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One more birthday gift for my brilliant friend and beta buddy @cow-in-the-sunset!!!
Inspired by Chapter 7: The First Date of her incredible Everlark Dating Show!AU called One For the Money, Two for the Show! It is easily one of my favorite in-progress fics by far! Do something nice for yourself today and go read it right now!!
Happy Birthday Cow! I hope your day is as wonderful and lovely as you are! 💖💐🐮
One For The Money->Chapter 18: Part Two
Zayne x Non MC x Caleb
Tag List:
@noxus123, @glitterykingdomangel, @sleepykittyenergy, @sylvieisoffline
Vibe:
Hit The Wall by Gracie Abrams
TW:
self-depreciation, smut, fake dating trope, emotional manipulation, HEA, named MC and OC to help the flow and characterization, smoking, cigarettes, substance abuse, alcohol consumption, alcohol abuse, neglect, domestic violence, blood and violence, implied torture, mental torture, MDNI
Summary:
It was a mistake. Taking that deal was a dangerous mistake. But it was the perfect way to make Zayne finally notice me in all the ways that mattered most. I just didn't think I would be pulled into Caleb's gravity at the same time.
Word Count: 3342
Ongoing || Finished
18.5->17->16->15->14->13->12->11->10->9->8->7->6->5->4->3->2->Start
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
His arms encircle my waist. Pulls me closer and holds me there. But something in him pauses. Makes him pull away as we float there in the water. I can't tell if the roar in my ears is my own blood or the waterfall nearby. Not sure if I want to know. Because this is something I've only ever dreamed of since we were kids. Something that wasn't tangible. Yet here we are. Mere inches from one another with his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed with color.
Zayne looks away almost bashfully, "I-I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
Without thinking, I reach for him when he moves to swim away from me. Fingers curling loosely around his wrist and softly tugging him back. His brows furrow with confusion when he looks over his shoulder where my fingers touch his skin. Wrap around his wrist or at least try to. His wrist is big enough—or maybe my fingers are just too small—that my fingers don't full wrap around. Fingertips resting on his pulse point. I can feel how hard his heart beats. How erratic it gets when his eyes travel up my arm to meet mine. My mouth is parted as if I'm trying to speak. But nothing seems adequate enough. Because what was I supposed to say?
But that was all it took.
He pulls his arm just enough that it bring me with it. His arm wrapping around my waist again with his other hand cradling my face. His touch is so tender. So pure it's like I'm some foreign deity he isn't privy to touch. Let alone gaze upon. But I am the furthest thing from holy. Have never been anything remotely close. Yet the way he holds me to him, the way his mouth moves against mine, it makes me question it for just a moment.
"What about Caleb?" He murmurs against my mouth.
My fingers thread through his hair. "What about him?"
"You're in a relationship aren't you?"
For a second, I'm brought back to reality. Zayne and everyone else think that Caleb and I are dating. And here I am with my mouth pressed against Zayne's like if we separated I would forget how to breathe. For just one blissful moment, I forgot all about my little deal with one of the Farspace Fleet's colonels. Because that's what this was all for isn't it? To make the Fleet think that Caleb had a life outside the Fleet itself. Make him look more credible. More human and less like a robot they programmed themselves. At least that was part of the deal on my end. Caleb's job was to make Zayne jealous. But this isn't quite jealousy and it isn't quite guilt. This is something primal and needy. And I don't know how to respond to his question without telling him the truth. Which I don't think either of us are ready for.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He isn't thinking correctly. Or at all, truthfully. Not for lack of trying. Because he really is trying to do the right thing and think this through. Although, he has to admit that kissing her in the first place was more for his own selfish curiosity than anything else. Just a momentary lapse in judgment. Nothing more. But how can he possibly think right when she clings to him in the water like he's a lifeline. When she tastes just as sweet and dangerous as he imagined she would. He'd be lying if he said he hasn't thought about this since they were teenagers. Because he absolutely has. Zayne had questioned if his protectiveness of Iris stemmed from sharing a childhood or if it was something else entirely. Could it be from knowing Caleb the way he does and knowing that his innate need to hide things from people will only serve to hurt her in the end. Because at the heart of the matter, she had moved away for several years.
Zayne doesn't know her the way he should. Questions why that is and why it took her moving back to Linkon for him to truly know her the way he should have all along. Why it took for their late night ice cream visits or until she ran to him for safety only for him to arrive too late for him to know the depth of her. How far her internal scars ran and how deep they cut. He could write it off as being too busy. Too employee as McKenna would say. But that would be too easy of an out and he owes her more than that.
In the months that followed, he learned much of her inner workings. The way her mind worked and how she feels things too deeply. So deeply that it's often too much for even Iris to handle. She's a candle that never quite burns out. An asteroid that's stuck earth with such a force it's shattered everything he knows or understands. She is fireworks in a world full of sparklers and he will never forgive himself for not seeing it sooner.
Ultimately, he had resolved himself to be content to of known her. While he had thought of reaching out, of trying to mend the gap through whatever means, he never did. Of course, he'd asked after her. Working along side the Fleet every now and then he would see Cash and ask how his sister was. Where she was. If he'd spoken to her as of late. And his answers were always the same—short, sweet and to the point. Careful to never divulge too much information other than that of which he asked. So that was where Zayne had left it.
So, he convinces himself that he's doing her a favor.
Saving her from a life of danger and secrecy with Caleb like she wouldn't be met with the same thing in a life with him instead. Like he didn't offer largely the same thing Caleb does. As if he doesn't push away those he loves in the lie that he's doing them a service by doing so. Zayne knows her know. He knows how much she loathes secrecy and lies. But convinces himself it was worth it—that he's different than Caleb in retrospect—if it meant giving her the kind of love she deserved from the start.
The logical part of his brain knows that this is crossing a dangerous line. One he never should have in the first place. He should put a stop to this before it leads to something neither of them could turn back from. After all, she was in a relationship with Caleb. He had kissed a taken woman for his own selfish desire if only to know what it was like. He'd acknowledged their relationship even after. But she returned the kiss with so much intensity it leaves him with no other choice but to give in and the sound of a rushing waterfall gives him an idea he should let alone.
But he doesn't.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It happens in a blur. So quickly it's like there was little time left to be had. Like he couldn't wait to get his hands on me. It makes my head spin. In a matter of seconds—a rush—he's pulling me under a waterfall. Murmuring for me to hold my breath as we vanish behind the water. There's no time to take in my surroundings. To marvel at the sheer beauty of the area we found ourselves in. To make sure that Caleb hadn't come looking for us or that we really had been pushed so far from where we were that we were out of eyesight. There is only the weight of his hands and the softness of his skin.
One hand runs down my side to rest on my waist while the other palms my breast. It occurs to me that I can feel the warmth of his hand perfectly. "It would appear that the force of the water pu—"
A quick glance down proves that my swim top had not only been pushed up to expose my breast, but untied as a whole. Saves me the energy of being completely mortified when his mouth quirks up in a smirk. His fingertips glide over my shoulders to pluck the string that ties behind my neck until it unravels. Zayne tosses it aside without so much as a glance as to where it lands.
His touch is soft. Feather light and hardly even there. If his tongue wasn't tasting every inch of my mouth I would have thought I was imaging it. He tastes of mint mouthwash. But the taste swiftly leaves me when his mouth travels down my neck to pepper my skin with sharp nips of his teeth. This is a far cry from the reserved doctor I have come to know. Never known Zayne to be reckless or anything but calm and collected. But there's heat and passion in the way the pad of his thumb brushes my already peaked nipple. It's in the way his palm cups the underside of my breast with such a gentleness it's just shy of reverent. There's a vast difference in the kind of worship Zayne provides versus Caleb. It's the kind of worship one offers to their god or some kind of divine being. Neither or which I am. Because I have done nothing but sin my entire life. But he touches me like I'm something worthy of devotion and praise.
Until it leaves me all together.
Left with my face heating with embarrassment and something entirely too close to rage. When I bend to retrieve my top from the ground, my breathing is too shallow with barely contained rage. He takes a step away from me and when I look up—he's already walking towards the waterfall to leave me with my rage and the unbearable pounding of my heart.
"Are you fucking kidding me, Li?" My voice rings through the small enclave we're in.
Zayne freezes at the water cascading down in front of him. Head bowed like he's ashamed of himself and shoulders too tense for a moment that was once filled with heat. He turns his head to look at me over his shoulder and his hand rises to freeze the waterfall with his Evol. Had I not been so angry with him I would have commented on how breathtaking it looks frozen in motion. But I am too angry to say much of anything. Too furious to let him know he made a work of art like he used to when we were kids.
Tears well in my eyes and my chest heaves. "You don't get to just walk away. You can't just kiss me like that and walk away like you didn't fucking mean it. That's not fair, Zayne."
"I've misstepped," his voice breaks, "I shouldn't have done that."
"This isn't fair, Zayne."
"I know it's not. It isn't fair to you or to Caleb and for that I'm sorry. You're in a relationship and I crossed a line I shouldn't have."
Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. He would not see me cry—not today. Instead, the distance he put between us is crossed in a few quick steps as I clutch my swim top to my chest. Using my other hand, I grab his shoulder and spin him to face me before shoving him back into the frozen waterfall. His back hits with a dull thud and my eyes narrow at him with all the hurt and confusion he just made me feel when he walked away.
"You're upset." An observation, not a question.
"Brilliant observation, Doctor Li. Do you want an award for that revelation?"
He winces at my tone. It's harsh and biting and unfair. None of that matters right now. Not when everything in me is screaming. Fury burns through me when he turns to examine the frozen wall he created. The truth is on the tip of my tongue and I swallow it.
"What would you have me do, Iris?"
"Let's start with being honest with yourself, maybe? You can't run away and hide every time you do something you might regret, Zayne. It's not fair to anyone. Least of all to yourself. Walking away from it solves nothing."
When he finally turns to look at me again—there's pain in his eyes.
"I can't ask this of you."
"Bullshit," the laugh that comes with it is bitter, "You kissed me, Zayne. It happened. It's time you face yourself and get over it."
"Face myself? What good could come of this? You're in a relationship and it would be incredibly cruel of me to—"
The moment the words come from me— know I might regret it.
"I'm in fucking love with you, Zayne! I've been in love with you since we were kids!"
His eyes widen before his brows furrow with confusion. "What? But what about—"
"I'm not actually dating Caleb! It a deal we made, okay? It's fake. All of it is fake so that the Fleet thinks he has a life outside of them. We're not in a real relationship."
He closes the distance in an instant. Barely giving me time to breathe when he kisses me again and the intensity of it knocks the air from my lungs. Careful hands now cradle my face. A soft sound leaves him when my fingers grab at the waistband of his swim trunks. Something between a sigh and a moan. The sound replays in my head over and over on a never ending loop. The once careful and controlled surgeon unraveling at my fingertips.
Our kiss borders between frantic and reverence. Shaking hands reach for the swim top still clutched in my hand. Zayne pulls it from my grip, once again tossing it somewhere to the ground at our feet. It hits the rocks we stand on with a soft fluttering sound. His hands shake with small tremors as they trace down from my face to my shoulders until they reach my back. Sparks of ice lick up my spine. Leaving his fingertips involuntarily as they trace the curve of my spine like he was mapping the way it bends. It's worship and wonder at once. He's holding back, I can feel it in the way he holds me to him. Tender and almost scared.
This is it.
It dawns on me then that this is the moment I've always wanted since we were young. I'm not sure what emboldens me, but my teeth nip at his bottom lips without breaking the kiss. Something snaps in him at the contact. Turning the kiss from something he wants to savor into raw heat and want. I taste it on his tongue when it enters my mouth to run along mine. Feel it in the way he tugs at the waistband of my bottoms. Zayne is a string pulled too taut until it frays and breaks. His mouth finally parts from mine, chest heaving with the need to breathe. His hand leaves my back to press his palm to my breast while the other tugs my bottoms down my hips. Finally, they give and fall down my legs to pool at my ankles.
"You're heart is beating irregularly," his voice is soft, labored with the effort of his breathing.
Suddenly, I'm reminded of the day I went to question him in his office. How he had half frozen the door shut and cornered me to make the same observation. How close our faces had been that day and the way he looked at me. Like I was something he wanted to devour and swallow whole. Had he wanted to kiss me then? Was that what that tension was?
It doesn't matter.
"That tends to happen when someone is excited," I counter.
The smirk that lifts the corner of his mouth is sinful. It makes my stomach do a stupid, traitorous flip. His thumb rubs achingly slow over my nipple. Like he was testing how it felt under the pad of his thumb or seeing how my body reacts. A test to see if I really meant everything I had just said. Repeating the process twice before letting his ice flickers over bare skin. A shiver ripples through me, but not from the cold of his ice. From the fact this is real. That everything I wanted from the time I knew the meaning of the word 'love' was finally in the palm of my hand. This isn't some kind of sick dream I would wake up from alone and aching in the worst of ways.
The way he looks at me is like he discovered god. His touch the closest to worship I have ever been. He kisses me again with a renewed hungry sort of reverence. A mix I didn't know existed until now. Slowly, he lowers me to the ground. His bare foot scatters the small rocks that cover the area out of the way before my back presses into the cool stone beneath us. Back bowing into him and far too eager to feel every part of him that I had only dreamed of until now. But his hands still my movement, spreading my thighs as his emerald eyes drop to where I'm already glistening with want and need. Zayne inhales a sharp breath, taking his time to run a single fingertip along my center. Quickly coating it with my slick as a devastating moan leaves my throat. The corner of his lips curls into a smirk again.
Devilish and devastating.
"Zayne," my voice shakes when I speak, "please."
He gives a short shake of his head before dropping to his knees. His hands run along the back of my thighs to my hips and pulls me to him. His legs shift from under him before he lays flat on him stomach. Lips brush the sensitive skin of my inner thigh in a ghost of a kiss. My legs shake and there's a near unbearable ache between my legs as my clit begins to pulse with the need for some kind of release.
"Good things come to those who wait," he hums against my skin.
"I hate you," I whine, "This is torture."
The wicked curve of his mouth widens into a smirk against my skin. "Really? I could have sworn just a few minutes ago you said you love me."
A husky laugh leaves him when I try to lift my leg to kick him. His hand comes up to halt my movement before my foot ever leaves the ground. Did he know me so well now that he can predict what I'm about to do? It doesn't matter. Because in the next few seconds his tongue is running along my inner thigh until it moves over. The heat of his mouth on me is searing and the most intoxicating thing I have ever had the pleasure to feel. My eyes roll back as I bring a hand to my mouth to stifle a loud, embarrassing moan. Zayne is quick to grab my wrist, bringing my hand away from my mouth. Then he inserts one long finger into my cunt and my back arches when it curls and begins to pump inside me.
"Don't cover your mouth," he instructs as if giving a medical lecture, "I want to hear every sound you make when I touch you."
What can I do but nod in agreement?
"Eyes on me. Understand, sweet girl?"
Zayne flattens his tongue before running a long strip up my center. His tongue spreads me open with no help from his hands that still hold me still. As much as I want to writhe at his touch, all I can do is obey what he said to do. Watch him as his brilliant emerald eyes flash up from between my legs and his tongue makes me sing for him.
I LOVE STATS, so I am making a thread to keep track of my AO3 stats:
One For The Money, Two For The Show - Chapter 1
Okayyy bear with me, this for our OFTM! What about a celeb who meets actress!reader at some awards or something or they’ve worked together and the pictures turn out so gorgeous and he uploads it with some cheesy lovey dovey caption and it kinda sets Joel off with jealousy and a bigggg green eyed monster. It doesn’t help that Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah start pulling his leg in their fam group chat saying oh wow look at mom with him or something and y’know tommy would pull his leg more to get a reaction out of Joel. And Joel is just alternating between fighting for his life in the chat and fighting for his wife with actress!reader and just comedy and fluffiness????
(also I have one more inspo that I dreamt of sending you in the next one)
OOOOOHHHH LOVE THIS I haven’t played around with jealous joel in SUCH A LONG TIME also I know you weren’t necessary referring them but I immediately thought of Jessica Chastain and Oscar Isaac because I MEAN
ANYWAYS HERE WE GO
Wildflower & Barley
Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader
Summary: this ask
Warnings: ✨multi-media✨, jealousy, life stuff, literally just them being the sweetest couple
You sigh as you read the text. Joel is normally very comfortable in your relationship, unshaken by the various actors and actresses who’ve played your love interests and partners on screen. He shrugs off silly press comments, sits through love scenes remarkably well, and even goes as far as congratulating your costar on a job well done. “Not that it’s hard to pretend to be in love with her,” he said when asked about it in a red carpet interview a few years ago. But, once in a blue moon, he gets jealous and a little insecure. You figure Spencer’s post didn’t help with the little green monster sitting on his shoulder the past few months.
With all your littles in school now, you’re extremely busy. You’re constantly running around from baseball practices, PTA meetings, recitals, doctor’s appointments, birthday parties, and more. Not to mention making time for all the Miller-Hernandez-Caradonna-Pierce grandkids, Isaac, Cecilia, and JJ. Joel’s working on a new album and getting his record label up and running while you’re not only directing and co-producing a smaller film while acting in a different one and getting ready to go on a (limited) press tour. You and Joel haven’t had the most time to catch up, and it feels like you’re passing ships. It’s temporary. You know it is, but it doesn’t feel good to see your costars more than you get to see your husband. You’re almost positive Joel’s jealousy stems from that.
“Hey, you ready to get back to it?” Your co-producer, Ava, asks, jolting you out of your thoughts, and you nod.
“Let’s do it.” You say as you tuck your phone into your back pocket. The day goes relatively smoothly with only one broken prop and an impromptu refresher session with one of your actors and the armorer. You make it a point to end the day early so you can get home and talk to Joel before one of you can fall asleep on the couch (a bad habit you’ve both developed recently), and thank god you did.
The second you open the door, you can smell the delicious dinner Joel is making in the kitchen and hear the music he’s blasting through the Alexa. “Mom!” Sammy yells as he and the girls run over in a flurry of overlapping stories and demands for hugs and kisses. Even though Sam is nine now and on the cusp of thinking he’s too cool for his parents, he’s still your little love bug.
“Mommy, will you come draw with me?” Violet asks and you smile as you tuck a curl behind her ear.
“Of course, baby. Can I go say hi to Daddy first?”
“Fine but hurry!” Violet whines, making you laugh. You hang up your purse by the front door and toe off your shoes, already feeling better with your heels off, and pad into the kitchen. Joel is wearing the apron you got him for Christmas last year that says “Caution: Hot Dad” and made the older girls groan in embarrassment. You laugh when you see it on him, and he quickly turns down the Bee Gees to hear you.
“You’re home early.” He says as he leans down to peck your lips and wrap an arm around your waist. You chase his lips and kiss him again before pulling away to look at him.
“Wanted to catch you before bedtime,” you say, and he hums. “Plus, we’re making good time on production. We can afford to cut a little early.”
“Well, I‘m glad you did.” He says. You can hear the kids in the other room playing loudly and you know Violet is gonna burst in any moment and order you to draw with her so you savor the semi-private moment with him.
“Are we okay?” You ask quietly and he takes a deep breath.
“We’re okay.”
“It’s okay if we’re not.”
“Baby,” he soothes, slipping a hand in your back pocket. “We’re okay, I promise. I just… had a moment.”
“It’s fine to have a moment. I don’t want you to keep that from me just because we’re busy,” you say. “You don’t actually think I’d trade you in for someone else or whatever the fuck Tommy said, right?” He sighs and you raise your eyebrows at him.
“Just… please tell me this isn’t like a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing.” He says. You would laugh if he didn’t seem as upset as he does just because of how bizarre the idea is. How could anyone ever compare to him? How could he even think that you’d leave him like that?
“This isn’t a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing. Not even close to it. Spencer has been married to his wife longer than we’ve been married and they’re solid. I promise, he just posted that to get people excited about the movie.”
“You’re not wearing your ring in the picture.” He says. You pull the chain hiding under your collar out and show him.
“I was. You just couldn’t see it.”
“How long have you had that?”
“Since we got engaged. You’ve definitely seen it before.” You say, laughing a little at the surprised look on his face.
“Yeah, but I didn’t know that’s why you wore it. I thought you got it as a wrap gift or somethin’.” He defends. It makes sense why he wouldn’t know. You only take the necklace off when it can’t be hidden under the costume, and even then, it’s normally tucked into your pocket or, at the very least, hidden safely in your trailer. It’s a part of your routine to put your ring back on at the end of a shooting day or between breaks to help you transition back into your real life, which means Joel only sees it after it’s returned to its rightful spot. Even the few times he’s been on set filming something with you, you’ve been so busy that he didn’t have time to notice it.
“Good to know I can still surprise you all these years later,” you say. He only looks a little embarrassed when he reaches around you to turn off the stove. The kids are, thankfully, still occupied, and you take the opportunity before it can slip away. “Joel, I adore you. I am still as helplessly in love with you as I was when we were in New York for the first time. There isn’t anybody else for me, okay? It’s you. It’s always gonna be you. So you don’t need to worry about costars or living Brangelina or whatever because you are it for me.” He works at his jaw as he processes your words, and you wait. Joel’s mind has always been an elusive one, so you like watching his gears turn.
“Okay,” he mumbles finally. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. You just have to tell me when you’re feeling this way,” you say, kissing his jaw. “Besides, if you’d said something earlier, I would’ve been able to tell you that you’re a much better kisser than Spencer.”
“I was just gettin’ over the post, and now I have to watch y’all kiss?!” He groans dramatically, and you laugh.
“You’re the one who married an actor.”
“And I’d do it again.” He says as he kisses you, crowding your space so you’re stuck between him and the counter. It’s broken between giggles and kitchen timers beeping but it isn’t until Violet tugs at your shirt do you fully break away from Joel.
“Mommy, you said you would come draw with me.” She pouts, and you immediately drop down to her level.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I did say that. Daddy just had a hard day so I was trying to cheer him up. I can come draw with you now.” You explain, and she gasps, looking between you and Joel.
“Daddy!” She exclaims, putting her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having a bad day?”
“Because it’s not your job to fix Daddy’s day.”
“But I want to! Can I give you a kiss?”
“I wanna give Daddy a kiss!” Sophia runs in, launching herself into Joel’s arms. He scoops both girls up and kiss his cheeks simultaneously, making you both laugh.
“Thank you, girls. You always make me feel better.” He says, and they giggle.
“What about Mom?” Sam asks. He’s too big and too tall for you to pick him up anymore, but he snuggles perfectly under your arm and squeezes you tight.
“You’re so sweet, honey. Thank you.” You say, kissing his head.
“Are you better now?”
“So much better.”
“Daddy, are you better?” Violet asks. Joel meets your eyes over the heads of the kids and smiles. It’s sweet and just for you, and you can’t help but smile back.
“I’m perfect.”
Carlos “I went to juvie for grand theft auto” Manoso is no snitch. I love how proud she is of herself and how proud he is of her.
One For The Money
Zayne x Non MC x Caleb
TW: self-depreciation, smut, fake dating trope, emotional manipulation, HEA, named MC/OC to help the flow and characterization, smoking, cigarettes, substance abuse, alcohol consumption, alcohol abuse, neglect
Summary:
You want her, I want him and he wants her too. Why don't we try to make them jealous? See if we can't get them to see what they're missing."
Word Count: 2080
Ongoing (unspecified amount of chapters)
One For The Money - bhaalistbabe - 恋与深空 | Love and Deepspace (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]
Moving back home meant many things. Establishing clientele, getting new furniture into a new apartment, talking to my mother again, but none of those things truly mattered. Not at the heart of it at least. Growing up in Linkon with one of the only broken families around meant gossip. And plenty of it. All of it surrounding me and my brother. It meant knowing nearly everyone within a fifteen-mile radius and I couldn’t have been happier when I finally left it all behind. Moving away was refreshing. It broadened my horizons and opened doors I never knew existed until I left. But it also meant cutting off everyone I ever knew. My mother was a given. To say our relationship was strained was putting it lightly when it was closer to estranged. Keeping contact with my brother was easy. He was the only person in my life to ever truly give a damn about me. Childhood friendships unraveled easier than I thought they would. Growing up was hard enough being the odd man out. Harder when you have a family history that could shock the entire city.
Most of my family's history was under lock and key. Known only by those closest to Cash and I. Those we deemed trustworthy enough to know. For him that meant his entire system of friends that would be joining him at the DAA in Skyhaven. For me, it meant the three friends I had made through our parents’ best friends.
But I was back now, as unfortunate as it be, and in need of something to ground me. I just didn’t expect it to come in the form of a former childhood friend standing behind me in line to get coffee.
“Iris!” A barista with wild, curly hair called from behind the counter, “Iris, your iced caramel macchiato!”
Giving a tight smile, I reach to grab my cup. Mouthing a polite thank you before turning to see a rather stoic-looking man with well-kept black hair, arms folded over his chest. His head tilted slightly, curiosity dancing in his green eyes. There’s a moment of recognition before he speaks.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but did she just say your name was Iris?”
I lean back, take a sip of my coffee, and nod. “Uh, yeah, that would be me. Why?”
“It’s Zayne. From the house next door? Didn’t think I’d ever seen you back here.”
My eyes widen momentarily, what could only be described as shock plastered across my face. Guess he hasn’t met a lot of people with the same name since I’ve been gone.
“Well, that’s because I never intended on coming back.”
“Zayne! Your black green tea!”
Our eyes flash to the counter behind me. Zayne pushes passed me, takes his order, and thanks the same barista before lifting his wrist to his eyes. An expensive silver watch glints in the fluorescent lights. He must be making a nice living to be able to afford something like that.
“I have to get back to work.”
Then he walks towards the door, leaving me no time to suggest we catch up sometime. It was for the best, in all honesty. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to see him again. Too scared that it would reopen old wounds that had long since healed. Because that’s what I was good at; running from my problems and avoidance.
The walk to my apartment building was silent. Save for the occasional phone calls from my brother here and there. All of them relating to our mother and how I needed to help him figure out how to get her into rehab. But my answer was always a firm no. Washing my hands of my life here in Linkon was the best decision I had ever made for myself and I would be damned if I went back on that now. Talking to my mother as little as I did was something I could manage. Keeping her at a distance while still being able to make sure she hadn't drank herself to death. Not that I cared. Why would I possibly care for the woman who got rid of me the second she wanted to drink and consistently compared me to a childhood friend. I had no interest in someone who only served to lower my self-worth and deem me an inconvenience. Besides, I was doing better since keeping myself at a safe distance.
______________________________________________________
Why my apartment building was so bright I would never understand. It was near blinding and I had to keep my head down when I walked up the stairs and tried to manuever the keypad. I thought I had it until---
“Iris? Oh my god, is that you?”
I hadn’t even made it to my apartment door when my name was called again. Still, I turn, still trying to get my code to work. There’s a woman standing adjacent to me, hands clasped over her mouth as if to stifle something. She’s wearing a Hunter’s uniform and the man next to her appears as though he just woke up from what I can only assume is a well-needed nap. By all respect, they were both stunning. A gorgeous couple, really. Her, with long, mocha-colored hair that reaches her waist and big, bright eyes. Complete with the long lashes to match. She’s a good several inches shorter than he is. Dusty gray hair falling into a pair of the most beautiful ocean-blue eyes I had ever seen. Wearing a cream-colored sweater and comfortable fit, light wash jeans.
“Do I know you?” My voice comes out a little harsher than I meant, and I slam the heel of my palm against the number pad on the side of my door. “Why won’t this stupid thing work!”
“Here, let me try!” She’s excited as she steps forward, her index finger poised to start tapping the numbers in, “What’s your code?”
It was fine if she knew the code for now. I was going to change it once I got inside anyway. So, I hand her the crumpled piece of paper from my pocket. The numbers wrinkled in faded black ink almost make me laugh. But then she taps the numbers and the door clicks open with a soft beep. I would thank her if I had the energy. For someone working with an absurd amount of people, one would think I had the temperament of an extrovert. Years of being on my own had successfully beaten that out of me, however. And I liked it that way.
“You really don’t remember me?” She sounds almost sad, like I had just ran over her beloved pet or something akin to that. Full lips jutting out in a sort of pout.
The man with gorgeous blue eyes steps next to her, pulling on her arm awkwardly. “C’mon MC, she just moved in. Don’t make freak her out.”
Of course.
Couldn’t go one day without my past coming back to haunt me. Thinking otherwise was stupid. McKenna, Caleb, Zayne, and I had all been close growing up. While I was closer to Zayne, since I had lived right next door, I spent a lot of time with the other two. When my dad moved out and out of the city, my mother often dumped me on Josephine when she couldn’t handle me. One of the many reasons I grew up to be what I am today. Who I am today.
“But I know her!” Her temperamental protests were enough and Ocean Eyes slumped his shoulders with a sigh.
“Still haven’t outgrown temper tantrums, I see.”
“You do remember! Oh, I have to tell Caleb you’re back!”
Mckenna pulls out her phone, fingers typing furiously, only to be pulled away by the arm. Ocean Eyes mumbles something under his breath, dragging her into the apartment down the hallway. The door slamming shut behind them.
I push open my door, kicking off my boots in the process, and breathe. Something akin to a sigh leaves me and for the first time since going to the cafe, I feel the tension leave with the air that leaves my lungs. It wasn’t that I wasn’t happy to see her after nine years. She was just…exhausting now. I wasn’t the same person I was at eight years old. Hell, I wasn’t even the same person I was when I left at sixteen. Years of being isolated from everything familiar does that to a person. Makes them cold and harsh. Brings out the worst in them and finetunes jagged edges that they used to be able to ignore.
It was easier that way. Processing everything that went wrong in my life was easier when I didn’t have anyone around me to halt the process. I wasn’t a lovesick teenager anymore. Just a damaged adult with family issues that never seemed to end.
My feet drag along the hardwood of the floor. My movements are sluggish and unmotivated. I was completely drained. At least my old couch offered a sense of comfort from my old, peaceful existence outside of Linkon. Absently, I take in the decor I had managed to put up. An old fairy collection Zayne had gotten me as a parting gift sits, neatly aligned on a bookshelf. Which was subsequently filled with every book I could get my hands on. A large plasma screen TV mounted above the fireplace in front of the couch. And on either side of that was lined with every horror movie known to man. Paint cans of midnight blue sat next to the front door. Ready for whenever I decided to paint the inside. Something to give me a sense of what had become normal. Paintings of sirens lined each, and every wall from some famous local painter.
I had only just pulled a fluffy, black blanket over me in an attempt to sleep when my phone vibrated on the coffee table. Loud and relentless on the glass surface. Taunting me. Groaning as obnoxiously as I possibly could, I fling an arm over and grab it. I don’t need check the caller ID to know who it was. There was only one person who had this number and had the audacity to call me when I had just moved in.
“What’d you want Cash?” I don’t bother trying to mask the irritation in my voice as I sit up on the couch. Massaging my temple with my fingertips.
“Well hello to you too, baby sister.”
“If this is about mom again, you already know my answer.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not. Celebratory drinks? My treat.” He sounded just a little too excited at the prospect and there was a mess of muffled voices in the background. Along with loud, booming music.
“There’s nothing to celebrate.”
“Sure there is! Like my baby sister coming back home!” His words slur. My brother was already drinking. Already well on his way to be as plastered as our mother likely was.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope! I’ll send you the location. See you soon!”
The line goes dead and I rise to my feet. Head falling back in defeat. There was never any winning anything when it came to my brother. So, realistically, I should have known I wasn’t going to have a choice in the matter. If I was going to a club, which I soon learned I was when his location flashed across or messages, then I needed to change. My clothes needed to be washed anyway since I had ink splotches on my sleeves from carrying in my supplies to the new shop.
Rummaging through several boxes left my arms feeling like dead weight. Like I had carried something well over my body weight. Each movement made them ache and throb. And after enduring an hour of straining of my muscles, I settled on a pair of fishnets and a black sweater-dress. It was formfitting enough for social outings but comfortable enough without being restricting. Slipping back on my boots, I decided that I was presentable enough and began the fifteen-minute walk to whatever club my brother had found himself in.
______________________________________________________
It was far too crowded and far too loud. Flashing lights blinded me as soon as I stepped foot inside. My eyes flutter to fight against the brightness and I attempt to push through a sea of people just to try and get to a vantage point where I can scan the room. Looking for Cash was never a problem no matter where we were. He was, undoubtedly, the loudest person in any room he was in. He was tall enough that he could spot me in a crowd and built like a brick wall. These days at least. Something that training in the DAA had granted him. Which was exactly why when I finally do spot him, he’s surrounded by a gaggle of women in clothes that shouldn’t be called clothes at all. As well as several men in the same uniform he wore. But I can’t place what the uniform is for. It’s unfamiliar to me.
“Iris!” His loud, boisterous voice would have echoed through the space if it weren’t for the music, “Over here! I already got you a drink!”
Sweaty bodies collide into me as I try to shove my way through the crowd. Using my elbows to shove and push and jab until there’s a space big enough for me to make a beeline for him. But apparently, I wasn’t paying close enough attention to where I was going. My face hits what feels like a solid wall and I’m prepared to shout a heated ‘move’ at whoever I had just ran into. Until they turn around and I’m met with a pair of familiar amethyst eyes.
One For The Money
Zayne x Non MC x Caleb
Tag List:
@noxus123
TW:
self-depreciation, smut, fake dating trope, emotional manipulation, HEA, named MC and OC to help the flow and characterization, smoking, cigarettes, substance abuse, alcohol consumption, alcohol abuse, neglect, MDNI
Summary:
It was a mistake. Taking that deal was a dangerous mistake. But it was the perfect way to make Zayne finally notice me in all the ways that mattered most. I just didn't think I would be pulled into Caleb's gravity at the same time.
Word Count: 2304
Finished || Ongoing
Chapter One->Chapter Two->Chapter Three->Chapter Four
Chapter Five->Chapter Six->Chapter Seven->Chapter Eight
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Worship is what he called it.
But the way his mouth travels down my neck to my chest and down my stomach feels more like sin.
Every inch of skin that he touches feels like a wildfire is born from the contact. Leaving my back arching off the floor and my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Feather light and reverent.
Goosebumps rise as his fingertips dig into my thighs . His head dips between my legs. Leaving only his eyes to be seen as I peer down at him.
Then I feel him.
His tongue lapping between flesh and tasting every inch of me as it fans out. Caleb lets out an appreciative hum, and it vibrates through my center into my bones. His eyes close. I feel his tongue slide along my center. Hear the delicious sounds he makes with each lick of his tongue. My head falls back, and eyes flutter shut. There's a coil in my core that tightens every time he flicks his tongue against my clit. Growing tighter and tighter until I have to bite my tongue from moaning the wrong name.
Because we both know what this is.
We both know that we're not thinking of each other.
He's imagining it's McKenna he's tasting.
And I'm imagining it's Zayne between my legs.
"Look at me." His voice breaks through my conscientiousness, coaxing my eyes to open and head to raise.
His face lifts from its place between my legs. Chin dripping with my essence. And there's a painful surge of jealousy that rips through me. Because it's not me that he thinks he's licking off his chin.
But I'm just as guilty.
Emerald eyes flash to violet.
"Let go." His voice was pleading, desperate.
His head dips back down—to where it belongs—and his tongue hits my senses again.
My release hits me hard and fast.
Zayne Caleb grips my hips, yanking my core so close to him it's as if he's trying to devour my soul from me. Hungry growls of pleasure hum through my skin. None of them my own. They were his. And he's feasting on my release. His mouth wide open, and inhaling all of my pleasure like a man starved. My hand shoots forward, fingers gripping his hair as my back arches.
"Sing for me. I want to hear you."
It wasn't a request.
A demand.
And I obey.
Screaming through the waves of my climax like a siren calling her sailors to their watery grave. His name echoes from my lungs. My nails scrape against his scalp. I sing for him. Do as I'm told. Because it's so much easier to listen and obey than it was listen to my inner thoughts. Reminding myself that this isn't Zayne so I don't scream the wrong name. So eager to please. Eager to beg for a drop of the love I never received as a kid or an adult. And his next words were sweeter than any half-hearted 'I love you' I've ever heard.
"Good girl. Such a good girl for me."
I feel the absence of his mouth like a loss. The heat of his breath leaving me to feel cold. The lack of his tongue leaving me to feel empty. But not for long, because moments later his mouth peppers my skin from my hips to my collarbones with kisses between the bites. Barely feeling the sting of his teeth marking me. Barely registering the sensation from the tip of his cock brushing against my entrance.
Caleb positions his hands on either side of me. My chest heaves from the force of my orgasm. I've hardly recovered when I feel his breath against my ear.
"You ready?" His voice is a ghost trickling through the fog of my high.
"Y-Yeah, I'm ready."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His skin is sticky from sweat. Brain in a heavy fog from the taste of her on his tongue. Her release was the sweetest nectar he's ever tasted. An ambrosia he was lucky enough to have been graced with. The moonshine's starting to wear off. Caleb is ashamed to admit he doesn't have the resolve to put a stop to his. He knows this is wrong. Because she isn't her. And he isn't who she truly wants. He knows that.
But god did he want this.
She stares up at him with heavy, half-lidded eyes. Her lips kiss swollen and perfect. Skin covered in the afterglow of her release. Fuck, she looked so god damned good lying under him like this. Blissed out and at his mercy. Like she was a present sent from the heavens just for him. And maybe somewhere in his sick brain Caleb thinks she is. But none of that really matters right now. All that matters is the fact that she was still so soaked it was sinful. And he's so hard it's painful.
He pushes forward.
Taking a moment to pause. Letting her adjust to his size before beginning to pump his hips in a steady rhythm. Driving himself deeper inside her as her walls flutter around his length. Every movement forward has him swearing under his breath. His head drops, pressing his forehead to hers. The moment her nails find purchase on his back, his composure fractures.
Caleb moans.
He can feel her nails breaking skin as he pumps deeper inside her. Feels her breasts push against his chest when her back arches against the floor. A hand slips underneath her. Pressing his palm into the small of her back to keep her held in place. And he growls. A deep, guttural sound from within his chest. Careful not to say a name. Or the wrong one. Careful not to slip too far into a delusion he wasn't sure he was fully submerged into in the first place.
His Evol slips from his grasp. Wrapping around the two of them and pinning her underneath him. Not that he needed the help. Caleb was twice her size and could easily keep her where he wants her with one hand. But he didn't want be that guy. Not when he was already something of a monster.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is wrong.
Should have never happened int he first place. We both knew that. And with the mix of sex and body heat the moonshine is slowly losing its effect. But we're both too far gone to do anything about it. Too caught up in the way it feels when his cock fills me completely. And even then I'm not entirely sure all of it fits inside me and I'm too overwhelmed with pleasure to even begin to check. Not sure if I want to anyways.
We're both too far gone to care. And we both clearly want this—albeit not with each other. But it's better than nothing and all we have. Too painfully aware of the fact that none of this is for each other. It's easy to pretend we're who we wanted. So what if it's gravity pinning me down instead of ice? So what if he keeps begging me to resonate with him only to be met with: "I don't know how."
Because none of this is real.
No breathy moan or reverent sigh between us is for each other. We knew that, right?
So what if every now and then the lines blur a little too well. Who cares if sometimes it's my name instead of hers that slips from his lips. Did it matter if I like the gravity instead?
Both of us chasing a high we know we'll regret in the morning. It feels like a dream. Like the trip on ecstasy I should have had at the first party I went to in high school. When some asshole spiked my drink—and Zayne came to my rescue. Rushing me to urgent care to have my levels checked and system flushed. But when the memory surfaces—it's not a shock of black hair that comes into my vision. And it's not green eyes when I blink.
I push the thought away.
Teeth sink into my shoulder. Sharp. Deep. Enough to tear skin. He moans against me, low and rough, and the sound pulses through me like another high. Fueling something I shouldn’t feel.
I’m overstimulated, too sensitive to be doing this again. Still crashing from the last release, but every slow, deliberate thrust drags me back under. I shouldn’t be able to focus on the way he feels inside me.
But it’s all I can focus on.
Caleb's hips roll into mine. Slow and deep. Like he's trying to memorize the way I feel. Maybe I'm doing the same thing. Every thrust inside me sending shock waves through me until I forget why this shouldn't be happening. Until I rake my nails down his back in angry, red lines like I need to hurt him just to stay grounded. He groans when I do. A low and broken sound stemming from somewhere deep within him. Like he likes the pain.
The burn of the stretch as he fills me is addictive. A sharp kind of pleasure that drags across nerve endings that are still coming to life. Dragging me deeper into whatever the fuck this is. I'm trembling beneath him. Thighs shaking with every movement and thrust. Too sensitive but still chasing the high of the next orgasm as the coil in the pit of my stomach pulls tighter. Desperate for more—more friction, more pleasure, more something to make this into something we both know it isn't.
His cock hits that spot inside me. The one that makes me see stars and my back arch without permission. Caleb presses his palm firmly against the small of my back. Like he was keeping me locked against him. Like if he let go I would realize this is a mistake and run away.
"Fuck," he breathes, burying his face into the crook of my neck, "you feel unreal."
And that's the fucking problem.
That this isn't real.
Not the way it should be.
One hand grips my hip, forceful at first before softening and sliding down my thigh. His touch turning into something full of worship once again. Like he was mapping out every curve of my body with his skin. It pulls a whimper from my throat. So loud it's embarrassing. A little too authentic to call it a lie.
"That's it," he murmurs against my throat, like he owns the sounds that come from me. "Just let me—"
Don't say it.
Whatever he says, I block it out. Unwilling to hear what it is he wants me to do. Because whatever it is—I already know I would do it without hesitation.
I'm close again.
I can tell by the way tension coils tight in my lower abdomen. Pulling so tight it's about to snap. My legs wrap around his waist without meaning to. Pulling him impossibly closer. Pushing him so deep inside me it's hard to tell where I end and he begins. Caleb pulls from me then, nearly all the way, before plunging back inside to the hilt. Burying himself so fully I hate how perfect it feels.
How perfect he feels.
Because it shouldn't be Caleb.
It should be Zayne.
Or at least I wanted it to be.
Our eyes lock. His pupils blown wide and jaw set like he was holding something back. Biting his tongue to keep from calling out her name.
It's only when he gasps out my name instead—like a prayer, like a mistake—that I come to my senses.
But it's too late now.
Because my release crashes through me so intense it's almost painful. My pussy squeezing around his cock so tight it's causes his to follow suit. Caleb shudders with one final low moan as he sinks into me. Our chests pressed against each other and his nose buried in my hair. I feel him drive into me one final time before the heat of his release spills into me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sweat collects along Caleb's face as she drifts off to sleep. A searing pain shooting along every nerve ending so intensely he can't push it away. His pupils dilate and after he carefully lays her—he falls to his knees outside her bedroom. Hands clutching the hardwood floor until his knuckles turn white and tears pool in his eyes.
He can feel it.
Can feel the Toring Chip searing away every memory associated with the feeling of euphoria. Before he had been able to will it away. But this time it had been too intense to shrug off. A euphoria like no other. So strong that the Chip was stronger than his will to remember.
For a moment, his mind is a blur of the night. Running over everything that had happened in the last few hours. From Iris drunkenly falling to the floor and telling him how her mother had made her learn how to make moonshine. Throwing it in some absent direction when she got it wrong. To the seven times his phone vibrated with the tell rhythm of McKenna trying to get a hold of him. And for the first time he had ignored every single one of them. Because Iris was more important tonight. His protective nature overtaking his hatred for her in all the years they've known each other.
At least that's what he told himself.
But when his eyes opened again—his memory was blank.
He couldn't remember why he in nothing but his boxers at her apartment. What they were just doing. What was said moments ago. If anything.
It didn't matter.
That's what he told himself as he installed the tiny surveillance cameras throughout her apartment.
Because this was for her safety wasn't it?
Of course it was.
One For The Money->Chapter 18: Part One
Zayne x Non MC x Caleb
A/N:
I really wanted to do more here with the scenes but action-y scenes are hard for me to write so here we are. My hands and fingers were also beginning to hurt while typing so I decided that this was a nice stopping point. Part two will be posted here in a few days. Hope you guys are ready for what's coming.
Tag List:
@noxus123, @glitterykingdomangel, @sleepykittyenergy, @sylvieisoffline
Vibe:
Toothpick by Sophie Truax
TW:
self-depreciation, smut, fake dating trope, emotional manipulation, HEA, named MC and OC to help the flow and characterization, smoking, cigarettes, substance abuse, alcohol consumption, alcohol abuse, neglect, domestic violence, blood and violence, implied torture, mental torture, MDNI
Summary:
It was a mistake. Taking that deal was a dangerous mistake. But it was the perfect way to make Zayne finally notice me in all the ways that mattered most. I just didn't think I would be pulled into Caleb's gravity at the same time.
Word Count: 3324
Ongoing || Finished
Chapter links will resume shortly.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/64572535/chapters/221624711
It's too hot. Humidity doing nothing for my curls. But there's nothing that can be done about it now. Plane rides have never been my favorite thing. There's too many people and none of them seem to give a shit about the people around them. It's stuffy and loud and there's very little room to stretch my legs. Still, there was no telling McKenna no. Not when she was overly excited for all of us to go on vacation. At least Zayne also didn't seem entirely thrilled at the aspect of having to request the time off. While everyone sat relatively close, I chose the window seat to distract myself from the feeling of Caleb's hand on my thigh and Zayne's eyes burning into me from the row behind us. But the clouds that flew past us did nothing to divert.
Caleb's touch is possessive. His thumb idly strokes light patterns over the skin of my thigh and it burns into me. Just like the way Zayne seems to have his eyes glued to my every reaction. Like he's in on a secret I'm trying to keep. But there is no secret save for the one where I'm not really dating Caleb. And for one horrifying moment, I think maybe that's why he keeps staring at me. Maybe he knows the truth—that this is just for show. The way he acted when I had confronted him about Gage in his office would make sense if that was the case. But I can't bring myself to say something, so I let it be what it is for the moment. Focusing on the heat of Caleb's palm on my thigh.
"You alright, Pix?" Caleb's voice pulls me from my daydreaming out the window, "You seem a 'lil distracted today."
I don't miss the way his voice drops or the heat in his eyes. How he looks at me like he owns me in every way. This isn't the same Caleb I knew. Or even the same Caleb from the day before. He seemed more in control, yet unhinged in a way I can't describe. Like a coil that was rolled too tight and was liable to snap at any moment. Zayne shifts behind me. The soft sound of a keyboard being tapped tells me that he had pulled out his laptop. Likely to do some last minute work while on the go. Did he ever just take a break? I was beginning to see why McKenna complained.
"Yeah, I'm fine," even I don't believe my voice when I hear it, "Don't worry."
Caleb doesn't buy it either.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
S: Found this. Might be worth looking into, Doctor.
Sylus, as he had come to attempt to remember, follows his message with a link to a file. One that appears to be from Gaia Research Center from before the Chronorift Catastrophe. Zayne scans it, emerald eyes occasionally glancing up to assess her posture. The state of Caleb's hand on her thigh. If she seemed uncomfortable in the slightest, which is a ridiculous thing to be worried about when they're dating.
He resumes scanning the document Sylus had sent. A file regarding the genes required to produce children with certain Evol types. He had been right at the meeting. It certainly is interesting that Iris had no Evol of her own when both her parents seemed to have the necessary gene to produce children with one. By all accounts, it seemed as though with the kind of Evols that her parents possessed she should have—
S: Looks like your girl has something to hide. Or maybe she doesn't know about her dormant gene. Is that reason enough for your mad scientist to be after her?
Z: She is not 'my girl', Sylus. But yes—this would be enough.
S: Not yet, correct? Semantics.
He sigh, pocketing his phone back into his jacket pocket. This would be the last he would let work—whether it be for the hospital or personal—distract him while he was on vacation. One that while he had protested at first, he did desperately need. After the events since Iris's kidnap and assault, he needed the reprieve. A reset of sorts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Caleb walks in front of me. His shoulders broad enough to block the sun and envelope me in the shade of his shadow. There's a boyish, goofy grin breaking his face in half and I'm ashamed of how long it takes me to bring my eyes to his face instead of tracing the outline of his bare abdomen. The tips of his ears don't darken with blush like they used to. Instead, he twirls a pair of keys around his finger and looks down at me like he knows a secret I'm not privy to. Under his other arm is a paraglider. Something I would never be caught dead on. Largely because I'm terrified of heights.
"No. You're high. Like actually on crack if you think I'm going anywhere on that thing." I nod to the paraglider under his arm.
Caleb looks down at it with my gesture. His brows raising in challenge. "Oh, c'mon, Pix. You're not seriously still afraid of heights are you?"
"Deathly, in fact."
Beside him, Zayne walks up and grabs the surfboard that was shoved in the sand. His back is turned to me and my mouth parts in awe. His shoulders are even broader than Caleb's if that's possible. Raven hair damp from swimming and attempting to dry out in the sun. They're both shirtless—in nothing but swim shorts. It occurs to me that I've only ever seen Caleb even remotely close to naked. But I have never once seen Zayne in anything that doesn't have a collar and cover his arms.
He grabs the surfboard, holds it under his arm like it's nothing. "You can always come join me in the water. I can teach you how to use the board."
I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the very filthy ideas that made themselves at home there. "I'll drown!"
His laugh makes my stomach flip several times before it settles. "You act like I wouldn't be there to save you," he shakes his head and the sun catches in the emerald of his eyes, "I'm lifeguard certified."
When had Zayne gotten so broad shouldered? Why am I gawking at the both of them like I've never seen a man before in my life? Like I had just had Caleb buried in me the night before. I am no better than any man with the way I've been staring at them. The corners of Zayne's mouth quirks up in a smirk as if he noticed the way I was looking at them both. But why would he take pride in that when he has never been interested in me like that? It just didn't make sense. I'm saved by Xavier walking up beside them both. His mouth turned down in an exaggerated frown and a water gun in hand.
"What's got you?"
Xavier pulls the trigger of the squirt gun softly. Making the smallest stream of water come from the tip. "MC abandoned me to go hiking with her girlfriend."
"It looks like you've got options, Pix," Caleb's boyish grin stretches halfway across his face.
It takes about thirty seconds for the realization of what was said to dawn on both Caleb and Zayne. They blink before looking at each other, then stare at Xavier. A sly smile lifts the corners of my mouth. I knew long before she had decided to bring us all on a vacation. But apparently this is how she chose to announce to the rest of the group that she is actually queer. That she prefers women to men. And this is how we all meet the girl she's been seeing unbeknownst to any of them. Besides Xavier, I suppose, since he seems to be completely unsurprised by the news he just announced.
He looks from me to Caleb, then finally to Zayne. "What? You guys didn't know? She's been dating our colleague Simone for about a year now." He shrugs as if he's unbothered.
"Wow, this is a really hard decision," laughter rings in my voice, "Think I'm gonna have to go with the sad squirt gun."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Water skims by my cheek as I throw myself down on the blow-up raft. We're both out of breath and panting. My water gun is slowly running out of ammo. Guess you could say I'm a little trigger happy. Xavier's reflexes are lightning fast. He already has one knee bent with his elbows using it as a rest while he aims his water gun in my direction. One eye shut for better aiming—or just to keep the water dropping from his hair out of his eye.
Slowly, I push myself up just high enough to peek over the edge of the inflatable raft. Only to be met with the end of his gun in my face. My hands raise, palms facing towards him in surrender.
"Okay, okay. You win. I give." My words come out a little rushed with my breathing.
Xavier juts his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. "That fast? That easy?"
My hand is already reaching for my gun behind me. A smirk pulling the corner of my mouth. Crash always did call me a sore loser. Mostly because I refuse to lose at anything. And that's why I was never allowed to play any sort of game with him and Caleb growing up. Caleb and I are both far too competitive and I don't always play fair.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He couldn't concentrate on the water and waves. Not with her laughter in his ears and the sun shining through her hair. Zayne couldn't bring his attention from her. Instead, he watches as Xavier jumps from his raft to hers. Dunks her in the water as she screams playfully and holds her water gun up with a finger on the trigger. His mouth twist into a smirk at the corners when only a pathetic wisp of dried water spurts from the end of it. Iris goes under and from the looks of the amount of pressure being used—Xavier isn't truly forcing her under. It's playful. Harmless. Zayne doesn't have to worry about the possibility of drowning and needing to preform CPR. Besides, he knew that Iris could hold her breath under water for a fair amount of time. They used to have competitions in the summer as children to see who could hold their breath the longest. She would always win those.
Zayne brings his attention back to his phone in his hand. Scrolling through the article that Sylus (having finally remembered his name) had sent him on the plane before take off. It's more of a study from the old archives from the Gaia Research Center than an article. A report of sorts written by one of the scientists. Emerald eyes scan over every word with the kind of precision worthy of the surgeon title he holds. But nothing could have prepared him for the things he read in that study.
Subject: Infant Girl Age: Approx. 3-6 months old Blood Type: Rhnull
He stops reading there for a moment. The rarest blood type in the world. Referred to as "golden blood" and known to be a hail Mary if someone were to need a blood transfusion. They can save anyone with their blood. If she had this specific blood type that could be reason for EVER to hunt her down. But was it reason enough? Zayne thinks on her medical charts. Trying to remember if they have her blood type on it. When he comes up empty handed, he moves on.
He continues his reading.
The report goes on to state that another subject had flat lined expectantly. Measures had been taken too far and it proved to be too much for the subject. Also an infant girl. They used blood from the other infant girl—the one in the report itself—to revive her. Zayne scans over every word with precision. Dissecting everything and reading between the lines as much as he possibly can.
A scream cuts through his concentration.
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No matter how fast I am—Caleb is always faster. He's chasing me through the sand with the stupid paraglider in hand. Sand sprays with each kick of my feet when I run. But it's the stupid mistake of being concerned about if it's being kicked so high it's reaching Caleb's eyes that makes me lose the chase. Or rather gives him enough halt in my momentum for him to cheat using his Evol.
Gravity shifts around me and my feet slowly begin to lift from the sand.
"Caleb, put me down." My voice shakes when I speak, but my eyes are wild as I look around me. "Caleb, put me down now."
But he doesn't listen. Instead, leans against a wooden post stuck in the sand with a lopsided, boyish grin. Never have I wanted to punch him in throat more than in this moment. I hate that stupid grin on his stupid handsome face.
"What was that, Pix?" He drawls, placing a fingertip on his chin as he pretends to look confused into the sky, "I couldn't hear you over my wild success."
"You fucking cheated! That doesn't even count, you dick!"
A smirk lifts the corners of his mouth. "You seem to enjoy my dick."
"Agh! You're insufferable and I fucking hate you!"
"Sure you do."
Without missing a beat, he reaches into the pocket of his shorts. Retrieving a pack of Camel '99s and bringing one to his lips while his other hand fumbles for a light. A matter of weeks and I had turned him into something of a smoker himself. Of course, he still has what I like to call baby lungs. Coughs if he takes too long of a drag. Can't hold the smoke in his chest for long and his eyes still water from time to time. But he's made progess and somehow turned it into a competition on who's the better smoker. He forgets that I've been smoking since we were teenagers whereas he just started out of curiosity. His gravity leaves me and I promptly drop to the sand—ass first.
"You couldn't have at least caught me? You know like a normal boyfriend would?"
Caleb blows the smoke out in a straight line with a wink. "I'm not exactly a normal boyfriend—now am I, Pixie?"
"You're disgusting."
"Aren't you in a romantic relationship with him?" The sound of Zayne's voice makes me jump.
"Yes, and it doesn't make him any less disgusting."
A pair of cool yet smooth hands help to lift me for from the sand. My head whips to see Zayne standing and helping me stand. When did he even get there? He didn't sound that close just a second ago.
"Offer to come out into the water with me still stands," the corner of his mouth turns into the barest hint of a smirk, "Unless that water gun fight with Xavier wore you out?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Cash asleep in the shade. McKenna seems to have come back at some point. She and who I can only assume is her girlfriend giggle while they bury him in the sand. He remains blissfully unaware and sound asleep.
I wrinkly my nose at him, extending my pinky. "Promise not to let me drown, Doc?"
"Pinky promise I won't let you drown."
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The water is cool without being cold when he swims us out. One hand on the board and one smoothing wet hair out of his eyes. Sun shines just right over his face. Illuminates his eyes in a way that makes them shine brighter than they have before. Like emeralds buried and beam with the sunlight catches them just right. It knocks the breath from my lungs when I look at him.
"Are you ready?" His voice shakes me from my traitorous thought process.
"Huh? Ready for what?"
Zayne dips down on one side. Sweeping his arm under my legs beneath the water in one fell swoop and I squeal in surprise. He sits me on the board with ease. As if it's the easiest thing in the world and I weight nothing at all. Like he's been doing this our whole lives. My legs dangle off the side of the board and for a moment we just stare at each other. Neither of us saying a thing. Something in the atmosphere shifts and Zayne coughs softly before looking away. As if he just realized how close he is to me.
"Right, um, stand on the board," he directs then pulls himself up behind me, "Give me your hand."
My feet are unsteady when I let him help me to stand. The board wavering slightly under our combined weight. His hands find their place on my waist. Keeping me balanced so we don't topple over. His breath is hot on my neck and it occurs to me then how close he is behind me. My heart beats so hard it's near painful.
"Relax, I've got you." He murmurs in my ear.
I nod in acknowledgement. But it's hard to focus on relaxing when the his body heat is all I feel at my back. When the coolness of his hand is at my waist. Skimming the visible skin between the top and bottoms of my swimsuit. I thought I was more or less over this. I thought I was over this silly reaction to Zayne and proximity. He turns his head briefly before turning back to me and his breathe skims over the skin of my shoulders.
"A wave is coming," Zayne murmurs over my neck, "Brace yourself. Feet evenly apart and arms out."
His foot nudges mine apart and he wraps an arm around my waist. Keeping me steady while guiding me enough to where we don't fall over. And before I can take a breath—the wave takes us in. It curls just enough over us to shield the sun from our eyes and the board stays pointed out from the water. I've never been the most coordinated person and I half expect us to fall over when my leg comes up to rest against him. Bent at the knee. I lean back, eyes closed and arm extended into touch the water. Letting it ripple over my fingers and wrist. I hear him laugh, soft and teasing, before asking if I was worried for nothing. I move to arch my back more when I feel the board waver.
There's no time to grab on to him. Or attempt to steady us and the board. I inhale sharply just before the wave washes over us and we tumble off the board entirely. Water envelopes us both and my vision goes black.
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When our heads break above the water, I can't tell where we are. Nothing looks familiar anymore. Somewhere in my memory I hear McKenna telling us that it's easy to get lost on these islands and to stick with the buddy system. Technically, we didn't break the buddy system rule since we're still together. Zayne had made sure of that by swimming to me under the water as soon as we went under. He kept a hand on my back the entire swim up and…apparently wherever we had ended up. Keeping me safe and making sure he stayed with me.
We look around briefly to try and orient ourselves—then at each other.
I don't know when the lines started to blur or even know crossed them first. Only that his mouth is on mine and his hands are sliding under my swim top. Fingers not untying the strings but brushing over freckled skin in a motion that feels like worship.
