, but he didn’t. He just stayed there, eyes locked on to his twin’s face like he could will him to look at him.
Jimmy’s gaze finally flicked down.
For a second, their eyes met. Jey’s stomach flipped hard. He made another small noise, softer this time. It was almost hopeful. His brows drew in tighter, pleading without words.
Please.
Jimmy stared at him for a moment. His brows furrowed slightly, like he was trying to figure something out. Then his eyes slid away from Jey’s face and over to you instead.
“I think he’s gettin’ a little needy,” Jimmy said. “Why don’t you hold him for a bit?”
Jey’s stomach dropped so fast it made him feel sick.
The words hit him like a slap in the face. He didn’t move at first but something in his expression cracked wide open– brows pulling in hard, lips pressing together, trying to keep something from spilling out. His eyes stayed on Jimmy’s face for another second, glassy and hurt, before finally looking away.
He don’t want me.
The thought landed heavy and ugly in his chest. Jey’s fingers curled tighter into the fabric of his own sweats, knuckles going white as he clutched the material. His chest felt too tight. His throat burned. He tried to swallow it down, tried to stay quiet like he was supposed to, but a small, shaky sniffle slipped out before he could stop it.
Jey hated how pathetic it sounded.
His face scrunched harder as he pressed his face deeper into Jimmy’s thigh, trying to hide the way his eyes were starting to sting. Another quiet sniffle escaped him, this one wetter than the last.
He hated that too. Hated how easily his body betrayed him when he was like this. Hated that he couldn’t just keep it together. How it always seemed to be easier for everyone else.
I can’t do nothin’ right. He just gon’ pass me around. Can’t even be good enough for him.
Jey’s grip on his sweats tightened until his hands were shaking. His shoulders curled in on themselves as another shaky breath left him, this one catching halfway through.
He didn’t want to cry. Not here. Not like this. But the longer Jimmy stayed quiet and distant, the harder it was to keep everything locked down.
He sniffled again, softer this time, and nuzzled again against Jimmy’s leg like he could disappear into it. His fingers stayed clenched tight in his own clothes, holding on for dear life while your hand continued to stroke gently through his beard.
Jey felt you shift beside him, your hand sliding up from his beard into his hair again. Your fingers moved slow and gentle through the curls at the nape of his neck, scratching lightly at his scalp in that way that usually helped him calm down.
But even that wasn’t enough right now.
Not when Jimmy still wasn’t touching him. Not when his brother had just looked at him and decided someone else should handle him instead.
“Hey, pretty boy,” your voice was soft, warm. The way it always got when you were trying to soothe him. “Come here, baby.”
Jey didn’t move at first. His body felt heavy. It took too much effort to even lift his head. But when your hand gave his hair a gentle tug, he let himself be guided. He shifted on his knees, clumsy and slow, and crawled the short distance into your lap.
It was awkward.
He was too big for this. Too broad. But he didn’t care. He curled into you anyway, one arm sliding around your waist as he tucked his face against your stomach.
He looked up at you with glassy eyes, lashes clumped together from the tears he was trying so hard not to let fall. His bottom lip trembled just slightly before he caught it between his teeth. He looked so fucking pitiful and he knew it. But he couldn’t help it. Everything felt too big in his chest right now.
Your hand came up to cup his face again, thumb brushing under his eye to catch a stray tear before it could fall. Then your fingers moved to scratch gently under his beard and Jey’s eyes fluttered. A small, broken sound slipped out of him as he leaned into the touch, chasing it like he needed it to breathe.
“There you go,” you murmured, voice low and sweet. Your nails dragged lightly along his jaw, scratching in slow, soothing circles. “That’s my good boy. You’re okay.”
Jey’s throat tightened.
Am I?
“You’re okay,” you said again, softer this time. Your fingers kept moving, gentle and patient. “We’ll always take care of you.”
We.
The word landed wrong in his chest. It was supposed to be comforting– and he knew that. You meant it to be kind. But all Jey could hear was the way it included Jimmy.
We’ll always take care of you.
Like Jimmy was still in this with him. Like his twin wasn’t sitting right there, keeping deliberate distance as if Jey was something to be ashamed of.
Jey’s eyes burned hotter. His fingers curled tighter into your shirt as another shaky breath left him. He wanted to believe you. He wanted to believe that nothing had changed. But it had changed. Jimmy was different now. And it was making Jey feel like he’d done something wrong just by wanting what they’d done last night.
You leaned forward then, and Jey watched, helpless, as you pressed a soft kiss to Jimmy’s mouth. It was quick. Casual. Familiar. But it hit him like a punch anyway.
His stomach twisted hard.
Kiss me.
The thought came out of nowhere, raw and desperate. He wanted Jimmy to kiss him. Wanted his brother to lean down and press his mouth to his. Press it to his forehead or his temple or anywhere, just to prove that things were still okay. That he was still okay. That Jimmy still wanted him the way he used to.
But Jimmy didn’t move.
You pulled back from the kiss and looked down at Jey again. Your eyes were soft, warm, full of that sweetness that made him feel safe. You cupped his face with both hands now, thumbs stroking gently over his cheeks as you leaned in close.
“Nobody’s forgetting about you,” you whispered, voice quiet but certain. “You hear me?”
Jey’s breath caught.
But somebody is.
His eyes filled before he could stop them, vision blurring as fresh tears spilled over and slid down his cheeks. He tried to blink them away, tried to swallow the sob building in his throat, but it was too late. The words had already cracked something open inside him.
Jimmy already forgot ‘bout me.
He didn’t say it out loud. He couldn’t. But the thought sat there, loud and impossible to ignore. Jimmy was forgetting about him– or at least pulling away like he wanted to forget about Jey. And no matter how many times you said otherwise, Jey could feel it. He could feel the distance. The hesitation.
But you didn’t pull away from Jey. Instead, you leaned in even closer and pressed your lips to his. It wasn’t rushed. It was soft, slow, and lingering. The kind of kiss meant to comfort. Your mouth moved gently against his, warm and steady, trying to pour reassurance into him.
One of your hands stayed on his face while the other slid into his hair, holding him there. Jey’s eyes squeezed shut as another shaky breath left him. His chest was still aching. His mind was still spinning. And even with your mouth on his, all he could think about was how badly he wanted it to be Jimmy instead.
When you finally pulled back, your thumb brushed over his bottom lip, then wiped away a stray tear that had slipped down his cheek.
“I promise,” you whispered.
Jey didn’t answer.
He just stayed there, curled in your lap with his face pressed against your stomach now, while the movie kept playing and Jimmy’s arm stayed stretched along the back of the couch like he had no intention of reaching for him.
His fingers stayed clenched tight in your shirt. Another quiet sniffle slipped out of him, this one wetter than the last. Jey hated how easily he was falling apart. Hated that he couldn’t stop his thoughts from spinning.
The movie dragged on for another twenty minutes or so, but Jey hadn’t watched any of it. He stayed curled in your lap the whole time, face tucked against your stomach. Your fingers never stopped moving– slow strokes through his hair, gentle scratches along his scalp, the occasional soft brush of your thumb over his cheek.
By the time the credits started rolling, Jey still felt just as heavy as he had an hour ago. Maybe worse. His eyes were sore from holding back tears, and every time he thought about the way Jimmy had looked at him and then looked away, something in his stomach twisted all over again.
Then Jimmy moved.
It wasn’t much. Just a small shift, a low sound in the back of his throat like he was stretching out some stiffness. Jey’s head lifted slightly at the noise, eyes finding his brother without thinking. His chest tightened when Jimmy’s gaze finally dropped down to meet his for a second.
Jimmy didn’t say anything to him. Instead, he looked over at you, voice low and rough from sitting in silence for so long.
“You ready for bed?” he asked, eyes flicking between you and the TV. “Wanna go lay down?”
Jey’s stomach flipped hard.
Bed.
For a second, stupid, desperate hope flickered in his chest. Maybe this was it. Maybe Jimmy would actually reach for him now. Maybe they’d go lay down and Jimmy would pull him in close. Hand in his hair, body pressed against his. Maybe tonight could be different.
The thought made something in Jey’s chest loosen for the first time all night. But then reality hit him just as fast.
That ain’t what happens.
Jey’s fingers tightened in your shirt as the thought sank in. He didn’t sleep in the bed with the two of you. Not usually. He slept on the floor. On your side. In the dog beg you kept for him when he was deep in this headspace. That was the routine. That was what Jimmy expected. That was what he was supposed to do.
The hope that had flared up so quickly died just as fast, leaving something cold and heavy in its place.
You know it ain’t gonna be like that.
Jimmy didn’t want him. He wasn’t even looking at him anymore. He was talking to you. Making plans with you. And Jey was just… there. Waiting to be told where he was supposed to go. His throat burned as he dropped his gaze again, pressing his face back into your stomach like he could hide from the way his chest was starting to ache all over again.
So fucking stupid.
He could feel you shift slightly under him, your hand still moving through his hair. For a second, he let himself hope again. That same stupid, quiet hope that maybe you’d say something that would change things. Maybe you’d tell Jimmy that Jey should come to bed with you both. Hoped that maybe Jimmy would actually hold him this time.
“Yeah,” you said softly, voice warm and tired. “I’m ready.”
That was it. Just those three words. Jey didn’t move, but something in him curled tighter, like he was trying to make himself smaller. His grip on your shirt loosened just slightly as the realizations settled in.
Of course.
Of course you were ready for bed. Of course Jimmy was ready too. And of course Jey was going to end up exactly where he always did– on the floor. He didn’t even have it in him to be surprised anymore. He was just disappointed. And sad. And so fucking tired of feeling like he was on the outside of something he used to be a part of.
You gave his hair one last slow stroke before your hand slid down to cup the side of his face again, gently tilting his head up so he was looking at you.
“Pretty boy,” you murmured. “C’mon. Let’s get up.”
Jey didn’t answer. He just nodded once, small and quiet, and slowly pushed himself up off you. His legs felt still and heavy as he stood, and he kept one hand loosely fisted in the hem of your shirt. He wasn’t ready to let go completely. He didn’t look at Jimmy. He couldn’t. Not right now.
The three of you made your way down the hall in silence. Jimmy walked ahead, quiet and steady, while you stayed beside Jey with your arm around his waist. Jey kept his eyes on the floor the whole way there, his chest tight and his thoughts loud and messy.
By the time you reached the bedroom, Jey’s stomach was in knots all over again. He stood there in the doorway for a second, still holding onto your shirt, while Jimmy moved further into the room without a word.
His eyes stayed on the floor. The bedroom felt too quiet. Too still. He could hear Jimmy moving around on the other side of the room– the soft rustle of clothes, the low creak of the mattress as he sat down on the edge of the bed. But his brother still hadn’t looked at him again.
You turned toward him, one hand sliding up to cup the side of his face again. Your voice was soft when you spoke.
“You wanna get in your bed tonight?” you asked gently. “Or you wanna sleep with us?”
Jey felt that ache behind his ribs again. Jey didn’t want to be on the floor tonight. He didn’t want to be set aside. He shook his head once, not trusting his voice enough to speak.
Your expression softened even more. You didn’t push. You just nodded like you understood and reached for Jey’s hand instead, gently pulling him toward the bed. He followed without resistance, letting you guide him. His movements were slow, almost hesitant, like part of him still wasn’t sure he was actually allowed to be there. But when you climbed onto the mattress and tugged him with you, he went.
Jimmy was already settled on his side of the bed, back against the headboard, one arm resting behind his head. He didn’t say anything as you and Jey got in. He just watched for a second, then shifted to make room.
You ended up in the middle. Jey let you pull him in close until his back was pressed against your front, your arm draped over his waist. Behind you, Jimmy settled in, his body curving around yours. It was rare that Jey got to sleep in the bed with you two. It should’ve felt good. Warm. Safe. The three of you tucked together like this.
But it didn’t. Not really.
Jey could feel the heat of Jimmy’s body behind you, but that was it. There was no hand reaching over to touch him. No palm resting on his hip. There was just space. Just that same distance Jimmy had been keeping all day.
Jey stared at the wall in front of him, eyes glassy and tired. His chest felt tight again. He wanted to shift back. Wanted to press closer to you until he could feel Jimmy’s arm against his side too. But he didn’t. He stayed exactly where you put him, quiet and still, while the ache in his chest spread a little wider.
I just want him.
Jey’s fingers curled into the sheets in front of him. He blinked hard, trying to push back the fresh sting behind his eyes. He could feel your warm breath against the back of his neck. Could feel the solid weight of your arm around him. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the louder, more painful thought looping in his head.
Jimmy don’t want me no more. And it’s all my fault.
Jey stayed quiet. He didn’t say a word. He just laid there in the dark, pressed against you, and tried not to let the tears slip out.
Jimmy woke up first, like he usually did.
The room was still dim, the early morning light barely starting to creep in around the edges of the curtains. He was on his side, one arm draped over your waist. In front of you, Jey was curled up close.
For a few minutes, Jimmy didn’t move. He laid there, eyes half-open, staring at the back of Jey’s head. Staring at the way his curls were messy from sleep. At the slow, steady rise and fall of his shoulders. At the faint marks still visible on the side of his neck from a few nights ago– some from you, some from him.
His chest ached.
Fuck.
He’d been trying not to think about it too much yesterday. Tried to keep his distance. Tried to give Jey space. But now, in the quiet of the morning, with Jey sleeping so close and looking so soft, it was harder to push it all down.
Jimmy exhaled slowly through his nose and carefully untangled himself from you. You stirred a little but didn’t wake. Jey didn’t move at all, still dead asleep with your arm around him.
He slipped out of the bed as quietly as he could and headed for the bathroom.
Jimmy closed the door behind him. The room was still dark, so he flicked on the light above the sink. It was too bright at first. He squinted, rubbed a hand over his face, and turned the shower on as hot as it would go.
Steam started filling the space almost immediately. He stripped and stepped under the spray, letting the hot water hit the back of his neck and shoulders first. It stung a little in the best way. Sharp enough to pull him out of his head for a second.
He braced both hands against the tiled and dropped his head, letting the water run down his back and over his ass.
For a while, he just stood there.
The heat felt good. Too good, maybe. It loosened some of the tension in his muscles, but it did nothing for the knot sitting heavy in his chest. He reached for the body wash, squeezed some into his palm, and started scrubbing down his arms, his chest, his stomach.
The soap smelled clean and familiar. Nothing special. But as his hands moved over his own skin, his mind betrayed him anyway.
He remembered the bath.
Remembered how careful he’d been when he washed Jey. How he’d poured warm water over his shoulders and watched it run over him. How Jey had leaned into his touch like he was starving for it. How soft Jey had looked sitting between your legs in the tub, back resting against your chest. Jey had been quiet then. Floaty. Eyes half closed while Jimmy’s fingers worked shampoo into his hair.
Jimmy’s hands slowed now as he washed his own chest.
He could still see it so clearly. The way Jey’s head had tipped back against your shoulder when Jimmy massaged his scalp. The way he’d make that soft, content little sound in the back of his throat. The way you smiled at him like you were exactly where you wanted to be.
Jimmy’s jaw tightened.
He moved his hands lower, washing the rest of his body with rough, efficient strokes. But even that didn’t help. Because now he was thinking about Jey on his knees again. About the way he’d looked with his mouth stretched around Jimmy’s cock, eyes glassy and wet, looking up at him like Jimmy hung the fucking moon. About the way he’d swallowed every drop like he was grateful for it. About how pretty he’d sounded when he moaned around him.
Jimmy exhaled hard through his nose and tilted his head back under the water, letting it run over his face.
What the fuck am I doin’?
He’d wanted last night. He still wanted it. But the second it was over, fear had crept in fast and ugly. What if Jey hadn’t actually wanted it as much as he thought? What if Jey had only gone along with it because he didn’t know how to say no? What if Jimmy had pushed him too far and now Jey was too scared to tell him the truth?
The thought made him feel sick.
Jimmy reached for the shampoo and worked it into his hair, fingers scrubbing roughly at his scalp. The motion was automatic, but it still made Jimmy think of him– his hands in Jey’s hair, being so fucking gentle with him. Gentler than he’d ever been before. All because Jimmy had been scared. Because he’d been worried he’d already broken something.
Jimmy rinsed the shampoo out and stood there a minute longer. Water streamed down his back while his thoughts kept circling the same painful loop.
I already fucked up.
He didn’t want to lose Jey’s trust. Didn’t want to be the reason Jey felt trapped. Didn’t want to be the reason he started pulling away or shutting down. Jey had been through enough shit in his own life. He deserved to feel safe. He deserved to feel like he could say no without worrying about losing the people he cared about.
But Jimmy also didn’t know how to fix it without making everything worse.
Jimmy shut the water off and stood there dripping for a second, staring at the tile. Then he grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and stepped out of the shower. At least he had made up his mind about one thing.
I guess the best thing to do is just give him some space. He don’t need me hoverin’ over him all the time.
No more touching him unless Jey asked. No more pushing. No more assuming Jey wanted the same things Jimmy did. If Jey wanted distance, Jimmy would give it to him. If Jey needed time to figure out how he felt about what happened, Jimmy would wait.
He just hoped he hadn’t already done something he couldn’t come back from.
Jimmy dried off and pulled on a pair of sweats before heading into the kitchen. If nothing else, he could do this much. He could take care of Jey in a way he knew how. Make him breakfast. Make all the shit Jey liked. Waffles. Hash browns. Eggs. The works. Maybe it wouldn’t fix anything, but at least it was something he could do without feeling guilty about it.
He moved around the kitchen quietly, pulling out ingredients and starting the coffee. Every now and then his mind would drift back to Jey. To the way he looked with his mouth stuffed with Jimmy’s cock. How Jey looked staring up at him from between Jimmy’s legs. How lately his eyes stayed glassy and wet and so fucking devoted that it made Jimmy’s chest ache.
Jimmy pushed the thoughts away.
Not right now. Jey’s still got her. She don’t mess things up.
Right now, he just needed to focus on making sure that Jey was okay. On giving him whatever space he needed. On not making things worse than he already had.
Jimmy cracked a few eggs into a bowl and started whisking, jaw tight. He’d figure the rest out later.
The kitchen was fairly quiet still except for the low sizzle of the waffle iron and the occasional pop from the hash browns in the pan. Jimmy was moving on autopilot. Flipping, seasoning, and plating things the way he knew Jey liked them. He didn’t even realize how carefully he was doing it until he caught himself adjusting the plate twice so everything looked neat.
He was so focused on the food that he almost didn’t hear you and Jey coming down the hall.
The first thing he noticed was your voice, soft and sleepy, saying something he couldn’t quite make out. Then Jey’s low, mumbled reply. A second later, the two of you stepped into the kitchen.
You were wearing one of Jimmy’s old shirts. You stretched your arms over your head with a quiet sigh as you walked in. Jey was right behind you, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts slung low on his hips. His curls were sticking up in every direction, and his eyes were still heavy with sleep.
But it was the look on his face that made Jimmy’s stomach drop.
Jey looked sad.
Not the soft, floaty kind of sad he got sometimes when he was deep in his head. This was heavier. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his mouth set in a tight line, and there was a tension in his jaw that Jimmy recognized immediately.
Jey wouldn’t even look at him. His eyes stayed on the floor or on you, like making eye contact with Jimmy was something he was trying to avoid. Every time he shifted his weight, it looked like he was fighting the urge to turn around and walk right back out of the kitchen.
He don’t even wanna be around me.
Jimmy forced himself to look away and focus on the plates in front of him. He could feel you watching him, but he didn’t look up. You stretched again, arms high over your head and then padded over to him. Your arms slid around his waist from behind as you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Morning,” you murmured against his skin.
Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed, just a fraction at the contact. He turned his head slightly and gave you a small, tired smile.
“Mornin’, babygirl.’
You rested your chin on his shoulder for a second, breathing him in. “Smells really good in here.”
Jimmy hummed in response, but his eyes flicked back over to Jey. The sight of him standing there, looking so fucking sad and uncomfortable, made something in his chest twist painfully.
He can’t even stand to be in the same room right now. He really don’t trust me no more.
You pulled back a little and glanced between the two of them.
“I can fix us some plates,” you offered, already reaching for one. Then you looked at Jey, voice softening. “Sweet boy, what do you want–”
“I got it,” Jimmy cut in, a little too quick. His tone came out firmer than he meant it to. He grabbed the plate he’d already made and turned toward Jey before you could finish. “I got it.”
He crossed the short distance and held the plate out.
Jey finally looked up.
Their eyes met for half a second. Jey’s expression flickered, something raw and hurt flashing across his face, before he quickly looked away again. He reached out and took the plate without a word, fingers brushing Jimmy’s.
Jimmy felt that tiny touch like a burn.
Jey didn’t say thank you. He just turned and walked over to the counter, shoulders still tight, and sat back down without looking back.
Jimmy stood there for a second, hand still half extended, not quite sure what to do with it now. Then he dropped it to his side and turned back to the stove, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
I’m losing him.
The thought sat heavy in his chest as he grabbed another plate and started fixing one for you. He kept his movements steady, but his mind was loud. Every scrape of Jey’s fork against his plate behind him was confirmation enough.
Jey wasn’t eating with any kind of appetite. He was moving slow. Reluctant.
He’s gotta force himself just to be around me. Thought this would make things better.
Jimmy finished making your plate and turned around, setting it down in front of you. You took it, but he could already feel your eyes on him again– that quiet, searching look like you were trying to figure out what the hell was going on with him.
He didn’t give you a chance to ask.
He just turned back to the sink and started cleaning up, letting the sound of the running water fill the space. He could still hear Jey behind him. Every sound made something in his chest twist tighter.
A moment later, he felt you standing beside him at the sink. You hadn’t moved away after he brushed you off, and he could still feel your eyes on him. Jimmy kept his focus on the dishes, scrubbing a little harder than necessary.
“You’re not gonna eat?”
Jimmy’s hand slowed under the water. He didn’t look at you. Just shook his head once.
“No,” he said, voice low. “I don’t feel like it.”
Jimmy kept his eyes on the sink, letting the water run over his hands even though the last plate was already clean. He could feel you still standing beside him, quiet. Too quiet. He didn’t have to look at you to know what you were thinking.
She already know I’m upset.
You knew him too well. You knew that when he didn’t eat, it meant something was off. He could feel it in the way you hadn’t moved away yet. In the way the air between you had thickened.
I don’t want her worryin’. Why I always gotta fuck up everything?
“What’s wrong with you?” you whispered. “Are you okay? Like… what’s going on?”
“Nothin’,” he said, keeping his tone even. “I’m fine.”
You didn’t move. He could feel you still watching him, trying it together.
“Jimmy.”
“I’m fine,” he said again, a little firmer. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong. I’m good.”
But even as the words left his mouth, he could feel the weight of your stare lingering on the side of his face. He didn’t look at you again. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he was scared he’d see that same concerned look and feel even worse about it.
She already know I’m lyin’.
Jimmy tossed the towel onto the counter and turned slightly, putting a little more space between you without making it obvious.
He heard you sigh softly through your nose, then the sound of your bare feet moving away from him. A moment later, you walked back over to the counter where Jey was sitting and slid into the seat beside him. Jimmy didn’t turn around, but he could hear the way you leaned into Jey, the soft rustle of fabric.
Jimmy glanced over his shoulder anyway.
You were tucked in close to Jey now, your head resting against his shoulder. Jey didn’t say anything, but Jimmy saw the way his shoulders seemed to drop slightly. Like your touch was the only thing keeping him grounded right now.
Jimmy’s chest ached.
She shouldn’t have to do all that. She shouldn’t be havin’ sit there trying to hold him together just ‘cause I fucked up.
He turned back to the sink, jaw tight, and kept cleaning even though there was nothing left to clean. His mind was loud, spinning in circles he couldn’t seem to break out of.
I love him.
It hit him hard and sudden, the same way it always did when he let himself really sit with it. Jey was his twin. His other half. The person who had been there through everything life had thrown at him. Jimmy had spent most of his life looking out for him, protecting him, making sure he was okay.
And now here he was, standing across the kitchen like a stranger. Too scared to even touch him because he was convinced he’d already broken something unfixable between them.
I want him. Just wish he could see how bad I want it. Want him to trust me again.
He wanted Jey. He wanted Jey to feel safe with him. Wanted him to know that no matter what, he could say no and Jimmy would still be there. Still love him. Still take care of him. Jimmy wanted to make him understand that he belonged to both of them, not just you. But every time he thought about reaching for Jey now, the fear came rushing back in.
I went too far. Ain’t no way he wants me like that no more.
Jimmy had pushed. He knew he had. Jimmy had taken something Jey had only just realized he wanted and then turned it into something that made him pull away. Made him look sad and small in his own kitchen. Made him sit there and barely eat while Jimmy stood here washing dishes like a damn coward.
You gotta pull it together.
If Jimmy was being honest, he knew what to do to make Jey fold. He knew how much his brother loved to be humiliated. How much he got off on being told what to do, on being called names, on having his hair pulled while being fucked stupid. He knew Jey was a whore for it.
And he also knew that every once in a while, Jey liked when Jimmy was soft with him too. Liked when Jimmy kissed his neck, when he held his face and told him he was good. Jey didn’t get that version of him often, but when he did, it always wrecked him in the best way.
I could do it right now.
Jimmy thought about how he could walk over there and pull Jey into his arms. He could kiss his neck, his face, his mouth until Jey understood how sorry he really was. He could make Jey feel good, make him soft and pliant again, make him say that he forgave him.
Jimmy knew he could. He wanted to do it so fucking bad it hurt. But he couldn’t. Because what if Jey didn’t really want him anymore? What if Jimmy had already ruined it?
Jimmy had blown it. He’d had a chance, maybe even the start of something more, and he had fucked it up by pushing too hard, too fast. He still couldn’t get the image of Jey on their bed out of his mind. How pretty Jey looked under him. Jimmy had wanted more even then. He still wanted more. He wanted to claim Jey the way he’d been holding himself back from doing for a long time.
I can’t risk hurtin’ him even more. This is just how it’s gonna be now.
Jimmy just needed to accept it. Jey didn’t want the same things from him anymore. Maybe he never really had, and Jimmy had just been too selfish to see it. But either way, the distance was there now, and Jimmy wasn’t going to be the one to close it.
I love him too much.
Jimmy let the sound of the water drown out everything else– the quiet scrape of Jey’s fork, the soft murmur of your voice as you talked to him, the ache sitting heavy and permanent in Jimmy’s chest.
It’s just how it’s gonna be.
He told himself that again and again, trying to make it stick. Even if it felt like it was killing him.
You were tired.
Not the kind of tired that came from lack of sleep, though you hadn’t been sleeping great either. It was deeper than that. This was the kind of exhaustion that settled into your bones after spending an entire day watching two people you love act like strangers around each other.
It had been gnawing at you the past couple days. Only growing heavier with every awkward glance, every short answer, every time Jey looked at Jimmy like he was waiting for something that never came.
You had been perfectly happy being with Jimmy for a long time. You loved him. You still did. But adding Jey into the mix hadn’t felt like an intrusion. More than anything, it had felt like something clicking into place. Something the three of you needed, even if none of you had said it out loud at first. You could see it now, clear as day.
Jimmy needed Jey just as much as Jey needed the both of you.
Jey had been starving for this kind of belonging. For the mix of being babied and used. For having people who saw every soft, needy, filthy part of him and still wanted him. And Jimmy? Jimmy had been holding back for so long. But you’d watched the way he looked at Jey when he thought no one was paying attention. You’d seen the want there. The need.
So when things started building between them, you hadn’t been surprised. You’d seen it coming. You knew Jey wouldn’t ask for it on his own. He never did. Jey wanted it too badly, and that scared him. But you also knew Jimmy wanted it just as much, even if he was scared to make the first move.
That was why you pushed. Why you had whispered in Jey’s ear while you rode him. Coaxing him, teasing him, telling him he could have it if he just asked. And when Jimmy finally gave it, it had been everything. Hot and messy and intense in a way that felt inevitable.
I thought everybody had a good time. So why the fuck are they acting so weird?
You glanced across the room again, watching the way Jey sat curled in on himself on the couch. He looked sad in a way that made your chest ache. It wasn’t his usual clingy, needy, puppy-eyed sadness. This was more than that.
You’d spent days trying to fix it. You thought maybe he just needed a little extra reassurance after everything that happened. It had been a lot. So you’d been giving him what you knew usually helped.
Extra affection. Extra closeness. Letting him stay tucked against you, petting his hair, letting him nuzzle into you whenever he wanted. And he wasn’t rejecting it. He was accepting every bit of it, leaning into your touch like he needed it.
But it still wasn’t enough. You could tell. The sadness in his eyes hadn’t gone anywhere. If anything, it had gotten worse.
Don’t even get me started on Jimmy.
Jimmy was being short with you in a way that he never was. He wasn’t cocky. He wasn’t assertive in that easy, natural way he usually was. When you asked him what was wrong this morning, he’d brushed you off so quickly it almost felt like a slap.
He had said he was fine. That nothing was wrong. But you knew he was lying. You could see it all over his face. But he still wouldn’t talk to you about how he was feeling, and that hurt more than you wanted to admit.
Both of your boys were leaving you in the dark, and you hated it.
You knew you hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d been here. You’d been present. You’d given Jey the push he needed and you’d reassured Jimmy when he got scared afterward. You’d done everything you could think of to keep things steady between the three of you.
But now it felt like neither of them trusted you enough to tell you what was actually going on. Jey walking around looking heartbroken, and Jimmy being so damn on edge. It made something in your chest ache. Not just confusion, but a quiet, frustrated hurt. They were keeping pieces of themselves from you, and you had no idea why.
And on top of all that, you knew they hadn’t talked to each other either.
Not once since that night. Jey hadn’t left your side in days. He’d been glued to you from the moment you woke until you went to bed, and Jimmy hadn’t acted like he cared if Jey was around or not. They hadn’t been alone together. Not for a second. And that told you everything you needed to know.
Something was wrong between them. Something big. And neither of them were talking to you about it. Neither of them were talking to each other. And you were fucking tired of it.
You loved them both too much to keep watching this shit play out. Jey needed Jimmy. Jimmy needed Jey. And neither of them seemed willing, or able, to do anything about the wall that had gone up between them.
Right now, you were sitting in the living room with both of them, and the tension was so thick you could barely breathe through it. Jey was curled up on the couch by himself, knees pulled up and arms wrapped around them. He hadn’t said much all evening. Every now and then he’d glance at Jimmy, but the second Jimmy looked back, Jey would drop his eyes again like it was too much to handle.
Meanwhile, Jimmy was sitting in the armchair across from the couch, scrolling on his phone like nothing was wrong. Like the air in the room wasn’t heavy with everything they weren’t saying. Like Jey wasn’t sitting ten feet away from him looking like a kicked puppy. Every so often Jimmy would look up too, almost like he was checking on Jey without wanting to be obvious about it. Then he’d go right back to his phone like he hadn’t just spent the last hour pretending his twin didn’t exist.
You sat there between them, watching it all, until something inside you finally snapped.
This is fucking ridiculous.
Without saying a word, you reached for the remote and turned the TV off. The sudden silence felt loud. Both of them looked up at you at the same time– Jey with wide, confused eyes, and Jimmy with his brows pulled together, already bracing himself.
You stood up.
Jimmy was the first to speak, his voice careful. “Why’d you turn it off?”
You looked at him, then at Jey, then back at Jimmy. Your heart was pounding, but your voice came out steady. “We need to figure this shit out right now.”
Jimmy blinked, trying to play it off. “Whatchu talkin’ about?”
You let out a short, humorless laugh. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
He didn’t answer. Just stared at you, jaw tight, phone still in his hand, not knowing what to do with it now. You looked between the two of them again. Looked at Jey curled up looking heartbroken, and Jimmy sitting there acting like he didn’t care when you knew damn well that wasn’t true.
“I’m tired.” you said, voice quieter. “I’m tired of you two acting like this. I’m tired of my boys not talking to each other. Not wanting to be around each other. And I don’t know what the hell happened to y’all, but I’m done pretending like everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.”
Jimmy opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance.
“You two need to figure it out,” you said, looking straight at him. “Right now. I’m not doing this anymore.”
The room was dead silent. For a second, the two of them just stared at each other across the room. It was quick and panicked, but you caught it. Then they both looked at you.
“You mean… now?” Jimmy’s voice was careful but you could hear his nervousness underneath.
You nodded. “Yes. I’m not going anywhere. Actually–” You walked back over to the armchair. “Get up.”
Jimmy blinked at you, clearly thrown. “Get up,” you repeated, your eyes locked on his. “Don’t play with me.”
He hesitated for half a second, like he was debating whether to push back. But something in your face must’ve told him you weren’t in the mood, because he slowly stood up. You didn’t thank him. You just moved past him and sat down in the chair he’d just vacated, and made yourself comfortable. Then you looked between the two of them and motioned toward the couch.
“Go sit by your brother,” you said, nodding toward Jey. “Go on. I don’t got all day.”
Jimmy didn’t move right away, still caught off guard by the way you were speaking to him. You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
Jimmy closed his eyes, exhaled through his nose, and walked over to the couch. Every step looked so stiff. Uncomfortable. So unsure of himself. Jey was still curled up the same way he had been all evening– knees pulled in close to his chest, arms holding himself together. He didn’t look up when Jimmy sat down beside him. He just shifted slightly, making a little more room, but not enough that they were actually touching.
Jimmy’s hands were in his lap. His face was tight, eyebrows drawn together. He still couldn’t look at Jey.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Jey’s bottom lip disappeared between his teeth as he started chewing on the inside of it. It was a nervous habit you’d seen before when he was overwhelmed. His eyes were glassy, and after a few seconds you saw them start to water. He blinked hard, trying to fight it, but it was already too late. A single tear slipped down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand, embarrassed to be crying in front of either of you.
Jimmy’s face scrunched up even more. His shoulders were so tense they looked painful. He cleared his throat once. Then again, struggling to force his words out.
You felt something in your chest soften.
You had been so frustrated all day. You were confused, hurt, and tired of being kept in the dark. But watching them now, sitting side by side and looking like they were both one wrong word away from breaking… it hit different. This wasn’t just attitude or distance. This was pain. Real, heavy pain. And it made your anger shift into something quieter. Something more protective.
Jimmy cleared his throat one more time, still staring down at his hands.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Jimmy sat there stiffly after he spoke, the words scraping something raw out of him. His hands were clenched tight on his thighs and he still wouldn’t look at his brother.
The silence after felt heavy, almost suffocating.
Jey’s face had gone pale. His arms were still wrapped around his knees but his grip had loosened. He was looking at Jimmy with wet eyes, trying to make sense of what he’d just heard.
“I-I’m real sorry,” he said again. “I thought uh– thought maybe you wasn’t ‘bout it. And that you ain’t want it. I was just bein’ selfish.”
Jey’s brows pulled together hard, confusion and hurt flashing across his face all at once.
“What?” His voice was already starting to crack. “Why would you think that?”
Jimmy’s jaw flexed. He kept his eyes on his hands. “You ain’t say much,” he muttered. “And then you kept lookin’ so fuckin’ sad. Like you regret it. And I– I ain’t want you to feel like you gotta keep doin’ shit you don’t wanna do just ‘cause I–”
He stopped himself, shaking his head, unable to finish. Jey’s bottom lip started trembling. He looked completely lost.
“But I wanted it,” Jey said, voice breaking. “I do. Why you– why you sayin’ all this like I don’t?”
His voice cracked hard on the last word. Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks, and he didn’t even try to stop them this time. His shoulders started shaking as he stared at Jimmy, waiting for him to take it all back.
But Jimmy still wouldn’t look at him.
Without warning, Jey suddenly lurched forward, collapsing into Jimmy’s side with a broken sob. His arms wrapped tightly around Jimmy’s middle as he buried his face against his chest. His whole body was shaking with the force of his crying.
Jimmy went completely still.
His arms hovered in the air for a second, unsure if he was allowed to touch Jey. His eyes were wide, face tight with shock and something close to panic. It was like the feeling of Jey against him had short circuited something in his brain.
Jey just held on tighter, sobbing into his shirt.
Jimmy’s arms finally came down, slow and hesitant. One hand settled carefully on Jey’s back, afraid that even that was too much. His other hand hovered near Jey’s hair before resting there, fingers trembling slightly as they threaded through the messy curls.
You could see it all over Jimmy’s face.
He looked wrecked. Guilty. But underneath all of that, there was still doubt. You could see it in the way his jaw stayed tight and how he wouldn’t fully relax into Jey’s touch. Part of him still didn’t believe what Jey was saying.
Jey must’ve felt it too.
He pulled back just enough to look up at Jimmy, eyes red and wet, face blotchy from crying. His hands stayed fisted in the front of Jimmy’s shirt, afraid to let go of his brother.
“I wanted you,” he choked out, voice hoarse and broken. “And I– I told you. Why won’t you believe me?”
Jimmy’s eyes flicked away for a second before finally coming to look at Jey’s face.
“‘Cause I know you. I don’t want you sayin’ it just ‘cause you think that’s what I wanna hear,” he muttered. “And I don’t want you forcin’ yourself to do something ‘cause I fucked up.”
Jey’s face twisted with fresh hurt.
“I ain’t forcing myself,” he said, voice cracking again. “I’m not just sayin’ it to make you feel better.”
Jey kept going, voice shaking worse now.
“I love you,” he choked out. “But you don’t even wanna be around me no more.”
“That’s not true,” Jimmy said immediately. “It ain’t true at all.”
Jey let out a shaky, frustrated sob. His eyes were puffy, tears still streaming down his face.
“Then why you keep doin’ all this?” he asked, voice cracking again. “Why you pullin’ away like I did somethin’ wrong? Like we did somethin’ wrong?
Jimmy’s hands flexed against Jey’s back, but he still didn’t pull him in any closer.
“I just don’t wanna hurt you.”
Jey let out a broken, frustrated sound and shoved weakly at Jimmy’s chest.
“You ain’t hurtin’ me!” he snapped. “What do I gotta do to make you believe me? I gotta get on my fuckin’ knees and beg you to touch me again? That what you need?”
Jimmy didn’t answer. His face had gone tight with something heavy and painful. His jaw was clenched, eyes glassy, like Jey’s words had hit him somewhere deep. He wanted to speak, but nothing came out. He just stared at Jey, breathing uneven, trying to keep himself together.
Jey’s bottom lip trembled.
“Do I?” he asked again, quieter this time.
Jimmy’s voice came out rough and low.
“Jey…”
It sounded like it hurt him to even say his name. But Jey didn’t wait for anything else. He slid off the couch and dropped to his knees right between Jimmy’s legs, the same way he had the night before. His hands came up to rest on Jimmy’s thighs as he looked up at him, eyes red and wet.
“I want you,” Jey said, voice hoarse and desperate. “And I want you to want me. I want you to use me and be mean to me. I want you to pull my hair and call me names and make me feel like I’m yours. Please just– please believe me.”
Jimmy’s whole expression changed.
The tension in his face softened almost instantly, something raw and aching bleeding into his eyes as he looked down at Jey. Slowly, carefully, he reached down and cupped Jey’s face with one hand, thumb brushing away a fresh tear that had slipped down his cheek.
The second Jimmy touched him, Jey’s whole body reacted. It was like something inside him gave out. His shoulders dropped, and he leaned forward heavily, pressing all of his weight into Jimmy’s touch. His eyes fluttered shut and a shaky breath left him as he nuzzled into Jimmy’s palm.
Jimmy’s thumb kept brushing slowly across Jey’s wet cheek, his expression soft in a way you hadn’t seen in days. He was looking down at Jey like he was finally letting himself see him again. Finally letting himself believe Jey.
Jimmy’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke again.
“You mean it?
Jey nodded immediately, still leaning into Jimmy’s hand.
“Please,” he whispered. “Please.”
Jimmy exhaled shakily, Jey’s words finally cracking something open in him. His other hand came up to cradle Jey’s other cheek, holding him gently between his palms.
“You sure?” he asked. “You really want this?”
Jey nodded again, leaning harder into Jimmy’s touch.
“Yes,” he breathed. “I want it. I want you. Please.”
Jimmy’s eyes lifted. He looked up at you over Jey’s head, and for a second, everything went quiet between the three of you. His gaze was heavy, uncertain, almost asking without words.
You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to.
You just held his stare and gave him the smallest nod. Steady. Certain. The kind of look that said Yes. It’s okay. I’m here.
Jimmy's shoulders dropped just slightly. He didn’t say anything either. He just looked back down at Jey and took another deep, shaky breath.
Then he helped Jey to his feet.
Jey went easily, still sniffling, still clinging to Jimmy’s shirt as they started down the hall. You followed right behind them, close enough that Jey could feel you there. The only sounds were Jey’s quiet, uneven breathing and the soft shuffle of bare feet against the floor.
Jimmy didn’t waste any more time.
As soon as you walked into the bedroom, Jimmy was pushing Jey back onto the bed. Jey went easily, arms sliding up to wrap around Jimmy’s neck as he fell. The second their bodies met the mattress, Jimmy’s mouth was on his.
The kiss was deep. Heavy. It wasn’t rushed, but it wasn’t soft either. It had been held back for too long– all tongue and heat and desperation. You could hear Jey’s breath hitch every time Jimmy’s mouth moved against his. Jey’s fingers curled tighter around Jimmy, refusing to let go of him.
You climbed onto the bed beside them without a word, settling in close.
Jimmy’s mouth eventually left Jey’s and trailed lower, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along the line of his jaw before moving down to his neck. Jey’s head tilted back instinctively, a soft sound slipping from his throat. You could see the way Jey’s pulse jumped under Jimmy’s mouth, his chest rising and falling faster with every kiss.
Every so often, Jimmy’s gaze would flick up to meet yours– quiet, searching. And every time, you give him a small nod.
It’s okay. Keep going.
He didn’t smile, but something in his expression eased each time you did it. It made you feel like your silent reassurance was the only thing letting him keep moving forward.
You reached out and gently ran your fingers through Jey’s messy curls, brushing them back from his damp forehead.
“You’re doing so good,” you murmured, voice low and soft. “Such a sweet boy. We got you.”
Jey made a quiet, broken sound at your words, his hand blinding reaching out until it found yours. He laced your fingers together tightly, squeezing. His other arm stayed wrapped around Jimmy’s neck, holding him close as Jimmy continued kissing down the column of his throat.
Jimmy’s hand slid under the hem of Jey’s shirt, palm pressing flat against his stomach. His touch was careful, almost reverent, still unsure if it was even real. Every few seconds his eyes would lift to yours again, and you’d give him the same small nod.
It’s okay. He wants this. We want this.
Jey’s grip on your hand tightened as Jimmy’s mouth found a sensitive spot just below his ear. His back arched slightly off the bed, a soft, shaky moan slipping out of him.
Jimmy’s hand moved higher, feeling over his ribs and chest, relearning the shape of him. Jey’s breathing had gone heavier, his hips shifting restlessly beneath Jimmy’s weight every time their bodies pressed together.
You stayed right beside them, one hand still gently stroking through Jey’s hair while the other stayed laced with his. Your thumb kept brushing slow, soothing circles over his knuckles.
Jimmy’s thigh was pressed firmly between Jey’s legs, and every so often he’d roll hips down, grinding slow. You could feel the heat building between them. Saw the way Jey’s body responded every time Jimmy’s cock rubbed against his through their clothes. Jey’s soft sounds were starting to fill the room, his little whimpers and gasps making your chest ache in the best way.
Jimmy’s mouth stayed on Jey’s neck, kissing and sucking gently. But every time Jey let out of those needy noises, Jimmy’s movements grew a little more purposeful. His hands spread wide over Jey’s chest and he rocked down against him again.
Jey’s fingers tightened around yours.
You glanced at Jimmy and caught his eyes. He was still being careful, still holding back, but you could see the change happening. Saw it in the way Jimmy’s gaze lingered on Jey’s flushed face. One of his hands slid out from under Jey’s shirt and came up to cradle the side of his neck instead. Jimmy’s thumb brushed over Jey’s jaw as he leaned in close, lips brushing against his ear.
“You like that?” Jimmy murmured. “Feels good when I grind on you like this?”
Jey let out a broken little moan, hips jerking up to meet Jimmy’s again.
“Yeah…” he breathed. “Please– don’t stop.”
Jimmy’s eyes found yours again for a split second. You gave him another small nod, and this time, something darker flickered behind his gaze. His hand tightened just slightly on Jey’s neck as he rolled his hips down harder, pressing his cock firmly against Jey’s.
“That’s it,” Jimmy muttered, voice dropping lower. “Rub that pretty dick against me. You been wantin’ this?”
Jey’s whole body shuddered at the words. His free hand moved to grip Jimmy’s shoulder, and another desperate sound slipped out of him. You stayed close, still petting through Jey’s hair as you leaned in to press a kiss to his temple.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered. “Such a sweet boy for us.”
Jimmy’s mouth found Jey’s neck again, his teeth grazing over the skin and biting down lightly. His hips kept moving in that slow grind. Every time Jey moaned, Jimmy’s voice followed, low and filthy against his skin.
“Fuck, you already so hard f’me.” he rasped. “Knew you’d get like this. Just so easy.”
Jey whimpered, his thighs trembling slightly around Jimmy’s as he rocked up to meet him. Jimmy’s grip on Jey tightened just a little more.
“Tell me how bad you want it,” he murmured against Jey’s throat. He rolled his hips down again, slower this time, letting Jey feel every inch of him through the fabric. Jey’s breath hitched hard, his hips jerking.
“More…” Jey whimpered. “I w-want it–”
It came out broken and stuttered, his face flushed deep as he clung to Jimmy’s shirt. Jimmy pulled back just enough to look down at him, pleased with the desperate little sounds Jey was making.
“Yeah?”
Jey nodded quickly, eyes glassy. “Please.”
Jimmy sat up just enough to grab the hem of Jey’s shirt and slowly pulled it up and off, dragging the fabric over the skin in a way that made Jey shiver. Jimmy reached back and yanked his own shirt off in one smooth motion, tossing it somewhere behind him.
The second it was gone, Jimmy’s hands were back on him. His palms slid over Jey’s bare chest, thumbs brushing over his nipples before gripping his waist and pulling him in closer. His skin was warm when he pressed back down against Jey, chest to chest as he started grinding harder. The friction and slow rolls of his hips had Jey gasping and arching more beneath him.
Jey’s cock was straining against his shorts now, and Jimmy didn’t miss it.
“Take these off,” he muttered against Jey’s throat, tugging at the waistband of his shorts. “Now.”
Jey’s breath stuttered and you gently turned his face toward you. Your thumb brushed over his flushed cheek as you looked at him.
“Go ahead,” you said softly. “Take them off for me.”
Jey’s eyes were wide and glassy as he nodded. He let go of Jimmy just long enough to shove his shorts and boxers down to his hips. You helped him the rest of the way, sliding them off and tossing them aside.
You couldn’t help but let your eyes drag over Jey for a moment. His skin was flushed a warm, deep tone, and the trail of dark hair leading down from his navel drew your eyes lower.
His cock was hard and heavy, lying against his stomach. The head was already leaking, a shiny bead of pre-cum welling at the tip before sliding down the side. It twitched under your gaze, like even just being looked at was too much for him right now.
God, you wanted to taste him.
You wanted to lean down and drag your tongue over him. Wanted to feel him throb against your lips. But you held back. Because this wasn’t about you right now. This was about them.
Jimmy sat back on his knees for a second, eyes dark as he looked down at Jey completely bare beneath him. Then he hooked his thumbs into his own sweats and shoved them down, kicking them off. His cock sprang free– thick, long and already hard. It bobbed heavily between his legs as he settled back over Jey. The sight of them both like this made heat curl low in your stomach.
Jimmy’s hand slid lower, trailing down Jey’s stomach. Then, slowly, he wrapped his hand around Jey’s cock.
His whole body jolted, a broken, startled moan tearing from his throat as he bucked into Jimmy’s hand. His grip on your hand tightened almost painfully, and his other hand flew up to clutch at Jimmy’s shoulder. His eyes squeezed shut for a second, lips parted around a shaky gasp as Jimmy’s fingers closed around him.
Jimmy hummed, surprised by how good it felt to finally touch him like this. He gave Jey one slow, experimental stroke, thumb swiping over the leaking head and spreading pre-cum down his length. “Look at that. So fuckin’ wet.”
Jey let out a desperate, stuttering sound, his hips twitching up into Jimmy’s fist. Jimmy stroked him again, watching every little reaction with dark, focused eyes.
“Been wantin’ to get you like this,” he rasped, voice dropping even lower. “Knew you’d feel good in my hands. Knew you was gonna get messy f’me.” He twisted his wrist, and Jey’s thighs trembled. “That’s it. Leak all over me, baby boy. Show me how bad you want it.”
Jey’s head tipped back against the pillows, a soft whimper slipping out of him. His cock throbbed visibly in Jimmy’s grip, another thick bead sliding over Jimmy’s knuckles. You stayed right there beside them, one hand still gently stroking through Jey’s hair while the other stayed laced tightly with his. You could feel how hard he was gripping you.
“Such a good boy,” you murmured against his temple.
Jimmy’s hand kept moving, and he leaned down to press his mouth against Jey’s throat again. Jey was shaking now, soft sounds escaping him every time Jimmy stroked him.
Jimmy’s voice was low and filthy against Jey’s skin.
“Look at you. Already fallin’ apart and I barely even touched you.” He gave Jey another slow stroke. “You gonna be so fuckin’ good, aren’t you? Gonna let me have you however I want?”
Jey nodded quickly, almost frantically, and his grip on Jimmy’s shoulder tightened.
“Yes– yes, I’ll be good,” he gasped. “I’ll be good, I swear. Just p-please don’t stop. I’ll do whatever you want. Be so good for you–”
His words broke into a desperate whimper as Jimmy’s teeth grazed the side of his neck.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
Jey let out another shaky moan, his cock twitching hard. You could feel how worked up he was getting. How close he already seemed just from Jimmy’s hands. You cupped Jey’s cheek again, and he turned his head just enough to press his face into your touch, another whine slipping out of him. You glanced at Jimmy again. He was still stroking Jey slow and steady, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. Saw how he was struggling to hold himself back. You gently squeezed Jey’s hand.
“I’ll be right back,” you murmured to both of them.
You slipped off the bed and moved to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer and grabbing the bottle of lube. When you turned back around, Jimmy was still hovering over Jey, one hand wrapped around his leaking cock while the other braced beside his head. Jey looked completely wrecked already. Flushed, teary eyed, and trembling under Jimmy’s touch.
You climbed back onto the bed and set the lube down beside them, then leaned in to press a soft kiss to Jey’s forehead. His skin was warm and damp with sweat, and he let out a slow breath, the small bit of affection steadying him. You stayed right beside Jey, bringing one hand to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
Jimmy reached for the lube and popped the cap open. He poured some into his palm, warming it between his fingers for a second before he reached down between Jey’s legs.
Jey’s breath hitched the second Jimmy’s slick fingers brushed over his hole.
Jimmy took his time. He circled the tight ring of muscle slowly, spreading the lube, teasing. His eyes stayed locked on Jey’s face the entire time.
“She’s done this with you before.” His middle finger pressed in slightly, just enough to make Jey’s hips twitch. “And you came just from that too, huh? Just needed to be filled up?”
Jey’s voice came out shaky. “Y-yeah.”
Jimmy pushed his finger in deeper, slow and steady, working it in and out a few times before adding a second. He was being careful, but also testing how much Jey could take. How much he wanted.
Jey’s free hand gripped the sheets beside him as Jimmy started to fuck him with his fingers, slow and deep. His cock lay heavy and leaking against his stomach, spasming every time Jimmy’s fingers curled inside him. Jimmy watched him for a long moment, then spoke again, voice quieter but no less intense.
“You wanna be mine?” he asked, fingers still moving slow and deep. “You really want that?”
Jey’s eyes were glassy, his breathing ragged. He looked up at Jimmy like the question had knocked the air out of him.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Jimmy didn’t let up. He added a third finger, stretching him carefully. “Say it right,” Jimmy said, voice low. “Tell me.”
Jey’s voice cracked, but he didn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir,” he breathed. “I wanna be yours. Please.”
Jimmy’s eyes darkened at the words. He pulled his fingers out slowly and reached for the lube again, coating his cock generously. The sight of it– thick, flushed, and shiny with lube– made your stomach flip.
He hooked one of Jey’s legs up, hand sliding under his thigh and pushing it back toward Jey’s chest, opening him up. Jimmy lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing against Jey’s slick hole.
He didn’t push in yet. Instead, he looked down at Jey. “You sure?” he asked one last time.
Jey’s eyes were wet again, but he nodded, voice soft and certain. “I’m sure,” he whispered. “I want it. I want you.”
Jimmy let out a slow breath, then started to push in.
He went slow. Painfully slow. He was forcing himself to be careful, every muscle in his body tight with restraint. The thick head of his cock pressed against Jey’s hole, stretching him open inch by inch. Jey’s breath hitched hard, his free hand flying up to grip Jimmy’s shoulder again as his body tried to adjust to the intrusion.
You laced one hand tightly with Jey’s, the other coming back up to gently stroke through his hair.
“Shhh, baby,” you murmured against his temple, pressing a soft kiss there. “Breathe for me. You’re okay. We gotchu.”
Jey’s eyes were squeezed shut, his face flushed and damp with tears. His thighs trembled where they were spread open around Jimmy’s hips. A shaky, overwhelmed sound left his throat as Jimmy sank deeper.
Jimmy’s jaw was clenched tight, but his voice came out low and rough when he spoke.
“Fuck… you’re so tight,” he muttered, one hand gripping the underside of Jey’s thigh. “Takin’ me so good already.”
He paused halfway in, breathing hard, and looked down at Jey’s face. His free hand came up to cradle Jey’s cheek, thumb brushing away a fresh tear.
“Look at me,” Jimmy said, voice softer now. “You still with me?”
Jey’s eyes fluttered open, glass and wet. He nodded quickly, but a whimper slipped out of him when Jimmy pushed in another inch.
“I gotchu,” Jimmy murmured, leaning down to press his forehead against Jey’s for a second. “You doin’ so good. Just breathe, baby boy. Lemme in.”
You kept stroking Jey’s hair. “You’re okay,” you whispered. “Being such a sweet boy.”
Jimmy pulled back just slightly before sinking in deeper. “That’s it,” Jimmy rasped. It came out strained, but you could tell he was still trying to stay gentle. “You feel that? Makin’ you mine. Just like you wanted.”
Jey let out a broken moan, his hand squeezing yours tighter as his body finally started to relax around Jimmy’s cock. His other leg hooked loosely around Jimmy’s hip, pulling him in closer.
Jimmy bottomed out with a low groan, buried to the hilt inside Jey. He stayed still for a moment, breathing hard, forehead still pressed to Jey’s.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, voice laced with genuine concern. “Talk to me.”
Jey nodded again, though his words came out small and shaky. “Y-yes sir… I’m okay,” he whispered. “Just— fuck! You so big.”
Jimmy let out a short, breathless laugh against Jey’s mouth, brushing another kiss over his lips.
“I gotchu,” he murmured again. “Just tell me if it’s too much. I’ll slow down.”
Jimmy waited another moment, letting Jey feel the full weight and stretch of him. Then, slowly, he started to pull back. You watched as his cock dragged out of Jey, thick and glistening, until only the tip remained inside. Jey whimpered, trying to adjust to the sudden emptiness.
Jimmy paused there for another second, before pushing back in. He didn’t rush it. He sank all the way back inside in one smooth, controlled thrust until his hips were flush against Jey’s ass again.
The prettiest, broken moan slipped out of Jey. His back arched slightly off the bed, and his eyes squeezed shut as his body trembled around Jimmy’s cock. Another tear slipped down his cheek, and his grip on your hand tightened.
He pulled back again, just as slow, then pushed back in deep. Jey’s moan was louder and shakier this time. His own cock lay untouched against his stomach, flushed and leaking steadily onto his skin with every thrust.
Jimmy kept the pace slow, letting Jey really feel every inch of him. Each time he sank back in, Jey let out another soft, overwhelmed sound. Somewhere between a moan and a whimper. His hand left Jimmy’s shoulder to slide up to the back of his neck, holding him tightly.
You stayed close to the both of them, still stroking gently through Jey’s damp curls. Jimmy rolled his hips again, slow and deep.
“Tell me how it feels,” he rasped. “Wanna hear you say it.”
Jey’s voice came out shaky. “F-feels so full,” he whimpered. “So deep… fuck–”
Jimmy let out a low groan at the sound of Jey’s voice and he thrust back in harder. The wet sound of it filled the room as his hips snapped forward, burying himself deep in one smooth, rough motion. Jey let out another broken moan, tightening his grip on your hand.
Jimmy didn’t stop.
He started fucking Jey with deep, steady thrusts that had Jey gasping and whimpering beneath him. Jimmy’s hand left Jey’s thigh and slid up into his hair, pushing yours out of the way. His fingers tangled into Jey’s curls as he held him in place.
“Take it. Fuckin’ take it.”
Jey let out another moan, his eyes glassy and wet as he looked up at Jimmy. His hole clenched around Jimmy’s cock every time he pulled out, like his body didn’t want to let him go.
Jimmy’s grip in Jey’s hair tightened as he picked up the pace even more, hips snapping forward with more force now. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with Jey’s broken little moans.
“Already cryin’,” Jimmy rasped, voice dripping with satisfaction. “You love this, huh? Love gettin’ fucked like you was made for it?”
Jey let out a wrecked sound, nodding desperately as another tear slipped free. His hand slid down from Jimmy’s neck, nails digging into his back.
“Yes. I-I love it–”
Jimmy kept thrusting deeper, the headboard starting to knock lightly against the wall with every snap of his hips. He leaned back down, breath hot against Jey’s ear.
“Such a fuckin’ slut for it,” he muttered. “Been wantin’ this for so long and now you can’t even take it without cryin’. Pathetic.”
Jey moaned loudly as his words, his cock twitching hard against his stomach as another thick bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip. His eyes fluttered, glassy and overwhelmed, but he didn’t look away from Jimmy. If anything, he looked even more desperate.
You rubbed your thumb over the back of Jey’s knuckles. Every so often you’d lean in to press a soft kiss to his temple or murmur quiet praise against his skin.
“Doing so good, baby,” you whispered. “Just let him have you.”
You let go of Jey’s hand, and sat back up on your knees. Jimmy’s eyes flicked to yours as you moved towards him. He didn’t stop moving. His hips kept rolling, cock dragging deep inside Jey with every thrust, but he turned his head just slightly toward you.
You kissed him.
Jimmy’s lips moved against your in a deep, unhurried kiss while he continued fucking Jey beneath you both. Jimmy groaned into your mouth, tongue sliding against yours even as his hips kept snapping forward.
Jey let out a loud whine.
The sound was so desperate, and you felt the way his body jolted beneath Jimmy. His cock twitched hard and his hips stuttered. He was watching the two of you kiss– eyes glassy and wide, lips parted around shaky breaths– and it was clearly doing something to him. His hand grasped aimlessly at Jimmy’s back, and another shaky, pathetic sound slipped out of him.
Jimmy pulled back from the kiss just enough to glance down at Jey, and something dark flashed in his eyes.
“You for real?” Jimmy rasped, voice low and mean as he thrust in harder. “Whinin’ like a little bitch just ‘cause she kissed me. You really that desperate for attention?”
Jey let out another broken moan, his cheeks flushing even darker. Jimmy’s hand reached back down, gripping Jey’s hair tightly.
“It’s embarassin’,” he muttered, hips snapping again. “Can’t even take my cock without gettin’ all worked up over a fuckin’ kiss. You really are just a needy slut, huh?”
Jey whimpered again, louder this time, his hips jerking up helplessly to meet Jimmy’s thrusts. His cock continued to leak, dripping against his stomach and twitching with every word that left Jimmy’s mouth.
Jimmy let go of Jey’s hair, only to grip his jaw instead. His hold was almost bruising as he turned Jey’s head, forcing their eyes to meet.
“Look at me,” Jimmy ordered. “You want attention? That what this is?”
Jye’s lips parted, but no words came out.
Jimmy’s grip on his jaw tightened slightly. “Answer me,” he said, hips snapped forward again. “This ain’t enough for you? My cock ain’t enough? You need more attention than this?”
Jey’s voice came out shaky and small. “Y-yes…”
Jimmy’s eyes narrowed. “Say it,” he demanded. “Tell me you just want attention.”
Jey’s face burned, but he didn’t look away. His voice cracked as he answered. “I want attention,” he whispered. “Please.”
Jimmy let out a low, rough sound– somewhere between a groan and a dark laugh– and leaned down without warning, teeth sinking into the side of Jey’s neck. He bit down hard enough to make Jey’s breath catch, then sucked deep and slow, pulling the skin between his lips until a dark, blooming bruise formed. Jimmy’s hips never stopped moving, cock dragging deep and steady inside Jey.
At the same time, you shifted in closer and dipped your head to the other side of Jey’s neck. Your lips parted against his skin as you licked a slow, wet stripe up the column of his throat before latching on. You sucked hard enough to leave your own mark just below his jaw. He was warm. Slightly salty from sweat. The taste of his skin filled your mouth as you worked the bruise into his flesh.
You slipped a hand down between their bodies, fingers wrapping loosely around the base of Jey’s cock. You didn’t stroke him. You dragged the pad of your thumb in slow, deliberate circles over his leaking head, smearing the pre-cum that kept welling up. It was warm and slick against your skin, and every lazy pass of your thumb made more of it spill out over your fingers.
A loud, broken whine tore out of Jey. It was high and desperate as his hips continued to rock between you and Jimmy. His cock twitched in your hand, another thick spurt leaking over your thumb and down the side. His back arched sharply off the bed, and his hand flew up to grip the back of Jimmy’s head, needing something solid to hold onto. His thighs kept trembling, his muscles twitching with every slow sweep of your thumb and deep thrust of Jimmy’s cock.
“Better?” Jimmy muttered against the fresh mark he’d left on Jey’s neck. His hips rolled forward again, grinding deep. “I know what my boy needs.”
Jey let out another shaky, overwhelmed sob. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, letting out little gasps as you kept rubbing teasingly over the swollen head of his cock. You lifted your head just enough to press another soft, lingering kiss to the bruise you’d left on his neck, then let your lips brush against his skin as you spoke.
“Poor thing,” you murmured. “Can’t even take it, can you?”
Jey whimpered again and his eyes fluttered. His wet lashes clumped together as another shaky breath left him. Jimmy pulled back from Jey’s neck, lips shiny and slightly swollen from how hard he’d been sucking marks into his skin. His eyes were dark as he looked down at Jey beneath him– flushed, teary, and trembling– and something in his expression shifted.
Without a word, he reached down and hooked both of Jey’s legs, gripping behind his knees and pushing them up toward his chest. The new angle made Jey gasp, his body folding easily under Jimmy’s hands as he pressed open even more. Jimmy leaned in over him, using his weight to keep Jey’s legs pinned back, and then he started to move.
Jimmy fucked him hard.
There was nothing slow or careful about it anymore. Jimmy’s hips snapped forward in deep, relentless strokes. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as he drove into Jey with purpose. Every thrust punched a whimper out of Jey, his body jolting with the force of it.
Jimmy’s head fell back for a second. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat as Jey’s hole clenched tight around him.
“Fuck,” Jimmy moaned, voice rough and strained. “You feel so good.”
Jimmy kept slamming his hips forward like he was trying to bury himself as deep as he possibly could. His hands stayed firm behind Jey’s knees, keeping him folded open and helpless beneath him.
Jey looked ruined.
His eyes were even more glassy than before, moaning as Jimmy tried to claim every inch of him from the inside out. Tears slipped down his cheeks, mixing with the sweat on his skin. His hand was clutched so tightly around yours it was borderline painful. He was completely overwhelmed. Flushed, sweaty, and so fucking pretty as he took everything Jimmy gave him.
Jimmy’s eyes locked on Jey’s face. There was something almost desperate in the way he moved now. He needed Jey to feel exactly how much he wanted him. To feel how much he’d been holding back.
How much he loved him.
Jey’s eyes fluttered open, and for a second the two of them just looked at each other. Something passed between them in that moment. Raw and heavy and real. They looked so good like this– intense and so clearly lost in each other. And even in the midst of all the roughness, there was something almost tender underneath it.
Jimmy’s voice came out low and rough, strained from how close he was getting. “I ain’t gon’ be able to hold out much longer.” He leaned in closer, lips ghosting across Jey’s. “But if you want it,” Jimmy growled, voice dropping even lower, “you need to say it.”
Jey’s breath hitched hard. He clutched Jimmy tighter, nails digging into his shoulder. Jey let out another whine, his cock continuing to leak onto his stomach.
Jimmy didn’t let up. His thrusts stayed deep and relentless as he stared down at Jey, eyes burning. “You better use your words.”
Jey was falling apart. Another tear slipped out the corner of his eye as he looked up at Jimmy. His voice came out shakier than ever.
“Y-yes— fuck, yes, I want it,” he gasped, hips jerking uncontrollably. “Please. I-I want it. Want you to cum inside me— please!”
Jimmy let out a low groan, his rhythm faltering for just a second as Jey’s words hit him. His grip on Jey’s thigh tightened, and he fucked into him even harder. It seemed like hearing those words come straight from Jey’s mouth had snapped the last thread of Jimmy’s control.
Your eyes flicked between the two of them, heart pounding as you watched. You could feel how much they needed each other. How much Jimmy needed to give this to Jey, and how much Jey needed to take it. It was so fucking hot it made your head spin.
“That’s it,” Jimmy growled. “Say it again. Tell me you want it.”
Jey’s voice cracked as he moaned out another desperate, broken plea. His body trembled beneath Jimmy as he took every rough, claiming thrust.
Jimmy stayed buried deep inside Jey for a moment, his forehead resting against Jey’s as they both caught their breath. His hips were finally still, cock throbbing inside Jey’s tight heat. Then he shifted. It was a small movement. Just a slight roll of his hips and a change of angle.
The reaction was immediate.
Jey’s back arched hard off the bed as a loud moan tore out of him. His eyes squeezed shut for a second, mouth falling open around the sound.
“There it is,” Jimmy muttered, almost to himself. His hips rolled again– slow, deep, and precise– dragging the head of his cock right over that spot inside Jey. “Feel that?”
Jey let out another overwhelmed moan, his body shaking beneath Jimmy as another thrust hit him just right. Jimmy didn’t speed up yet. He kept the pace slow, each thrust long and deep, making sure he massaged Jey’s prostate every time he bottomed out.
Jey’s breathing had gone ragged, soft little whimpers slipping out of him. His cock was so flushed, it looked angry. It was smearing his wetness across his stomach with every roll of Jimmy’s hips, but neither of you even thought about touching it anymore.
You leaned in close again, brushing Jey’s damp curls back from his forehead before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Your lips lingered there for a second as you spoke quietly against his skin.
“You’re alright,” you murmured. “Our sweet boy. Just let it feel good.”
Jey let out a shaky breath, turning his head slightly toward you, chasing the comfort. His eyes were puffy, and another whimper slipped out of him when Jimmy gave another slow, deep thrust. His voice was quiet when he tried to speak.
“It’s so much–”
“You wanna cum?” Jimmy asked, eyes locked on Jey’s face. “You gon’ cum like this?”
Jey whined again, his eyes fluttering. “Please,” he gasped. “I-I need to– please!”
Jimmy’s thrusts stayed steady and deep as he leaned in even closer, lips brushing against Jey’s.
“Ask me right.”
“Can I– Can I please cum?” Jey whimpered. “Please, I’m so close. I can’t– I need it.”
Jimmy’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed his mouth to Jey’s in a slow, deep kiss, swallowing the next shaky sound that left Jey’s throat. His hips kept moving in those long strokes, fucking Jey deep while their mouths stayed locked together.
You kept holding his hand as you watched them kiss. Jey was trembling harder now, his body caught between the overwhelming pleasure and the effort of waiting for permission. Jimmy pulled back from the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against Jey’s again, his voice low and rough against his lips.
“Not yet,” he murmured. “Hold it for me a little longer.”
Jimmy’s pace shifted. He started fucking Jey harder again. The wet, filthy sound of his cock driving into Jey filled the room as he snapped his hips forward, burying himself in Jey over and over.
Even like this, Jey looked so beautiful.
His cheeks were flushed deep, streaked with tears. Sweat glistened on his skin, and his hair was damp and messy against the pillow. His eyes were unfocused, rolling back slightly every time Jimmy’s cock dragged over his prostate. His untouched cock was drooling, a steady stream sliding down his skin and pooling near his navel.
Jimmy’s breathing had gone rough and strained as he kept fucking into him, but his eyes never Jey. He could feel how close Jey was getting. The way his hole kept clenching tighter around Jimmy’s cock. The way Jey’s body was starting to shake harder beneath him.
“Fuck,” Jimmy growled. “You right there, ain’t you? Can feel you squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.”
Jey let out a wrecked, needy sound, nails digging so deep into Jimmy’s shoulder it almost broke skin.
“Please– please, I can’t! I’m gonna– I need to cum–” he babbled, voice cracking. “Can’t hold it. Please.”
Jimmy’s thrusts stayed deep and hard, his own breathing getting heavier as he watched Jey come undone beneath him. Jimmy could feel how close he was too. Jey’s tight, wet hole squeezed around him with every thrust, pulling him closer to the edge.
“Cum,” Jimmy growled. “Cum for me.”
The second the words left Jimmy’s mouth, Jey broke.
His whole body seized up as he came. His back arched sharply off the bed and a loud, broken moan tore out of him as his cock jerked against his stomach. Thick ropes of cum spilled out in heavy spurts, painting across his chest and stomach in messy, hot streaks. Some of it even reached as high as his collarbone. His hole clenched down hard around Jimmy’s cock, squeezing him tight in pulses.
Jimmy groaned at the feeling, his rhythm faltering as Jey milked him.
“That’s it. Shit!” Jimmy rasped, hips snapping forward harder now as he chased his own release. The fluttering of Jey’s hole clenching around him was too much. With a low, rough moan, Jimmy buried himself as deep as he could and came hard, flooding Jey’s hole in thick, hot ropes.
Jey gasped sharply at the feeling– his eyes widening for a second before closing again as Jimmy filled him up. The sensation of being pumped full made another weak spurt leak from his untouched cock.
Jimmy stayed buried deep inside him as he came, his hips still grinding forward in short, shallow thrusts like he was trying to push his cum even deeper.
You stayed right there beside them the entire time, hand still laced with Jey’s. It had started to hurt from how hard Jey had been gripping you, but you didn’t mind. You just kept murmuring soft, soothing words against his temple as his body slowly started to relax.
Jimmy’s forehead dropped to rest against Jey’s again, both of them breathing hard as they came down. Jimmy’s cock was still buried deep inside Jey, and you could see some of his cum was already starting to leak out, messy and hot between them.
Jey looked completely fucked out. Flushed, sweaty, and covered in his own cum, with Jimmy still deep inside him.
You all stayed like that for a little while longer. Jey’s body was still trembling slightly from how hard he’d come, and you could feel the way his muscles kept twitching with the aftershocks. His chest rose and fell in quick, shaky bursts. Every so often, a soft, spent sound would slip out of Jey’s throat, still floating from his high.
Jimmy’s hand was still on the back of Jey’s thigh, thumb brushing slow, absent strokes over his skin, not quite ready to let go yet. His breathing was heavy and warm against Jey’s mouth. They just stayed there, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same air while their bodies slowly came down.
After a minute, Jimmy let out a low, shaky exhale and carefully started to pull out. He did it so slow, trying not to overwhelm Jey any more than he already had. Jey let out a soft sigh at the feeling, his hole fluttering and clenching around nothing once Jimmy was gone. A small trickle of cum slipped out of him almost immediately, warm and messy between his thighs, and Jey’s face twisted slightly at the sensation.
Jimmy leaned down and pressed one last lingering kiss to Jey’s forehead, his lips warm and gentle against his skin. Then he carefully pushed himself up and off the bed. Without a word, he stood up, his movements a little unsteady, and walked out of the room. The sound of his bare feet against the floor faded as he disappeared down the hall.
The second Jimmy was gone, Jey’s expression changed.
His brows pulled together and he let out a small, confused whine. He turned his head toward the doorway, looking for Jimmy, his hand tightening around yours in a sudden, instinctive grip. His body gave an involuntary shiver, like the absence of Jimmy’s weight and warmth had left him feeling cold and untethered.
You immediately leaned in closer, cupping his cheek with your free hand and gently turning his face back toward you. Your thumb brushed slow, soothing strokes over his damp skin.
“Hey,” you murmured softly, voice low and gentle. “It’s okay, baby. He’s coming right back. I promise.”
Jey’s eyes flicked to yours, glassy and a little lost. He leaned into your touch without hesitation, needing the contact to ground him. His breathing was still shaky, and you could feel the slight tremble in his body as he came down from everything that had just happened.
You leaned down and pressed a slow, gentle kiss to his lips. It wasn’t rushed or heated. Just gentle and lingering, your mouth moving against his with quiet care. Jey kissed you back weakly, his lips soft and pliant, like even that small effort took energy he didn’t quite have yet. A whimpered softly when you pulled back, and his eyes fluttered halfway open again.
You didn’t go far. You stayed close, your thumb still moving in comforting circles against his cheek as you watched him. His lips were swollen, his face flushed and streaked with dried tears. His breath fanned warm across your lips, still a little uneven.
He looked so soft and vulnerable like this.
You brushed a few messy curls back from his forehead with your other hand, your touch light and careful.
“He’s just getting something to clean you up,” you whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “He’ll be right back. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Jey let out another small, shaky breath and nodded weakly, his eyes slipping shut again for a second. Little aftershocks ran through him every so often. You could feel it where your bodies were still close. His skin was warm and slightly sticky with sweat, and his breathing kept hitching in quiet bursts as he tried his best to settle.
You kept your hand on his cheek the whole time, your thumb moving in gentle strokes over his beard the way you knew he liked. The coarse hair felt soft under your touch, and every time your thumb brushed over it, Jey seemed to melt a little more into the bed.
You could feel how much he was still coming down. The way his muscles kept twitching faintly. The way his breathing hadn’t quite evened out yet. The way he kept leaning into every bit of touch you gave him.
“You’re okay,” you murmured again, quieter this time. “Just breathe for me, baby.”
Jey’s hand stayed loosely wrapped around yours. His grip wasn’t as tight as it had been, but it was still present. His eyes stayed half-lidded, glassy and soft, lips parting around shaky exhales.
A minute later, Jimmy walked back into the room.
He’d pulled on a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips, but his chest was still bare, skin still slightly flushed. In one hand, he carried a warm, damp washcloth, and in the other was a bottle of water with the cap already twisted off. His expression had changed completely. The sharp, intense look from earlier was gone, replaced with something much softer.
He didn’t say anything as he climbed back onto the bed. He just moved slowly, trying not to startle either of you, and gently settled between Jey’s still spread legs. The second Jimmy was close, Jey visibly relaxed. His shoulders dropped, the tension in his body easing almost immediately. He turned his head toward Jimmy with a small, tired sound.
Jimmy started with Jey’s chest and stomach, carefully dragging the warm cloth over his skin in slow strokes. He wiped away the mess of sweat and cum with quiet focus, making sure to be thorough but never rough. Jey watched him, his eyes still teary, hand still loosely holding onto yours.
When Jimmy moved lower, carefully wiping between Jey’s legs, Jey let out a soft sound and his thighs twitched involuntarily. The cloth was warm, but the area was still tender, and the light touch made Jey’s breath hitch. Jimmy immediately slowed down more, his movements becoming even gentler.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, voice low and soothing as he carefully cleaned him. “I know it’s sensitive. Just try to relax.”
Jey let out another shaky breath but nodded, his body slowly softening again under Jimmy’s careful hands. You could feel the way Jey’s grip on you loosened a little as Jimmy took care of him, like having both of you close was finally letting him fully settle back down.
Jimmy kept his touch light and patient as he finished cleaning between Jey’s legs, making sure not to press too hard. Once he was done, he set the cloth aside and reached for the water bottle again, holding it out toward Jey.
“Here,” he said quietly, his voice still soft. “Sit up for me a little. Drink some water.”
Jey let out a tired sound and with Jimmy’s help, he slowly pushed himself up into more of a sitting position. His body was still a little shaky, and he winced faintly as he moved, but he didn’t complain. Jimmy kept one steadying hand on his back while he brought the bottle to Jey’s lips. Jey drank slowly, his eyes half-lidded and heavy with exhaustion.
You had one hand resting lightly on Jey’s thigh, your hand rubbing soothingly over his skin. Once he’d taken a few good sips, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder.
“I’ll be right back,” you said quietly, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze. “I’m just gonna grab you some shorts, okay? You’ll probably feel better once you’re not completely naked.”
Jey turned his head toward you, still looking a little dazed, but he gave a small nod. His voice came out quiet and a little hoarse.
“Okay…”
You stood up from the bed and slipped out of the room, heading down the hall. Behind you, you could hear Jimmy’s low voice murmuring something soft to Jey, though you couldn’t make out the words. When you came back a minute later with a pair of Jey’s soft shorts in hand, the sight that greeted you made something in your chest tighten.
Jey was completely slumped into Jimmy’s side.
His body was heavy and loose, like all the tension had finally drained out of him. His head was resting against Jimmy’s shoulder, face tucked into the curve of his neck. He had one arm loosely wrapped around Jimmy’s middle. His eyes were sleepy, his breathing slow and even now that Jimmy was close. He looked so small like that, curled into Jimmy like he was trying to disappear into him.
Jimmy hadn’t moved much. He was sitting up against the headboard with one arm around Jey’s back, his hand slowly rubbing up and down Jey’s spine. His other hand was resting on Jey’s thigh, thumb brushing absentmindedly over his skin. When Jimmy heard you come in, he glanced up, his expression soft.
Jey didn’t even lift his head. He just made a small, content sound when he realized you were back, but he stayed right where he was, melted against Jimmy’s side like that was exactly where he needed to be.
You walked over to the bed and set the shorts down for a second, reaching out to gently brush your fingers through Jey’s messy curls.
“Hey, baby,” you murmured. “I got your shorts.”
Jey made another soft sound and finally lifted his head just enough to look at you. His eyes were still a little heavy, but he gave you a tiny, tired small. Jimmy helped him sit up a little more so you could carefully help him into his clothes.
Once they were on, Jey immediately slumped right back into Jimmy’s side like he had no plans of going anywhere else. Jimmy didn’t seem to mind. He just wrapped his arm around Jey a little tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
You climbed back onto the bed on Jey’s other side and settled in close, resting your hand on his thigh. Jey reached for it without looking and laced your fingers together, giving your hand a small squeeze.
Jimmy glanced over at you, his voice low and quiet.
“He ain’t really wanna let go when I came back,” he said softly, a little amused but mostly fond. His hand kept moving slowly up and down Jey’s back. “Think he was scared I was gonna leave again.”
Jey made a quiet, embarrassed sound against Jimmy’s shoulder but he didn’t deny it. He just pressed in closer, trying to get as much contact with both of you as possible. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Jey’s temple, gently rubbing his thigh.
“We’re not going anywhere,” you murmured. “You’ve got us. Both of us.”
Jey let out a small, content sigh and relaxed even more between the two of you, his body finally fully giving out now. He looked peaceful in a way he hadn’t in days. Not just physically relaxed, but something deeper.
Jey felt claimed.
Not just fucked or used, but wanted. Fully and completely. Like everything he’d been aching for– to belong to both of you, to be seen and kept and loved in every way– had finally clicked into place.
Jimmy’s hand kept brushing slowly along Jey’s back, while your thumb stroked gentle circles over the back of his hand. The room was quiet, warm, and still. For the first time since everything had started to unravel between them, it felt like the three of you were finally steady again.
Jey pressed in a little closer between you both, having no intention of moving anytime soon. Jimmy looked over at you again. He didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes said enough. You gave him a small smile in return and leaned in to press one last kiss to Jey’s temple.
Jey let out one final, sleepy little sigh, his body melting further as sleep finally pulled him under.
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